CHAPTER XX. “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.