Letters

Webster's Last Days

To THE EDITOR:

One hundred years ago, on October 24, 1852, death came to Daniel Webster, Dartmouth 1801, and brought to a close the long and distinguished career of one of the nation's immortals and one of the great sons of the College. Of timely interest is the following letter, written at the time of Webster's death by a family relative, that gives an intimate glimpse of the last days in the life of Webster and shows the courage and cheerfulness with which the great statesman and orator faced death. The letter was written to Samuel T. Tisdale by Mrs. Ellen M. Joy, a sister-inlaw of Webster's son Fletcher.

The part of the letter relating to Webster follows:

DEAR MR. TISDALE:

You must have thought me very negligent not to have answered your most kind and acceptable letter dated October 29, but, not being directed to Mr. Joy's care, it did not reach me till yesterday. I hasten to acknowledge its receipt. This has been a most exciting day for us all, and the pageant has been very imposing and beautiful the day almost as fine as that sad one at Marshfield when we looked our last on that noble form which was soon to be hidden from our eyes. We were at "Carswell," Fletcher's place, with the children, but finding Mr. Webster so very ill, we decided on leaving. For a number of days I did not see him, but he sent for me Friday, a week before his death, and when he appeared in his library he was so changed that I do not think I could be more shocked now, if I were to see him. He was so emaciated and his lips so fevered that at first he could hardly articulate, but the indomitable will triumphed over the weakness of the body and he conversed most delightfully with my sisters and myself, attended to public business, dictated letters and franked them, and was at times the same playful Mr. Webster. I happened to have on a red morning dress and he gave me the sobriquet of "red bird." He seemed to love all and everything about him, and looking out from his library window on the pond where his wild geese were sailing about most majestically, referring to the night before which had been very stormy, he gave one of those inimitable smiles and said: "I think our home squadron has weathered the gale." He also spoke of the burial place of Peregrine White, from whom my father's family are descended, and said it had been ascertained that he was buried very near his own tomb and that the Marshfield people were getting up a subscription to erect a monument, and, looking at us three sisters, said: "I shall give fifty dollars and shall call on all his descendants to do the same." Before his death, in the midst of all his sufferings, he made arrangements to that effect and gave eighty dollars. He wrote, or rather dictated, a letter to someone who had given him some cattle, which was in his playful manner, and he seemed to enjoy the idea that he really was in need of them. He told Mr. Peter Harvey just three weeks before his death, when he seemed better and felt encouraged about himself, that the sheep of Marshfield had been carrying their heads very high, thinking that no one could eat mutton, but, showing his teeth, he said: "I'll soon teach them better." The Thursday previous to his death he had a remarkable dream which impressed him very much. He was one who rarely related such things, but, when Mr. Paige entered his room in the morning he said in answer to his inquiries: "William, I'm either better or a dead man." He then said he dreamed he was dead and in his coffin and on arousing somewhat those who were watching around him rubbed him for a long time before he was restored to consciousness, if I may so express it, and he requested Mrs. Baker, his housekeeper, to hold his hand for he felt he might "drop off." In the morning his catarrh had returned. In the midst of all his sufferings he was never forgetful of those around him but made every arrangement for their comfort and wished to know how they were cared for. One more little history of the great departed, dear Mr. Tisdale. The day before I saw him he was very feeble, so much so that he was assisted from his chair to the sofa, and yet, when my sister and the rest of the family were at dinner, to their utter astonishment, he walked into the room with his usual firm, majestic step, and, addressing them all. said: "I have come to drink your health," and, calling for a glass of catnip tea, he welcomed them all they standing around the table. He then returned to his library with the same firm step, apparently as strong as ever. My sister Caroline was very much impressed with it and the power he exercised over himself, for she had been with him all the morning and knew how feeble he was. The last time Mr. Joy saw him, after dining with him, he sent for him to come into the library and took leave of him very impressively, making Mr. Joy promise to call the next day on his way to Boston and take "a stirrup cup." He said: "Now promise me, John, that you will not pass my door without stopping," but, alas, the next day Mr. Webster was ill in bed and Mr. Joy never saw him again. To those of us who were blessed by familiar intercourse with him, he was the most fascinating, lovable person, and although you bowed in reverence to his intellect, yet you felt he had other gifts superior to that. He was so tender and considerate and appreciated everything that was done for him - and yet, dear Mr. Tisdale, to me the brightest point in his character was his entire freedom from bitterness. Surely of him it can be said: "When he was reviled, he reviled not again."

(Signed) ELLEN M. JOY

Mrs. Joy's original letter, containing a notation made by Tisdale in 1863, came into my possession forty years ago and was at that time presented to the Dartmouth College Archives. Since-then and until now-it has remained there unpublished. On this 100th anniversary of Webster's death it seems appropriate to present to the readers of the MAGAZINE this intimate account of Webster's last days.

Boston, Mass.

A Choice Spot

To THE EDITOR:

I thought you might be interested in the enclosed picture tor the MAGAZINE. The Dartmouth pennant for some mysterious reason was given the prime location on State Street in front of Marshall Field & Company and under the famous clock.

I am a director of the State Street Council; and when I saw where the pennant was located, asked them to take a picture, which I thought you might be able to use.

Chicago, Ill.

Singers Take Note

To THE EDITOR:

The Alumni Glee Club of New York, composed of graduates of various Eastern universities and colleges began its fall season at the Dartmouth Club, 37 East 39th St., New York City, on Monday, September 8, and will continue its rehearsals each Monday night at the Club beginning at 7:30 P.M. Dartmouth alumni with Glee Club experience are cordially invited to join.

THIS PLEASED CHICAGO ALUMNI