CHAPTER IV.

THE BROWN RAID.

In the summer of 1859, a party of strangers made their appearance at

Sandy Hook, a small village of Washington county, Maryland, in the

immediate vicinity of Harper's Ferry. With them was an old man of

venerable appearance and austere demeanor who called himself Isaac

Smith. They represented themselves as being prospecting for minerals,

and they took frequent and long rambles, with this ostensible purpose,

over the various peaks of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Since the first

settlement of Harper's Ferry, it has been believed that, in the earth

beneath the wild crags of the Maryland and Loudoun Heights, mines of

different metals and of fabulous value are hidden, awaiting the eye of

science and the hand of industry to discover and develop them. Many of

the citizens of the place, from time to time, have supposed that they

had found them and no small excitement has been aroused on this account

by sanguine explorers. Specimens of different kinds of valuable ore or

what was supposed to be such, were sent to Boston and subjected to

chemical analysis and very favorable reports were returned by the most

eminent chemists and geologists of the Athens of America. No wonder was

felt, therefore, at the appearance of the party, and their expedition

over the tortuous and difficult paths of the mountains excited no

suspicion. At first, they boarded at the house of Mr. Ormond Butler,

where their conduct was unexceptionable. They paid in gold for whatever

they purchased and, as their manners were courteous to all, they were,

on the whole, very much liked by Mr. Butler's family and his guests.

After a week's stay at Sandy Hook, they removed to what is known as "the

Kennedy Farm" about five miles from Harper's Ferry, on the Maryland side

of the Potomac, where they established their headquarters. While at this

place, Smith and his party, of whom three were his sons, made

themselves very agreeable to their neighbors and they were as popular

there as they had been at Sandy Hook. The father was regarded as a man

of stern morality, devoted to church exercises, and the sons, with the

others of the party, as good-natured, amiable, young men. Thus things

continued 'till the night of Sunday, October 16th, 1859. On that night

about 10 o'clock, Mr. William Williams, one of the watchmen on the

railroad bridge, was surprised to find himself taken prisoner by an

armed party, consisting of about twenty men, who suddenly made their

appearance from the Maryland side of the river. Most of the party then

proceeded to the armory enclosure, taking with them their prisoner, and

leaving two men to guard the bridge. They next captured Daniel Whelan,

one of the watchmen at the armory, who was posted at the front gate, and

they took possession of that establishment. The party then separated

into two bodies--one remaining in the armory and the other proceeding to

the rifle factory, half a mile up the Shenandoah, where they captured

Mr. Samuel Williams--father of William Williams before mentioned--an old

and highly respected man, who was in charge of that place as night

watchman. He, too, was conducted to the armory where the other prisoners

were confined, and a detachment of the strangers was left to supply his

place. About 12 o'clock--midnight--Mr. Patrick Higgins, of Sandy Hook,

arrived on the bridge, for the purpose of relieving Mr. William

Williams. They were both in the employment of the Baltimore and Ohio

railroad company as watchmen, and each used to serve twelve hours of the

twenty-four on duty. Higgins found all in darkness on the bridge and,

suspecting that something had gone wrong with Williams, he called loudly

for him. To his astonishment he was ordered to halt and two men

presented guns at his breast, at the same time telling him that he was

their prisoner. One of them undertook to conduct him to the armory, but,

on their arriving at a point near the Virginia end of the bridge, the

hot-blooded Celt struck his captor a stunning blow with his fist, and,

before the stranger could recover from its effects, Higgins had

succeeded in escaping to Fouke's hotel, where he eluded pursuit. Several

shots were fired after him without effect, and he attributes his safety

to the fact that his pursuers, while in the act of firing, stumbled in

the darkness over some cross pieces in the bridge, and had their aim

disconcerted. About this time a party of the invaders went to the houses

of Messrs. Lewis Washington and John Alstadt, living a few miles from

Harper's Ferry, and took them and some of their slaves prisoners,

conducting them to the general rendezvous for themselves and their

captives--the armory enclosure. From the house of the former they took

some relics of the great Washington and the Revolution, which the

proprietor, of course, very highly prized. Among them was a sword, said

to be the same that was sent to the "Father of his Country" by Frederick

the Great, King of Prussia--a present, as a legend inscribed on it said,

"from the oldest General of the time to the best." All through the

night, great excitement existed among such of the citizens as became

cognizant of these facts. There happened to be, at the time, protracted

meetings at nearly all of the Methodist churches in the town and

neighborhood, and the members, returning home late, were taken prisoners

in detail, until the armory enclosure contained a great many captives,

who were unable to communicate to their friends an account of their

situation.

About one o'clock a.m., Monday, the east bound express train, on the

Baltimore and Ohio railroad, arrived in charge of Conductor Phelps. The

train was detained by order of the leader of the band, and the telegraph

wires were cut. The object of these orders was, of course, to prevent

news of the invasion from being spread. The train was allowed to

proceed, however, after a considerable delay. While the train was at

Harper's Ferry, great alarm naturally existed among the passengers who

could not understand these movements. Several shots were exchanged

between the attacking force and a Mr. Throckmorton, clerk at Fouke's

hotel, and some other parties unknown, but no person was injured. Some

time in the course of the night, Heywood Shepherd, a colored porter at

the railroad office, walked to the bridge, impelled, no doubt, by

curiosity to understand the enigma. He was ordered to halt by the guards

at the bridge and being seized with a panic and running back, he was

shot through the body. He succeeded in reaching the railroad office,

where he died next day at 3 o'clock, in great agony.

A little before daylight, some early risers were surprised to find

themselves taken prisoners, as soon as they appeared on the streets.

Among them was James Darrell, aged about sixty-five years, the

bell-ringer at the armory, whose duties, of course, compelled him to be

the first of the hands at his post. It being yet dark, he carried a

lantern. When near the gate, he was halted by an armed negro, one of the

invading party, and, Darrell, not dreaming of what was transpiring and

mistaking his challenger for one of Mr. Fouke's slaves on a "drunk,"

struck the negro with his lantern and consigned his "black soul" to a

climate of much higher temperature than that of Virginia. The negro

presented a Sharp's rifle at Darrell and, no doubt, the situation of

bell-ringer at Harper's Ferry armory would have been very soon vacant

had not a white man of the stranger party who appeared to relish very

highly the joke of the mistake, caught the gun and prevented the negro

from carrying out his intention. Another white man of the party,

however, came up and struck Darrell on the side with the butt of his

gun, injuring him severely. Darrell was then dragged before "the

captain" who, pitying his age and his bodily sufferings, dismissed him

on a sort of parole. Mr. Walter Kemp, an aged, infirm man, bartender at

Fouke's hotel, was taken prisoner about this time and consigned to Limbo

with the others.

It was, now, daylight and the armorers proceeded singly or in parties of

two or three from their various homes to work at the shops. They were

gobbled up in detail and marched to prison, lost in astonishment at the

strange doings and many, perhaps, doubting if they were not yet asleep

and dreaming. Several of the officers of the armory were captured, but

the superintendent not being in the town at the time, the invaders

missed what, no doubt, would have been to them a rich prize. About this

time, Mr. George W. Cutshaw, an old and estimable citizen of the place,

proceeded from his house on High street, towards the Potomac bridge, in

company with a lady who was on her way to Washington City and whom Mr.

Cutshaw was escorting across the river, to the place where the canal

packetboat on which she intended to travel, was tied up. He passed along

unmolested until he disposed of his charge, but, on his return, he

encountered on the bridge several armed apparitions--one of them, an old

man of commanding presence, appearing to be the leader. Mr. Cutshaw, who

was "a man of infinite jest," used to relate in the humorous manner

peculiar to himself, how he, on first seeing them, took up the thought

that a great robbery had been committed somewhere and that the tall,

stern figure before him was some famous detective, employed to discover

and arrest the perpetrators, while the minor personages were his

assistants. He was halted, but, being in a hurry for his breakfast, he

was moving on, when he received another and peremptory challenge. At

last he said impatiently, "let me go on! What do =I= know about your

robberies?" These were unfortunate words for Cutshaw, as they gave the

chief to understand that his party were suspected of an intention to

plunder--an imputation which the old warrior very highly resented. Mr.

Cutshaw was, therefore, immediately marched off to the armory and placed

among the other prisoners, where "the Captain" kept a close eye on him

until his attention was engrossed by the subsequent skirmish.

A little before 7 o'clock a.m., Mr. Alexander Kelly approached the

corner of High and Shenandoah streets, armed with a shotgun, for the

purpose of discharging it at the invaders. No sooner did he turn the

corner than two shots were fired at him and a bullet was sent through

his hat. Immediately afterwards, Mr. Thomas Boerly approached the same

corner with the same purpose. He was a man of herculean strength and

great personal courage. He discharged his gun at some of the enemy who

were standing at the arsenal gate, when a shot was fired at him by one

of the party who was crouching behind the arsenal fence. The bullet

penetrated his groin, inflicting a ghastly wound, of which he died in a

few hours.

The writer of these annals met with an adventure on this occasion which,

though it partook largely of romance to which he is much addicted, was

anything but agreeable. Sharing in the general curiosity to know what it

was all about, he imprudently walked down High street to Shenandoah

street. At the arsenal gate he encountered four armed men--two white and

two black. Not being conscious of guilt he thought he had no reason to

fear anybody. The four guards saluted him civilly and one of the white

men asked him if he owned any slaves. On his answering in the negative,

the strangers told him that there was a movement on foot that would

benefit him and all persons who did not own such property. The writer

passed on strongly impressed with the thought that, sure enough, there

was something in the wind. He then looked in at the prisoners, among

whom was Mr. Thomas Gallaher, to whom he spoke. The invaders had ceased

some time before from making prisoners, as they thought they now had as

many as they could well manage. This accounts for the writer's escape

from arrest when he first exposed himself to capture. The leader of the

party approached the writer on his speaking to Gallaher, and ordered him

off the street, telling him, that it was against military law to talk

with prisoners. Not conceiving that this stranger had a right to order

him off so unceremoniously and not being at the best of times of a very

patient temper, the historian refused to comply, when a pistol was

presented at his breast by the captain, which obliged him to duck a

little and take shelter behind a brick pillar in the wall that enclosed

the armory grounds. The commander then called out to the same men whom

the writer had encountered at the arsenal gate, on the opposite side of

the street, and who were not thirty yards off when the encounter with

the chief took place. He ordered them to shoot or to arrest the

historian and they at once prepared to obey the order. Not relishing

either alternative of death or imprisonment, the writer dodged up the

alleyway that ran along the sidewall of the armory yard, and, in order

to disconcert their aim, he took a zigzag course which probably would

not have been enough to save him from four bullets shot after him in a

narrow alley by experienced marksmen, had not aid come from an

unexpected source. And, now, for the romance. A colored woman, who was

crouching in a doorway in the alley, rushed out between him and the

guns, and, extending her arms, begged of the men not to shoot. They did

not shoot and the present generation has not lost and posterity will not

be deprived of this history, a calamity which, without the intervention

of a miracle, their shooting would have entailed. Ever since, the writer

has claimed great credit to himself for presence of mind in thinking of

the "zigzag," under these trying circumstances, but his friends

maliciously insinuate that absence of body did more to save him than

presence of mind. He takes consolation, however, by comparing himself to

the great John Smith, the first white explorer of Virginia, who was once

in an equally bad fix and was saved by the timely intervention of

another dusky maiden. The heroine who, in the present case, conferred so

great a blessing on posterity, was Hannah, a slave belonging to Mrs.

Margaret Carroll, of Harper's Ferry, and her name will be embalmed in

history, like that of Pocahontas, and it will be more gratefully

remembered than that of the Indian maiden, by future readers of this

veracious story, who will consider themselves--partly at least--indebted

to her for an unparalleled intellectual treat.

It was now breakfast time and "the captain" sent an order to Fouke's

hotel for refreshments for his men. The state of his exchequer is not

known, but he did not pay for the meals in any usual species of

currency. He released Walter, familiarly called "Watty" Kemp, the

bartender at Fouke's and he announced this as the equivalent he was

willing to pay. It is to be feared that the landlord did not duly

appreciate the advantages he gained by this profitable bargain, and it

may be that "Uncle Watty" himself did not feel much flattered at the

estimate put on him in the terms of the ransom and his being valued at

the price of twenty breakfasts. Be this as it may, the bargain was

struck and the meals furnished. The leader of the raiders invited his

prisoners to partake of the provisions as far as they would go 'round,

but only a few accepted the hospitable offer for fear of the food's

being drugged.

Up to this time no person in the town, except the prisoners, could tell

who the strange party were. To the captives, as was ascertained

afterwards, the strangers confessed their purpose of liberating the

slaves of Virginia, and freedom was offered to any one in durance who

would furnish a negro man as a recruit for the "army of the Lord."

However, as there was little or no communication allowed between the

prisoners and their friends outside, the people, generally, were yet

ignorant of the names and purposes of the invaders and, as may be

believed, Madam Rumor had plenty of employment for her hundred tongues.

Soon, however, they were recognized by some one as the explorers for

minerals and then suspicion at once rested on a young man named John E.

Cook, who had sojourned at Harper's Ferry for some years, in the various

capacities of schoolmaster, book agent and lock-keeper on the Chesapeake

and Ohio canal and who had married into a reputable family at the place.

He had been seen associating with the Smith party and, as he had been

often heard to boast of his exploits in "the Kansas war," on the Free

Soil side, it was instinctively guessed that he and the Smiths were

connected in some project for freeing the slaves and this opinion was

confirmed by the fact of there being negroes in the party. Shortly

after, a new light broke on the people and it was ascertained, in some

way, that "the captain" was no other than the redoubtable John Brown, of

Kansas fame, who had earned the title of "Ossawattomie Brown" from his

exploits in the portion of Kansas along the banks of Ossawattomie

river. The information came from one of the prisoners--Mr. Mills--who

was allowed to communicate with his family.

At the regular hour for commencing work in the morning, Mr. Daniel J.

Young, master machinist at the rifle factory, approached the gate to

these shops, expecting to find Mr. Samuel Williams at his post, as

watchman, and little anticipating to find the place in possession of an

enemy. He was met at the gate by a fierce-looking man, fully armed, who

refused him admittance, claiming that he and his companions--four or

five of whom appeared at the watch house door, on hearing the

conversation--had got possession by authority from the Great Jehovah.

Mr. Young, being naturally astonished at hearing this, asked what the

object of the strangers was and learned that they had come to give

freedom to the slaves of Virginia; that the friends of liberty had tried

all constitutional and peaceable means to accomplish this end and had

failed signally, but that, now the great evil of slavery must be

eradicated at any risk and that there were resources enough ready for

the accomplishment of this purpose. Mr. Young said in reply: "If you

derive your authority from the Almighty I must yield as I get my right

to enter only from an earthly power--the government of the United

States. I warn you, however, that, before this day's sun shall have set,

you and your companions will be corpses." Mr. Young then went back to

stop the mechanics and laborers who were on their way to go to work and

warn them of their danger. It appeared to be no part of the policy of

the strangers to keep prisoners at the rifle works, as no attempt was

made to arrest Mr. Young. This gentleman, it may be remarked, became

conspicuous afterwards for his adhesion to the cause of the Union.

During the war, he was in charge of the ordnance at Harper's Ferry, with

the rank of captain. Soon after the close of hostilities he received a

commission in the regular army with the same rank, and, after having

served the government for a long time, at various points, he was retired

some years ago, and took up his residence at Troy, New York, where he

died in 1893.

About 9 o'clock, a.m., the people had recovered from their amazement and

sought for arms wherever they thought they could find any. It was no

easy matter to find effective weapons, as the arsenal and nearly all the

storehouses were in possession of the enemy. It was remembered, however

that, some time before, a lot of guns had been removed from the place

where they were usually stored, in order to protect them from the river

which, at the time, had overflowed its banks and encroached on the

armory grounds and buildings. The arms were put away in a building

situated far above high water mark and the strangers knew not of their

existence. Enough was procured from this lot to equip a few small

companies of citizens and a desultory skirmish commenced around the

armory buildings and the adjacent streets which continued all day. A

company under Captain Henry Medler crossed the Shenandoah on the bridge

and took post on the Loudoun side of the river, opposite the rifle

works. Another company under Captain Hezekiah Roderick, took position on

the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, northwest of the armory, and a third

body, under Captain William H. Moore, crossed the Potomac about a mile

above Harper's Ferry and marched down on the Maryland side to take

possession of the railroad bridge. Thus Brown's party were hemmed in and

all the citizens who were not enrolled in any of these companies engaged

the invaders wherever they could meet them. The rifle factory was

attacked and the strangers there posted were soon driven into the

Shenandoah where they were met by the fire of Captain Medler's men who

had crossed the river on the bridge, and, between the two fires, they

all perished, except one--a negro named Copeland, who was taken

prisoner. It is said that one of the citizens named James Holt, waded

into the river after one of the enemy who had reached a rock in the

stream, knocked him down with his fist and disarmed him. Whether it was

Copeland or one of those who were afterwards killed that was thus

knocked down the writer is not informed, but that Holt performed this

feat is undoubted.

At the armory proper, however, where Brown commanded in person, a more

determined resistance was made. Brown had told several of his prisoners

in the course of the morning that he expected large re-inforcements and

when, about noon, the company of citizens under Captain Moore, that had

crossed into Maryland, was seen marching down the river road great

excitement prevailed, it being supposed by the prisoners and such of the

other citizens as were not aware of Captain Moore's movements and,

perhaps, by Brown's party, that these were, sure enough, allies of the

invaders. Soon, however, it was ascertained who they were and Brown now

seeing that the fortune of the day was against him sent two of his

prisoners, Archibald M. Kitzmiller and Rezin Cross, under guard of two

of his men, to negotiate in his name with Captain Moore for permission

to vacate the place with his surviving men without molestation. The two

ambassadors proceeded with their guards towards the bridge, but when

they came near the "Gault House" several shots were fired from that

building by which both of the guards were wounded severely and put hors

de combat. One of them contrived to make his way back to the armory, but

the other was unable to move without assistance and Messrs. Kitzmiller

and Cross helped him into Fouke's hotel, where his wounds were dressed.

It will be believed that neither of the envoys was foolish enough, like

Regulus of old, to return to captivity. Brown, finding that his doves

did not come back with the olive branch and now despairing of success,

called in from the streets the survivors of his party and, picking out

nine of the most prominent of his prisoners as hostages, he retreated

into a small brick building near the armory gate, called "the engine

house," taking with him the nine citizens. This little building was

afterwards famous under the name of "John Brown's Fort," and, from the

time of the invasion until the spring of 1892, it was an object of great

curiosity to strangers visiting the place. It was sold at the time last

mentioned to a company of speculators for exhibition at the World's Fair

in Chicago, and with it much of the glory of Harper's Ferry departed

forever. About the year 1895, it was repurchased and reshipped to

Harper's Ferry by the late Miss Kate Fields, and it is now to be seen

about two miles from its original site on the farm of Mr. Alexander

Murphy. Of course, the bricks are not relaid in their original order and

the death of Miss Fields makes its restoration to anything like its old

self very improbable. About the time when Brown immured himself, a

company of Berkeley county militia arrived from Martinsburg who, with

some citizens of Harper's Ferry and the surrounding country made a rush

on the armory and released the great mass of the prisoners outside of

the engine house, not, however, without suffering some loss from a

galling fire kept up by the enemy from "the fort." Brown's men had

pierced the walls for musketry and through the holes kept up a brisk

fusillade by which they wounded many of the Martinsburg and Harper's

Ferry people and some Charlestown men who, too, had come to take part in

the fray. The sufferers were Messrs. Murphy, Richardson, Hammond,

Dorsey, Hooper and Wollett, of Martinsburg; Mr. Young, of Charlestown,

and Mr. Edward McCabe, of Harper's Ferry. Mr. Dorsey was wounded very

dangerously and several of the others were injured severely. All got

well again, however, except one, whose hand was disabled permanently.

Before Brown's retreat to the fort, two of his men approached the corner

of High and Shenandoah streets, where Mr. Boerly had been shot in the

morning. It was then about 2 o'clock p.m. and Mr. George Turner a very

respected gentleman of Jefferson county who had come to town on private

business was standing at the door of Captain Moore's house on High

street about seventy-five yards from the corner above mentioned. He had

armed himself with a musket and was in the act of resting it on a board

fence near the door to take aim at one of those men when a bullet from a

Sharp's rifle struck him in the shoulder--the only part of him that was

exposed. The ball after taking an eccentric course entered his neck and

killed him almost instantly. A physician who examined his body

described the wound as having been of the strangest kind the bullet

having taken a course entirely at variance with the laws supposed to

prevail with such projectiles. It was thought by many that the shot was

not aimed at Mr. Turner and that the man who fired it was not aware of

that gentleman's being near. There were two citizens named McClenan and

Stedman in the middle of the street opposite to Captain Moore's house.

They had guns in their hands and at one of =them= it is supposed was

aimed the shot that proved fatal to Mr. Turner.

After this shooting the two strangers immediately retreated and a

ludicrous occurrence took place if indeed, any event of that ill-omened

day can be supposed to be calculated to excite merriment. Mr. John

McClenan--above mentioned--shot after them and his bullet striking the

cartridge box of one of them, as he was approaching the armory gate, an

explosion of his ammunition took place and he entered the gate amid a

display of fireworks of a novel description. Apparently, he did not

relish the honors paid him and, with accelerated pace, he took refuge

with his company in the engine house.

The strangers continued to fire from their fortress and they now killed

another very valuable citizen--Fountain Beckham, for many years agent of

the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company at Harper's Ferry, and long a

magistrate of Jefferson county. Being a man of nervous temperament he

was naturally much excited by the occurrences of the day. Moreover,

Heywood Shepherd, the negro shot on the railroad bridge on the previous

night, had been his faithful servant and he was much grieved and very

indignant at his death. Against the remonstrances of several friends he

determined to take a close look at the enemy. He crept along the

railroad, under shelter of a watering station, which then stood there

and peeped 'round the corner of the building at the engine house

opposite, when a bullet from one of Brown's men penetrated his heart and

he died instantly. A man named Thompson, said to be Brown's son-in-law,

had been taken prisoner a short time before by the citizens and confined

in Fouke's hotel under a guard. At first it was the intention of the

people to hand him over to the regular authorities for trial, but the

killing of Mr. Beckham so exasperated them that the current of their

feelings was changed. They rushed into the hotel, seized Thompson and

were dragging him out of the house to put him to death, when Miss

Christina Fouke, a sister of the proprietor, with true feminine

instinct, ran into the crowd and besought the infuriated multitude to

spare the prisoner's life. This noble act has elicited the warmest

commendations from every party and it may be considered the one

redeeming incident in the gloomy history of that unfortunate day. Miss

Fouke's entreaties were unheeded, however, and Thompson was hurried to

the railroad bridge, where he was riddled with bullets. He tried to

escape by letting himself drop through the bridge into the river. He had

been left for dead, but he had vitality enough remaining to accomplish

this feat. He was discovered and another shower of bullets was

discharged at him. He was either killed by the shots or drowned and, for

a day or two, his body could be seen lying at the bottom of the river,

with his ghastly face still showing what a fearful death agony he had

experienced.

Another of the invaders, named Lehman, attempted to escape from the

upper end of the armory grounds by swimming or wading the Potomac. He

had been seen shortly before conducting one of the armory watchmen,

named Edward Murphy, towards the engine house. He kept his prisoner

between himself and an armed party of citizens who were stationed on a

hill near the government works. More than a dozen guns were raised to

shoot him by the excited crowd and, no doubt, he and Murphy would have

been killed had not Mr. Zedoc Butt, an old citizen, induced the party

not to fire, in consideration of the danger to the innocent watchman.

Immediately afterwards, Lehman disappeared for a while, but soon he was

seen endeavoring to escape as above mentioned. A volley was fired after

him and he must have been wounded, as he lay down and threw up both his

arms, as if surrendering. A temporary resident of Harper's Ferry waded

through the river to a rock on which Lehman lay, apparently disabled,

and deliberately shot him through the head, killing him instantly. =His=

body, too, lay for a considerable time where he fell, and it could be

seen plainly from the high ground west of the armory. The slayer now

asserts that Lehman first drew his pistol to shoot at him.

A little before night Brown asked if any of his captives would volunteer

to go out among the citizens and induce them to cease firing on the

fort, as they were endangering the lives of their friends--the

prisoners. He promised on his part that, if there was no more firing on

his men, there should be none by them on the besiegers. Mr. Israel

Russel undertook the dangerous duty--the risk arose from the excited

state of the people who would be likely to fire on anything seen

stirring around the prison house--and the citizens were persuaded to

stop firing in consideration of the danger incurred of injuring the

prisoners. Like Messrs. Kitzmiller and Cross, Mr. Russel, it will be

readily supposed, did not return to captivity. It is certain that the

people of the place would have disposed of Brown and his party in a very

short time, had they not been prevented all along from pushing the siege

vigorously, by a regard for the lives of their fellow townsmen, who were

prisoners. As it was, they had killed, wounded or dispersed more than

three-fourths of the raiders and, consequently, the sneers that were

afterwards thrown out against their bravery, were entirely uncalled for

and were by parties who, in the subsequent war, did not exhibit much of

the reckless courage which they expected from peaceful citizens, taken

by surprise and totally at a loss for information as to the numbers and

resources of their enemies.

It was now dark and the wildest excitement existed in the town,

especially among the friends of the killed, wounded and prisoners of the

citizens' party. It had rained some little all day and the atmosphere

was raw and cold. Now, a cloudy and moonless sky hung like a pall over

the scene of war and, on the whole, a more dismal night cannot be

imagined. Guards were stationed 'round the engine house to prevent

Brown's escape and, as forces were constantly arriving from Winchester,

Frederick City, Baltimore and other places to help the Harper's Ferry

people, the town soon assumed quite a military appearance. The United

States' authorities in Washington had been notified in the meantime,

and, in the course of the night, Colonel Robert E. Lee, afterwards the

famous General Lee of the Southern Confederacy, arrived with a force of

United States' marines, to protect the interests of the government, and

kill or capture the invaders. About 11 o'clock at night Brown again

endeavored to open negotiations for a safe conduct for himself and his

men out of the place. Colonel Shriver and Captain Sinn, of the Frederick

troops, had a conference with him which, however, did not result in

anything satisfactory. About 7 o'clock on Tuesday morning--October

18th--Colonel Lee sent, under a flag of truce, Lieutenant J. E. B.

Stuart, of the 1st Cavalry regiment--afterwards so famous for his

exploits in the service of the confederacy--who had accompanied Colonel

Lee from Washington, to summon the garrison to surrender. Knowing the

character of Brown, Colonel Lee did not hope for any success in trying

to induce him to lay down his arms, and he sent Lieutenant Stuart merely

through solicitude for the prisoners and a desire to use every expedient

in his power before ordering an assault and subjecting them to the

danger of being injured by mistake in the melee. As anticipated, Brown

stubbornly refused to surrender and, therefore, about 8 o'clock, an

attack was made by the marines under Lieutenant Greene. At first, they

tried to break open the door with sledge hammers, but failing in this

they picked up a large ladder that lay near and with that used as a

battering ram they succeeded in making a breach. Through a narrow

opening thus made, Lieutenant Greene squeezed himself, but he found that

the insurgents had barricaded the door with a fire engine and hose that

were in the building. Over these obstructions Lieutenant Green

scrambled, followed by his men and attacked Brown who, with his party,

was fortified behind the engine. It is said that one of Brown's men

offered to surrender and that Brown announced the man's willingness to

do so, but, for some reason, the offer was not accepted. While the

marines were effecting a breach and when they commenced to rush in, the

enemy fired on them and one of the soldiers--Luke Quinn--was mortally

wounded and another, named Rupert, had his upper lip badly lacerated.

The former was shot through the body and, if the latter is still alive,

he certainly has an ugly scar to remind him and the others of John

Brown's raid. The insurgents were all bayoneted or captured, but

fortunately none of the citizen prisoners received any injury. Their

escape, indeed, was almost miraculous, as it was difficult for the

marines to distinguish them from the enemy. Brown himself was wounded

severely by Lieutenant Greene and he was taken to another building where

his injuries were examined by a physician and his wounds dressed. He

received a cut on the head and a sword thrust in the shoulder. Two or

three survivors of his men were kept in the engine house, under a guard

of marines. The bodies of the slain raiders were collected soon after

from the streets and rivers and, with one exception, buried in a deep

pit on the southern bank of the Shenandoah, about half a mile above

Harper's Ferry, and the prisoners--Brown included--were lodged in

Charlestown jail. One body was taken away by some physicians for

dissection, and, no doubt, the skeleton is now in some doctor's closet.

After having lain just forty years in this rude grave by the Shenandoah,

the bodies of the slain raiders were disinterred about three years ago

(1899) and taken to North Elba, New York, where they now rest close to

the grave of their famous leader. This removal and reinterment were

accomplished through the efforts and under the auspices of Professor

Featherstonhaugh, of Washington, D. C., who has ever taken a deep

interest in everything appertaining to John Brown and famous raid. Can

fiction imagine anything more weird than the reality of the sad fate of

those men?

Some of Brown's men had escaped, however, from the place, in the course

of the skirmish, and Cook had not been noticed at all in the fray or in

the town since an early hour on Monday morning, when he was seen to

cross the Potomac on the bridge into Maryland with a few others, taking

with him two horses and a wagon captured at Colonel Washington's place

on the previous night, and two or three slaves belonging to that

gentleman. There was satisfactory evidence, however, of his being fully

implicated in the outrage and it was ascertained that he, Owen

Brown--one of old John's sons--and others had been detailed to operate

on the Maryland shore and that they had seized a schoolhouse, taken the

Domine--McCurrie--prisoner and driven away the pupils, for the purpose

of establishing at the place a depot for arms convenient to Harper's

Ferry. It was learned, also, that all the day of the 17th, they had kept

up a musketry fire from the Maryland mountain on the people of the town,

and that late in the evening Cook had got supper at the canal lockhouse,

on the Maryland side of the river. Moreover, it was supposed that,

finding the fate of war against them, they had fled towards

Pennsylvania. A large body of men, under Captain Edmund H. Chambers, an

old citizen and a man of well known courage, marched towards the

Schoolhouse and the Kennedy farm and, at each place they found a large

number of Sharp's rifles, pistols, swords, &c., with a corresponding

quantity of powder, percussion caps and equipments of various kinds. A

swivel cannon carrying a one pound ball was discovered, also, in a

position to command the town, although it is not known that it was used

during the skirmish. A large number of pikes of a peculiar form, and

intended for the hands of the negroes, was also found. The blacks were

expected to turn out at the first signal, and this weapon was considered

to be better suited to them than firearms, especially at the

commencement of the campaign. It should have been mentioned before that

Brown had put into the hands of his negro prisoners some of these pikes,

but, up to the time of the discovery of the magazine at the Kennedy

farm, the object of this novel weapon was not fully understood. Captain

Chambers' party found, also, a great number of papers which tended to

throw light on the conspiracy and several hundred copies of a form of

provisional government to be set up by Brown as soon as he had got a

footing in the south.

The Governor of Virginia, Henry A. Wise, had arrived in the meantime. He

immediately took every precaution to secure the prisoners and guard the

state against any attempt from the many allies Brown was thought to have

in the north. Governor Wise indulged in many uncalled for strictures on

the people of Harper's Ferry, for their supposed inefficiency as

soldiers on this occasion, boasting that he could have taken Brown with

a penknife. This he might have done if the handle was long enough to

allow him to keep beyond rifle range while he was punching the old man

through the key hole, but with an ordinary penknife or even with a minie

musket and bayonet, it is doubtful if the governor could have done more

than was performed by many a mechanic of Harper's Ferry in the skirmish

of Monday. In the subsequent war Governor Wise held quite an important

command and history does not record of him any of the wonderful feats of

skill or courage that might be expected from a man so confident of his

own prowess as the governor was when sneering at a brave people taken by

surprise and unarmed, when an unexpected attack was made on them. To

Governor Wise Brown confessed the whole plan for liberating the slaves

and, indeed, he had, all along, communicated to his prisoners his

intentions, but, as before noted, he kept his captives isolated as much

as possible and, in consequence, the people generally had but a vague

suspicion of his purpose. It is true that the party at the rifle factory

had informed Mr. Young of their objective, but so many wild rumors had

been started before his interview with them, and there was so much

general confusion that "neither head nor tail" could be found for the

strange occurrences of the day. The governor who, although he exhibited

a great deal of petulance on this occasion, was certainly a gallant man

himself, could not refrain from expressing admiration for Brown's

undaunted courage, and it is said that he pronounced the old man honest,

truthful and brave.

The interview between these two men of somewhat similar character,

though of diametrically opposite views on politics, is said to have been

very impressive. It lasted two hours and those who were present reported

that Brown exhibited a high order of uncultivated intellect in his

conversation with the highly educated and polished governor of Virginia.

It is said, also, that in the course of this interview, Brown foretold

the utter destruction of Harper's Ferry to take place in a very short

time--a prophecy which, if uttered at all, has met with a terrible and

literal fulfillment. Brown, Wise and the group surrounding them while

this conversation was in progress, would furnish a fine theme for a

picture. The stern, old Puritan with his bleeding wounds and disordered

dress, his long, gray beard and wild gleaming eyes, like some prophet of

old, threatening the wrath of Heaven on a sinful generation, and the

stately governor of Virginia reminding one of some cavalier of Naseby or

Worcester--each firm and true as the blade he carried and each a type of

the noble though fanatical race from which he sprang, would make an

impressive picture and, perhaps, the scene will exercise, some day, the

genius of a future painter.

On Wednesday night, October 19th, while the fever of excitement was yet

at its height, a gentleman residing in Pleasant Valley, Maryland, about

three miles from Harper's Ferry, heard a rumor that the "abolitionists"

and the slaves were butchering the people around Rohrsville, a few miles

farther up the same valley, and very properly gave notice of what he had

heard, riding furiously through Sandy Hook, towards the centre of the

trouble, the government armory. The people of Sandy Hook, men, women and

children rushed wildly towards the same point for protection at the

hands of the troops there assembled, while the people of Harper's Ferry

were equally wild with this new excitement. The marines who were yet at

the place turned out and marched to the point designated, where their

appearance caused another and more reasonable alarm among the people

there, who had not been disturbed by Brownites, white or black and who,

for a long time, could not be convinced that the soldiers had come to

protect and not molest them. Sandy Hook was totally deserted by its

people on this occasion, and many of them hurried away whatever of their

portable property they deemed most valuable. It is said that one man

shouldered a half-grown hog of a favorite breed and made tracks to

Harper's Ferry, and, as he and his neighbors scoured along the road, the

squeals of the indignant pig blended harmoniously with the multifarious

noises of the flying column. The marines, finding no enemy, returned to

Harper's Ferry, but, for many weeks afterwards, similar alarms were

started by nervous or mischievous people with nearly the same results.

Harper's Ferry was now patrolled every night by details of citizens

until the execution of Brown, which took place near Charlestown,

December 2d, 1859. Many a midnight tramp did the author take along the

muddy streets that winter with an old Hall's rifle on his shoulder when

his turn came to watch out for prowling abolitionists. The companion of

his watch was a worthy Milesian gentleman named Dan. O'Keefe, from "the

beautiful city called Cork." They made it a point to watch Dan's house

particularly, through a very natural praiseworthy anxiety on the part of

that gentleman for the safety of his better half and several pledges of

love presented from time to time by that excellent lady to her lord and

master, as well as for the sake of a corpulent flask which the

hospitable Hibernian never failed to produce from a cupboard, near the

door, when in their rounds, they came to his house. As the night and the

contents of the flask waned, the courage of the brothers-in-arms arose

and it is fortunate, perhaps, for the fame of Horatius Cocles, Leonidas

and other celebrated defenders of bridges or passes that no

abolitionists attempted to cross to "the sacred soil of Virginia" while

those worthies were on guard and full of patriotic enthusiasm and

whiskey punch. No doubt, their exploits would have eclipsed those of

the above mentioned Roman and Greek and of anybody else who has gained

celebrity by blocking the passage of an enemy. Several companies of

armorers were organized for the defense of the place and, once a week

did they display all "the pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war"

marching and countermarching along the streets, to the delight of the

ladies, the children and, no doubt, of themselves, as well as to the

terror of any book peddler from the north who might be in the

neighborhood and who might reasonably be suspected of being opposed to

slavery. A force of United States troops under Captain Seth Barton,

afterwards prominent in the service of the confederacy, was stationed at

Harper's Ferry and, gradually, quiet was restored. A Milesian warrior,

named Sergeant McGrath of the above troop was detailed to instruct the

awkward squad of citizens in the manual of arms and his deep Munster

Doric could be heard on parade evenings thundering his commands to

refractory recruits.

Cook and another of Brown's party, named Albert Hazlett, were arrested

in Pennsylvania and brought back to Virginia on requisitions. This

circumstance furnished a lesson to the fanatics who unhappily abounded

on both sides of Mason and Dixon's line. To the southern men it ought to

have proved that the people of the north did not sympathize to any great

extent with the invaders of Virginia and to the northern people who

expressed themselves as being shocked at the want of clemency exhibited

by the state of Virginia on this occasion, it showed that among

themselves were men who were ready to deliver over Brown's party to the

tender mercies of the slave holders for the sake of a few hundred

dollars offered as a reward for this service.

Cook and another white man, named Edwin Coppic, with two negroes, named

Green and Copeland, were executed on the 16th of December, in the same

year and Hazlett and Aaron D. Stevens--both white--met the same fate on

the 16th of March, 1860.

Brown's trial was, of course, a mere matter of form. He took no pains to

extenuate his guilt and openly avowed that he desired no favors from

the state of Virginia. Two young lawyers of Boston, named Hoyt and

Sennott, volunteered to defend him and they acquitted themselves

creditably. The Honorable Samuel Chilton, of Washington City, was

employed for the defense by John A. Andrew, of Massachusetts, afterwards

governor of that state, but, of course nothing could save the prisoner

and he was executed as before stated.

Brown died with unshaken fortitude and, bitter as the animosity against

him was, his courage or rather his stoic indifference elicited the

admiration of even his unrelenting enemies. Indeed it is difficult at

the present time to do justice to the character of this remarkable man,

but, no doubt, the future historian of this country who will write when

the passions that excite us have subsided or, perhaps, are forgotten

will class him with the Scotch Covenanters of the 17th century. It

appears to the writer that in many respects John Brown very closely

resembled John Balfour, of Burly, whose character is so finely portrayed

in Scott's "Old Mortality." The same strong will and iron nerve and the

same fanaticism characterized these two men and it must be said of both,

for Burly's character is taken from life--that, while no sane person can

wholly approve of their actions, their most implacable opponents cannot

deny a tribute of respect to their unflinching courage. The other

prisoners, also, died bravely and, indeed, it was a melancholy thing to

see men of so much strength of character lose their lives in such a

foolish undertaking--foolish, as far as the limited facilities of man

can reach--but wise, perhaps, could men understand the workings of Him

"whose thoughts are not our thoughts and whose ways are not our ways."

In judging of this invasion it is well to remember that everything which

John Brown proposed to do was successfully accomplished within five

years from the day of his execution, and who can tell how much active

providential interference there was in this apparently wild and lawless

enterprise?

An attempt to escape was made by Cook and Coppic on the night before

their execution. By some means they succeeded in eluding the vigilance

of the cell watch and in climbing the outer wall of the prison when they

were challenged by a citizen guard who was posted outside and their

further progress was prevented. The name of the sentinel who discovered

them in their flight was Thomas Guard and many jokes and puns were

perpetrated for months afterwards on the coincidence. They were taken

back immediately to their cell and closely =guarded= 'til morning.

A characteristic anecdote was told by the late Mr. James Campbell, who

was sheriff of Jefferson county at the time of the Brown troubles. It

will be remembered that, on the morning of the raid, Brown got breakfast

for his men at Fouke's hotel and that, in liquidation, he restored to

liberty Walter Kemp, the bartender, whom he had taken prisoner. A short

time before Brown's execution Sheriff Campbell sold some property

belonging to Brown which was found at the Kennedy farm and was

accounting to him for it, and naming some claims presented against him

by various parties with whom Brown had had dealings. Among these claims

was one of Mr. Fouke for the refreshments mentioned. Brown was reclining

on his bed, not having yet recovered from his wounds, and, no doubt,

with his spirit darkened by the shadow of his impending fate. He

listened apathetically to the list of debts, until that of Mr. Fouke was

mentioned when he suddenly rose up and protested against this demand.

"Why, Mr. Campbell," said he, "I made a fair exchange with Mr. Fouke; I

restored to him his bartender as pay for the meals referred to, and I do

not think it honorable in him to violate the contract." Mr. Campbell

replied: "Why, Mr. Brown, I wonder at you. I thought you were opposed to

trading in human flesh, but, now, I find that even you will do it, like

other people, when it suits your convenience." A grim smile played for a

moment 'round the old Puritan's firmly compressed mouth. He lay down

again quietly and remarked "Well, there may be something in =that=,

too." He made no further opposition to the claim. A part of the property

disposed of by Sheriff Campbell was a horse which Brown had bought from

a Harper's Ferry horse trader. In the transaction Brown had been badly

bitten, as the animal was nearly valueless and, on the day of the raid

the old man made particular inquiries about the tricky trader. The

latter was warned of his danger and took care not to encounter his

victim, who, with all the solemn thoughts of a great national uprising,

and the fearful risk of his undertaking, was yet smarting from the petty

deception put on him in the sale and eager to take vengeance for it.

On the morning of his execution he bade an affectionate farewell to his

fellow captives with the exception of Cook whom he charged with having

deceived him, and Hazlett of whom he denied any knowledge. It is said

that he gave to each of them, with the exceptions noted, a silver

quarter of a dollar, as a memento and told them to meet their fate

courageously. His pretense not to know Hazlett was understood to be for

the benefit of the latter whose trial had not yet come off. Hazlett

stoutly denied that he knew anything of Brown or that he was connected

in any way with the raid on Harper's Ferry. It will be remembered that

he was arrested in Pennsylvania, some time after the invasion, and, of

course, his defense, if he had any, was an alibi. A very absurd story

was published about Brown's taking a colored baby from its mother's arms

at the scaffold and kissing it. No colored person of either sex would

dare to approach the scene of the execution. The slaves were frightened

and bewildered so thoroughly at the time that their sole aim was to

avoid the public eye as much as possible but the paragraph promised to

take well and the reporter was not disappointed.

Brown's wife arrived at Harper's Ferry shortly before his execution and,

to her his body was delivered for burial. He was interred at North Elba,

in the State of New York, where he had resided for some years. His wife

was a rather intelligent woman and she did not appear to sympathize with

her husband's wild notions on the subject of slavery. In conversation

with a citizen of Harper's Ferry she expressed an opinion that Brown

had contemplated this or a similar attack for thirty years, although he

had never mentioned the subject to her. The bodies of Cook, Coppic,

Hazlett and Stevens, also, were delivered to friends, and it is said

that the last named two are buried near the residence of a benevolent

lady of the Society of Friends in New Jersey. She had always sympathized

with their cause and she provided their remains with the only thing now

needed--a decent burial.

Many anecdotes of John Brown are told in the neighborhood of the Kennedy

farm where he and his party resided during the greater part of the

summer previous to the attack, and they serve to illustrate the

character of this extraordinary man. Whenever he killed an animal for

his own use and that of his men he invariably sent a portion of it to

some of his neighbors, many of whom were poor and sorely in need of such

attentions. In other respects, also, especially in his love for

children, he exhibited a kindness of heart which made him to be much

liked by all who knew him. He was very regular in his attendance at

church exercises and his piety was undoubtedly genuine, as will appear

from the following: Once, a large crowd had assembled in a log

schoolhouse to listen to an itinerant preacher. The minister made but a

very poor show and his sermon was considered, even in that

unsophisticated region, as far below mediocrity. John Brown or Isaac

Smith, as he was then called, was one of the audience and, all through

the sermon he kept his eyes riveted on the preacher and appeared to be

totally absorbed in attention, as much so, indeed, as if the pulpit was

occupied by Henry Ward Beecher or some other far famed divine. When the

sermon was concluded one of Brown's neighbors in the audience made some

jocular remark about the preacher and the discourse and asked Brown if,

ever before, he had heard such trash from a pulpit. "Sir," said the

stern old man. "When I come to hear the word of God, I do not propose to

criticize the preaching of His minister. I recognize the Master, humble

as the servant may be, and I respect His word, though coming from the

mouth of an obscure and illiterate man."

On the other hand he sometimes savored strongly of blasphemy, whenever

religious dogmas or tenets appeared to clash in any way with his

favorite hobby. After his conviction many preachers of various

denominations offered him the consolation of religion according to their

particular rites. At their introduction to him Brown always asked these

gentlemen: "Do you approve of slavery?" As the answer at that time was

sure to be in the affirmative for not even a minister of the Gospel

dared then to hint at any sin in "the institution"--he refused to

receive their services, preferring to go before his God unshriven to

accepting the ministrations of slavery-loving preachers. One reverend

gentleman remarked to him that Saint Paul himself had sent back a

fugitive slave to his master, when Brown, with his dark eye ablaze said:

"Then Saint Paul was no better than you are." And in this spirit he

entered the great unknown, where it is to be hoped that honest

convictions receive at least as much honor as well conned creeds,

learned by rote, and often wanting in the great essential--an active

charity.

The gallows on which Brown was hung must have been a vast fabric and the

rope used must have been as long as the Equinoctial Line, or, else, both

had some miraculous powers of reproduction. Of the many thousands of

soldiers who were stationed from time to time in Jefferson county, from

the day of Brown's execution till the last regiment disappeared, more

than a year after the war, almost every other man had a portion of

either as a souvenir of his sojourn in Virginia. The writer saw pieces

of wood and fragments of rope purporting to have formed parts of

them--enough to build and rig a large man-of-war. If the soldiers

believed they had genuine relics they were as well contented as they

would be if they had the reality and it would be cruel to undeceive

them. The true history of that scaffold is as follows: It was built by a

carpenter of Charlestown, named David Cockerell, expressly for the

execution of Brown. When this purpose was accomplished the builder took

it to his home, and put it away as a curiosity. When the war broke out

Cockerell joined the confederate army and acted as engineer on the staff

of Stonewall Jackson. Fearing that in his absence from home his family

might be annoyed by soldiers coming to see the relic or, if possible, to

steal it, he ordered it to be built into a porch attached to the house

and the whole structure to be painted in the same color so that no

stranger could guess at anything beyond the common in the ordinary

looking porch. Cockerell died some years after the war, and it is said

that his heirs disposed of the famous scaffold to some Washington City

speculators, who proposed to exhibit it at the World's Fair in Chicago

in 1893. The writer gives this history of the scaffold as he has

received it from trustworthy sources. For several months after the raid

a brisk trade was prosecuted by the boys of Harper's Ferry selling "John

Brown pikes" to railroad passengers who, every day now stopped at the

station from curiosity and, as the number of genuine pikes was not very

large, the stock must have been exhausted in a very short time. It is

said, however, that some ingenious and enterprising blacksmiths in the

neighborhood devoted much of their time and capital to the manufacture

of imitations, and it is certain that the number of pikes sold to

strangers exceeded, by a great many, the number supposed to have been

captured at Brown's headquarters.

The names of the invaders, as well as could be ascertained, were as

follows: John Brown, Watson Brown, Oliver Brown, Owen Brown, Aaron D.

Stevens, Edwin Coppic, Barclay Coppic, Albert Hazlett, John E. Cook,

Stuart Taylor, William Lehman, William Thompson, John Henrie Kagi,

Charles P. Tydd, Oliver Anderson, Jeremiah Anderson, 'Dolph Thompson,

Dangerfield Newby, Shields Greene alias "Emperor," John Copeland and

Lewis Leary, of whom the last four were negroes or Mulattoes.

John Brown was, at the time of the raid, fifty-nine years old. He was

about five feet and eleven inches in height, large boned and muscular,

but not fleshy, and he gave indications of having possessed in his youth

great physical strength. His hair had been a dark brown, but at this

period it was gray. His beard was very long and, on the day of the

raid, it hung in snowy waves to his breast and helped to give to his

aquiline features a singularly wild appearance. His eyes were of a dark

hazel and burned with a peculiar light that gave promise of a quick

temper and a daring courage. His head, as it appeared to the writer, was

of a conical shape, and, on the whole, his physique well corresponded

with the traits of his character. The portrait of him in this book is an

admirable likeness. He was a native of Connecticut, but he had resided

for many years in the states of New York and Ohio where, it is said, he

was a rather extensive and successful wool-grower. He was twice married

and he had a very large family of sons and daughters, the most of whom

were married. He emigrated to Kansas at an early period in the history

of that territory and he was an acknowledged leader in the civil broils

which distracted that region for several years. Of course, various

opinions were entertained concerning him--the Free Soil men considering

him a hero, and the pro-slavery people regarding or affecting to regard

him as a demon incarnate. It is said that, in 1851, he visited Europe

with the ostensible purpose of exhibiting samples of wool, but in

reality to study the science of earth fortifications and gain military

knowledge to be made available in a servile war which he designed to

excite at a suitable opportunity. He certainly suffered a great deal in

Kansas--losing one of his sons, Frederick, and a considerable amount of

property in fighting the southern settlers, and it is probable that a

bitterness of feeling on this account mingled with his natural hatred of

slavery.

There was confusion respecting the identity of his two sons--Watson and

Oliver. They were both mortally wounded on the 17th. One of them,

supposedly, a young man apparently about twenty-three years of age, of

low stature, with fair hair and blue eyes, was shot in the stomach and

died in the course of the night in the engine house, while the party had

still possession of it. It is said that he suffered terrible agony and

that he called on his companions to put him out of pain by shooting him.

His father, however, manifested no feeling on the occasion beyond

remarking to his boy that "he must have patience; that he was dying in a

good cause, and that he should meet his fate like a brave man." The

other was a tall man, about six feet in height, with very black hair.

He, also, as before stated, was wounded in the skirmish of the 17th, and

he died next morning, after the marines got possession of the engine

house. He was one of the two men who were wounded from "the Gault

house." When he died his father was a prisoner and badly wounded. On

learning that one of his men had died a few minutes before, he sent out

to inquire if it was his son and, on being informed that it was, he

manifested the same stoicism and made a remark similar to the one of the

previous night, when the other son was dying--that the cause was good

and that it was glorious to die for its sake. When the news reached him

he was engaged in the interview with Governor Wise. After satisfying

himself as to the identity of the man just deceased, he resumed his

conversation with the governor, as if nothing had happened which was

calculated in the least to discompose him. As before noted, there is a

doubt with the people of Harper's Ferry as to which of these two men was

Oliver and which was Watson, and, indeed, whether or not the fair-haired

youth was his son at all.

Owen Brown was one of those detailed to operate in Maryland. He was not

in the skirmish, and he made his escape and was not seen again in

Virginia or Maryland. The writer has no knowledge of his appearance or

age.

Aaron D. Stevens was a remarkably fine looking young man of about thirty

years of age. He was about five feet and ten inches in height, heavily

built and of great symmetry of form. His hair was black and his eyes of

dark hazel had a very penetrating glance. He was said to be a desperate

character and, as it was reported that he had suggested to Brown the

murder of the prisoners and the firing of the village, there was greater

animosity felt towards him than any of the others, except, perhaps,

Captain Brown himself and Cook. He received several wounds in the

skirmish and it was thought he could not survive them. In consequence of

these injuries he was one of the last put on trial and executed. He was

said to be a believer in spiritualism or spiritism which is, perhaps,

the proper term. He was the one who was so badly wounded from "the Gault

house" and who was taken to Fouke's hotel. Had he not been disabled, it

is to be feared, from what is reported of him, that a massacre of the

prisoners would have been perpetrated on his recommendation. Whatever

his crimes may have been it is certain that he was a man of undaunted

courage and iron nerve. While he lay at Fouke's hotel helpless from his

wounds, a crowd of armed and frenzied citizens gathered 'round him, and

it was with the utmost difficulty that a few of the less excited people

succeeded in saving his life for the present. One man put the muzzle of

his loaded gun to Stevens' head with the expressed determination to kill

him instantly. Stevens was then unable to move a limb, but he fixed his

terrible eyes on the would-be murderer and by the sheer force of the

mysterious influence they possessed, he compelled the man to lower the

weapon and refrain from carrying out his purpose. To this day the

magnetized man avers that he cannot account for the irresistible

fascination that bound him as with a spell.

Edwin Coppic or Coppie was a young man aged about twenty-four years,

about five feet and six inches in height, compactly built and of a

florid complexion. He was a very handsome youth, and for various

reasons, great sympathy was felt for him by many. He was not wounded in

the skirmish, but he was taken prisoner by the marines in the engine

house. He had come from Iowa where resided his widowed mother, a pious

old lady of the Society of Friends. He had been for a long time in the

employ of a Mr. Thomas Gwynn, living near Tipton, Cedar county, in the

above mentioned state. Mr. Gwynn was a farmer and merchant and Coppic

assisted him as a farm laborer and "help" around his store. His employer

was much attached to him and came to Charlestown for his remains, which

he took with him to Iowa. After Coppic's conviction a petition was

forwarded to the governor of Virginia, requesting executive clemency in

his case. It was not successful, however, and he was executed as before

stated. In conversation with a citizen of Harper's Ferry who interviewed

him in his cell, Coppic said that, when he left his home in Iowa, he had

no intention to enter on any expedition like the one against Virginia,

but he confessed that his object was to induce slaves to leave their

masters, and to aid them to escape.

Of Barclay Coppic little is known in Virginia beyond the fact that he

was Edwin's brother and that he was with Brown's party in the raid. He

was with Owen Brown and Cook on the Maryland side of the Potomac while

the skirmish was in progress and he was not captured. It is said that he

was killed some years ago in a railroad accident in Missouri.

Albert Hazlett, of Pennsylvania, was a man of about five feet and eleven

inches in height, raw-boned and muscular. His hair was red and his eyes

were of a muddy brown color and of a very unpleasant expression. He was

very roughly dressed on the day of the raid, and in every sense of the

word he looked like an "ugly customer." He made his escape from Harper's

Ferry on the evening of the 17th, about the time when Brown withdrew his

force into the engine house, but he was afterward captured in

Pennsylvania and executed with Stevens. His age was about thirty-three

years.

John E. Cook was a native of Connecticut and he was a young man of about

twenty-eight years--five feet and eight inches in height, though, as he

stooped a good deal, he did not appear to be so tall. He had fair hair

and bright blue eyes and he was, on the whole, quite an intelligent

looking man. As before stated, he had resided several years at Harper's

Ferry, and he had become acquainted with all the young men of the place,

by whom he was regarded as a pleasant companion. He had married a

respectable young lady of the place, who knew nothing of his former life

or of his plans against the peace of Virginia. He was highly connected

and the governor of Indiana at that time--Willard--was his

brother-in-law, being the husband of Cook's sister. At his trial Daniel

Voorhees, afterward so famous as a politician and criminal lawyer, made

a speech for the defense which is regarded as one of his best efforts.

Little is known of Stuart Taylor. Some contend that he was a man of

medium size and very dark complexion, while others believe that he was a

redhaired young man who was bayoneted by the marines in the engine house

and dragged dead from that building at the same time that Brown was

removed. The writer is inclined to the latter opinion and he thinks that

those who favor the former confound him with a man named Anderson of

whom mention will soon be made at some length.

William Lehman, who was killed on a rock in the Potomac while

endeavoring to escape, was quite a young man, with jet black hair and a

very florid complexion. The killing of this young man was, under all

circumstances of the case, an act of great barbarity, as he had made

signs of a desire to surrender. The man who shot him was, as before

stated, but a temporary resident of Harper's Ferry and, in reality,

belonged to a neighboring county. Nothing can be gained by giving his

name and the concealing of it may save people yet unborn from unmerited

shame. In justice it must be said that he now claims that Lehman drew a

pistol to shoot him, but we did not hear of this until very lately.

William Thompson, who was shot on the bridge, was a man apparently of

about thirty years of age, of medium size, but of a symmetrical and

compact form. His complexion was fair, and he gave indications of being

a man of pleasant disposition. He was well known to many in the

neighborhood of the Kennedy farm and he was very popular with all his

acquaintances there. The killing of this man was unnecessary, also, but

some palliation for it may be found in the excitement caused by Mr.

Beckham's death.

John or, as he was sometimes called, Henrie Kagi, is said to have been a

remarkably fine looking man, with a profusion of black hair and a

flowing beard of the same color. He was about thirty years of age, tall

and portly, and he did not display the same ferocity that many of the

others exhibited. He was "secretary of war" under Brown's provisional

government and he held the rank of captain. He is supposed to have been

a native of Ohio. He was killed in the Shenandoah near the rifle

factory.

Of Charles P. Tydd little is known. It is said that, before the raid, he

used to peddle books through the neighborhood of Harper's Ferry. As far

as ascertained, he did not appear in the fight, but escaped from

Maryland to parts unknown. It is said that he was a native of Maine.

Respecting the identity of Oliver and Jeremiah Anderson there is a

doubt, as in the case of the young Browns. One of them was killed by the

marines, but what became of the other is unknown. The man who was killed

was about thirty years of age, of middle stature, very black hair and

swarthy complexion. He was supposed by some to be a Canadian mulatto. As

before noted, he is confounded by many with Stuart Taylor. He received

three or four bayonet stabs in the breast and stomach and, when he was

dragged out of the engine house to the flagged walk in front of that

building, he was yet alive and vomiting gore from internal hemorrhage.

While he was in this condition a farmer from some part of the

surrounding country came up and viewed him in silence, but with a look

of concentrated bitterness. Not a word did the countryman utter, as he

thought, no doubt, that no amount of cursing could do justice to his

feelings. He passed on to another part of the armory yard and did not

return for a considerable time. When he came back Anderson was yet

breathing and the farmer thus addressed him: "Well, it takes you a h--

of a long time to die." If Anderson had vitality enough left in him to

hear the words this soothing remark must have contributed greatly to

smooth his way to the unknown land of disembodied spirits. The writer

heard from very good authority that another and still greater barbarity

was practised towards this helpless man while he was in the death agony.

Some brute in human shape, it is said, squirted tobacco juice and

dropped his quid into the dying man's eye. The writer did not see the

latter occurrence, but it was related by witnesses of undoubted

veracity. After death, also, this man--Anderson--was picked out for

special attentions. Some physicians of Winchester, Virginia, fancied him

as a subject for dissection and nem. con. they got possession of his

body. In order to take him away handily they procured a barrel and tried

to pack him into it. Head foremost, they rammed him in, but they could

not bend his legs so as to get them into the barrel with the rest of the

body. In their endeavors to accomplish this feat they strained so hard

that the man's bones or sinews fairly cracked. These praiseworthy

exertions of those sons of Galen in the cause of science and humanity

elicited the warmest expressions of approval from the spectators. The

writer does not know, certainly, what final disposition they made of the

subject which the Fates provided for them, without the expense or risk

of robbing a grave.

'Dolph Thompson was quite a boy and he appeared to be an unwilling

participator in the transaction. He was seen by not more than two or

three of the citizens, and it is supposed that he escaped early on the

17th. He had fair hair and a florid complexion.

Dangerfield Newby was a tall and well built mulatto, aged about thirty

years. He had a rather pleasant face and address. He was shot and killed

at the Arsenal gate by somebody in Mrs. Butler's house opposite, about

11 o'clock, a.m., on Monday, and his body lay where it fell until the

afternoon of Tuesday. The bullet struck him in the lower part of the

neck and went down into his body, the person who shot him being in a

position more elevated than the place where Newby was standing. Mr.

Jacob Bajeant, of Harper's Ferry, used to claim the credit of having

fired the fatal shot, and the people generally accorded him the honor. A

near relative and namesake of George Washington disputes Bajeant's claim

and is confident that it was a shot from =his= rifle that put an end to

Newby's career. Mr. Bajeant is now dead and it is not likely that the

question will be brought up again. From the relative positions of the

parties, the size of the bullet or some other circumstance, the hole in

Newby's neck was very large, and the writer heard a wag remark that he

believed a smoothing iron had been shot into him. The writer has no

intention to make light, as might appear from the following, of what was

a fearful occurrence. He relates the simple truth, as many can attest.

Some fastidious critics have objected to the details of this tragedy in

former editions of this book, but Truth is mighty and ought to prevail.

That Newby's body was torn by hogs at Harper's Ferry is too well known

to require an apology for a relation of the facts, although the details

are undoubtedly disgusting. Shortly after Newby's death a hog came up,

rooted around the spot where the body lay and, at first appeared to be

unconscious that anything extraordinary was in its way. After a while,

the hog paused and looked attentively at the body, then snuffed around

it and put its snout to the dead man's face. Suddenly, the brute was

apparently seized with a panic and, with bristles erect and drooping

tail, it scampered away, as if for dear life. This display of

sensibility did not, however, deter others of the same species from

crowding around the corpse and almost literally devouring it. The writer

saw all this with his own eyes, as the saying is, and, at the risk of

further criticism, he will remark that none of the good people of

Harper's Ferry appeared to be at all squeamish about the quality or

flavor of their pork that winter. Nobody thought on the subject or, if

anybody did recall the episode, it was, no doubt, to give credit to the

hogs for their rough treatment of the invaders.

On Tuesday evening, after Brown's capture, and when the people were

somewhat relieved from the terror of a more extensive and dangerous

invasion, a citizen of Harper's Ferry, who had not had a chance to

distinguish himself in the skirmish of Monday, fired a shot into what

was left of Newby's body, a feat which, it must be supposed, tended to

exalt him, at least, in his own estimation. Like Kirkpatrick at the

murder of the Red Comyn, he thought he would "make sicker" and guard

against any possibility of the dead man's reviving. The citizen referred

to was somewhat under the influence of whiskey when he fired the

superfluous shot, but the writer saw another man who was apparently

sober and who was certainly a person of excellent standing in the

community, kick the dead man in the face and, on the whole, great a

crime as the invasion of the place was and natural as the animosity

towards the raiders should be considered, it must be confessed that the

treatment the lifeless bodies of those wretched men received from some

of the infuriated populace was far from creditable to the actors or to

human nature in general.

Shields Greene alias "Emperor" was a negro of the blackest hue, small in

stature and very active in his movements. He seemed to be very officious

in the early part of Monday, flitting about from place to place, and he

was evidently conscious of his own great importance in the enterprise.

It is supposed that it was he that killed Mr. Boerly. He is said to have

been a resident of the State of New York, but little is known with

certainty about him. He was very insulting to Brown's prisoners,

constantly presenting his rifle and threatening to shoot some of them.

He was aged about thirty years.

John Copeland was a mulatto of medium size, and about twenty-five years

of age. He was a resident of Oberlin, Ohio, where he carried on the

carpenter business for some years.

Lewis Leary, a mulatto, was mortally wounded at the rifle factory in

Monday's skirmish and died in a carpenter's shop on the island. He was a

young man, but his personal appearance cannot be described minutely by

any person not acquainted with him before the raid, as he was suffering

a great deal from wounds when he was captured and, of course, his looks

were not those that were natural to him. He, too, had resided in

Oberlin, and his trade was that of harness making.

A negro man whom Colonel Washington had hired from a neighbor and who

had been taken prisoner with his employer on the previous night was

drowned while endeavoring to escape from his captors. He was an

unwilling participant in the transactions of the day, and no blame was

attached to him by the people.

Heywood Shepherd, the first man killed by Brown's party, was a very

black negro aged about forty-four years. He was uncommonly tall,

measuring six feet and five inches, and he was a man of great physical

strength. He was a free man, but, in order to comply with a law then

existing in Virginia, he acknowledged 'Squire Beckham as his master. The

relations of master and slave, however, existed only in name between

them and "Heywood" accumulated a good deal of money and owned some

property in Winchester. He was a married man and he left a wife and

several children. It is supposed by many that the killing of this man

was the only thing that prevented a general insurrection of the negroes,

for some of the farmers of the neighborhood said that they noticed an

unusual excitement among the slaves on the Sunday before the raid. If it

is true that the negroes knew anything of the intended attack, it is

probable that they were deterred from taking a part in it by seeing one

of their own race the first person sacrificed.

Thomas Boerly, the second man killed, was a native of the County of

Roscommon, in Ireland. As before noticed, he was a man of great physical

strength and he was noted for courage. He measured about six feet in

height and weighed about two hundred pounds. He was a blunt,

straight-forward man in his dealing and he was very popular on account

of his love for fun and from that unreasonable tendency of human nature

to pay respect to the purely accidental quality of personal prowess.

Many years before he encountered at fisticuffs an equally powerful man

named Joseph Graff, who, at that time, resided at Harper's Ferry. The

fight was conducted in the old border style of "rough and tumble,"

including biting and gouging. Night alone terminated the encounter and

the combatants parted with their mutual respect greatly augmented and

with a great accession of glory to both. The admirers of each party

claimed a victory for their champion, but the principals themselves

wisely divided the laurels and never again jeopardized their reputation

by renewing the contest. Mr. Boerly's age was about forty-three years.

He was married and he left three children. His youngest child, Thomas,

junior, still resides at Harper's Ferry and is quite a prominent

citizen. He has inherited the great bodily powers and the many genial

characteristics of his father. The State of Virginia granted a small

pension to the widow but, the war breaking out shortly afterwards, she

received no benefit from the annuity until at the restoration of peace,

her claim was brought to the notice of the state authorities. From that

time, until her death a few years ago, she was paid punctually. Mr.

Boerly kept a grocery store and was in very comfortable circumstances.

Thomas Boerly, junior, was the mayor of Harper's Ferry who arrested and

brought to justice Erwin Ford, the brutal murderer of Elsie Kreglow, of

the District of Columbia, in 1896.

George Turner, the third man killed (of the citizens) was a very fine

looking man, aged about forty years. It is said that he was educated at

West Point and that he was distinguished for great polish and refinement

of manners. He was unmarried and he left a good deal of property. He was

a native of Jefferson county, Virginia--now West Virginia.

Fountain Beckham, the fourth and last of the citizen's party killed, was

like the others, a tall, powerfully built man. His age was about sixty

years. He was a native of Culpeper county, Virginia, and a brother of

Armistead Beckham, heretofore mentioned as master-armorer. As before

stated, he had been for many years a magistrate of the County of

Jefferson and the agent of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company at

Harper's Ferry. At the time of his death he was mayor of the town. He

was a widower and two sons and a daughter survived him. Mr. Beckham was

in many respects a remarkable man. It was said that he was the best

magistrate that Jefferson county ever had, his decisions being always

given with a view rather to the justice than to the law of the cases

and, in many instances, being marked with great shrewdness and soundness

of judgment. On the other hand he was sometimes very whimsical, and some

amusing scenes used to be enacted between him and "Haywood"--his

factotum. Frequently, the squire would give unreasonable or

contradictory orders to his servant who never hesitated on such

occasions to refuse obedience, and it was no uncommon thing to see

Haywood starting out from the railroad office with a bundle on his back

en route for Winchester, and swearing that he would not serve the squire

another day for any consideration. He never proceeded very far, however,

before he was over-taken by a message from his master conveying

proposals for peace and Haywood never failed to return. Notwithstanding

their frequent rows, a strong attachment existed between these two men

through life; and in death they were not parted. Mr. Beckham was very

respectably connected. His sister was the wife of Mr. Stubblefield, so

long superintendent of the armory, and his niece, Miss Stubblefield, was

married to Andrew Hunter, of Charlestown, one of the most eminent

lawyers of Virginia. Mr. Beckham's wife was the daughter of Colonel

Stevenson, of Harper's Ferry, and, thus, it will be seen that he was

connected with many of the most influential families of the Northern

Neck. Mr. Beckham's death was mourned as a public loss for, with many

oddities of manner, he had all the qualities that go to make a lovable

man and a good citizen.

The nine citizens who were confined as hostages in the engine house were

as follows: Colonel Lewis W. Washington and John Alstadt, planters; John

E. P. Dangerfield, paymaster's clerk; Armistead M. Ball,

master-machinist; Benjamin Mills, master-armorer; John Donohoo,

assistant agent of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad at Harper's Ferry;

Terence O'Byrne, a farmer residing in Washington county, Maryland;

Israel Russell, a merchant of Harper's Ferry, and a Mr. Schoppe, of

Frederick City, Maryland, who happened to be on a business visit that

day at the scene of the trouble.

[Illustration: JEFFERSON'S ROCK]

Colonel Lewis W. Washington was at the time a very fine looking man of

about fifty years of age, with that unmistakable air that always

accompanies a man of true patrician birth and education. He was the soul

of hospitality and Cook used to visit him at his home for the

ostensible purpose of contending with him in pistol shooting, an art in

which both were famous adepts. On these occasions Colonel Washington

used to exhibit the sword and some other relics of his great namesake

and grand-uncle, and, thus it was that Cook and his companions in the

conspiracy gained so intimate a knowledge of Colonel Washington's

household arrangements and were enabled to find at once the place in

which the relics were stored and to capture the owner without

difficulty. Cook was entertained hospitably whenever he visited the

generous Virginian, and the ingratitude manifested towards Colonel

Washington was, perhaps, the worst feature of the whole transaction, and

it is not to be excused for the moral effect that the capture might be

expected to secure. The grand-nephew of the founder of our nation, it is

said, exhibited on this occasion a great deal of the dignity and

calmness which characterized his illustrious kinsman and his fellow

captives used to speak of his great coolness under the trying

circumstances of his situation.

Colonel Washington, in his testimony before the select committee of the

United States Senate, appointed to inquire into the outrage, gave a

graphic description of his capture by the party. He described them as

having consisted of Stevens, Tydd, Taylor and the negro, Shields Greene.

Another, named Merriam, was supposed to be about the premises, but he

was not seen by Colonel Washington. In his recital no mention is made of

Cook's presence at the capture, but it was ascertained afterwards that

though he was not there in person, the captors had got from him all

necessary information and that they acted under his instructions. It may

be remarked that Merriam, although he is known to have been connected

with the enterprise, was not seen in the skirmish at Harper's Ferry, and

what became of him afterwards is unknown to the writer. It was

understood that he was an Englishman by birth and that, in early life,

he was a protege of Lady Byron, widow of the celebrated poet. Colonel

Washington was one of those who disagreed with the author as to the

identity of Stuart Taylor. In the writer's opinion Anderson and not

Taylor accompanied the party to make the seizure. The colonel had

several narrow escapes from death while in the hands of "the

Philistines." About the time when Mr. Beckham was killed, Brown was

sitting on the fire engine near the engine house door, rifle in hand,

apparently watching an opportunity to make a good shot. Colonel

Washington noticed him fingering his gun abstractedly, and like a person

touching the strings of a violin and, being somewhat struck with the

oddity of the idea, he approached Brown, for the purpose of inquiring if

he had learned to play the fiddle. It is easy to imagine the answer the

stern, old Puritan would have returned, had there been time enough to

propound the question. As Colonel Washington came near Brown, a bullet

from the outside whistled immediately over the head of the latter,

penetrated the handle of an axe that was suspended on the engine and

passed through Colonel Washington's beard, striking the wall near him

and sprinkling brick dust all over him. Brown coolly remarked, "that was

near," and Colonel Washington postponed his inquiry, thereby consigning

posterity to ignorance on the momentous question as to whether John

Brown played the fiddle or not. The colonel deeming it prudent to leave

that neighborhood, moved a little to one side, when he entered into

conversation with Mr. Mills, another of the prisoners. Their faces were

not four inches apart, yet through this narrow passage, another bullet

sped and the friends finding one place as safe as another continued

their conversation.

Colonel Washington at that time owned a dog of very eccentric appearance

and habits and apparently of a most unamiable disposition. His name was

"Bob" and he was of the common bull species. With other peculiarities,

he was remarkable for having been born without a tail. Nature, however,

with that tendency to compensation which our common Mother exhibits in

awarding gifts to her children, gave him more than an equivalent for the

caudal deficiency by providing him with an extra allowance of brains. He

made it a point to visit several times every day the laborers on the

plantation and, if there were more than one party of them, he would

inspect each in turn, and eye the negroes suspiciously, after which he

would return to his bed which was in front of the main entrance to the

house. He never made free with any person, not even with his master, who

tried frequently, but in vain, to induce his surly dependant to follow

him 'round the farm. His morose disposition and the jealous eye with

which he always regarded the negroes gave rise to superstitious dread of

the animal among the servants and a belief that in him was the soul of

some defunct plantation overseer who, with the ruling passion strong

=after= death, continued to exercise his favorite avocation. Pythagoras

himself would, no doubt, have agreed with the negroes, had he known

"Bob" and his peculiarities, and it may be supposed that the philosopher

would have pointed triumphantly to this overwhelming proof of the

Metempsychosis. On the night of Colonel Washington's capture, however,

Bob's whole nature appeared to undergo a change. He accompanied his

master to Harper's Ferry, stuck by him all day on Monday and, when

Colonel Washington was confined in the engine house as a hostage, his

faithful though hitherto undemonstrative dog followed him into close

captivity. Brown and his men tried to eject him and even his master

endeavored to induce him to go out, but in vain. When Colonel Washington

was released, he lost him in the dense crowd, but, on reaching home on

Tuesday night, he found the metamorphosed overseer waiting for him at

the gate and exhibiting signs of the most extravagant joy at his return.

After this, the dog was regarded with more favor and many of the negroes

from that time rejected the former theory of transmigration as a slander

on the faithful animal. Many years ago, at a ripe canine age, poor Bob

was gathered to his fathers, and he sleeps in an honored grave in the

plantation garden, but, as slavery has been abolished in the United

States and bids fairly to disappear from the whole earth, it might

puzzle even Pythagoras himself to find a suitable tenement for the now

unhappy shade of the overseer. Colonel Washington died at his residence

near Harper's Ferry October 1st, 1871, much regretted by all who had the

pleasure of his acquaintance.

Mr. Alstadt was a gentleman then about sixty years of age, of very

unassuming manners and amiable disposition. He, too, was examined before

the Senate committee and gave a lively picture of his adventures while a

prisoner. His son, Thomas, then a little boy, was taken prisoner with

his father or voluntarily accompanied the party to Harper's Ferry to

watch for the old gentleman's safety. Mr. Alstadt, senior, has been dead

for some years, but Thomas yet survives, now a well-matured man, and he

is probably the only one of the prisoners who were confined in the

engine house who survives, with the possible exception of Messrs. Mills

and Schoppe, of whom nothing has been heard at Harper's Ferry for the

last forty years.

John E. P. Dangerfield was then a man of about forty years of age and of

a very delicate constitution. He bore up very well, however, and when he

was released by the marines his physical strength had not given way, as

his friends feared it would. At the breaking out of the war he moved to

North Carolina and there he died suddenly a few years ago while on a

hunt in the woods. It is supposed that his death was caused by too

severe exertion while he was prosecuting a favorite sport.

Armistead M. Ball was at that time a man of about forty-six years of

age. He was very corpulent but, notwithstanding his great bulk, his

health was delicate. He died in June, 1861, of apoplexy. As before said,

he was a man of great mechanical ingenuity. He invented a rifling

machine which was used for several years in the armory, and was regarded

as an excellent piece of mechanism. Many people, however, believed that

Mr. Ball owed much of his reputation to ideas borrowed from a man named

John Wernwag who, at that time and for many years before and afterwards,

lived at Harper's Ferry and whose name will hereafter appear in this

history in connection with a thrilling adventure in the great flood of

1870. Mr. Wernwag was, confessedly, a great genius in mechanics, but,

as he was a man of very retiring habits and taciturn disposition, he

never made any show of his ability and, consequently, only a few were

aware of the wealth of mechanical genius that was possessed by this

unassuming man, but was lost to the world through his unfortunate

bashfulness. He and Mr. Ball used to take long and frequent rambles over

the neighboring heights, and it was supposed that in their conversation

on those excursions the latter got many hints which he improved and

practically elucidated in his mechanical devices.

Benjamin Mills was a man of about fifty years of age at the time of the

Brown raid, low in stature but muscular and active. As before stated, he

soon after returned to Harrodsburg, Kentucky, from which place he had

come to Harper's Ferry. The writer knows not whether he yet survives or

not.

John Donohoo was at the time quite a good looking young man of about

thirty-five years of age. He was a native of Ireland, but a resident of

this country from his childhood. For many years his home was at Harper's

Ferry, where he was highly respected for his integrity and business

qualifications. His life was one of many vicissitudes and he died in the

spring of 1892 at Hagerstown, Maryland.

Terence O'Byrne was at the time of the raid about forty-eight years of

age. He was, as far as is known here, the last survivor of the hostages,

except young Alstadt. As his name indicates, he was of Irish extraction.

He was in comfortable circumstances and resided near the Kennedy farm

where, unfortunately for him, he became well known to Brown and his men.

Mr. O'Byrne was examined before the Senate committee and testified that

the party who captured him was composed of Cook, Tydd and Lehman. They

visited his house early on Monday morning and conducted him a prisoner

to Harper's Ferry. Mr. O'Byrne died about the year 1898.

Israel Russell was then about fifty years of age. He was for many years

a magistrate of Jefferson county, and was very much respected. He died a

few years ago from a disease of the jaw, caused by the extraction of a

defective tooth. It is strange that men will often escape unhurt from

the most appalling dangers to succumb to apparently trivial ailments or

casualties.

Of Mr. Schoppe little is known at Harper's Ferry. As before stated, he

was a resident of Frederick City, Maryland, and his connection with the

raid was due entirely to his accidental presence at the scene of

disturbance on the memorable 17th of October.

Of the Grand Jury that indicted Brown and the Petit Jury that tried and

condemned him there is but one survivor, as far as the writer knows, Mr.

Martin, now of Virginia. Judge Parker, who presided at the trial, and

the lawyers--Hunter and Harding--who prosecuted, have all "crossed the

bar" as have, probably, the strangers who defended. The

sheriff--Cambell--who officiated at the execution, and all his deputies,

have passed away. Lee and Stuart are dead, and it is believed that of

all who figured prominently in this remarkable tragedy the juror above

referred to is the only survivor, with the exceptions before named and

possibly that of Lieutenant Greene of the marines; but John Brown's fame

is on the increase and time enhances it, call him what you will. It is

remarkable that the gentlemen who were Brown's prisoners displayed

little or no vindictiveness towards the man who had subjected them to so

much danger. The writer frequently noticed in conversation with them

that they invariably dwelt on his extraordinary courage and that the

animosity, which it was natural they should feel on account of his

treatment of them, was lost in their admiration for his daring, though

misguided bravery. Mr. Donohoo visited him in prison and, very much to

his credit, exhibited towards his fallen foe a generosity characteristic

of the man himself and the gallant nation of his birth.

The story of the Brown raid should not close without notice of another

party who figured rather curiously in that memorable transaction. At

that time there lived at Harper's Ferry a half-witted fellow, named John

Malloy, who managed to gain a precarious living by getting scraps of

broken bread and meat from the kitchens of the people, in return for

services rendered in carrying water from the town pump and the river. He

was never known to sleep in a house--a door step answering all the

purposes of a bed, and a store box being regarded by him as a positive

luxury. When drunk--which was as often as he could get whiskey

enough--he had a particular fancy for a sleep on the railroad track and,

in consequence, he was run over several times by the trains, but it

appeared as if nothing could kill him. On one occasion the point of a

"cow catcher" entered his neck and he was pushed by the engine a

considerable distance. Even this did not terminate his charmed life, but

several ugly scars remained as mementos of the adventure. Like others,

he was taken prisoner by Brown and confined in the armory yard. About 3

o'clock in the afternoon of Monday when the alarm had spread a long way

and people had crowded in from the surrounding country, armed with every

species of weapon they could lay hands on, John managed to escape by

climbing the armory wall. When he was seen getting over, the country

people to whom he was unknown supposed that he was one of Brown's men,

and score of them blazed away at him with their guns. A shower of

bullets whistled 'round him and his clothes, never in the best of

repair, were almost shot off his body. No less than twenty balls

perforated his coat, but, strange to say, he escaped without a scratch

and succeeded in regaining his liberty. When, after the raid, strangers

visited the scene, John always made it a point to be about, exhibiting

the scars which he had received from the cowcatcher and attributing them

to wounds inflicted by Brown's party. Many a dollar did John receive on

the strength of those scars and, no doubt, he has figured in many a

tourist's book as a hero and a martyr to the cause of the "Divine

Institution." His escape from the bullets of his neighbors was certainly

remarkable, and it goes to prove the truth of the old proverb: "A fool

for luck, &c." Notwithstanding his many close calls and his persistent

good fortune, poor John finally succumbed to a combined assault of

smallpox and bad whiskey. He was attacked by the former disease in the

war--the other he was never without and in a delirium, he wandered away

and was found dead in a fence corner.

The foregoing is a succinct account of the so-called "Brown Raid," an

invasion which may be considered as the commencement of our unhappy

civil war. Of course, it created intense excitement all over the land

and the feeling aroused had not subsided when the election of Mr.

Lincoln in November, 1860, renewed the quarrel on a greater scale. As

before noticed, a select committee of the United States Senate was

appointed to investigate the occurrence, and the following gentlemen

testified before it: John Alstadt, A. M. Ball, George W. Chambers, Lynd

F. Currie, Andrew Hunter, A. M. Kitzmiller, Dr. John D. Starry, John C.

Unseld, Lewis W. Washington and Daniel Whelan, all of Harper's Ferry or

its neighborhood. Many gentlemen from the northern and western states,

also, who were supposed to be sympathizers with Brown were called on to

give testimony. Prominent among these were John A. Andrews, a lawyer of

Boston, afterwards governor of Massachusetts, and Joshua R. Giddings, a

leading anti-slavery man of Ohio and for many years a member of Congress

from that state. Nothing, however, was elicited to prove that any

considerable number of the people of the Free States knew of the

contemplated invasion and unprejudiced minds were convinced that the

knowledge of it was confined mostly to John Brown and the party that

accompanied him on the expedition.

Thus Harper's Ferry enjoys the distinction of having been the scene of

the first act in our fearful drama of civil war, and as will be seen

hereafter, it was the theatre of many another part of the awful

tragedy.