So here full many a sturdy swain
      His precious baggage bore;
    Old misers e’en forgot their gain,
    And bed-rid cripples, free from pain,
      Now took the road before.

    The widow, with her dripping mite
      Upon her saddle horn,
    Rode up in haste to see the sight
    And aid a charity so right,
      A pauper so forlorn.

    The circling throng an opening drew
      Upon the verdant-grass
    To let the vast procession through
    To spread their rich repast in view,
      And Elder J. L. pass.

    Then Elder J. with lifted eyes
      In musing posture stood,
    Invoked a blessing from the skies
    To save from vermin, mites and flies,
      And keep the bounty good.

    Now mellow strokes the yielding pile
      From polished steel receives,
    And shining nymphs stand still a while,
    Or mix the mass with salt and oil,
      With sage and savory leaves.

    Then sextonlike, the patriot troop,
      With naked arms and crown,
    Embraced, with hardy hands, the scoop,
    And filled the vast expanded hoop,
      While beetles smacked it down.

    Next girding screws the ponderous beam,
      With heft immense, drew down;
    The gushing whey from every seam
    Flowed through the streets a rapid stream,
      And shad came up to town.

This spirited achievement of early democracy is commemorated today by a sign set up at the ancient and honorable town of Cheshire, located between Pittsfield and North Adams, on Route 8.

Jefferson’s speech of thanks to the democratic people of Cheshire rings out in history:  “I look upon this cheese as a token of fidelity from the very heart of the people of this land to the great cause of equal rights to all men.”

This popular presentation started a tradition.  When Van Buren succeeded to the Presidency, he received a similar mammoth cheese in token of the high esteem in which he was held.  A monstrous one, bigger than the Jeffersonian, was made by New Englanders to show their loyalty to President Jackson.  For weeks this stood in state in the hall of the White House.  At last the floor was a foot deep in the fragments remaining after the enthusiastic Democrats had eaten their fill.

[Illustration]

Chapter Three

Foreign Greats

        Ode to Cheese

    God of the country, bless today Thy cheese,
    For which we give Thee thanks on bended knees. 
    Let them be fat or light, with onions blent,
    Shallots, brine, pepper, honey; whether scent
    Of sheep or fields is in them, in the yard
    Let them, good Lord, at dawn be beaten hard. 
    And let their edges take on silvery shades
    Under the moist red hands of dairymaids;
    And, round and greenish, let them go to town