Williamstown's Namesake Honored at Annual Celebration
.jpg) Photos courtesy of Janine Vellucci
Col. Ephraim Williams, right, also known as Lauren Stevens, was on hand to mark his 295th birthday. |
It was the 25th year that Williams Inn owners Marilyn and Carl Faulkner have invited townsfolk and visitors from far and near to an annual celebration of the birth of Ephraim Williams Jr., the inn's namesake and founder of Williams College.
"We do it to honor Colonel Williams and Williamstown," said Marilyn Faulkner on Sunday, as the colonel himself stood beside a giant cake inscribed "HAPPY BIRTHDAY COLONEL WILLIAMS 1715 - 2010."
Williams was being portrayed by Lauren R. Stevens, a local writer and environmentalist, who wore period clothing and eyeglasses perched on his nose. "I'm not as big as Ephraim was," said the trim Stevens as he stood beside the cake.
In the inn's lobby, members of the Silver Grey Militia Company of the Berkshires, authentic powder horns and ammunition bags slung over their shoulders, examined their muskets.
"The fifers and drummers get better and better every year," said Faulkner, adding they like to make a little noise about the colonel's birthday because "it's a quiet time of year."
Williams lost his life in 1755 in a military campaign near the shores of Lake George, N.Y. In his will, he bequeathed a sizeable sum to founding a free school in what is now Williamstown. The free school opened in 1792 and a year later was chartered as a tuition college, the state's second oldest college after Harvard.
The colonel's remains were buried close to where he died but were eventually transferred to the vault of Thompson Memorial Chapel at the college.
 The celebration was held at the William Inn. Owners Marilyn and Carl Faulkner have been marking the colonel's birthday for 25 years. |
Cambria was using a lucet, an 18th-century tool for making cord out of thread. "The cord could be used as a drawstring for lacing bodices," Szczesniak said. "Bodices had whale bones in them. You would not have been a 'loose' woman."
Szczesniak's other daughter Kathleen, 5, was sitting on the floor near a fireplace in the inn, playing with handcrafted wooden toys. When asked if eating birthday cake was what she especially enjoyed at the party, she replied, with surety, "Even if it's not lemon, I'll like it." Her mother explained that Kathleen had lemon cake in school recently and now it's her favorite kind
All the Szczesniaks were dressed in period clothing.
"I should have an apron over my dress as women of the 18th century did," said Lucinda Szczesniak. "They wore plain aprons at home and good ones when they went out."
Another partygoer, Kathleen McCormick of Nutley, N.J., had been staying at the inn for the weekend.
"I was here for our 21st family reunion," she said. "There were 66 of us this year." McCormack and her family usually leave the inn early Sunday morning, but this year, they decided to stay later for the birthday party, which started around half past noon.
Fifers and drummers began playing "Yankee Doodle" around 12:45 as the militia paraded through the public rooms on the main floor, with "Ephraim Williams" following. Carl Faulkner carried an American flag and three members of the militia carried flags with "Silver Greys," "An appeal to Heaven" and "Don't Tred on Me."
The militia members lined up along Main Street in front of the inn and the leader ordered them to "Load."
It was a beautiful day that held the promise of spring — clear sky, temperatures hovering near 50 degrees, benign breeze. No wind, rain or snow that would cause the black powder to fail to ignite, so the troops were able to immediately obey their leader's command to fire.
Thrice he ordered the troops to load and fire, and whenever a mother heard him say "Fire," she put her hands over the ears of her toddler, who was wearing a white period cap. The noise of the muskets being fired, however, did not deter a couple curious children from moving closer to the troops and their adults grasped their hands to pull them away.
When the party was brought inside again, Carl Faulkner introduced the guest of honor to the group that had gathered around him.
"I'm 295 years old," announced "Williams."
"You are very well preserved," responded Faulkner, "it must have something to do with the Williamstown air."
