THE GREAT BLACK WAY
“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because of the Lord hath
anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; He hath sent me to
bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and
the opening of the prison to them that are bound.”
Half-way between Maine and Florida, in the Heart of the Alleghanies, a
mighty gateway lifts its head and discloses a scene which, a century and
a a quarter ago, Thomas Jefferson said was “worth a voyage across the
Atlantic.” He continues: “You stand on a very high point of land; on
your right comes up the Shenandoah, having ranged along the foot of the
mountain a hundred miles to find a vent; on your left approaches the
Potomac, in quest of a passage also. In the moment of their junction
they rush together against the mountain, rend it asunder, and pass off
to the sea.”[198]
This is Harper’s Ferry and this was the point which John Brown chose for
his attack on American slavery. He chose it for many reasons. He loved
beauty: “When I met Brown at Peterboro in 1858,” writes Sanborn, “Morton
played some fine music to us in the parlor,—among other things
Schubert’s _Serenade_, then a favorite piece,—and the old Puritan, who
loved music and sang a good part himself, sat weeping at the air.”[199]
He chose Harper’s Ferry because a United States arsenal was there and
the capture of this would give that dramatic climax to the inception of
his plan which was so necessary to its success. But both these were
minor reasons. The foremost and decisive reason was that Harper’s Ferry
was the safest natural entrance to the Great Black Way. Look at the map
(page 274). The shaded portion is “the black belt” of slavery where
there were massed in 1859 at least three of the four million slaves. Two
paths led southward toward it in the East:—the way by Washington,
physically broad and easy, but legally and socially barred to bondsmen;
the other way, known to Harriet Tubman and all fugitives, which led to
the left toward the crests of the Alleghanies and the gateway of
Harper’s Ferry. One has but to glance at the mountains and swamps of the
South to see the Great Black Way. Here, amid the mighty protection of
overwhelming numbers, lay a path from slavery to freedom, and along that
path were fastnesses and hiding-places easily capable of becoming
permanent fortified refuges for organized bands of determined armed men.
The exact details of Brown’s plan will never be fully known. As Realf
said: “John Brown was a man who would never state more than it was
absolutely necessary for him to do. No one of his most intimate
associates and I was one of the most intimate was possessed of more than
barely sufficient information to enable Brown to attach such companion
to him.”[200]
[Illustration: MAP SHOWING THE GREAT BLACK WAY]
A glance at the map shows clearly that John Brown intended to operate in
the Blue Ridge mountains rising east of the Shenandoah and known at
Harper’s Ferry as Loudoun Heights. The Loudoun Heights rise boldly 500
to 700 feet above the village of Harper’s Ferry and 1,000 feet above the
sea. They run due south and then southwest, dipping down a little the
first three miles, then rising to 1,500 feet, which level is practically
maintained until twenty-five miles below Harper’s Ferry where the
mountains broaden to a dense and labyrinthical wilderness, and rise to a
height of 2,000 or more feet. Right at this high point and insight of
High Knob (a peak of 2,400 feet) began, in Fauquier County, the Great
Black Way. In this county in 1850 were over 10,000 slaves, and 650 free
Negroes, as compared with 9,875 whites. From this county to the southern
boundary of Virginia was a series of black counties with a majority of
slaves, containing in 1850 at least 260,000 Negroes. From here the Great
Black Way went south as John Brown indicated in his diary and
undoubtedly in the marked maps, which Virginia afterward hastily
destroyed.
The easiest way to get to these heights was from Harper’s Ferry. An
hour’s climb from the arsenal grounds would easily have hidden a hundred
men in inaccessible fastnesses, provided they were not overburdened; and
even with arms, ammunition and supplies, they could have repelled,
without difficulty, attacks on the retreat. Forts and defenses could be
prepared in these mountains, and before the raid they had been pretty
thoroughly explored and paths marked. In Harper’s Ferry just at the
crossing of the main road from Maryland lay the arsenal. The plan
without a doubt was first, to collect men and arms on the Maryland side
of the Potomac; second, to attack the arsenal suddenly and capture it;
third, to bring up the arms and ammunition and, together with those
captured, to cross the Shenandoah to Loudoun Heights and hide in the
mountain wilderness; fourth, thence to descend at intervals to release
slaves and get food, and retreat southward. Most writers have apparently
supposed that Brown intended to retreat from the arsenal across the
Potomac. A moment’s thought will show the utter absurdity of this plan.
Brown knew guerrilla warfare, and the failure of Harper’s Ferry raid
does not prove it a blunder from the start. The raid was not a foray
_from_ the mountains, which failed because its retreat was cut off, but
it was a foray _to_ the mountains with the village and arsenal on the
way, which was defeated apparently because the arms and ammunition train
failed to join the advance-guard.
This then was the great plan which John Brown had been slowly
elaborating and formulating for twenty years—since the day when kneeling
beside a Negro minister he had sworn his sons to blood-feud with
slavery.
The money resources with which John Brown undertook his project are not
exactly known. Sanborn says: “Brown’s first request in 1858 was for a
fund of a thousand dollars only; with this in the hand he promised to
take the field either in April or May. Mr. Stearns acted as treasurer of
this fund, and before the 1st of May nearly the whole the amount had
been paid in or subscribed,—Stearns contributing three hundred dollars,
and the rest of our committee smaller sums. It soon appeared, however,
that the amount named would be too small, and Brown’s movements were
embarrassed from the lack of money before the disclosures of Forbes came
to his knowledge.”[201] From first to last George L. Stearns gave in
cash and arms about $7,500, and Gerrit Smith contributed more than
$1,000. Merriam brought with him $600 in gold in October. Between March
10th and October 16th, Brown expended at least $2,500. In all Sanborn
raised $4,000 for Brown. Hinton says: “As near as can be estimated, the
money received by Brown could not have exceeded $12,000, while the
supplies, arms, etc., furnished may have cost $10,000 more. Of course,
there were smaller contributions and support coming in, but if the total
estimate be placed at $25,000, for the period between the 15th of
September, 1856, when he left Lawrence, Kan., and the 16th of October,
1859, when he moved on Harper’s Ferry, Va., with twenty-one men, it will
certainly cover all of the outlay except that of time, labor, and
lives.”[202]
This total, however, does not include a fund of $1,000 raised for his
family.
The civic organization under which Brown intended to work has been
spoken of. The military organization was based on his Kansas experience
and his reading. In his diary is this entry:
“Circassia has about 550,000
Switzerland 2,037,030
Guerrilla warfare See Life of Lord Wellington
Page 71 to Page 75 (Mina)
See also Page 102 some valuable hints in the Same Book. See also
Page 196 some most important instructions to officers.
See also same Book Page 235 these words deep, and
narrow defiles where 300 men would suffice to check an army.
See also Page 236 on top of Page ”
This life of Wellington, W. P. Garrison states,[203] was Stocqueler’s
and the pages referred to tell of the Spanish guerrillas under Mina in
1810, and of methods of cooking and discipline. In one place the author
says: “Here we have a chaos of mountains, where we meet at every step
huge fallen masses of rock and earth, yawning fissures, deep and narrow
defiles, where 300 men would suffice to check an army.” The Alleghanies
in Virginia and Carolina was similar in topography and, for the
operation here, Brown proposed a skeleton army which could work together
or in small units of any size:
“A company will consist of fifty-six privates, twelve non-commissioned
officers, eight corporals, four sergeants and three commissioned
officers (two lieutenants, a captain), and a surgeon.
“The privates shall be divided into bands or messes of seven each,
numbering from one to eight, with a corporal to each, numbered like his
band.
“Two bands will comprise a section. Sections will be numbered from one
to four.
“A sergeant will be attached to each section, and numbered like it.
“Two sections will comprise a platoon. Platoons will be numbered one and
two, and each commanded by a lieutenant designed by like number.”[204]
Four companies composed a battalion, four battalions a regiment, and
four regiments a brigade.
So much for his resources and plans. Now for the men whom he chose as
co-workers. The number of those who took part in the Harper’s Ferry raid
is not known. Perhaps, including active slave helpers, there were about
fifty. Seventeen Negroes, reported as probably killed, are wholly
unknown, and those slaves who helped and escaped are also unknown. This
leaves the twenty-two men usually regarded as making the raid. They
fall, of course, into two main groups, the Negroes and the whites. Six
or seven of the twenty-two were Negroes.
First in importance came Osborne Perry Anderson, a free-born
Pennsylvania mulatto, twenty-four years of age. He was a printer by
trade, “well educated, a man of natural dignity, modest, simple in
character and manners.” He met John Brown in Canada. He wrote the most
interesting and reliable account of the raid, and afterward fought in
the Civil War.
Next came Shields Green, a full-blooded Negro from South Carolina,
whence he had escaped from slavery, after his wife had died, leaving a
living boy still in bondage. He was about twenty-four years old, small
and active, uneducated but with natural ability and absolutely fearless.
He met Brown at the home of Frederick Douglass, who says: “While at my
house, John Brown made the acquaintance of a colored man who called
himself by different names—sometimes ‘Emperor,’ at other times, ‘Shields
Green’.... He was a fugitive slave, who had made his escape from
Charleston, S. C.; a state from which a slave found it no easy matter to
run away. But Shields Green was not one to shrink from hardships or
dangers. He was a man of few words and his speech was singularly broken;
but his courage and self-respect made him quite a dignified character.
John Brown saw at once what ‘stuff’ Green ‘was made of,’ and confided to
him his plans and purposes. Green easily believed in Brown, and promised
to go with him whenever he should be ready to move.”[205]
Dangerfield Newby was a free mulatto from the neighborhood of Harper’s
Ferry. He was thirty years of age, tall and well built, with a pleasant
face and manner; he had a wife and seven children in slavery about
thirty miles south of Harper’s Ferry. The wife was about to be sold
south at this time, and was sold immediately after the raid. Newby was
the spy who gave general information to the party, and lived out in the
community until the night of the attack.
John A. Copeland was born of free Negro parents in North Carolina,
reared in Oberlin and educated at Oberlin College. He was a
straight-haired mulatto, twenty-two years old, of medium size, and a
carpenter by trade. Hunter, the prosecuting attorney of Virginia, says:
“From my intercourse with him I regarded him as one of the most
respectable prisoners that we had.... He was a copper-colored Negro,
behaved himself with as much firmness as any of them, and with far more
dignity. If it had been possible to recommend a pardon for any of them,
it would have been for this man Copeland, as I regretted as much, if not
more, at seeing him executed than any other one of the party!”[206]
Lewis Sherrard Leary was born in slavery in North Carolina and also
reared in Oberlin, where he worked as a harness-maker. An Oberlin friend
testified: “He called again afterward, and told me he would like to keep
to the amount I had given him, and would like a certain amount more for
a certain purpose, and was very chary in his communications to me as to
how he was to use it, except that he did inform me that he wished to use
it in aiding slaves to escape. Circumstances just then transpired which
had interested me contrary to any thought I ever had in my mind before.
I had had exhibited to me a daguerreotype of a young lady, a beautiful
appearing girl, who I was informed was about eighteen years of
age....”[207] But here Senator Mason of the Inquisition scented danger,
and we can only guess the reasons that sent Leary to his death. He was
said to be Brown’s first recruit outside the Kansas band.
John Anderson, a free Negro from Boston, was sent by Lewis Hayden and
started for the front. Whether he arrived and was killed, or was too
late has never been settled.
The seventh man of possible Negro blood was Jeremiah Anderson. He is
listed with the Negroes in all the original reports of the Chatham
Convention and was, as a white Virginian who saw him says, “of middle
stature, very black hair and swarthy complexion. He was supposed by some
to be a Canadian mulatto.”[208] He was descended from Virginia
slaveholders who had moved north and was born in Indiana. He was
twenty-six years old.
Of the white men there were, first of all, John Brown and his family,
consisting of three sons, and two brothers of his eldest daughter’s
husband, William and Dauphin Thompson.
Oliver Brown was a boy not yet twenty-one, though tall and muscular, and
had just been married. Watson was a man of twenty-five, tall and
athletic; while Owen was a large, red-haired prematurely aged man of
thirty-five, partially crippled, good-tempered and cynical. The
Thompsons were neighbors of John Brown and part of a brood of twenty
children. The Brown family and their intermarried Anne Brown says that
William, who was twenty-six years of age, was “kind, generous-hearted,
and helpful to others.” Dauphin, a boy of twenty-two, was, she writes,
“very quiet, with a fair, thoughtful face, curly blonde hair, and
baby-blue eyes. He always seemed like a very good girl.”[209]
The three notable characters of the band were Kagi, Stevens and Cook,
the reformer, the soldier, and the poet. Kagi’s family came from the
Shenandoah Valley. He was twenty-four, had a good English education and
was a newspaper reporter in Kansas, where he earnestly helped the free
state cause. He had strong convictions on the subject of slavery and was
willing to risk all for them. “You will all be killed,” cried a friend
who heard his plan. “Yes, I know it, Hinton, but the result will be
worth the sacrifice.” Hinton adds: “I recall my friend as a man of
personal beauty, with a fine, well-shaped head, a voice of quiet, sweet
tones, that could be penetrating and cutting, too, almost to
sharpness.”[210] Anderson writes that Kagi “left home when a youth, an
enemy to slavery, and brought as his gift offering to freedom three
slaves, whom he piloted to the North. His innate hatred of the
institution made him a willing exile from the state of his birth, and
his great abilities, natural and acquired, entitled him to the position
he held in Captain Brown’s confidence. Kagi was indifferent to personal
appearance; he often went about with slouched hat, one leg of his
pantaloons properly adjusted, and the other partly tucked into his high
boot-top; unbrushed, unshaven, and in utter disregard of ‘the latest
style.’”[211]
Stevens was a handsome six-foot Connecticut soldier of twenty-eight
years of age, who had thrashed his major for mistreating a fellow
soldier and deserted from the United States army. He was active in
Kansas and soon came under John Brown’s discipline.
“Why did you come to Harper’s Ferry?” asked a Virginian.
He replied: “It was to help my fellow men out of bondage. You know
nothing of slavery—I know, a great deal. It is the crime of crimes. I
hate it more and more the longer I live. Even since I have been lying in
this cell, I have heard the crying of 3 slave-children torn from their
parents.”[212]
Cook was also a Connecticut man of twenty-nine years, tall, blue-eyed,
golden-haired and handsome, but a far different type from Stevens. He
was talkative, impulsive and restless, eager for adventure but hardly
steadfast. He followed John Brown as he would have followed anyone else
whom he liked, dreaming his dreams, rushing ahead in the face of danger
and shrinking back appalled and pitiful before the grim face of death.
He was the most thoroughly human figure in the band.
One other deserves mention because it was probably his slowness or
obstinacy that ruined the success of John Brown’s raid. This was Charles
P. Tidd. He was from Maine, twenty-seven years old, trained in Kansas
warfare—a nervous, overbearing and quarrelsome man. He bitterly opposed
the plan of capturing Harper’s Ferry when it was finally revealed, and
as Anne Brown said, “got so warm that he left the farm and went down to
Cook’s dwelling near Harper’s Ferry to let his wrath cool off.” A week
passed before he sullenly gave in.
Besides these, there were six other men of more or less indistinct
personalities. Five were young Kansas settlers from Maine, the Middle
West and Canada, trained in guerrilla warfare under Brown and Montgomery
and thoroughly disliking the slave system which they had seen. They were
personal admirers of Brown and lovers of adventure. The last recruit,
Merriam, was a New England aristocrat turned crusader, fighting the
world’s ills blindly but devotedly. The Negro Lewis Hayden met him in
Boston, “and, after a few words, said, ‘I want five hundred dollars and
must have it.’ Merriam, startled at the manner of the request, replied,
‘If you have a good cause, you shall have it.’ Hayden then told Merriam
briefly what he had learned from John Brown, Jr.: that Captain Brown was
at Chambersburg, or could be heard of there; that he was preparing to
lead a party of liberators into Virginia, and that he needed money; to
which Merriam replied: ‘If you tell me John Brown is there, you can have
my money and me along with it.’”[213]
These were the men—idealists, dreamers, soldiers and avengers, varying
from the silent and thoughtful to the quick and impulsive; from the cold
and bitter to the ignorant and faithful. They believed in God, in
spirits, in fate, in liberty. To them, the world was a wild, young
unregulated thing, and they were born to set it right. It was a
veritable band of crusaders, and while it had much of weakness and
extravagance, it had nothing nasty or unclean. On the whole, they were
an unusual set of men. Anne Brown who lived with them said: “Taking them
all together, I think they would compare well [she is speaking of
manners, etc.] with the same number of men in any station of life I have
ever met.”[214]
They were not men of culture or great education, although Kagi had had a
fair schooling. They were intellectually bold and inquiring—several had
been attracted by the then rampant Spiritualism; nearly all were
skeptical of the world’s social conventions. They had been trained
mostly in the rough school of frontier life, had faced death many times,
and were eager, curious, and restless. Some of them were musical, others
dabbled in verse. Their broadest common ground of sympathy lay in the
personality of John Brown—him they revered and loved. Through him, they
had come to hate slavery, and for him and for what he believed, they
were willing to risk their lives. They themselves, had convictions on
slavery and other matters, but John Brown narrowed down their dreaming
to one intense deed.
Finally, there was John Brown himself. His appearance has been often
described—several times in these pages. In 1859 he was the same striking
figure with whitening hair, burning eyes, and the great white beard
which hardly hid the pendulous side lips of Olympian Jove. One thing,
however, must not be forgotten. John Brown was at this time a sick man.
From 1856 to 1859, scarce a mouth passed without telling of illness. His
health was “some improved” in May 1857, but soon he lost a week “with
ague and fever and left home feeble.” In August he wrote of “ill health”
and “repeated returns of fever and ague.” In September and October, his
health was “poor.” The spring and summer of 1858 found him “not very
stout,” and in July and August, he was “down with ague” and “too sick”
to write. In September he was “still weak,” and, although “some
improved” in December, the following spring found him “not very strong.”
In April, amid the feverish activity of his fatal year, he was “quite
prostrated,” with “the difficulty in my head and ear and with the ague
in consequence.” Late in July, he was “delayed with sickness” and there
can be little doubt that it was an illness and pain-racked body which
his indomitable will forced into the raid of Harper’s Ferry.
Having collected a part of the funds and organized the band, John Brown
was about to strike his blow in the early summer of 1858, as we have
seen, when the Forbes disclosures compelled him to hide in Kansas, where
the last massacre on the Swamp of the Swan invited him. He left Canada
for Kansas in June, 1858. Cook, somewhat against the wishes of Brown who
feared his garrulity, went to Harper’s Ferry, worked as a booking agent
and canal keeper, made love to a maid and married her and then acted as
advance agent awaiting the main band. Ten months after leaving Canada,
and in mid-March, 1859, John Brown appeared again in Canada (as has been
told in Chapter VII) with twelve rescued slaves as an earnest of the
feasibility of his plan. He stayed long enough to spread the news and
then went to northern Ohio where he spoke in public of Kansas and
slavery. “He said that he had never lifted a finger toward any one whom
he did not know was a violent persecutor of the free state men. He had
never killed anybody; although, on some occasions, he had shown the
young men with him how some things might be done as well as others, and
they had done the business. He had never destroyed the value of an ear
of corn, and had never set fire to any pro-slavery man’s house or
property. He had never by his action driven out pro-slavery men from the
Territory; but if the occasion demanded it, he would drive them into the
ground, like fence stakes, where they would remain permanent settlers.
“Brown remarked that he was an outlaw, the governor of Missouri has
offered a reward of $3,000, and James Buchanan $250 more, for him. He
quietly remarked, parenthetically, that John Brown would give two
dollars and fifty cents for the safe delivery of the body of James
Buchanan in any jail of the free states. He would never submit to an
arrest, as he had nothing to gain from submission; but he should settle
all questions on the spot if any attempt was made to take him. The
liberation of those slaves was meant as a direct blow to slavery, and he
laid down his platform that he had considered it his duty to break the
fetters from any slave when he had an opportunity. He was a thorough
Abolitionist.”[215]
Then, he went East to see his family and visit Douglass (where he met
and persuaded Shields Green), and to consult with Gerrit Smith and
Sanborn. Alcott at Concord wrote:
“This evening I heard Captain Brown speak at the town hall on Kansas
affairs and the part took by them in the late troubles there. He tells
his story with surpassing simplicity and sense, impressing us all deeply
by his courage and religious earnestness. Our best people listen to his
words,—Emerson, Thoreau, Judge Hoar, my wife; and some of them
contribute something in aid of his plans without asking particulars,
such confidence does he inspire in his integrity and abilities. I have a
few words with him after his speech, and find him superior to legal
traditions, and a disciple of the Right in ideality and the affairs of
the state. He is Sanborn’s guest and stays for a day only. A young man
named Anderson accompanies him. They go armed, I am told, and will
defend themselves, if necessary. I believe they are now on their way to
Connecticut and farther south, but the captain leaves us much in the
dark concerning his destination and designs for the coming months. Yet
he does not conceal his hatred of slavery, nor his readiness to strike a
blow for freedom at the proper moment. I infer he intends to run off as
many slaves as he can, and so render that property insecure to the
master. I think him equal to anything he dares,—the man to do the deed,
if it must be done, and with the martyr’s temper and purpose. Nature was
deeply intent in the making of him. He is of imposing appearance,
personally—tall, with square shoulders and standing; eyes of deep gray,
and couchant, as if ready to spring at the least rustling, dauntless yet
kindly; his hair shooting backward from low down on his forehead; nose
trenchant and Romanesque; set lips, his voice suppressed yet metallic,
suggesting deep reserves; decided mouth; the countenance and frame
charged with power throughout. Since here last he has added a flowing
beard, which gives the soldierly air and the port of an apostle. Though
sixty years old he is agile and alert and ready for any audacity, in any
crisis. I think him about the manliest man I have ever seen,—the type
and synonym of the Just.”[216]
The month of May, John Brown spent in Boston collecting funds, and in
New York consulting his Negro friends, with a trip to Connecticut to
hurry the making of his thousand pikes. Sickness intervened, but at last
on June 20th, the advance-guard of five—Brown and two of his sons, Jerry
Anderson and Kagi—started southward. They stayed several days at
Chambersburg, where Kagi, coöperating with a faithful Negro barber,
Watson, was established as a general agent to forward men, mail, and
freight. Then passing through Hagerstown, they appeared at Harper’s
Ferry on July 4th. Here they met Cook, who had been selling maps,
keeping the canal-lock near the arsenal, and sending regular information
to Brown. Brown and his sons wandered about at first, and a local farmer
greeted them cheerily: “Good-morning, gentlemen, how do you do?” They
returned the greeting pleasantly. The conversation is recounted as
follows:
“I said, ‘Well, gentlemen,’ after saluting them in that form, ‘I suppose
you are out hunting minerals, gold, and silver?’ His answer was, ‘No, we
are not, we are out looking for land; we want to buy land; we have a
little money, but we want to make it go as far as we can.’ He asked me
about the price of the land. I told him that it ranged from fifteen
dollars to thirty dollars in the neighborhood. He remarked, ‘That is
high; I thought I could buy land here for about a dollar or two dollars
per acre.’ I remarked to him, ‘No, sir; if you expect to get land for
that price, you will have to go further west, to Kansas, or some of
those Territories where there is government land.’ ... I then asked him
where they came from. His answer was, ‘From the northern part of the
state of New York.’ I asked him what he followed there. He said farming
and the frost had been so heavy lately, that it cut off their crops
there; that he could not make anything, and sold out, and thought he
would come further south and try it awhile.”[217]
Through this easy-going, inquisitive farmer, Brown learned of a farm for
rent, which he hired for nine months for thirty-five dollars. It was on
the main road between Harper’s Ferry, Chambersburg, and the North, about
five miles from the Ferry and in a quiet secluded place. The house stood
about 300 yards back from the Boonesborough pike, in plain sight. About
600 yards away on the other side of the road was another cabin of one
room and a garret, which was largely hidden from view by the shrubbery.
Here Brown settled and gradually collected his men and material. The
arms were especially slow in coming. Most of the guns arrived at
Chambersburg from Connecticut about August, but the pikes did not come
until a month later. Then to the men were gathered slowly. They were at
the four ends of the country, in all sorts of employment and different
financial conditions, and they were not certain just when the raid would
take place. All this delayed Brown from July until October and greatly
increased the cost of maintenance. A daughter, Anne, and Oliver’s girl
wife came and kept the house from July 16th to October 1st.
At this critical juncture, Harriet Tubman fell sick—a grave loss to the
cause—and there were other delays. By August 1st, there were at Harper’s
Ferry the two Brown daughters and three sons, and the two brothers of a
son-in-law, besides the two Coppocs, Tidd, Jerry Anderson, and Stevens.
Hazlett, Leeman, and Taylor came soon after. Kagi was still at
Chambersburg and John Brown himself “labored and traveled night and day,
sometimes on old Dolly, his brown mule, and sometimes in the wagon. He
would start directly after night, and travel the fifty miles between the
farm and Chambersburg by daylight the next morning; and he otherwise
kept open communication between headquarters and the latter place, in
order that matters might be arranged in due season.”[218]
In the North John Brown, Jr., was shipping the arms and gathering men
and money. He was in Boston August 10th, at Douglass’s home, soon after,
and later in Canada with Loguen. All the chief branches of the League
were visited and then northern Ohio. The result was meagre; not because
of a lack of men but lack of the kind of men wanted at this time. There
were thousands of Negroes ready to fight for liberty in the ranks. But
most of these John Brown could not use at present. No considerable band
of armed black men could have been introduced into the South without
immediate discovery and civil war. It was therefore picked leaders like
Douglass, Reynolds, Holden and Delaney that Brown wanted at
first—discreet and careful men of influence, who, as he said to
Douglass, could hive the swarming bees both North and South. To get
these picked men interested was, however, difficult. Each had his work
and his theory of racial salvation; they were widely scattered. A number
of them had been convinced in 1858, but the postponement had given time
for reflection and doubt. In many ways, the original enthusiasm had
waned, but it was not dead. The cause was just as great and all that was
needed was to convince men that this was a real chance to strike an
effective blow. They required the magic of Brown’s own presence to
impress this fact upon them. They were not sure of his agents. Men
continued to come, however, others began to prepare and still, others
were almost persuaded. An urgent summons went to Kansas to white fellow
workers, and the response there was similarly small. Brown knew that his
ability to command the services of a large number of Northern Negroes
depended to some degree on Frederick Douglass’s attitude. He was the
first great national Negro leader—a man of ability, _finesse_, and
courage. If he followed John Brown, who could hesitate? If he refused,
was it not for the best of reasons? Thus John Brown continually urged
Douglass and as a last appeal arranged for a final conference on August
19th at Chambersburg in an abandoned stone quarry. Douglass says:
“As I came near, he regarded me rather suspiciously, but soon recognized
me, and received me cordially. He had in his hand when I met him a
fishing-tackle, with which he had been fishing in a stream hard by, but
I saw no fish and did not suppose he cared much for his ‘fisherman’s
luck.’ The fishing was simply a disguise and was certainly a good one.
He looked every way like a man of the neighborhood, and as much at home
as any of the farmers around there. His hat was old and storm-beaten,
and his clothing was about the color of the stone quarry itself—his then
present dwelling-place.
“His face wore an anxious expression, and he was much worn by thought
and exposure. I felt that I was on a dangerous mission, and was as
little desirous of discovery as himself, though no reward had been
offered for me. We—Mr. Kagi, Captain Brown, Shields Green, and
myself—sat down among the rocks and talked over the enterprise which was
about to be undertaken. The taking of Harper’s Ferry, of which Captain
Brown had merely hinted before, was now declared as his settled purpose,
and he wanted to know what I thought of it. I at once opposed the
measure with all the arguments at my command. To me, such a measure
would be fatal to running off slaves (as was the original plan), and
fatal to all engaged in doing so. It would be an attack upon The federal
government and would array the whole country against us. Captain Brown
did most of the talking on the other side of the question. He did not at
all object to rousing the nation; it seemed to him that something
startling was just what the nation needed.... Our talk was long and
earnest; we spent the most of Saturday and a part of Sunday in this
debate—Brown for Harper’s Ferry, and I against it; he for striking a
blow which should instantly rouse the country, and I for the policy of
gradually and unaccountably drawing off the slaves to the mountains, as
at first suggested and proposed by him. When I found that he had fully
made up his mind and could not be dissuaded, I turned to Shields Green
and told him he heard what Captain Brown had said; his old plan was
changed, and that I should return home, and if he wished to go with me
he could do so. Captain Brown urged us both to go with him, but I could
not do so, and could but feel that he was about to rivet the fetters
more firmly than ever on the limbs of the enslaved. In parting, he put
his arms around me in a manner more than friendly and said: ‘Come with
me, Douglass; I will defend you with my life. I want you for a special
purpose. When I strike, the bees will begin to swarm, and I shall want
you to help hive them.’ But my discretion or my cowardice made me proof
against the dear old man’s eloquence—perhaps it was something of both
that determined my course. When about to leave, I asked Green what he
had decided to do, and was surprised by his coolly saying, in his broken
way, ‘I b’lieve I’ll go wid de ole man.’ Here we separated; they to go
to Harper’s Ferry, I to Rochester.”[219]
Douglass’s decision undoubtedly kept many Negroes from joining Brown.
Shields Green, however, started south. The slave-catchers followed him
and made him and Owen Brown swim a river. Only their journeying
southward instead of northward saved them from capture.
Life at the farm during this time was curious. Anderson says:
“There was no milk and water sentimentality—no offensive contempt for
the Negro, while working in his cause; the pulsations of every heart
beat in harmony for the suffering and pleading slave. I thank God that I
have been permitted to realize to its furthest, fullest extent, the
moral, mental, physical, social harmony of an anti-slavery family,
carrying out to the letter the principles of its antitype, the
anti-slavery cause. In John Brown’s house, and in John Brown’s presence,
men from widely different parts of the continent met and united into one
company, wherein no hateful prejudice dared intrude its ugly self—no
ghost of distinction found space to enter....
“To a passer-by, the house and its surroundings presented but
indifferent attractions. Any log tenement of equal dimensions would be
as likely to arrest a stray glance. Rough, unsightly, and aged, it was
only for those privileged to enter and tarry for a long time, and to
penetrate the mysteries of the two rooms it contained—kitchen, parlor,
dining-room below, and the spacious chamber, attic, storeroom, prison,
drilling-room, comprised in the loft above—who could tell how we lived
at Kennedy Farm.
“Every morning, when the noble old man was at home, he called the family
around, read from his Bible, and offered to God most fervent and
touching supplications for all flesh; and especially pathetic were his
petitions in behalf of the oppressed. I never heard John Brown pray,
that he did not make strong appeals to God for the deliverance of the
slave. This duty over, the men went to the loft, there to remain all day
long; few only could be seen about, as the neighbors were watchful and
suspicious. It was also important to talk but little among ourselves, as
visitors to the house might be curious. Besides the daughter and
daughter-in-law, who superintended the work, some one or other of the
men was regularly detailed to assist in the cooking, washing, and other
domestic work. After the ladies left, we did all the work, no one being
exempt, because of age or official grade in the organization.
“The principal employment of the prisoners, as we severally were when
compelled to stay in the loft, was to study Forbes’s Manual, and to go
through a quiet, though rigid drill, under the training of Captain
Stevens, at some times. At other times we applied a preparation for
bronzing our gun-barrels-discussed subjects of reform—related our
personal history; but when our resources became pretty well exhausted,
the _ennui_ from confinement, imposed silence, etc., would make the men
almost desperate. At such times, neither slavery nor slaveholders were
discussed mincingly. We were, while the ladies remained, often relieved
of much of the dullness growing out of restraint by their kindness. As
we could not circulate freely, they would bring in wild fruit and
flowers from the woods and fields.”[220]
Anne, the young daughter, says: “One day, a short time after I went down
there, father was sitting at the table writing. I was nearby sewing (he
and I being alone in the room), when two little wrens that had a nest
under the porch came flying in at the door, fluttering and twittering;
then they flew back to their nest and again to us several times,
seemingly trying to attract our attention. They appeared to be in great
distress. I asked father what he thought was the matter with the little
birds. He asked if I had ever seen them act so before; I told him no.
‘Then let us go and see,’ he said. We went out and found that a snake
had crawled up the post and was just ready to devour the little ones in
the nest. Father killed the snake; and then the old birds sat on the
railing and sang as if they would burst. It seemed as if they were
trying to express their joy and gratitude to him for saving their little
ones. After we went back into the room, he said he thought it very
strange the way the birds asked him to help them, and asked if I thought
it an omen of his success. He seemed very much impressed with that idea.
I do not think he was superstitious, but you know he always thought and
felt that God called him to that work; and seemed to place himself, or
rather to imagine himself, in the position of the figure in the old seal
of Virginia, with the tyrant under her foot.”[221]
The men discussed religion and slavery freely, read Paine’s _Age of
Reason_ and the Baltimore _Sun_. John Brown himself was careful to
cultivate the good-will of his neighbors, attending with skill the sick
among animals and men, so much so that he and his sons became prime
favorites. Owen had long conversations with the people, while Cook was
also moving about the country selling maps. A little Dunker chapel was
near with non-resistant, anti-slavery principles; here John Brown often
worshiped and preached. Yet with all this caution and care, suspicion
lurked about them, and discovery was always imminent.
Brown’s daughter relates that “there was a family of poor people who
lived nearby and who had rented the garden on the Kennedy place,
directly back of the house. The little barefooted woman and four small
children (she carried the youngest in her arms) would all come trooping
over to the garden at all hours of the day, and, at times, several times
during the day. Nearly always they would come up the steps and into the
house and stay a short time. This made it very troublesome for us,
compelling the men, when she came insight at meal-times, to gather up
the victuals and table-cloth and quietly disappear up-stairs.
“One Saturday father and I went to a religious (Dunker) meeting that was
held in a grove near the schoolhouse and the folks left at home forgot
to keep a sharp lookout for Mrs. Heiffmaster, and she stole into the
house before they saw her, and saw Shields Green (that must have been in
September), Barclay Coppoc, and Will Lemnian. And another time after
that she saw C. P. Tidd standing on the porch. She thought these
strangers were running off negroes to the North. I used to give her
everything she wanted or asked for to keep her on good terms, but we
were in constant fear that she was either a spy or would betray us. It
was like standing on a powder magazine after a slow match had been
lighted.”[222]
Despite all precautions, a rumor began to get in the air. A Prussian
Pole was among the Kansas cooperators invited. He had been in Kansas in
1856 and was known to Brown and Kagi. After hearing from Brown in August
1859, the Pole disclosed their plans to Edmund Babb, a correspondent of
the Cincinnati _Gazette_. It was probably Babb who thereupon wrote to
the United States Secretary of War: “I have discovered the existence of
a secret association, having for its object the liberation of the slaves
at the South and by a general insurrection. The leader of the movement
is one ‘old John Brown,’ late of Kansas.” Approximately correct details
of the plot followed, but Secretary Floyd was lolling at a summer resort
and had some little conspiracies of his own in hand not unconnected with
United States arsenals. Being, therefore, as he said magniloquently,
“satisfied in my mind that a scheme of such wickedness and outrage could
not be entertained by any citizens of the United States, I put the
letter away, and thought no more of it until the raid broke out.”[223]
Gerrit Smith, too, with little discretion, addressed to Negro audience
words which plainly showed he shortly expected a slave insurrection.
Even among Harper’s Ferry party forced inaction led to disputes and
disaffection. John Brown sharply rebuked the letter-writing and
gossiping about his men. “Any person is a stupid fool,” he told Kagi,
“who expects his friends to keep for him that which he cannot keep
himself. All our friends have each got their special friends; and they
again have theirs, and it would not be right to lay the burden of
keeping a secret on any one at the end of a long string. I could tell
you of reasons I have for feeling rather keenly on this point.”[224]
The men, on the other hand, were dissatisfied with Brown’s plans as they
were finally disclosed. Anne Brown writes that they generally “did not
know that the raid on the government works was a part of the ‘plan’
until after they arrived at the farm in the beginning of August.”[225]
They wanted simply to repeat the Missouri raid on a larger scale and not
try to capture the arsenal. Tidd was especially stubborn and
irreconcilable. The discussion became so warm that John Brown at one
time resigned, but he was immediately reëlected and this formal letter
was sent to him:
“DEAR SIR—We have all agreed to sustain your decisions, until you have
proved incompetent, and many of us will adhere to your decisions so long
as you will.”[226]
In these ways Brown was compelled to hurry and accordingly he urged his
eldest son, who replied: “Through those associations which I formed in
Canada, I am able to reach each individual member at the shortest notice
by letter. I am devoting my whole time to our company business. I shall
immediately go out organizing and raising funds. From what I even had
understood, I had supposed you would not think it best to commence
opening the coal banks before spring unless circumstances should make it
imperative. However, I suppose the reasons are satisfactory to you, and
if so, those who own smaller shares ought not to object. I hope we shall
be able to get on in season some of those old miners of whom I wrote
you. I shall strain every nerve to accomplish this. You may be assured
that what you say to me will reach those who may be benefited thereby,
and those who would take stock, in the shortest possible time; so don’t
fail to keep me posted.”[227]
As late as October 6th Brown expected to “move about the end of the
month” and made a hurried trip to Philadelphia. There he met a large
group of Negroes, and Dorsey the caterer with whom he stayed, at 1221
Locust Street, is said to have given him $300. In some way, he was
disappointed with the visit. Anderson says he went “on the business of
great importance. How important, men there and elsewhere now know. How
affected by, and affecting the main features of the enterprise, we at
the farm knew full after their return, as the old captain, in the
fullness of his overflowing, saddened heart, detailed point after point
of interest”[228] Perhaps he was still trying to persuade Douglass and
the leaders of the Philadelphia and New York groups.
The women left the farm late in September and O. P. Anderson, Copeland,
and Leary arrived. Merriam joined Brown while he was on the Philadelphia
trip and was sent to Baltimore to buy caps for the guns. Others were
coming when suddenly Brown fixed on October 17th as the date of the
raid. This hurried change was probably because officials and neighbors
were getting inquisitive, and arms were being removed from the arsenal
to man Southern stations. Yet it was unfortunate, as Anderson says:
“Could other parties, waiting for the word, have reached the
headquarters in time for the outbreak when it took place, the taking of
the armory, engine-house, and rifle factory, would have been quite
different. But the men at the farm had been so closely confined, that
they went out about the house and farm in the daytime during that week,
and so indiscreetly exposed their numbers to the prying neighbors, who
thereupon took steps to have a search instituted in the early part of
the coming week. Captain Brown was not seconded in another quarter, as
he expected, at the time of the action, but could the fears of the
neighbors have been allayed for a few days, the disappointment in the
former respect would not have been of much weight.”[229]
Only the nearest of the slaves round about who awaited the word could be
communicated with and several recruits like Hinton were left stranded on
the way, unable to get through in time. So the great day dawned: “On
Sunday morning, October 16th, Captain Brown arose earlier than usual,
and called his men down to worship. He read a chapter from the Bible,
applicable to the condition of the slaves, and our duty as their
brethren, and then offered up a fervent prayer to God to assist in the
liberation of the bondmen in that slaveholding land. The services were
impressive.”[230]
A council was held, over which O. P. Anderson, the colored man,
presided. In the afternoon the final orders were given and at night just
before setting out, John Brown said: “And now, gentlemen, let me impress
this one thing upon your minds. You all know how dear life is to you,
and how dear life is to your friends. And in remembering that, consider
that the lives of others areas dear to them as yours are to you. Do not,
therefore, take the life of anyone, if you can possibly avoid it, but if
it is necessary to take life to save your own, then make sure work of
it.”[231]