PERSONAL MEMORIALS OF DANIEL WEBSTER.

The ancestors of DANIEL WEBSTER came originally from Scotland, and his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, were named Ebenezer, and were descendants of Thomas Webster, who was one of the very earliest settlers of New Hampshire. His father was a person of large and stalwart form, of swarthy complexion, and remarkable features. He was born and spent his youth on a farm; served as a ranger in the famous company of Major Robert Rogers, and as a captain, under General John Stark, during the revolutionary war; was for several years a member of the legislature of New Hampshire, and died while performing with honor the duties of judge of the court of common pleas. His mother was Abigail Eastman, a lady of Welsh extraction, and of far more than ordinary intellect; she was the second wife of her husband, and the mother of five children-two boys, Daniel and Ezekiel, and three daughters.

Ebenezer Webster, the father of Daniel, was not only a man of superior intellect, but was distinguished for his strong and indomitable will, a characteristic which his distinguished son has rightfully inherited. He was a federalist in politics; and it is related of him, that he was once taken suddenly ill while passing through a village which was noted for its democracy, and that supposing he was about to die, he beseeched his physician to remove him as soon as possible out of the place, giving, as a reason for his great anxiety, that "he was born a federalist, had lived a federalist, and could not die in any but a federalist town."

DANIEL WEBSTER was born on the 18th day of January, 1782, in the town of Salisbury, Merrimac county, then Hillsborough, New Hampshire. The site of the house is two and a half miles from the beautiful Merrimac river, and in the immediate vicinity of that where his father built the first log cabin ever seen in this section of country, and at a time when, between his residence and the borders of Canada, there was not a single human habitation, excepting the Indian's wigwam. The house in question is not now standing; but the engraving which ornaments the title page of this volume,* is from a drawing correctly representing it as it appeared only a few years ago. It was a good specimen of the more elegant

*The plate alluded to does not appear in this pamphlet edition.

farm houses of the day, one story high, heavily timbered, clapboarded, with rather a pointed roof, one chimney in the centre, one front door, with a window on either side, three windows at each end, four rooms on the ground floor, and an addition in the rear for a kitchen. It fronted on the south, a picturesque well-curb and sweep stood near the eastern extremity, and over the whole a mammoth elm tree extended its huge arms, as if to protect the spot from sacrilege. In the rear, on a hill side, was a spacious barn, and a partially wooded pasture; the prospect immediately in front was enlivened by a rude bridge, spanning a lovely little stream, and bounded by a lofty hill, upon which is still standing the church where Mr. WEBSTER was baptized; while in a southwesterly direction was presented a full view of the noble mountain, called Kearsage, which holds the same rank among its brother hills, that Mr. WEBSTER is acknowledged to hold among men. The house was the centre of a tract of 160 acres of land, which still belongs to the Webster family. Though the birthplace itself has disappeared, the waters of the well are still as pure and sparkling, and the leaves of the elm as luxuriant, as when they quenched the thirst and delighted the eyes of the infant statesman nearly seventy years ago, and in their perennial nature are emblematic of the great name with which they are associated.

An appropriate appendage to the view of Mr. Webster's birthplace is the following extract from one of his speeches, delivered at Saratoga, in 1840: "It did not happen to me to be born in a log cabin; but my elder brothers and sisters were born in a log cabin raised amid the snow drifts of New Hampshire, at a period so early as that, when the smoke first rose from its rude chimney, and curled over the frozen hills, there was no similar evidence of a white man's habitation between it and the settlements on the rivers of Canada. Its remains still exist. I make to it an annual visit. I carry my children to it, to teach them the hardships endured by the generations which have gone before them. I love to dwell on the tender recollections, the kindred ties, the early affections, and the touching narratives and incidents which mingle with all I know of this primitive family abode. I weep to think that none of those who inhabited it are now living; and if ever I am ashamed of it, or if I ever fail in affectionate veneration for him who reared it, and defended it against savage violence and destruction, cherished all the domestic virtues beneath its roof, and, through the fire and blood of a seven years' revolutionary war, shrunk from no danger, no toil, no sacrifice, to serve his country, and to raise his children to a better condition than his own, may my name, and the name of my posterity, be blotted forever from the memory of mankind!"

Mr. WEBSTER was taught the letters of the alphabet by his mother,

and, because of his feebleness when a child, was ever treated by her with partial kindness. From her lips, also, were first received into his mind the vital truths of the Bible, and the first copy of the sacred volume which he ever owned was presented to him by his mother. She is remembered, and always spoken of, in New Hampshire, as a woman of superior intellect, of the warmest affections, and remarkably beautiful. She lived for her husband and children, never thinking of herself, and was venerated by all who knew her. And it is said that, when her son DANIEL had attained his tenth year, she prophecied that he would become eminent; and when she died that son was, indeed, a member of Congress.

The first school-house into which Mr. WEBSTER ever entered was built of logs, and not a vestige of it now remains, though the spot is marked. by a still flourishing butternut tree. It was located about half a mile from his father's house, and, as he only attended during the winter, it was pleasant to the writer to stand upon this now classic ground, and imagine the boy DANIEL tramping through the snow on his way to school, carrying in one hand a little tin pail with his dinner, and in the other his spelling book. The man who had the honor of first teaching, in a public manner, this favorite of fortune, was William Hoyt.

The spot where Mr. WEBSTER spent the greater part of his childhood and youth is known as the "Elms Farm," and is only about three miles from his birthplace. It contains one thousand acres, lies directly in a bend of the Merrimac, and is one of the finest farms in New Hampshire. It has been in the possession of his brother Ezekiel and himself ever since the death of their father in 1806, and though intrinsically of great value, yet to the admirer of the great and good in human intellect, it must ever be a kind of Mecca, and possess a value not to be estimated by money. A portion of it is interval land, while the remainder comprehends a number of picturesque hills, from some of which may be seen the White Mountains, including the grand summit of Mt. Washington, and between Keursage and the Ragged Mountains, the picturesque peak of Ascutny, in Vermont.

It is pre-eminently a grazing farm, and one of the meadow fields alone contains nearly one hundred acres, and as it is encircled and occasionally dotted with graceful elms, it presents a truly charming appearance; especially so during the haying season, when a score or two of men are wielding the scythe in a kind of cavalcade; or when, as in autumn, it is the pasturing ground of herds composed of the Devon, Ayrshire, and Hereford breeds of cattle. Near the centre of the above field are the almost obliterated re

mains of a fort which links the farm with its early history, when this particular region was the frontier of the British colonies, and when the Indians, as the allies of the French, made it their chief business to destroy the pioneer inhabitants. The fort stood on a ridge of land, south of the burying ground, and the plough which passes over it at the present day frequently brings to light warlike memorials of the olden times. But a Sabbath peace now broods over the domain of the Webster family; the wilderness has indeed blossomed as the rose; the war-whoop has given place to the lowing of cattle, the bleating of sheep, and the tinkling of bells; and yet it is pleasant to know that the changes are not universal; for the same morning and evening atmospheres-the same healthful breezes-and the same loud singing birds, with the whip-poor-will, too, are here to make glad and to soothe the heart, in the evening as once in the morning of his days, of that great and good man who was born among these hills, and whose name has baptized them with a classic fame. One of the last Indian murders committed in New Hampshire, that of Mrs. Call, was on this estate. Here yet remain the cellar of her habitation, and the visible plot of her garden, where her husband raised his Indian corn one hundred years ago, and down to the period of Mr. WEBSTER's recollection parsnips in this garden had perpetuated themselves. The tradition is, that Philip Call and his son were at work in a meadow. In the house, Mrs. Call the elder, and her daughter-in-law, who at the time had an infant in her arms. Seeing the Indians coming, the young woman crept in behind the chimney, hushed her child, and was not discovered by them. Mrs. Call was killed, and the Indians departed. Mr. WEBSTER's father bought the farm of Philip Call, and John Call, the preserved child, Mr. WEBSTER knew in early life. The dwellings on Elms Farm consist of the house with which are associated all his earlier and more precious recollections, also the one occupied by himself during his annual sojourn in the Granite State, and the one occupied by the tenant of the farm; while the barns and other outhouses number about a dozen, all painted white, and kept in the nicest possible order. A railroad connecting the Upper Connecticut river with Boston, crosses the farm in rather a picturesque manner, so that its proprietor may dine among the mountains and partake of his supper some three hours later in the capital of New England. It was in his house on this farm, with the tombs of his family before him at the end of a beautiful field, that the famous letter to Hülsemann was written.

Mr. WEBSTER's reputation as a practical agriculturist is co-extensive with his native State, and indeed with New England; and that it is justly so, the following figures, obtained from the tenant of Elms Farm, alone will prove. The yield of the farm during the present year (1851) has been estimated thus: Of English hay, one hundred and forty tons; of po