Qass ^JAl 
 
 Book 
 
 ^\UJ±. 
 

 ADDRESS AND POEM, 
 
 IN COMMEMORATION OF EPHRAIM WILLIAMS, 
 
 BEFORE THE 
 
 SOCIETY OF ALUMNI, 
 
 » S i S , 
 
 ■«e5 
 
/ 
 
 ADDRESS AND POEM 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE THE 
 
 SOCIETY OF ALUMNI 
 
 WILLIAMS COLLEGE, 
 
 AUGUST 14, 185 5. 
 
 Published at the Request of the Society. 
 
 BOSTON: ■ 
 T. R. MARVIN & SON, 42 CONGRESS STREET. 
 
 1855. 
 

 &imro0 mikiiown 
 
ADDRESS, 
 
 JOSEPH WHITE, Es 
 
 Gentlemen of the Alumni : 
 
 We have assembled again on this spot, consecrated 
 by the associations of our earlier and better years. For a 
 brief space we have left the cares and clamors of the " work- 
 day " world behind us, that we may renew those pleasant 
 associations, and revive the memories of those happy years. 
 
 And it is good for us to be here ; good to lay our offerings 
 anew upon these altars ; to open our ear again to the calm 
 teachings of a pure science and a true philosophy — teachings 
 so often drowned by the hoarse voices of the world ; and 
 feel our pulses quicken with a fresh inspiration, and a return- 
 ing strength for the toilsome day before us. It is good to 
 stand again in the midst of these handiworks of Nature ; 
 to gaze upon these valleys, "glorious with their simimer 
 green," and these enclosing hills, and shout to them, as with 
 youthful voices, our glad All Hail ! 
 
 The day, this assembly, and these associations, naturally 
 suggest the appropriate topics of discourse. But from all 
 such I turn away. By a more casual association, the year of 
 grace, in which we hve, reminds us of another year, most 
 memorable in our colonial annals, when every village of 
 New England was astir with the notes of warlike prepara- 
 tion, and her bravest and best were girding themselves for a 
 bitter and protracted conflict — the year in which Braddock 
 
4 
 
 was defeated, and Washington arose into the view of the 
 American people — a year ever to be remembered on this 
 ground, as marking the death of him who was the Father of 
 this Town, and the Founder of this College. 
 
 I shall 'make no apology, therefore, for inviting your atten- 
 tion to a simple narration, so far as now known, of the life 
 and services of Ephraim Williams. 
 
 Ephraim Williams was a descendant, in the third gener- 
 ation, from the Puritan, Robert Williams, who is supposed 
 to have removed from Norwich, in England, and settled in 
 E-oxbury. He was admitted freeman in 1638, and died at 
 an advanced age, September 1, 1693. He left three sons — 
 Samuel, Isaac, and Stephen — through whom, says John 
 Farmer, he became the " common ancestor of the divines, 
 civilians, and warriors, of his name, who have honored the 
 country of their birth." 
 
 Captain Isaac Williams, his second son, was born in 1638, 
 and removed, Avhile yet a young man, to Cambridge Village, 
 afterwards the town of Newton. He was chosen deacon of 
 the church in that town, when it was first constituted, in 
 1664, with John Eliot, Jr., as pastor. He died in 1707, 
 leaving his homestead and the larger part of his property to 
 his youngest son, Ephraim Williams, the father of the sub- 
 ject of this memoir. 
 
 Cx)lonel Ephraim WilHams, senior, was born at Newton, 
 October 21, 1691. He married EKzabeth Jackson, the 
 daughter and eldest child of Abraham Jackson, himself the 
 only son of John Jackson, who was the first settler of 
 Newton. Ephraim, who was their eldest son, was born at 
 Newton, on the 24th day of February, 1715. Soon after • 
 the birth of a second son, February 24, 1718, the mother 
 died. The two children, Ephraim and Thomas, Avere imme- 
 diately taken by their grandfather, Abraham Jackson, to 
 his own home. He adopted and " brought them up under 
 the paternal roof of his own mansion, and gave them a good 
 
education for the time." " Through his liberality they di'ank 
 freely at the spring of learning, and knew how to estimate 
 its value." ^ At his death in 1740, he left them two hun- 
 dred pounds, saying that " he had already spent considerable 
 sums for their bringing up and education." ^ 
 
 Most deeply do we in this day sympathize with the regrets, 
 often expressed, that so little is known of the early life and 
 training of Williams. It would be an interesting study to 
 trace, in the lines of his noble character, the fire-side influ- 
 ences, the sedulous instructions, and the generous examples 
 of his venerable guardian and instructor. In the absence of 
 any record of these, we are left to such inferences in regard 
 to them as may naturally be drawn from the known charac- 
 ter of both guardian and ward. 
 
 Abraham Jackson was a man of the Puritan stamp, distin- 
 guished for his intelligence, integrity, and devotion to the 
 public good. During a long life, he was a most useful citi- 
 zen, and an honorable man. In 1706, we find him associ- 
 ated with Isaac Williams on the first school committee of 
 Newton. Of his liberality the records of the town furnish 
 one most interesting proof On the 14th day of May, 1701, 
 he gave one acre of land, " for the setting the school-house 
 upon, and the enlarging the burying-place, and the conven- 
 ience of the training-place." A beautiful example, doubt- 
 less, of the spirit of his inculcations upon his youthful 
 charge, and fully justifying the historian when he says : 
 " It is quite apparent that the first sprouts of Williams Col- 
 lege were germinated in the family of Abraham Jackson, the 
 son of the first settler of Newton." ^ And here, gentlemen, 
 allow me to add that the tree, whose sprouts are thus said to 
 have germinated in the family of Abraham Jackson, has 
 recently been generously watered by one of his kindred who 
 bears his name. I allude to the munificent donation of three 
 thousand five hundred dollars, made during the present year, 
 by Nathan Jackson, Esq., of New York, for the erection of 
 
 ' Hist, of Newton, by Francis Japltson, Esq., p. 329. * Ibid. ^ Ibid. 
 
the building upon the East College grounds, for the use of 
 the Society of Natural History. 
 
 As he approached the age of manhood, young Williams 
 found scope for his enterprise and love of adventure upon 
 the ocean. He made several voyages across the Atlantic, 
 visiting England, Spain and Holland. In these voyages, and 
 in his intercourse with general society, he acquired those 
 accompHshments of manner, that knowledge of human char- 
 acter, together with such a fund of general information, as 
 well prepared him for his future career.^ He continued this 
 mode of life until about the age of twenty-five. 
 
 In the yeai" 1739, his father had removed, with his family, 
 to the Indian town of Stockbridge. His family was one of 
 the four English families designated by the Provincial Gov- 
 ernment to settle in that place, in aid of the mission to the 
 Stockbridge Indians, which had just been commenced by the 
 Kev. John Sargeant. At the earnest solicitation of his father, 
 Williams abandoned a sea-faring life, and removed to Stock- 
 bridge. Here he purchased large tracts of land, and resided 
 for several years, an active and useful citizen of the infant 
 settlement, and often its agent at the General Court. But the 
 time had arrived for his entrance upon more responsible duties. 
 
 From the close, in 1725, of the predatory war, known as 
 the " Jesuits' or Rale's war," for a period of nearly twenty 
 years, the settlements of Massachusetts Had enjoyed repose. 
 Still, the evidences were not wanting that the spirit of 
 revenge and the lust of blood had not departed from the 
 bosoms of their savage neighbors. Having left their hunting 
 grounds on the Connecticut and its tributaries, under the 
 pressure of the disasters suffered in King Philip's and the 
 subsequent wars, and sought new homes in the North and 
 West, the remembrance of then- .former seats still remained, 
 and kept alive and glowing the feehngs of deep indignation 
 and hate against the intruders. And it needed only the 
 opportunities which a war between Prance and England 
 
 ' Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll., Vol. viii. p. 47. 
 
would aflEbrd, to let loose again their fierce hordes upon the 
 feeble frontier settlements. 
 
 These opportunities were too soon to be offered. On the 
 29th of March, 1744, Great Britain declared war against 
 France and Spain. It was proclaimed in Boston in June. 
 "At the declaration of war," says Gen. Hoyt/ in his mvalu- 
 able narrative of the times, " many Indians who had been 
 active in the former war, and who resided about the frontiers 
 on the Connecticut, suddenly left their stations, and repaired 
 to Canada to join the hostile tribes in that quarter — often 
 firing upon the houses of the frontier settlers as they com- 
 menced their march." " Perfectly acquainted with the 
 topography of the country, they were employed during the 
 war, not only on predatory excursions of their own, but as 
 guides to other and more distant Indians." 
 
 Planning their expeditions in Canada, their war parties, 
 destined for the Northern and Western settlements, moved 
 down Lake Champlain to Crown Point, or to Whitehall, up 
 the Otter and AVood Creeks, through the wilderness of Ver- 
 mont, to the highlands ; whence, in smaller parties, they 
 passed down the White and Wells llivers and the head- 
 streams of the Deerfield to the Connecticut ; or to the Hoosick, 
 and up that stream to the base of the mountain. 
 
 To guard against these invasions, the Provincial Govern- 
 ment authorized the construction of a cordon of small forts 
 and block-houses across the highlands, from . Fort Dummer 
 on the Connecticut to the valley of the Hoosick at the base 
 of Saddle Mountain. Principal among these Avere Fort 
 Shirley in Heath, Pelhara in Powe, and Fort IMassachusetts. 
 There were also block-houses in Bernardstou and Coleraine, 
 and small works at Pontoosuck, Stockbridge, and Sheffield. 
 Forts Shirley, Pelham, and Massachusetts were erected in 
 
 * Antiquarian Researches — now out of print. A new edition is much 
 needed. Gen. Hoyt was an able antiquarian. At his death, he left a val- 
 uable memoir, in manuscript, of the campaign of 1755, in which Col. "Wil- 
 liams fell. May we not hope for its early publication ? 
 
8 
 
 the summer of 1744,^ under the superintendence of Ephraim 
 Williams, Jr., who had received a captain's commission, and 
 was intrusted with the command of the line of defences upon 
 the northern frontiers west of the Connecticut. His head- 
 quarters were at Fort Massachusetts. His superior officer, 
 as well as personal friend, Avas John Stoddard, of Northamp- 
 ton, Colonel of the Hampshire regiment. Thus was AYilliams 
 first made acquainted with the valley of the Hoosick, destined 
 to the end of life to be the theatre of his labors, and the 
 object of his cares and affectionate regards. 
 
 As he climbed the Hoosick mountain, in his route from 
 Deerfield, and stood with his little band upon yonder western 
 summit, how different the prospect which greeted his vision, 
 from that which lies in silent beauty beneath our eyes ! 
 Thickly upon the valley and the surrounding hills stood the 
 ancient forests — a part of the vast wilderness which stretched 
 westward to the lakes and northward to the river of Canada 
 — and unbroken, save here and there by a clearing on the 
 bank of the river, through which the bright waters gleamed 
 in the sunlight, and where the rude native had once planted 
 his favorite maize ; and tracked only by the ancient war- 
 path of the JNIohawk, which bordered on the stream and 
 crossed the Eastern mountains. 
 
 Excepting the single dwelling of the first settler of Charle- 
 mont, the nearest abodes of civilized men were at Deerfield 
 on the East, at Stockbridge on the South, and the Dutch 
 settlements on the Hudson. In this exposed position — 
 pushed fiir into the wilderness — on the beautiful meadow in 
 Adams, now owned by Clement Harrison, Esq., Williams 
 and his hardy companions erected theu" fort of logs, sur- 
 rounded with pickets of squared timbers driven into the 
 ground so as to form a continuous fence, mounted with a few 
 iron guns, or swivels, and defensible against musketry alone. 
 The garrison at this time numbered fifty men, while a less 
 number served for the other and smaller works. Rev. John 
 
 ' Mass, Military Eecords, Vol. vii. p. 155. 
 
 / 
 
Norton, who had been settled at Falltown, now Bernards- 
 ton, was chaplain ; and Thomas AVilliams, the brother of 
 Ephraim, a distinguished physician at Deerfield, was sur- 
 geon. 
 
 Feebly, indeed, can the present generation conceive of the 
 hardships endured by these brave men, one hundred years 
 ago. Besides the regular garrison duty, small scouting parties 
 were continually ranging the woods from fort to fort, or pen- 
 etrating far into the northern wilderness, to discover the 
 Indian trail, intercept and defeat their war-parties. It was a 
 service most exhausting and hazardous. Armed with his 
 gun, hatchet and scalping-knife, with his provisions and 
 blanket on his back, the hardy soldier scoured the woods in 
 quest of the savage foe, prepared to meet him with his own 
 weapons and on his own ground. Every tangled thicket 
 was the place of ambush, and the tomahawk and scalping- 
 knife ever gleamed before him. From its exposed position, 
 the garrison of Fort Massachusetts had their full share of 
 this adventurous service. Being now thirty years of age, 
 with vigorous health, bold, active and vigilant. Captain 
 Williams shared fully with Iris men the privations and 
 dangers of the service, and exerted his best powers in de- 
 fence of the frontiers. 
 
 In the spring of 1746, having received a Captain's com- 
 mission in an expedition planned by Governor Shirley 
 against Canada, he enlisted a company and joined the forces 
 which had assembled at Albany, with the view of proceeding 
 by the way of Lake Champlain. While absent on this ser- 
 vice. Fort Massachusetts was invested on the 20th of August 
 by eight hundred French and Indians, commanded by 
 M. Rigaud de Vaudreuil. After a gallant defence for twen- 
 ty-eight hours, by Sergeant John Hawks, of Deerfield, with 
 only twenty-two effective men, the garrison was forced to 
 surrender for want of ammunition. The fort was destroyed, 
 and the prisoners taken to Canada by the way of Crown 
 Point. Among the prisoners was Benjamin Simonds, who 
 2 
 
10 
 
 is still remembered by the aged people of this town as one 
 of its earliest settlers and most influential citizens.^ 
 
 The apj)earance of a formidable French fleet on our East- 
 ern coast caused the projected invasion of Canada to be aban- 
 doned. The troops were withdrawn for the defence of 
 Boston ; and Captain AVilliams returned to his command on 
 the frontiers. Fort INIassachusetts was rebuilt and garrisoned 
 with one hundred men. As heretofore, it continued to be 
 the object of frequent attacks. Many a sharp conflict was 
 had with the wily enemy, who lurked in the surrounding 
 hills, ready to pounce upon the unwary soldier who strayed 
 beyond the guns, of the fort. 
 
 A single instance, as related by General Hoyt,^ may be 
 given. On the 2d of August, 1748, four men being fired 
 upon at some distance from the fort. Captain Williams sallied 
 with thirty men. After driving the enemy about forty rods, 
 a party of fifty Indians in ambuscade suddenly fired, and 
 endeavored to cut off his retreat. By a quick ^lovemeut he 
 regained the fort, with one man killed, and two wounded. 
 At once a large body of three hundred Indians and thirty 
 French advanced and opened their fire upon the fort. After 
 sustaining a sharp. fire from the garrison for two hours^ the 
 enemy drew off with their killed and wounded. 
 
 Peace was declared at Aix la Chapelle, October 18, 1748. 
 The war did not close in the Colonies till the following sum- 
 mer. On the cessation of hostilities, the forces on the fron- 
 tiers were reduced, small garrisons being retained at Forts 
 Dummer and Massachusetts. From this time, Captain Wil- 
 liams resided on the Connecticut, at Hatfield, and with his 
 brother Thomas, at Deerfield. 
 
 With a rising reputation as an officer, with great dignity of 
 person and manners, he found ready admission into the high- 
 est circles of rank and influence, in that aristocratic period, 
 and numbered among his intimate friends and associates the 
 leading men in the county, — such men as Jolin Worthing- 
 
 ' Ant. Researches, p. 238. " Ibid. p. 252. 
 
11 
 
 ton^ of Springfield ; Joseph HaAvley, of Northampton; Oliver 
 Partridge and Israel Williams, of Hatfield ; and Jonathan 
 Ashley, the minister at Deerfield — men who had no superiors 
 in the Province.^ 
 
 But he did not forget the valley of the Hoosic and his 
 cojnpanions in arms. Much of his thought and effort was 
 devoted to them. Mainly through his influence with its 
 leading men, the General Court on the 18th of April, 1749, 
 appointed a committee, consisting of Colonels Dwight and 
 Choate, and Oliver Partridge, Esq., " to survey and lay out 
 two townships on Hoosick Piver, each of the contents of six 
 miles square, in the best of the land, and in as regular form 
 as may be, joining them together ; and retui-n a correct 
 plat of said townships ; and also to return the course and 
 distance of said towns from Fort Massachusetts." ^ 
 
 The survey was made in October following, and the report 
 of the committee returned on the 10th of November. The 
 committee say, that " in the West township there is not so 
 great a quantity of intervale, but a very valuable and large 
 tract of land in the middle of the township, insomuch that 
 the committee do esteem the West township the most 
 valuable." ^ 
 
 Captain Williams remained at Boston during the session 
 of 1749—50, urging forward the settlement of the new town- 
 ships.'* As the result of these efforts, a committee was 
 ordered on the 17th of January, 1750, to lay out the West 
 township into sixty-three contiguous home lots of from 
 thirteen to fourteen . acres — each lot being entitled to one 
 sixty-third part of the township. After reserving one lot for 
 the first settled minister, one for the support of the ministry, 
 and a third for the support of schools, the committee were 
 directed to dispose of the remaining sixty lots to actual set- 
 tlers, for £6 16s. 6d. each, and upon the usual conditions.^ 
 The committee are also du-ected " to grant as many lots 
 
 ^ Hist, of Williams Family, p. 235. ^ House Journal. ^ Mass. Rec- 
 ords, Towns, Vol. iv. p. 532. ■• Memorial of Williams, Mil. Records, 
 Vol. vii. p. 761. * Mass. Records, Towns, Vol. iv. p. 532. 
 
12 
 
 to the soldiers of tlie garrison of Fort Massachusetts as they 
 should think proper." ^ 
 
 On the 16th of February, also, a grant of one hundred and 
 ninety acres of land, in the East township, was made to 
 Williams himself, on the condition that " he erect and finish 
 for service, within two years, a good grist-mill and saw-mill 
 on the North Branch of the Hoosick River, and keep the 
 same in good repair for twenty years." ^ The mills were 
 erected, and "Williams became owner of the large meadow 
 upon which the fort was built. 
 
 The committee proceeded without delay to the work of 
 settling the West township. Sixty-three lots, fourteen rods 
 wide, were laid out on a broad street running from Green 
 River to Hemlock Brook, and sixty of them disposed of to 
 purchasers by lot. Of these lots, more than one half were 
 taken by the officers and soldiers of Fort Massachusetts, 
 Captain Williams himself drawing lots numbers eight and 
 ten. Several of the proprietors removed their families, and 
 commenced the work of settlement immediately. 
 
 Thus it appears, that these sister towns, in the upjDcr 
 valley of the Hoosick, are the foster-children of Fort Mas- 
 sachusetts, and may look to Ephraim Williams as their 
 founder. 
 
 But the progress of improvement was soon to be stayed. 
 Clouds began to roll up the northern sky, portending 
 approaching war. The marshaling of the causes which 
 preceded the coming contest ; the intrigues of European 
 courts, and their long struggles for dynastic ascendency on 
 the one hand, or for the maintenance of the balance of 
 power on the other, drawing within theu- vortex the affairs 
 of the new world, — these belong to general history. Suffi- 
 cient however may be said, to show the necessity which 
 urged the men of that day to enter with full purpose of 
 heart upon the old French and Indian war. 
 
 ' House Journal, Feb. 7, 1750. ^ Ibid. 
 
13 
 
 The peace of Aix la Chapelle was but a hollow truce^ — a 
 mere cessation of arms. The combatants ceased to fight, for 
 want of breath. Mutually exhausted, they were glad to 
 adjourn the final and inevitable contest for supremacy in the 
 New World, till there should be renewed strength, and cir- 
 cumstances more auspicious of success. The stipulation to 
 restore mutual conquests, and recognize the boundaries as 
 defined by the treaty of Utrecht, bore severely upon New 
 England. She gained nothing, atid lost much. She was 
 forced to rehnquish Louisburgh, which had been conquered 
 by her prowess, and was of immense importance as a security 
 to her Eastern border. While Crown Point, which had 
 been built in 1731, within the territory of the Six Nations, 
 without their consent, and in contravention of the treaty 
 of Utrecht, still remained in the possession of France. We 
 shall soon see her reasons. 
 
 With her colonies seated on the banks of the St. Lawrence 
 and the Father of Waters, and claiming, by the right of 
 prior discovery, the region drained by these rivers, she 
 had formed the design of shutting the English colonists 
 within the eastern slopes of the Alleghanies. This purpose 
 she did not propose to relinquish. 
 
 To secure the passages to the Western valley, Du Quesne, 
 the Governor of Canada, devised a series of fortified posts to 
 extend from the Lakes to the Ohio. Lake Champlain, as we 
 have seen, was already secured. Fort Frontenac on its 
 Northern shore, and an armed sloop launched in 1751, gave 
 him the preponderance on Lake Ontario. Niagara, hereto- 
 fore a trading-house, was fortified ; and in 1753, there fol- 
 lowed stations at Erie, at Waterford on the French Creek, 
 and at Venango on the Alleghany ; and, in the spring of 
 1754, the strong fortress at the forks of the Ohio called in 
 honor of its projector. Fort Du Quesne. The Virginia 
 troops driven from the spot, and Washington forced to 
 surrender at Fort Necessity on the 4th of July, and the chain 
 was complete. 
 
14 
 
 On the other hand, England had granted charters, extend- 
 ing westward from ^ea to sea. On the arrival ^f peace, her 
 colonists, with adventurous feet, were pushing through the 
 mountain passes towards those golden regions of whose mar- 
 velous fertility and boundless extent strange stories were 
 told by the hunter and trader. 
 
 Thus the colonists of the two rival and hostile nations, 
 different in race, different in religion, and different in civil- 
 ization, stood face to face -upon the borders of the valley of 
 the West, with conflicting claims, Avhich the sword must 
 decide. The prize an emphe — a continent. Who shall 
 win ? 
 
 The French were feeble in numbers and in wealth. Yet 
 they had unity ; unity among themselves, and miity with 
 the government at home. They had the possession- of the 
 territory in dispute. Above all, they had the favor of the 
 Indian. With that wonderful tact and discernment of 
 character, that facility and power of adapting himself to 
 circumstances, however diverse, which never deserts the 
 Frenchman — and especially with the powerful aid of the 
 Jesuit missionaries, those indefatigable professors of an 
 elastic faith — the French had acquired an influence over the 
 rude sons of the forest which their more sturdy and less 
 facile neighbors could never attain. 
 
 With the single, although important exception of the 
 Iroquois confederacy, the numerous tribes which traversed 
 the vast regions watered by the St. Lawrence and the Ohio 
 acknowledged the king of France — the great Onontio — as 
 then- father. And even of th*e Iroquois no inconsiderable 
 numbers, seduced by the wiles of the Jesuits, had left 
 their council fires on the JMohawk, and settled upon the 
 St. Lawrence. 
 
 With the English colonists were greater numbers and 
 superior wealth ,• a higher intelHgence and pm-er morals ; a 
 manly feehng of individual responsibiHty and that sturdy love 
 of freedom which a Protestant civilization always insures. 
 
15 
 
 But they were also divided into numerous independent Prov- 
 inces, often with discordant pohcies and clashing interests. 
 There were disputes with the royal governors and jealousies 
 of the government at home, and an utter want of union 
 either of councils or of action with reference to matters of 
 common concern. Besides, through the most culpable 
 neglect, the Middle and Southern provinces had allowed 
 themselves to be forestalled in the occupation of the Ohio, 
 and hemmed in, as we have seen, by the French. As was 
 truly said in Parliament, they were enclosed in a net, Avith 
 both ends in the hands of the French, who had but to pull 
 the cords at a favorable moment to toss them into the sea. It 
 was no longer a question of territory beyond the mountains, 
 but of actual existence on the shores of the Atlantic. 
 
 At this critical juncture, the Middle and Northern Colo- 
 nies, now fully aroused to their clanger, sent Delegates to a 
 Congress at Albany for the purpose of securing a closer 
 alUance with the Six Nations, and also of devising some plan 
 of united resistance against the common enemy. Here, after 
 an animated conference, the " covenant chain " was solemnly 
 " renewed and brightened " with the Iroquois ; ^ and in the 
 month of July, Franklin's celebrated plan of union — that 
 morning herald of the more perfect Union under which we 
 live — was presented and adopted. This plan shared, how- 
 ever, the singular^ fate of being rejected for precisely opposite 
 reasons, by the parent and colonial governments. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Indian allies of the French, scenting the 
 war ffom afar, had commenced hostilities on the borders of 
 Pennsylvania and New England. In this quarter, in the 
 months of May and June, attacks were made at Stockbridge 
 and at Dutch Hoosick. Several persons were killed, and 
 much property destroyed.^ 
 
 Immediate measui-es of defence were adopted. Forts 
 Dummer and Massachusetts were strengthened, and then* 
 garrisons increased. Between them a series of stockades was 
 
 > Doc. Hist. N. Y., Vol. ii. p. 579. '^ Hoyt's Antq. Res. p. 263. 
 
16 
 
 renewed on the line of the Deerfield, instead of Forts Shirley 
 and Pelham ; wliile at the West additional worlcs were built 
 at New Framlingham, now Lanesborough, and at West 
 Hoosick, but a few rods from the spot where we are now 
 assembled. As in the previous war, the command was 
 intrusted to Ephraim Williams, who now held -a Major's 
 commission in the second Hampshire Regiment, which was 
 commanded by Israel Williams, of Hatfield. 
 
 The Colonies determined to prosecute the war, thus com- 
 menced, with their utmost vigor, and upon an extensive 
 scale. The plan adopted .embraced three principal expedi- 
 tions, to be conducted simultaneously in the following spring. 
 The first and most imj)ortant, against Fort Du Quesne, was 
 committed to Edward Braddock, JNIajor General and Com- 
 mander-in-chief of his Majesty's forces in America, to be 
 supported by two regiments of the line, and the provincial 
 troops of Pennsylvania, Maryland and Vhginia. The second 
 was against Niagara ; Governor Shirley, second in rank to 
 Braddock, was commander, with two royal American regi- 
 ments, his own, and Sir William Pepperell's, each one thou- 
 sand strong. . The third, against Crown Pomt, Avas intrusted 
 to the provincial troops of New England and New York. 
 William Johnson, of Mount Johnson, on the Mohawk, was 
 appointed to the command. He Avas General Superintend- 
 ent of Indian Affairs for the colonies, and wielded a power- 
 ful influence over the natives, especially those of the Six 
 Nations. It was hoped his appointment would draw many 
 of them to his standard, and perhaps detach their cousins in 
 Canada from the French. 
 
 On the 18th of February, 1755, the General Court of 
 INIassachusetts resolved to raise five thousand men for the 
 war. They empowered Governor Shirley to enlist twelve 
 hundred men for the Crown Point expedition, whenever the 
 other Provinces should agree to raise their respective propor- 
 tions, as determined by the Congress at Albany.^ The propo- 
 
 ' Military Records, Vol. viii. p. 335. 
 
17 
 
 sition of Massachusetts was assented to by the sister Colonies. 
 Shhley issued his proclamation on the 26th of INIarch.^ The 
 troops were enlisted in three regiments of four hundred each, 
 and commanded severally by Timothy Kuggles, of Worces- 
 ter ; Moses Titcomb, of Essex ; and Ephraim Williams, of 
 Hampshire. Colonel Williams and his staff received their 
 commissions on the 29th of March.^ . 
 
 The expedition was popular, and the regiments were 
 speedily tilled. That of Williams comprised ten companies. 
 His own company was commanded by John Burke, of Ber- 
 nardston. On his staff were Se^h Pomeroy, of Northamp- 
 ton, Lieutenant Colonel ; Noah Ashley, of Westfield, Major ; 
 Thomas Williams, of Deerfield, Surgeon ; and Perez Marsh, 
 of Dalton, Surgeon's Mate. William Williams, one of the 
 signers of the Declaration of Independence, was his Aid ; 
 and the venerable Stephen Williams, of Longmeadow, was 
 Chaplain.^ 
 
 The regiments — known as the " new levies " — were 
 ordered to rendezvous at Albany. They encamped on the 
 Eastern bank of the Hudson near the last days of June. 
 They Avere soon joined by the levies from the other colonies, 
 except New Hampshire. Phineas Lyman, a distinguished 
 lawyer, of Suffield, Connecticut, with the commission of 
 Major General, was second in command to Johnson. 
 
 The army numbered about thiee thousand men. They 
 were without regular uniforms, clad in the homespun and 
 home-dyed garments of the New England farmer of that 
 day. Their weapons were the long hunting gun, and the 
 Indian scalping-knife. They had never seen a bayonet, and 
 knew nothing of the discipline of regular troops. On parade 
 they presented a sorry spectacle to the drill sergeants of the 
 old world. Yet, they were inured to hardships. They were 
 familiar with danger. Most of them had seen hard service 
 in the perilous scout and the bloody encounter. They had 
 
 ' Military Records, Vol. viii. p. 362. '^ Muster Rolls, in Military Rec- 
 ords. ^ Ibid. 
 
 3 
 
18 
 
 come forth again to fight, not for glory nor for fame, but for 
 the hearth-stones they had left behind, and the loved ones 
 around them — for the altars of their God and his pure wor- 
 ship. On many a head-stone in the peaceful burial-places of 
 New England, the traveler may read the lines — " He fought 
 bravely on the Northern frontier, in defence of his country 
 and his religion." 
 
 Johnson joined the army in July. He called his first coun- 
 cil on the 12th, and by its advice, ordered General Lyman to 
 march with one thousand men, up the Hudson,' " to the 
 Carrying place, or Colonel Lydius' house, in order to open 
 and clear the roads, make bridges, build magazines and pre- 
 pare rendezvous for the rest of the troops and artillery." 
 Lyman reached the Carrying place on Sunday, the 3d of 
 August, and commenced building a fort, which was first 
 called Fort Lyman, but since known as Fort Edward. 
 
 On the 14th of August, General Johnson, accompanied by 
 Colonels Titcomb and Williams, arrived at the fort Avith the 
 remainder of the army and twenty pieces of cannon, two 
 of them thirty-two pounders, and a small party of Indians.^ 
 
 3 Learning from a party of Mohawks that the Governor of 
 Canada was preparing to meet him, with eight thousand men 
 at Ticonderoga, or at the head of the lake, Johnson called a 
 council on the 24th, (of which Williams was one,) which 
 advised him to send pressing requests to the Colonies for 
 reinforcements, and also to j^roceed to Crown Point by the 
 way of Lake St. Sacrament. Working parties were sent 
 out to open a road ; and on the 26th he set out with fifteen 
 hundred men and two hundred wagons, and, after a fatiguing 
 march of three days, arrived at the head of the lake, a dis- 
 tance of twenty miles. At the southern extremity of this 
 peaceful water — resting in solitary beauty in its rough casket 
 of mountain and forests, but soon to be dyed with the 
 
 ' Manuscript Minutes of the Council, in possession of Dr. William B. 
 Sprague. ^ Diary of Capt. John Burke. ' Minutes of Council in 
 Massachusetts Military Records. Vol. viii. p. 500. 
 
19 
 
 blood of many a fearful encounter — Johnson cleared the 
 ground and formed his encampment. 
 
 On the second day after his arrival, Johnson gave to this 
 beautiful lake — hitherto known to the English as the Lake 
 of the Iroquois — the name of Lake George, in honor of the 
 King of England.^ 
 
 On the 30th, Hendrick, the famous Mohawk sachem, 
 entered the camp with one hundred and seventy warriors ; 
 and on the 3d of September, General Lyman came up from 
 the Carrying place with the heavy artillery and the remainder 
 of the army, leaving the New Hampshire regiment and five 
 companies of New York troops to complete and guard the 
 fort. Johnson had now nearly three thousand men, including 
 Indians, fit for service, and awaited the arrival of batteaux 
 from the Hudson for the transportation of his troops down 
 the lake. 
 
 It is time to look at the enemy. He had not been idle. 
 On the 19th of June, six veteran regiments of France landed 
 at Quebec, having escaped, with the loss of two transports. 
 Admiral Boscawen, who waited for them near the banks of 
 Newfoundland. With them, as commander-in-chief, was 
 M. De Dieskau, a German Baron, who had distinguished 
 himself as a brave and skillful officer in Flanders. 
 
 Dieskau's first object was the capture of Oswego. Arriv- 
 ing at Montreal on his way, he found the whole country 
 filled with alarm by the reports of Johnson's invasion. 
 With great difficulty the Baron was persuaded to change his 
 purpose and proceed down Lake Charaplain. He landed at 
 Crown Point, with three thousand men, on the 14th of 
 August, where he waited fifteen days for Johnson's approach. 
 On the 2d of September, he moved down the lake to Ticon- 
 deroga.^ There an English prisoner informed him of John- 
 
 ' Letters to Gen. Lyman and The Board of Trade. 
 
 ^ For this and the subsequent movements of the French troops, vide the 
 reports of Dieskau, his aid, Montreuil, and the Gov. General of Canada, to 
 the French minister.— New York Documents, translated by Dr. E. B. 
 O'Callaghan. 
 
20 
 
 son's march towai'ds Lake George, and that the unfinished 
 fort, at the Carrying place, Avas guarded by five hundred 
 men, who were encamped without the walls. This post 
 taken, and the way was open to Albany, Johnson's commu- 
 nications cut oflT, his army shut up in the mountains, and 
 forced to fight at a disadvantage, or to surrender at discretion. 
 Dieskau's resolution was taken. And early the folloM'ing 
 morning he moved towards the fort, with a picked force of 
 fifteen hundred men. Two hundred and twenty were regu- 
 lars of the Queen's Regiment and Languedoc, six hundred 
 and eighty Canadians, and six hundred Indians led by the 
 famous one-eyed warrior, M. St. Pierre. Of the Indians, 
 three hundred were French Iroquois, and three hundred 
 Abenakis, or St. Francis Indians, who Avere accompanied 
 by Father Andrau, a Jesuit missionary. Leaving his batteaux 
 at South Bay, he marched on the morning of the 6th, through 
 the woods — his men carrying eight days' provisions — and 
 halted at night, fifteen miles from the Hudson. His plan 
 was to reach the fort at nightfall of the 7th, rush to the 
 attack, and carry the place by storm. But the Iroquois, 
 who acted as guides, fearing, or pretending to fear, the 
 guns of the fort, proved treacherous and misled the Baron. 
 When too late to return, he found himself four miles out of 
 his way, on Johnson's road to Lake George. He encamped 
 in the present town of Kingsbury, at the south end of the 
 precipitous mountain, called, from the events of the follow- 
 ing day, French Mountain. 
 
 Late at night, two wagoners, who had been taken pris- 
 oners, informed him of Johnson's encampment without 
 entrenchments, fifteen miles distant at the lake. At once 
 he oflfered to his Indians the alternative of attacking the fort 
 in the morning, or of marching against the English camp. 
 They chose the latter. At break of day the army was in 
 motion ; — the regulars in the road, the Canadians and Indians 
 on either flank, " marching through the woods and on the 
 mountains." At nine o'clock they reached the head of the 
 
21 
 
 narrow valley, or ravine, which opens towards the north. At 
 this point — about three and a halt" miles from the lake — the 
 hills on either side close in, leaving only space for the rivulet, 
 known as Kocky Brook, at their base ; Avlaile the road ran along 
 the slope of the western hills, a few rods distant from the 
 bottom of the valley. Here, a prisoner informed the Baron 
 of the near approach of a large force on their way to Fort 
 Lyman. He halted, changed his order of march, and pre- 
 pared for battle. The Indians and Canadians were ordered 
 to deposit their packs with a guard, and throw themselves 
 forward into the woods, on either flank, so as to form a deep 
 ambuscade. The Iroquois, supported by a part of the 
 Canadians, occupied the crest of the hiU on the left, with 
 directions to advance far enough to fall upon the enemy's 
 rear. The Abenakis and the remainder of the Canadians lay 
 in the ravine below the road, on the right. The regular 
 troops, with the Baron at their head, occupied the road, in 
 front. Thus posted, they waited in silence for theu' unsus- 
 pecting enemy, with orders to hold their fire till he was com- 
 pletely inclosed, when a volley from the regulars, in front, 
 was to be the signal for the onset. 
 
 But it is time to return to his less active opponent. For 
 ten days Johnson had waited for the ai'rival of transports and 
 stores, and had neither entrenched his camp, nor taken any 
 other measures to guard against surprise.^ 
 
 On Sabbath morning, the 7th of September, some Indian 
 scouts came into camp with the intelligence that they had 
 discovered the trail of a large army, marching in three 
 columns from South Bay towards Fort Lyman. Instantly 
 a council was called, which resulted in an order to Colonel 
 Williams to " build a picketed fort sufficient for a thousand 
 men."^ Williams immediately commenced clearing the 
 ground, and preparing the materials for the fort.-^ 
 
 ' Dr. Williams's Letter. Johnson's Report to the Governors. Doc. Hist. 
 N. Y. Vol. ii. * Minutes of Council, Johnson's Manuscripts, N. Y. State 
 Library. ^ Johnson's Second Report Mass. Mil. Rec. Vol. viii. p. 537. 
 
While this work was going forward, his venerable chaplain 
 preached beneath the forest shades, to those who were unem- 
 ployed, from the words — alas too prophetic — of Isaiah : 
 " Which remain among the graves, and lodge in the moun- 
 tains," ^ 
 
 A party of wagoners, who had deserted, two of whom had 
 been captured by the enemy, returned to the camp at mid- 
 night, and reported Dieskau's position. Johnson waited till 
 morning, and then called another council. Hendrick, the 
 MohaAvk chieftain, was invited to attend. It was agreed to 
 send one thousand provincials and two hundred Indians in 
 search of the enemy. Johnson, at first, proposed a smaller 
 number, and asked the opinion of Hendrick. He replied, 
 " If they are to fight, they are too few; if they are to be 
 killed, they are too many." AVhen the general proposed to 
 divide them into three parties, the old chief, putting three 
 sticks together, said, " These you cannot break ; take them 
 one by one, and you will break them easily." ^ The party was 
 not divided. 
 
 Colonel Williams was appointed to the command, and led 
 the van of five hundred men, composed of his own regiment, 
 and volunteers from the other regiments of Massachusetts. 
 Lieutenant Colonel Whiting, of New Haven, a brave officer 
 who had done good service at Louisburgh, was second in 
 command and brought up the rear. 
 
 It was a calm, bright morning of the 8th of September. 
 The sun poured his unclouded splendors upon the still lake 
 and the wooded hills, yet untouched by the autumnal frosts, 
 when the brave provincials filed from their rude camp into 
 the road. The old Mohawk sachem, " with gray hairs aii^ 
 flashing eye," mounted a stage, and poured forth, in " thun- 
 der tones," a torrent of untutored eloquence — such as had 
 been wont to stir the hearts of his dusky warriors on the 
 eve of battle. " Such," said Colonel Pomeroy, " was the 
 
 ' Williams's Biography, p. 83. * Jos. Burt to Dr. Dwight. Travels, 
 Vol. iii. p. 343. 
 
23 
 
 fii'e of his eye, the force of liis gestures, the strength of his 
 emphasis, the apparent propriety of his inflections, and the 
 natural appearance of his Avhole manner, that although I did 
 not understand a word of the language, yet I was more 
 deeply affected with this speech than with any other I had 
 ever heard." ^ 
 
 The route of Williams led up the ravine, already spoken 
 of, having the French Mountain on the left, and a range of 
 hills with a less elevation and a more gradual rise on the 
 right. Having proceeded two miles, he halted for Whitmg 
 and Hendrick, who were at some distance in the rear. 
 Flanking parties were thrown into the woods ; and while in 
 this position, a herd of frighted deer rushed down the 
 valley, between the men, but excited no suspicions.^ 
 
 Hendiick, mounted on a small horse, came up and took 
 the lead with his Mohawks. The road soon left the bottom 
 of the ravine, and gradually led up the hill-side on the right. 
 The ground became rough and steep and was covered with 
 thick woods. At the distance of another mile, and already 
 within Dieskau's ambuscade on the hill, Hendrick said to 
 Colonel Williams, " I scent Indians." Williams halted his 
 front rank for a few moments, to allow his files, which were 
 stretched along the road, to close up.-^ Hendrick continued 
 to advance until he was deep within the ambuscade, when he 
 was accosted, doubtless by a friendly Iroc[uois.'* " Whence 
 come you ? " said he. " From the Mohawks." " Whence 
 come you ? " " Montreal," was the reply. ^ 
 
 At the same moment, two Indians on the left, perceiving 
 the hesitation of the English, discharged their pieces f when 
 suddenly the deep valley below rung with the terrific yells of 
 the Abenakis and Canadians, who opened a heavy fire upon 
 the Mohawks, and the front of Williams's column. The Mo- 
 hawks stood their ground and fought bravely until Hendrick 
 
 • Dwight's Travels, Vol. iii. p. 374. ^ Ant. Researches, p. 273. 
 
 3 Johnson's Second Letter. ■» " The Iroquois showed themselves."- 
 Dieskau's Report. * Hoyt, p. 274. * Report of Gov. Gen. 
 
24 
 
 fell — shot though the back — when they were thrown into 
 confusion. The dying chief, with an Indian's pride, spent 
 his latest breath in lamentations lest such a death might leave 
 a stain upon his memory.^ 
 
 Williams, comprehending his position at a glance, ordered 
 his men to take to the woods, and gain the eminence on their 
 right. No sooner was this movement commenced, than a 
 murderous volley from the Iroquois on the hill strewed the 
 ground with the dying and dead. Williams, who was stand- 
 ing upon or by the side of a large rock, near the road, 
 received a bullet through the head, and fell dead upon the 
 spot. John Morse, late of Washington, in this county, was 
 standing by his side, and was covered with the blood of his 
 dying commander. With the aid of a comrade, he safely con- 
 cealed the body from the scalping-knife of the advancing 
 Indians.^ 
 
 The fight now became general. From the hill above and 
 the ravine below, with discordant cries, the enemy pressed 
 upon the astonished provincials, whose ranks, encumbered 
 with the retreating Mohawks, crowded the road. Colonel 
 Whiting pressed forward to support the front, which was 
 now desperately engaged with the enemy on either side. 
 Here the conflict was severest. The provincials did not 
 yield the ground without a fierce struggle.^ Most of the 
 slain fell at this spot. Here the enemy lost M. St. Pierre, 
 their brave and renowned Indian leader.'* Finding himself 
 nearly surrounded by superior numbers, who had command 
 of the ground, and his men rapidly falling around him, 
 Whiting wisely ordered a retreat. 
 
 The provmcials withdrew fi-om the hill and made a stand 
 in the rear of Bloody Pond — thus named by this day's 
 baptism — and held the enemy in check for some time. 
 Forced again to retreat, they kept up a galling fire upon their 
 
 ' Dwight, Vol. iii. ^ Morse's Relation to the late Dr. Shepherd. 
 ^ "The English stood their ground."— Gov. Gen. to French Minister. 
 * Ibid. 
 
25 
 
 pursuers, from behind rocks and trees, till they were met by 
 a reinforcement of three hundred men, sent out to cover their 
 retreat. They entered the camp at eleven o'clock, and took 
 their places, and shared with their comrades the subsequent 
 conflicts of the day. 
 
 Thus closed the fatal fray, known to our fathers as " the 
 bloody morning scout." 
 
 Justice to the comrades of Williams would seem to require 
 that we follow them through the stormy and triumphant 
 scenes which closed the day. But I must pause. Dieskau's 
 rapid advance ; the bold and confident attack ; the obstinate 
 struggle till night-fall between discipluied valor and native 
 courage ; the heroism of Lyman ; the death of Titcomb ; 
 the sad fate of Dieskau, carried, wounded and bleeding, 
 upon a blanket, into the camp which he had so confidently 
 expected to capture ; the final repulse of the enemy, and 
 their gloomy retreat in broken masses at midnight over the 
 rugged Eastern mountains to South Bay, — jfrom these my 
 wasting hour warns me to turn away. They are fully set 
 forth in the accurate description of Hoyt, in the glowing 
 pages of Dwight, and in the well compacted periods of 
 Bancroft. 
 
 The day opened upon the provincials with defeat. It 
 closed with victory — the first victory on our soil of raw- 
 recruits over the bayonet and regular discipHne. It was not 
 the last. On the morning of the 10th, a large party left the 
 camp to bury the dead in the ravine. Of the two hundred 
 and sixteen who were slain during the day,^ one hundred 
 and forty were buried, who fell in the morning.^ The Mo- 
 hawks, who led the van and were most exposed, suffered 
 most severely in proportion to the numbers engaged. Thirty- 
 two were slain, including Hendrick, their leading sachem. 
 
 * Dr. Perez Marsh's return, makes the killed 216 — wounded 96. Lieut. 
 Col. Pomeroy's letter, Sept. 10, makes the killed 191 English, and 40 In- 
 dians. An original return signed " P. W." — Peter Wraxall, aid to John- 
 son—in the possession of Dr. Sprague, makes the killed 120, wounded 80, 
 missing 62 — exclusive of Indians. ' Capt, Burke's letter to his wife. 
 
 4 
 
26 
 
 Hendrick was one of the most remarkable men of his day. 
 He was the son of a Mohegan father and a Mohawk mother, 
 and married the daughter of a Mohawk cliief By his cour- 
 age and prowess, his superior sagacity and eloquence, he had 
 risen to the highest position in his tribe — the leading one in 
 the Iroquois Confederacy. He was their chief speaker at the 
 Congress of 1754, at Albany, and boldly reproved the Eng- 
 lish for their supineness in resisting the encroachments of 
 the French. He protested against the sale of rum to his 
 people ; and asked for aid to build a church, " with a bell in 
 it ;" " which," said he, " together with the putting a stop to 
 the selling of rum, will tend to make us religious, and lead 
 better lives than we do now."^ He was the unwavering 
 friend of the English, and carried in his pocket a captain's 
 commission from the king, at the time of his death. He was 
 over sixty years of age, with " white locks and very corpu- 
 lent." His death was deeply lamented by the English. ^ 
 
 Of the provincial regiments, that of Williams lost the 
 greatest number. It was more than decimated. Forty-six 
 were killed, and twenty-six wounded. Ten commissioned 
 officers Avere slain : besides the Colonel, there were Major 
 Ashley, Captains Moses Porter, Jared Ingersoll, and Ehsha 
 Hawley ; three Lieutenants and two Ensigns. Josiah Wil- 
 liams, a brother of EjDhraim, received a severe wound from 
 which he never fully recovered. 
 
 EHsha Hawley had served under Williams, as his second 
 in command, at Fort Massachusetts. He was shot through 
 the lungs, and brought into camp, where he died a few days 
 after the battle. Moses Porter was from Hadley. His fate 
 was a cruel one. Being overtaken on the retreat, he 
 was seized, bound to a tree, and hacked in pieces by the 
 Indians."' 
 
 Colonel Wilhams was not mutilated.'' He was carried by 
 
 I Records of the Congress. N. Y. Doc. Hist. Vol. ii. * Dwight's 
 
 Travels, Vol. iii. ' Hoyt. Antiquarian Researches. 
 
 * This appears from the relation of John Morse to the late Dr. Shepherd, 
 
27 
 
 his mourning comrades to the height of land, some fifteen or 
 twenty rods in a south-easterly direction from the rock 
 where he fell, and buried at the foot of a " huge pine beside 
 the old military road." On the rough hill-side, beneath the 
 forest shades, his remains have rested, without a memorial, 
 and " undisturbed, until about twenty years ago, when his 
 nephew. Dr. William H. Williams, of Raleigh, N. C, disin- 
 terred and carried off the skull." The ancient pine has 
 fallen, and nothing but the stump remains. Yet two descen- 
 dants of the parent tree, of vigorous growth, have sprung 
 from its roots, and still shade the place of burial.^ 
 
 The rock upon which he fell, still stands by the ancient 
 road. It is an irregular quadrangle, and about seven feet in 
 height. On this rock, by your command, a marble monu- 
 ment, twelve feet high, with appropriate inscriptions, has 
 been erected during the present year, and surrounded with a 
 substantial iron fence. Long may it stand, to tell the passer- 
 by the brief story of the life and your regard for the memory 
 of Ephraim Williams ! 
 
 The father of Colonel Williams died at Deerfield in the 
 autumn of 1754, leaving to him, as the eldest son, the larger 
 portion of his estate. 
 
 When about departing from Deerfield to join the army. 
 Colonel Williams requested his brother Thomas to aid him 
 in drafting a will, — giving no intimations, however, of his 
 intentions in respect to the disposition of his property. 
 From motives of delicacy the request was declined, and the 
 matter was dropped. At Fort Massachusetts he again met 
 his old companions in arms, and gave ttem his last words of 
 
 and from the fact that his watch and sword were preserved. These are 
 now at Williams College, — having been presented by the late Dr. S. W. 
 Williams, of Deerfield. 
 
 ' Letter of E. W. B. Canning, Esq. Mr. Canning, as chairman of the 
 committee of the Alumni of Williams College, superintended the erection of 
 the monument to Williams, and explored the ground carefully. He says : 
 " Directed by an aged man who dug up the skull, I found the grave, and 
 had it refilled, and a large pyramidal boulder set over it, with the inscrip- 
 tion, ' E. W. 1755.' " 
 
28 
 
 counsel and encouragement. Tradition informs us that, at 
 the parting interview, some slight expressions fell from his 
 lips, of the purpose to leave to them, in the event of his 
 death, more substantial tokens of his regard. At Albany he 
 was reminded, by illness, of the uncertainty of life, and of 
 his cherished purpose, yet unfulfilled. His will was made 
 and executed on the 22d of July, John Worthington and 
 Israel Williams being appointed executors. After appro- 
 priate bequests, in small amounts, to relatives and personal 
 friends, the will proceeds as follows : 
 
 " It is my will and pleasure that all of the residue of my 
 real estate, not otherwise disposed of, be sold by my Exec- 
 utors, or the survivor of them, within five years after an 
 established peace, (which a good God soon grant,) according 
 to their discretion ; and that the same be put out at interest, 
 on good security ; and that the interest money yearly arising 
 therefrom, and the interest arising from my just debts due to 
 me, and not otherwise disposed of, be improved by said Ex- 
 ecutors, and by such as they shall appoint Trustees for the 
 charity aforesaid after them, for the support and maintenance 
 of a free school in the township west of Fort Massachusetts 
 (commonly called West Township) forever ; provided said 
 township fall within the jurisdiction of the Province of Mas- 
 sachusetts Bay, and continue under that jurisdiction — and 
 provided also the Governor of said Province, with the Assem- 
 bly of said Province, shall (when a suitable number of inhab- 
 itants are settled there) incorporate the same into a town by 
 the name of Williamstown ; — and if the interest of such 
 monies be more than sufficient for such a pui-pose, that which 
 remains be improved, as aforesaid, for the support of a like 
 school in the east township, in which said fort now stands ; 
 but in case the aforesaid provisos are not complied with, \dz : 
 if said West Township fall not within said Massachusetts Prov- 
 ince, or do not continue under that jurisdiction, or if it shall 
 be incorporated by any other name than that above mentioned, 
 then my will is that the interest of said monies be applied to 
 
29 
 
 some other public beneficial and charitable purpose, by my 
 Executors as above directed, respecting other parts of my 
 estate, according to their discretion and good judgment." 
 
 The Executors accepted the trust, and managed the fund — 
 originally less than five thousand dollars — with great skill 
 and fidelity. In 1785, upon their petition, a charter was 
 granted, and a Free School established in Williamstown. 
 Thus thirty years after his death, and two years after the 
 peace of Paris — an " established peace," of which he had 
 not di-eamed — the generous purpose of Williams was accom- 
 plished. " On this foundation in 1793, arose the College 
 which bears his name." , 
 
 Thus, Gentlemen, I have presented to you, as clearly as I 
 have been able, whatever is now known of the life and services 
 of Ephraim Williams. I need not be told how meagre 
 and unsatisfactory the narration has been. No man is more 
 fully aware of this than myself But if the record of his 
 acts be unsatisfactory, still more so is that of his modes of 
 thought and feeling, of his habits and personal character. 
 After no inconsiderable search, I have not been able to find 
 any thing from his own pen which reveals to us his princi- 
 ples of action, and his views upon the great subjects of life, 
 duty and destiny. For whatever is known of these, as well 
 as of his personal appearance, habits and manners, we are 
 indebted to the impressions wliich he made upon his contem- 
 poraries, as revealed in the scanty notices of the times, and 
 in the few traditions which yet linger amongst us. 
 
 From these we learn that his "person was large and 
 fleshy," his countenance benignant, and his presence com- 
 manding ; that he loved, and excelled in, the rough games 
 and feats of agility and strength, so common in his day, and 
 often engaged in them with his soldiers, during the intervals 
 of duty ; that his " address was easy, his manners simple 
 and conciUating ; " that he loved books, and the society of 
 
30 
 
 literary men, " and often lamented the want of a liberal edu- 
 cation ; " ^ that to these endowments were added the higher 
 qualities of mind — quick and clear perceptions, a solid judg- 
 ment, a lofty courage, and an unwavering constancy in scenes 
 of danger, and that military genius which needed only a fitting- 
 opportunity to place him in the highest walks of his profes- 
 sion. He knew both how to command and how to conciliate 
 the affections of his men. " He was greatly beloved by them 
 while living, and lamented when dead." And finally, in the 
 language of Colonel Worthington, who knew him well, 
 " Humanity made a most striking trait in his character, and 
 universal benevolence was his ruling passion." He truly 
 adds, "His memory will always be dear." 
 
 Colonel Williams was never married. He died in the 
 forty-first year of his age ; — cut down in the pride and 
 strength of his manhood; in the midst of his useful and 
 brilliant career ; and at a juncture when broader fields, in- 
 viting to still higher achievements, were opening before him. 
 He fell in the first campaign of that remarkable war Avhich 
 di'ove the French power from the banks of the St. Lawrence, 
 and changed the destiny of this continent forever ; — that war 
 which opened the way, and hastened the advance, and edu- 
 cated the heroes of the Revolution. With equal abilities, 
 with a larger experience, and a superior position to any of 
 these — the favorite of the people and the idol of the army — 
 what might not have been witnessed in his career, had his life 
 been prolonged to the allotted age of man ? 
 
 But his work was done ! Doubtless, in the eye of Him, 
 who sees all, and disposes of all, it was well done ! And, 
 Gentlemen, at the close of one hundred years from his death, 
 on this spot, and in the clear light of what has already 
 been accomplished by his dying bequest, shall we not also 
 respond — " His work was well done ! " 
 
 ' " Sketch of Col. Williams " — Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll., 1st Series, Vol. viii. 
 This paper was written at Williamstown, during the life- time of many who 
 had been the contemporaries of Colonel Williams. 
 
31 
 
 Nay, as Williams himself sat in his sick chamber at Al- 
 bany, and laid aside the pen with which he had made sure 
 his last act of good will to his old neighbors and friends in 
 the Hoosick valley, and contemplated its beneficent results 
 in the higher intelligence and well being of their posterity in 
 the future, — coidd the veil have been lifted, and his eye have 
 run down the line of the coming years till it rested on these 
 times, and marked the results as they now stand revealed to 
 us ; — could he have seen the little hamlet of eleven settlers,^ 
 clustered about the Fort on this hill, give place to the popu- 
 lous village, and the broad, cultivated town ; and the frontier 
 which he had defended so Avell, stretching onwards to the 
 lakes, across the Western valley to the Pacific shore ; could he 
 have beheld the Free School expanding into the College, and 
 bestowing a liberal culture upon sixty generations of generous 
 youth, sending them forth each successive year, equipped to 
 do the work of men 
 
 " On the world's broad fields of battle "; 
 
 could he have caught a glimpse of yonder maple grove, and 
 the haystack beside it, and the uplifted hands of those youth- 
 ful heroes of a new crusade, pleading for a fresh baptism upon 
 the churches ; and have seen the swift messengers of peace 
 running to all lands, and publishing salvation — and the 
 darkness hfting — and the day breaking — and heard the 
 morning song ; — would he not also, with a full heart, have 
 exclaimed : 
 
 It is well ! The ways of God are justified. I see ! There 
 is a higher prize. I see ! There is a brighter glory. It is 
 well ! Though my sun go down at noon, though I fall in the 
 first shock of battle, and others lead on to victory, and win 
 the soldier's prize ; though my poor body sleep long years in 
 the deep woods, and no kmdly tear fall, and no friendly foot 
 
 » " We are eleven families." Petition in Mass. Milit. Records, Vol. viii. 
 p. 234. 
 
32 
 
 press the spot ; — yet I shall not be forgotten. The men of 
 other ages, and far oflf lands, shall repeat my name with a 
 blessing ; it shall live with Mills on the ocean, with Hall 
 on the " burning strand ; " the monumental marble shall 
 speak it ; and the sweet valley which I love, and the everlast- 
 ing mountains around, shall guard and preserve it forever. 
 
POEM 
 
 E. W. B. CANNING, Bs 
 
 The silent march of years ! How shadowy 
 Their footfalls lie upon the lengthening path 
 Of ages ! In the horizon of the Past 
 The cloudy summits of lost cycles rise, 
 Like cumuli, far onward to the point 
 Where distance vanishes in dreaminess. 
 The roseate colors of our better days 
 Chequer their tops and intervales, and fringe 
 The traces of the tempests that have rolled 
 In Passion's war, or Sorrow's midnight hour, 
 And rioted among them. There the halls 
 Of Memory are builded, populous 
 With busy phantoms. There remembered joys 
 Flit like the murmurs of angelic love, 
 On Adam's ear in Eden, ere he fell. 
 There Gruilt, too, with her grim and hideous troop 
 Of chattering spectres, glours. 'T was thence she came 
 To haunt the crowned usurper's last, dark dream 
 On Bosworth field, and breathe the withering curse — 
 " Let me lie heavy on thy soul to-morrow ! " 
 As roll our days, the histories wherewith 
 5 
 
34 
 
 We grave their virgin tablets oft shall claim 
 
 Our re-perusal, and thrice happy they 
 
 Who read their deeds in sunbeams — not in fire. 
 
 We change : aye, not such as they find, 
 Do our years leave us. So old Flaeeus wailed — 
 " Mutantur tempora, cum illis nos 
 Mutamur" — and we prove it, even here. 
 See Williams' children, from their various homes, 
 By various fortune scattered, rallying come. 
 To take again their foster-mother's hand, 
 As when, in days ' lang syne,' she led their feet 
 Up Learning's mazy paths ; her blessing laid 
 Upon their laureled brows, and said farewell. 
 We know the homestead : unforgotten still 
 Rise the old mountains, that with giant arms 
 Engird this vale of beauty. Hoosic's stream. 
 Whose ripples with our bounding pulses chimed. 
 Still laves their bases with its changeless flow. 
 We need no guide to tell our way among 
 These fields and meadows, where our youthful eyes 
 Hailed the first verdure of returning spring ; 
 Nor on these hills, whose woods of thousand dyes 
 Looked gorgeous in the warm and mellow glow 
 Of Indian summer days, and prompted oft 
 The stolen ramble and rapt musing there. 
 Yonder still looms the venerable pile 
 Where Science wedded Mischief, and we all 
 Joyed in the merry bridal. There, of yore, 
 Nocturnally we oftener fought with beasts 
 Of bloodier fangs than the Apostle met 
 At sorry Ephesus — and lived through all. 
 The flames have surged among those honored towers ; 
 But, like the fabled bird of ancient song, 
 
35 
 
 Rejuvenated 'mid the leafy shades, 
 Rise other halls to Learning. 
 
 But not so 
 Deals time with man : behold the witnesses ! 
 Fratres Alumni ! ye are not the men 
 Whose names ye bore when College days were young. 
 I see the silvered lock, the look of care, 
 And Labor's fui-rows on your manly brows-; 
 And yet, methinks, the comely grace of youth 
 Hath comelier aspect now, that ye have met 
 The shock of Life's great battle, and have proved 
 Your stalwart arms, and the tried steel they bear. 
 The stripling soldier then — the veteran now, 
 Mayhap with armor dinted, but with hearts 
 Strong for the conflict ye must finish yet. 
 Ye've seen in fields of honorable toil 
 Full many a comrade fallen, and your van 
 In shattered columns stands ; but there is still 
 A baptism for the dead — ye 're not alone. 
 Along their honored path, and up to heaven, 
 Like pilgrims pass the venerable men 
 Who watched our wayward youth : wisely they build, 
 In life, their monuments of living hearts, 
 And multiply themselves in those to come. 
 Fathers,* we greet you ! Here our X ares are — 
 Our penetralia : here the altar-fire 
 Of love burns ever brightly, and we lay 
 Fresh incense on it now. And, honored sire,t 
 Whose is its sacred ministry, accept 
 The prayer engraven on our heart of heaarts 
 For thee — " ad coelum serus redeas " — 
 And, like the Prophet, leave thy mantle here ! 
 
 * To the Trustees. f To the President. 
 
36 
 
 Take we Imagination's wand 
 
 On yonder hill ; and lo ! 
 There lies as lay this goodly land, . 
 
 One hundred years ago. 
 The primal forest blooms and fades 
 » Above the virgin mould ; 
 And through its deep and sunless glades 
 
 Gush torrents uncontrolled. 
 Along the hills there prowls the bear, 
 
 .^nd wild deer bounding go ; 
 While wilder men their freedom share 
 
 With tomahawk and bow. 
 The tangled wilderness unbroke 
 
 By settler's axe hath been ; 
 Nor yet doth the rude cabin's smoke 
 
 Tell of the pale-faced men. 
 No busy wheels of industry 
 
 Doth Hoosic's current turn ; 
 These lawns the fenced boundary. 
 
 And plow had yet to learn. 
 What prophet, in this forest tomb 
 
 Of Natm*e, might foresee 
 Anon the vivifying womb 
 
 Of thousands yet to be ! 
 
 There stands, amid the solitude, 
 
 A man of soldier's mien ; 
 Upon his sword, in thoughtful mood. 
 
 He leans and views the scene. 
 Of noble form and generous soul. 
 
 And daring high is he ; 
 His thoughts, with seer's prescience roll 
 
 Adown futurity. 
 
37 
 
 He reads the time, when, cleared and tilled 
 
 Should be this beauteous vale ; 
 When happy homes should dot the field. 
 
 And nestle in the dale ; 
 When broad high-ways for many a mile 
 
 The war-trail should efface ; 
 And harvests wave and meadows smile 
 
 O'er the wolf's hiding-place. 
 Calmly his earnest thoughts review, 
 
 With philanthropic ken. 
 The record, wonderful and new, 
 
 Of his own countrymen. 
 The feeble germ at Plymouth rock. 
 
 Sown 'mid December's snows, 
 Unnurtured by the parent stock, 
 
 Hath blossomed like the rose. 
 Weak tens to mighty thousands grown. 
 
 An empire in a day ! 
 Since the famed dragon's teeth were sown, 
 
 Who might such marvels say ! 
 On wide futurity forecast, 
 
 His country's greatness lies ; 
 And, like a giant phantom vast, 
 
 Its bold proportions rise. 
 The imbom millions yet to be 
 
 Lords of this mighty realm — 
 How glorious their destiny 
 
 Could Virtue rule the helm ! 
 But Virtue on Intelligence 
 
 Based and upreared must be ; 
 While Tyranny weds Ignorance, 
 
 And crushes Liberty. 
 Not in proud stone — the soldier said— 
 
38 
 
 Be my remembrance shrined ; 
 Methinks a nobler praise is read 
 
 In educated mind. 
 I'll bid untrammeled thought go forth 
 
 With banners all unfurled ; 
 And speed the march of light and worth 
 
 Triumphant through the world. 
 To build fair Science' classic halls 
 
 I'll ope a heaven-blessed hand ; 
 And this sweet vale shall lift their walls, 
 
 A bulwark of the land. 
 As years elapse shall pupil youth 
 
 Go thence with noble aim ; 
 And Freedom, Virtue, Light, and Truth 
 
 Shall honor Williams' name. 
 
 The tones of war ring through the land. 
 The soldier and his valiant band 
 
 Are summoned to the field ; 
 At the loud rattle of the drum 
 In martial haste the patriots come, 
 
 With souls unused to yield. 
 The pennon to the breeze is flung ; 
 Defiant words from every tongue 
 
 Are rolled against the sky. 
 Bright is the gleam of burnished arms, 
 While mingle with the wild alarms, 
 The approaching conflict's dreadful charms, 
 
 " Rescue " — the battle cry. 
 A foreign foe invades our soil, 
 The implements of peaceful toil 
 
 Must yield to those of war : 
 
39 
 
 Leagued with the savage, lo ! he comes 
 To desolate our rising homes — 
 
 Rouse ! meet him while afar ! 
 Marshaled, at length, in stern array, 
 Northward along their desert way 
 
 Move the battalions on. 
 New England breathes in every soul, 
 As press they toward their distant goat- 
 The tranquil Horicon. 
 Alas ! beside that beauteous wave 
 Shall many an unreturning brave 
 Find his last bivouac — the grave ! 
 In his lost home his name grow dim, 
 And lone woods sigh his requiem ! 
 
 An Autumn morning's mellow beam 
 Breaks many a weary soldier's dream, 
 As pouring through the mountain gorge, 
 Like gold it glitters on Lake George. 
 Soon with loud larum-notes are stirred 
 
 The echoes round ; the sentinels 
 With ranger's practiced ear have heard 
 
 The wily foeman on the hills ; 
 And battle bides the full-born day, 
 Should scouts reveal his secret way. 
 " Rangers, be ready ! " flies the word — 
 The gallant Williams girds his sword, 
 And, ere the order runs again. 
 Stand waiting full twelve hundred men. 
 Who forth as pioneers must go, 
 The peril and the arrest to know. 
 Anon the leader and his host 
 In the dim forest aisles are lost. 
 
40 
 
 Heard ye that roar, 
 As on the shore 
 Mad billows all their passions pour "? 
 Saw ye the lightning flash 
 Heralding that thunder crash, 
 
 Mid the deep wood's gloom ? 
 It is the noise of battling men ! 
 Hark ! that volleyed surge again — 
 
 Knelling many a tomb ! 
 The war-whoop is ringing ! 
 The trumpet is flinging 
 
 Its rallying call. 
 Wild havoc is riding, 
 To many a heart guiding 
 
 The thunder-sped ball ! 
 Mid forest leaves lying, 
 The fallen and dying 
 
 Stain earth with their gore ! 
 Mid death-shots impending, 
 See valor attending 
 Those vainly defending 
 Who battle no more. 
 All hopeless the struggle ! — the foemen o'erwhelm : 
 Alas for the bark that hath parted her helm. 
 They shall rally, shall conquer, ere daylight be o'er. 
 But thy sword, gallant Williams, shall lead them no more ! 
 
 He who that field might now o'ergo. 
 Where Death his harvest reaped of wo. 
 
 And paled the warrior's brow, 
 Shall find the relics of the fray 
 Occasional along his way. 
 
 Upturned by spade or plow. 
 
41 
 
 The battered bullet, and the bone 
 
 Of fallen friend or foe unknown — 
 
 Mayhap a rusted weapon shown ; 
 
 And look o'er smiling fields afar, 
 
 Where trod the iron heel of war. 
 
 That dark, sad, pool* without a wave. 
 
 Of hundreds slain made easy grave. 
 
 Still lies as dark, as sad, as deep, 
 
 WliUe lilies o'er its bosom creep, 
 
 Unconscious that their beauties grow 
 
 From the forgotten dead below. 
 
 The peasant leaves his toil to tell 
 
 Where the brave Williams fought and fell ; 
 
 And where beside the ancient path. 
 
 When battle's storm had spent its wrath, 
 
 Beneath a huge pine's whispering crown, 
 
 In forest grave they laid him down. 
 
 Hard by a giant boulder's side 
 
 They show the spot on which he died ; 
 
 And on its summit, tall and lone, 
 
 Now stands the monumental stone. 
 
 To tell the traveler from afar 
 
 That ingrate, we no longer are. 
 
 In Time's great volume turn we now the leaves 
 Of fifty years. How mighty is the change ! 
 Dread War's ensanguined clouds no longer stain 
 Our country's sky ; the Mayflower's feeble band 
 Numbers in Freedom's nationality 
 Its thronging millions. Hoosic's fertile vale 
 With homes of sturdy yeomanry is filled. 
 
 * " Bloody Pond," into which a multitude of the dead were thrown. 
 
 5 
 
42 
 
 The wooded hill-top, where the soldier mused, 
 Bears the proud structure that records his name. 
 Already his munificence hath sent 
 Its banded ranks of educated mind, 
 To build his trophies and to crown his fame. 
 The Court, the Senate, and the sacred Desk 
 Are eloquent of Williams, and the prayer 
 That swelled his noble heart hath answered been. 
 
 Within those walls sojourning is a plain 
 And unpretending man ; no genius lights 
 His hardy features ; no ambition prompts 
 To write his name with magnates, or to walk 
 In honor's blazonry. A nobler aun 
 Stirs the deep currents of his soul, and marks 
 His tranquil brow with pregnant thoughtfulness. 
 To him life seemed no transcendental myth, 
 But stern reality — too brief to waste, 
 For trifling all too solemn, and bestowed 
 For high resolves ; for pure and holy ends ; 
 For godlike acts, and heavenward tendencies. 
 Deeply his soul had quaffed the blessed fount 
 Of Inspb-ation, and had learned of Him 
 Whose mission was — to save. With love-lit eye 
 He looked upon the nations, and his heart. 
 Swelling with gratitude to God, gushed forth, 
 In earnest longings for benighted men. 
 In the locked chambers of his inner life, 
 Where with his Maker he communed alone, 
 First caught his ear the Macedonian cry. 
 And there he answered it. The martyr-fire 
 Enkindled his devotion : all forgot 
 Was sordid self in longings for the lost. 
 What shall be done ? and how ? the doers — who ? 
 
These were his soul-plied querns, and he sought 
 Counsel and wisdom at that oracle 
 Which erst dwelt 'neath the mystic cherubim, 
 And flashed in truthful glory from the gems 
 That lighted God's own people. — It was given. 
 
 Not the proud palace halls of kings, 
 Where Grandeur flits on gilded wings ~; 
 Not the famed Temple's gorgeous pale. 
 Where Splendor spread her golden vail ; 
 But humble Bethlehem's lowly stall 
 Witnessed thine advent, Lord of all ! 
 Not in the tall cathedral, where 
 Music and incense smother prayer ; 
 Not in the councils of the great, 
 Where sages brood the affairs of state ; 
 But in a heart the proud might scorn, 
 Was the blest Cause of Missions born. 
 
 Together from yon halls go forth, 
 To seek the meadows on the north, • 
 Five noble and heroic men — 
 (Heaven grant their glorious like again !) — 
 With glowing heart, and willing hand, 
 And Mills, the hero, leads the band. 
 Of kindred souls and purpose one, 
 Unused stern duty's call to shun, 
 Retired among the new-mown hay, 
 They go to counsel and to pray ; 
 And ask, with hearts devoted, true, 
 " What wilt thou. Lord, have ms to do? " 
 There hold they converse sweet and long ; 
 There form they deep resolves and strong ; 
 And, (so to Faith 'tis given,) 
 
44 
 
 The Prophet's angel host was there, 
 Unseen amid the charmed air, 
 That gushing forth of soul to bear 
 
 On joyful wing to Heaven. 
 
 'Tis done — the day of jubilee 
 Hath dawned, Heathendom, on thee I 
 Rejoice ! the morn millennial breaks, 
 And the deep sleep of ages wakes ; 
 Joy to thee, Africa ! thy sons 
 Shall sit among the ransomed ones ! 
 Man owns, at length, his brother man : 
 Ye sunny plains of Hindostan, 
 A brighter reign awaiteth you. 
 Than Juggernaut's or dark Vishnu ! 
 Persia ! behold again the star 
 Your Magi erst beheld afar ! 
 Burmah, and barbarous Anam, 
 Shout to your neighbor, far Siam ! 
 China, with teeming millions vile ; 
 Ye land* along the classic Nile ; 
 Ye distant Islands of the Sea — 
 Where'er the enslaved of Earth may be, 
 Rise, shout, and gather with the free ! 
 
 Oh Mills ! 'tis not my humble lays 
 Can duly celebrate thy praise. 
 Thou hast a tongue in every clirpe. 
 And in the voice of latest time 
 
 Thy record shall go down. 
 Pagans redeemed, around the Throne, 
 Attest the trivunphs thou hast won, 
 
 And gem thy starry crown. 
 
45 
 
 Old Ocean holds thy wasted frame ; 
 No marble yet records thy name ; 
 
 But thy renown is blent 
 With every surge that sweeps the shore, 
 And its wide waves round earth that pour 
 Shall be of thee forevermore 
 
 A fitting monument. 
 
 Oh, if those spots where men have died 
 By thousands, whelmed in battle's tide, 
 
 Claim lasting memory, 
 Methinks the place where prayerful thought 
 Thy glorious conception wrought. 
 
 Blest Mills, should honored be. 
 And surely, if on earth be found 
 Precincts that men call " hallowed ground," 
 'T is where, to earnest pleading given. 
 Sweet Mercy's angel stooped from Heaven, 
 And blessed the cause that shall once more 
 To man his Eden lost restore. 
 
 Happy the day whose morning sun 
 Shall such memorial dawn upon ! 
 Happy the sons of Williams, who. 
 Aiming such noble task to do. 
 Shall, not the " field of fame " desire. 
 But to the fame of Field* aspire. 
 
 Such, Alma Mater, are thy trophies ! such 
 The bright example of one laureled son ! 
 
 * Hon. D. D. Field, of New York, with whom originated the project of the " Mission 
 Park," in honor of Mills and his associates, on the site of their place of prayer. 
 
46 
 
 'T is written on the empyrean, and there 
 
 Have nations read the power of sacred love, 
 
 Its mighty conquests and its vast results, 
 
 In one devoted soul that grace inspires. 
 
 Man's puny arm, infantile in itself. 
 
 Wields giant power, when the Omnipotent 
 
 Braces its sinews. Then Goliath falls 
 
 Before the youthful shepherd and his sling : 
 
 Then the maimed patriarch from an angel e'en 
 
 Extorts the benison. True heroism 
 
 Grows of stern purpose ; a strong sense of right ; 
 
 A will indomitable ; energy. 
 
 And courage quailing not though hosts oppose. 
 
 These make the man a hero ; these compose 
 
 The moral enginery whose moral power 
 
 Heaves Error's walls cyclopean. Mountains huge 
 
 Before it dwarf to molehills : obstacles, 
 
 And strong adversity but spur it on, 
 
 Waking fresh lust of triumph. If but Truth 
 
 Guide the vast engine, woe betide the wrong 
 
 That bides its coming ! It shall fall anon, 
 
 A hideous ruin, and its boasted strength 
 
 Go up, like dew, before the summer sun. 
 
 Here lay thy glorious' vigor, sainted Mills ! 
 Religion was its life ; its breath was prayer. 
 What are the laurels of the conqueror, 
 Compared with thine ? All humble though thou wert. 
 Thou 'rt written with the mighty on the rolls 
 Of God's elect. 'T was thou that laidst the tram 
 Of vast events, whose sequences are told 
 In the bright calculus of Heaven ! 'T was thou 
 Didst ope in darkened Heathendom the path 
 
47 
 
 Of the famed stone of prophecy, unhewn 
 
 By human hands, that shall a mountain be, 
 
 And fill the earth. Heaven grant that, emulous 
 
 Of thy blest fame and its reward, and stirred 
 
 By equal love for lost and ruined men, 
 
 Thousands may go from yonder hallowed spot. 
 
 Like Mills and Hall and Richards — men whose souls. 
 
 Fired with devotion, shall the standard set - 
 
 Upon earth's farthest mountains, where at last, 
 
 Shall the glad gathering of the nations be ! 
 
 Lo, it is written — He that goeth forth. 
 
 The precious seed to scatter — though with tears. 
 
 Shall come again, rejoicing with his sheaves. 
 
 Long live the missionary spirit here — 
 
 The cradle of its origin ! and long 
 
 Be the twain benefactors unforgot — 
 
 Williams, whose hand munificently built 
 
 That honored pile, and Mills, whose fervent heart 
 
 Enkindled it with fire evoked from Heaven ! 
 
 Brethren Alumni ! pleasant hours . 
 Were those we spent in Learning's bowers ; 
 And pleasant now, though older men. 
 To tell the tales of youth again. 
 As on we tread the path of years, 
 Farther the vista-ed Past appears ; 
 But there are spots in Memory's dream, 
 Whose green and beauty never dim. 
 Such we recall with joy to-day. 
 And as we erst were taught to say — 
 
 " Est bonum amavisse," 
 Let Mantua's bard still ride our wreck 
 
48 
 
 Of Latin — " forsan olira hsec 
 Juvabit meminisse." 
 Dear Alma Mater, long as staml, 
 Like pillars of our native land, 
 
 These everlasting hills, 
 Thy grateful children shall proclaim 
 In every clime thy growing fame, 
 And deathless glory gild the name 
 
 Of Williams and of Mills ! 
 
 Note. — In the foregoing, although so prominent mention has been made of Mills, as 
 the originator of the cause of Foreign Missions in cur countrj-, I would by no means 
 derogate from the worthy fame of his associates — James Eichards, F. L. Eobbins, 
 Harvey Loomis, Byram Green and others, ivho were wont to unite with him in stated 
 weekly prayer meetings in the fields and groves in the vicinity of College. But the 
 unanimous voice of the American public has ever and correctly ascribed to Mills, the 
 leadership of the glorious enterprise. - e. w. b. c. 
 
 ^'f^