physician, his botanical lore, and his passion for adventures in field and in forest, made him popular among the Indians. In one of the excursions made in their company he visited Caughnawaga and became so enamored of the beautiful half-breed, Sarah, as to accede to the condition upon which her parents gave consent to the marriage, viz., that he should live in Canada.

Their only son, Thomas Williams, married a French woman. Among the children of this marriage was Eleazar Williams, born about 1790, whom many persist to this day in beliving to have been the lost Louis XVII of France. He was educated in "the States and took orders in the Episcopal Church, choosing as his cure of souls a settlement of Indians at Green Bay, Wisconsin. His relative and biographer, the compiler of the Williams Genealogy, adds,

"He married Miss Mary Hobart Jourdan, a distant relative of the King of France "-(Louis Philippe) "from whom he had been honored with several splendid gifts and honors, among the rest a golden cross and star. He has a son John who is now (1846) on a visit to the king of France at his request."

Those who met and knew the faithful mis

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sionary, who may have owed his French physiognomy and natural grace of manner to his mother, Thomas Williams's wife,-describe him as a serious-eyed, earnest Christian gentleman, who seldom spoke of the wild tales of his royal parentage and his right to a throne, yet who believed thoroughly and honestly in them all. This conviction and the expression of it on the part of such a man, whose parents assuredly could have rent the illusion by a word, is perhaps the most astonishing circumstance in all the marvellous tissue of tragedy, adventure, achievement, and heroism that envelops and dignifies the homely dwelling standing now a little apart from the shaded village

street.

It was removed about eighty feet back on its own grounds when the Deerfield Academy was erected, a building that now occupies the site of the parsonage. The Williams house itself has suffered many changes, yet certain features are unaltered. There are broad window-seats where the only daughter left to the stricken father may have sat in the twilight with her Reverend lover, and Eunice, in her Indian dress, perhaps dreamed on moonlight evenings of the mother left dead on the bloody

snow, and tried to forgive her father in his grave for the second marriage she had resented as an insult to the memory of the true and tender "consort."

As we stroll under the elms that line the dear, dreamy old street, I am told that the leading man to-day in the Indian settlement of Caughnawaga, is Chief Joseph Williams, a direct descendant of Eunice, and a far-off kinsman of the sweet and stately woman whose summer-rest is taken among her own people. She tells me of her visit to the village with the impossible name, some years back, and how the Crusade of the Bell is held to be history, not legend, by the great-great-grandchildren of those who burned the town and recovered their rightful property, and how the blood-bought trophy still hangs in the belfry of the Canadian church.

A monument has been erected lately upon the spot where Eunice Williams was slain, over on the other side of Green River, and in the museum is the old nail-studded door with the hole hacked in it through which Mrs. Sheldon was shot.

Deerfield has been spoken of as the "sleep