The occasion of Mr. Webster’s
first appearance in court has been the subject of
varying tradition. It is certain, however, that
in the counties where he practised during his residence
at Boscawen, he made an unusual and very profound
impression. The effect then produced is described
in homely phrase by one who knew him well. The
reference is to a murder trial, in which Mr. Webster
gained his first celebrity.
“There was a man tried for his
life, and the judges chose Webster to plead for
him; and, from what I can learn, he never has spoken
better than he did there where he first began.
He was a black, raven-haired fellow, with an
eye as black as death’s, and as heavy as
a lion’s, that same heavy look, not
sleepy, but as if he didn’t care about
anything that was going on about him or anything anywhere
else. He didn’t look as if he was thinking
about anything, but as if he would think
like a hurricane if he once got waked up to it.
They say the lion looks so when he is quiet....
Webster would sometimes be engaged to argue a
case just as it was coming to trial. That
would set him to thinking. It wouldn’t wrinkle
his forehead, but made him restless. He
would shift his feet about, and run his hand
up over his forehead, through his Indian-black hair,
and lift his upper lip and show his teeth, which
were as white as a hound’s.”
Of course the speech so admired then
was infinitely below what was done afterwards.
The very next was probably better, for Mr. Webster
grew steadily. This observer, however, tells
us not what Mr. Webster said, but how he looked.
It was the personal presence which dwelt with every
one at this time.
Thus with his wonderful leonine look
and large, dark eyes, and with the growing fame which
he had won, Mr. Webster betook himself to Portsmouth.
He had met some of the leading lawyers already, but
now he was to be brought into direct and almost daily
competition with them. At that period in New
England there was a great rush of men of talent to
the bar, then casting off its colonial fetters and
emerging to an independent life. The pulpit had
ceased to attract, as of old; medicine was in its infancy;
there were none of the other manifold pursuits of
to-day, and politics did not offer a career apart.
Outside of mercantile affairs, therefore, the intellectual
forces of the old Puritan commonwealths, overflowing
with life, and feeling the thrill of youthful independence
and the confidence of rapid growth in business, wealth,
and population, were concentrated in the law.
Even in a small State like New Hampshire, presenting
very limited opportunities, there was, relatively
speaking, an extraordinary amount of ability among
the members of the bar, notwithstanding the fact that
they had but just escaped from the condition of colonists.
Common sense was the divinity of both the courts and
the profession. The learning was not extensive
or profound, but practical knowledge, sound principles,
and shrewd management were conspicuous. Jeremiah
Smith, the Chief Justice, a man of humor and cultivation,
was a well read and able judge; George Sullivan was
ready of speech and fertile in expedients; and Parsons
and Dexter of Massachusetts, both men of national
reputation, appeared from time to time in the New
Hampshire courts. Among the most eminent was William
Plumer, then Senator, and afterwards Governor of the
State, a well-trained, clear-headed, judicious man.
He was one of Mr. Webster’s early antagonists,
and defeated him in their first encounter. Yet
at the same time, although a leader of the bar and
a United States Senator, he seems to have been oppressed
with a sense of responsibility and even of inequality
by this thin, black-eyed young lawyer from the back
country. Mr. Plumer was a man of cool and excellent
judgment, and he thought that Mr. Webster on this occasion
was too excursive and declamatory. He also deemed
him better fitted by mind and temperament for politics
than for the law, an opinion fully justified in the
future, despite Mr. Webster’s eminence at the
bar. In another case, where they were opposed,
Mr. Plumer quoted a passage from Peake’s “Law
of Evidence.” Mr. Webster criticised the
citation as bad law, pronounced the book a miserable
two-penny compilation, and then, throwing it down with
a fine disdain, said, “So much for Mr. Thomas
Peake’s compendium of the ’Law of Evidence.’”
Such was his manner that every one present appeared
to think the point settled, and felt rather ashamed
of ever having heard of Mr. Peake or his unfortunate
book. Thereupon Mr. Plumer produced a volume of
reports by which it appeared that the despised passage
was taken word for word from one of Lord Mansfield’s
decisions. The wretched Peake’s character
was rehabilitated, and Mr. Webster silenced. This
was an illustration of a failing of Mr. Webster at
that time. He was rough and unceremonious, and
even overbearing, both to court and bar, the natural
result of a new sense of power in an inexperienced
man. This harshness of manner, however, soon
disappeared. He learned rapidly to practise the
stately and solemn courtesy which distinguished him
through life.
There was one lawyer, however, at
the head of his profession in New Hampshire, who had
more effect upon Mr. Webster than any other whom he
ever met there or elsewhere. This was the man
to whom the Shaker said: “By thy size and
thy language I judge that thou art Jeremiah Mason.”
Mr. Mason was one of the greatest common-lawyers this
country has ever produced. Keen and penetrating
in intellect, he was master of a relentless logic and
of a style which, though simple and homely, was clear
and correct to the last point. Slow and deliberate
in his movements, and sententious in his utterances,
he dealt so powerfully with evidence and so lucidly
with principles of law that he rarely failed to carry
conviction to his hearers. He was particularly
renowned for his success in getting verdicts.
Many years afterwards Mr. Webster gave it as his deliberate
opinion that he had never met with a stronger intellect,
a mind of more native resources or quicker and deeper
vision than were possessed by Mr. Mason, whom in mental
reach and grasp and in closeness of reasoning he would
not allow to be second even to Chief Justice Marshall.
Mr. Mason on his side, with his usual sagacity, at
once detected the great talents of Mr. Webster.
In the first case where they were opposed, a murder
trial, Mr. Webster took the place of the Attorney-General
for the prosecution. Mr. Mason, speaking of the
impression made by his youthful and then unknown opponent,
said:
“He broke upon me like a thunder
shower in July, sudden, portentous, sweeping
all before it. It was the first case in which
he appeared at our bar; a criminal prosecution
in which I had arranged a very pretty defence,
as against the Attorney-General, Atkinson, who
was able enough in his way, but whom I knew very well
how to take. Atkinson being absent, Webster
conducted the case for him, and turned, in the
most masterly manner, the line of my defences,
carrying with him all but one of the jurors, so that
I barely saved my client by my best exertions.
I was nevermore surprised than by this remarkable
exhibition of unexpected power. It surpassed,
in some respects, anything which I have ever since
seen even in him.”
With all his admiration for his young
antagonist, however, one cannot help noticing that
the generous and modest but astute counsel for the
defence ended by winning his case.
Fortune showered many favors upon
Mr. Webster, but none more valuable than that of having
Jeremiah Mason as his chief opponent at the New Hampshire
bar. Mr. Mason had no spark of envy in his composition.
He not only regarded with pleasure the great abilities
of Mr. Webster, but he watched with kindly interest
the rapid rise which soon made this stranger from the
country his principal competitor and the champion commonly
chosen to meet him in the courts. He gave Mr.
Webster his friendship, staunch and unvarying, until
his death; he gave freely also of his wisdom and experience
in advice and counsel. Best of all was the opportunity
of instruction and discipline which Mr. Webster gained
by repeated contests with such a man. The strong
qualities of Mr. Webster’s mind rapidly developed
by constant practice and under such influences.
He showed more and more in every case his wonderful
instinct for seizing on the very heart of a question,
and for extricating the essential points from the midst
of confused details and clashing arguments. He
displayed, too, more strongly every day his capacity
for close, logical reasoning and for telling retort,
backed by a passion and energy none the less effective
from being but slowly called into activity. In
a word, the unequalled power of stating facts or principles,
which was the predominant quality of Mr. Webster’s
genius, grew steadily with a vigorous vitality while
his eloquence developed in a similar striking fashion.
Much of this growth and improvement was due to the
sharp competition and bright example of Mr. Mason.
But the best lesson that Mr. Webster learned from his
wary yet daring antagonist was in regard to style.
When he saw Mr. Mason go close to the jury box, and
in a plain style and conversational manner, force
conviction upon his hearers, and carry off verdict
after verdict, Mr. Webster felt as he had never done
before the defects of his own modes of expression.
His florid phrases looked rather mean, insincere, and
tasteless, besides being weak and ineffective.
From that time he began to study simplicity and directness,
which ended in the perfection of a style unsurpassed
in modern oratory. The years of Mr. Webster’s
professional life in Portsmouth under the tuition
of Mr. Mason were of inestimable service to him.
Early in this period, also, Mr. Webster
gave up his bachelor existence, and made for himself
a home. When he first appeared at church in Portsmouth
the minister’s daughter noted and remembered
his striking features and look, and regarded him as
one with great capacities for good or evil. But
the interesting stranger was not destined to fall
a victim to any of the young ladies of Portsmouth.
In the spring of 1808 he slipped away from his new
friends and returned to Salisbury, where, in May, he
was married. The bride he brought back to Portsmouth
was Grace Fletcher, daughter of the minister of Hopkinton.
Mr. Webster is said to have seen her first at church
in Salisbury, whither she came on horseback in a tight-fitting
black velvet dress, and looking, as he said, “like
an angel.” She was certainly a very lovely
and charming woman, of delicate and refined sensibilities
and bright and sympathetic mind. She was a devoted
wife, the object of her husband’s first and
strongest love, and the mother of his children.
It is very pleasant to look at Mr. Webster in his
home during these early years of his married life.
It was a happy, innocent, untroubled time. He
was advancing in his profession, winning fame and
respect, earning a sufficient income, blessed in his
domestic relations, and with his children growing up
about him. He was social by nature, and very
popular everywhere. Genial and affectionate in
disposition, he attached everybody to him, and his
hearty humor, love of mimicry, and fund of anecdote
made him a delightful companion, and led Mr. Mason
to say that the stage had lost a great actor in Webster.
But while he was thus enjoying professional
success and the contented happiness of his fireside,
he was slowly but surely drifting into the current
of politics, whither his genius led him, and which
had for him an irresistible attraction. Mr. Webster
took both his politics and his religion from his father,
and does not appear to have questioned either.
He had a peculiarly conservative cast of mind.
In an age of revolution and scepticism he showed no
trace of the questioning spirit which then prevailed.
Even in his earliest years he was a firm believer in
existing institutions, in what was fixed and established.
He had a little of the disposition of Lord Thurlow,
who, when asked by a dissenter why, being a notorious
free-thinker, he so ardently supported the Established
Church, replied: “I support the Church
of England because it is established. Establish
your religion, and I’ll support that.”
But if Mr. Webster took his religion and politics
from his father in an unquestioning spirit, he accepted
them in a mild form. He was a liberal Federalist
because he had a wide mental vision, and by nature
took broad views of everything. His father, on
the other hand, was a rigid, intolerant Federalist
of a thorough-going Puritan type. Being taken
ill once in a town of Democratic proclivities, he
begged to be carried home. “I was born a
Federalist,” he said, “I have lived a
Federalist, and I won’t die in a Democratic town.”
In the same way Ezekiel Webster’s uncompromising
Federalism shut him out from political preferment,
and he would never modify his principles one jot in
order to gain the seat in Congress which he might easily
have obtained by slight concessions. The broad
and liberal spirit of Daniel Webster rose superior
to the rigid and even narrow opinions of his father
and brother, but perhaps it would have been better
for him if he had had in addition to his splendid
mind the stern, unbending force of character which
made his father and brother stand by their principles
with immovable Puritan determination. Liberal
as he was, however, in his political opinions, the
same conservative spirit which led him to adopt his
creed made him sustain it faithfully and constantly
when he had once accepted it. He was a steady
and trusted party man, although neither then nor at
any time a blind, unreasoning partisan.
Mr. Webster came forward gradually
as a political leader by occasional addresses and
speeches, at first with long intervals between them,
and then becoming more frequent, until at last he
found himself fairly engaged in a public career.
In 1804, at the request of some of his father’s
friends, he published a pamphlet, entitled, “An
Appeal to Old Whigs,” in the interest of Gilman,
the Federal candidate for governor. He seems to
have had a very poor opinion of this performance,
and his interest in the success of the party at that
juncture was very slight. In 1805 he delivered
a Fourth of July oration at Salisbury, which has not
been preserved; and in the following year he gave
another before the “Federal gentlemen”
of Concord, which was published. The tone of
this speech is not very partisan, nor does it exhibit
the bitter spirit of the Federalists, although he attacked
the administration, was violent in urging the protection
of commerce, and was extremely savage in his remarks
about France. At times the style is forcible,
and even rich, but, as a rule, it is still strained
and artificial. The oration begins eagerly with
an appeal for the Constitution and the Republic, the
ideas always uppermost in Mr. Webster’s mind.
As a whole, it shows a distinct improvement in form,
but there are no marks of genius to raise it above
the ordinary level of Fourth of July speeches.
His next production was a little pamphlet, published
in 1808, on the embargo, which was then paralyzing
New England, and crushing out her prosperity.
This essay is important because it is the first clear
instance of that wonderful faculty which Mr. Webster
had of seizing on the vital point of a subject, and
bringing it out in such a way that everybody could
see and understand it. In this case the point
was the distinction between a temporary embargo and
one of unlimited duration. Mr. Webster contended
that the latter was unconstitutional. The great
mischief of the embargo was in Jefferson’s concealed
intention that it should be unlimited in point of
time, a piece of recklessness and deceit never fully
appreciated until it had all passed into history.
This Mr. Webster detected and brought out as the most
illegal and dangerous feature of the measure, while
he also discussed the general policy in its fullest
extent. In 1809 he spoke before the Phi Beta
Kappa Society, upon “The State of our Literature,”
an address without especial interest except as showing
a very marked improvement in style, due, no doubt,
to the influence of Mr. Mason.
During the next three years Mr. Webster
was completely absorbed in the practice of his profession,
and not until the declaration of war with England
had stirred and agitated the whole country did he again
come before the public. The occasion of his reappearance
was the Fourth of July celebration in 1812, when he
addressed the Washington Benevolent Society at Portsmouth.
The speech was a strong, calm statement of the grounds
of opposition to the war. He showed that “maritime
defence, commercial regulations, and national revenue”
were the very corner-stones of the Constitution, and
that these great interests had been crippled and abused
by the departure from Washington’s policy.
He developed, with great force, the principal and
the most unanswerable argument of his party, that the
navy had been neglected and decried because it was
a Federalist scheme, when a navy was what we wanted
above all things, and especially when we were drifting
into a maritime conflict. He argued strongly in
favor of a naval war, and measures of naval defence,
instead of wasting our resources by an invasion of
Canada. So far he went strictly with his party,
merely invigorating and enforcing their well-known
principles. But when he came to defining the
proper limits of opposition to the war he modified
very essentially the course prescribed by advanced
Federalist opinions. The majority of that party
in New England were prepared to go to the very edge
of the narrow legal line which divides constitutional
opposition from treasonable resistance. They
were violent, bitter, and uncompromising in their
language and purposes. From this Mr. Webster was
saved by his breadth of view, his clear perceptions,
and his intense national feeling. He says on
this point:
“With respect to the war in which
we are now involved, the course which our principles
require us to pursue cannot be doubtful. It is
now the law of the land, and as such we are bound
to regard it. Resistance and insurrection
form no part of our creed. The disciples
of Washington are neither tyrants in power nor rebels
out. If we are taxed to carry on this war
we shall disregard certain distinguished examples
and shall pay. If our personal services
are required we shall yield them to the precise extent
of our constitutional liability. At the
same time the world may be assured that we know
our rights and shall exercise them. We shall
express our opinions on this, as on every measure
of the government, I trust without
passion, I am certain without fear. By the
exercise of our constitutional right of suffrage, by
the peaceable remedy of election, we shall seek
to restore wisdom to our councils, and peace
to our country.”
This was a sensible and patriotic
opposition. It represented the views of the moderate
Federalists, and traced the lines which Mr. Webster
consistently followed during the first years of his
public life. The address concluded by pointing
out the French trickery which had provoked the war,
and by denouncing an alliance with French despotism
and ambition.
This oration was printed, and ran
at once through two editions. It led to the selection
of Mr. Webster as a delegate to an assembly of the
people of the county of Rockingham, a sort of mass
convention, held in August, 1812. There he was
placed on the committee to prepare the address, and
was chosen to write their report, which was adopted
and published. This important document, widely
known at the time as the “Rockingham Memorial,”
was a careful argument against the war, and a vigorous
and able presentation of the Federalist views.
It was addressed to the President, whom it treated
with respectful severity. With much skill it turned
Mr. Madison’s own arguments against himself,
and appealed to public opinion by its clear and convincing
reasoning. In one point the memorial differed
curiously from the oration of a month before.
The latter pointed to the suffrage as the mode of
redress; the former distinctly hinted at and almost
threatened secession even while it deplored a dissolution
of the Union as a possible result of the administration’s
policy. In the one case Mr. Webster was expressing
his own views, in the other he was giving utterance
to the opinions of the members of his party among
whom he stood. This little incident shows the
susceptibility to outside influences which formed such
an odd trait in the character of a man so imperious
by nature. When acting alone, he spoke his own
opinions. When in a situation where public opinion
was concentrated against him, he submitted to modifications
of his views with a curious and indolent indifference.
The immediate result to Mr. Webster
of the ability and tact which he displayed at the
Rockingham Convention was his election to the thirteenth
Congress, where he took his seat in May, 1813.
There were then many able men in the House. Mr.
Clay was Speaker, and on the floor were John C. Calhoun,
Langdon Cheves and William Lowndes of South Carolina,
Forsyth and Troup of Georgia, Ingersoll of Pennsylvania,
Grundy of Tennessee, and McLean of Ohio, all conspicuous
in the young nationalist war party. Macon and
Eppes were representatives of the old Jeffersonian
Republicans, while the Federalists were strong in
the possession of such leaders as Pickering of Massachusetts,
Pitkin of Connecticut, Grosvenor and Benson of New
York, Hanson of Maryland, and William Gaston of North
Carolina. It was a House in which any one might
have been glad to win distinction. That Mr. Webster
was considered, at the outset, to be a man of great
promise is shown by the fact that he was placed on
the Committee on Foreign Relations, of which Mr. Calhoun
was the head, and which, in the war time, was the most
important committee of the House.
Mr. Webster’s first act was
a characteristic one. Early in June he introduced
a set of resolutions calling upon the President for
information as to the time and mode in which the repeal
of the French decrees had been communicated to our
government. His unerring sagacity in singling
out the weak point in his enemy’s armor and
in choosing his own keenest weapon, was never better
illustrated than on this occasion. We know now
that in the negotiations for the repeal of the decrees,
the French government tricked us into war with England
by most profligate lying. It was apparent then
that there was something wrong, and that either our
government had been deceived, or had withheld the
publication of the repealing decree until war was
declared, so that England might not have a pretext
for rescinding the obnoxious orders. Either horn
of the dilemma, therefore, was disagreeable to the
administration, and a disclosure could hardly fail
to benefit the Federalists. Mr. Webster supported
his resolutions with a terse and simple speech of
explanation, so far as we can judge from the meagre
abstract which has come down to us. The resolutions,
however, were a firebrand, and lighted up an angry
and protracted debate, but the ruling party, as Mr.
Webster probably foresaw, did not dare to vote them
down, and they passed by large majorities. Mr.
Webster spoke but once, and then very briefly, during
the progress of the debate, and soon after returned
to New Hampshire. With the exception of these
resolutions, he took no active part whatever in the
business of the House beyond voting steadily with his
party, a fact of which we may be sure because he was
always on the same side as that staunch old partisan,
Timothy Pickering.
After a summer passed in the performance
of his professional duties, Mr. Webster returned to
Washington. He was late in his coming, Congress
having been in session nearly three weeks when he
arrived to find that he had been dropped from the
Committee on Foreign Relations. The dominant party
probably discovered that he was a young man of rather
too much promise and too formidable an opponent for
such an important post. His resolutions had been
answered at the previous session, after his departure,
and the report, which consisted of a lame explanation
of the main point, and an elaborate defence of the
war, had been quietly laid aside. Mr. Webster
desired debate on this subject, and succeeded in carrying
a reference of the report to a committee of the whole,
but his opponents prevented its ever coming to discussion.
In the long session which ensued, Mr. Webster again
took comparatively little part in general business,
but he spoke oftener than before. He seems to
have been reserving his strength and making sure of
his ground. He defended the Federalists as the
true friends of the navy, and he resisted with great
power the extravagant attempt to extend martial law
to all citizens suspected of treason. On January
14, 1814, he made a long and well reported speech
against a bill to encourage enlistments. This
is the first example of the eloquence which Mr. Webster
afterwards carried to such high perfection. Some
of his subsequent speeches far surpass this one, but
they differ from it in degree, not in kind. He
was now master of the style at which he aimed.
The vehicle was perfected and his natural talent gave
that vehicle abundance of thought to be conveyed.
The whole speech is simple in form, direct and forcible.
It has the elasticity and vigor of great strength,
and glows with eloquence in some passages. Here,
too, we see for the first time that power of deliberate
and measured sarcasm which was destined to become
in his hands such a formidable weapon. The florid
rhetoric of the early days is utterly gone, and the
thought comes to us in those short and pregnant sentences
and in the choice and effective words which were afterwards
so typical of the speaker. The speech itself was
a party speech and a presentation of party arguments.
It offered nothing new, but the familiar principles
had hardly ever been stated in such a striking and
impressive fashion. Mr. Webster attacked the war
policy and the conduct of the war, and advocated defensive
warfare, a navy, and the abandonment of the restrictive
laws that were ruining our commerce, which had been
the main cause of the adoption of the Constitution.
The conclusion of this speech is not far from the
level of Mr. Webster’s best work. It is
too long for quotation, but a few sentences will show
its quality:
“Give up your futile projects
of invasion. Extinguish the fires that blaze
on your inland frontier. Establish perfect safety
and defence there by adequate force. Let
every man that sleeps on your soil sleep in security.
Stop the blood that flows from the veins of unarmed
yeomanry and women and children. Give to the living
time to bury and lament their dead in the quietness
of private sorrow. Having performed this
work of beneficence and mercy on your inland border,
turn, and look with the eye of justice and compassion
on your vast population along the coast.
Unclench the iron grasp of your embargo.
Take measures for that end before another sun sets....
Let it no longer be said that not one ship of force,
built by your hands, yet floats upon the ocean....
If then the war must be continued, go to the
ocean. If you are seriously contending for maritime
rights, go to the theatre where alone those rights
can be defended. Thither every indication
of your fortune points you. There the united
wishes and exertions of the nation will go with you.
Even our party divisions, acrimonious as they are,
cease at the water’s edge.”
Events soon forced the policy urged
by Mr. Webster upon the administration, whose friends
carried first a modification of the embargo, and before
the close of the session introduced a bill for its
total repeal. The difficult task of advocating
this measure devolved upon Mr. Calhoun, who sustained
his cause more ingeniously than ingenuously. He
frankly admitted that restriction was a failure as
a war measure, but he defended the repeal on the ground
that the condition of affairs in Europe had changed
since the restrictive policy was adopted. It
had indeed changed since the embargo of 1807, but
not since the imposition of that of 1813, which was
the one under discussion.
Mr. Calhoun laid himself open to most
unmerciful retorts, which was his misfortune, not
his fault, for the embargo had been utterly and hopelessly
wrong from the beginning. Mr. Webster, however,
took full advantage of the opportunity thus presented.
His opening congratulations are in his best vein of
stately sarcasm, and are admirably put. He followed
this up by a new argument of great force, showing
the colonial spirit of the restrictive policy.
He also dwelt with fresh vigor on the identification
with France necessitated by the restrictive laws,
a reproach which stung Mr. Calhoun and his followers
more than anything else. He then took up the embargo
policy and tore it to pieces, no very difficult
undertaking, but well performed. The shifty and
shifting policy of the government was especially distasteful
to Mr. Webster, with his lofty conception of consistent
and steady statesmanship, a point which is well brought
out in the following passage:
“In a commercial country, nothing
can be more objectionable than frequent and violent
changes. The concerns of private business do
not endure such rude shocks but with extreme inconvenience
and great loss. It would seem, however,
that there is a class of politicians to whose
taste all change is suited, to whom whatever is
unnatural seems wise, and all that is violent appears
great.... The Embargo Act, the Non-Importation
Act, and all the crowd of additions and supplements,
together with all their garniture of messages,
reports, and resolutions, are tumbling undistinguished
into one common grave. But yesterday this
policy had a thousand friends and supporters;
to-day it is fallen and prostrate, and few ‘so
poor as to do it reverence.’ Sir, a government
which cannot administer the affairs of a nation
without so frequent and such violent alterations
in the ordinary occupations and pursuits of private
life, has, in my opinion, little claim to the regard
of the community.”
All this is very characteristic of
Mr. Webster’s temperament in dealing with public
affairs, and is a very good example of his power of
dignified reproach and condemnation.
Mr. Calhoun had said at the close
of his speech, that the repeal of the restrictive
measures should not be allowed to affect the double
duties which protected manufactures. Mr. Webster
discussed this point at length, defining his own position,
which was that of the New England Federalists, who
believed in free trade as an abstract principle, and
considered protection only as an expedient of which
they wanted as little as possible. Mr. Webster
set forth these views in his usual effective and lucid
manner, but they can be considered more fitly at the
period when he dealt with the tariff as a leading
issue of the day and of his own public life.
Mr. Webster took no further action
of importance at this session, not even participating
in the great debate on the loan bill; but, by the manner
in which these two speeches were referred to and quoted
in Congress for many days after they were delivered,
we can perceive the depth of their first impression.
I have dwelt upon them at length because they are not
in the collected edition of his speeches, where they
well deserve a place, and, still more, because they
are the first examples of his parliamentary eloquence
which show his characteristic qualities and the action
of his mind. Mr. Webster was a man of slow growth,
not reaching his highest point until he was nearly
fifty years of age, but these two speeches mark an
advanced stage in his progress. The only fresh
point that he made was when he declared that the embargo
was colonial in spirit; and this thought proceeded
from the vital principle of Mr. Webster’s public
life, his intense love for nationality and union,
which grew with his growth and strengthened with his
strength. In other respects, these speeches presented
simply the arguments and opinions of his party.
They fell upon the ear of Congress and the country
with a new and ringing sound because they were stated
so finely and with such simplicity. Certainly
one of them, and probably both, were delivered without
any immediate preparation, but they really had the
preparation of years, and were the utterance of thoughts
which had been garnered up by long meditation.
He wisely confined himself at this time to a subject
which had been long before his mind, and upon which
he had gathered all the essential points by observation
and by a study of the multitude of speeches and essays
with which the country had been deluged. These
early speeches, like some of the best of his prime,
although nominally unprepared, were poured forth from
the overflowing resources which had been the fruit
of months of reflection, and which had been stored
up by an unyielding memory. They had really been
in preparation ever since the embargo pamphlet of
1808, and that was one reason for their ripeness and
terseness, for their easy flow and condensed force.
I have examined with care the debates in that Congress.
There were many able and experienced speakers on the
floor. Mr. Clay, it is true, took no part, and
early in the session went to Europe. But Mr. Calhoun
led in debate, and there were many others second only
to him. Among all the speeches, however, Mr.
Webster’s stand out in sharp relief. His
utterances were as clear and direct as those of Mr.
Calhoun, but they had none of the South Carolinian’s
dryness. We can best judge of their merit and
their effect by comparing them with those of his associates.
They were not only forcible, but they were vivid also
and full of life, and his words when he was roused
fell like the blows of a hammer on an anvil.
They lacked the polish and richness of his later efforts,
but the force and power of statement and the purity
of diction were all there, and men began to realize
that one destined to great achievements had entered
the field of American politics.
This was very apparent when Mr. Webster
came back to Washington for the extra session called
in September, 1814. Although he had made previously
but two set speeches, and had taken comparatively little
part in every-day debate, he was now acknowledged,
after his few months of service, to be one of the
foremost men in the House, and the strongest leader
in his party. He differed somewhat at this time
from the prevailing sentiment of the Federalists in
New England, for the guiding principle of his life,
his love of nationality, overrode all other influences.
He discountenanced the measures which led to the Hartford
Convention, and he helped to keep New Hampshire out
of that movement; but it is an entire mistake to represent
him as an independent Federalist at this period.
The days of Mr. Webster’s independent politics
came later, when the Federalists had ceased to exist
as a party and when no new ties had been formed.
In the winter of 1814 and 1815, although, like many
of the moderate Federalists, he disapproved of the
separatist movement in New England, on all other party
questions he acted consistently with the straitest
of the sect. Sensibly enough, he did not consider
the convention at Hartford, although he had nothing
to do with it, either treasonable or seditious; and
yet, much as he disliked its supposed purposes, he
did not hesitate, in a speech on the Enlistment Bill,
to use them as a threat to deter the administration
from war measures. This was a favorite Federalist
practice, gloomily to point out at this time the gathering
clouds of domestic strife, in order to turn the administration
back from war, that poor frightened administration
of Mr. Madison, which had for months been clutching
frantically at every straw which seemed to promise
a chance of peace.
But although Mr. Webster went as steadily
and even more strongly with his party in this session,
he did more and better service than ever before, partly,
perhaps, because on the questions which arose, his
party was, in the main, entirely right. The strength
of his party feeling is shown by his attitude in regard
to the war taxes, upon which he made a quiet but effective
speech. He took the ground that, as a member of
the minority, he could not prevent the taxes nor stop
hostilities, but he could protest against the war,
its conduct, and its authors, by voting against the
taxes. There is a nice question of political
ethics here as to how far an opposition ought to go
in time of national war and distress, but it is certainly
impossible to give a more extreme expression to parliamentary
opposition than to refuse the supplies at a most critical
moment in a severe conflict. To this last extreme
of party opposition to the administration, Mr. Webster
went. It was as far as he could go and remain
loyal to the Union. But there he stopped absolutely.
With the next step, which went outside the Union,
and which his friends at home were considering, he
would have nothing to do, and he would not countenance
any separatist schemes. In the national Congress,
however, he was prepared to advance as far as the
boldest and bitterest in opposition, and he either
voted against the war taxes or abstained from voting
on them, in company with the strictest partisans of
the Pickering type.
There is no need to suppose from this
that Mr. Webster had lost in the least the liberality
or breadth of view which always characterized him.
He was no narrower then than when he entered Congress,
or than when he left it. He went with his party
because he believed it to be right, as at
that moment it undoubtedly was. The party, however,
was still extreme and bitter, as it had been for ten
years, but Mr. Webster was neither. He went all
lengths with his friends in Congress, but he did not
share their intensity of feeling or their fierce hostility
to individuals. The Federalists, for instance,
as a rule had ceased to call upon Mr. Madison, but
in such intolerance Mr. Webster declined to indulge.
He was always on good terms with the President and
with all the hostile leaders. His opposition
was extreme in principle, but not in manner; it was
vigorous and uncompromising, but also stately and
dignified. It was part of his large and indolent
nature to accept much and question little; to take
the ideas most easy and natural to him, those of his
friends and associates, and of his native New England,
without needless inquiry and investigation. It
was part of the same nature, also, to hold liberal
views after he had fairly taken sides, and never,
by confounding individuals with principles and purposes,
to import into politics the fiery, biting element of
personal hatred and malice.
His position in the House once assured,
we find Mr. Webster taking a much more active part
in the daily debates than before. On these occasions
we hear of his “deliberate, conversational”
manner, another of the lessons learned from Mr. Mason
when that gentleman, standing so close to the jury-box
that he could have “laid his finger on the foreman’s
nose,” as Mr. Webster said, chatted easily with
each juryman, and won a succession of verdicts.
But besides the daily debate, Mr. Webster spoke at
length on several important occasions. This was
the case with the Enlistment Bill, which involved
a forced draft, including minors, and was deemed unconstitutional
by the Federalists. Mr. Webster had “a hand,”
as he puts it, a strong one, we may be
sure, in killing “Mr. Monroe’s
conscription.”
The most important measure, however,
with which Mr. Webster was called to deal, and to
which he gave his best efforts, was the attempt to
establish a national bank. There were three parties
in the House on this question. The first represented
the “old Republican” doctrines, and was
opposed to any bank. The second represented the
theories of Hamilton and the Federalists, and favored
a bank with a reasonable capital, specie-paying, and
free to decide about making loans to the government.
The third body was composed of members of the national
war-party, who were eager for a bank merely to help
the government out of its appalling difficulties.
They, therefore, favored an institution of large capital,
non-specie-paying, and obliged to make heavy loans
to the government, which involved, of course, an irredeemable
paper currency. In a word, there was the party
of no bank, the party of a specie bank, and the party
of a huge paper-money bank. The second of these
parties, with which of course Mr. Webster acted, held
the key of the situation. No bank could be established
unless it was based on their principles. The
first bill, proposing a paper-money bank, originated
in the House, and was killed there by a strong majority,
Mr. Webster making a long speech against it which
has not been preserved. The next bill came from
the Senate, and was also for a paper-money bank.
Against this scheme Mr. Webster made a second elaborate
speech, which is reprinted in his works. His
genius for arranging and stating facts held its full
strength in questions of finance, and he now established
his reputation as a master in that difficult department
of statesmanship. His recent studies of economical
questions in late English works and in English history
gave freshness to what he said, and in clearness of
argument, in range of view, and wisdom of judgment,
he showed himself a worthy disciple of the school
of Hamilton. His argument proceeded on the truest
economical and commercial principles, and was, indeed,
unanswerable. He then took his stand as the foe
of irredeemable paper, whether in war or peace, and
of wild, unrestrained banking, a position from which
he never wavered, and in support of which he rendered
to the country some of his best service as a public
man. The bill was defeated by the casting vote
of the Speaker. When the result was announced,
Mr. Calhoun was utterly overwhelmed. He cared
little for the bank but deeply for the government,
which, as it was not known that peace had been made,
seemed to be on the verge of ruin. He came over
to Mr. Webster, and, bursting into tears, begged the
latter to aid in establishing a proper bank, a request
which was freely granted.
The vote was then reconsidered, the
bill recommitted and brought back, with a reduced
capital, and freed from the government power to force
loans and suspend specie payments. This measure
was passed by a large majority, composed of the Federalists
and the friends of the government, but it was the
plan of the former which had prevailed. The President
vetoed the bill for a variety of reasons, duly stated,
but really, as Mr. Webster said, because a sound bank
of this sort was not in favor with the administration.
Another paper-money scheme was introduced, and the
conflict began again, but was abruptly terminated
by the news of peace, and on March 4 the thirteenth
Congress came to an end.
The fourteenth Congress, to which
he had been reelected, Mr. Webster said many years
afterward, was the most remarkable for talents of any
he had ever seen. To the leaders of marked ability
in the previous Congress, most of whom had been reelected,
several others were added. Mr. Clay returned
from Europe to take again an active part. Mr.
Pinkney, the most eminent practising lawyer in the
country, recently Attorney-General and Minister to
England, whom John Randolph, with characteristic insolence,
“believed to be from Maryland,” was there
until his appointment to the Russian mission.
Last, but not least, there was John Randolph himself,
wildly eccentric and venomously eloquent, sometimes
witty, always odd and amusing, talking incessantly
on everything, so that the reporters gave him up in
despair, and with whom Mr. Webster came to a definite
understanding before the close of the session.
Mr. Webster did not take his seat
until February, being detained at the North by the
illness of his daughter Grace. When he arrived
he found Congress at work upon a bank bill possessing
the same objectionable features of paper money and
large capital as the former schemes which he had helped
to overthrow. He began his attack upon this dangerous
plan by considering the evil condition of the currency.
He showed that the currency of the United States was
sound because it was gold and silver, in his opinion
the only constitutional medium, but that the country
was flooded by the irredeemable paper of the state
banks. Congress could not regulate the state
banks, but they could force them to specie payments
by refusing to receive any notes which were not paid
in specie by the bank which issued them. Passing
to the proposed national bank, he reiterated the able
arguments which he had made in the previous Congress
against the large capital, the power to suspend specie
payments, and the stock feature of the bank, which
he thought would lead to speculation and control by
the state banks. This last point is the first
instance of that financial foresight for which Mr.
Webster was so remarkable, and which shows so plainly
the soundness of his knowledge in regard to economical
matters. A violent speculation in bank stock
did ensue, and the first years of the new institution
were troubled, disorderly, and anything but creditable.
The opposition of Mr. Webster and those who thought
with him, resulted in the reduction of the capital
and the removal of the power to suspend specie payments.
But although shorn of its most obnoxious features,
Mr. Webster voted against the bill on its final passage
on account of the participation permitted to the government
in its management. He was quite right, but, after
the bank was well established, he supported it as Lord
Thurlow promised to do in regard to the dissenter’s
religion. Indeed, Mr. Webster ultimately so far
lost his original dislike to this bank that he became
one of its warmest adherents. The plan was defective,
but the scheme, on the whole, worked better than had
been expected.
Immediately after the passage of the
bank bill, Mr. Calhoun introduced a bill requiring
the revenue to be collected in lawful money of the
United States. A sharp debate ensued, and the
bill was lost. Mr. Webster at once offered resolutions
requiring all government dues to be paid in coin, in
Treasury notes, or in notes of the Bank of the United
States. He supported these resolutions, thus
daringly put forward just after the principle they
involved had been voted down, in a speech of singular
power, clear, convincing, and full of information
and illustration. He elaborated the ideas contained
in his previous remarks on the currency, displaying
with great force the evils of irredeemable paper,
and the absolute necessity of a sound currency based
on specie payments. He won a signal victory by
the passage of his resolutions, which brought about
resumption, and, after the bank was firmly established,
gave us a sound currency and a safe medium of exchange.
This was one of the most conspicuous services ever
rendered by Mr. Webster to the business interests
and good government of the country, and he deserves
the full credit, for he triumphed where Mr. Calhoun
had just been defeated.
Mr. Webster took more or less part
in all the questions which afterwards arose in the
House, especially on the tariff, but his great efforts
were those devoted to the bank and the currency.
The only other incident of the session was an invitation
to fight a duel sent him by John Randolph. This
was the only challenge ever received by Mr. Webster.
He never could have seemed a very happy subject for
such missives, and, moreover, he never indulged in
language calculated to provoke them. Randolph,
however, would have challenged anybody or anything,
from Henry Clay to a field-mouse, if the fancy happened
to strike him. Mr. Webster’s reply is a
model of dignity and veiled contempt. He refused
to admit Randolph’s right to an explanation,
alluded to that gentleman’s lack of courtesy
in the House, denied his right to call him out, and
wound up by saying that he did not feel bound to risk
his life at any one’s bidding, but should “always
be prepared to repel, in a suitable manner, the aggression
of any man who may presume on this refusal.”
One cannot help smiling over this last clause, with
its suggestion of personal violence, as the two men
rise before the fancy, the big, swarthy
black-haired son of the northern hills, with his robust
common sense, and the sallow, lean, sickly Virginia
planter, not many degrees removed mentally from the
patients in Bedlam.
In the affairs of the next session
of the fourteenth Congress Mr. Webster took scarcely
any part. He voted for Mr. Calhoun’s internal
improvement bill, although without entering the debate,
and he also voted to pass the bill over Mr. Madison’s
veto. This was sound Hamiltonian Federalism, and
in entire consonance with the national sentiments
of Mr. Webster. On the constitutional point,
which he is said to have examined with some care, he
decided in accordance with the opinions of his party,
and with the doctrine of liberal construction, to
which he always adhered.
On March 4, 1817, the fourteenth Congress
expired, and with it the term of Mr. Webster’s
service. Five years were to intervene before he
again appeared in the arena of national politics.
This retirement from active public life was due to
professional reasons. In nine years Mr. Webster
had attained to the very summit of his profession
in New Hampshire. He was earning two thousand
dollars a year, and in that hardy and poor community
he could not hope to earn more. To a man with
such great and productive talents, and with a growing
family, a larger field had become an absolute necessity.
In June, 1816, therefore, Mr. Webster removed from
Portsmouth to Boston. That he gained by the change
is apparent from the fact that the first year after
his removal his professional income did not fall short
of twenty thousand dollars. The first suggestion
of the possibilities of wealth offered to his abilities
in a suitable field came from his going to Washington.
There, in the winter of 1813 and 1814, he was admitted
to the bar of the Supreme Court of the United States,
before which he tried two or three cases, and this
opened the vista of a professional career, which he
felt would give him verge and room enough, as well
as fit remuneration. From this beginning the
Supreme Court practice, which soon led to the removal
to Boston, rapidly increased, until, in the last session
of his term, it occupied most of his time. This
withdrawal from the duties of Congress, however, was
not due to a sacrifice of his time to his professional
engagements, but to the depression caused by his first
great grief, which must have rendered the noise and
dust of debate most distasteful to him. Mr. and
Mrs. Webster had arrived in Washington for this last
session, in December, 1816, and were recalled to Boston
by the illness of their little daughter Grace, who
was their oldest child, singularly bright and precocious,
with much of her father’s look and talent, and
of her mother’s sensibility. She was a
favorite with her father, and tenderly beloved by
him. After her parents’ return she sank
rapidly, the victim of consumption. When the
last hour was at hand, the child, rousing from sleep,
asked for her father. He came, raised her upon
his arm, and, as he did so, she smiled upon him and
died. It is a little incident in the life of a
great man, but a child’s instinct does not err
at such a moment, and her dying smile sheds a flood
of soft light upon the deep and warm affections of
Mr. Webster’s solemn and reserved nature.
It was the first great grief. Mr. Webster wept
convulsively as he stood beside the dead, and those
who saw that stately creature so wrung by anguish
of the heart never forgot the sight.
Thus the period which began at Portsmouth
in 1807 closed in Boston, in 1817, with the death
of the eldest born. In that decade Mr. Webster
had advanced with great strides from the position
of a raw and youthful lawyer in a back country town
of New Hampshire. He had reached the highest
professional eminence in his own State, and had removed
to a wider sphere, where he at once took rank with
the best lawyers. He was a leading practitioner
in the highest national court. During his two
terms in Congress he had become a leader of his party,
and had won a solid national reputation. In those
years he had rendered conspicuous service to the business
interests of the nation, and had established himself
as one of the ablest statesmen of the country in matters
of finance. He had defined his position on the
tariff as a free-trader in theory and a very moderate
protectionist when protection was unavoidable, a true
representative of the doctrine of the New England
Federalists. He had taken up his ground as the
champion of specie payments and of the liberal interpretation
of the Constitution, which authorized internal improvements.
While he had not shrunk from extreme opposition to
the administration during the war, he had kept himself
entirely clear from the separatist sentiment of New
England in the year 1814. He left Congress with
a realizing sense of his own growing powers, and,
rejoicing in his strength, he turned to his profession
and to his new duties in his new home.