Colonel Lucas was succeeded in the superintendency by Major Henry K.
Craig in 1841. The Major was an ordnance officer and, of course, his
education having been military, he was inclined somewhat to that
strictness of discipline which the most amiable of men, in military
command, soon learn to exact from their inferiors, having been taught to
observe it, themselves, toward their superiors. There were two classes
of employes in the armory--the day workers and the piece workers. By an
order of Major Craig, the latter were obliged to work the same number of
hours as the former. This edict was deemed unjust by the piece workers,
as they considered themselves entitled to the privilege of working for
whatever time they chose. They claimed remuneration, only, for the work
done, and, in their opinion, it mattered little to the government how
many hours they were employed. The superintendent thought otherwise,
however, and hence arose a "causa tetterima belli." Besides, everything
around the armory grounds assumed a military air, and a guard, at the
gate, regulated the ingress and egress of armorers and casual visitors.
Drunkenness was positively forbidden. These restrictions were not
relished at all by the armorers and the older men remembered with regret
the good old days of Perkins and Stubblefield, when the workmen used to
have hung up in the shops buckets of whiskey from which it was their
custom to regale themselves at short intervals. It is said, indeed, that
this license was carried to such excess in the time of Mr. Stubblefield
that an order was issued, prohibiting the men from drinking spirituous
liquors in the shops--a command which, at the time, was deemed arbitrary
and which was evaded through the ingenious plan of the men's putting
their heads outside of the windows, while they were taking their "nips."
These grievances rendered the men rebellious and, for some years a
bitter feud existed between the parties favoring the military system
and those who were opposed to it. In 1842, a large number of the men
chartered a boat on the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal and proceeded to
Washington City to see the president, John Tyler, and state to him their
grievances. At that time, little of an exciting nature had taken place
at Harper's Ferry. The Dunn murder, alone, furnished the whole history
of the town, up to the period of which we are treating, and that trip to
Washington, therefore, assumed an undue importance which it has retained
ever since, in the minds of the survivors of the voyage, notwithstanding
the fearful ordeals to which they were afterwards subjected. Neither
Jason and his Argonauts when they went in search of the Golden Fleece
nor Ulysses in his protracted return home from Troy encountered as many
vicissitudes of fortune as those hardy mariners of the canal boat. The
writer has been listening to stories of this expedition for more than
forty years, but as they never had any interest for him and as he does
not suppose his readers would care to hear them, he leaves them to be
collected by some future poet, able and willing to do them justice. The
octogenarian participants in this voyage deem them of surpassing
interest, but they were young when those events took place and, now,
they are old and that accounts for their fond recollection. Having
reached Washington they obtained an audience of the president who
received them in a style worthy of the head of a great nation and, what
is more in the estimation of some people, a Virginia gentleman.
Compliments were exchanged and the president gave each of them a cordial
shake of the hand, an honor which was duly appreciated, for it is
related that one of the delegation, in a burst of enthusiasm, reached
out a hand of enormous proportions and dubious color to meet that of the
president, at the same time exclaiming, "Hullo, old fellow, give us your
corn stealer." This handsome compliment, no doubt, was very gratifying
to the president, for he made them a speech in which he declared in the
most emphatic manner, that he considered the working men as the bone and
sinew of the land and its main dependence in war and in peace; that he
loved them as such and that their interests should be his care. In this
strain he continued for some time, but suddenly, he threw cold water on
the hopes he had created by telling them that "they must go home and
hammer out their own salvation." This figurative expression and the
allusion to that emblem of vulcanic labor--the hammer--were not received
with the admiration which their wit deserved, and it is said that many
loud and deep curses were uttered by some sensitive and indiscreet piece
workers, and that the august presence of "Tyler too" had not the effect
of awing the bold navigators into suitable respect for the head of the
nation. They returned home wiser but hardly better men and, from that
period dates the bitter opposition of many Harper's Ferry people to the
military system of superintendency which continued until the final
overthrow of that order of things in 1854. This contest is the chief
event of the time of Colonel Craig's command.
The Colonel was a veteran of the war of 1812. He had served on the
Canadian frontier with General Scott and had received a severe wound in
the leg, the effects of which were, ever after, apparent in his walk. He
was not, however, a graduate of West Point.
He was succeeded in 1844 by Major John Symington, another military
officer and the same who, with an inferior rank, had superintended the
armory, pro tem, during the second trial of Mr. Stubblefield. Major
Symington was an exceedingly eccentric man. His talents were undoubted
and he got credit for many virtues, but his oddities detracted much from
his usefulness. His voice was of a peculiar intonation and his gestures
were odd, but withal, he had a clear head and a good heart and, during
his administration, many improvements were made at his suggestion, and
the people were generally prosperous. The shops were remodeled, and many
believe that he did more for the prosperity of the place than any other
superintendent. Those who knew him best asserted that his eccentricities
were mere pretense and assumed for the gratification of a latent vein of
humor. On the whole, he is remembered with very kind feelings. Like
other superintendents, he was much annoyed with applications for
employment. People of every trade and calling, when out of work, thought
they had a right to a part of the government patronage, no matter how
unsuited they were, from their former occupations, to serve as armorers.
One day the Major was troubled by more than the usual number of
applicants and his temper was sorely tried. Towards evening a stranger
presented himself and made the stereotyped request for work. "Well,"
said the Major, rubbing his hands in a manner peculiar to himself, "What
is =your= trade?" "I am a saddler and harnessmaker," replied the
stranger. "Oh," said the Major, "we do not make leather guns here. When
we do we will send for you."
He made it a point to exact from his subordinates the most literal
obedience to his orders and, while he must have often regretted his
having issued absurd commands while in his pets, he always gave credit
to those who carried them out fully. He had a colored servant on whom he
could always rely for the exact performance of his most unreasonable
orders. One day, this servant carried to the dinner table a magnificent
turkey, cooked in the most approved fashion, but the Major was in one of
his tantrums and would not endure the sight of the sumptuous feast.
"Take it to the window and throw it out," said he, in the querulous tone
peculiar to him and, perhaps, to his surprise, the command was instantly
obeyed. The servant raised the window and pitched out into the lawn,
turkey, dish and all. The Major commended his servant's obedience and
was instantly appeased and induced to settle down to his dinner.
In his time, one of those exhibitions then rare, but unfortunately too
common now--a prize fight--took place at, or very near Harper's Ferry.
The then notorious Yankee Sullivan and an English bruiser named Ben
Caunt, met by appointment there in 1846, and treated the people to one
of those brutal shows. Caunt came to Harper's Ferry several weeks before
the fight and there he went through his course of training. He was the
favorite with the people, no doubt, because of his nationality--most of
the armorers being descended from Birmingham gun-smiths. Sullivan
arrived on the night before the encounter and with him came a crowd of
shoulder-hitters, pick-pockets, et hoc genus omne. They took possession
of the town and, until the fight was decided, the utmost terror
prevailed among the peaceable inhabitants. The battle ground was outside
the town limits, east of the Shenandoah, in a meadow near what is called
"the old still-house," on the line of Jefferson and Loudoun counties.
Sullivan won the fight, but the exhibition broke up in a general row.
In the summer of 1850, the fearful scourge--the Asiatic cholera again
made its appearance at the place and decimated the people. Although it
is said that the ravages of this pestilence are mostly confined to
people of dissolute habits, it was not so in this case, for it visited
the homes of rich and poor indiscriminately, and all classes suffered
equally. It is estimated that over one hundred people at the place
perished by this epidemic and, the town having been deserted by all who
could leave it, business, too, suffered severely.
Major Symington was succeeded, in 1851, by Colonel Benjamin Huger. He
was of Huguenot extraction and a native of South Carolina. His
administration was not marked by any very important events. The
excitement against the military system that arose in the time of Colonel
Craig continued unabated. During Colonel Huger's superintendency in
1851, a sad accident occurred at Harper's Ferry. On the opening of the
Baltimore and Ohio railroad from Cumberland to Fairmont, an excursion
train containing the principal officers of the road proceeded from
Baltimore to what was then the western terminus of that great channel of
commerce. A number of Harper's Ferry people determined to give them a
salute, as they passed that station, and, with this purpose, they loaded
an old twelve-pounder cannon which was kept at the armory for such
occasions. Through some mismanagement, there was a premature explosion
which caused the death of two colored men. One of them, named John
Butler, was a veteran of the war of 1812 and had been long a resident of
the town. The other, named Scipio, was, too, like Butler, well known and
respected at the place. A third party, a white man, named James
O'Laughlin, to whose want of forethought the accident was attributed,
lost his life shortly afterwards by being run over by the railway cars,
in front of the ticket office.
In 1852, on an order from the Secretary of War, the government disposed
of a considerable portion of its property at Harper's Ferry to employes
at the armory. Many of those people desired to purchase houses and the
government deemed it politic to encourage them in so doing. The plan
insured a number of prudent, sober and steady mechanics for employment
in the government works--men who, having a deep interest in the place,
would consult the well-being of society there and would feel the more
attached to the public service. Therefore, many houses and lots were
disposed of at public sale and, at the same time, many donations of land
were made by the government for religious, educational and town
purposes.
In 1852 there was a remarkable inundation at Harper's Ferry--the
greatest that, up to that time, had occurred there--at least since the
settlement of the place by white people. The winter of 1851-1852 was
exceedingly severe. From November until April, the snow lay deep upon
the ground, and when, about the middle of the latter month, there was a
heavy and warm rain for several days, the snow melted rapidly and an
unprecedented flood was the consequence. The Potomac, swollen by a
thousand tributaries, the smallest of which might aspire, at the time,
to the dignity of a river, rolled in an irresistible tide and was met by
the Shenandoah with the accumulated waters of the whole upper Valley of
Virginia. The town was literally submerged and large boats were
propelled with oar and pole along the principal streets. Of course, much
damage was done to property, but no loss of life on that occasion is
recorded. Similar inundations we have mentioned as having occurred there
in Mr. Harper's time, and in 1832 a very remarkable one took place
which is fresh in the memories of a few of the citizens. Indeed, there
is a belief that at least once in every twenty years the town is
partially submerged. Since the war these inundations are more frequent
and far more injurious than they were before, because of the wholesale
destruction of the forests for the use of the armies during the civil
war, and the increased demand for timber for mercantile purposes. The
day will come when legislation must step in to prevent this evil and
when the American people must take a lesson from certain European
governments in which the state takes charge of the forests and regulates
the cutting down and planting of trees. The suggestion is, perhaps, an
unpopular one, but it may be right nevertheless.
It may be observed that Colonel Huger afterwards became a general in the
service of the Confederacy and obtained some fame in the seven days'
fighting before Richmond.
Colonel Huger was succeeded, in 1854, by Major Bell, who was the last of
the military superintendents. He "reigned" but a few months, the
government having decided about the end of that year to change the
system of armory superintendence back from the military to the civil
order. There was great rejoicing among the anti-military men and a
corresponding depression among those of the opposite party, for the
military system had many friends at the place, although they were in a
minority.