AFTER THE WAR.
In 1862 Mr. Daniel J. Young, formerly master machinist at the rifle
factory, was sent from Washington City to take charge of the ordnance at
Harper's Ferry, as also, of all the government property at that place.
He was the same who, on the morning of the Brown Raid, ventured to
remonstrate with and warn the invaders. We have already given an account
of his services to the government and his promotion to the rank of
captain in the regular army, and how he was retained at Harper's Ferry
from the time of his appointment in 1862 until the end of the war, and
still farther, until 1869, when the government interests at the place
were disposed of at public sale. In the meantime, he was made defendant
in a suit against the government for possession of the most important
part of the armory grounds--the plaintiff being Mr. Jacob Brown, of
Charlestown, West Virginia, who had a long-standing claim for said
property, arising from alleged irregularities in the original purchase.
The case was decided in Parkersburg, West Virginia, in August, 1869,
Chief Justice Chase presiding at the trial. The verdict was in favor of
Captain Young and the government. Some years before Mr. Brown had
another suit with the government for another piece of property. This
first trial took place in the United States Courts, at Staunton,
Virginia, and the result was adverse to Mr. Brown's claim.
During the winter of 1868-69 a bill was introduced into Congress and
passed, providing for the sale of the government property at Harper's
Ferry. On the 30th of November and the 1st of December, 1869, therefore,
it was put up at public auction, and the armory grounds and the site of
the rifle factory were purchased by Captain F. C. Adams, of Washington,
D. C., for the sum of two hundred and six thousand dollars, with one and
two years time for the payment. Most of the houses and lots belonging
to the government in other parts of the town were disposed of to
citizens on terms similar as to time, and very high prices were offered.
Captain Adams represented, as he said, some northern capitalists, and
great hopes were entertained for the revival of manufactures at the
place and the renewal of the old-time prosperity.
Notwithstanding the great depression of the times--since the war--as
far, at least, as Harper's Ferry is concerned--a good deal of enterprise
has been exhibited by many of the old citizens of the place. In July,
1867, Mr. A. H. Herr, an extensive manufacturer and the owner of the
Island of Virginius, of whom mention has been made in this book several
times heretofore, sold his interest at Harper's Ferry to the firm of
Child & McCreight, of Springfield, Ohio,--both now deceased. This
property is romantically situated on the Shenandoah which bounds it on
the south. On the north and east it is bounded by the canal, constructed
to facilitate the navigation of the Shenandoah, and on the west by a
waste way of the canal communicating with the river. The island contains
thirteen acres on which were, before the war, twenty-eight neat
dwellings, one flour mill, one cotton factory, one carriage factory, one
saw mill, a machine shop and a foundry. It will be remembered that in
1861, shortly after the skirmish at Bolivar, a party of confederates
visited the town and destroyed the flour mill. From that time there was
no business conducted on the island until the sale of that property to
the above mentioned firm. These gentlemen, having availed themselves of
the talents of Mr. William F. Cochran, then so well known for his
thorough knowledge--theoretical and practical--of machinery, immediately
commenced fitting up the cotton factory for a flour mill. A large force
of men was kept in employment for fifteen months, preparing the building
and putting up the machinery, under the direction of Mr. Cochran. The
works were of the most approved description, set in motion by four
turbine wheels, the power being that of three hundred horses. There were
ten run of buhrs, which turned out five hundred barrels of flour daily
and, in the whole, it was said by adepts in that business, to be a
marvel of ingenuity, which greatly added to the previous and
well-established fame of Mr. Cochran. That gentleman, after varied
fortunes and many vicissitudes, lost his life in a railroad accident in
Michigan, in January, 1889. He was a native of Scotland and he served
some years in the British navy. Messrs. Child & McCreight, the new
proprietors of this desirable property, soon won for themselves golden
opinions among the people of the place for their courteous demeanor, and
the success which at first attended them, gave unalloyed pleasure to all
with whom they came in contact. They associated with them as a partner,
Mr. Solomon V. Yantis, an old resident and long a merchant of Harper's
Ferry, where his character was of the very best as a business man and a
good citizen generally. Of the twenty-eight dwellings on the island
nearly all were put in repair and the work performed on them, as well as
on the new flour mill, gave employment to many who otherwise must have
suffered from extreme destitution. Many other improvements have been
made in the town since the close of the war and the traces of that
fearful struggle were gradually disappearing when the calamity of the
great flood of 1870 befell the place and, not only retarded its
recovery, but left a part of it in far worse condition than it was at
any time in its history. The Presbyterian church had been put, during
the rebellion, to the most ignoble uses, the upper part being used for a
guard house and the basement for a horse stable. The venerable Dr.
Dutton, a gentleman of great piety and deserved popularity, took charge
of the congregation soon after war, and by great exertions succeeded in
restoring the building to its pristine, neat appearance. Dr. Dutton died
some years ago and his death was a severe loss, not only to his own
flock, but to the general society of the town and neighborhood.
The Catholic church, also, was repaired through the energy of the
Reverend J. J. Kain, a young priest of great promise, who has since
risen to the dignity of Archbishop. He established a school, or rather
revived one organized in 1854, but, of course, broken up by the war.
This school, under several teachers, was singularly successful, and
many men now eminent in various professions confess their great
obligations to this remote and humble seat of learning. Through the
exertions of Father Kain, a fine bell was purchased and suspended in the
church steeple and at morning, noon and vesper hour, its musical notes
sound with a sweet solemnity through the romantic glens of the Blue
Ridge, admonishing all who hear them to pause and worship the great
architect of the stupendous scenery around them. It may be remarked
that, of all the churches in Harper's Ferry proper, this one alone
escaped destruction or desecration during the war--an exemption due to
the courage of the late Reverend Dr. Costello, who was at the time
pastor and who, alone, of all the ministers of the place, remained to
defend church property. It was said that on one occasion it was proposed
by some union soldiers of intolerant opinions to burn down this
building, but that the project was abandoned on account of the proximity
of some regiments with views friendly to that church who, it was
believed, would resent any injury or indignity done to it. It may be
that there never was any intention of attacking it, and that the rumor
originated from the unmeaning threats of some drunken brawler. Anyway,
there never was the least injury done to it by either party, except that
its roof and walls were indented in many places by stray bullets. As
before stated, this church has been torn down and a new one erected on
its site. The Methodist Episcopal denomination at the place lost their
church in Harper's Ferry proper, and there is not a single trace of it
remaining, but as there was another church belonging to the same
denomination in Bolivar which had escaped destruction in the war, did
not deem it necessary to rebuild at Harper's Ferry. The two
congregations have united to worship at the Bolivar church.
The Lutheran church at the place was used for hospital purposes in the
war. At the restoration of peace the building was renovated and it now
presents a very neat appearance.
About the time of the termination of the civil war a gentleman named
Storer, residing in some part of New England, made a bequest of a large
sum of money for the endowment of a college for the education of the
freedmen. Harper's Ferry was chosen as the site and a charter was
obtained from the legislature of the new state of West Virginia for it,
under the title of "Storer College." The board of trustees appointed by
the testator were all of the Free-will Baptist persuasion in compliment
to the marked dislike manifested to slavery by that communion before and
in the course of the war. The Reverend N. C. Brackett, a minister of
that denomination was sent to take charge of the institution, and the
success which he has met in conducting the difficult duties of his
office, fully justifies the choice. The farm of Mr. William Smallwood in
Bolivar was purchased by the board for the location of the college, but,
the government having donated to the institution four large houses on
Camp Hill with lots attached, one of those buildings--the
superintendent's house--with a large frame structure erected soon after,
is used for college exercises. The principal, Mr. Brackett, is an
accomplished scholar, a gentleman in every sense and a practical
Christian. He is, moreover, a man of great firmness and this, coupled
with his suavity and well known integrity, insured a triumph over the
prejudice against the school, which it cannot be denied, existed and
still exists through the neighborhood.
Messrs. Matthew Quinn and J. M. Decaulne--both now long deceased--Daniel
Ames, who died recently, and James Conway erected four fine houses after
the war--the last named after the government sale. The lower floors of
these buildings are occupied as store rooms and the upper as dwellings.
Mr. Murtha Walsh, who, too, is now dead, erected a similar house on the
site of the old and well known Doran store and, later, a fine dwelling
and store adjoining Mr. Conway's house. A frame building put up about
the close of the war, adjoining the old Doran property, supplied for
many years the place of Fouke's hotel, destroyed by federal troops in
1862. The building last mentioned was pulled down a few years ago to
make way for a railway depot not, however, before the erection of a new
hotel near the opposite corner by Mr. George W. Greene, who soon after
sold out to the Conner Brothers, from whom it now takes its name of
"Hotel Conner." Mr. Theodore Conner now conducts it. Messrs. Thomas N.
Beal, James McGraw, John Fitzpatrick, George Breedy, Edward Colgate,
William Luke and many others have built new houses or renovated old
ones. The author of these pages, too, has contrived to scrape together
enough to invest in a new cottage, and he will say for his house that,
if it has no other merit, it commands a view unsurpassed anywhere for
beauty or sublimity. Tourists who admire its situation have christened
it "Sunset Cottage" on account of the magnificent spectacle to be seen
from it, when the Day God descends to rest, but the owner, while fully
appreciating the poetic name which enthusiastic travelers have given to
his modest home, prefers in the interest of truth, as well as of poetry,
to name it "Moonshine Cottage," and the reasons are as follows:
Heretofore, he has recommended to his readers who may be desirous to get
the best view of Harper's Ferry, to choose a moonlight night and the
cemetery, for the time and place to enjoy the sight. Like Melrose Abbey,
it does better in "the pale moonbeams" than in the garish light of day,
and, next to the cemetery, the author's new cottage is the best
standpoint from which to survey the moonlit scenery of the place. Again,
the house itself, though substantial enough, may be said, in one sense
at least, to be composed of moonshine, when the methods whereby the
owner acquired the means to erect it are considered. His youth and early
manhood were spent in hard toil, much to the benefit of his fellow men,
but not a bit to his own. At the age of nearly half a century he found
himself as poor as when he began life, although, as before said, his
labors had helped materially to enrich others. At length he made the
discovery, which he ought to have made thirty years before, that mankind
love nothing so well as being humbugged, and the happy thought struck
him that a history of Harper's Ferry would tickle the fancy of the
traveling public and, sure enough, the idea proved to be an inspiration.
This is the third edition of a nonsensical rigmarole that has no merit
in the world, except absolute truth, which is something in its favor,
and the happy result that its author, from the proceeds of the sale, was
enabled to build "Sunset" or "Moonshine Cottage"--call it as you
will--for either name is logical and appropriate enough.
From the foregoing pages it will be seen that Nature has done much for
Harper's Ferry and that industry and art improved its natural
advantages, until the frenzy of war was permitted to mar the beneficent
designs of Providence, and the labors of three-quarters of a century. It
will soon appear as if Heaven, in its anger at the folly and ingratitude
of man, had marked the place for total destruction when, in addition to
the ravages of war, the power of the elements was invoked to overwhelm
the town, as will be seen in the following account of the great flood of
1870:
In closing the eventful history of Harper's Ferry we must not omit the
greatest, perhaps, of the series of calamities which, commencing on the
day of John Brown's raid, culminated in the destruction of the most
flourishing part of the town by a great flood in the Shenandoah on
Friday, September 30th, and Saturday, October 1st, 1870. On the Tuesday
before the inundation it rained heavily at intervals, as also, on
Wednesday, Thursday and the morning of Friday. No extraordinary rise of
either river was anticipated, however, as from the long drought of the
previous months, the streams were greatly reduced and the most that was
anticipated was a moderate increase in the volume of water, such as is
usual in equinoctial storms. On Friday morning, however, many persons
noticed the rapidity with which the Shenandoah rose, and something in
the fierce dash of its tawny waves against the rocks near its mouth
attracted unusual attention. All that day this river rose very fast, and
about 4 o'clock, p.m., its banks were crowded with people watching the
furious rush of the water and the drift which, in great quantities and
of a miscellaneous character, was tossed on its angry waves. About this
time a vague rumor was circulated that a telegraphic dispatch had
arrived from Front Royal, about fifty miles farther up the
Shenandoah--on the south fork--stating that a water spout had burst on
the Blue Ridge at a point still farther up the valley, that a deluge was
pouring down and that the people of Harper's Ferry, especially, were in
imminent peril. While people were yet speculating on the probability of
the truth of this report and, before the lapse of half an hour from the
time of the arrival of the dispatch, several citizens came rushing from
the Island of Virginius, who stated that they had had just time enough
to escape to the main land before bridges connecting it with the island
were swept away, and that many people were left behind whose houses were
already partially submerged. Even then, few people in the lower part of
the town could realize this state of affairs, but before many minutes a
column of water rushed along the streets and around the houses, which
immediately convinced everyone that saw it of the dreadful truth. Of
this body of water marvelous accounts are given. It is said that it rose
at the rate of six feet in four minutes and, although it is probable
that the terrors of the people exaggerated the swell of the waters, the
fact that this extraordinary tale was readily believed will give an idea
of the reality. Up to 8 o'clock, p.m., however, it was hoped that all
who had not escaped from their houses on Virginius and Overton's islands
and on Shenandoah street would be safe, and that the inconvenience of
being separated from their friends for a few hours and that of cleaning
up for some days after, would be the extent of the damage. Between 8 and
9 o'clock, however, the water had risen to such a height as to cause
serious apprehension for the safety of the families so cut off, and the
extraordinary rapidity and fury of the river made it impossible for
their more fortunate friends to render them the smallest assistance.
About this time an excited crowd had gathered at the foot of Union
street, watching with intense anxiety for the fate of some families on
Overton's island, directly opposite, and about sixty yards distant.
Between them and the island rushed an impetuous torrent to attempt to
cross which, in a boat, would be madness and the distance was too great
to allow a rope of sufficient strength to be thrown to the assistance of
the helpless people. The scene was truly terrible. The screams of men,
women and children in imminent peril of drowning or being crushed by
falling houses, and the sympathetic cries and sobs of the pitying
spectators were partially lost in the thunders of the furious tide and
the spectral light of a young moon wading through heavy masses of cloud
gave a weird coloring to the fearful picture, which added greatly to its
horrors. Five families resided on this island. One house, a large brick
building, was rented and occupied by Mr. Sidney Murphy. A small frame
tenement was occupied by the widow Overton, her daughter, the widow
Mills--and a young child of the latter. Samuel Hoff and his wife lived
in a third house, James Shipe and his wife in a fourth and Jerry Harris,
a very worthy old colored man, with his wife, daughter and two
grandchildren, in a fifth. Mr. Murphy and his family, as well as Mrs.
Hoff, had fortunately taken alarm at an early hour in the evening and
escaped a few minutes before the destruction of the footbridge on which
they had passed over. This being light and not firmly secured to the
bank on either side, was soon swept away by the rising waters. The other
residents, thinking, no doubt, that, as their houses had stood many
assaults from the river in former floods, they might venture to remain,
unhappily concluded to take chances. About 9 o'clock a crash from a
falling house was heard and piteous appeals from a drowning man for aid
rose above the noise of the waters and were conveyed to the ears of the
spectators on the main land. It appeared as if he had been washed from
the falling house and had drifted to a tree some yards below, to which
he was clinging with the proverbial tenacity of a drowning man's grip.
This was supposed to be Samuel Hoff. James Shipe, who escaped almost
miraculously, afterwards explained the situation, and the surmises of
the people proved to be correct, as it was Hoff who, carried from his
own door by the current, grasped a small tree and appealed for
assistance. Of course, no aid could be given to him, and the poor
fellow's voice was soon hushed in death. Shipe said that his own house
was the first to give way and that before its collapse he stripped and
prepared for swimming. He then put an arm 'round his wife and as the
house fell in he jumped with her into the river. Opposite to his house
was a water station of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company, and as
this was the most substantial building near him, he swam towards it and
endeavored to clutch the wall with one hand while the other was
supporting his wife. Several times he caught some projection of the
building, but as often was beaten off by the powerful waves that surged
around it. At length, his wife requested of him to let her go and to
save himself, saying that she was prepared to die, but that he was not.
He would not consent, but a large and furious wave soon decided the
loving controversy by lifting them up and dashing them against
something, thereby loosening his hold on her, when she immediately sank
and disappeared forever from his view. A covered bridge of the railroad
which had been washed away a few minutes before and had lodged on some
obstruction, now presented itself to him and held out some hope of
safety. He was drifting rapidly and although the water was cold, he had
not much difficulty in reaching the bridge. When he gained it, however,
he found the water so rapid that it was impossible for him to retain any
hold on the sides. He tried to get on top of the roof, but he was caught
in the current which rushed through the bridge and which he was unable
to resist. Onward, he was hurried and in his passage he was dreadfully
lacerated by nails and salient angles of the timbers, besides being
stunned and confused to such a degree that he could not get a hold on
the wreck, but drifted below it. Of course, there was no hope of
returning against the tide, and he swam for the lower island. Here he
succeeded in clutching a tree that grew near the house of a man named
Hood. He succeeded in climbing into the forks of the tree and, for the
first time since his immersion, a strong ray of hope was presented to
him. The house was not many feet from the tree and he succeeded in
jumping to a window. He found no one in the house, the family having
abandoned it early in the evening. The water had reached the second
story and the house was tottering. Fearing that he would be crushed by
the falling building he returned to the tree just as the house gave way
and fell into the seething flood. He then swam to another house in which
he found a pair of pantaloons--the only article of clothing he had to
protect him from the cold, which he now felt benumbing. He was rescued
late on Saturday evening, when the water had partially subsided, and it
will be readily believed that by this time his condition was pitiable.
This is his account and, certainly, at least, a =part= of it is true, as
his story is corroborated in many particulars by the testimony of others
who saw him at various stages of his strange adventure. After the
disappearance of Hoff great excitement was noticed in the houses of Mrs.
Overton and Mr. Murphy, into the latter of which it appears that Jerry
Harris and his family had rushed from their own as to a place of greater
safety. Lights were seen carried rapidly from place to place at Mrs.
Overton's, and, from Mr. Murphy's the sound of Harris' voice was heard
apparently in earnest appeal to Heaven for assistance. A light was seen
for an instant on Mrs. Overton's porch, and, but for an instant, when it
disappeared and the porch was seen to drift with the current. It is
supposed that either Mrs. Overton or Mrs. Mills had taken the light to
see how the water stood around the house, and that just as she stepped
on the porch it was torn loose and she was overturned into the water.
Thus was the sudden disappearance of the light accounted for by the
spectators. In a minute or two the building was heard to fall with a
crash and none of the occupants was seen again or, if the bodies were
found, it was by strangers on the lower Potomac, who knew not whose
remains they were. In a short time Murphy's house also disappeared and
with it Harris and his family, making a total of ten deaths in this one
group of buildings.
In the meantime, the greatest consternation prevailed in the lower part
of the town. Many families that had remained in their houses on
Shenandoah street, expecting every moment the flood to attain its
greatest height and then subside as suddenly as it had risen, finding
that it increased with great rapidity and persistency, made efforts to
escape about 7 o'clock, p.m. A family named Kane living between the
Winchester and Potomac railroad and the Shenandoah river were rescued
with great difficulty by passing a basket to them on a rope thrown
across the abyss and transporting them, one by one, to dry land in this
novel aerial carriage. Charles King, at one time proprietor of the
Shenandoah House, a man of great physical strength and activity as well
as courage, directed the operations of the rescuing party and, in
several other instances, rendered valuable assistance in saving life and
property. The Widow Furtney and family, living at the upper end of
Shenandoah street, were rescued in the same manner as were the Kanes,
and, in the latter case, the Reverend Daniel Ames, another citizen,
exhibited a great deal of courage and tact.
Mr. William B. Fitzpatrick, supervisor of track on the Winchester and
Potomac railroad, while attending to his duties some hours before, near
Strasburg, Virginia, learned that the river was swelling to an unusual
height and, fearing for the safety of his family at Harper's Ferry, he
hastened home on his engine and had just crossed the bridges on the
islands when they were swept away. As the engine proceeded along the
trestling through Harper's Ferry, the track swayed in such a manner that
it was with the utmost difficulty the engineer could direct his course
and, just as they left the trestling and landed on terra firma at the
market house, the uprights that supported the track above the solid
ground gave way before the force of the waters, and at the same time,
the houses from which the Kane and Furtney families had been saved, as
well as others from which the inmates had fled or had been rescued, fell
with a horrible crash, and so completely were they demolished that in
some cases there was a doubt afterwards as to their exact site, the very
foundations having disappeared. Mr. Fitzpatrick found it impossible to
reach his family, but having climbed the hill on which the Catholic
church is built and descended it on the other side to the water's edge,
he stood opposite his house and called to his wife inquiring how it
fared with her and their children. She replied that the house was giving
way--that the walls were cracking and that she expected to be swept away
at any moment, but at the same time she appeared to be more concerned
for the safety of her aged and feeble mother, who was at the time lying
sick in bed in the house, than for her own. Mr. Fitzpatrick, who was a
man of the most acute sensibility, and who was thoroughly devoted to his
family, became completely frantic, offering all that he possessed to any
one who would venture to help him across the raging torrent to their
aid. The utmost sympathy was felt for him, but nothing could be done to
assist him in a rescue. The poor fellow sat all night on a rock opposite
his house and, between the paroxysms of his grief, sent words of
encouragement across to his dear ones. The behavior of Mrs. Fitzpatrick
under the circumstances was very remarkable. She evidenced the most
extraordinary coolness and courage and was heard to express her
willingness to abide by the decrees of Providence, manifesting a
composure in the face of death, which could arise only from a
consciousness of her having lived a good life and from a well founded
hope of happiness hereafter.
Interminable appeared that autumn night to the anxious watchers in the
town and few, even of those who had nothing at stake, thought of sleep.
At length the dawn appeared and, from marks left by the water it was
seen that the river had fallen a few inches. Joyful news this was to
all, but people of experience in such matters were far from being
relieved from all anxiety, as it is well known that the turn of a flood
is the most critical time for a building that has been exposed to the
action of the current. As soon as it was clear daylight the attention of
many people was directed to the house of Mr. Samuel Williams--the same
gentleman that was taken prisoner by John Brown's men at the rifle
factory--situated on the very bank of the river, near the ferry crossing
to Loudoun, in which it was known that not only the Williams family but
those of Messrs. John Greaves and James Anderson were imprisoned. The
last two resided in small buildings near the house of Mrs. Williams and
they and their families had barely time to escape to his more
substantial residence, when their own houses were swept away. As soon as
there was light enough the endangered people were seen crowding to the
windows and gesticulating wildly, but their voices were lost in the roar
of the rushing waters and the reason for their great excitement at this
particular time was not fully understood until they were rescued in the
afternoon, as will be narrated hereafter. At that moment nearly the
whole side of the house fronting the river fell in, and very naturally
caused the hapless prisoners to give up all hope. Of course, nothing
could be done for them then, as the water had fallen but a few inches,
and, as the other people in the town were not aware of the catastrophe
to the river side of the house, there was not as much anxiety felt for
them as their situation really demanded. Besides, two trees that grew
near the end of the house, looking up stream, had gathered a vast pile
of drift, and the sleepers and other timbers of the railroad that had
been wrecked on the previous evening, still connected by the rails, had
swung about and surrounded the house, collecting a great deal of
miscellaneous rubbish which broke the force of the current and
materially protected the building. Still great uneasiness was felt and
hundreds of eyes eagerly watched the watermark, but for many hours there
was but little fall and, indeed, it was 4 o'clock, p.m., on Saturday
before there was any marked diminution in the volume of water.
About 10 o'clock, a.m., on Saturday, the crowd of spectators that
covered the hill near Jefferson's Rock, heard a crash on Virginius
Island and soon it was known that the noise was caused by the falling in
of a portion of the building occupied by Mr. John Wernwag as a dwelling
and a machine shop. Mr. Wernwag was the same that has been noticed in
this book as a man of great mechanical genius, but very retiring habits.
He resided alone in this house and, surrounded by strange tools and
devices of his own planning and construction, and entirely devoted to
those creatures of his brain and hand, he lived in a world of his own,
voluntarily cut off from association with his kind. In a few minutes the
sound was repeated, when the remainder of the building crumbled and fell
into the tide. The roof floated down the stream, but at first nothing
was seen of Mr. Wernwag himself. Many a loud and earnest prayer was sent
to Heaven from the throng of spectators for the soul of the poor recluse
and the hoarse murmur of many voices in supplication, mingled with
hysterical screams from women and the more sensitive of the other sex,
the wild rush of the river and all the awful surrounding presented a
combination of horrors happily of rare occurrence. Two large trees grew
on the river bank about a hundred yards below the island, and, as the
roof floated down the stream, it fortunately dashed against one of them
and was broken in two. Through the space made between the portions of
the roof Wernwag's head was seen to emerge from the water and soon the
brave old man had succeeded in climbing nimbly to one of the pieces. He
had sunk under the roof and would have been suffocated in a few minutes
had not the tree broken the incubus that was preventing him from making
any exertion to save himself by swimming. As he secured his seat on the
fragment he was seen to motion with his hand as if bidding adieu to his
life-long friends. It is probable that he merely wiped his brow and put
back his dripping hair, but the belief got abroad that he motioned a
farewell and the excitement of the people was greatly intensified. Past
the town he was hurried by the remorseless flood, until he was lost to
sight amid the waves of "the Bull Ring," a rocky ledge that runs across
the Potomac a little below the mouth of the Shenandoah. Over this
barrier in time of high water, the waves of the united rivers plunge
with a fury equalled only by the ocean tides bursting on an iron-bound
coast, and the most sanguine of those who took heart on seeing Mr.
Wernwag emerge from under the incubus and climb to the fragment of roof,
now gave up all hope of him, but in an hour or two a report reached
Harper's Ferry that he had been rescued at Berlin--now Brunswick--about
six miles below. After a little more time the news was confirmed,
qualified, however, by the intelligence that he was likely to die from
the effects of the exposure. Shortly after, another rumor was spread
that he had died, but, about 8 o'clock, p.m., the old hero made his
appearance in the flesh, having been rescued, sure enough, and having
revived from a fainting fit into which he had dropped on being landed
from his perilous voyage. He had waited at Berlin for the passenger
train due at Harper's Ferry at the above hour, and having taken passage
on it he was restored to his anxious friends. He was received with the
greatest enthusiasm and conveyed by an exultant crowd to the residence
of his niece, Mrs. Julia Johnson. It was the seventy-sixth anniversary
of Mr. Wernwag's birthday and, taking into account his age, as well as
the circumstances of the adventure itself, it is one of the most
extraordinary instances on record of providential preservation from what
appeared to be inevitable destruction.
Soon after Mr. Wernwag's hasty passage down the river, a ludicrous
mistake was near causing trouble between some of his friends. At that
time there lived at Harper's Ferry two men of hasty tempers, but of
generous impulses--one an Englishman and the other an Irishman. They
were inseparable companions and proverbial for their attachment to one
another. Both were great admirers of Mr. Wernwag and with moist eyes
they both stood close together on the river bank, when their old friend
was swept off to his death, as all supposed. Mr. Wernwag had an only son
who was named Edward. The young man happened to be away from the place
at the time, which was a great aggravation of the calamity supposed to
have been consummated. The boy's acquaintances used to call him
"Wernwag's Ed." and this familiar appellation was the cause of a
misunderstanding, which was near ending in a fist-fight, between the
friends referred to. About the time when the old man reached the "Bull
Ring" the Englishman turned to his Irish friend and asked him where he
thought Wernwag's Hed could be found--of course meaning the boy. As
usual with his countrymen, he used the aspirate "=H=" before the vowel.
The Irishman understanding the inquiry to refer to the poor old
gentleman's cranium, and thinking that the question savored of untimely
levity, replied that he supposed it would be found with the rest of the
body, and he added some comments to show his opinion of his friend's
heartlessness. The Briton feeling innocent of any wrong, and being a man
of pluck, put in a sharp rejoinder which was met by another from the
peppery Irishman. The quarrel was intensified by the laughter of the
by-standers who took in the situation accurately. The interference of
friends alone prevented a set-to and the belligerents were alienated
from one another for many weeks after. The matter dropped when the
mistake was explained and they became fully reconciled.
About 4 o'clock, p.m., on Saturday, Mr. Williams and his fellow
prisoners were rescued by the same process that was used in saving the
Kane and Furtney families. Great difficulty was experienced in passing
to them a rope, as the distance was very great from the house of Mr.
Matthew Quinn, but through the ingenuity of a Mr. Crosby, of Ashtabula
county, Ohio, who was temporarily residing at the place, constructing
agricultural machines, a rope was cast after many trials to Williams'
house and the inmates were taken out, one by one, in a basket. Charles
King, before mentioned, was very active on this occasion, as was also
the Reverend Daniel Ames, who on the previous evening had distinguished
himself in rescuing the Furtney family. Mr. Ames ventured across in the
basket on its first trip to Williams' house, remained there encouraging
the women and children and securing the passengers with ropes in their
frail and unsteady carriage, and was the last to leave the tottering
building. When he arrived back he was received with rounds of applause
from the spectators, and the surrounding hills echoed with the cheers
sent up for his brave and self-sacrificing man. Mr. Ames was a man of
very mild and unassuming manners and the great courage manifested by him
on this terrible occasion was a matter of surprise to many who regarded
bluster as the only indication of bravery. Too much credit cannot be
given to him or Mr. King for their conduct at this time. They were both
New Englanders who came to reside at Harper's Ferry during the war,
where their upright and courteous behavior had gained for them many
friends long before this trying period, and where their heroic courage
on this occasion covered them with glory. Mr. Ames, as before stated, is
now dead, but Mr. King moved to New Haven, Connecticut, many years ago
and his subsequent career is unknown to us.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick and family were rescued on Saturday about 9 o'clock,
a.m., by some young men who floated to their house on pieces of drift
and succeeded in bridging the gulf between the Fitzpatrick house and
that of Mr. Matthew Quinn. They did so by stopping and securing in some
way floating fragments of timber--enough to allow of walking from the
one house to the other.
Early on Saturday morning a colored woman was found clinging to a tree
near the site of her house on Shenandoah street. She hung by the hands
to the tree, the water being too deep to allow her to touch bottom. Back
and forward she swayed with the current that eddied round the ruins of
her house, but she held on with a death grip. A youth named William
Gallaher went in a skiff to her rescue and, with the utmost difficulty,
succeeded in saving her life. At that time there was no injunction on
the name of Gallaher to "let her go," and, if there had been ten
thousand orders to that effect, Will was not the boy to obey any command
that militated against humanity. He was one of the author's pupils in
school, when the writer wielded the birch and this notice of the gallant
boy is given with a great deal of pleasure by his old taskmaster. Mr.
Gallaher died lately in Cumberland, Maryland. The woman told an almost
incredible tale; that she had thus hung on all night; that her cabin had
been washed away about 8 o'clock, p.m., and that her daughter had been
drowned, but that she had caught the tree and had retained her hold till
morning. It is probable that at first she got into the forks of the tree
and there remained 'till within a short time of her discovery, when she
fell into the water from exhaustion but, yet, retaining the instinct of
self-preservation, had clutched the tree and held on with the grip of a
drowning person until she was rescued.
Messrs. Child, McCreight and Hathaway, of the mill firm, as well as many
others living on the island of Virginius, had not yet been heard from,
when Mr. Williams and his companions were saved. These gentlemen and the
Reverend Dr. Dutton of the Presbyterian congregation who, also, resided
on that island, were among the very best and most respected citizens of
the place. Their houses could be seen yet standing, but, as the island
was entirely submerged, it was plain that each family was isolated and
that no communication could easily be held from one to another in case
of special emergency, and it was feared that some casualties might have
occurred which, as in the case of the river front of Mr. Williams'
house, could not be perceived from the shore. Each family had its own
adventures and experiences to relate afterwards. All the houses on the
island, except that occupied by Mr. Child, were badly injured and the
lives of the inmates hung by a hair. The Reverend Dr. Dutton was
severely wounded by a brick that fell on his head from a partition in
his house which tumbled down suddenly while he was standing near it. He
was stunned and for a while rendered entirely helpless and unconscious.
He and his wife lived alone and, as there was no one to render her
assistance, Mrs. Dutton, as soon as her husband had partially recovered,
contrived to communicate with a neighbor who threw her a rope by means
of which, strongly bound by her delicate hands around her husband, he
was dragged through the water across to the neighbor's house, where his
wound was dressed and his wants supplied. The venerable sufferer lay for
a long time sick from the effects of his injuries and the excitement and
exposure of the occasion. He recovered, however, and for some years
after continued to serve his divine Master with his accustomed zeal and
devotion. He with Messrs. Child, McCreight and Williams is now dead, and
the survivors of their families are scattered far and wide. Soon after
the flood Mr. Hathaway, connected with the firm of Child and McCreight
and also a resident of the island, returned to his old home in Ohio.
About 7 o'clock on Saturday evening the water had subsided enough to
allow communication by boat with the island of Virginius, and Harper's
Ferry was left to present an indescribable appearance of ruin,
desolation and filth. The very streets were in many places ploughed up,
as it were, and chasms many feet in depth were made in the road bed.
Every house on the south side of the street, from the market house to
the Island of Virginius was either entirely destroyed or badly injured,
except that of Mr. Matthew Quinn, which was saved by the accident of the
falling of some heavily laden house-cars with the railroad trestling,
into the street near it and their lodging against it, which broke and
diverted the force of the current. Some seventy houses in all were
either entirely demolished or rendered uninhabitable and, as before
stated, in many instances, the very foundations were obliterated. All
imaginable floating things were represented in the huge piles of debris
heaped up at corners or wherever the torrent met a check. Trees nearly
two feet in diameter were to be encountered frequently, lodged the
streets and the vast amount of rails, planks and various kinds of timber
gathered up for use, formed a very important item of fuel for the
citizens during the severe winter that followed. Sadder than all, some
forty-two lives were lost. Three families named Bateman, numbering over
twenty souls, disappeared, with a large brick building at Shenandoah
City--a suburb--into which they had fled from their own houses for
greater protection. Of these families only one body was recovered for
interment. The Batemans were humble, hard-working people, supposed to
have in their veins the blood of the Indians that in former times
possessed the land, tinctured with that of the African, but they were a
good deal respected for their industry and unobtrusive manners. It has
been related before that ten were lost on Overton's Island. Mrs.
Margaret Carrol, widow of Eli Carroll, formerly proprietor of the Wager
house--afterwards called Fouke's hotel--and, at one time owner of
"Hannah" who saved the author's life at the Brown raid, was drowned at
the boarding house of Mrs. Nancy Evans on Virginius Island. She was very
old and feeble and, when the family were retreating from the house on
Friday evening, they tried to induce her to accompany them, but in vain.
Either not considering the flood dangerous or being from age and
infirmities, apathetic about the result, she refused to leave the house
and there was no time to be lost in arguing the case with her, as the
other inmates had barely a few minutes in which to make their own
escape. Soon after the house was swept away and with it, of course, the
hapless old lady. Strangely enough, her body was found some weeks
afterward about thirty miles down the Potomac, near the mouth of Seneca
creek, and within a few paces of the residence of one of her relations.
The corpse was recognized by means of a ring with Mrs. Carrol's name
engraved on it which was on one of the fingers, and the remains were
forwarded to Harper's Ferry for interment. Several persons were drowned
whose names cannot be gathered now, and, indeed, it is probable that the
loss of life was much more extensive than is generally supposed, as it
is known that the upper islands are always occupied by stragglers and
obscure people, of whom little note is taken in the neighborhood, and
the chances are that many of such temporary residents were lost of whom
no account was given and about whom no questions were asked.
A remarkable occurrence took place in connection with this flood which,
though, of course, accidental, was a very strange coincidence. The
Reverend N. C. Brackett, county superintendent of free schools, had
convened the teachers' association and had secured the services of
Professor Kidd, a well known itinerant lecturer on elocution, to give
instruction to them on this important branch of education. On Friday
evening, before any apprehension was felt from the river, he was holding
forth in the public school house, on Shenandoah street. He remarked on
the faulty construction of school houses in general through that region
as being a serious drawback on the comfort and advancement of pupils,
and he turned the attention of his audience to the building in which
they were, as being about the worst-planned of any he had seen. Warming
with his subject, he expressed a wish that some convulsion of the
elements would take place for the special purpose of destroying this
house, so that another might be erected on a better plan. This wish,
thoughtlessly or playfully uttered, was, strangely enough, gratified
that very night. The river rose beyond all usual bounds and before 9
o'clock, not a vestige of the obnoxious school house remained. Professor
Kidd, with his own eyes, witnessed the consummation of his desires, but
whether Heaven was moved by the Professor's eloquence or the thing would
have happened anyway, is a question which the writer will not undertake
to decide.
Another strange occurrence used to be related by the late Mr. Edmond H.
Chambers, one of the oldest and most respectable citizens of the place.
Mr. Chambers was a class leader in the Methodist Episcopal church, and
Mrs. Overton, whose tragic death in the flood has been narrated, was a
member of his class. On the Sunday before the awful visitation, she
attended the class meeting and seemed to be excited to a high degree
during the exercises. Her unusual demeanor was noticed by all present,
and it could not be accounted for, as she was not generally very
demonstrative in her devotions. She went 'round among the members of the
class and shook hands with them all, bidding them farewell and saying
that, in all probability, she would never again meet them on this side
of the grave. Her words were prophetic for, sure enough, on Friday night
of the same week, she passed "the bourne from which no traveler
returns." Who can tell what message she may have received from that
mysterious world towards which we are all traveling--that her weary
pilgrimage on earth was nearing its end and that in a few days she would
rejoin the loved ones who had gone before her. It is useless for the
most practical and so called hard-headed of the world to deny that many
such presentments are felt, and that events often prove their
correctness. When people of nervous and susceptible natures take up the
belief that they are doomed to a speedy demise, it may be said with
plausibility, that their imaginations contribute to bring on some
disease to fulfill the prophecy, but when the catastrophe occurs through
accident or any means that did not or could not before affect the mental
or bodily health of the subject, we are bound to confess the probability
of some communication between the incarnate spirit and one of clearer
vision and superior knowledge. But, patience! We will know more about it
some day, perhaps.
On Sunday, October 2nd, a meeting of the citizens was convened to adopt
measures for the relief of the sufferers and a subscription list was
immediately opened. All the people of the place who could afford to do
so, subscribed to the fund and, soon, meetings were held at Charlestown
and other places and large contributions of money, food, raiment and
fuel poured in from the neighboring country and many cities of other
states, so that in a few days provision was made for the support of the
destitute sufferers during the coming winter, and a committee composed
of the most prominent of the citizens regulated the distribution of the
funds, &c., subscribed by the charitable all over the country. Those
whose houses were destroyed or badly injured were kindly entertained by
their more fortunate neighbors until arrangements could be made for
rebuilding or repairing their own homes, and the sympathy evinced toward
those luckless people by their fellow citizens and kind hearted people
in other places was creditable to our common humanity. Had not the flood
been confined to the Shenandoah and, had the Potomac risen like its
tributary, it is possible to imagine the amount of damage that would
have been done. The rivers, it is true, would have checked one another
and lessened each other's current, but the water would have covered the
whole peninsula and that part at least of the beautiful Shenandoah
Valley would have been for a time what antiquarians and geologists
assert it formerly was--the bed of a considerable sea.
It may be well to dissipate the gloom which it is probable the reader
feels after perusing this chapter of human suffering, and to give
cheerful finale to a history more than sufficiently melancholy. It is,
therefore, proposed that the author relate a joke on himself in
connection with the great flood and tell
"How he was 'sold.'"
If his book will meet with half as successful a "sell" as he met with
the writer will be perfectly satisfied. Immediately after the flood
there was a great demand among newspaper men for accounts of it from eye
witnesses, and the author "spread himself" as the saying is, in the
columns of a "daily" in a neighboring city. The main facts given in
these pages were narrated and some which the writer afterwards had good
reason to believe were apocryphal. There resides in Pleasant Valley,
Maryland, a jolly farmer and shrewd business man, whose name it is not
necessary to mention. He is much respected for many good qualities of
head and heart, and his company is much sought and enjoyed by lovers of
fun, for he is always ready to give and take a good joke. Hearing that
the author was collecting items for an extensive account of the
inundation, our wag determined to contribute his share of experiences,
and he related to the writer how, on the Saturday of the flood, he had
rescued, near his place, from the river, a colored woman who had floated
down stream, on the roof of a house, from Page county, Virginia, fully
seventy miles. He represented her as being a very large woman, so big,
indeed, that it was wonderful that the roof could float and carry her
weight. He also mentioned that when rescued she was composedly smoking a
short pipe. The historian who, like all men of great genius, is
remarkable for a child-like simplicity and an unsuspecting nature,
eagerly noted the remarkable voyage and the singular incident of the
pipe smoking, and next day the newspapers above referred to whose
editor, too, must have been a man of genius, came out with the
report--pipe story and all--and not until a skeptical friend of the
correspondent, and one who is of an investigating turn of mind, ventured
to ask how the woman got fire to light her pipe, did the possibility of
his being deceived occur to the writer. In defense of his narrative and
of his feelings, the author suggested that she might have had matches on
her person, but as the chances were overwhelmingly against the
probability of there being any thing dry about her, he was obliged to
"confess the corn," as the phrase goes, and admit that he had been
duped. It was some consolation, however, to reflect that the shrewd
newspaper man had shared the same fate at the hands of the Pleasant
Valley Munchausen. The latter further related that the woman was staying
at his house, recruiting after her voyage and, this getting abroad, many
contributions of money and creature comforts came pouring into his care,
for the relief of his protege. There is a town not far from his house,
the inhabitants of which were Abolitionists before the war, and are
Republicans now. On hearing of the sad condition of the mythical black
woman and her miraculous escape, the citizens of that place assembled in
town meeting and subscribed liberally for her benefit. They were
however, and are very cautious, prudent people and they determined to
send a committee to inquire into the matter before remitting. Our friend
was equal to the occasion and, when the committee arrived at his house,
he showed them a strapping black woman who had been for many years in
his family, and pointed to her as a living witness to the truth of his
story. As the committee were not acquainted with domestics, they felt
perfectly satisfied and, on their return home, they reported favorably
of the affair, and the funds were sent. All he received for the use of
the black myth, Munchausen immediately transferred to the Harper's Ferry
relief association and the money and the joke contributed to the comfort
and merriment of the real sufferers.
On the 25th of November, 1877, there was a big and disastrous flood in
the Potomac, caused by heavy rains in the valleys of both branches of
that river. There was no corresponding rise in the Shenandoah, however,
as the rains did not extend to any great degree to the regions drained
by the latter. Harper's Ferry did not suffer much from this flood,
except that the Chesapeake and Ohio canal, with which its interests are
to some degree identified, was almost entirely demolished. That
important channel of business has never fully recovered from the loss it
sustained on that occasion, and, of course, the whole country bordering
on it has been more or less affected by the depressed condition of that
useful thoroughfare.
On the last day of May, 1889, both rivers rose to an unprecedented
height, but as the currents acted as mutual checks on one another, there
was comparatively little damage done to property at the place, except
from the filthy deposits left by the waters. This was the day of the
famous Johnstown disaster and, while the people of that place were being
hurried to destruction, the author of these pages was enjoying a swim in
the basement of his own house at Harper's Ferry--not "Moonshine
Cottage," however--the site of which will never be inundated until the
gap in the Blue Ridge is stopped up in some convulsion of Nature that
will topple over the Maryland and Loudoun Heights. He and his had
retreated to the upper part of the house, as soon as the lower floor was
flooded, but having forgotten to secure some important papers which he
usually kept in the apartment now under water, he was obliged to strip
and strike out to their rescue.
Great as were the hopes excited by the sale of the government property
in November, 1869, and the promise of a renewal of business activity, it
soon appeared that those expectations were illusory. Captain Adams and
others interested in the purchase became incorporated under the title of
"The Harper's Ferry Manufacturing and Water Power Company" and the
captain more than hinted that Senator Sprague and other wealthy
manufacturers of the north were concerned as partners in the new firm.
On one occasion, soon after the purchase, a telegraphic dispatch from
Captain Adams reached the place stating that Senator Sprague would visit
the town on a particular day and address the people on "The Future of
Harper's Ferry." This looked like business and hand-bills were
immediately struck off and circulated through the surrounding country,
inviting all to assist the citizens of the place in showing honor to the
great man. A committee was appointed to present him with an elaborate
address, and preparations were made to receive him in a manner suitable
to the occasion. On the appointed day, however, the senator was "non
est" and it is said that he afterwards expressed great astonishment and
indignation at the unauthorized use of his name in the business. Then,
indeed, for the first time, did the people of Harper's Ferry begin to
suspect a fraud of some kind and future developments went to confirm
their unpleasant surmises. Though Captain Adams hired a watchman to take
care of the property, and he himself continued to visit the place at
intervals, it soon became apparent that his company were in no hurry to
begin manufactures or the preparations for them. After the flood of 1870
some influence was brought to bear on the government to delay the
collection of the first installment of the purchase money, and a bill
was introduced into Congress to extend the time for payment to five
years. The grounds for this stay of collection and the bill were the
damage done by the high water to a considerable part of the property
purchased, and the great distress caused to the whole place by that
calamity. About the same time it became known that a claim was set up by
Captain Adams and his firm against the Baltimore and Ohio railroad
company for possession of the ground over which the road passes between
Harper's Ferry and Peacher's Mill. The railroad company had, many years
before, got the right of way through the armory grounds from the
government on certain conditions, and no one dreamed of their being
disturbed about it until the thought struck some Washington City
speculators that there was something to be made off the road by the
purchase of the armory property and the institution of a suit of
ejectment. In this way the people of Harper's Ferry were sacrificed to
the greed of a set of heartless speculators, and the injury was
aggravated by the absolute certainty that if Captain Adams had not made
his ill-omened appearance on the day of the sale the Baltimore and Ohio
railroad company would have purchased the property and erected on it a
rolling mill.
The courts were now appealed to, but a recital of the many suits and
counter-suits between the government, the railroad company and the Adams
company would be uninteresting and tiresome. The latter first tried to
eject the railroad company and, failing in this, and finding that, as
they never intended to establish manufacturing at the place, their
enterprise was futile, they tried to return the property into the hands
of the government on the pretense that they could not get possession of
all they had bargained for. After a great deal of litigation the
government, no doubt, thinking that the game was not worth the candle,
as the saying is, finally cried "quits" and received back the property,
without enforcing any pecuniary claim arising from the sale. All this
time the people of Harper's Ferry were suffering from hope deferred and
truly sick were their hearts. The magnificent water power was lying
idle, as far as any general utilization of it was concerned, and so
matters rested until the year 1886, when the property was purchased by
Savery and Company, of Wilmington, Delaware, who, in the spring of 1887,
proceeded to render the water power available for the purpose of pulp
mills. These gentlemen encountered many difficulties arising from the
indefinite wording of old deeds made to the government at various times
and the conflicting claims of various property holders at the place.
Their most serious difficulty was with the firm of Child, McCreight and
Company, or rather with a new firm composed of some members of the
original one and others taken from time to time into the company. In the
summer of 1887 the United States Court at Parkersburg, West Virginia,
decided in favor of Savery and Company, standing on the rights supposed
to have been enjoyed by the government when the sale was made to these
gentlemen. In the meantime, a pulp mill was erected on the Shenandoah,
and, in some time after another on the Potomac. Savery and Company
experienced difficulties with the Chesapeake and Ohio canal company
also. The State of Maryland has always laid claim to jurisdiction over
the Potomac, as far as the ordinary water mark on the Virginia shore
and, as in times of drought, the volume of water in that river is but
little more than is required for the supply of the canal, the State of
Maryland, which owns a large interest in that work, when appealed to by
the canal company, used all its power to hinder the water from being
diverted to other industries than that of the canal which is under their
direct patronage and protection. The author is not advised as to the
result of this controversy, but both the pulp mills are in operation and
that on the Potomac--the one to be affected by any victory for the canal
company--is worked at present without any apparent interruption. The new
firm--Savery and Company--are evidently good business men, and it would
appear as if they had come to stay, and give a start to a new Harper's
Ferry. It is, perhaps, a good sign of their business qualifications that
they are not bothered with sentiment as is shown in their sale of John
Brown's fort. Everybody at the place wishes them well and hopes that
they realize a good price for this interesting relic, but many regret
that they did not retain it, as age but added to its value to the owners
and, indeed, to the whole town, for many a tourist has tarried a day at
the place expressly to get a good sight of it, and the older it grew,
the more interest was attached to it.
When the author of this book had about finished his labors, he became
aware of something very interesting in connection with the site of
Harper's Ferry. Had he known it when he began, he certainly would have
given his readers the benefit of it at the start, for there it belongs
as, if it happened at all, it occurred away back in the misty ages of
history or, at least, of Christianity. It is true that he could have
remodeled his manuscript and penned it over again, but, as the Fatalists
say, "what is written is written" and the undoing of what has been done
might bring bad luck to him by putting him in conflict with Fate,
besides imposing much labor on him for nothing, perhaps. From his
earliest years the writer has been familiar with the legend of Saint
Brandan or Borandan, a pious though enterprising Irish monk of the 6th
century, who embarked, it is said, on the Atlantic in quest of the
"Isles of Paradise," as they were called. At that time and, indeed, at a
much later period, there was a firm belief that there was, at least, one
island of exquisite beauty in the western Ocean, which appeared at
intervals, but always eluded those who tried to take possession of it.
There is reason to believe that some vision of the kind, the effect of
mirage was sometimes presented to the unsophisticated sailors and
fishermen of the olden time and as in those days science had scarcely
been born, it is no wonder that a belief in the actual existence of this
land was firmly fixed in the minds of a people imaginative and poetic as
the Irish, ancient or modern. Be this as it may, there is a well
authenticated tradition of the voyage of Saint Brandan in quest of this
evanescent land, and manuscripts of hoary antiquity preserved in
monasteries until the Reformation, and, since, in old families that
trace their lineage even to the times of the Druids, corroborate the
oral tradition. Grave historians of late times give respectful mention
to the voyage of Saint Brandan and many prefer a claim to his having
been the first European discoverer of America. Some time this
winter--1901-1902--the author saw in some newspaper a statement
purporting to be from some correspondent in Great Britain or Ireland,
that a manuscript had been discovered a little before, giving a
circumstantial account of this voyage--of the discovery by Brandan of a
land of apparently great extent and surpassing beauty--of the entrance
by the voyagers into a large bay, their ascent of a wide river that
emptied into it, and their final resting at the mouth of another river
in a chasm of awful sublimity. The correspondent concludes that Saint
Brandan had discovered America--that the bay was the Chesapeake and that
the river ascended was the Potomac. If we grant all this, we may
conclude, as the correspondent does, that the Saint rested at the mouth
of the Shenandoah, on the site of Harper's Ferry. As before noted,
there appears to be little doubt of the voyage or of the discovery of
some land by Brandan, for the most cautious writers of even the present
day refuse to treat the story with contempt, but whether we can
confidently follow him all the way from Ireland to our very door at
Harper's Ferry or not, is a matter for some consideration and future
developments. There is not a man in that town who does not wish the tale
to be true, for, besides the poetry of the matter, it would be a feather
in the cap of Harper's Ferry that it was presumably under the protection
of a saint and an Irish one at that. An Irishman, in the flesh, does not
stand on trifles when the interests of his friends are at stake and,
when he is translated to Heaven and invested with the dignity of a
saint, he may be relied on to put in some heavy licks for any cause or
person he loved while on earth. If the tale of the correspondent is true
in every respect, Harper's Ferry may be regarded as Saint Brandan's own
child--the heir to his fame on earth and the best entitled to all the
influence which he may command in Heaven. We must not inquire too
closely as to how he got past "The Great Falls" or what induced him to
undertake the great labor of the portage.
Within a few years the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company have made
great changes at Harper's Ferry, enough to alter its appearance very
materially. In the summer of 1892 they commenced the cutting of a tunnel
of over eight hundred feet in length through the spur of the Maryland
Heights that projects over the old track near the railroad bridge. They
also commenced at the same time the erection of stone piers to support a
new bridge a little northwest of the old one. The course of the road bed
in the town has also been changed, for the old trestling has been
abandoned and the track has been laid across the eastern end of the old
armory grounds and over a part of the site of John Brown's fort. The
principal object of this change was to straighten the road and avoid the
dangerous curves at the old bridge and also to do away with the
perpetual expense of keeping the trestle work in repair. In
consequence, the appearance of the place is greatly changed and not for
the better, but, happen what may, the eternal mountains will remain,
clothed with the verdure of spring and summer, the purple and gold of
autumn, or the snowy mantle of winter, according to the season. The
noble and historic rivers, too, will pour their allied waters through
the awe inspiring chasm which, in the course of bygone ages, their
united strength has cut through the gigantic barrier of the Blue Ridge.
The Bald Eagle--king of the birds--will sweep in majestic curves around
the turret pinnacles of the Alpine Heights or, poised on outspread
wings, will survey his unassailable ancestral domain and, if in the
garish light of day, the utter loneliness and wildness of the mountains
oppress the imagination, the gloaming and the tender moonbeams will
mellow the savage grandeur of the scene and invest it with a dreamy and
mystical beauty to soften and enhance its sublimity. Besides, whatever
may occur in the future, Harper's Ferry has in the past attained a fame
of which even Fate itself cannot deprive it and, as long as poetry,
romance and a love of the sublime and beautiful in Nature find a home in
the human heart, tourists from all the continents and the isles of the
sea will visit it, and the day will never come when there will be no
enthusiastic lover of freedom to doff his hat at the shrine of John
Brown. He was, anyway, a man of honest convictions who fought
desperately and died fearlessly for the faith that was in him, and what
hero has done more?
Having spent a long and a very long winter's night in a haunted house
with a corpse for his only companion, and having been treated with
marked consideration by their ghostships in their not bothering him in
any way, the writer feels under obligations to give the spirits a puff
and keep alive their memory in an age of skepticism. He, therefore,
craves the reader's patience while he relates the history of an
invisible but exceedingly potent sprite that kept the neighborhood of
Harper's Ferry in a terrible ferment for a long time and that to this
day gives a name to a thriving village within a short distance of that
town. Tourists who come to historic Harper's Ferry never fail to gather
all the stories they can, not only of the town itself, but of the
surrounding country, and it is partly for their benefit and partly to
honor the spirits that treated him so cleverly, that the author gives
the following legend. There are but few, indeed, in northern Virginia,
who have not heard the tale a thousand times, with endless variations,
all accounts, however, agreeing as to the main facts. The author has
heard many versions of it, but he will give it as he got it from a
gentleman now deceased--an ex-member of Congress and an ex-minister to
one of the most important nations of Europe. This gentleman spent much
of his youth in the immediate neighborhood of the village where the
great mystery occurred and he was on the most intimate terms with one of
the families that were conspicuous in the occurrence. Of course, he gave
it as he received it himself. He was born when the spirit was rampant,
but he got the story fresh from those who were witnesses to the mystery.
He was an eminent man and deeply learned--a graduate of Georgetown
College--and the writer would give a great deal to be able to relate the
story with the inimitable grace of his informant. Of course, he did not
believe the legend himself, but he cherished it as a memory of his
childhood and as a choice morsel of folklore.
THE LEGEND OF WIZARD CLIP.
In the southwest part of Jefferson county, West Virginia, within less
than a mile of the Opequon river so famous in the late war, is a drowsy
though well-to-do village that rejoices in three names--Middleway,
Smithfield and Wizard Clip. The first of these names it got from its
being exactly the same distance from Winchester, Martinsburg and
Harper's Ferry, and this is the name acknowledged in the postal service.
The second name--Smithfield--is derived from a very respectable family
of the far extended Smith clan that has resided there a great many
years. The last--Wizard Clip--it got from a singular legend, connected
with a house that once stood in the outskirts of the village. This
building, except a part of the foundation, has long since succumbed to
time. Not far from the site of the house is a tract of land known as
"The Priest's Field" which at one time belonged to a resident of the
aforesaid mansion--a man named Livingstone--but now forms a part of the
lands of Mr. Joseph Minghini. In the old burying ground of the village
is, or at least was shown a few years ago, a mound known as "The
Stranger's Grave" and these singular names will be explained by the
story.
Some time about the commencement of the 19th century a Pennsylvanian,
named Livingstone, moved from his native state and purchased the farm on
which was the residence above referred to. He and his family took
possession of the house, and for several years they prospered.
Livingstone used to say that he had been unfortunate in life before his
moving to Virginia, and he was fond of contrasting his former failures
with his success in his new home. He is said to have been a man of a
mild and genial disposition, but tradition has it that his better half
was of a different temper and that, figuratively, she wore the garment
which is supposed to be the 'special prerogative and attribute of the
male sex. The facts of our tale, if indeed, they are bona fide facts at
all, appear to bear out the popular estimate of the family, with the
addition, perhaps, that Mr. Livingstone was of a credulous turn of mind,
which exposed him to the machinations of some designing neighbors, who
took advantage of his unsophisticated nature and who, perhaps, were not
sorry to punish the wife for her lack of amiability. It should be noted
that the period of our tale long antedates railroads and steamboats.
Goods were then conveyed entirely by horse power and the principal road
from Baltimore and Alexandria to southwest Virginia, Kentucky and
Tennessee passed through Middleway. In consequence, long convoys of
wagons were constantly passing along this road which was within a few
yards of Livingstone's house. About three miles east of this residence,
also on this road, lived an Irish family, named McSherry, from whom are
sprung the many highly respectable people of that name who now adorn
nearly every learned profession in West Virginia, Maryland and
Pennsylvania, especially that of medicine. Between these two residences
lived Joseph Minghini--an Italian--the grandfather of the gentleman
referred to as now owning the tract of land called "The Priest's Field."
The Minghini of our tale had accompanied the famous general Charles Lee
from Italy when that eccentric character was obliged to fly from the
land of Caesars, but finding himself disappointed in his patron had set
up for himself in the neighborhood of Middleway. So much for a preface
and now for our story.
One evening a stranger called at Livingstone's house and asked for a
night's lodging. This was accorded to him cheerfully by Livingstone and,
in justice to the lady of the house, it must be recorded that tradition
is silent on the subject of what she thought of her husband's
hospitality and, being an impartial chronicler, the writer will give her
the benefit of any doubt on the subject, especially as it turned out
afterwards that she had good reason to regret her having "taken in the
stranger." The family and their guest conversed for a good part of the
night, as is customary in Virginia on such occasions, and the new
acquaintances separated about 10 o'clock, Mr. Livingstone conducting
the stranger to a sleeping apartment and then betaking himself to his
own. After having slept some time, the master of the house awoke and
became aware of queer noises coming from the direction of his guest's
apartment. He arose, knocked at the stranger's door and inquired what
was the matter. The occupant replied that he was very sick and that he
had a presentment that he could not live 'till daylight. At the same
time he entreated that a Catholic priest should be sent for to shrive
him--that he had been brought up in the Catholic faith, but that he had
neglected religion when in health. Now he would gladly accept its
consolations, for he felt himself to be in extremis. Livingstone replied
that he knew of no priest of that faith anywhere near, and that he could
not hope to find one closer than in Maryland. He remarked, however, that
he had neighbors who were Catholics--meaning the McSherrys and the
Minghinis--and that they might set him on the track make inquiries of
those people. On this, the wife who, too, had been aroused, and
woman-like, was listening to the conversation became very angry and told
her husband that, if he was fool enough to start out on such a
wild-goose chase, she would take good care to thwart him, even if he
succeeded in finding the clergyman, which was unlikely enough. She was
determined, she said, to hinder any Romish priest from entering her
house, and that the best thing Livingstone could do was to return to his
bed and leave the stranger to his fate. The good-natured and
well-disciplined husband submitted and again retired to slumber. Next
morning the guest did not appear for breakfast and Livingstone, a good
deal alarmed, went to the stranger's room and found him dead. The
neighbors of the family knew nothing of these occurrences, and the
Livingstones would not be likely to say much about them, unless they
were driven to a disclosure by the pangs of terror and remorse. They,
however, had the corpse on their hands, and, of course, the fact of the
death could not be concealed. A few neighbors were notified, and the
unknown was committed to nameless grave.
No other designation can be given to him than "the unknown" because the
stranger had not revealed to the family his name or anything connected
with his history, except in the few remorseful words to Livingstone,
when he confessed to the sinfulness of his life. No clue was ever found
to his name, family or nationality, but, as the Livingstones did not
report any peculiarity in his accent, it is to be inferred that he was
an American by birth or very long residence.
On the return of the family from the funeral late in the evening they
built a good fire and took their seats around it, discussing, no doubt,
the untoward occurrences of the previous night, when, suddenly the logs
jumped, all ablaze, from the fireplace and whirled around the floor in a
weird dance, sputtering sparks all about the room and seeming to be
endowed with demoniacal power and intelligence. Poor Livingstone, too,
danced around, trying to put out the fire, but it took him a long time
to do so, and no sooner had he thrown the smoldering sticks back into
the fireplace than they jumped out again and went through the same
performance as before, and Livingstone was again obliged to hustle for
the safety of his house. This was repeated at short intervals until
daylight, and the family did not get a moment's rest during that
memorable night. How the amiable lady of the house managed to cook
breakfast, tradition does not say, but from the fact that nothing is
related of suffering by the Livingstones from hunger, it is to be
presumed that the "spook" let up on them for a little while and allowed
them to get something to eat.