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Page 74
"Our member" spared neither whip nor spur, and joined the triumphal
march at Chicago. Mr. Webster was then on the home-stretch, and it was
shortly after this date that the incident I describe occurred. It was a
time of wild Western speculation; towns and cities sprung into being as
buoyantly as soap-bubbles, and often proved as perishing. Major Morse
was president of a company which, perceiving a promising site for harbor
and town on the shore of Michigan, where yet the Indian charmed the
deer, secured a tract of land and proceeded to lay out an inviting town
of--corner-lots. The major's family occupied temporarily a wide log
house, with a rough "lean-to" of bright pine boards freshly cut at the
mill below. Outside, the dwelling was merely a hut of primitive pattern
nestling under the shade of a tall tree; inside, it presented a large
room divided by curtains into cooking-and sleeping-apartments,
surmounted by a stifling loft reached by the rungs of a permanent
perpendicular ladder. Savory odors of wild fowl and venison daily
drifted up the charred throat of its clay-daubed chimney, and by the
same route, whenever the rolling smoke permitted, children sitting about
the hearth took observations of the clouds and heavenly bodies,
according to the time of day. A narrow passage cut through the heart of
the old logs led into the fragrant "lean-to," where against the wall
rested a massive sideboard of dark mahogany, its top alight with glitter
of glass and silver, its inmost recesses redolent of the creature
comforts which the hospitality of the times demanded. Vases and meaner
crockery overflowed everywhere with the gorgeousness of blossoms daily
plucked from sandy slopes or the verge of the adjacent marsh. Bright
carpeting kindly hid the splintered floor, and pictures did like service
for the rough walls, while the whitest of muslin festooned the tiny
windows.
On the morning of the Occasion, cheerful sunshine filtered through the
quivering leaves of the big tree near the house, glorifying a late
breakfast-table, around which the family were gathering, when horses
driven in hot haste were reined up at the door. Stepping quickly forth,
the major found his hand clasped by "our member," who begged the
hospitalities of the house for the great Daniel Webster and suite, just
at hand. Despite political differences, the desired welcome was heartily
accorded, and with crucified appetites the family retired to give place
to the unbidden guests, who filed into the room bandying compliments
with their gay host. A kingly head, grandly set above powerful
shoulders, easily marked the man in whom the interest of the hour
centred. Strangely quiet amid the noisy group, he moved alone, nor waked
responsive even to his host, until a brighter sally than usual provoked
a grim kind of laughter. Then he suddenly aroused himself to new life,
joining with a burst of humor in the pleasantries of the feast. The
unexpected brightness of the cosy room was not lost on Mr. Webster, who,
on entering, paused at the threshold and glanced around in an
appreciative manner, while a deep, restful sigh escaped his weary soul.
The dreary drive through the wilderness lent an added charm to the
little oasis of civilized comfort thus encountered in the lonely
backwoods of a Western quarter-section.
News of the distinguished arrival speedily flew among the laborers
running the mill and constructing dwellings for the in-rushing
population. Tom and Bill of the hammer, and Mike and Patsey of the
spade, alike forsook their tools in order to witness the exit of a hero
from the major's door. They even hoped to receive some expression of
wisdom in golden words from lips used to the flow of stirring thought
and burning eloquence. Lounging patiently under the trees, the expectant
men listened to the clink and clatter of serving and the bursts of
merriment within. At the conclusion of the breakfast and the subsequent
chat, Mr. Webster asked for his hostess, to whom with great courtesy he
expressed his sense of "the kindness extended to the stranger in a
strange land," and, adieus being over, he approached the open door-way,
and looked strangely annoyed at the sight of a double line of
white-sleeved stalwart men who stood with bared heads awaiting his
appearance. Then a great _mood_ fell upon the _man_, with
never a gentle soul at hand to charm it away. Not a feature stirred in
recognition of the, voluntary homage rendered by the throng of humble
men,--men controlling the ballots so ardently desired and sought. With
hat pressed firmly over an ominously lowering brow, looking straight
before him with cavernous, tired eyes which seemed to observe nothing
whereon they rested, Webster walked through the hushed lines in grave
stateliness. The crowd was only waiting for a spark of encouragement to
shout itself hoarse in enthusiastic huzzahs. Eyes shone with suppressed
excitement, and strong hearts swelled with pride in the towering man
whose fame had surged like a tidal wave over the land. Yet with insolent
deliberation he mounted the step and seated himself in the waiting
carriage, giving no sign of having even noticed the flattering
demonstration made in his honor. The smiles, nods, and hand-clasps
expected of the chief were lavishly dispensed by his mortified
satellites, all of which availed not to smother the curses, loud and
deep, splitting the summer air, as the wheels disappeared in the forest.
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