“THE LITTLE BLACK STABLE-BOY.”
I am tempted to detail another case in which the young lawyer was able
to do an important service to an acquaintance who had known him in his
boyhood.
In Grafton County lived a teamster named John Greenough, who was in
the habit of making periodical trips to and from Boston with a load of
goods. One day, when a mile or two distant from the house of Daniel’s
father, his wagon was mired, owing to the size of his load and the
state of the roads. He found that he could not continue his journey
without help, and sent to the house of Judge Webster to borrow a span
of horses.
“Dan,” said the Judge, “take the horses and help Mr. Greenough out of
his trouble.”
The boy was roughly dressed like an ordinary farm-boy of that time,
his head being surmounted by a ragged straw hat. He at once obeyed
his father and gave the teamster the assistance which he so urgently
required.
The teamster thanked him for his assistance and drove on, giving little
thought to the boy, or dreaming that the time would come when Dan would
help him out of a worse scrape.
Years passed and the farm-boy became a lawyer, but Greenough had lost
track of him, and supposed he was still at work on his father’s farm.
He was a poor man, owning a farm and little else. But a question arose
as to his title to the farm. Suit was brought against him, and his
whole property was at stake. He secured legal assistance, his lawyer
being Moses P. Payson, of Bath. Mr. Payson thought he ought to have
help, as the case was an important one, and suggested it to his client.
The latter agreed, and Mr. Payson made his selection.
Soon after, in an interview with Mr. Payson, Greenough inquired, “What
lawyer have you hired to help you?”
“Mr. Webster,” was the reply.
“Webster, Webster!” repeated Greenough; “I don’t know any lawyer of
that name. Is he from Boston?”
“Oh, no; he came from your neighborhood,” was the reply. “It is Daniel
Webster, the son of old Ebenezer Webster, of Salisbury.”
“What!” exclaimed the teamster in dismay; “that little black stable-boy
that once brought me some horses! Then I think we might as well give
up the case. Can’t you get somebody else?”
“No; the trial cannot be postponed. We must take our chances and make
the best of it.”
The teamster went home greatly depressed. He remembered the rough
looking farm-boy in his rustic garb and old straw hat, and it seemed
ridiculous that a good lawyer could have been made out of such
unpromising materials. He was not the first man who had been misled by
appearances. He was yet to learn that a poor boy may become an able
lawyer. Of course the case must go on, but he looked forward to the
result with little hope. He would lose his little farm he felt sure,
and in his declining years be cast adrift penniless and destitute.
When the day of trial came the teamster was in attendance, but he
looked sad and depressed. Mr. Payson made the opening speech, and the
trial proceeded. Mr. Webster was to make the closing argument.
When he rose to speak Greenough looked at him with some curiosity.
Yes, it was black Dan, a young man now, but as swarthy, though better
dressed than the boy who had brought him the span of horses to help his
wagon out of the mire.
“What can he do?” thought the teamster, not without contempt.
Daniel began to speak, and soon warmed to his work. He seemed
thoroughly master of the case, and as he proceeded the teamster was
surprised, and finally absorbed in his words. He drew nearer and drank
in every word that fell from the lips of the “little black stable-boy,”
as he had recently termed him.
The jury were no less interested, and when the plea closed it was clear
how they would render their verdict.
Mr. Payson approached his client, and said with a smile, “Well, Mr.
Greenough, what do you think of him now?”
“Think!” exclaimed the teamster. “Why, I think he is an angel sent from
heaven to save me from ruin, and my wife and children from misery.”
The case was won, and Greenough returned home happy that his little
farm would not be taken from him.
Many lawyers aspire to the judicial office as the crowning professional
dignity which they may wear with pride. But some of the greatest
lawyers are not fitted for that office. They are born advocates, and
the more brilliant they are the less, perhaps, do they possess that
fair and even judgment which is requisite in a judge. Daniel Webster
understood that his talents were not of a judicial character. At a
later day (in 1840) he wrote to a friend as follows: “For my own part,
I never could be a judge. There never was a time when I would have
taken the office of chief justice of the United States or any other
judicial station. I believe the truth may be that I have mixed so much
study of politics with my study of law that, though I have some respect
for myself as an advocate, and some estimate of my knowledge of general
principles, yet I am not confident of possessing all the accuracy and
precision of knowledge which the bench requires.”
For nearly nine years Daniel Webster practiced law in Portsmouth. He
could not have selected a more prominent place in New Hampshire; but
the time came when he felt that for many reasons he should seek a
larger field. One reason, which deservedly carried weight, was, that
in a small town his income must necessarily be small. During these
years of busy activity he never received in fees more than two thousand
dollars a year. Fees were small then compared with what they are now,
when lawyers by no means distinguished often charge more for their
services in a single case than young Webster’s entire yearly income at
that time.
When the time came for removal the young lawyer hesitated between
Boston, Albany and New York, but finally decided in favor of the
first place. Of his removal we shall have occasion to speak further
presently. Before doing so it is well to say that these nine years,
though they brought Mr. Webster but little money, did a great deal
for him in other ways. He was not employed in any great cases, or
any memorable trials, though he and Jeremiah Mason were employed
in the most important cases which came before the New Hampshire
courts. Generally they were opposed to each other, and in his older
professional compeer Daniel found a foeman worthy of his steel. He
always had to do his best when Mason was engaged on the other side.
That he fully appreciated Mr. Mason’s ability is evident from his
tribute to him paid in a conversation with another eminent rival, Rufus
Choate.
“I have known Jeremiah Mason,” he said, “longer than I have known
any other eminent man. He was the first man of distinction in the
law whom I knew, and when I first became acquainted with him he was
in full practice. I knew that generation of lawyers as a younger man
knows those who are his superiors in age—by tradition, reputation and
hearsay, and by occasionally being present and hearing their efforts.
In this way I knew Luther Martin, Edmund Randolph, Goodloe Hart, and
all those great lights of the law; and by the way, I think, on the
whole, that was an abler bar than the present one—of course with some
brilliant exceptions. Of the present bar of the United States I think
I am able to form a pretty fair opinion, having an intimate personal
knowledge of them in the local and federal courts; and this I can say,
that I regard Jeremiah Mason as eminently superior to any other lawyer
whom I ever met. I should rather with my own experience (and I have
had some pretty tough experience with him) meet them all combined in
a case, than to meet him alone and single-handed. He was the keenest
lawyer I ever met or read about. If a man had Jeremiah Mason and he
did not get his case, no human ingenuity or learning could get it. He
drew from a very deep fountain. Yes, I should think he did,” added Mr.
Webster, smiling, “from his great height.”
The young reader will remember that Mr. Mason was six feet seven inches
in height.
It is always of great service when a young man is compelled at all
times to do his best. Daniel could not oppose such a lawyer as he
describes Mr. Mason without calling forth all his resources. It
happened, therefore, that the nine years he spent in Portsmouth were by
no means wasted, but contributed to develop and enlarge his powers,
and provide him with resources which were to be of service to him in
the broader and more conspicuous field in which he was soon to exercise
his powers.
Furthermore, during these nine years he first entered the arena where
he was to gather unfading laurels, and establish his reputation not
only as a great lawyer, but one of the foremost statesmen of any age.
I allude to his election to Congress, in which he took his seat for
the first time on the 24th of May, 1813, as a Representative from New
Hampshire.