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Updated: May 9, 2025
The New York Colony. In every period where art is alive there must be violent faction, and wherever there is violent faction there is sure to be a tertium quid that endeavors to bridge the quarrel. The Daniel Websters call forth the Robert Haynes, and the two together evoke the compromisers, the Henry Clays.
Websters or Sewards depended on others for machine work and money on Peter Harveys and Thurlow Weeds, who spent their lives in it, took most of the abuse, and asked no reward. Almost without knowing it, the subordinates ousted their employers and created a machine which no one but themselves could run. In 1850 things had not quite reached that point.
"I 'magine that 'twas gettin' as mad as you are now that kep' the Websters from ever buildin' up that wall," she called after her niece, as Lucy with crimson cheeks fled up the stairs, the long white envelope in her hand. "I want you should go to the village to-day," announced Ellen, making her appearance in Lucy's room on a hot August morning a few weeks later.
"Old" evidently means sometimes "having independent authority," and does not necessarily signify either lack of freshness or being stricken in years. Thus Philip Festus Bailey's dictum, that "we live in deeds, not years," is borne out by common parlance, and future Worcesters and Websters must make a note of it.
Some of them would speak in good-humored banter, some with premeditated malice; but their jibes would sting. "So you're tacklin' that wall in spite of all you said, are you, Martin?" "Ellen Webster's got you where she wanted you at last, ain't she, Martin?" "This would be a proud day for the Websters, Martin!"
It was all very simple, now. With the abandon of a schoolboy he rushed downstairs, pausing only an instant to put his head in at the kitchen door and shout to Jane: "I'm goin' over to the Websters'. I may be late. Don't sit up for me." Then he was gone. Alone beneath the arching sky, his happiness mounted to the stars. How delicious was the freshness of the cool night air!
"Because they'd go any length to do us harm every one of 'em." Again the grip on Lucy's arm tightened painfully. Dragging the girl to the window the old woman cried: "Do you see that pile of stones over there? That's the wall the Howes built years an' years ago built because of the grudge they bore the Websters, likely. Did you ever look on such an eyesore?"
In the delicate oval face there was no trace of Thomas's heavily modeled features; nor was Lucy indebted to the Websters for her aureole of golden hair, the purity of her blond skin, or her grave brown eyes. Thomas had been a massively formed, kindly, plain-featured man; but his daughter was beautiful.
We thought of our comrades whom we had left in far seas; we longed and feared to ask a thousand questions about those at home, of whom we had thought so tenderly and so often. Already boats were putting out to greet us; and now, in the foremost of them, one of the younger Websters stood up. "Mr. Hamlin, ahoy!" he called, seeing Roger on the quarter-deck. "Where is Captain Whidden?"
It surely could do Mr. Martin Howe no harm to call a good morning to her over the wall, as his sisters did, even if he did deplore the existence of the Websters. Then the tenor of Lucy's arguments shifted. Probably Martin neither admired nor liked her. Doubtless, along with her aunt and all that pertained to the hated blood, he despised her and simply watched her in disgust.
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