The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1885-11-18
The Home of Daniel Webster.

! Thirty-six miles from Boston, on
a branch of the Old Colony railroad
is the quaint little station of Web
ster Place. The railroad winds and
twists through granite cuts, past
shaggy forests and over wide ex-
panses of meadow and salt marsh,
and deep in the woods, alone and
still, the little station stands.
About a mile and three quarters
from the station is the home of Dan
iel Webster. The country road
which leads to it is typical Yankee
highway, with ils abrupt ascents
and descents to its loneness, and its
long lines of rough stone fences.
The road is dotted on one side with
trees and bushes, and there in tempt
ing profusion grow wild cherries,
wild plums and grapes, while here
and there a maple tree flashes out a
blood red banner of foliage. Along
the stone wall the little red squirrels
frisk and chatter, and, mingled with
the breath of new mown hay, there
comes across the incense OF the sea.
( Over the brow of distant hill
rises the monument of Miles Stand
ish, and grazing in the fields between
are groups of cattle, whose tinkling
bells sound clear and sweet upon
the country air. At the turn Of the
ROAD is the mansion once owned by
John Winthrop,the first Governor OF
Massachusetts. Here Fletcher Web.
ster's widow, after his death, lived
for some years, IL is an odd look
ing old house, large and roomy. Its
tall chimneys and yellow timbers,
together with the small windows
and generally old fashioned appear
ance, are very suggestive of The by
gone memory OF colonial days.
Your correspondent was shown
over the old Webster place by the
former foreman of the farm, Mr..
Wright, although in his I'D year, is
as young in strength and appear
ance as most men are at %. Alter
buying the homestead OF Thomas,
the royalist, Mr.. Webster began lit
tie by little to ada to it until at
length it had increased to splen-
did estate OF over 100 acres For
variety of scenery the location is I'M
surpassed.
When Mr.. Webster was alive he
had lookout built on one of the
bills, where his friends were fire.
quently invited to overlook Marsh
field. Seventeen hundred acres OF
hill and dale, forest. brook, and riy-
er, with long stretches of salt marsh
and white lines of dusty country
road, and far down and nut, the
reaches of the sandy shore, the beat
ing surf and distant sails, the cry of
the sea birds. and the voice OF the
ocean forever by his door. And
this above all things he loved. for
Webster's master passion was the
sea. As. Mr.. Wright said, ut was
meat and drink to him. He was
always up before any one else in the
morning, and most generally he
would start for the shore, and he
wouldn't wait for those who he ex-
pected to get down about 10 o'clock
or So" He fished a good deal, Mr.
Wright said, usually in the bay for
cod, haddock. and other sea fish,
but sometimes fished the brooks for
trout. He did not hunt as much as
usual in his later years, although at
an earlier period his gun had been
bis frequent companion
As for his home life, said Mr.
Wright, that was devoted in large
measure to the practical working of
his estate. He made many different
experiments with seaweed and yari-
Gus fertilizers, and took a thorough
enjoyment in the minutie of farm
life. His oxen came in for a large
share of attention If there was one
thing on which he prided himself, it
was the oxen. Sometimes he would
come across yoke of steers in his
drives around Marsbfield that would
strike his fancy, and he would come
back to the farm and say, Il think
we need another yoke of oxen. Por-
ter, what do you think we could get
those oxen for ?" and if thev were
to be obtained at a reasonable price,
very likely he would buy them. In
this way he had gotten together
some seven or eight yoke.
About a week before he died he
had all these oxen yoked together
and brought up before his window
in lire. In the shade of the elms
group of contented oxen chewing
their cuds. and in the sick room a
great soul ebbing away! He seem
ed happy 10 get back from political
turmoil to the peace and quiet of
Marshfield. He called it taking his
rest" No matter how busy he was
it was a relief after the din of debate,
and was "res," to him.-Cjcago,
Inter Ocean.