The Devil And Daniel Webster Poem by Richard Burke

Jabez Stone was as unlucky as a man could be;
His corn grew no higher than his boney knee;
His potatoes no bigger than a single snap pea;
And his horse had foundered and barely could see.

"Dear God in Heaven, take pity on me,
I'd sell my soul for good luck, should the devil agree! "

But Jabez was quick to regret that cry,
More so next day, when a stranger came by;
His name was Scratch, his eyes black as coal,
He offered Jabez luck in exchange for his soul.

Jabez cursed that his cry had ever been heard,
But New Hampshiremen never welsh on their word;
So, a "sales contract" was signed despite all his fears;
That guaranteed good luck for the next seven years.

Good luck kicked-in ‘fore his signature was dry;
His corn soon stood over eight feet high;
His potatoes weighed-in at a pound or more;
And the town's leading citizens knocked at his door.

But years, like minutes, can too quickly fly,
And seven years later, Scratch again came by;
To remind Jabez of that contract's toll -
Seven years of good luck in exchange for his soul!

As they started to talk, Jabez heard a moan:
"For God's sake help me, p-l-e-a-s-e Neighbor Stone! "
It sounded like Miser Stevens, from a farm nearby,
But came from a moth, frantically trying to fly.

"Ah yes, " said Scratch, "I collected him today;
It's a small soul at best, I'd have to say;
Not like yours, which I'd guess is middling in size,
Nor that of Daniel Webster, the ultimate prize! "

Jabez trembled and stuttered, but had to concede,
Seven years for his soul was what they'd agreed;
But by pleading and begging and shedding of tears,
He got Scratch to grant him another three years.

A thousand more days passed living in dread,
A thousand more nights spent tossing in bed;
"Oh, mercy, mercy, mercy on me,
I've nowhere to hide, nowhere to flee! "

Considering his options, as poor as they were,
One desperate hope emerged from the blur:
Just the right lawyer might turn things around;
Get the deal voided on some technical ground.

That perfect lawyer-Daniel Webster, Esquire;
A man the whole country had come to admire;
Even Scratch had praised him when they met that day,
And he lived in Marshfield, just up the way.

Jabez rushed to see him at very first light,
And spilled out the tale of his ghoulish plight:
"Scratch is coming to get me on this very night;
I'm desperate for help, if you're up to the fight."

"Well, seeing as how you're a New Hampshireman,
You can be sure that I'll do all that I can; "
Then they dashed to Jab's farm at a feverish pace;
And sat by his hearth, preparing their case.

Midnight brought a knock on Jabez's door;
The dreaded visitor they were waiting for;
Scratch came with a box that had holes in its lid,
Letting flickers of light reach the souls that it hid.

Daniel opened debate in a confident tone:
"I'm attorney of record for Jabez Stone."
And with that a spirited argument began:
Is "good luck" a fair price for the soul of a man?

Daniel claimed ten years made the "property" worth more;
But Scratch wouldn't budge from the letter of the law;
Daniel tried every lawyer's "whereas" and "wherein; "
But Scratch stuck to the contract and wouldn't give in.

Seeing Scratch was unlikely to grow more compliant,
Daniel demanded a fair trial for his client;
"You can pick the judge and the jury, " he said,
"And I'll abide - - be they the quick or the dead."

If Jabez had been sick with terror before,
It only got worse with what he now saw;
In walked a judge and a jury from hell;
A cast of villains he knew all too well.

The Reverend John Smith, with his strangler's hands,
Simon Girty, "the White Savage, " raised by Indian bands,
Blackbeard the Pirate who plundered at sea,
Hawthorne, of Salem, who burned witches with glee,
And nine more scoundrels, stone deaf to his plea!

Daniel Webster had faced tough juries before,
But the bias before him was hard to ignore;
He rethought his strategy and started again,
Focused on things cherished by all free men.


The freshness of morning when you were young;
The taste of good whiskey tickling your tongue;
The dreams you had in days gone by;
Sweet memories of the first girl to catch your eye.

He recalled early days in this country of ours;
The good things it did, but also its scars;
And reminded the jurors, even they'd played a part,
In forming this great nation, right from its start.

Then he spoke compassionately of Jabez Stone,
Plagued by bad luck, now being asked to atone,
For one small mistake with an eternity of pain;
Subject forever to Satan's merciless reign.

The light now started to gray in the room,
Still unclear if Jabez had escaped his doom;
But Daniel had finished and rested his case,
After carefully studying each juror's face.

The hate seemed gone from the judge and the men,
Each realized, though dead, he was an American again;
When sequestered from Scratch and left on their own,
They all found for the defendant, Jabez Stone!

When asked how the jury had reached its finding,
The foreman said: "God's, not man's, laws are binding;
While not strictly in accordance with all the evidence,
Even the damned can salute Webster's eloquence! "


Based on "The Devil and Daniel Webster, "
A short story by Stephen Vincent Benet