upon a subsequent visit, with the consent of her parents, conveyed her to Boston and placed her at the best school, Ten years later, the connection between this high official and his fair protégée causing scandal, Frankland purchased some five hundred acres of land in Hopkinton, which he laid out and cultivated with taste, built a stately country-house and extensive farm buildings, and there entertained all the gay companions he could collect with deer and fox hunts without doors, with music and feasting within doors, duly attending the church of his neighbor, the Rev. Roger Price, late of King's Chapel, Boston, of which Frankland had been, from his arrival, a member. Called to England by the death of his uncle, whose title he inherited as fourth baronet, he journeyed to Lisbon, and there, upon All Saints' Day, 1755, on his way to high mass, he was engulfed by the earthquake, his horses killed, and he would have perished miserably but for his discovery and rescue by the devoted Agnes. Grateful and penitent, he led her to the altar, and poor Agnes Surriage, the barefooted maid-of-all-work of the inn at Marblehead, was translated into Lady Agnes Frankland.

It was upon Sir Harry Frankland's return from Europe in 1756 that he became the owner of the Clark house, lived in it one short year, entertaining continually with the assistance of Thomas, his French cook, as appears by frequent entries in his journal; was then transferred to Lisbon as Consul General, and so, with the exception of brief visits to this country in 1759 and 1763, disappeared from our horizon. After his death at Bath, England, in 1768, his widow returned here with Henry Cromwell, but not until she had recorded her husband's virtues

upon a monument "erected by his affectionate widow, Agnes, Lady Frankland," - dividing her year between Boston and Hopkinton, exchanging civilities with those who had once rejected her, till the contest with England rendered all loyalists and officials unpopular. Defended from molestation by a guard of six soldiers, Lady Frankland entered Boston about the first of June, 1775, witnessed from her window in Garden Court Street the battle of Bunker Hill, took her part in relieving the sufferings of the wounded officers, and then in her turn. disappeared with Henry Cromwell, leaving her estates in the hands of members of her family. She lived a few years with the Frankland family in England, married a second time in 1782, and died in 1783.

She is described as altogether a very lovely creature, with a majestic gait, dark lustrous eyes, clear melodious voice, and a sweet smile, graceful and dignified manners, readily adapting herself to her rapid change of position, winning the affection of her husband's well-born relatives, while she never forgot nor forsook her own humble kindred.

One gets a very favorable impression of Sir Henry Frankland from his journal and from the transmitted facts of his life. He was a liberal giver, as the records of the King's Chapel attest, a lover of hospitality, a warm friend, constantly remitting to a large circle at home tokens of his affectionate remembrance, living in friendly relations with his more Puritan neighbors in town, helpful to those in the country, courteous and considerate to all, independent in judgment, as his comments upon the policy of the government manifest. The errors of his

youth, for he came here as Collector at the age of twentyfive, he sought to repair. His natural son, Henry Cromwell, he brought home to be cherished by his wife, had him educated, and provided for him handsomely in his will. Penitent for his betrayal of the young girl who had trusted in him, he made her his wife, welcomed all her family, sailor brother included, to his hospitable home, treating as his own two of her sister's children; 2 was a considerate, loving husband while living, and at his death divided his fortune between her and Henry Cromwell.

A strange, eventful history, facts too improbable for fiction, to be told only by a poet, who should conjure up the thoughts that entered the mind, the feelings that agitated the heart, of this fair, sweet Agnes, as she sat at the window of her painted parlor in Garden Court Street, gazing by turns at the Old North Meeting-House and into the great buttonwood by its side, while the diorama of her life passed before her mind's eye.

Upon Lady Frankland's death the town mansion, which had escaped confiscation, passed by her will to her family, and was by them sold in 1811 for $8,000 to Mr. Joshua Ellis, a retired North End merchant, who resided there until his death.

Upon the widening of Bell Alley in 1832, these two

1 Henry Cromwell became an officer in the British navy, had a creditable record, and finally left it rather than fight against his native country.

2 Among the interesting relics in possession of Mr. Rowland Ellis is a well-painted picture of two children left in a panel over the mantel of one of the chambers when the house was sold by Isaac Surriage to Mr. Ellis. Circumstances tend to the belief that these are portraits of John and Sally M'Clester, the two children here mentioned.

proud mansions, long since deserted by the families whose importance they were erected to illustrate and perpetuate, objects of interest to the poet, the artist, and the historian, alike for their association with a seemingly remote past, their antique splendor, and for the series of strange, romantic incidents in the lives of their successive occupants, were ruthlessly swept away.

BROAD STREET RIOT

THE extracts from the "Boston Almanac," given by Scituate in your paper of the 21st, recall many events, among others the great riot in Broad Street, June 11, 1837. It was Sunday. I was at Dr. Channing's church, Federal Street, that afternoon, when the fire bells rang. Brooks No. 11 came clattering and jingling down Franklin Street and by the church. I concluded it was one of the false alarms firemen were in the habit of giving Sunday afternoon for the amusement of getting out the engine. After church I walked out to Brookline to tea at my uncle's, and on my return, at nine o'clock, found a notification to appear at the armory of the Cadets, which I obeyed; but no one was there. The next morning I learned that one of the fire engines sluing round the corner on East Street had broken into an Irish funeral procession with or without malice prepense; a running fight had ensued, which culminated where Sea Street became Broad Street, near the head of India Wharf. Here some of the Irish houses had been despoiled because of missiles from windows, and the broken glass and wrecked furniture strewn in all directions indicated a prolonged fight.

Mayor Eliot had been apprised of this combat, and with surprising promptness arrived upon the scene on horseback, accompanied by Colonel Henderson Inches