Bay State Monthly, Vol. I, No. 3, March, 1884 by Various


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Page 13

After referring to the two former occasions when he had visited that
historic shaft, when his father had spoken there, he added, "I now stand
again at its base, and renew once more, on this national altar, vows,
not for the first time made, of devotion to my country, its Constitution
and Union."

With these words upon his lips, with these sentiments in his heart, and
in the hearts of the thousand brave men of his command, Colonel Webster
went forth, the dauntless champion and willing martyr of the Union.
Except that the death of a beloved daughter brought him back for a few
days to his family in the following summer, the people of Massachusetts
saw his living face no more.

On the thirtieth of August, 1862, the second day of the second battle of
Bull Run, late in the afternoon, while gallantly directing the movements
of his regiment, and giving his orders in those clear, firm, ringing
tones, which, in the tumult of battle, fall so gratefully on the
soldier's ear, Colonel Webster was shot through the body; and the
Federal forces being closely pressed at the time, he was left to die on
the field in Confederate hands. As the event became known through the
country, thousands of generous hearts, in the South as well as in the
North, recalled the peroration of his father's reply to Hayne, and
bitterly regretted that, when his eyes were turned to behold for the
last time the sun in heaven, it had been his unhappy lot to "see him
shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union,
on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent, on a land rent with
internal feuds, and drenched [as then it was] with fraternal blood."

In the time-honored song of Roland, we are told, "Count Roland lay under
a pine-tree dying, and many things came to his remembrance." As it was
with Count Roland in Spain, so it was with Colonel Webster in Virginia.
In the multitude of memories which rushed upon him as he lay dying on
that ill-starred battle-field, we may be sure that Boston, Bunker Hill,
and the home and grave of Marshfield, were not forgotten.

The body of Colonel Webster was willingly given up by the Confederates,
and after lying in state in Faneuil Hall, and adding another to the
immortal recollections which ennoble "the cradle of liberty," it was
buried near his father's grave by the sea.

The Grand Army Post at Brockton, containing survivors of the Webster
Regiment, has adopted Colonel Webster's name; and on each Memorial Day,
members of this Post make a pilgrimage to Marshfield to decorate his
grave. His life is remarkable for its apparent possibilities rather than
for its actual achievements,--for the capabilities which were recognized
in him, rather than for what he accomplished, either in public or
professional life. His military career was cut short by a Confederate
bullet before opportunity demonstrated that capacity for high command,
which his superior officers, as well as his soldiers, believed him to
possess. The instincts of the soldier are often as trustworthy as the
judgment of the commander. All his soldiers loved him,--

--"honored him, followed him,
Dwelt in his mild and magnificent eye,
Heard his great language, caught his clear accents,
Made him their pattern to do and to die."


While the regret still lingers, that he was not permitted to witness,
and to contribute further effort to secure, the triumph, which he
predicted, of the cause for which he died--that regret is mitigated by
the reflection, that he could never have died more honorably than in a
war which could only have been avoided by the sacrifice of the
Constitution and the Union.

[Footnote 1: This banner now hangs in the Doric Hall at the State House,
where its mute eloquence has often started tears, and "thoughts too deep
for tears," in many a casual visitor.]

* * * * *




EARLY HARVARD.

By the Rev. Josiah Lafayette Seward, A.M.


The valuable histories of Harvard University, by Quincy, Peirce, and
Eliot, and the wonderfully full and accurate sketches of the early
graduates, by John Langdon Sibley, the venerable librarian emeritus, are
treasuries of interesting information in regard to the early customs and
the first presidents and pupils of that institution. From these various
works we have gathered the following items of interest, which we will
give, without stopping at every step to indicate the authorities. Mr.
Sibley has preserved the ancient spelling, which is so quaint, that we
shall attempt to reproduce it.

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