CHAPTER I.

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THE STRANGE STORY OF

HARPER'S FERRY

WITH LEGENDS OF

THE SURROUNDING COUNTRY

BY

JOSEPH BARRY

A resident of the place for half a century

PRINTING HISTORY

1st Printing By Thompson Brothers, Martinsburg, W. Va. 1903

2nd Printing Published By The Woman's Club of Harpers Ferry District

(Printed By The Shepherdstown Register, Inc.,

Shepherdstown, W. Va.) 1958

3rd Printing Published By The Woman's Club of Harpers Ferry District

(Printed By The Shepherdstown Register, Inc.,

Shepherdstown, W. Va.) 1959

4th Printing Published By The Woman's Club of Harpers Ferry District

(Printed By The Shepherdstown Register, Inc.,

Shepherdstown, W. Va.) 1964

5th Printing Published By The Woman's Club of Harpers Ferry District

(Printed By The Shepherdstown Register, Inc.,

Shepherdstown, W. Va.) 1967

6th Printing Published By The Woman's Club of Harpers Ferry District

(Printed By The Shepherdstown Register, Inc.,

Shepherdstown, W. Va.) 1969

Copyright, 1903, by

JOSEPH BARRY

PREFACE

The =real story= of Harper's Ferry is sad, and but little less wild and

romantic than the old-time legends that abound in the long settled

country around. The =facts= of the story we give with scrupulous

=exactness=. We, ourselves, have witnessed many of the most important

incidents narrated and, for what happened before our time, we have the

evidence of old settlers of the highest character and veracity.

The =legends= are =consistent=, even though they may have no other claim on

our consideration. They never have more than one version, although one

narrator may give more facts than another. The narratives never

=contradict= one another in any material way, which goes to show that

there was a time when everybody around believed the main facts.

THE AUTHOR.

[Illustration: JOHN BROWN'S FORT]

THE STRANGE STORY OF HARPER'S FERRY

CHAPTER I.

Harper's Ferry, including Bolivar, is a town which, before the war of

the late rebellion, contained a population of about three

thousand--nine-tenths of whom were whites. At the breaking out of

hostilities nearly all the inhabitants left their homes--some casting

their lots with "the confederacy" and about an equal number with the old

government. On the restoration of peace, comparatively few of them

returned. A great many colored people, however, who came at various

times with the armies from southern Virginia, have remained, so that the

proportion of the races at the place is materially changed. Also, many

soldiers of the national army who married Virginia ladies, during the

war, have settled there and, consequently, the town yet contains a

considerable number of inhabitants. The present population may be set

down at sixteen hundred whites and seven hundred blacks. The village is

situated in Jefferson county, now West Virginia, at the confluence of

the Potomac and the Shenandoah, at the base and in the very shadow of

the Blue Ridge Mountain. The distance from Washington City is fifty-five

miles, and from Baltimore eighty-one miles. The Baltimore and Ohio

railroad crosses the Potomac, at the place, on a magnificent bridge and

the Winchester and Potomac railroad, now absorbed by the Baltimore and

Ohio, has its northern terminus in the town. The Chesapeake and Ohio

canal, also, is in the immediate neighborhood. Within the last twelve

years, the place has become a favorite summer resort for the people of

Washington City and, from about the first of June to the last of

October, it is visited by tourists from every part of the northern

states and Europe.

The scenery around the place is celebrated for its grandeur, and Thomas

Jefferson has immortalized it in a fine description composed, it is

said, on a remarkable rock that commands a magnificent view of both

rivers and their junction. The rock itself is a wonderful freak of

Nature and it is regarded by the inhabitants with pride for its being a

great natural curiosity, and with veneration on account of the tradition

among them that, seated on it, Jefferson wrote his "Notes on Virginia."

It is, therefore, called "Jefferson's Rock." It is composed of several

huge masses of stone, piled on one another (although the whole is

regarded as one rock) the upper piece resting on a foundation, some

years ago, so narrow that it might easily be made to sway back and forth

by a child's hand. It is supported now, however, by pillars placed under

it, by order of one of the old armory superintendents, the original

foundation having dwindled to very unsafe dimensions by the action of

the weather, and still more, by the devastations of tourists and

curiosity-hunters. It is situated on the south side of "Cemetery Hill,"

behind the Catholic church, the lofty and glittering spire of which can

be seen at a great distance, as you approach from the East, adding much

beauty to the scene. The first church building there was erected in 1833

by Father Gildea. In 1896 the old edifice was torn down and a beautiful

one substituted, under the supervision of the Rev. Laurence Kelley.

There can be no doubt that =this= church, at least, is "built on a

rock," for there is not soil enough anywhere near it to plant a few

flowers around the House of Worship or the parsonage, and the worthy

Fathers have been obliged to haul a scanty supply from a considerable

distance to nourish two or three rosebushes. If "The Gates of Hell" try

to prevail against =this= institution they had better assault from

above. There will be no chance for attacking the foundation, for it is

solid rock, extending, no one knows how far, into the bowels of the

earth or through them, perhaps, all the way to the supposed location of

those terrible gates themselves.

On one side, the Maryland Heights, now so famous in history and, on the

other, the Loudoun Heights rise majestically, and imagination might

easily picture them as guardian giants defending the portals of the

noble Valley of Virginia. The Maryland Heights ascend in successive

plateaus to an altitude of thirteen hundred feet above the surrounding

country, and two thousand feet above the level of the sea. The Loudoun

Heights are not so lofty, but the ascent to them is difficult and,

consequently, as the foot of man seldom treads them, they present the

appearance of a more marked primeval wildness than the Maryland

mountain--a circumstance which compensates the tourist for their

inferiority in height. Between these two ramparts, in a gorge of savage

grandeur, the lordly Potomac takes to his embrace the beautiful

Shenandoah--"The Daughter of the Stars," as the Indians poetically

styled this lovely stream. It will be seen, hereafter, however, that

this usually serene and amiable damsel, like the daughters of men, is

subject to occasional "spells" of perversity, and that, when she =does=

take a tantrum she makes things lively around her. The former river

rises in western Virginia and, tumbling from the Alleghany Mountains in

an impetuous volume, traverses the northern extremity of the Valley of

Virginia, forming the boundary between "The Old Dominion" and the State

of Maryland. At Harper's Ferry it encounters the Blue Ridge, at right

angles, and receives the tributary Shenandoah which, rising in the upper

part of the great valley, flows in a northerly course, at the base of

the same mountain, and unites its strength with the Potomac to cut a

passage to the Ocean. This is the scenery of which Jefferson said that a

sight of it was worth a voyage across the Atlantic, and no person with

the least poetry in his soul will consider the praise extravagant. It

is, truly, a sublime spectacle and imagination, when allowed to do so,

lends its aid to the really wonderful sublimity of the scene. On the

rugged cliffs, on both the Maryland and Loudoun sides are supposed to be

seen, sculptured by the hand of Nature, various shapes and faces, the

appearance of which changes with the seasons and as they are concealed

more or less by the verdure of the trees. The giant, dwarf, centaur and

almost every other animal of Nature or of Fable are here portrayed to

the eye of Faith. On one rock, on the Maryland side, is a tolerably well

defined face with an expression of gravity which, with some other points

of resemblance, will remind one of George Washington, and, at almost any

hour of any day, may be seen strangers gazing intently on the mountain

in search of this likeness. Frequently, the Bald Eagle wheels in

majestic circles immediately above this rock and, then, indeed, the

illusion is too agreeable to be rejected by the most prosaic spectator.

George Washington, chiseled by the hand of Nature in the living rock, on

the summit of the Blue Ridge, with the Bird of Victory fanning his brow,

is too much poetry to be thrown away and common sense matter of fact is

out of the question. Of late years, a new feature has been added to the

scene which gives it quite an alpine appearance. Shortly after our civil

war, a man named Reid, who then lived at the foot of the Maryland

Heights, procured a few goats for the amusement of his children. The

goats multiplied rapidly and gradually spread up the side of the

mountain, where their opportunities for mischief in gnawing the bark of

trees and for avoiding the attacks of dogs were practically unlimited.

Their number is now Legion and they frequently gather in great crowds on

the overhanging rocks, always in charge of a dignified old buck, with a

patriarchal beard, and look down placidly and, may be, with contempt on

the busy hive of men below. Perhaps, the old buck often thinks, "'What

fools those two legged mortals be.' They call themselves Lords of the

creation and claim to own us, free sons of the mountain, and even our

neighbor, the eagle, but I would like to see one of them climb up the

face of this cliff and jump from crag to crag as the feeblest of =my=

clan can do. There they go crawling along, and when one of them wants to

travel a few miles he must purchase a railroad ticket for a point to

which my friend, the eagle, could arrive in a few dozen flaps of his

wings without the care and trouble of baggage or the fear of a run-in or

a collision." Such may be and such, it is to be feared, =ought= to be,

the reflections of that old buck.

Before the war, the Loudoun Heights used to be the favorite roosting

place of immense numbers of crows that, during the autumn and winter

foraged all over the Shenandoah Valley and all the rich grain lands east

of the Blue Ridge, as, also, Middletown Valley and the proverbially

fertile region between the Catoctin and the Patapsco. About an hour

before sunset, advance bodies of the vast army would appear from every

direction and, before daylight had died out, it is no exaggeration to

say, the whole sky was obliterated from view by myriads upon myriads of

the sable freebooters. For some reason best known to themselves, these

birds do not, at once, settle down to rest, on arriving at their

encampments, but wheel and circle 'round, as if none of them had a fixed

perch, and, from their deafening and angry cawing, it may be inferred

that, every night, they have to contend for a convenient sleeping place.

Sometimes, it would appear as if they were holding a court, for, bodies

of them are seen, frequently, to separate themselves from the main crowd

and, after conferring, as it were, beat and banish a member--presumably

a criminal--and then return to the rookery. During the war, they

disappeared and, no doubt, sought a more peaceful home. Besides, in

those sad years agriculture was neglected in this region and it may be

supposed that these sagacious birds sought for plenty as well as peace.

Even after the war, they no longer frequented the Loudoun Mountain, but

took to the Maryland Heights, where they may be seen every morning and

evening in the autumn and winter, starting out on their forays or

returning to their inaccessible resting place. Their numbers vary very

much, however, for, during several consecutive years, they will be

comparatively few, while for another period, they will appear in

countless thousands. They always disappear in the spring to fulfill the

great law of increase and multiplication, but, strange to say, a crow's

nest is a comparatively rare sight in the Virginia or Maryland woods,

and as far as the writer is advised, it is the same in the neighboring

states. The farmers are unrelenting enemies of the crows, and they never

neglect an opportunity for their destruction, and the sagacious birds,

knowing this by instinct and experience, no doubt, take special pains to

protect their young by rearing them in the least accessible places. Some

day, perhaps, we will know what useful part the crow takes in the

economy of Mother Nature. That he does something to compensate for the

corn he consumes, no reflecting man will be disposed to deny but what

that service is, certainly, no Virginia or Maryland grain producer

appears to have discovered, if we are to judge from the amount of

profanity heard from those hard-fisted tillers of the soil, when the

subject of crows is mentioned.

At a point unapproachable from any quarter by man and not far from

Washington's profile, is a crevice in the rock which has been ever the

home of a family of hawks that, like the robber knights of old, issue

from their impregnable fortress and levy tribute from all that are too

weak to resist them. They prey on the beautiful and useful little birds

that are indigenous, often extending their ravages to poultry yards. The

only way to destroy them is by shooting them with single bullets, while

they are on the wing, for they fly too high for shot. Their screams are

peculiarly harsh and cruel, and they often mar the peaceful serenity of

a summer evening. The people would compromise with them gladly, if they

would war on the English sparrows, but as far as the author knows they

never do =that=, recognizing, no doubt, and respecting a kindred

depravity. May the shadows of both nuisances grow rapidly less! But,

hold; not so fast. =They= too, perhaps, have their uses in the nice

balance of Nature, and their annihilation might cause an injurious

excess somewhere. How inconsistent, even a philosopher can sometimes

be!

Near the hawks' fortress there is a traditional beehive of immense

proportions. No one has seen it, for, like the hawks' nest, it is

inaccessible to man, but wild bees are seen, in the season of flowers,

flying to and from the place where the hive is supposed to be, and it is

believed that there is a very great stock of honey stored away,

somewhere near, by many generations of these industrious and sagacious

creatures. =They=, too, and the hawks and crows, as well as the goats

and eagles, may have their own opinion of the would-be Lords of

creation, and it may be well for us of the genus homo that we do not

know what that opinion is.

It is supposed by many that the whole Valley of Virginia was, at one

time, the bed of a vast sea and that, during some convulsion of Nature,

the imprisoned waters found an outlet at this place. There are many

circumstances to give an appearance of truth to this theory, especially

the fact that complete sea shells, or exact likenesses of them, are

found at various points in the Alleghany and Blue Ridge Mountains. Be

this as it may, the passage of the rivers through the mighty barrier is

a spectacle of awful sublimity and it well deserves the many panegyrics

it has received from orator and poet. A good deal depends on the point

from which, and the time when, the scene is viewed. The writer would

recommend the old cemetery and 10 o'clock, on a moonlight night,

especially if the moon should happen to be directly over the gorge where

the rivers meet. Then the savage wildness of the prospect is tempered

agreeably by the mild moonbeams, and the prevailing silence adds to the

impression of mingled sublimity, and weird loveliness. Let no one fear

the companionship of the still inhabitants of "the City of the Dead."

They are quiet, inoffensive neighbors and they, no doubt, many a time in

their lives, admired the same scene and, like the men of to-day,

wondered what this whole thing of creation and human existence means.

Perhaps they know it all now and, perhaps, they do =not=. Any way, their

tongues will not disturb one's meditations, and it may be that their

silence will furnish a wholesome homily on the nothingness of this life

and the vanity of all earthly pursuits.

Robert Harper, from whom the place gets its name, was a native of Oxford

in England. He was born about the year 1703 and, at the age of twenty

years, he emigrated to Philadelphia where he prosecuted the business of

architecture and millwrighting. He erected a church for the Protestant

Episcopalians in Frankfort, which edifice, however, through some defect

of title, was afterwards lost to the congregation for which it was

built. In 1747 he was engaged by some members of the Society of

"Friends" to erect a meeting-house for that denomination on the Opequon

river, near the site of the present city of Winchester, Virginia, and,

while on his way through the then unbroken wilderness to fulfill his

contract, he lodged, one night, at a lonely inn on the site of what is

now the city of Frederick, Maryland. While staying at this hostelry, he

met a German named Hoffman to whom, in the course of conversation, he

communicated the business that took him on his journey and, also, his

intention to proceed to his destination by way of Antietam, a name now

so famous in our national history, for the terrible battle fought there

during the late rebellion. Hoffman informed him that there was a shorter

route, by way of what he called "The Hole," and, as an additional

inducement, he promised him a sight of some wonderful scenery. Harper

agreed to go by the way of "The Hole" and, next night, he arrived at

that point and made the acquaintance of a man named Peter Stevens who

had squatted at the place which was included in the great Fairfax

estate. Harper was so much pleased with the scenery that he bought out

Stevens for the sum of fifty British guineas. As, however, he could only

buy Stevens' good will, the real ownership being vested in Lord Fairfax,

he, next year, paid a visit to Greenway, the residence of that nobleman,

and from him or his agent he obtained a patent for the lands formerly

occupied by Stevens on the precarious tenure of squatter sovereignty.

Stevens had held the place for thirteen years and the agents of Lord

Fairfax had experienced great trouble from him. They were, therefore,

very glad to be rid of him. Harper settled down there and established a

ferry, when the place lost the undignified name of "The Hole" and

acquired the more euphonious title of "Harper's Ferry" by which it has,

ever since, been known and by which, no doubt, it will be designated by

the remotest posterity. At that time, there was but one dwelling

there--the Stevens cabin--which was situated on what is now called

Shenandoah street, on the site of the house at present owned by Mr.

William Erwin and used as a drug store, liquor saloon, and a boarding

house. Harper lived in this house, many years, until about the year

1775, when he built one about half a mile farther up the Shenandoah,

where he died in 1782.

Mr. Harper was a man of medium height and considerable physical

strength. He was very energetic and well suited for pioneer life. He

left no children, and his property descended, by will, to Sarah, only

child of his brother Joseph, and to some nephews of his wife, named

Griffith. Sarah Harper was married to a gentleman of Philadelphia, named

Wager. He was a grandson of a German of the same name who, many years

before, had emigrated from the city of Worms in Hesse Darmstadt. Neither

Mr. Wager nor his wife ever saw their Harper's Ferry property, but many

of their descendants were born there and some of them are now living in

the neighboring cities, owning still a considerable estate at their old

home. Of this family was the late venerable Robert Harper Williamson, of

Washington city, the first person having the name of Harper who was born

in the town. The wife of Judge Swaim, a few years ago of the Supreme

Court of the United States, was one of the Wager family and their son

was General Wager Swaim, much distinguished in the Union army during the

late rebellion. Just as this goes to press we learn of his death.

Mr. Harper was interred on his own property and his moss-grown grave is

yet to be seen in the romantically situated cemetery that overlooks the

town--the same heretofore mentioned, as affording the best point from

which to view the scenery. By a provision of his will, several acres of

land were bequeathed to the place, as a burial ground--his own grave to

be in the centre--and now, a very large number sleep their dreamless

sleep in a beautiful though until lately a sadly neglected cemetery

around the founder of the village.

Few of the events that transpired in Mr. Harper's time are recorded.

Shortly after building the house on Shenandoah street he erected a large

stone dwelling on what is now called High street. This house yet stands

and occasionally it is occupied by some of his heirs. He experienced

great difficulty in finishing this building, owing to a scarcity of

mechanics, nearly all the able-bodied men of the place and neighborhood

having gone to join the army of Washington. It is recorded that an

intimate friend of Mr. Harper, named Hamilton, lost his life in this

house, by an accidental fall and this tradition, coupled with the age of

the house, gives a sombre character to the building. At the time of Mr.

Harper's death, therefore, there were but three houses at "The Ferry."

In 1748, there was a great flood in the Potomac, which, according to

some memoranda left by the founder of the place, drove him from the

house he then occupied--the Stevens cabin--and another, through a less

freshet, called "The Pumpkin Flood," is recorded as having occurred in

1753. The latter derived its name from the great numbers of pumpkins

which it washed away from the gardens of the Indians who, then, resided

in scattered lodges along the two rivers.

It is said that, at the commencement of the Revolution Mr. Harper's

sympathies were Tory, but that, soon, he espoused the cause of his

adopted country.

In 1794, during the administration of =General Washington=, Harper's

Ferry was chosen as the site of a national armory. It is said that the

great Father of his Country, himself, suggested it as the best location

then known for the purpose, having visited the place in person. This is

a tradition among the people and, if it is true, it is characteristic of

the most sagacious of men. The water-power at the place is immense, some

people supposing it to be the finest in the world. The Valley of

Virginia and that of Middletown, as well as the fertile plains of

Loudoun, gave promise of an abundance of the necessaries of life and,

perhaps, with the eye of prophecy, he saw railroads penetrating the

wilderness of the Allegheny regions and transporting its then hidden

mineral treasures to aid in the proposed manufacture of arms. In the

year above mentioned Congress applied to the General Assembly of

Virginia for permission to purchase the site and, by a vote of the

latter, leave was granted to buy a tract, not exceeding six hundred and

forty acres. Accordingly a body of land containing one hundred and

twenty-five acres was bought from the heirs of Mr. Harper. This tract is

contained in a triangle formed by the two rivers and a line running from

the Potomac to the Shenandoah along what is now called Union Street.

Another purchase was made of three hundred and ten acres from a Mr.

Rutherford. The latter tract is that on which the village of Bolivar now

stands. In some time after, Congress desiring to obtain the benefit of

the fine timber growing on the Loudoun Heights and not deeming it proper

to ask for any further concessions from the State of Virginia, leased in

perpetuity of Lord Fairfax, proprietor of "The Northern Neck," the right

to all the timber growing and to grow on a tract of thirteen hundred and

ninety-five acres on the Loudoun Heights immediately adjoining Harper's

Ferry.

Thus prepared, the government commenced the erection of shops, and in

1796, a Mr. Perkins, an English Moravian, was appointed to superintend

the works. He is represented as having been an amiable, unsophisticated

man, and tradition still tells of his simplicity of dress and

deportment. During his time, nothing of moment occurred at the place.

The town was yet in its infancy, with very few denizens, and, as the

period antedates the time of that venerable personage--the oldest

inhabitant--very little is known of what took place during Mr. Perkins'

administration. One or two centenarians, now a few years deceased,

however retained some faint remembrance of him and another Englishman,

named Cox, who had been for many years employed under him as a man of

all work, and who had followed him to Harper's Ferry from southern

Virginia, where Mr. Perkins had formerly resided. On one occasion, Cox

was required by his employer to attend to his--Perkins'--garden which

was overrun with weeds. For some reason, Cox did not relish the job, but

gave, however, a grumbling consent. Next morning, Cox commenced weeding

and, towards evening, he presented himself to Mr. Perkins with the

information that "he had made a clean sweep of it." The master was much

gratified and he told Mrs. Perkins to give Cox a dram of whiskey for

which the latter had a good relish. On visiting his garden next day, Mr.

Perkins discovered that, sure enough, Cox had made a clean sweep. The

weeds were all gone, but so were cabbages, turnips, carrots and

everything else of the vegetable kind. In great wrath, he sent for Cox,

charged him with every crime in the calendar and, with a kick on the

seat of honor, ejected him from the house, at the same time forbidding

him to show his face again around the works. Cox retreated hastily,

muttering "the devil a step will I go--the devil a step will I go." He

made his way to the shop where he was usually employed and, the

good-natured Perkins, soon forgetting his anger towards his old

follower, "the devil a step," sure enough, did Cox go from Harper's

Ferry. Sir Walter Scott relates that a Scotch nobleman once addressed

him in the following words an old and spoiled servant of his family who

had given him mortal offense. "John, you can no longer serve me.

Tomorrow morning either you or I must leave this house." "Aweel,

master," replied John, "if y're determined on ganging awa, we would like

to ken what direction ye'll be takin." No doubt, the same relations

existed between Mr. Perkins and Cox as between the nobleman and his

servant.

In 1799, during the administration of John Adams, in anticipation of a

war with France, the government organized a considerable army for

defense. A part of the forces was sent, under General Pinkney, into

camp at Harper's Ferry, and the ridge on which they were stationed has

ever since been called, "Camp Hill." It runs north and south between

Harper's Ferry and Bolivar. When the war cloud disappeared many of the

soldiers settled down at the place. A good many had died while in the

service, and their bodies are buried on the western slope of Camp Hill.

Although the mortal portion of them has mingled, long since, with Mother

earth, their spirits are said to hover still around the scene of their

earthly campaign and "oft in the stilly night" are the weird notes of

their fifes and the clatter of their drums heard by belated Harper's

Ferryans. The colored people who appear to be especially favored with

spirit manifestations, bear unanimous testimony to these facts, and it

is well known that some fine houses in the neighborhood were, for many

years, without tenants in consequence of their being supposed to be

places of rendezvous for these errant spirits. Once, over forty years

ago, the writer spent a winter's night in one of these houses, in

company with a corpse and the recollection of the feelings he

experienced, on that occasion, still causes the few hairs he has

retained to stick up "like the quills of the fretful porcupine." The

deceased was a stranger who had taken temporary possession of the house

and had died there very suddenly. He had been keeping bachelor's hall

there and, as he had no relatives at the place, a committee of

charitable citizens undertook the care of the remains, and the writer,

then a young man, affecting some courage, was detailed to watch the

corpse for one night. The house had an uncanny reputation, any way, and

a corpse was not exactly the companion a man would choose to stay with,

in a haunted house, but the writer was then courting and desired to rise

in the estimation of his girl, and this nerved him to the task. He held

to it, but, gentle reader, that was a very long night, indeed, and even

such fame as he acquired on that occasion and the approval of his loved

one would, never again, be inducement enough for him to undergo a

similar ordeal. But the spirits of the soldiers behaved with commendable

decency on the occasion and "not a drum was heard" or fife either. The

corpse, too, conducted itself discreetly but, dear reader, that night

was a very long one notwithstanding, and the daylight, when at last it

did appear, was enthusiastically welcomed by the quaking watcher.

At that time--1799--a bitter war existed between the Federalists and

Republicans, and a certain Captain Henry, in General Pinkney's army is

said to have taken his company, one day, to Jefferson's Rock and ordered

them to overthrow the favorite seat of Jefferson, his political enemy.

They succeeded in detaching a large boulder from the top which rolled

down hill to Shenandoah street, where it lay for many years, a monument

of stupid bigotry. This action was the occasion for a challenge to

mortal combat for Captain Henry from an equally foolish Republican in

the same corps, but the affair having come to the ears of General

Pinkney, he had both of the champions arrested before a duel could come

off, very much to the regret of all the sensible people in the town who

expected that, if the meeting was allowed to take place, there would be,

probably at least, one fool the less at Harper's Ferry.

Opposite to Jefferson's Rock and on the Loudoun side of the Shenandoah,

there grew, at that time a gigantic oak which had been, from time

immemorial, the eyrie of a family of eagles. Jefferson, while at the

place, had been much interested in these birds and after his election to

the presidency, he sent a request to Mr. Perkins that he would try to

secure for him some of their young. At Mr. Perkins' instance, therefore,

three young men named Perkins--the superintendent's son--Dowler and Hume

ascended the tree by means of strips nailed to it, and, after a terrible

fight with the parent birds, they succeeded in securing three eaglets.

They were forwarded to the president and, by him, one of them was sent

as a present to the King of Spain who, in return, sent a noble

Andalusian ram to Mr. Jefferson. Being forbidden by law to receive

presents from foreign potentates, the president kept the animal in the

grounds around the White House, as a curiosity, but the ram being very

vicious, and the boys of the city delighting to tease him, he, one day,

rushed into the streets in pursuit of some of his tormentors and killed

a young man, named Carr, whom he unfortunately encountered. Mr.

Jefferson, therefore, advertised him for sale, and thus was the first of

that breed of sheep introduced into America.

Some time during Mr. Perkins' administration, a singular character came

to reside at Harper's Ferry. His name was Brown and he was supposed to

be a native of Scotland. He had served as a surgeon in the American

army, during the Revolution. He was a bachelor and as, in addition to

the profits of his profession, he drew a pension from the government, he

was in good circumstances and able to indulge in many costly

eccentricities. He lived alone on what is now called High street, and

his cabin was situated on the lot opposite to the present residence of

Mrs. Ellen O'Bryne. A cave, partly natural and partly artificial, near

his cabin, was used as his store-house and dispensary. His

eccentricities were numerous, but the principal one was an inordinate

love for the canine and feline races. No less than fifty dogs followed

him in his daily rambles and made the night hideous in the town with

their howlings. His cats were as numerous as his dogs and they mingled

their melodies with those of their canine companions to the delectation

of his neighbors. A favorite amusement with the young men of the place,

was to watch for the doctor, when he walked abroad, and shoot some of

his dogs--an offense that was sure to earn his bitter hatred. He had

many good qualities and he made it a point never to charge an armorer

for medical advice. He died about the year 1824, and on his death-bed,

he ordered that his coffin should be made with a window in the lid and

that it should be placed in an erect position, in a brick vault which he

had erected in the cemetery, and that it should be left so for nine days

after his burial, when, he said, he would return to life. A person was

employed to visit the vault every day, until the promised resurrection

which did not take place, however, and probably will not, until the

Archangel's trump wakes him up like other people. In time the vault

crumbled to pieces, and, for years, a skull, supposed to be that of the

doctor, lay exposed on the hillside near the site of the vault and

children used it for a play-thing. Alas! poor Yorick!

With Mr. Perkins came, from eastern Virginia, the ancestors of the

Stipes and Mallory families, as well as others who were regarded as

being among the best citizens at the place. In Mr. Perkins' time a

shocking accident occurred in the armory. Michael McCabe, an employe was

caught in the machinery of one of the shops and, as he was drawn through

a space not exceeding eight inches in breadth, of course, he was crushed

to a jelly.

Mr. Perkins died at Harper's Ferry and was interred in Maryland. He was

succeeded, in 1810, by James Stubblefield, a Virginian, and a gentleman

of the true Virginia stamp. At that time, it was deemed absolutely

necessary that the superintendent of a national armory should be,

himself, a practical gun-maker. Mr. Stubblefield, therefore, in order to

satisfy the ordnance department of his fitness for the position, was

obliged to manufacture a gun, he, himself, making all the component

parts. The specimen giving satisfaction, he got his appointment, after a

considerable interregnum. His superintendency was the longest of any in

the history of the armory. It continued from 1810 to 1829, a period of

nineteen years. In 1824, some discontented spirits among the armorers

brought charges against Mr. Stubblefield which occasioned the convening

of a court martial for their investigation. The court acquitted Mr.

Stubblefield and, as he was generally popular, his friends among the

employes gave him a public dinner which was served in the arsenal yard,

in honor of his victory. While the trial was yet pending, a Mr. Lee was

appointed to the superintendency, pro tem, but, on the termination of

the court martial, Mr. Stubblefield was reinstated. During this

superintendency--August 29th, 1821, an armorer named Jacob Carman lost

his life by the bursting of a grinding-stone in one of the shops. A

fragment struck him and, such was the force of the blow, that he was

driven through the brick wall of the shop and his mangled remains were

found several steps from the building.

While Mr. Stubblefield was superintendent, about the year 1818, a

gentleman named John H. Hall, of the State of Maine, invented a

breech-loading gun--probably the first of the kind manufactured. He

obtained a patent for his invention and, the government having concluded

to adopt the gun into its service, Mr. Hall was sent to Harper's Ferry

to superintend its manufacture. Two buildings on "The Island" were set

apart for him, and he continued to make his guns in those shops until

1840, when he moved to Missouri. After this period, other buildings were

erected on the same island, for the manufacture of the minie rifle, but

the place retained the name of "Hall's Works" by which it was known in

Mr. Hall's time. It was, sometimes, called "the Rifle Factory." The

reader will understand by the term "armory," used in this book, the main

buildings on the Potomac. Although both ranges of shops were used for

the manufacture of arms, custom designated the one, "The Armory" and the

other--the less important--"the Rifle Factory" or "Hall's Works." Mr.

Hall was the father of the Hon. Willard Hall, at one time a member of

Congress from Missouri and, during the war, Governor of that state. He

was a high-toned gentleman and a man of great ability. His daughter,

Lydia, was married to Dr. Nicholas Marion, an eminent physician who

resided at Harper's Ferry from 1827 until his death in 1882. Their sons,

William V., and George H., are physicians of Washington, D. C., and are

ranked among the first, as specialists, in diseases of the eye and ear.

Another son, Robert, is a surgeon in the United States Navy. It may be

remarked here, that Harper's Ferry has contributed more than any other

place of the same size to the prosperity of other parts of our country,

especially the West and Southwest, by sending them many distinguished

people. Here, some eighty-five years ago was born, in an old house, now

in ruins, on the bank of the Shenandoah, General Jeff Thompson. "Jeff"

was but a nickname, his proper name being Merriweather Thompson. His

father was, at one time, paymaster's clerk in the armory and was very

highly respected.

Besides the parties above named, Harper's Ferry has furnished many other

eminent men to the West. Some sixty-five years ago, Captain Jacamiah

Seaman, who had resigned his position as captain in the company

stationed at Harper's Ferry, moved to Sullivan county, Missouri. He took

with him a youth to whom he had taken a fancy. The young man was named

Robert W. Daugherty and he had been left by his dying parents in care of

Mr. Martin Grace and his wife, nee O'Byrne. This lady's brother, Mr.

Terence O'Byrne, will figure further on in this history as one of John

Brown's prisoners at the time of that fanatic's famous raid. Young

Daugherty had the consent of his guardians to accompany Captain Seaman,

who was a man of very high standing at the place, and whose

family--originally of Welsh descent--were always held in the greatest

esteem in Virginia. Young Daugherty was a scion of the very warlike and

singularly successful clan of O'Daugherty, who, from time immemorial,

dwelt in the valleys of romantic Inishowen, in the county of Donegal,

Ireland, and who distinguished themselves particularly, in the

sanguinary battles of Benburb and Yellow Ford, fought in the 16th

century, to the utter destruction, by the Irish clans of two powerful

English armies. The name still flourishes in their native country, but

alas, like many others, they =will= drop the O before their name,

regardless of the loss of euphony, and the memory of the many glories

their fathers achieved under the venerable old name. Robert's father was

James Daugherty, a man of great force of character and executive

ability. He was born in Donegal about the end of the 18th century and

died young, of the cholera epidemic at Harper's Ferry, in 1831-1832,

leaving several children. He and his wife who, also died young, are

buried, side by side, in the cemetery attached to Saint John's Catholic

church, Frederick, Maryland, of which they were devoted members. Their

children were put under strict Christian guardianship, and those of them

who lived to maturity married into some of the best families of Virginia

and Maryland. Mary Jane, a highly educated lady, married Hugh Gifford,

of Baltimore. John died, we believe, unmarried, at Memphis, Tennessee,

aged 22 years. Catherine Anne, the third child, died in the Orphans'

House of the Catholic church in Baltimore aged 14 years. Elizabeth

Ellen, the youngest child, married James Wall Keenan, of Winchester,

Virginia, a brave confederate soldier, whose sister, Catherine, married

Charles B. Rouse, the Merchant Prince and gallant soldier of New York.

Robert W. Daugherty, the second son, accompanied Captain Seaman to the

West, as before stated, and, afterwards, married Lydia E. Seaman, sister

of Captain Jacamiah Seaman and Richard S. Seaman who, in the civil war,

served prominently under General T. J. Jackson. Robert W. Daugherty was

the first man in Sullivan county, Missouri, to answer the call of

Governor Jackson for volunteers, when the civil war broke out. He

entered as a private and was elected captain, but refused further

promotion. He served with distinction in the 3rd Missouri Infantry of

the Confederate army. At the close of the war, he surrendered at

Hempstead, Arkansas, and engaged in planting on Red River, Bosier

Parish, Louisiana. He died there on his plantation, June 2nd, 1877,

leaving a son, Jacamiah Seaman Daugherty, now of Houston, Texas, who

married Maggie C. Bryan, of Lexington, Kentucky, daughter of Daniel

Bryan and sister of Joseph Bryan, M. D., who, while in charge of some

hospital in New York, first applied plaster of paris in the treatment of

sprains and fractures. The Bryans are of the old family who accompanied

Boone to Kentucky. A daughter of Robert W. Daugherty--Miss May

Ellen--married Col. Caleb J. Perkins, who distinguished himself as a

fearless fighter under General Sterling Price of the Confederate army.

Col. Perkins is now dead. His widow survives him in Carroll county,

Missouri, with an only son, a young man of great promise, as befits his

gallant father's son and one with the mingled blood of the Seamans of

Virginia and the O'Daughertys of Inishowen, so many whom fought and bled

for their beloved native land on the gory fields of Benburb, Yellow Ford

and many other famous battles.

Nancy Augusta Jane Daugherty married Wesley Arnold, of Bosier Parish,

Louisiana. He was a member of the old Arnold family of Georgia. Her

husband is now dead and she lives with her two promising children--Hugh

and Genevieve Arnold in Terrel, Kaufman county, Texas. Robert Richard

Daugherty disappeared from Daugherty, Kaufman county, Texas, in the fall

of 1889. He left his store locked and his safe had a considerable amount

of cash in it. That was the last thing known of him, except that his hat

was found in a creek bottom, a mile from his store. It is supposed that

he was murdered by a band of thieves, because of his having aided in the

arrest of some of their companions. John Edward, the youngest child of

Robert W. Daugherty, married a Miss Scott in Kaufman county, Texas. He

is now a prominent farmer of Denton county, in that state.

The parties who were instrumental in bringing charges against Mr.

Stubblefield were not yet satisfied and, in 1829, he was subjected to

another trial by court martial. He was again acquitted, after a

protracted hearing and the general sympathy of the community was more

than ever before in his favor. While the second trial was progressing,

his accusers were very active in hunting up evidence against him. They

learned that Mr. Stubblefield had obligingly given to a man named

McNulty the temporary use of some tools belonging to the government.

They sought this man and they were much gratified to find that he spoke

very disparagingly of the superintendent. Expecting great things from

his evidence, they had him summoned, next day, before the court martial.

On his being questioned by the prosecuting lawyer, however, he gave the

most glowing account of Mr. Stubblefield's goodness and efficiency. Much

disappointed, the counsel for the complainants exclaimed: "Sir, this is

not what you said last night." "No," replied McNulty, "but what I said

then was nothing but street talk. I am now on my oath and I am

determined to tell the truth." The court and a great majority of the

people were satisfied, before, of Mr. Stubblefield's innocence and his

acquittal was long deemed certain, but McNulty's testimony tended to

throw contempt on the whole prosecution and ridicule is often a more

powerful weapon than reason or logic.

During the second trial, Lieutenant Symington was appointed to the

temporary superintendency, but, as in the case of Lee, at the first

trial, he was immediately withdrawn on the second acquittal of Mr.

Stubblefield, and the latter was again reinstated. The proud Virginian,

however, refused to continue in the office. He had been a benefactor to

the people and had been treated with ingratitude by many. Twice he had

been honorably acquitted by a military tribunal--always the most rigorous

of courts--and, his honor being satisfied, he voluntarily vacated the

superintendency.

In Mr. Stubblefield's time--1824--the "bell shop" of the armory was

destroyed by fire. It got its name from its having the armory bell

suspended in a turret which overtopped the roof. The origin of the fire

was unknown, but it was supposed that some sparks from a fire made in

the yard for culinary purposes, occasioned the accident.

Mr. Stubblefield was succeeded, in 1829, by Colonel Dunn. This gentleman

had been connected with a manufacturing establishment, at the mouth of

Antietam Creek. His was a melancholy history. He was a strict

disciplinarian and, indeed, he is represented as having been a martinet.

The severity of his rules offended several of the workmen, and he paid

with his life a heavy penalty for his harshness. A young man named

Ebenezer Cox, an armorer, had given offense to Lieutenant Symington,

while the latter temporarily filled the office of superintendent, during

the second court martial on Mr. Stubblefield, and, therefore, he was

dismissed by that officer. When Colonel Dunn succeeded to the office,

Cox applied to him for a reinstatement. It is said that the latter

expressed contrition and made submission to Colonel Dunn who, with

violent language, refused to be appeased and displayed great

vindictiveness by threatening with expulsion from the armory works any

employe who should shelter the offender in his house. Cox's

brother-in-law, with whom he boarded, was obliged to refuse him

entertainment, and it appeared as if Colonel Dunn was determined by all

means to force Cox to leave his native town. Thus "driven to the wall"

the desperate man armed himself with a carbine and presented himself at

the office of the superintendent, about noon, on the 30th day of

January, 1830. What conversation took place is unknown, but in a few

minutes, a report of fire arms was heard. People rushed to Colonel

Dunn's office and were met by his wife who, with loud lamentations,

informed them that her husband was murdered. The colonel was found with

a ghastly wound in the stomach, through which protruded portions of the

dinner he had eaten a few minutes before. Being a very delicate,

dyspeptic man, he generally used rice at his meals and a considerable

quantity of this food was found on the floor near him, having been

ejected through the wound, but, strange to say, it was unstained with

blood. When found the Colonel was expiring and no information could be

got from him. Mrs. Dunn was in her own house, opposite to the office,

within the armory enclosure, when the crime was committed, and knew

nothing, except the fact of the murder. She had heard the shot and,

suspecting something wrong, had entered the office and found her husband

as above described, but the murderer had escaped. Suspicion, however, at

once rested on Cox and diligent search was made for him. He was

discovered in the "wheelhouse" and taken prisoner. The arrest was made

by Reuben Stipes. Cox made no resistance and he was immediately

committed to Charlestown jail. The body of Colonel Dunn was buried in

Sharpsburg, Maryland, near the spot where, many years afterwards,

General Robert E. Lee of the Confederate army, stood while directing the

movements of his troops at the battle of Antietam. There is a tradition

that the day of his funeral was the coldest ever experienced in this

latitude. So severe, indeed, was the weather that the fact is thought

to be of sufficient interest to be mentioned in the chronicles of the

place. In the course of the following summer--August 27th--Cox was

executed publicly, near Charlestown, confessing his guilt and hinting

strongly at complicity in the crime, on the part of some others. His

words, however, were not considered to be of sufficient importance to

form grounds for indictment against those to whom he alluded, and there

were no more prosecutions. This murder marks an era in the history of

Harper's Ferry and, although many more important and thrilling events

have occurred there, since that time, this unfortunate tragedy still

furnishes material for many a fireside tale, and the site of the

building in which the murder was perpetrated is yet pointed out, as

unhallowed ground.

Cox is said to have been a remarkably handsome young man of about

twenty-four years of age. He was a grandson of Cox who, in Mr. Perkins'

time, figured in various capacities around the armory and who

particularly distinguished himself at gardening, as before related.

General George Rust succeeded Colonel Dunn in 1830. For the seven years

during which he superintended the armory, nothing of any interest is

recorded. He was rather popular with the employes, and survivors of his

time speak well of his administration. It may be that the melancholy

death of his immediate predecessor had cast a gloom on the place which

operated to prevent the occurrence of any stirring events. It is said

that General Rust spent very little of his time at Harper's Ferry. He

was a wealthy man, owning a good deal of property in Loudoun county,

Virginia, where he lived much of his time, delegating the duties of his

office in the armory to trusty assistants who managed his affairs so as

to give satisfaction to the government. Had he been a poor man his long

stays at home, no doubt, would have excited comment and some busy-body

would have reported the facts to his detriment. As it was, the General

was independent and he enjoyed his otium cum dignitate without any

attempt at interruption or annoyance from tale-bearers.

General Rust was succeeded, in 1837, by Colonel Edward Lucas, a

Virginian of Jefferson county. He was an exceedingly amiable and

generous man, although fiery and pugnacious when he deemed himself

insulted. He was extremely popular and the writer well remembers his

bent form, while he walked or rode his mule along the streets of

Harper's Ferry, lavishing kind expressions on old and young and

receiving in return the hearty good wishes of every one he met. The name

of "Colonel Ed" was familiar as a household word at the place, and, as

he was honored and respected in life, so was he lamented at his death,

which occurred in 1858, while he occupied the position of paymaster at

the armory. While Colonel Lucas was superintendent, the armory canal was

much improved by the building of a permanent rock forebay. A stone wall

also was built, extending from the front gate of the armory to the "tilt

hammer shop"--the whole river front of the grounds--protecting the yard

and shops from high waters and, indeed reclaiming from the Potomac,

several feet of land and adding that much to the government property.

Twelve good dwellings, also, were built for the use of the families of

the employes, and the place was much improved in every respect. During

the exciting presidential contest in 1840, Colonel Lucas was a strong

Van Buren man but, to his honor, he never oppressed any of the men under

him, on account of politics nor was he charged with having done so. In

1847, he was appointed paymaster, an office which he filled until his

death, eleven years afterwards.

It is said of Colonel Lucas that, if any of the mechanics or laborers

employed under him did wrong, he was not inclined to discharge them,

preferring to punish them by administering a sound thrashing. He had

several fist-fights with his men and, although he was a small man, it is

said that he always deported himself well in his combats and generally

came off winner. In any case, he was never known to use his authority as

superintendent to punish any one who had spirit enough to stand up for

what he considered his rights, even if it involved a personal quarrel

with himself. The Colonel owned a good many slaves, nearly all of whom

were of the most worthless description. It was said, indeed, with some

show of reason, that he was virtually owned by his servants. Whenever a

negro, anywhere near Harper's Ferry, had become so unprofitable that his

master determined to sell him to a trader, the slave would appeal to

Colonel Lucas to save him from the slave-drivers and servitude in

"Georgia," which was regarded, justly perhaps, by the negroes as a fate

worse than death. With them "Georgia" was a synonym for all the South.

The good-natured Colonel would purchase the slave, if possible, and,

consequently, he always had the most useless lot of servants in

Virginia. His favorite slave was a diminutive old negro named "Tanner,"

who hardly weighed one hundred pounds, but who, nevertheless, prided

himself on his muscle and was as fiery as his master. One day, Tanner

had a fight with another negro and, while they were belaboring one

another, the Colonel happened to come up, and, seeing his servant in a

tight place, he called out, "Pitch in, Tanner! Pitch in, Tanner!" The

street arabs took up the cry, and it has been used ever since, at

Harper's Ferry, in cases where great exertion of muscle or energy is

recommended. Colonel Lucas was truly a chivalrous man and we will not

see his "like again," very soon.

It is to be noted that Colonel Lucas and his predecessors, with military

titles, were, in reality, civilians, being merely militia officers or

getting the prefix to their names by courtesy. This explanation is

necessary for an understanding of the following:

THE MILITARY SYSTEM.

The Strange Story of Harper's Ferry, with Legends of the Surrounding Country · 第 1 / 7 章