Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1902-12-04


| learning II was a monks life that /
| lived: austere and without incident, but
bracing as the air of the hills. The whole
system was monastic. though abomina-
ton alighted on that word in Longmead-
ow. 1 took the discipline into my blood.
1t will go down to those after me.
There a man had to walk with God
whether he wanted to or not.
Living was inexpensive. each item be-
ing gagged by careful housekeeping. 1t
was a sin to gorge the blood and godly
| conversation was better than abundance.
Yet the pastors tea-table arises with a
! halo around it. The rye and Indian bread.
the doughnuts fragrant as flowers, the
sparing tea, the prim mats which saved
the cloth, the wire screen covering sponge
cake--how sacred they seem!
The autumn that came to Longmead-
ow Napoleon Bonaparte was beaten on
the sea by the English, but won the bat
tie of Austerlitz, defeating the Russian
coalition and changing the map of Eu-
rope.
1 felt sometimes a puppet while this
man played his great part. 1t was no
comfort that others of my house were
nothing to France. Though / did not
see Louis Philippe again, he wandered
in America two or three years, and went
back to privacy.
During my early novitiate at Longmead-
ow, Aaron Burr's, conspiracy went to
pieces, dragging down with it that pleas
ant gentleman, Harmon Blennerhassett,
startling men like Jackson, who had best
befriended him unawares. But this in
nowise affected my own plans of en-
pire, The solidarity of a nation of Indians
on remote tract could be no menace to
the general government.
Skenedonk came and went and I made
Journeys to my people with him. But
there was never any letter waiting at De
Chaumont's for me. After some years
indeed, the count having returned to Cas-
torland. to occupy his new manor at lie
Rayville, the mansion I had known was
torn down and the stone converted to
other uses. Skenedonk brought me word
early that Mademoiselle de Chaumont had
been married to an officer of the empire,
and would remain in France.
The door between my past and me was
sealed. Madame de Ferrier stood on the
other side of it, and no news from her
penetrated it's dense barrier. l tried to
write letters to her. But nothing that
1 could write was fit to send, and I knew,
not whether she was yet at Mont-Louis.
Forever she was holding the door against
me. 4kf8
Skenedonk, coming and going at his ca
price, stayed a month in every year at
Longmeadow, where the townspeopie,
having had surfeit of aboriginal names,
called him John. He raised no objection,
for that with half dozen other Christian
titles had been bestowed on him in bap-
tism; and he entered the cody list of
Williames as John Williams.
The first summer spent in Longmead-
ow there was an eclipse of the sun about
the middle of June. I remember lying
on open land, my book on its face be-
side me, and watching It through my eye
lashes; until thu weird and awful twi-
Light of a blotted sun In mid-heaven sent
birds and beasts to shelter as from wrath.
When there was but a hairy shining
around the orbed blackness, and stars
trembled out and trembled back, as If
they said: I'VE are here. The old order
will return" and the earth held it's breath
at threat Of eternal darkness, the one
loved seemed to approach in the long
shadows. 1t was a sign that out Of the
worst comes the best. But it was a ter
ror to the unprepared; and Pastor Storrs
preached about it the following Sunday.
The missionary spirit of Longmeadow
stirred among the Williamses,l and many
of them brought what they called their
mites to Pastor Storrs FOR my education.
If l were made king no revenue could
be half so sweet as thaE The village was
richer than many stonier New England
place. but men were struggling then all
over the wide states and territories for
material existence.
The pension no longer came from Eu-
rope. 1t ceased when I returned from
France. It's former payment was consid-
cred apocryphal by Longmeadow. whose
very maids-too white, with a pink spot
in each cheek-smiled with reserved
amusement at a student who thought il
possible he could ever be king. I spoke
TO nobody but Pastor Storrs about my
own convictions. But local newspapers,
with their omniscient grip on what is in
the air, banded the subject back and
forth.
We sometimes walked in the burying
ground among dead WiIliamses, while he
argued down my claims, leaving them
without a leg to stand on. Reversing the
usual ministerial formula, IF what has
been said is true, then it follows, first,
secondly" and so on. he used to say:
''Eleazar, you were brought up among
the Indians, conscious only of bodily ex-
istence. and Unconscious of your origin;
granted. Money was sent-let us say
from Europe-for your support; granted.
Several persons, among them one who
testified strongly against his will, told
you that you resembled the Bourbons;
granted. You bear on your person marks
like those which were inflicted on the I'M
fortunate dauphin of France; granted.
You were Indignantly pursued while
abroad; granted. But what does 1t all
prove? Nothing II amounts simply to
this: You know nothing about your early
years; some foreign person-perhaps an
English Williams-kindly interested him
self in your upbringing; you were proba-
bly, scalded In the camps you have some
accidental traits of the Bourbons; a man
who heard you had a larger pension than
the idiot he was tending, disliked you.
You can prove nothing more"
never attempted to prove anything
more to Pastor Storrs. 1t would have
been most ungrateful to persuade him
was an alien. At the same time he proph-
esied his hopes of me. and many a Judi
cious person blamed him for treating me
as something out of the ordinary, and
cockering up pride.
A blunter Williams used to take me by
the button on the street.
"Eleazar Williams" he would say. edo
you pretend to be the son of the French
king? / tell you what i will not let the