The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1852-11-10
EVer truly, your friend,
DANIEL WEBSTER
Further Particulars of Mr.. Webster.
The Funeral.

At first the coffin, closed up with
glass over the face, had been placed in
the library, and, therefore, few, compar-
ativelv, cou'd once more sc, the features
they all had known SO well for nothing
was more remarkable in that vast gath
ering than the gravity and decorum
which prevailed. All stepped as though
stepping on holy ground - all drew
their breath softly, as though fearing to
disturb the repose of the solemn sleep
cr. Hence few, very few, comparatively,
entered the house consequently, as was
said, Mrs Webster, with true instinct,
directed that the coffin should be carried
out and placed in the midst Of the
friends ,neig ghbors, and fellow-countrymen,
who had gathered from many faroff places
to pay the last tribute this grave. This
was done, the lid was removed-and
there he lay-attired, not with the uti
slightly shroud, but, as so often all had
seen him in his blue coat and white waist-
coat, and white cravat-the black hair.
thinned, indeed, by years and toll and
sorrow, still with raven hue predominant
ing over the silvery threads which time
was spreading there--that noble forehead,
the palace of thought white and clear
the eyes, luminous, indeed no longer, and
to flash no more on earth forever.yet on
ly seeming to sleep, that marvellous
mouth, mute, yet with the upper lip
slightly rctracted, and just showing the
tecth-that lip of which the writings
could move to tears or to terror-all
speechless, yet seeming as if about to
speak there he lay, aid it tras hard to
believe .r.
"Ere yet Decay efiacng fingers
Had swept the lines where genius lingers,"
that he was gone forever. Thousands af
ter thousands passed in silence and in
sadness by that coffin, looking their last
upon that noble form and face, until the
minister of God-the young clergyman
of the village church standing in the
porch of the house, raised his tremulous
voice and uttered his fervcnt prayer
unheard indeed by the listening
/ thousands on the lawn, but yet joined
instinctively from the throbbing hearts
of all. This ended, plain wagon body,
covered with black cloth, and drawn by
two black horses, each led by a laboring
man was drawn up in front of the house,
and the coffin was placed upon it by the
hands of six neighbors-farmers aged
men, with uncovered heads, silvered by
age with forms erect aud vigorous of
grave aspect and slow but firm tread
The mouruful procession then set forth
from the abode of the living to the mar
row house of the dead. There was no
pomp, no plumes, 10 storied urn" no
scarfs--nothing but the solemn Dead,
and the sorrowing thousands who mourn.
cd him in their hearts. The son of
Mr. Webster his only surviving child,
accompanied by his three sons, followed
the coffin then other male relatives and
members of the family and the colored
servants. men and women, six in number
all dressed in mourning
After them followed the great of the
earth, who had come there 20 render in
person, and as representing others
States--cities - professions = the last
homage to his surprising patriotism
As the long line wound round the hillock
and through the valley, and again up the
acclivity where the tomb was placed, tho
wholc air e solemn stiffness hcld,n and
except in tho measured tread of the pro-
cession scarce sound was audible. On
reaching. the appointed place short
prayer was said, and the immediate rel.
atives retired, leaving the mighty dead
in the care Of the assembled people, and
of the personal friends Immediately
charged with the details Of the funeral
And now it was found that new accss
sion of some two thousand persons, per
hops, arrived by steamboat, were on The
ground, aud anxious once again 10 looh
upon the face Of the man Again the
coffin lid was removed, and before
the portals of that tomb which open
ed to receive its prey, the new com
ers passed In procession, two and two
dividing at the coffin and proceeding OF
each side of it, till all had look cd upol
him. And honorable was il to our com
mon nature--this strange and unwonte,
specsacle--for il presented no single in
stance Of levity, or even Of mere unseen