THE BLOW
“Woe unto them that call evil, good; and good, evil.”
“At eight o’clock on Sunday evening, Captain Brown said: ‘Men, get on
your arms; we will proceed to the Ferry.’ His horse and wagon were
brought out before the door, and some pikes, a sledge-hammer and a
crowbar were placed in it. The captain then put on his old Kansas cap,
and said: ‘Come, boys!’ when we marched out of the camp behind him, into
the lane leading down the hill to the main road.”[232]
The orders given commanded Owen Brown, Merriam and Barclay Coppoc to
watch the house and arms until ordered to bring them toward the Ferry.
Tidd and Cook were to cut the telegraph lines and Kagi and Stephens to
detain the bridge guard. Watson Brown and Taylor were to hold the bridge
over the Potomac, and Oliver Brown and William Thompson the bridge over
the Shenandoah. Jerry Anderson and Dauphin Thompson were to occupy the
engine-house in the arsenal yard, while Hazlett and Edwin Coppoc were to
hold the armory.
During the night Kagi and Copeland were to seize and guard the rifle
factory, and others were to go out in the country and bring in certain
masters and their slaves.
It was a cold dark night when the band started. Ahead was John Brown in
his one-horse farm-wagon, with pikes, a sledge-hammer and a crowbar.
Behind him marched the men silently and at intervals, Cook and Tidd
leading. They had five miles to go, over rolling hills and through woods
and then down to a narrow road between the cliffs and the Cincinnati and
Ohio canal. As they approached the railroad, Cook and Tidd cut the
telegraph wires which led to Baltimore and Washington. At the bridge
they halted and made ready their arms. At ten o’clock William Williams,
one of the watchmen there, was surprised to find himself a prisoner in
the hands of Kagi and Stevens, who took him through the covered
structure to the town, leaving Watson Brown and Steward Taylor to guard
the bridge. The rest of the company entered Harper’s Ferry.
The land between the rivers is itself high, though dwarfed by the
mountains and running down to a low point where the rivers join. At this
place the bridge leads to Maryland. After crossing the bridge to
Virginia, about sixty yards up the street, running parallel to the
Potomac, was the gate of the armory where the arms were made. On the
Shenandoah side about sixty yards from the armory gate is the arsenal,
where the arms were stored. The company proceeded to the armory gate.
The watchman tells how the place was captured:
“‘Open the gate,’ said they; I said, ‘I could not if I was stuck,’ and
one of them jumped up on the pier of the gate over my head, and another
fellow ran and put his hand on me and caught me by the coat and held me;
I was inside and they were outside, and the fellow standing over my head
upon the pier, and then when I would not open the gate for them, five or
six ran in from the wagon, clapped their guns against my breast, and
told me I should deliver up the key; I told them I could not; and
another fellow made an answer and said they had not time now to be
waiting for the key, but to go to the wagon and bring out the crowbar
and large hammer, and they would soon get in; they went to the little
wagon and brought a large crowbar out of it; there is a large chain
around the two sides of the wagon-gate going in; they twisted the
crowbar in the chain and they opened it, and in they ran and got in the
wagon; one fellow took me; they all gathered about me and looked in my
face; I was nearly scared to death with so many guns about me.”[233]
[Illustration: MAP OF HARPER’S FERRY, SHOWING POINTS FIGURING IN THE
RAID]
The two captured watchmen, Anderson says, “were left in the custody of
Jerry Anderson and Dauphin Thompson, and A. D. Stevens arranged the men
to take possession of the armory and rifle factory. About this time,
there was apparently much excitement. People were passing back and forth
in the town, and before we could do much, we had to take several
prisoners. After the prisoners were secured, we passed to the opposite
side of the street and took the armory, and Albert Hazlett and Edwin
Coppoc were ordered to hold it for the time being.”[234]
The other fourteen men quickly dispersed through the village. Oliver
Brown and William Thompson seized and guarded the bridge across the
Shenandoah. This bridge was sixty rods from the railway bridge up the
river and was the direct route to Loudoun Heights, the slave-filled
lower valley, and the Great Black Way. It was, however, not the only way
across the Shenandoah: a little more than half a mile farther up were
the rifle works, where the stream could be easily forded. Kagi and
Copeland went there, captured the watchman and took possession.
“These places were all taken, and the prisoners secured, without the
snap of a gun, or any violence whatever,” says Anderson, and he
continues: “The town being taken, Brown, Stevens, and the men who had no
post in charge, returned to the engine-house, where council was held,
after which Captain Stevens, Tidd, Cook, Shields Green, Leary and myself
went to the country. On the road we met some colored men, to whom we
made known our purpose, when they immediately agreed to join us. They
said they had been long waiting for an opportunity of the kind. Stevens
then asked them to go around among the colored people and circulate the
news, when each started off in a different direction. The result was
that many colored men gathered to the scene of action. The first
prisoner taken by us was Colonel Lewis Washington [a relative of George
Washington]. When we neared his house, Captain Stevens placed Leary and
Shields Green to guard the approaches to the house, the one at the side,
and the other in front. We then knocked, but no one answering, although
females were looking from upper windows, we entered the building and
commenced a search for the proprietor. Colonel Washington opened his
room door, and begged us not to kill him. Captain Stevens replied, ‘You
are our prisoner,’ when he stood as if speechless or petrified. Stevens
further told him to get ready to go to the Ferry; that he had come to
abolish slavery, not to take life but in self-defense, but that he must
go along. The colonel replied: ‘You can have my slaves, if you will let
me remain.’ ‘No,’ said the captain, ‘you must go along too; so get
ready.’”[235]
He and his male slaves were thus taken, together with a large four-horse
wagon and some arms, including the Lafayette sword. Away the party went
and after capturing another planter and his slaves, arrived at the Ferry
before daybreak.
Meantime the citizens of the Ferry, returning late from protracted
Methodist meeting, were being taken prisoners and about one o’clock in
the morning the east-bound Baltimore and Ohio train arrived. This was
detained and the local colored porter shot dead by Brown’s guards on the
bridge. The passengers were greatly excited, but at first thought it was
a strike of some kind. After sunrise the train was allowed to proceed,
John Brown himself walking ahead across the bridge to reassure the
conductor. So Monday, October 17th, began and Anderson says it “was a
time of stirring and exciting events. In consequence of the movements of
the night before, we were prepared for commotion and tumult, but
certainly not for more than we beheld around us. Gray dawn and yet
brighter daylight revealed great confusion, and as the sun arose, the
panic spread like wild-fire. Men, women and children could be seen
leaving their homes in every direction; some seeking refuge among
residents, and in quarters further away; others climbing up the
hillsides, and hurrying off in various directions, evidently impelled by
a sudden fear, which was plainly visible in their countenances or in
their movements.
“Captain Brown was all activity, though I could not help thinking that
at times he appeared somewhat puzzled. He ordered Lewis Sherrard Leary
and four slaves, and a free man belonging in the neighborhood, to join
John Henry Kagi and John Copeland at the rifle factory, which they
immediately did.... After the departure of the train, quietness
prevailed for a short time; a number of prisoners were already in the
engine-house, and of the many colored men living in the neighborhood,
who had assembled in the town, a number were armed.”[236]
Up to this point everything in John Brown’s plan had worked like
clockwork, and there had been but one death. The armory was captured,
from twenty-five to fifty slaves had been armed, several masters were in
custody and the next move was to get the arms and ammunition from the
farm. Cook says that when the party returned from the country at dawn,
“I stayed a short while in the engine-house to get warm, as I was
chilled through. After I got warm, Captain Brown ordered me to go with
C. P. Tidd, who was to take William H. Leeman, and, I think, four slaves
[Anderson says fourteen slaves] with him, in Colonel Washington’s large
wagon, across the river, and to take Terrence Burns and his brother and
their slaves prisoners. My orders were to hold Burns and brother as
prisoners at their own house, while Tidd and the slaves who accompanied
him were to go to Captain Brown’s house and to load in arms and bring
them down to the schoolhouse, stopping for the Burnses and their guard.
William H. Leeman remained with me to guard the prisoners. On return of
the wagon, in compliance with orders, we all started for the
schoolhouse. When we got there, I was to remain, by Captain Brown’s
orders, with one of the slaves to guard the arms, while C. P. Tidd, with
the other Negroes, was to go back for the rest of the arms, and Burns
was to be sent with William H. Leeman to Captain Brown at the armory. It
was at this time that William Thompson came up from the Ferry and
reported that everything was all right, and then hurried on to overtake
William H. Leeman. A short time after the departure of Tidd, I heard a
good deal of firing and became anxious to know the cause, but my orders
were strict to remain in the schoolhouse and guard the arms, and I
obeyed the orders to the letter. About four o’clock in the evening C. P.
Tidd came with the second load.”[237]
Here, in all probability, was the fatal hitch. The farm was not over
three miles from the schoolhouse, and there was a heavy farm-wagon with
four large strong horses and a dozen men or more to help. The fact that
it took these men eleven hours to move two wagon-loads of material less
than three miles is the secret of the extraordinary failure of Brown’s
foray at a time when victory was in his grasp. That Cook was needlessly
dilatory in the moving is certain. He sat down in Byrnes’s house and
made a speech on human equality. Then Tidd went on to the farm with the
wagon and brought a load of arms, which he deposited at the point where
the Kennedy farm road meets the Potomac almost at right angles, about
three miles or less from the Ferry. The schoolhouse stood here and the
children were frightened half to death. Cook stopped at this place and
unloaded the wagon, and then Leeman went with Byrnes to the guard-house,
lingering and actually sitting beside the road. Even then they arrived
before ten o’clock. With haste it is certain that, despite the muddy
road, the first load of arms could have been at the schoolhouse before
eight o’clock in the morning, and the whole of the stores by ten
o’clock. That Brown expected this is shown by his sending William
Thompson to reassure the men at the farm of his safety and probably to
urge haste; yet when the second load of arms appeared, it was four
o’clock in the afternoon, at least three hours after Brown had been
completely surrounded. Judging from Cook’s narrative, it is likely that
Thompson did not see Tidd at all. It was this inexcusable delay on the
part of Tidd and Cook and, possibly, William Thompson that undoubtedly
made the raid a failure. To be sure, John Brown never said so—never
hinted that any one was to blame but himself. But that was John Brown’s
way.
Events in the town had moved quickly. After Cook had departed, Brown
ordered O. P. Anderson “to take the pikes out of the wagon in which he
rode to the Ferry, and to place them in the hands of the colored men who
had come with us from the plantations, and others who had come forward
without having had communication with any of our party.”[238]
The citizens were “wild with fright and excitement.... The prisoners
were also terror-stricken. Some wanted to go home to see their families,
as if for the last time. The privilege was granted them, under escort,
and they were brought back again. Edwin Coppoc, one of the sentinels at
the armory gate, was fired at by one of the citizens, but the ball did
not reach him, when one of the insurgents close by put up his rifle, and
made the enemy bite the dust. Among the arms taken from Colonel
Washington was one double-barreled gun. This weapon was loaded by Leeman
with buckshot, and placed in the hands of an elderly slave man, early in
the morning. After the cowardly charge upon Coppoc, this old man was
ordered by Captain Stevens to arrest a citizen. The old man ordered him
to halt, which he refused to do, when instantly the terrible load was
discharged into him, and he fell, and expired without a struggle.”[239]
The next step which John Brown had in mind is unknown, but there were
two safe movements at 9 A. M. Monday morning:
(_a_) The arms could have been brought across the Potomac bridge and
then across the Shenandoah, and so up Londoun Heights. The men from the
Maryland side could have joined, and Brown and his men covered their
retreat by compelling the hostages to march with them. Kagi and his men,
by wading the Shenandoah, could have supported them.
(_b_) The arms could have been taken down to the Potomac from the
schoolhouse, ferried across and moved over to Kagi. Brown and his men
could have joined the party there and all retreated up Loudoun Heights.
From the fact that Brown had the arms stopped at the schoolhouse, this
seems probably to have been the thought in his mind.
On the other hand, the plan usually attributed to Brown is unthinkable;
viz., that he intended retreating across the Potomac into the Maryland
mountains. First, he had just come out of the Maryland mountains and had
moved down his arms and ammunition; and second, this manœuvre would have
cut his band off from the Great Black Way to the South unless he
captured the Ferry a second time. Manifestly this, then, was not Brown’s
idea. It has, however, been suggested that the arms had been moved down
to the schoolhouse to be placed in the hands of slaves there. But why
were they left on the Maryland side? In the whole Maryland country west
of the mountains were less than a thousand able-bodied Negroes, of whom
not a tenth could have been cognizant of the uprising, while Brown had
arms for 1,200 men or more. No, Brown intended to move the arms in bulk.
He had perhaps a ton, or a ton and a half of baggage. He wished it moved
first to the schoolhouse, and then if all was well to the Ferry, or
straight across to the mountains. Cook started before five o’clock in
the morning, and Brown no doubt expected to hear that the arms were at
the schoolhouse by ten. At eleven o’clock he dispatched William Thompson
to Kennedy farm. Anderson thinks that Thompson’s message made the farm
party even more leisurely because it told of success so far. This is
surely impossible. The veriest tyro must have known that minutes were
golden despite the tremendous fortune of the expedition. Did Thompson
misapprehend his message? Was the delay Tidd’s and what was Owen Brown
thinking and doing? It is a curious puzzle, but it is the puzzle of the
foray. If the party with the arms had arrived at the bridge any time
before noon, the raid would have been successful. Even as it was, Brown
still had three courses open to him, all of which promised a measure of
success:
(_a_) He could have gotten his band and crossed back to
Maryland,—although this meant the abandonment of the main features of
his whole plan. As time waned Stevens and Kagi urged this but Brown
refused.
(_b_) He could have gone to Loudoun Heights, but this would have
involved abandoning his arms and stores and above all, one of his sons,
Cook, Tidd, Merriam, Coppoc and the slaves. This was unthinkable.
(_c_) He could have used his hostages to force terms. For not doing this
he afterward repeatedly blamed himself, but characteristically blamed no
one else for anything.
Meantime every minute of delay aroused the country and brought the
citizens to their senses. “The train that left Harper’s Ferry carried a
panic to Virginia, Maryland and Washington with it. The passengers,
taking all the paper they could find, wrote accounts of the
insurrection, which they threw from the windows as the train rushed
onward.”[240]
A local physician says: “I went back to the hillside then, and tried to
get the citizens together, to see what we could do to get rid of these
fellows. They seemed to be very troublesome. When I got on the hill I
learned that they had shot Boerly. That was probably about seven
o’clock.... I had ordered the Lutheran church bell to be rung to get the
citizens together to see what sort of arms they had. I found one or two
squirrel rifles and a few shotguns. I had sent a messenger to
Charlestown in the meantime for Captain Rowan, commander of a volunteer
company there. I also sent messengers to the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad
to stop the trains coming east, and not let them approach the Ferry, and
also a messenger to Shepherdstown.”[241]
Another eye-witness adds: “There was unavoidable delay in the
preparations for a fight, because of the scarcity of weapons; for only a
few squirrel guns and fowling-pieces could be found. There were then at
Harper’s Ferry thousands and tens of thousands of muskets and rifles of
the most approved patterns, but they were all boxed up in the arsenal,
and the arsenal was in the hands of the enemy. And such, too, was the
scarcity of the ammunition that, after using up the limited supply of
lead found in the village stores, pewter plates and spoons had to be
melted and molded into bullets for the occasion.
“By nine o’clock a number of indifferently armed citizens assembled on
Camp Hill and decided that the party, consisting of half a dozen men,
should cross the Potomac a short distance above the Ferry, and, going
down the tow-path of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal as far as the railway
bridge, should attack the two sentinels stationed there, who, by the
way, had been reënforced by four more of Brown’s party. Another small
party under Captain Medler was to cross the Shenandoah and take position
opposite the rifle works, while Captain Avis, with a sufficient force,
should take possession of the Shenandoah bridge, and Captain Roderick,
with some of the armorers, should post themselves on the Baltimore and
Ohio Railway west of the Ferry just above the armories.”[242]
At last the militia commenced to arrive and the movements to cut off
Brown’s men began. The Jefferson Guards crossed the Potomac, came down
to the Maryland side and seized the Potomac bridge. The local company
was sent to take the Shenandoah bridge, leave a guard and march to the
rear of the arsenal, while another local company was to seize the houses
in front of the arsenal.
“As strangers poured in,” says Anderson, “the enemy took positions round
about, so as to prevent any escape, within shooting distance of the
engine-house and arsenal. Captain Brown, seeing their manœuvres, said,
‘We will hold on to our three positions, if they are unwilling to come
to terms, and die like men.’”[243]
The attack came at noon from the Jefferson Guards, who started across
the Potomac bridge from Maryland. This is Anderson’s story:
“It was about twelve o’clock in the day when we were first attacked by
the troops. Prior to that, Captain Brown, in anticipation of further
trouble, had girded to his side the famous sword taken from Colonel
Lewis Washington the night before, and with that memorable weapon, he
commanded his men against General Washington’s own state. When the
captain received the news that the troops had entered the bridge from
the Maryland side, he, with some of his men, went into the street, and
sent a message to the arsenal for us to come forth also. We hastened to
the street as ordered, when he said—‘The troops are on the bridge,
coming into town; we will give them a warm reception.’ He then walked
around amongst us, giving us words of encouragement, in this wise:—‘Men!
be cool! Don’t waste your powder and shot! Take aim, and make every shot
count!’ ‘The troops will look for us to retreat on their first
appearance; be careful to shoot first.’ Our men were well supplied with
firearms, but Captain Brown had no rifle at that time; his only weapon
was the sword before mentioned.
“The troops soon came out of the bridge, and up the street facing us, we
occupying an irregular position. When they got within sixty or seventy
yards, Captain Brown said, ‘Let go upon them!’ which we did, when
several of them fell. Again and again the dose was repeated. There was
now consternation among the troops. From marching in solid martial
columns, they became scattered. Some hastened to seize upon and bear up
the wounded and dying,—several lay dead upon the ground. They seemed not
to realize, at first, that we would fire upon them, but evidently
expected that we would be driven out by them without firing. Captain
Brown seemed fully to understand the matter, and hence, very properly
and in our defense, undertook to forestall their movements. The
consequence of their unexpected reception was, after leaving several of
their dead on the field, they beat a confused retreat into the bridge,
and there stayed under cover until reinforcements came to the Ferry. On
the retreat of the troops, we were ordered back to our former
posts.”[244]
At this time the Negro, Newby, was killed and his assailant shot in turn
by Green. Two slaves also died fighting. Now “there was comparative
quiet for a time, except that the citizens seemed to be wild with
terror. Men, women and children forsook the place in great haste,
climbing up hillsides, and scaling the mountains. The latter seemed to
be alive with white fugitives, fleeing from their doomed city. During
this time, William Thompson, who was returning from his errand to the
Kennedy farm, was surrounded on the bridge by railroad men, who next
came up, and taken a prisoner to the Wager house.”[245]
It was now one o’clock in the day and while things were going against
Brown, his cause was not desperate. His Maryland men might yet attack
the disorganized Jefferson Guards in the rear and the arsenal was full
of hostages. But militia and citizens kept pouring into the town and by
three o’clock “could be seen coming from every direction.” Kagi sent
word to Brown, urging retreat; but Brown faced a difficult dilemma:
Should he go to Loudoun Heights and lose half his men and all his
munitions? or should he retreat to Maryland? This latter path lay open,
he was sure, by means of his hostages. Meantime the Maryland party might
appear at any moment. Indeed, the Jefferson Guards had once been
mistaken for them. On this account the message was sent back to Kagi “to
hold out for a few minutes, when we would all evacuate the place.” Still
the Maryland party lingered with the stubborn Tidd somewhere up the
road, and Cook idly kicking his heels at the schoolhouse.
The messenger, Jerry Anderson, was fired on and mortally wounded before
he reached Kagi, and the latter’s party was attacked by a large force
and driven into the river.
“The river at that point runs rippling over a rocky bed,” writes a
Virginian, “and at ordinary stages of the water is easily forded. The
raiders, finding their retreat to the opposite shore intercepted by
Medler’s men, made for a large flat rock near the middle of the stream.
Before reaching it, however, Kagi fell and died in the water, apparently
without a struggle. Four others reached the rock, where, for a while,
they made an ineffectual stand, returning the fire of the citizens. But
it was not long before two of them were killed outright and another
prostrated by a mortal wound, leaving Copeland, a mulatto, standing
alone unharmed upon their rock of refuge.
“Thereupon, a Harper’s Ferry man, James H. Holt, dashed into the river,
gun in hand, to capture Copeland, who, as he approached him, made a show
of fight by pointing his gun at Holt, who halted and leveled his; but,
to the surprise of the lookers-on, neither of their weapons were
discharged, both having been rendered temporarily useless, as I
afterward learned, from being wet. Holt, however, as he again advanced,
continued to snap his gun, while Copeland did the same.”[246]
Copeland was taken alive and Leeman, with a second message from Kagi to
Brown, was killed. Matters were now getting desperate, but the armory
was full of prisoners and therein lay John Brown’s final hope. Easily as
a last resort he could use these citizens as a screen and so escape to
the mountains. In attempting this, however, some of the prisoners were
bound to be killed and Brown hesitated at sacrificing innocent blood to
save himself. He thought that the same end might be accomplished by
negotiation. His first move, therefore, was to withdraw all his force
and the important prisoners to a small brick building near the armory
gate called the “engine-house.” Captain Daingerfield, one of the
prisoners, says: “He entered the engine-house, carrying his prisoners
along, or rather part of them, for he made selections. After getting
into the engine-house he made this speech: ‘Gentlemen, perhaps you
wonder why I have selected you from the others. It is because I believe
you to be the most influential; and I have only to say now, that you
will have to share precisely the same fate that your friends extend to
my men.’ He began at once to bar the doors and windows, and to cut
port-holes through the brick wall.”[247]
This evident weakening of the raiders let pandemonium loose. The
citizens realized how small a force Brown had and were filled with fury
at his presumption. His men began to fight desperately for their lives.
“About the time when Brown immured himself,” a narrator reports, “a
company of Berkeley County militia arrived from Martinsburg who, with
some citizens of Harper’s Ferry and the surrounding country, made a rush
on the armory and released the great mass of the prisoners outside of
the engine-house, not, however, without suffering some loss from a
galling fire kept up by the enemy from ‘the fort.’”[248]
This released the arms and one of the Virginia watchmen says: “The
people, who came pouring into town, broke into liquor saloons, filled
up, and then got into the arsenal, arming themselves with United States
guns and ammunition. They kept shooting at random and howling.”[249]
The prisoners within the engine-house heard “a terrible firing from
without, at every point from which the windows could be seen, and in a
few minutes every window was shattered, and hundreds of balls came
through the doors. These shots were answered from within whenever the
attacking party could be seen. This was kept up most of the day, and,
strange to say, not a prisoner was hurt, though thousands of balls were
imbedded in the walls, and holes shot in the doors almost large enough
for a man to creep through.”[250]
The doomed raiders saw “volley upon volley” discharged, while “the
echoes from the hills, the shrieks of the townspeople, and the groans of
their wounded and dying, all of which filled the air, were truly
frightful.” Yet “no powder and ball were wasted. We shot from under
cover, and took deadly aim. For an hour before the flag of truce was
sent out, the firing was uninterrupted, and one and another of the enemy
were constantly dropping to the earth.”[251]
Oliver Brown was shot and died without a word and Taylor was mortally
wounded. The mayor of the city ventured out, unarmed, to reconnoitre and
was killed. Immediately the son of Andrew Hunter, who afterward was
state’s attorney against Brown, rushed into the hotel after the prisoner
William Thompson:
“We burst into the room where he was, and found several around him, but
they offered only a feeble resistance; we brought our guns down to his
head repeatedly,—myself and another person,—for the purpose of shooting
him in the room.
“There was a young lady there, the sister of Mr. Fouke, the
hotel-keeper, who sat in this man’s lap, covered his face with her arms,
and shielded him with her person whenever we brought our guns to bear.
She said to us, ‘For God’s sake, wait and let the law take its course.’
My associate shouted to kill him. ‘Let us shed his blood,’ were his
words. All round were shouting, ‘Mr. Beckham’s life was worth ten
thousand of these vile Abolitionists.’ I was cool about it, and
deliberate. My gun was pushed by some one who seized the barrel, and I
then moved to the back part of the room, still with purpose unchanged,
but with a view to divert attention from me, in order to get an
opportunity, at some moment when the crowd would be less dense, to shoot
him. After a moment’s thought it occurred to me that that was not the
proper place to kill him. We then proposed to take him out and hang him.
Some portion of our band then opened a way to him, and first pushing
Miss Fouke aside, we slung him out-of-doors. I gave him a push, and many
others did the same. We then shoved him along the platform and down to
the trestle work of the bridge; he begged for his life all the time,
very piteously at first.”[252]
Thus he was shot to death as he crawled in the trestle work. The
prisoners in the engine-house now urged Brown to make terms with the
citizens, representing that this was possible and that he and his men
could escape. Brown sent out his son Watson with a white flag, but the
maddened citizens paid no attention to it and shot him down. A lull in
the fighting came a little later, and Stevens took a second flag of
truce, but was captured and held prisoner. Daingerfield says:
“At night the firing ceased, for we were in total darkness, and nothing
could be seen in the engine-house. During the day and night I talked
much with Brown. I found him as brave as a man could be, and sensible
upon all subjects except slavery. He believed it was his duty to free
the slaves, even if in doing so he lost his own life. During a sharp
fight one of Brown’s sons was killed. He fell; then trying to raise
himself, he said, ‘It is all over with me,’ and died instantly. Brown
did not leave his post at the port-hole; but when the fighting was over
he walked to his son’s body, straightened out his limbs, took off his
trappings, and then, turning to me, said, ‘This is the third son I have
lost in this cause.’ Another son had been shot in the morning, and was
then dying, having been brought in from the street. Often during the
affair at the engine-house, when his men would want to fire upon some
one who might be seen passing, Brown would stop them, saying, ‘Don’t
shoot; that man is unarmed.’ The firing was kept up by our men all day
and until late at night, and during this time several of his men were
killed, but none of the prisoners were hurt, though in great danger.
During the day and night many propositions, pro and con, were made,
looking to Brown’s surrender and the release of the prisoners, but
without result.”[253]
Another eye-witness says:
“A little before night Brown asked if any of his captives would
volunteer to go out among the citizens and induce them to cease firing
on the fort, as they were endangering the lives of their friends—the
prisoners. He promised on his part that, if there was no more firing on
his men, there should be none by them on the besiegers. Mr. Israel
Russel undertook the dangerous duty; the risk arose from the excited
state of the people who would be likely to fire on anything seen
stirring around the prison-house, and the citizens were persuaded to
stop firing in consideration of the danger incurred of injuring the
prisoners....
“It was now dark and the wildest excitement existed in the town,
especially among the friends of the killed, wounded and prisoners of the
citizens’ party. It had rained some little all day and the atmosphere
was raw and cold. Now, a cloudy and moonless sky hung like a pall over
the scene of war, and, on the whole, a more dismal night cannot be
imagined. Guards were stationed round the engine-house to prevent
Brown’s escape and, as forces were constantly arriving from Winchester,
Frederick City, Baltimore and other places to help the Harper’s Ferry
people, the town soon assumed quite a military appearance. The United
States authorities in Washington had been notified in the meantime, and,
in the course of the night, Colonel Robert E. Lee, afterward the famous
General Lee of the Southern Confederacy, arrived with a force of United
States marines, to protect the interests of the government, and kill or
capture the invaders.”[254]
Meantime Cook had awakened to the fact that something was wrong. He left
Tidd at the schoolhouse and started toward the Ferry; finding it
surrounded, he fired one volley from a tree and fled. He found no one at
the schoolhouse, but met Tidd, and the whole farm guard, and one Negro
on the road beyond. They all turned and fled north, Tidd and Cook
quarreling. They wandered fourteen days in rain and snow, and finally
all escaped except Cook who went into a town for food and was arrested.
Robert E. Lee, with 100 marines, arrived just before midnight on Monday
and one of the prisoners tells the story of the last stand:
“When Colonel Lee came with the government troops in the night, he at
once sent a flag of truce by his aid, J. E. B. Stuart, to notify Brown
of his arrival, and in the name of the United States to demand his
surrender, advising him to throw himself on the clemency of the
government. Brown declined to accept Colonel Lee’s terms, and determined
to await the attack. When Stuart was admitted and a light brought, he
exclaimed, ‘Why, aren’t you old Osawatomie Brown of Kansas, whom I once
had there as my prisoner?’ ‘Yes,’ was the answer, ‘but you did not keep
me.’ This was the first intimation we had of Brown’s real name. When
Colonel Lee advised Brown to trust to the clemency of the government,
Brown responded that he knew what that meant,—a rope for his men and
himself; adding, ‘I prefer to die just here.’ Stuart told him he would
return at early morning for his final reply, and left him. When he had
gone, Brown at once proceeded to barricade the doors, windows, etc.,
endeavoring to make the place as strong as possible. All this time no
one of Brown’s men showed the slightest fear, but calmly awaited the
attack, selecting the best situations to fire from, and arranging their
guns and pistols so that a fresh one could be taken up as soon as one
was discharged....
“When Lieutenant Stuart came in the morning for the final reply to the
demand to surrender, I got up and went to Brown’s side to hear his
answer. Stuart asked, ‘Are you ready to surrender, and trust to the
mercy of the government?’ Brown answered, ‘No, I prefer to die here.’
His manner did not betray the least alarm. Stuart stepped aside and made
a signal for the attack, which was instantly begun with sledge-hammers
to break down the door. Finding it would not yield, the soldiers seized
a long ladder for a battering-ram, and commenced beating the door with
that, the party within firing incessantly. I had assisted in the
barricading, fixing the fastenings so that I could remove them on the
first effort to get in. But I was not at the door when the battering
began, and could not get to the fastenings till the ladder was used. I
then quickly removed the fastenings; and, after two or three strokes of
the ladder, the engine rolled partially back, making a small aperture,
through which Lieutenant Green of the marines forced his way, jumped on
top of the engine, and stood a second, amidst a shower of balls, looking
for John Brown. When he saw Brown, he sprang about twelve feet at him,
giving an under-thrust of his sword, striking Brown about midway the
body, and raising him completely from the ground. Brown fell forward,
with his head between his knees, while Green struck him several times
over the head, and, as I then supposed, split his skull at every stroke.
I was not two feet from Brown at that time. Of course, I got out of the
building as soon as possible, and did not know till some time later that
Brown was not killed. It seems that Green’s sword, in making the thrust,
struck Brown’s belt and did not penetrate the body. The sword was bent
double. The reason that Brown was not killed when struck on the head
was, that Green was holding his sword in the middle, striking with the
hilt, and making only scalp wounds.”[255]
After the attack on the troops at the bridge, Brown had ordered O. P.
Anderson, Hazlett and Green back to the arsenal. But Green saw the
desperate strait of Brown and chose voluntarily to go into the
engine-house and fight until the last. Anderson and Hazlett, when they
saw the door battered in, went to the back of the arsenal, climbed the
wall and fled along the railway that goes up the Shenandoah. Here in the
cliffs they had a skirmish with the troops but finally escaped in the
night, crossed the town and the Potomac and so got into Maryland and
went to the farm. It was deserted and pillaged. Then they came back to
the schoolhouse and found that empty. In the morning they heard firing
and Anderson’s narrative continues:
“Hazlett thought it must be Owen Brown and his men trying to force their
way into the town, as they had been informed that a number of us had
been taken prisoners, and we started down along the ridge to join them.
When we got in sight of the Ferry, we saw the troops firing across the
river to the Maryland side with considerable spirit. Looking closely, we
saw, to our surprise, that they were firing upon a few of the colored
men, who had been armed the day before by our men, at the Kennedy farm,
and stationed down at the schoolhouse by C. P. Tidd. They were in the
bushes on the edge of the mountains, dodging about, occasionally
exposing themselves to the enemy. The troops crossed the bridge in
pursuit of them, but they retreated in different directions. Being
further in the mountains, and more secure, we could see without personal
harm befalling us. One of the colored men came toward where we were,
when we hailed him, and inquired the particulars. He said that one of
his comrades had been shot, and was lying on the side of the mountains;
that they thought the men who had armed them the day before must be in
the Ferry. That opinion, we told him, was not correct. We asked him to
join with us in hunting up the rest of the party, but he declined, and
went his way.
“While we were in this part of the mountains, some of the troops went to
the schoolhouse, and took possession of it. On our return along up the
ridge, from our position, screened by the bushes, we could see them as
they invested it. Our last hope of shelter, or of meeting our
companions, now being destroyed, we concluded to make our escape
north.”[256]
Anderson managed to get away, but Hazlett was captured in Pennsylvania
and was returned to Virginia. Thus John Brown’s raid ended. Seven of the
men—John Brown himself, Shields Green, Edwin Coppoc, Stevens and
Copeland and eventually Cook and Hazlett—were captured and hanged.
Watson and Oliver Brown, the two Thompsons, Kagi, Jerry Anderson,
Taylor, Newby, Leary, and John Anderson, ten in all, were killed in the
fight, and six others—Owen Brown, Tidd, Leeman, Barclay Coppoc, Merriam
and O. Anderson escaped.
At high noon on Tuesday, October 18th, the raid was over. John Brown lay
wounded and bloodstained on the floor and the governor of Virginia bent
over him.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is John Brown; I have been well known as old John Brown of
Kansas. Two of my sons were killed here to-day, and I’m dying too. I
came here to liberate slaves, and was to receive no reward. I have acted
from a sense of duty, and am content to await my fate; but I think the
crowd have treated me badly. I am an old man. Yesterday I could have
killed whom I chose; but I had no desire to kill any person, and would
not have killed a man had they not tried to kill me and my men. I could
have sacked and burned the town, but did not; I have treated the persons
whom I took as hostages kindly, and I appeal to them for the truth of
what I say. If I had succeeded in running off slaves this time, I could
have raised twenty times as many men as I have now, for a similar
expedition. But I have failed.”[257]