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    THE STRANGE STORY OF
    HARPER'S FERRY

    WITH LEGENDS OF
    THE SURROUNDING COUNTRY

    BY

    JOSEPH BARRY

    A resident of the place for half a century


    PRINTING HISTORY

    1st Printing By Thompson Brothers, Martinsburg, W. Va.          1903

    2nd Printing Published By The Woman's Club of Harpers Ferry District
    (Printed By The Shepherdstown Register, Inc.,
    Shepherdstown, W. Va.)                                          1958

    3rd Printing Published By The Woman's Club of Harpers Ferry District
    (Printed By The Shepherdstown Register, Inc.,
    Shepherdstown, W. Va.)                                          1959

    4th Printing Published By The Woman's Club of Harpers Ferry District
    (Printed By The Shepherdstown Register, Inc.,
    Shepherdstown, W. Va.)                                          1964

    5th Printing Published By The Woman's Club of Harpers Ferry District
    (Printed By The Shepherdstown Register, Inc.,
    Shepherdstown, W. Va.)                                          1967

    6th Printing Published By The Woman's Club of Harpers Ferry District
    (Printed By The Shepherdstown Register, Inc.,
    Shepherdstown, W. Va.)                                          1969


    Copyright, 1903, by
    JOSEPH BARRY




PREFACE


The =real story= of Harper's Ferry is sad, and but little less wild and
romantic than the old-time legends that abound in the long settled
country around. The =facts= of the story we give with scrupulous
=exactness=. We, ourselves, have witnessed many of the most important
incidents narrated and, for what happened before our time, we have the
evidence of old settlers of the highest character and veracity.

The =legends= are =consistent=, even though they may have no other claim on
our consideration. They never have more than one version, although one
narrator may give more facts than another. The narratives never
=contradict= one another in any material way, which goes to show that
there was a time when everybody around believed the main facts.

    THE AUTHOR.


[Illustration: JOHN BROWN'S FORT]




THE STRANGE STORY OF HARPER'S FERRY




CHAPTER I.


Harper's Ferry, including Bolivar, is a town which, before the war of
the late rebellion, contained a population of about three
thousand--nine-tenths of whom were whites. At the breaking out of
hostilities nearly all the inhabitants left their homes--some casting
their lots with "the confederacy" and about an equal number with the old
government. On the restoration of peace, comparatively few of them
returned. A great many <DW52> people, however, who came at various
times with the armies from southern Virginia, have remained, so that the
proportion of the races at the place is materially changed. Also, many
soldiers of the national army who married Virginia ladies, during the
war, have settled there and, consequently, the town yet contains a
considerable number of inhabitants. The present population may be set
down at sixteen hundred whites and seven hundred blacks. The village is
situated in Jefferson county, now West Virginia, at the confluence of
the Potomac and the Shenandoah, at the base and in the very shadow of
the Blue Ridge Mountain. The distance from Washington City is fifty-five
miles, and from Baltimore eighty-one miles. The Baltimore and Ohio
railroad crosses the Potomac, at the place, on a magnificent bridge and
the Winchester and Potomac railroad, now absorbed by the Baltimore and
Ohio, has its northern terminus in the town. The Chesapeake and Ohio
canal, also, is in the immediate neighborhood. Within the last twelve
years, the place has become a favorite summer resort for the people of
Washington City and, from about the first of June to the last of
October, it is visited by tourists from every part of the northern
states and Europe.

The scenery around the place is celebrated for its grandeur, and Thomas
Jefferson has immortalized it in a fine description composed, it is
said, on a remarkable rock that commands a magnificent view of both
rivers and their junction. The rock itself is a wonderful freak of
Nature and it is regarded by the inhabitants with pride for its being a
great natural curiosity, and with veneration on account of the tradition
among them that, seated on it, Jefferson wrote his "Notes on Virginia."
It is, therefore, called "Jefferson's Rock." It is composed of several
huge masses of stone, piled on one another (although the whole is
regarded as one rock) the upper piece resting on a foundation, some
years ago, so narrow that it might easily be made to sway back and forth
by a child's hand. It is supported now, however, by pillars placed under
it, by order of one of the old armory superintendents, the original
foundation having dwindled to very unsafe dimensions by the action of
the weather, and still more, by the devastations of tourists and
curiosity-hunters. It is situated on the south side of "Cemetery Hill,"
behind the Catholic church, the lofty and glittering spire of which can
be seen at a great distance, as you approach from the East, adding much
beauty to the scene. The first church building there was erected in 1833
by Father Gildea. In 1896 the old edifice was torn down and a beautiful
one substituted, under the supervision of the Rev. Laurence Kelley.
There can be no doubt that =this= church, at least, is "built on a
rock," for there is not soil enough anywhere near it to plant a few
flowers around the House of Worship or the parsonage, and the worthy
Fathers have been obliged to haul a scanty supply from a considerable
distance to nourish two or three rosebushes. If "The Gates of Hell" try
to prevail against =this= institution they had better assault from
above. There will be no chance for attacking the foundation, for it is
solid rock, extending, no one knows how far, into the bowels of the
earth or through them, perhaps, all the way to the supposed location of
those terrible gates themselves.

On one side, the Maryland Heights, now so famous in history and, on the
other, the Loudoun Heights rise majestically, and imagination might
easily picture them as guardian giants defending the portals of the
noble Valley of Virginia. The Maryland Heights ascend in successive
plateaus to an altitude of thirteen hundred feet above the surrounding
country, and two thousand feet above the level of the sea. The Loudoun
Heights are not so lofty, but the ascent to them is difficult and,
consequently, as the foot of man seldom treads them, they present the
appearance of a more marked primeval wildness than the Maryland
mountain--a circumstance which compensates the tourist for their
inferiority in height. Between these two ramparts, in a gorge of savage
grandeur, the lordly Potomac takes to his embrace the beautiful
Shenandoah--"The Daughter of the Stars," as the Indians poetically
styled this lovely stream. It will be seen, hereafter, however, that
this usually serene and amiable damsel, like the daughters of men, is
subject to occasional "spells" of perversity, and that, when she =does=
take a tantrum she makes things lively around her. The former river
rises in western Virginia and, tumbling from the Alleghany Mountains in
an impetuous volume, traverses the northern extremity of the Valley of
Virginia, forming the boundary between "The Old Dominion" and the State
of Maryland. At Harper's Ferry it encounters the Blue Ridge, at right
angles, and receives the tributary Shenandoah which, rising in the upper
part of the great valley, flows in a northerly course, at the base of
the same mountain, and unites its strength with the Potomac to cut a
passage to the Ocean. This is the scenery of which Jefferson said that a
sight of it was worth a voyage across the Atlantic, and no person with
the least poetry in his soul will consider the praise extravagant. It
is, truly, a sublime spectacle and imagination, when allowed to do so,
lends its aid to the really wonderful sublimity of the scene. On the
rugged cliffs, on both the Maryland and Loudoun sides are supposed to be
seen, sculptured by the hand of Nature, various shapes and faces, the
appearance of which changes with the seasons and as they are concealed
more or less by the verdure of the trees. The giant, dwarf, centaur and
almost every other animal of Nature or of Fable are here portrayed to
the eye of Faith. On one rock, on the Maryland side, is a tolerably well
defined face with an expression of gravity which, with some other points
of resemblance, will remind one of George Washington, and, at almost any
hour of any day, may be seen strangers gazing intently on the mountain
in search of this likeness. Frequently, the Bald Eagle wheels in
majestic circles immediately above this rock and, then, indeed, the
illusion is too agreeable to be rejected by the most prosaic spectator.
George Washington, chiseled by the hand of Nature in the living rock, on
the summit of the Blue Ridge, with the Bird of Victory fanning his brow,
is too much poetry to be thrown away and common sense matter of fact is
out of the question. Of late years, a new feature has been added to the
scene which gives it quite an alpine appearance. Shortly after our civil
war, a man named Reid, who then lived at the foot of the Maryland
Heights, procured a few goats for the amusement of his children. The
goats multiplied rapidly and gradually spread up the side of the
mountain, where their opportunities for mischief in gnawing the bark of
trees and for avoiding the attacks of dogs were practically unlimited.
Their number is now Legion and they frequently gather in great crowds on
the overhanging rocks, always in charge of a dignified old buck, with a
patriarchal beard, and look down placidly and, may be, with contempt on
the busy hive of men below. Perhaps, the old buck often thinks, "'What
fools those two legged mortals be.' They call themselves Lords of the
creation and claim to own us, free sons of the mountain, and even our
neighbor, the eagle, but I would like to see one of them climb up the
face of this cliff and jump from crag to crag as the feeblest of =my=
clan can do. There they go crawling along, and when one of them wants to
travel a few miles he must purchase a railroad ticket for a point to
which my friend, the eagle, could arrive in a few dozen flaps of his
wings without the care and trouble of baggage or the fear of a run-in or
a collision." Such may be and such, it is to be feared, =ought= to be,
the reflections of that old buck.

Before the war, the Loudoun Heights used to be the favorite roosting
place of immense numbers of crows that, during the autumn and winter
foraged all over the Shenandoah Valley and all the rich grain lands east
of the Blue Ridge, as, also, Middletown Valley and the proverbially
fertile region between the Catoctin and the Patapsco. About an hour
before sunset, advance bodies of the vast army would appear from every
direction and, before daylight had died out, it is no exaggeration to
say, the whole sky was obliterated from view by myriads upon myriads of
the sable freebooters. For some reason best known to themselves, these
birds do not, at once, settle down to rest, on arriving at their
encampments, but wheel and circle 'round, as if none of them had a fixed
perch, and, from their deafening and angry cawing, it may be inferred
that, every night, they have to contend for a convenient sleeping place.
Sometimes, it would appear as if they were holding a court, for, bodies
of them are seen, frequently, to separate themselves from the main crowd
and, after conferring, as it were, beat and banish a member--presumably
a criminal--and then return to the rookery. During the war, they
disappeared and, no doubt, sought a more peaceful home. Besides, in
those sad years agriculture was neglected in this region and it may be
supposed that these sagacious birds sought for plenty as well as peace.
Even after the war, they no longer frequented the Loudoun Mountain, but
took to the Maryland Heights, where they may be seen every morning and
evening in the autumn and winter, starting out on their forays or
returning to their inaccessible resting place. Their numbers vary very
much, however, for, during several consecutive years, they will be
comparatively few, while for another period, they will appear in
countless thousands. They always disappear in the spring to fulfill the
great law of increase and multiplication, but, strange to say, a crow's
nest is a comparatively rare sight in the Virginia or Maryland woods,
and as far as the writer is advised, it is the same in the neighboring
states. The farmers are unrelenting enemies of the crows, and they never
neglect an opportunity for their destruction, and the sagacious birds,
knowing this by instinct and experience, no doubt, take special pains to
protect their young by rearing them in the least accessible places. Some
day, perhaps, we will know what useful part the crow takes in the
economy of Mother Nature. That he does something to compensate for the
corn he consumes, no reflecting man will be disposed to deny but what
that service is, certainly, no Virginia or Maryland grain producer
appears to have discovered, if we are to judge from the amount of
profanity heard from those hard-fisted tillers of the soil, when the
subject of crows is mentioned.

At a point unapproachable from any quarter by man and not far from
Washington's profile, is a crevice in the rock which has been ever the
home of a family of hawks that, like the robber knights of old, issue
from their impregnable fortress and levy tribute from all that are too
weak to resist them. They prey on the beautiful and useful little birds
that are indigenous, often extending their ravages to poultry yards. The
only way to destroy them is by shooting them with single bullets, while
they are on the wing, for they fly too high for shot. Their screams are
peculiarly harsh and cruel, and they often mar the peaceful serenity of
a summer evening. The people would compromise with them gladly, if they
would war on the English sparrows, but as far as the author knows they
never do =that=, recognizing, no doubt, and respecting a kindred
depravity. May the shadows of both nuisances grow rapidly less! But,
hold; not so fast. =They= too, perhaps, have their uses in the nice
balance of Nature, and their annihilation might cause an injurious
excess somewhere. How inconsistent, even a philosopher can sometimes
be!

Near the hawks' fortress there is a traditional beehive of immense
proportions. No one has seen it, for, like the hawks' nest, it is
inaccessible to man, but wild bees are seen, in the season of flowers,
flying to and from the place where the hive is supposed to be, and it is
believed that there is a very great stock of honey stored away,
somewhere near, by many generations of these industrious and sagacious
creatures. =They=, too, and the hawks and crows, as well as the goats
and eagles, may have their own opinion of the would-be Lords of
creation, and it may be well for us of the genus <DW25> that we do not
know what that opinion is.

It is supposed by many that the whole Valley of Virginia was, at one
time, the bed of a vast sea and that, during some convulsion of Nature,
the imprisoned waters found an outlet at this place. There are many
circumstances to give an appearance of truth to this theory, especially
the fact that complete sea shells, or exact likenesses of them, are
found at various points in the Alleghany and Blue Ridge Mountains. Be
this as it may, the passage of the rivers through the mighty barrier is
a spectacle of awful sublimity and it well deserves the many panegyrics
it has received from orator and poet. A good deal depends on the point
from which, and the time when, the scene is viewed. The writer would
recommend the old cemetery and 10 o'clock, on a moonlight night,
especially if the moon should happen to be directly over the gorge where
the rivers meet. Then the savage wildness of the prospect is tempered
agreeably by the mild moonbeams, and the prevailing silence adds to the
impression of mingled sublimity, and weird loveliness. Let no one fear
the companionship of the still inhabitants of "the City of the Dead."
They are quiet, inoffensive neighbors and they, no doubt, many a time in
their lives, admired the same scene and, like the men of to-day,
wondered what this whole thing of creation and human existence means.
Perhaps they know it all now and, perhaps, they do =not=. Any way, their
tongues will not disturb one's meditations, and it may be that their
silence will furnish a wholesome homily on the nothingness of this life
and the vanity of all earthly pursuits.

Robert Harper, from whom the place gets its name, was a native of Oxford
in England. He was born about the year 1703 and, at the age of twenty
years, he emigrated to Philadelphia where he prosecuted the business of
architecture and millwrighting. He erected a church for the Protestant
Episcopalians in Frankfort, which edifice, however, through some defect
of title, was afterwards lost to the congregation for which it was
built. In 1747 he was engaged by some members of the Society of
"Friends" to erect a meeting-house for that denomination on the Opequon
river, near the site of the present city of Winchester, Virginia, and,
while on his way through the then unbroken wilderness to fulfill his
contract, he lodged, one night, at a lonely inn on the site of what is
now the city of Frederick, Maryland. While staying at this hostelry, he
met a German named Hoffman to whom, in the course of conversation, he
communicated the business that took him on his journey and, also, his
intention to proceed to his destination by way of Antietam, a name now
so famous in our national history, for the terrible battle fought there
during the late rebellion. Hoffman informed him that there was a shorter
route, by way of what he called "The Hole," and, as an additional
inducement, he promised him a sight of some wonderful scenery. Harper
agreed to go by the way of "The Hole" and, next night, he arrived at
that point and made the acquaintance of a man named Peter Stevens who
had squatted at the place which was included in the great Fairfax
estate. Harper was so much pleased with the scenery that he bought out
Stevens for the sum of fifty British guineas. As, however, he could only
buy Stevens' good will, the real ownership being vested in Lord Fairfax,
he, next year, paid a visit to Greenway, the residence of that nobleman,
and from him or his agent he obtained a patent for the lands formerly
occupied by Stevens on the precarious tenure of squatter sovereignty.
Stevens had held the place for thirteen years and the agents of Lord
Fairfax had experienced great trouble from him. They were, therefore,
very glad to be rid of him. Harper settled down there and established a
ferry, when the place lost the undignified name of "The Hole" and
acquired the more euphonious title of "Harper's Ferry" by which it has,
ever since, been known and by which, no doubt, it will be designated by
the remotest posterity. At that time, there was but one dwelling
there--the Stevens cabin--which was situated on what is now called
Shenandoah street, on the site of the house at present owned by Mr.
William Erwin and used as a drug store, liquor saloon, and a boarding
house. Harper lived in this house, many years, until about the year
1775, when he built one about half a mile farther up the Shenandoah,
where he died in 1782.

Mr. Harper was a man of medium height and considerable physical
strength. He was very energetic and well suited for pioneer life. He
left no children, and his property descended, by will, to Sarah, only
child of his brother Joseph, and to some nephews of his wife, named
Griffith. Sarah Harper was married to a gentleman of Philadelphia, named
Wager. He was a grandson of a German of the same name who, many years
before, had emigrated from the city of Worms in Hesse Darmstadt. Neither
Mr. Wager nor his wife ever saw their Harper's Ferry property, but many
of their descendants were born there and some of them are now living in
the neighboring cities, owning still a considerable estate at their old
home. Of this family was the late venerable Robert Harper Williamson, of
Washington city, the first person having the name of Harper who was born
in the town. The wife of Judge Swaim, a few years ago of the Supreme
Court of the United States, was one of the Wager family and their son
was General Wager Swaim, much distinguished in the Union army during the
late rebellion. Just as this goes to press we learn of his death.

Mr. Harper was interred on his own property and his moss-grown grave is
yet to be seen in the romantically situated cemetery that overlooks the
town--the same heretofore mentioned, as affording the best point from
which to view the scenery. By a provision of his will, several acres of
land were bequeathed to the place, as a burial ground--his own grave to
be in the centre--and now, a very large number sleep their dreamless
sleep in a beautiful though until lately a sadly neglected cemetery
around the founder of the village.

Few of the events that transpired in Mr. Harper's time are recorded.
Shortly after building the house on Shenandoah street he erected a large
stone dwelling on what is now called High street. This house yet stands
and occasionally it is occupied by some of his heirs. He experienced
great difficulty in finishing this building, owing to a scarcity of
mechanics, nearly all the able-bodied men of the place and neighborhood
having gone to join the army of Washington. It is recorded that an
intimate friend of Mr. Harper, named Hamilton, lost his life in this
house, by an accidental fall and this tradition, coupled with the age of
the house, gives a sombre character to the building. At the time of Mr.
Harper's death, therefore, there were but three houses at "The Ferry."

In 1748, there was a great flood in the Potomac, which, according to
some memoranda left by the founder of the place, drove him from the
house he then occupied--the Stevens cabin--and another, through a less
freshet, called "The Pumpkin Flood," is recorded as having occurred in
1753. The latter derived its name from the great numbers of pumpkins
which it washed away from the gardens of the Indians who, then, resided
in scattered lodges along the two rivers.

It is said that, at the commencement of the Revolution Mr. Harper's
sympathies were Tory, but that, soon, he espoused the cause of his
adopted country.

In 1794, during the administration of =General Washington=, Harper's
Ferry was chosen as the site of a national armory. It is said that the
great Father of his Country, himself, suggested it as the best location
then known for the purpose, having visited the place in person. This is
a tradition among the people and, if it is true, it is characteristic of
the most sagacious of men. The water-power at the place is immense, some
people supposing it to be the finest in the world. The Valley of
Virginia and that of Middletown, as well as the fertile plains of
Loudoun, gave promise of an abundance of the necessaries of life and,
perhaps, with the eye of prophecy, he saw railroads penetrating the
wilderness of the Allegheny regions and transporting its then hidden
mineral treasures to aid in the proposed manufacture of arms. In the
year above mentioned Congress applied to the General Assembly of
Virginia for permission to purchase the site and, by a vote of the
latter, leave was granted to buy a tract, not exceeding six hundred and
forty acres. Accordingly a body of land containing one hundred and
twenty-five acres was bought from the heirs of Mr. Harper. This tract is
contained in a triangle formed by the two rivers and a line running from
the Potomac to the Shenandoah along what is now called Union Street.
Another purchase was made of three hundred and ten acres from a Mr.
Rutherford. The latter tract is that on which the village of Bolivar now
stands. In some time after, Congress desiring to obtain the benefit of
the fine timber growing on the Loudoun Heights and not deeming it proper
to ask for any further concessions from the State of Virginia, leased in
perpetuity of Lord Fairfax, proprietor of "The Northern Neck," the right
to all the timber growing and to grow on a tract of thirteen hundred and
ninety-five acres on the Loudoun Heights immediately adjoining Harper's
Ferry.

Thus prepared, the government commenced the erection of shops, and in
1796, a Mr. Perkins, an English Moravian, was appointed to superintend
the works. He is represented as having been an amiable, unsophisticated
man, and tradition still tells of his simplicity of dress and
deportment. During his time, nothing of moment occurred at the place.
The town was yet in its infancy, with very few denizens, and, as the
period antedates the time of that venerable personage--the oldest
inhabitant--very little is known of what took place during Mr. Perkins'
administration. One or two centenarians, now a few years deceased,
however retained some faint remembrance of him and another Englishman,
named Cox, who had been for many years employed under him as a man of
all work, and who had followed him to Harper's Ferry from southern
Virginia, where Mr. Perkins had formerly resided. On one occasion, Cox
was required by his employer to attend to his--Perkins'--garden which
was overrun with weeds. For some reason, Cox did not relish the job, but
gave, however, a grumbling consent. Next morning, Cox commenced weeding
and, towards evening, he presented himself to Mr. Perkins with the
information that "he had made a clean sweep of it." The master was much
gratified and he told Mrs. Perkins to give Cox a dram of whiskey for
which the latter had a good relish. On visiting his garden next day, Mr.
Perkins discovered that, sure enough, Cox had made a clean sweep. The
weeds were all gone, but so were cabbages, turnips, carrots and
everything else of the vegetable kind. In great wrath, he sent for Cox,
charged him with every crime in the calendar and, with a kick on the
seat of honor, ejected him from the house, at the same time forbidding
him to show his face again around the works. Cox retreated hastily,
muttering "the devil a step will I go--the devil a step will I go." He
made his way to the shop where he was usually employed and, the
good-natured Perkins, soon forgetting his anger towards his old
follower, "the devil a step," sure enough, did Cox go from Harper's
Ferry. Sir Walter Scott relates that a Scotch nobleman once addressed
him in the following words an old and spoiled servant of his family who
had given him mortal offense. "John, you can no longer serve me.
Tomorrow morning either you or I must leave this house." "Aweel,
master," replied John, "if y're determined on ganging awa, we would like
to ken what direction ye'll be takin." No doubt, the same relations
existed between Mr. Perkins and Cox as between the nobleman and his
servant.

In 1799, during the administration of John Adams, in anticipation of a
war with France, the government organized a considerable army for
defense. A part of the forces was sent, under General Pinkney, into
camp at Harper's Ferry, and the ridge on which they were stationed has
ever since been called, "Camp Hill." It runs north and south between
Harper's Ferry and Bolivar. When the war cloud disappeared many of the
soldiers settled down at the place. A good many had died while in the
service, and their bodies are buried on the western <DW72> of Camp Hill.
Although the mortal portion of them has mingled, long since, with Mother
earth, their spirits are said to hover still around the scene of their
earthly campaign and "oft in the stilly night" are the weird notes of
their fifes and the clatter of their drums heard by belated Harper's
Ferryans. The <DW52> people who appear to be especially favored with
spirit manifestations, bear unanimous testimony to these facts, and it
is well known that some fine houses in the neighborhood were, for many
years, without tenants in consequence of their being supposed to be
places of rendezvous for these errant spirits. Once, over forty years
ago, the writer spent a winter's night in one of these houses, in
company with a corpse and the recollection of the feelings he
experienced, on that occasion, still causes the few hairs he has
retained to stick up "like the quills of the fretful porcupine." The
deceased was a stranger who had taken temporary possession of the house
and had died there very suddenly. He had been keeping bachelor's hall
there and, as he had no relatives at the place, a committee of
charitable citizens undertook the care of the remains, and the writer,
then a young man, affecting some courage, was detailed to watch the
corpse for one night. The house had an uncanny reputation, any way, and
a corpse was not exactly the companion a man would choose to stay with,
in a haunted house, but the writer was then courting and desired to rise
in the estimation of his girl, and this nerved him to the task. He held
to it, but, gentle reader, that was a very long night, indeed, and even
such fame as he acquired on that occasion and the approval of his loved
one would, never again, be inducement enough for him to undergo a
similar ordeal. But the spirits of the soldiers behaved with commendable
decency on the occasion and "not a drum was heard" or fife either. The
corpse, too, conducted itself discreetly but, dear reader, that night
was a very long one notwithstanding, and the daylight, when at last it
did appear, was enthusiastically welcomed by the quaking watcher.

At that time--1799--a bitter war existed between the Federalists and
Republicans, and a certain Captain Henry, in General Pinkney's army is
said to have taken his company, one day, to Jefferson's Rock and ordered
them to overthrow the favorite seat of Jefferson, his political enemy.
They succeeded in detaching a large boulder from the top which rolled
down hill to Shenandoah street, where it lay for many years, a monument
of stupid bigotry. This action was the occasion for a challenge to
mortal combat for Captain Henry from an equally foolish Republican in
the same corps, but the affair having come to the ears of General
Pinkney, he had both of the champions arrested before a duel could come
off, very much to the regret of all the sensible people in the town who
expected that, if the meeting was allowed to take place, there would be,
probably at least, one fool the less at Harper's Ferry.

Opposite to Jefferson's Rock and on the Loudoun side of the Shenandoah,
there grew, at that time a gigantic oak which had been, from time
immemorial, the eyrie of a family of eagles. Jefferson, while at the
place, had been much interested in these birds and after his election to
the presidency, he sent a request to Mr. Perkins that he would try to
secure for him some of their young. At Mr. Perkins' instance, therefore,
three young men named Perkins--the superintendent's son--Dowler and Hume
ascended the tree by means of strips nailed to it, and, after a terrible
fight with the parent birds, they succeeded in securing three eaglets.
They were forwarded to the president and, by him, one of them was sent
as a present to the King of Spain who, in return, sent a noble
Andalusian ram to Mr. Jefferson. Being forbidden by law to receive
presents from foreign potentates, the president kept the animal in the
grounds around the White House, as a curiosity, but the ram being very
vicious, and the boys of the city delighting to tease him, he, one day,
rushed into the streets in pursuit of some of his tormentors and killed
a young man, named Carr, whom he unfortunately encountered. Mr.
Jefferson, therefore, advertised him for sale, and thus was the first of
that breed of sheep introduced into America.

Some time during Mr. Perkins' administration, a singular character came
to reside at Harper's Ferry. His name was Brown and he was supposed to
be a native of Scotland. He had served as a surgeon in the American
army, during the Revolution. He was a bachelor and as, in addition to
the profits of his profession, he drew a pension from the government, he
was in good circumstances and able to indulge in many costly
eccentricities. He lived alone on what is now called High street, and
his cabin was situated on the lot opposite to the present residence of
Mrs. Ellen O'Bryne. A cave, partly natural and partly artificial, near
his cabin, was used as his store-house and dispensary. His
eccentricities were numerous, but the principal one was an inordinate
love for the canine and feline races. No less than fifty dogs followed
him in his daily rambles and made the night hideous in the town with
their howlings. His cats were as numerous as his dogs and they mingled
their melodies with those of their canine companions to the delectation
of his neighbors. A favorite amusement with the young men of the place,
was to watch for the doctor, when he walked abroad, and shoot some of
his dogs--an offense that was sure to earn his bitter hatred. He had
many good qualities and he made it a point never to charge an armorer
for medical advice. He died about the year 1824, and on his death-bed,
he ordered that his coffin should be made with a window in the lid and
that it should be placed in an erect position, in a brick vault which he
had erected in the cemetery, and that it should be left so for nine days
after his burial, when, he said, he would return to life. A person was
employed to visit the vault every day, until the promised resurrection
which did not take place, however, and probably will not, until the
Archangel's trump wakes him up like other people. In time the vault
crumbled to pieces, and, for years, a skull, supposed to be that of the
doctor, lay exposed on the hillside near the site of the vault and
children used it for a play-thing. Alas! poor Yorick!

With Mr. Perkins came, from eastern Virginia, the ancestors of the
Stipes and Mallory families, as well as others who were regarded as
being among the best citizens at the place. In Mr. Perkins' time a
shocking accident occurred in the armory. Michael McCabe, an employe was
caught in the machinery of one of the shops and, as he was drawn through
a space not exceeding eight inches in breadth, of course, he was crushed
to a jelly.

Mr. Perkins died at Harper's Ferry and was interred in Maryland. He was
succeeded, in 1810, by James Stubblefield, a Virginian, and a gentleman
of the true Virginia stamp. At that time, it was deemed absolutely
necessary that the superintendent of a national armory should be,
himself, a practical gun-maker. Mr. Stubblefield, therefore, in order to
satisfy the ordnance department of his fitness for the position, was
obliged to manufacture a gun, he, himself, making all the component
parts. The specimen giving satisfaction, he got his appointment, after a
considerable interregnum. His superintendency was the longest of any in
the history of the armory. It continued from 1810 to 1829, a period of
nineteen years. In 1824, some discontented spirits among the armorers
brought charges against Mr. Stubblefield which occasioned the convening
of a court martial for their investigation. The court acquitted Mr.
Stubblefield and, as he was generally popular, his friends among the
employes gave him a public dinner which was served in the arsenal yard,
in honor of his victory. While the trial was yet pending, a Mr. Lee was
appointed to the superintendency, pro tem, but, on the termination of
the court martial, Mr. Stubblefield was reinstated. During this
superintendency--August 29th, 1821, an armorer named Jacob Carman lost
his life by the bursting of a grinding-stone in one of the shops. A
fragment struck him and, such was the force of the blow, that he was
driven through the brick wall of the shop and his mangled remains were
found several steps from the building.

While Mr. Stubblefield was superintendent, about the year 1818, a
gentleman named John H. Hall, of the State of Maine, invented a
breech-loading gun--probably the first of the kind manufactured. He
obtained a patent for his invention and, the government having concluded
to adopt the gun into its service, Mr. Hall was sent to Harper's Ferry
to superintend its manufacture. Two buildings on "The Island" were set
apart for him, and he continued to make his guns in those shops until
1840, when he moved to Missouri. After this period, other buildings were
erected on the same island, for the manufacture of the minie rifle, but
the place retained the name of "Hall's Works" by which it was known in
Mr. Hall's time. It was, sometimes, called "the Rifle Factory." The
reader will understand by the term "armory," used in this book, the main
buildings on the Potomac. Although both ranges of shops were used for
the manufacture of arms, custom designated the one, "The Armory" and the
other--the less important--"the Rifle Factory" or "Hall's Works." Mr.
Hall was the father of the Hon. Willard Hall, at one time a member of
Congress from Missouri and, during the war, Governor of that state. He
was a high-toned gentleman and a man of great ability. His daughter,
Lydia, was married to Dr. Nicholas Marion, an eminent physician who
resided at Harper's Ferry from 1827 until his death in 1882. Their sons,
William V., and George H., are physicians of Washington, D. C., and are
ranked among the first, as specialists, in diseases of the eye and ear.
Another son, Robert, is a surgeon in the United States Navy. It may be
remarked here, that Harper's Ferry has contributed more than any other
place of the same size to the prosperity of other parts of our country,
especially the West and Southwest, by sending them many distinguished
people. Here, some eighty-five years ago was born, in an old house, now
in ruins, on the bank of the Shenandoah, General Jeff Thompson. "Jeff"
was but a nickname, his proper name being Merriweather Thompson. His
father was, at one time, paymaster's clerk in the armory and was very
highly respected.

Besides the parties above named, Harper's Ferry has furnished many other
eminent men to the West. Some sixty-five years ago, Captain Jacamiah
Seaman, who had resigned his position as captain in the company
stationed at Harper's Ferry, moved to Sullivan county, Missouri. He took
with him a youth to whom he had taken a fancy. The young man was named
Robert W. Daugherty and he had been left by his dying parents in care of
Mr. Martin Grace and his wife, nee O'Byrne. This lady's brother, Mr.
Terence O'Byrne, will figure further on in this history as one of John
Brown's prisoners at the time of that fanatic's famous raid. Young
Daugherty had the consent of his guardians to accompany Captain Seaman,
who was a man of very high standing at the place, and whose
family--originally of Welsh descent--were always held in the greatest
esteem in Virginia. Young Daugherty was a scion of the very warlike and
singularly successful clan of O'Daugherty, who, from time immemorial,
dwelt in the valleys of romantic Inishowen, in the county of Donegal,
Ireland, and who distinguished themselves particularly, in the
sanguinary battles of Benburb and Yellow Ford, fought in the 16th
century, to the utter destruction, by the Irish clans of two powerful
English armies. The name still flourishes in their native country, but
alas, like many others, they =will= drop the O before their name,
regardless of the loss of euphony, and the memory of the many glories
their fathers achieved under the venerable old name. Robert's father was
James Daugherty, a man of great force of character and executive
ability. He was born in Donegal about the end of the 18th century and
died young, of the cholera epidemic at Harper's Ferry, in 1831-1832,
leaving several children. He and his wife who, also died young, are
buried, side by side, in the cemetery attached to Saint John's Catholic
church, Frederick, Maryland, of which they were devoted members. Their
children were put under strict Christian guardianship, and those of them
who lived to maturity married into some of the best families of Virginia
and Maryland. Mary Jane, a highly educated lady, married Hugh Gifford,
of Baltimore. John died, we believe, unmarried, at Memphis, Tennessee,
aged 22 years. Catherine Anne, the third child, died in the Orphans'
House of the Catholic church in Baltimore aged 14 years. Elizabeth
Ellen, the youngest child, married James Wall Keenan, of Winchester,
Virginia, a brave confederate soldier, whose sister, Catherine, married
Charles B. Rouse, the Merchant Prince and gallant soldier of New York.

Robert W. Daugherty, the second son, accompanied Captain Seaman to the
West, as before stated, and, afterwards, married Lydia E. Seaman, sister
of Captain Jacamiah Seaman and Richard S. Seaman who, in the civil war,
served prominently under General T. J. Jackson. Robert W. Daugherty was
the first man in Sullivan county, Missouri, to answer the call of
Governor Jackson for volunteers, when the civil war broke out. He
entered as a private and was elected captain, but refused further
promotion. He served with distinction in the 3rd Missouri Infantry of
the Confederate army. At the close of the war, he surrendered at
Hempstead, Arkansas, and engaged in planting on Red River, Bosier
Parish, Louisiana. He died there on his plantation, June 2nd, 1877,
leaving a son, Jacamiah Seaman Daugherty, now of Houston, Texas, who
married Maggie C. Bryan, of Lexington, Kentucky, daughter of Daniel
Bryan and sister of Joseph Bryan, M. D., who, while in charge of some
hospital in New York, first applied plaster of paris in the treatment of
sprains and fractures. The Bryans are of the old family who accompanied
Boone to Kentucky. A daughter of Robert W. Daugherty--Miss May
Ellen--married Col. Caleb J. Perkins, who distinguished himself as a
fearless fighter under General Sterling Price of the Confederate army.
Col. Perkins is now dead. His widow survives him in Carroll county,
Missouri, with an only son, a young man of great promise, as befits his
gallant father's son and one with the mingled blood of the Seamans of
Virginia and the O'Daughertys of Inishowen, so many whom fought and bled
for their beloved native land on the gory fields of Benburb, Yellow Ford
and many other famous battles.

Nancy Augusta Jane Daugherty married Wesley Arnold, of Bosier Parish,
Louisiana. He was a member of the old Arnold family of Georgia. Her
husband is now dead and she lives with her two promising children--Hugh
and Genevieve Arnold in Terrel, Kaufman county, Texas. Robert Richard
Daugherty disappeared from Daugherty, Kaufman county, Texas, in the fall
of 1889. He left his store locked and his safe had a considerable amount
of cash in it. That was the last thing known of him, except that his hat
was found in a creek bottom, a mile from his store. It is supposed that
he was murdered by a band of thieves, because of his having aided in the
arrest of some of their companions. John Edward, the youngest child of
Robert W. Daugherty, married a Miss Scott in Kaufman county, Texas. He
is now a prominent farmer of Denton county, in that state.

The parties who were instrumental in bringing charges against Mr.
Stubblefield were not yet satisfied and, in 1829, he was subjected to
another trial by court martial. He was again acquitted, after a
protracted hearing and the general sympathy of the community was more
than ever before in his favor. While the second trial was progressing,
his accusers were very active in hunting up evidence against him. They
learned that Mr. Stubblefield had obligingly given to a man named
McNulty the temporary use of some tools belonging to the government.
They sought this man and they were much gratified to find that he spoke
very disparagingly of the superintendent. Expecting great things from
his evidence, they had him summoned, next day, before the court martial.
On his being questioned by the prosecuting lawyer, however, he gave the
most glowing account of Mr. Stubblefield's goodness and efficiency. Much
disappointed, the counsel for the complainants exclaimed: "Sir, this is
not what you said last night." "No," replied McNulty, "but what I said
then was nothing but street talk. I am now on my oath and I am
determined to tell the truth." The court and a great majority of the
people were satisfied, before, of Mr. Stubblefield's innocence and his
acquittal was long deemed certain, but McNulty's testimony tended to
throw contempt on the whole prosecution and ridicule is often a more
powerful weapon than reason or logic.

During the second trial, Lieutenant Symington was appointed to the
temporary superintendency, but, as in the case of Lee, at the first
trial, he was immediately withdrawn on the second acquittal of Mr.
Stubblefield, and the latter was again reinstated. The proud Virginian,
however, refused to continue in the office. He had been a benefactor to
the people and had been treated with ingratitude by many. Twice he had
been honorably acquitted by a military tribunal--always the most rigorous
of courts--and, his honor being satisfied, he voluntarily vacated the
superintendency.

In Mr. Stubblefield's time--1824--the "bell shop" of the armory was
destroyed by fire. It got its name from its having the armory bell
suspended in a turret which overtopped the roof. The origin of the fire
was unknown, but it was supposed that some sparks from a fire made in
the yard for culinary purposes, occasioned the accident.

Mr. Stubblefield was succeeded, in 1829, by Colonel Dunn. This gentleman
had been connected with a manufacturing establishment, at the mouth of
Antietam Creek. His was a melancholy history. He was a strict
disciplinarian and, indeed, he is represented as having been a martinet.
The severity of his rules offended several of the workmen, and he paid
with his life a heavy penalty for his harshness. A young man named
Ebenezer Cox, an armorer, had given offense to Lieutenant Symington,
while the latter temporarily filled the office of superintendent, during
the second court martial on Mr. Stubblefield, and, therefore, he was
dismissed by that officer. When Colonel Dunn succeeded to the office,
Cox applied to him for a reinstatement. It is said that the latter
expressed contrition and made submission to Colonel Dunn who, with
violent language, refused to be appeased and displayed great
vindictiveness by threatening with expulsion from the armory works any
employe who should shelter the offender in his house. Cox's
brother-in-law, with whom he boarded, was obliged to refuse him
entertainment, and it appeared as if Colonel Dunn was determined by all
means to force Cox to leave his native town. Thus "driven to the wall"
the desperate man armed himself with a carbine and presented himself at
the office of the superintendent, about noon, on the 30th day of
January, 1830. What conversation took place is unknown, but in a few
minutes, a report of fire arms was heard. People rushed to Colonel
Dunn's office and were met by his wife who, with loud lamentations,
informed them that her husband was murdered. The colonel was found with
a ghastly wound in the stomach, through which protruded portions of the
dinner he had eaten a few minutes before. Being a very delicate,
dyspeptic man, he generally used rice at his meals and a considerable
quantity of this food was found on the floor near him, having been
ejected through the wound, but, strange to say, it was unstained with
blood. When found the Colonel was expiring and no information could be
got from him. Mrs. Dunn was in her own house, opposite to the office,
within the armory enclosure, when the crime was committed, and knew
nothing, except the fact of the murder. She had heard the shot and,
suspecting something wrong, had entered the office and found her husband
as above described, but the murderer had escaped. Suspicion, however, at
once rested on Cox and diligent search was made for him. He was
discovered in the "wheelhouse" and taken prisoner. The arrest was made
by Reuben Stipes. Cox made no resistance and he was immediately
committed to Charlestown jail. The body of Colonel Dunn was buried in
Sharpsburg, Maryland, near the spot where, many years afterwards,
General Robert E. Lee of the Confederate army, stood while directing the
movements of his troops at the battle of Antietam. There is a tradition
that the day of his funeral was the coldest ever experienced in this
latitude. So severe, indeed, was the weather that the fact is thought
to be of sufficient interest to be mentioned in the chronicles of the
place. In the course of the following summer--August 27th--Cox was
executed publicly, near Charlestown, confessing his guilt and hinting
strongly at complicity in the crime, on the part of some others. His
words, however, were not considered to be of sufficient importance to
form grounds for indictment against those to whom he alluded, and there
were no more prosecutions. This murder marks an era in the history of
Harper's Ferry and, although many more important and thrilling events
have occurred there, since that time, this unfortunate tragedy still
furnishes material for many a fireside tale, and the site of the
building in which the murder was perpetrated is yet pointed out, as
unhallowed ground.

Cox is said to have been a remarkably handsome young man of about
twenty-four years of age. He was a grandson of Cox who, in Mr. Perkins'
time, figured in various capacities around the armory and who
particularly distinguished himself at gardening, as before related.

General George Rust succeeded Colonel Dunn in 1830. For the seven years
during which he superintended the armory, nothing of any interest is
recorded. He was rather popular with the employes, and survivors of his
time speak well of his administration. It may be that the melancholy
death of his immediate predecessor had cast a gloom on the place which
operated to prevent the occurrence of any stirring events. It is said
that General Rust spent very little of his time at Harper's Ferry. He
was a wealthy man, owning a good deal of property in Loudoun county,
Virginia, where he lived much of his time, delegating the duties of his
office in the armory to trusty assistants who managed his affairs so as
to give satisfaction to the government. Had he been a poor man his long
stays at home, no doubt, would have excited comment and some busy-body
would have reported the facts to his detriment. As it was, the General
was independent and he enjoyed his otium cum dignitate without any
attempt at interruption or annoyance from tale-bearers.

General Rust was succeeded, in 1837, by Colonel Edward Lucas, a
Virginian of Jefferson county. He was an exceedingly amiable and
generous man, although fiery and pugnacious when he deemed himself
insulted. He was extremely popular and the writer well remembers his
bent form, while he walked or rode his mule along the streets of
Harper's Ferry, lavishing kind expressions on old and young and
receiving in return the hearty good wishes of every one he met. The name
of "Colonel Ed" was familiar as a household word at the place, and, as
he was honored and respected in life, so was he lamented at his death,
which occurred in 1858, while he occupied the position of paymaster at
the armory. While Colonel Lucas was superintendent, the armory canal was
much improved by the building of a permanent rock forebay. A stone wall
also was built, extending from the front gate of the armory to the "tilt
hammer shop"--the whole river front of the grounds--protecting the yard
and shops from high waters and, indeed reclaiming from the Potomac,
several feet of land and adding that much to the government property.
Twelve good dwellings, also, were built for the use of the families of
the employes, and the place was much improved in every respect. During
the exciting presidential contest in 1840, Colonel Lucas was a strong
Van Buren man but, to his honor, he never oppressed any of the men under
him, on account of politics nor was he charged with having done so. In
1847, he was appointed paymaster, an office which he filled until his
death, eleven years afterwards.

It is said of Colonel Lucas that, if any of the mechanics or laborers
employed under him did wrong, he was not inclined to discharge them,
preferring to punish them by administering a sound thrashing. He had
several fist-fights with his men and, although he was a small man, it is
said that he always deported himself well in his combats and generally
came off winner. In any case, he was never known to use his authority as
superintendent to punish any one who had spirit enough to stand up for
what he considered his rights, even if it involved a personal quarrel
with himself. The Colonel owned a good many slaves, nearly all of whom
were of the most worthless description. It was said, indeed, with some
show of reason, that he was virtually owned by his servants. Whenever a
<DW64>, anywhere near Harper's Ferry, had become so unprofitable that his
master determined to sell him to a trader, the slave would appeal to
Colonel Lucas to save him from the slave-drivers and servitude in
"Georgia," which was regarded, justly perhaps, by the <DW64>s as a fate
worse than death. With them "Georgia" was a synonym for all the South.
The good-natured Colonel would purchase the slave, if possible, and,
consequently, he always had the most useless lot of servants in
Virginia. His favorite slave was a diminutive old <DW64> named "Tanner,"
who hardly weighed one hundred pounds, but who, nevertheless, prided
himself on his muscle and was as fiery as his master. One day, Tanner
had a fight with another <DW64> and, while they were belaboring one
another, the Colonel happened to come up, and, seeing his servant in a
tight place, he called out, "Pitch in, Tanner! Pitch in, Tanner!" The
street arabs took up the cry, and it has been used ever since, at
Harper's Ferry, in cases where great exertion of muscle or energy is
recommended. Colonel Lucas was truly a chivalrous man and we will not
see his "like again," very soon.

It is to be noted that Colonel Lucas and his predecessors, with military
titles, were, in reality, civilians, being merely militia officers or
getting the prefix to their names by courtesy. This explanation is
necessary for an understanding of the following:




THE MILITARY SYSTEM.

CHAPTER II.


Colonel Lucas was succeeded in the superintendency by Major Henry K.
Craig in 1841. The Major was an ordnance officer and, of course, his
education having been military, he was inclined somewhat to that
strictness of discipline which the most amiable of men, in military
command, soon learn to exact from their inferiors, having been taught to
observe it, themselves, toward their superiors. There were two classes
of employes in the armory--the day workers and the piece workers. By an
order of Major Craig, the latter were obliged to work the same number of
hours as the former. This edict was deemed unjust by the piece workers,
as they considered themselves entitled to the privilege of working for
whatever time they chose. They claimed remuneration, only, for the work
done, and, in their opinion, it mattered little to the government how
many hours they were employed. The superintendent thought otherwise,
however, and hence arose a "causa tetterima belli." Besides, everything
around the armory grounds assumed a military air, and a guard, at the
gate, regulated the ingress and egress of armorers and casual visitors.
Drunkenness was positively forbidden. These restrictions were not
relished at all by the armorers and the older men remembered with regret
the good old days of Perkins and Stubblefield, when the workmen used to
have hung up in the shops buckets of whiskey from which it was their
custom to regale themselves at short intervals. It is said, indeed, that
this license was carried to such excess in the time of Mr. Stubblefield
that an order was issued, prohibiting the men from drinking spirituous
liquors in the shops--a command which, at the time, was deemed arbitrary
and which was evaded through the ingenious plan of the men's putting
their heads outside of the windows, while they were taking their "nips."
These grievances rendered the men rebellious and, for some years a
bitter feud existed between the parties favoring the military system
and those who were opposed to it. In 1842, a large number of the men
chartered a boat on the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal and proceeded to
Washington City to see the president, John Tyler, and state to him their
grievances. At that time, little of an exciting nature had taken place
at Harper's Ferry. The Dunn murder, alone, furnished the whole history
of the town, up to the period of which we are treating, and that trip to
Washington, therefore, assumed an undue importance which it has retained
ever since, in the minds of the survivors of the voyage, notwithstanding
the fearful ordeals to which they were afterwards subjected. Neither
Jason and his Argonauts when they went in search of the Golden Fleece
nor Ulysses in his protracted return home from Troy encountered as many
vicissitudes of fortune as those hardy mariners of the canal boat. The
writer has been listening to stories of this expedition for more than
forty years, but as they never had any interest for him and as he does
not suppose his readers would care to hear them, he leaves them to be
collected by some future poet, able and willing to do them justice. The
octogenarian participants in this voyage deem them of surpassing
interest, but they were young when those events took place and, now,
they are old and that accounts for their fond recollection. Having
reached Washington they obtained an audience of the president who
received them in a style worthy of the head of a great nation and, what
is more in the estimation of some people, a Virginia gentleman.
Compliments were exchanged and the president gave each of them a cordial
shake of the hand, an honor which was duly appreciated, for it is
related that one of the delegation, in a burst of enthusiasm, reached
out a hand of enormous proportions and dubious color to meet that of the
president, at the same time exclaiming, "Hullo, old fellow, give us your
corn stealer." This handsome compliment, no doubt, was very gratifying
to the president, for he made them a speech in which he declared in the
most emphatic manner, that he considered the working men as the bone and
sinew of the land and its main dependence in war and in peace; that he
loved them as such and that their interests should be his care. In this
strain he continued for some time, but suddenly, he threw cold water on
the hopes he had created by telling them that "they must go home and
hammer out their own salvation." This figurative expression and the
allusion to that emblem of vulcanic labor--the hammer--were not received
with the admiration which their wit deserved, and it is said that many
loud and deep curses were uttered by some sensitive and indiscreet piece
workers, and that the august presence of "Tyler too" had not the effect
of awing the bold navigators into suitable respect for the head of the
nation. They returned home wiser but hardly better men and, from that
period dates the bitter opposition of many Harper's Ferry people to the
military system of superintendency which continued until the final
overthrow of that order of things in 1854. This contest is the chief
event of the time of Colonel Craig's command.

The Colonel was a veteran of the war of 1812. He had served on the
Canadian frontier with General Scott and had received a severe wound in
the leg, the effects of which were, ever after, apparent in his walk. He
was not, however, a graduate of West Point.

He was succeeded in 1844 by Major John Symington, another military
officer and the same who, with an inferior rank, had superintended the
armory, pro tem, during the second trial of Mr. Stubblefield. Major
Symington was an exceedingly eccentric man. His talents were undoubted
and he got credit for many virtues, but his oddities detracted much from
his usefulness. His voice was of a peculiar intonation and his gestures
were odd, but withal, he had a clear head and a good heart and, during
his administration, many improvements were made at his suggestion, and
the people were generally prosperous. The shops were remodeled, and many
believe that he did more for the prosperity of the place than any other
superintendent. Those who knew him best asserted that his eccentricities
were mere pretense and assumed for the gratification of a latent vein of
humor. On the whole, he is remembered with very kind feelings. Like
other superintendents, he was much annoyed with applications for
employment. People of every trade and calling, when out of work, thought
they had a right to a part of the government patronage, no matter how
unsuited they were, from their former occupations, to serve as armorers.
One day the Major was troubled by more than the usual number of
applicants and his temper was sorely tried. Towards evening a stranger
presented himself and made the stereotyped request for work. "Well,"
said the Major, rubbing his hands in a manner peculiar to himself, "What
is =your= trade?" "I am a saddler and harnessmaker," replied the
stranger. "Oh," said the Major, "we do not make leather guns here. When
we do we will send for you."

He made it a point to exact from his subordinates the most literal
obedience to his orders and, while he must have often regretted his
having issued absurd commands while in his pets, he always gave credit
to those who carried them out fully. He had a <DW52> servant on whom he
could always rely for the exact performance of his most unreasonable
orders. One day, this servant carried to the dinner table a magnificent
turkey, cooked in the most approved fashion, but the Major was in one of
his tantrums and would not endure the sight of the sumptuous feast.
"Take it to the window and throw it out," said he, in the querulous tone
peculiar to him and, perhaps, to his surprise, the command was instantly
obeyed. The servant raised the window and pitched out into the lawn,
turkey, dish and all. The Major commended his servant's obedience and
was instantly appeased and induced to settle down to his dinner.

In his time, one of those exhibitions then rare, but unfortunately too
common now--a prize fight--took place at, or very near Harper's Ferry.
The then notorious Yankee Sullivan and an English bruiser named Ben
Caunt, met by appointment there in 1846, and treated the people to one
of those brutal shows. Caunt came to Harper's Ferry several weeks before
the fight and there he went through his course of training. He was the
favorite with the people, no doubt, because of his nationality--most of
the armorers being descended from Birmingham gun-smiths. Sullivan
arrived on the night before the encounter and with him came a crowd of
shoulder-hitters, pick-pockets, et hoc genus omne. They took possession
of the town and, until the fight was decided, the utmost terror
prevailed among the peaceable inhabitants. The battle ground was outside
the town limits, east of the Shenandoah, in a meadow near what is called
"the old still-house," on the line of Jefferson and Loudoun counties.
Sullivan won the fight, but the exhibition broke up in a general row.

In the summer of 1850, the fearful scourge--the Asiatic cholera again
made its appearance at the place and decimated the people. Although it
is said that the ravages of this pestilence are mostly confined to
people of dissolute habits, it was not so in this case, for it visited
the homes of rich and poor indiscriminately, and all classes suffered
equally. It is estimated that over one hundred people at the place
perished by this epidemic and, the town having been deserted by all who
could leave it, business, too, suffered severely.

Major Symington was succeeded, in 1851, by Colonel Benjamin Huger. He
was of Huguenot extraction and a native of South Carolina. His
administration was not marked by any very important events. The
excitement against the military system that arose in the time of Colonel
Craig continued unabated. During Colonel Huger's superintendency in
1851, a sad accident occurred at Harper's Ferry. On the opening of the
Baltimore and Ohio railroad from Cumberland to Fairmont, an excursion
train containing the principal officers of the road proceeded from
Baltimore to what was then the western terminus of that great channel of
commerce. A number of Harper's Ferry people determined to give them a
salute, as they passed that station, and, with this purpose, they loaded
an old twelve-pounder cannon which was kept at the armory for such
occasions. Through some mismanagement, there was a premature explosion
which caused the death of two <DW52> men. One of them, named John
Butler, was a veteran of the war of 1812 and had been long a resident of
the town. The other, named Scipio, was, too, like Butler, well known and
respected at the place. A third party, a white man, named James
O'Laughlin, to whose want of forethought the accident was attributed,
lost his life shortly afterwards by being run over by the railway cars,
in front of the ticket office.

In 1852, on an order from the Secretary of War, the government disposed
of a considerable portion of its property at Harper's Ferry to employes
at the armory. Many of those people desired to purchase houses and the
government deemed it politic to encourage them in so doing. The plan
insured a number of prudent, sober and steady mechanics for employment
in the government works--men who, having a deep interest in the place,
would consult the well-being of society there and would feel the more
attached to the public service. Therefore, many houses and lots were
disposed of at public sale and, at the same time, many donations of land
were made by the government for religious, educational and town
purposes.

In 1852 there was a remarkable inundation at Harper's Ferry--the
greatest that, up to that time, had occurred there--at least since the
settlement of the place by white people. The winter of 1851-1852 was
exceedingly severe. From November until April, the snow lay deep upon
the ground, and when, about the middle of the latter month, there was a
heavy and warm rain for several days, the snow melted rapidly and an
unprecedented flood was the consequence. The Potomac, swollen by a
thousand tributaries, the smallest of which might aspire, at the time,
to the dignity of a river, rolled in an irresistible tide and was met by
the Shenandoah with the accumulated waters of the whole upper Valley of
Virginia. The town was literally submerged and large boats were
propelled with oar and pole along the principal streets. Of course, much
damage was done to property, but no loss of life on that occasion is
recorded. Similar inundations we have mentioned as having occurred there
in Mr. Harper's time, and in 1832 a very remarkable one took place
which is fresh in the memories of a few of the citizens. Indeed, there
is a belief that at least once in every twenty years the town is
partially submerged. Since the war these inundations are more frequent
and far more injurious than they were before, because of the wholesale
destruction of the forests for the use of the armies during the civil
war, and the increased demand for timber for mercantile purposes. The
day will come when legislation must step in to prevent this evil and
when the American people must take a lesson from certain European
governments in which the state takes charge of the forests and regulates
the cutting down and planting of trees. The suggestion is, perhaps, an
unpopular one, but it may be right nevertheless.

It may be observed that Colonel Huger afterwards became a general in the
service of the Confederacy and obtained some fame in the seven days'
fighting before Richmond.

Colonel Huger was succeeded, in 1854, by Major Bell, who was the last of
the military superintendents. He "reigned" but a few months, the
government having decided about the end of that year to change the
system of armory superintendence back from the military to the civil
order. There was great rejoicing among the anti-military men and a
corresponding depression among those of the opposite party, for the
military system had many friends at the place, although they were in a
minority.




CHAPTER III.

THE CIVIL SYSTEM REVIVED.


Major Bell was succeeded, early in 1855, by Henry W. Clowe, a native of
Prince William county, Virginia, a very worthy mechanic who had been
employed, for many years before, as a master millwright in the armory.
He was a man of a very impulsive nature with all the virtues and many of
the faults of men with that temperament. He was highstrung, as the
saying is, but he was generous to a fault and never did the place enjoy
greater prosperity than under his administration. Whether this was owing
to his good management or not was a question which every man at the
place decided according to his partialities, perhaps, but the fact of
the great prosperity of Harper's Ferry at that time, is undoubted.
Having been associated a long time with the workmen as an equal he had
many difficulties to encounter to which a stranger would not be exposed.
It is probable, however, that his greatest trouble arose from the
intrigues of politicians. He had a quarrel with the representative in
Congress from the district to which Harper's Ferry then belonged, and by
the influence of the latter or of some other party, Mr. Clowe was
removed from the superintendency about the close of 1858.

In this administration, in the spring of 1856, a tragical occurrence
took place in the town. Two men named Engle and Alison had a quarrel
originating in drunkenness, when the latter struck the former on the
head with a four-pound weight, breaking his skull in several places. The
wounded man lay in a comatose state for some hours before his inevitable
death. Alison was arrested immediately and conveyed to Charlestown jail
to await trial. Having concealed on his person a small pistol he blew
out his own brains in a few minutes after his lodgement in prison, and
his spirit arrived at the great judgment seat almost as soon as that of
his victim.

In the summer of 1858--June 10th--a melancholy accident occurred in the
armory yard, whereby Mr. Thomas Cunningham, a most worthy man, lost his
life. A very curious circumstance is connected with this accident. The
mishap took place about 9 o'clock a.m. A few minutes before that hour
the writer of these pages was passing the armory gate, when he
encountered a very respectable citizen of the place, who, in an excited
manner asked him if he had heard of any accident in the shops or the
armory yard. Having heard of none the writer inquired what grounds the
other had for the question. The reply was, that he had heard of no
accident, but that he was certain that somebody was or would be hurt
that day at the place, for he had seen in his dreams that morning
several men at work in a deep excavation in the armory grounds and
noticed particles of gravel falling from the sides of the pit and a big
rock starting to fall on the men. In his endeavor to give notice to the
parties in danger he awoke and this was his reason for believing that
somebody would be injured that day in the place. Politeness alone
prevented the writer from laughing outright at what he considered a
foolish superstition in his friend. He reasoned with him on the
absurdity of a belief in dreams which, instead of being prophetic, can
always be traced to some impression made on the mind during waking
hours. While they were yet conversing, a man ran out from the armory in
breathless haste and inquired for a physician. On being questioned he
replied that Mr. Cunningham had been crushed by a rock falling on him in
an excavation he was making and that Mr. Edward Savin, also, had been
badly hurt. Mr. Cunningham died in a few minutes after his being injured
and thus was the dream literally verified, even to the exact place,
foreshadowed--the armory yard--for there it was the excavation was being
made. Mr. Savin recovered from his hurts and afterwards served with
great credit in the 69th regiment of New York Volunteers. At the first
battle of Bull Run he had, it is said, his clothing perforated in more
than a dozen places by bullets, but he escaped without a wound. It is
reported that his preservation in this battle was among the most
extraordinary of the war of the rebellion, considering the very shower
of bullets that must have poured on him to so riddle his clothes.
Whether the dream was a mere coincidence or a psychological phenomenon
let every reader judge for himself. There is high authority for
believing that "coming events cast their shadows before" and the above,
for which the writer can vouch, would appear to confirm the truth of
what every one is inclined, in his heart, to believe, though but few
dare to own it, for fear of incurring ridicule. The occurrence convinced
the writer of what he more than suspected before and fully believes now,
that verily, there are many things transpiring daily which do not enter
into anybody's philosophy and which can not be explained by intellect
clothed in flesh. Perhaps, we will understand it all when we enter some
other sphere of existence and, perhaps, again, we will =not=.

Apropos of the foregoing, the reader may feel interested in the
following which, although it did not occur at Harper's Ferry, took place
so near to it that it will not be considered much out of place in our
chronicles. Besides, it was proposed at the start that the author should
give strange incidents of the neighborhood of Harper's Ferry, especially
when the actors in the scenes, as in this case, were identified closely
with that place and had daily business relations with its people. Some
sixty years ago, there lived near Kabletown in the upper part of
Jefferson county, a Scotchman, named McFillan, who was overseer on a
plantation belonging to a Mrs. Hunter. He was a man of dissipated
habits, and some person whom he had offended informed his employer in an
anonymous note that he was neglecting his duties. On being taken to task
by Mrs. Hunter, McFillan at once concluded that the author of the note
was a neighbor named Chamberlain with whom he had had some quarrel. In a
short time after McFillan and his supposed enemy encountered one another
at a blacksmith's shop in Kabletown and, the former charging the latter
with the authorship of the letter, fight took place between them, when
Chamberlain struck McFillan on the head with a stone, injuring him
severely. Before any great length of time the wounded man died and, it
being supposed that his death was caused by the injury received from
Chamberlain, a coroner's inquiry was held over the remains and a
post-mortem examination was made by Dr. Creamer, a physician of local
celebrity in those days. Chamberlain was put on trial in Charlestown
and, as the fact of his having struck the deceased was notorious, he
based his defense on the probability that McFillan had come to his death
by dissipation. Dr. Creamer's evidence favored the prisoner's theory,
and, as the utmost confidence was felt generally in the doctor's ability
and integrity, the accused was acquitted. Why the doctor did not so
testify before the coroner's jury, the tradition does not tell.

In some time after the trial a man named Jenkins moved into the
neighborhood of Kabletown and took up his residence in the house
formerly occupied by McFillan and in which he had died. Jenkins was a
bachelor and he lived without any company, except that of some slaves
whom he had brought with him. Feeling lonely, he extended an invitation
to the young men of the vicinity to visit him and assist him to pass
away the long winter evenings in a social game of "old sledge" or
"three-trick loo." One night Chamberlain visited him and engaged at a
game. Their conversation was cheerful and not, at all, calculated to
excite their imaginations disagreeably. While they were playing, a
shuffling of feet was heard in the hall and, presently, a knock was
given at the room door. Jenkins said, "walk in," when the door was
opened and in came two men who were strangers to the proprietor.
Chamberlain instantly fell to the floor in a swoon and Jenkins jumped up
to assist him. While stooping to help his friend, the host, of course,
took his eyes from the strangers and when he had succeeded in lifting
Chamberlain to a seat, they had vanished unseen and unheard by any other
person about the house. The <DW64>s, on being questioned, denied
positively their having heard or seen them arrive or depart, and it was
impossible that any one in the flesh could enter the house and proceed
to the room occupied by Jenkins and Chamberlain, without being
discovered by the servants. Chamberlain exhibited signs of the most
abject terror and his host was obliged to send some five or six of his
slaves to accompany him to his home. Of course, the matter got noised
abroad and the neighbors eagerly questioned Jenkins about it, but he
could give no explanation of it, beyond describing the appearance of the
strangers. The description of one of them answered exactly to that of
McFillan. The height, make, complexion and dress of the supposed spectre
corresponded closely with those of the deceased overseer and the other
equally resembled Chamberlain's father who had been dead some years. The
latter apparition wore the peculiar dress of the Society of Friends of
which the old gentleman had been a member and, in other respects, its
description coincided exactly with that of the deceased Quaker. Of
course, no one ventured to question Chamberlain on the subject, but it
is religiously believed in the neighborhood that the apparitions were
the ghosts of the men whom they so much resembled, but why they should
travel in company or what the object of their visit was is as much of a
mystery as the dream which suggested this episode. Jenkins had never
before seen either of them, being as before noted, a stranger in the
neighborhood and, certainly there was no reason why =his= imagination
should conjure up those apparitions.

Whatever skepticism may be entertained about the matter, it is certain
that Jenkins, to the day of his death, persisted in his statement, and
there was no man in the county of a higher character than he for
veracity. It is said that never after that night did Chamberlain sleep
in a dark room, but that he always kept a light burning in his bed
chamber, from the time he retired to rest until daylight. He met his
death many years afterwards in a singular manner. He was riding one day
in a wagon over a rough road. In the bed of the wagon was a loaded
musket with the muzzle of the barrel pointing towards him. In some way
the musket was discharged and the bullet killed Chamberlain. It was
claimed by some who, perhaps, were interested in having it appear so,
that the jolting of the wagon caused the discharge of the gun, but no
one attempted to explain how the weapon was cocked or why the bullet did
not pass under the driver's seat, instead of through his body. Many ugly
rumors floated around for some time in connection with the affair, but
the writer does not feel at liberty to give them further currency. All
the parties concerned are now dead, and let no one disturb their repose
by rehashing what may have been mere slander or idle gossip. During Mr.
Clowe's time as superintendent--in 1857--died at Harper's Ferry, John,
commonly known as "Lawyer" Barnett, who was in his way, quite a
celebrity. He was by trade a carpenter and he had the reputation of
being an excellent mechanic. Like many other deluded visionaries, he
conceived that he had discovered a principle on which perpetual motion
could be produced and, for many years, he devoted his energies, spent
his earnings and tried the patience of his friends, in the construction
of a machine illustrative of his idea, and explaining his theory to any
person willing to listen. His device was certainly very ingenious but
marvelously complicated and when set in motion, it terrified, with its
unearthly noises, his timid neighbors, many of whom looked with
superstitious awe on the mysterious fabric and its uncanny inventor. The
poor "Lawyer," however, was the most harmless of mankind and the last
man that his friends should suspect of being in league with the powers
of darkness. If any compact existed the poor fellow's appearance
certainly did not indicate any accession of wealth, as he always went
about dressed like a scare-crow, his rags fluttering in the breeze,
betokening the most abject poverty. He always carried a thick cudgel and
was accompanied by a ferocious looking bull dog. The latter was,
however, as harmless as his master and, for all that any one knew, as
much abstracted in the contemplation of some problem of interest to his
canine friends. Barnett, like many other great men, would take sprees
occasionally, and the poor fellow died one night in one of his drinking
bouts, at his solitary bachelor home, and his face was devoured by rats
before his death was discovered by his neighbors. It need not be said
that he did not accomplish the impossibility he had proposed to himself,
and his machine now lies in a garret almost forgotten. Had the "Lawyer"
been a married man he would not have met so appalling a fate and,
besides, if we may rehash a stale joke on the ladies, he might have got
some valuable hints from his wife's tongue and accomplished something
for science.

Mr. Clowe was succeeded in January, 1859, by Alfred M. Barbour, a young
lawyer from western Virginia, whose administration was the most eventful
in the history of the place, as it was during that period that the great
civil war broke out which, as is well known, caused the total
destruction of the armory works. Other remarkable events, however,
occurred in Mr. Barbour's time which were precursors of the subsequent
great evils and foreshadowed the final catastrophe. These will be
narrated in the next chapter.

On the 28th day of June, 1859, a memorable tornado swept over the place.
About 3 o'clock in the afternoon a thunder storm came up and two clouds
were noticed approaching each other, driven by currents of wind from
opposite directions. When they encountered one another, a fierce flash
of lightning followed by an appalling thunder peal, lit up the heavens.
Rain poured down in cataracts, and, as if Aeolus had suddenly released
all his boisterous subjects, the winds rushed from all quarters and came
in conflict in the gap through which the Potomac finds its way to the
Ocean. In the war of winds a fine covered bridge that crossed the
Shenandoah about three hundred yards above the mouth of that river was
lifted from its piers and completely overturned into the bed of the
stream. Mrs. Sloan, a respectable old lady, happened to be on the bridge
at the time and, of course, was carried with it into the river. She was
found shortly after, standing up in a shallow place, and completely
covered over with the debris of the wrecked bridge, but fortunately,
and almost miraculously, she received very little injury.

Having given a sketch of each of the superintendents, the writer thinks
a notice due to the master-armorers, also. Originally, the
superintendents were styled master-armorers, and Messrs. Perkins and
Stubblefield went by this appellation officially. In 1815, however, the
latter gentleman was allowed an assistant to whom that title was
transferred, and that of superintendent was given to the principal
officer. In the above mentioned year, Armistead Beckham was appointed to
the second office in the armory. He was a high-minded gentleman who did
his duty regardless of the clamor of factions and with a stern resolve
to do justice--a difficult task during a portion of his time, as the
administration at Washington was democratic and Mr. Beckham was always
much opposed to President Jackson. The latter, however, could not be
induced to dismiss the honest master-armorer--such was the respect
entertained for the character of that gentleman. In 1830 Mr. Beckham
exchanged with Benjamin Moore, who occupied a similar position in
Pittsburg, each taking the place of the other. In some time after, Mr.
Beckham was appointed superintendent of the Western Penitentiary of
Pennsylvania, in Allegheny City, which position he held until his death,
many years after.

Benjamin Moore was a remarkable person. He was a fine specimen of the
physical man and his mind was on the same scale as his body. He occupied
the position of master-armorer at Harper's Ferry for nineteen years and,
during that time, he introduced an improvement into the manufacture of
arms which is universally admitted to be of utmost advantage, but for
which neither he nor his heirs ever received compensation, although a
claim for it has been pending for many years. His invention was that of
the interchange of the component parts of a gun, which means that any
particular part will suit any gun. The advantage of this plan in field
operations must be at once apparent as, from piles composed of the
various parts of a rifle or musket, a gun can be extemporized to
replace one rendered useless by accident. It is to be hoped that his
descendants may yet reap the benefit of his ingenuity and that justice
may at length be done to the heirs of a man who did so much for the
efficiency of our armies.

Like many other men of studious minds, Mr. Moore had, in many things, a
child-like simplicity. His son, Thomas, was a man of great talent and,
in almost every field of art, his ability was apparent. Among other
agreeable gifts, he possessed that of consummate mimicry. Sometimes he
would disguise himself in the garb of a beggar and meet his father with
the most piteous tale of distress, which never failed to work on the old
gentleman's sympathies to the opening of his purse. Many a dollar did
the son thus obtain from the benevolent father and, when the young man
would throw off his disguise and make himself known, nobody enjoyed the
deception better than the victim. Next day, however, the father was just
as liable to be taken in as before, such was his abstraction of mind,
caused by intense thought on the subject of his invention. He died some
forty years ago, at a ripe old age, covered with honors and with the
happy assurance of the rewards promised for a well-spent life.

Mr. Moore was succeeded in 1849 by James Burton, a young man whose whole
previous life had been devoted to the service of the government at
Harper's Ferry. He was a fine musician and a man of varied
accomplishments. In 1853, he was appointed by the British government to
superintend the manufacture of their Enfield rifle. Shortly before our
civil war, he returned to his native country, and, while the struggle
was in progress, he superintended the manufacture of arms in Richmond.
Mr. Burton died a few years ago in Winchester, Virginia.

He was succeeded in 1853 by Samuel Byington, a good-natured, easy-going
man, who was much respected by all at Harper's Ferry. He died, during
the civil war, at Washington City, to which place he had moved in 1858.

Mr. Byington was succeeded in the year last mentioned, by Benjamin
Mills, a practical gunsmith, of Harrodsburg, Kentucky. Mr. Mills did
not reside very long at Harper's Ferry, returning, in the autumn of
1859, to his former residence. During his stay, however, he met with an
adventure which will be related in the next chapter, and it can be
safely said that, in his experience in the west, he scarcely met with
anything that made a deeper impression on him than what he encountered
on this occasion, or which will bide longer in his memory.

Mr. Mills was succeeded, in 1859, by Armistead M. Ball, a man of
remarkable powers as a machinist. He participated in Mr. Mills'
adventure and, like the latter, no doubt, had a lively recollection of
the affair until his death, which occurred in 1861.

The capacity of the Harper's Ferry armory was from fifteen hundred to
two thousand guns a month, and the muskets and rifles manufactured there
were, generally, considered the best in the world. A good deal has been
heard of the needle-gun, the Chassepot and other guns used by various
nations, which may be all that is claimed for them, but the Harper's
Ferry Rifle Yerger enjoyed in its day a reputation second to no weapon
of the small arms kind under the sun, and it is very doubtful if it will
be much excelled hereafter, notwithstanding the many improvements we
hear of year after year. In the war of the rebellion it went by the name
of the Mississippi Rifle because the troops of that state were the first
of the Confederates to be armed with it.




CHAPTER IV.

THE BROWN RAID.


In the summer of 1859, a party of strangers made their appearance at
Sandy Hook, a small village of Washington county, Maryland, in the
immediate vicinity of Harper's Ferry. With them was an old man of
venerable appearance and austere demeanor who called himself Isaac
Smith. They represented themselves as being prospecting for minerals,
and they took frequent and long rambles, with this ostensible purpose,
over the various peaks of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Since the first
settlement of Harper's Ferry, it has been believed that, in the earth
beneath the wild crags of the Maryland and Loudoun Heights, mines of
different metals and of fabulous value are hidden, awaiting the eye of
science and the hand of industry to discover and develop them. Many of
the citizens of the place, from time to time, have supposed that they
had found them and no small excitement has been aroused on this account
by sanguine explorers. Specimens of different kinds of valuable ore or
what was supposed to be such, were sent to Boston and subjected to
chemical analysis and very favorable reports were returned by the most
eminent chemists and geologists of the Athens of America. No wonder was
felt, therefore, at the appearance of the party, and their expedition
over the tortuous and difficult paths of the mountains excited no
suspicion. At first, they boarded at the house of Mr. Ormond Butler,
where their conduct was unexceptionable. They paid in gold for whatever
they purchased and, as their manners were courteous to all, they were,
on the whole, very much liked by Mr. Butler's family and his guests.
After a week's stay at Sandy Hook, they removed to what is known as "the
Kennedy Farm" about five miles from Harper's Ferry, on the Maryland side
of the Potomac, where they established their headquarters. While at this
place, Smith and his party, of whom three were his sons, made
themselves very agreeable to their neighbors and they were as popular
there as they had been at Sandy Hook. The father was regarded as a man
of stern morality, devoted to church exercises, and the sons, with the
others of the party, as good-natured, amiable, young men. Thus things
continued 'till the night of Sunday, October 16th, 1859. On that night
about 10 o'clock, Mr. William Williams, one of the watchmen on the
railroad bridge, was surprised to find himself taken prisoner by an
armed party, consisting of about twenty men, who suddenly made their
appearance from the Maryland side of the river. Most of the party then
proceeded to the armory enclosure, taking with them their prisoner, and
leaving two men to guard the bridge. They next captured Daniel Whelan,
one of the watchmen at the armory, who was posted at the front gate, and
they took possession of that establishment. The party then separated
into two bodies--one remaining in the armory and the other proceeding to
the rifle factory, half a mile up the Shenandoah, where they captured
Mr. Samuel Williams--father of William Williams before mentioned--an old
and highly respected man, who was in charge of that place as night
watchman. He, too, was conducted to the armory where the other prisoners
were confined, and a detachment of the strangers was left to supply his
place. About 12 o'clock--midnight--Mr. Patrick Higgins, of Sandy Hook,
arrived on the bridge, for the purpose of relieving Mr. William
Williams. They were both in the employment of the Baltimore and Ohio
railroad company as watchmen, and each used to serve twelve hours of the
twenty-four on duty. Higgins found all in darkness on the bridge and,
suspecting that something had gone wrong with Williams, he called loudly
for him. To his astonishment he was ordered to halt and two men
presented guns at his breast, at the same time telling him that he was
their prisoner. One of them undertook to conduct him to the armory, but,
on their arriving at a point near the Virginia end of the bridge, the
hot-blooded Celt struck his captor a stunning blow with his fist, and,
before the stranger could recover from its effects, Higgins had
succeeded in escaping to Fouke's hotel, where he eluded pursuit. Several
shots were fired after him without effect, and he attributes his safety
to the fact that his pursuers, while in the act of firing, stumbled in
the darkness over some cross pieces in the bridge, and had their aim
disconcerted. About this time a party of the invaders went to the houses
of Messrs. Lewis Washington and John Alstadt, living a few miles from
Harper's Ferry, and took them and some of their slaves prisoners,
conducting them to the general rendezvous for themselves and their
captives--the armory enclosure. From the house of the former they took
some relics of the great Washington and the Revolution, which the
proprietor, of course, very highly prized. Among them was a sword, said
to be the same that was sent to the "Father of his Country" by Frederick
the Great, King of Prussia--a present, as a legend inscribed on it said,
"from the oldest General of the time to the best." All through the
night, great excitement existed among such of the citizens as became
cognizant of these facts. There happened to be, at the time, protracted
meetings at nearly all of the Methodist churches in the town and
neighborhood, and the members, returning home late, were taken prisoners
in detail, until the armory enclosure contained a great many captives,
who were unable to communicate to their friends an account of their
situation.

About one o'clock a.m., Monday, the east bound express train, on the
Baltimore and Ohio railroad, arrived in charge of Conductor Phelps. The
train was detained by order of the leader of the band, and the telegraph
wires were cut. The object of these orders was, of course, to prevent
news of the invasion from being spread. The train was allowed to
proceed, however, after a considerable delay. While the train was at
Harper's Ferry, great alarm naturally existed among the passengers who
could not understand these movements. Several shots were exchanged
between the attacking force and a Mr. Throckmorton, clerk at Fouke's
hotel, and some other parties unknown, but no person was injured. Some
time in the course of the night, Heywood Shepherd, a  porter at
the railroad office, walked to the bridge, impelled, no doubt, by
curiosity to understand the enigma. He was ordered to halt by the guards
at the bridge and being seized with a panic and running back, he was
shot through the body. He succeeded in reaching the railroad office,
where he died next day at 3 o'clock, in great agony.

A little before daylight, some early risers were surprised to find
themselves taken prisoners, as soon as they appeared on the streets.
Among them was James Darrell, aged about sixty-five years, the
bell-ringer at the armory, whose duties, of course, compelled him to be
the first of the hands at his post. It being yet dark, he carried a
lantern. When near the gate, he was halted by an armed <DW64>, one of the
invading party, and, Darrell, not dreaming of what was transpiring and
mistaking his challenger for one of Mr. Fouke's slaves on a "drunk,"
struck the <DW64> with his lantern and consigned his "black soul" to a
climate of much higher temperature than that of Virginia. The <DW64>
presented a Sharp's rifle at Darrell and, no doubt, the situation of
bell-ringer at Harper's Ferry armory would have been very soon vacant
had not a white man of the stranger party who appeared to relish very
highly the joke of the mistake, caught the gun and prevented the <DW64>
from carrying out his intention. Another white man of the party,
however, came up and struck Darrell on the side with the butt of his
gun, injuring him severely. Darrell was then dragged before "the
captain" who, pitying his age and his bodily sufferings, dismissed him
on a sort of parole. Mr. Walter Kemp, an aged, infirm man, bartender at
Fouke's hotel, was taken prisoner about this time and consigned to Limbo
with the others.

It was, now, daylight and the armorers proceeded singly or in parties of
two or three from their various homes to work at the shops. They were
gobbled up in detail and marched to prison, lost in astonishment at the
strange doings and many, perhaps, doubting if they were not yet asleep
and dreaming. Several of the officers of the armory were captured, but
the superintendent not being in the town at the time, the invaders
missed what, no doubt, would have been to them a rich prize. About this
time, Mr. George W. Cutshaw, an old and estimable citizen of the place,
proceeded from his house on High street, towards the Potomac bridge, in
company with a lady who was on her way to Washington City and whom Mr.
Cutshaw was escorting across the river, to the place where the canal
packetboat on which she intended to travel, was tied up. He passed along
unmolested until he disposed of his charge, but, on his return, he
encountered on the bridge several armed apparitions--one of them, an old
man of commanding presence, appearing to be the leader. Mr. Cutshaw, who
was "a man of infinite jest," used to relate in the humorous manner
peculiar to himself, how he, on first seeing them, took up the thought
that a great robbery had been committed somewhere and that the tall,
stern figure before him was some famous detective, employed to discover
and arrest the perpetrators, while the minor personages were his
assistants. He was halted, but, being in a hurry for his breakfast, he
was moving on, when he received another and peremptory challenge. At
last he said impatiently, "let me go on! What do =I= know about your
robberies?" These were unfortunate words for Cutshaw, as they gave the
chief to understand that his party were suspected of an intention to
plunder--an imputation which the old warrior very highly resented. Mr.
Cutshaw was, therefore, immediately marched off to the armory and placed
among the other prisoners, where "the Captain" kept a close eye on him
until his attention was engrossed by the subsequent skirmish.

A little before 7 o'clock a.m., Mr. Alexander Kelly approached the
corner of High and Shenandoah streets, armed with a shotgun, for the
purpose of discharging it at the invaders. No sooner did he turn the
corner than two shots were fired at him and a bullet was sent through
his hat. Immediately afterwards, Mr. Thomas Boerly approached the same
corner with the same purpose. He was a man of herculean strength and
great personal courage. He discharged his gun at some of the enemy who
were standing at the arsenal gate, when a shot was fired at him by one
of the party who was crouching behind the arsenal fence. The bullet
penetrated his groin, inflicting a ghastly wound, of which he died in a
few hours.

The writer of these annals met with an adventure on this occasion which,
though it partook largely of romance to which he is much addicted, was
anything but agreeable. Sharing in the general curiosity to know what it
was all about, he imprudently walked down High street to Shenandoah
street. At the arsenal gate he encountered four armed men--two white and
two black. Not being conscious of guilt he thought he had no reason to
fear anybody. The four guards saluted him civilly and one of the white
men asked him if he owned any slaves. On his answering in the negative,
the strangers told him that there was a movement on foot that would
benefit him and all persons who did not own such property. The writer
passed on strongly impressed with the thought that, sure enough, there
was something in the wind. He then looked in at the prisoners, among
whom was Mr. Thomas Gallaher, to whom he spoke. The invaders had ceased
some time before from making prisoners, as they thought they now had as
many as they could well manage. This accounts for the writer's escape
from arrest when he first exposed himself to capture. The leader of the
party approached the writer on his speaking to Gallaher, and ordered him
off the street, telling him, that it was against military law to talk
with prisoners. Not conceiving that this stranger had a right to order
him off so unceremoniously and not being at the best of times of a very
patient temper, the historian refused to comply, when a pistol was
presented at his breast by the captain, which obliged him to duck a
little and take shelter behind a brick pillar in the wall that enclosed
the armory grounds. The commander then called out to the same men whom
the writer had encountered at the arsenal gate, on the opposite side of
the street, and who were not thirty yards off when the encounter with
the chief took place. He ordered them to shoot or to arrest the
historian and they at once prepared to obey the order. Not relishing
either alternative of death or imprisonment, the writer dodged up the
alleyway that ran along the sidewall of the armory yard, and, in order
to disconcert their aim, he took a zigzag course which probably would
not have been enough to save him from four bullets shot after him in a
narrow alley by experienced marksmen, had not aid come from an
unexpected source. And, now, for the romance. A <DW52> woman, who was
crouching in a doorway in the alley, rushed out between him and the
guns, and, extending her arms, begged of the men not to shoot. They did
not shoot and the present generation has not lost and posterity will not
be deprived of this history, a calamity which, without the intervention
of a miracle, their shooting would have entailed. Ever since, the writer
has claimed great credit to himself for presence of mind in thinking of
the "zigzag," under these trying circumstances, but his friends
maliciously insinuate that absence of body did more to save him than
presence of mind. He takes consolation, however, by comparing himself to
the great John Smith, the first white explorer of Virginia, who was once
in an equally bad fix and was saved by the timely intervention of
another dusky maiden. The heroine who, in the present case, conferred so
great a blessing on posterity, was Hannah, a slave belonging to Mrs.
Margaret Carroll, of Harper's Ferry, and her name will be embalmed in
history, like that of Pocahontas, and it will be more gratefully
remembered than that of the Indian maiden, by future readers of this
veracious story, who will consider themselves--partly at least--indebted
to her for an unparalleled intellectual treat.

It was now breakfast time and "the captain" sent an order to Fouke's
hotel for refreshments for his men. The state of his exchequer is not
known, but he did not pay for the meals in any usual species of
currency. He released Walter, familiarly called "Watty" Kemp, the
bartender at Fouke's and he announced this as the equivalent he was
willing to pay. It is to be feared that the landlord did not duly
appreciate the advantages he gained by this profitable bargain, and it
may be that "Uncle Watty" himself did not feel much flattered at the
estimate put on him in the terms of the ransom and his being valued at
the price of twenty breakfasts. Be this as it may, the bargain was
struck and the meals furnished. The leader of the raiders invited his
prisoners to partake of the provisions as far as they would go 'round,
but only a few accepted the hospitable offer for fear of the food's
being drugged.

Up to this time no person in the town, except the prisoners, could tell
who the strange party were. To the captives, as was ascertained
afterwards, the strangers confessed their purpose of liberating the
slaves of Virginia, and freedom was offered to any one in durance who
would furnish a <DW64> man as a recruit for the "army of the Lord."
However, as there was little or no communication allowed between the
prisoners and their friends outside, the people, generally, were yet
ignorant of the names and purposes of the invaders and, as may be
believed, Madam Rumor had plenty of employment for her hundred tongues.
Soon, however, they were recognized by some one as the explorers for
minerals and then suspicion at once rested on a young man named John E.
Cook, who had sojourned at Harper's Ferry for some years, in the various
capacities of schoolmaster, book agent and lock-keeper on the Chesapeake
and Ohio canal and who had married into a reputable family at the place.
He had been seen associating with the Smith party and, as he had been
often heard to boast of his exploits in "the Kansas war," on the Free
Soil side, it was instinctively guessed that he and the Smiths were
connected in some project for freeing the slaves and this opinion was
confirmed by the fact of there being <DW64>s in the party. Shortly
after, a new light broke on the people and it was ascertained, in some
way, that "the captain" was no other than the redoubtable John Brown, of
Kansas fame, who had earned the title of "Ossawattomie Brown" from his
exploits in the portion of Kansas along the banks of Ossawattomie
river. The information came from one of the prisoners--Mr. Mills--who
was allowed to communicate with his family.

At the regular hour for commencing work in the morning, Mr. Daniel J.
Young, master machinist at the rifle factory, approached the gate to
these shops, expecting to find Mr. Samuel Williams at his post, as
watchman, and little anticipating to find the place in possession of an
enemy. He was met at the gate by a fierce-looking man, fully armed, who
refused him admittance, claiming that he and his companions--four or
five of whom appeared at the watch house door, on hearing the
conversation--had got possession by authority from the Great Jehovah.
Mr. Young, being naturally astonished at hearing this, asked what the
object of the strangers was and learned that they had come to give
freedom to the slaves of Virginia; that the friends of liberty had tried
all constitutional and peaceable means to accomplish this end and had
failed signally, but that, now the great evil of slavery must be
eradicated at any risk and that there were resources enough ready for
the accomplishment of this purpose. Mr. Young said in reply: "If you
derive your authority from the Almighty I must yield as I get my right
to enter only from an earthly power--the government of the United
States. I warn you, however, that, before this day's sun shall have set,
you and your companions will be corpses." Mr. Young then went back to
stop the mechanics and laborers who were on their way to go to work and
warn them of their danger. It appeared to be no part of the policy of
the strangers to keep prisoners at the rifle works, as no attempt was
made to arrest Mr. Young. This gentleman, it may be remarked, became
conspicuous afterwards for his adhesion to the cause of the Union.
During the war, he was in charge of the ordnance at Harper's Ferry, with
the rank of captain. Soon after the close of hostilities he received a
commission in the regular army with the same rank, and, after having
served the government for a long time, at various points, he was retired
some years ago, and took up his residence at Troy, New York, where he
died in 1893.

About 9 o'clock, a.m., the people had recovered from their amazement and
sought for arms wherever they thought they could find any. It was no
easy matter to find effective weapons, as the arsenal and nearly all the
storehouses were in possession of the enemy. It was remembered, however
that, some time before, a lot of guns had been removed from the place
where they were usually stored, in order to protect them from the river
which, at the time, had overflowed its banks and encroached on the
armory grounds and buildings. The arms were put away in a building
situated far above high water mark and the strangers knew not of their
existence. Enough was procured from this lot to equip a few small
companies of citizens and a desultory skirmish commenced around the
armory buildings and the adjacent streets which continued all day. A
company under Captain Henry Medler crossed the Shenandoah on the bridge
and took post on the Loudoun side of the river, opposite the rifle
works. Another company under Captain Hezekiah Roderick, took position on
the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, northwest of the armory, and a third
body, under Captain William H. Moore, crossed the Potomac about a mile
above Harper's Ferry and marched down on the Maryland side to take
possession of the railroad bridge. Thus Brown's party were hemmed in and
all the citizens who were not enrolled in any of these companies engaged
the invaders wherever they could meet them. The rifle factory was
attacked and the strangers there posted were soon driven into the
Shenandoah where they were met by the fire of Captain Medler's men who
had crossed the river on the bridge, and, between the two fires, they
all perished, except one--a <DW64> named Copeland, who was taken
prisoner. It is said that one of the citizens named James Holt, waded
into the river after one of the enemy who had reached a rock in the
stream, knocked him down with his fist and disarmed him. Whether it was
Copeland or one of those who were afterwards killed that was thus
knocked down the writer is not informed, but that Holt performed this
feat is undoubted.

At the armory proper, however, where Brown commanded in person, a more
determined resistance was made. Brown had told several of his prisoners
in the course of the morning that he expected large re-inforcements and
when, about noon, the company of citizens under Captain Moore, that had
crossed into Maryland, was seen marching down the river road great
excitement prevailed, it being supposed by the prisoners and such of the
other citizens as were not aware of Captain Moore's movements and,
perhaps, by Brown's party, that these were, sure enough, allies of the
invaders. Soon, however, it was ascertained who they were and Brown now
seeing that the fortune of the day was against him sent two of his
prisoners, Archibald M. Kitzmiller and Rezin Cross, under guard of two
of his men, to negotiate in his name with Captain Moore for permission
to vacate the place with his surviving men without molestation. The two
ambassadors proceeded with their guards towards the bridge, but when
they came near the "Gault House" several shots were fired from that
building by which both of the guards were wounded severely and put hors
de combat. One of them contrived to make his way back to the armory, but
the other was unable to move without assistance and Messrs. Kitzmiller
and Cross helped him into Fouke's hotel, where his wounds were dressed.
It will be believed that neither of the envoys was foolish enough, like
Regulus of old, to return to captivity. Brown, finding that his doves
did not come back with the olive branch and now despairing of success,
called in from the streets the survivors of his party and, picking out
nine of the most prominent of his prisoners as hostages, he retreated
into a small brick building near the armory gate, called "the engine
house," taking with him the nine citizens. This little building was
afterwards famous under the name of "John Brown's Fort," and, from the
time of the invasion until the spring of 1892, it was an object of great
curiosity to strangers visiting the place. It was sold at the time last
mentioned to a company of speculators for exhibition at the World's Fair
in Chicago, and with it much of the glory of Harper's Ferry departed
forever. About the year 1895, it was repurchased and reshipped to
Harper's Ferry by the late Miss Kate Fields, and it is now to be seen
about two miles from its original site on the farm of Mr. Alexander
Murphy. Of course, the bricks are not relaid in their original order and
the death of Miss Fields makes its restoration to anything like its old
self very improbable. About the time when Brown immured himself, a
company of Berkeley county militia arrived from Martinsburg who, with
some citizens of Harper's Ferry and the surrounding country made a rush
on the armory and released the great mass of the prisoners outside of
the engine house, not, however, without suffering some loss from a
galling fire kept up by the enemy from "the fort." Brown's men had
pierced the walls for musketry and through the holes kept up a brisk
fusillade by which they wounded many of the Martinsburg and Harper's
Ferry people and some Charlestown men who, too, had come to take part in
the fray. The sufferers were Messrs. Murphy, Richardson, Hammond,
Dorsey, Hooper and Wollett, of Martinsburg; Mr. Young, of Charlestown,
and Mr. Edward McCabe, of Harper's Ferry. Mr. Dorsey was wounded very
dangerously and several of the others were injured severely. All got
well again, however, except one, whose hand was disabled permanently.

Before Brown's retreat to the fort, two of his men approached the corner
of High and Shenandoah streets, where Mr. Boerly had been shot in the
morning. It was then about 2 o'clock p.m. and Mr. George Turner a very
respected gentleman of Jefferson county who had come to town on private
business was standing at the door of Captain Moore's house on High
street about seventy-five yards from the corner above mentioned. He had
armed himself with a musket and was in the act of resting it on a board
fence near the door to take aim at one of those men when a bullet from a
Sharp's rifle struck him in the shoulder--the only part of him that was
exposed. The ball after taking an eccentric course entered his neck and
killed him almost instantly. A physician who examined his body
described the wound as having been of the strangest kind the bullet
having taken a course entirely at variance with the laws supposed to
prevail with such projectiles. It was thought by many that the shot was
not aimed at Mr. Turner and that the man who fired it was not aware of
that gentleman's being near. There were two citizens named McClenan and
Stedman in the middle of the street opposite to Captain Moore's house.
They had guns in their hands and at one of =them= it is supposed was
aimed the shot that proved fatal to Mr. Turner.

After this shooting the two strangers immediately retreated and a
ludicrous occurrence took place if indeed, any event of that ill-omened
day can be supposed to be calculated to excite merriment. Mr. John
McClenan--above mentioned--shot after them and his bullet striking the
cartridge box of one of them, as he was approaching the armory gate, an
explosion of his ammunition took place and he entered the gate amid a
display of fireworks of a novel description. Apparently, he did not
relish the honors paid him and, with accelerated pace, he took refuge
with his company in the engine house.

The strangers continued to fire from their fortress and they now killed
another very valuable citizen--Fountain Beckham, for many years agent of
the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company at Harper's Ferry, and long a
magistrate of Jefferson county. Being a man of nervous temperament he
was naturally much excited by the occurrences of the day. Moreover,
Heywood Shepherd, the <DW64> shot on the railroad bridge on the previous
night, had been his faithful servant and he was much grieved and very
indignant at his death. Against the remonstrances of several friends he
determined to take a close look at the enemy. He crept along the
railroad, under shelter of a watering station, which then stood there
and peeped 'round the corner of the building at the engine house
opposite, when a bullet from one of Brown's men penetrated his heart and
he died instantly. A man named Thompson, said to be Brown's son-in-law,
had been taken prisoner a short time before by the citizens and confined
in Fouke's hotel under a guard. At first it was the intention of the
people to hand him over to the regular authorities for trial, but the
killing of Mr. Beckham so exasperated them that the current of their
feelings was changed. They rushed into the hotel, seized Thompson and
were dragging him out of the house to put him to death, when Miss
Christina Fouke, a sister of the proprietor, with true feminine
instinct, ran into the crowd and besought the infuriated multitude to
spare the prisoner's life. This noble act has elicited the warmest
commendations from every party and it may be considered the one
redeeming incident in the gloomy history of that unfortunate day. Miss
Fouke's entreaties were unheeded, however, and Thompson was hurried to
the railroad bridge, where he was riddled with bullets. He tried to
escape by letting himself drop through the bridge into the river. He had
been left for dead, but he had vitality enough remaining to accomplish
this feat. He was discovered and another shower of bullets was
discharged at him. He was either killed by the shots or drowned and, for
a day or two, his body could be seen lying at the bottom of the river,
with his ghastly face still showing what a fearful death agony he had
experienced.

Another of the invaders, named Lehman, attempted to escape from the
upper end of the armory grounds by swimming or wading the Potomac. He
had been seen shortly before conducting one of the armory watchmen,
named Edward Murphy, towards the engine house. He kept his prisoner
between himself and an armed party of citizens who were stationed on a
hill near the government works. More than a dozen guns were raised to
shoot him by the excited crowd and, no doubt, he and Murphy would have
been killed had not Mr. Zedoc Butt, an old citizen, induced the party
not to fire, in consideration of the danger to the innocent watchman.
Immediately afterwards, Lehman disappeared for a while, but soon he was
seen endeavoring to escape as above mentioned. A volley was fired after
him and he must have been wounded, as he lay down and threw up both his
arms, as if surrendering. A temporary resident of Harper's Ferry waded
through the river to a rock on which Lehman lay, apparently disabled,
and deliberately shot him through the head, killing him instantly. =His=
body, too, lay for a considerable time where he fell, and it could be
seen plainly from the high ground west of the armory. The slayer now
asserts that Lehman first drew his pistol to shoot at him.

A little before night Brown asked if any of his captives would volunteer
to go out among the citizens and induce them to cease firing on the
fort, as they were endangering the lives of their friends--the
prisoners. He promised on his part that, if there was no more firing on
his men, there should be none by them on the besiegers. Mr. Israel
Russel undertook the dangerous duty--the risk arose from the excited
state of the people who would be likely to fire on anything seen
stirring around the prison house--and the citizens were persuaded to
stop firing in consideration of the danger incurred of injuring the
prisoners. Like Messrs. Kitzmiller and Cross, Mr. Russel, it will be
readily supposed, did not return to captivity. It is certain that the
people of the place would have disposed of Brown and his party in a very
short time, had they not been prevented all along from pushing the siege
vigorously, by a regard for the lives of their fellow townsmen, who were
prisoners. As it was, they had killed, wounded or dispersed more than
three-fourths of the raiders and, consequently, the sneers that were
afterwards thrown out against their bravery, were entirely uncalled for
and were by parties who, in the subsequent war, did not exhibit much of
the reckless courage which they expected from peaceful citizens, taken
by surprise and totally at a loss for information as to the numbers and
resources of their enemies.

It was now dark and the wildest excitement existed in the town,
especially among the friends of the killed, wounded and prisoners of the
citizens' party. It had rained some little all day and the atmosphere
was raw and cold. Now, a cloudy and moonless sky hung like a pall over
the scene of war and, on the whole, a more dismal night cannot be
imagined. Guards were stationed 'round the engine house to prevent
Brown's escape and, as forces were constantly arriving from Winchester,
Frederick City, Baltimore and other places to help the Harper's Ferry
people, the town soon assumed quite a military appearance. The United
States' authorities in Washington had been notified in the meantime,
and, in the course of the night, Colonel Robert E. Lee, afterwards the
famous General Lee of the Southern Confederacy, arrived with a force of
United States' marines, to protect the interests of the government, and
kill or capture the invaders. About 11 o'clock at night Brown again
endeavored to open negotiations for a safe conduct for himself and his
men out of the place. Colonel Shriver and Captain Sinn, of the Frederick
troops, had a conference with him which, however, did not result in
anything satisfactory. About 7 o'clock on Tuesday morning--October
18th--Colonel Lee sent, under a flag of truce, Lieutenant J. E. B.
Stuart, of the 1st Cavalry regiment--afterwards so famous for his
exploits in the service of the confederacy--who had accompanied Colonel
Lee from Washington, to summon the garrison to surrender. Knowing the
character of Brown, Colonel Lee did not hope for any success in trying
to induce him to lay down his arms, and he sent Lieutenant Stuart merely
through solicitude for the prisoners and a desire to use every expedient
in his power before ordering an assault and subjecting them to the
danger of being injured by mistake in the melee. As anticipated, Brown
stubbornly refused to surrender and, therefore, about 8 o'clock, an
attack was made by the marines under Lieutenant Greene. At first, they
tried to break open the door with sledge hammers, but failing in this
they picked up a large ladder that lay near and with that used as a
battering ram they succeeded in making a breach. Through a narrow
opening thus made, Lieutenant Greene squeezed himself, but he found that
the insurgents had barricaded the door with a fire engine and hose that
were in the building. Over these obstructions Lieutenant Green
scrambled, followed by his men and attacked Brown who, with his party,
was fortified behind the engine. It is said that one of Brown's men
offered to surrender and that Brown announced the man's willingness to
do so, but, for some reason, the offer was not accepted. While the
marines were effecting a breach and when they commenced to rush in, the
enemy fired on them and one of the soldiers--Luke Quinn--was mortally
wounded and another, named Rupert, had his upper lip badly lacerated.
The former was shot through the body and, if the latter is still alive,
he certainly has an ugly scar to remind him and the others of John
Brown's raid. The insurgents were all bayoneted or captured, but
fortunately none of the citizen prisoners received any injury. Their
escape, indeed, was almost miraculous, as it was difficult for the
marines to distinguish them from the enemy. Brown himself was wounded
severely by Lieutenant Greene and he was taken to another building where
his injuries were examined by a physician and his wounds dressed. He
received a cut on the head and a sword thrust in the shoulder. Two or
three survivors of his men were kept in the engine house, under a guard
of marines. The bodies of the slain raiders were collected soon after
from the streets and rivers and, with one exception, buried in a deep
pit on the southern bank of the Shenandoah, about half a mile above
Harper's Ferry, and the prisoners--Brown included--were lodged in
Charlestown jail. One body was taken away by some physicians for
dissection, and, no doubt, the skeleton is now in some doctor's closet.
After having lain just forty years in this rude grave by the Shenandoah,
the bodies of the slain raiders were disinterred about three years ago
(1899) and taken to North Elba, New York, where they now rest close to
the grave of their famous leader. This removal and reinterment were
accomplished through the efforts and under the auspices of Professor
Featherstonhaugh, of Washington, D. C., who has ever taken a deep
interest in everything appertaining to John Brown and famous raid. Can
fiction imagine anything more weird than the reality of the sad fate of
those men?

Some of Brown's men had escaped, however, from the place, in the course
of the skirmish, and Cook had not been noticed at all in the fray or in
the town since an early hour on Monday morning, when he was seen to
cross the Potomac on the bridge into Maryland with a few others, taking
with him two horses and a wagon captured at Colonel Washington's place
on the previous night, and two or three slaves belonging to that
gentleman. There was satisfactory evidence, however, of his being fully
implicated in the outrage and it was ascertained that he, Owen
Brown--one of old John's sons--and others had been detailed to operate
on the Maryland shore and that they had seized a schoolhouse, taken the
Domine--McCurrie--prisoner and driven away the pupils, for the purpose
of establishing at the place a depot for arms convenient to Harper's
Ferry. It was learned, also, that all the day of the 17th, they had kept
up a musketry fire from the Maryland mountain on the people of the town,
and that late in the evening Cook had got supper at the canal lockhouse,
on the Maryland side of the river. Moreover, it was supposed that,
finding the fate of war against them, they had fled towards
Pennsylvania. A large body of men, under Captain Edmund H. Chambers, an
old citizen and a man of well known courage, marched towards the
Schoolhouse and the Kennedy farm and, at each place they found a large
number of Sharp's rifles, pistols, swords, &c., with a corresponding
quantity of powder, percussion caps and equipments of various kinds. A
swivel cannon carrying a one pound ball was discovered, also, in a
position to command the town, although it is not known that it was used
during the skirmish. A large number of pikes of a peculiar form, and
intended for the hands of the <DW64>s, was also found. The blacks were
expected to turn out at the first signal, and this weapon was considered
to be better suited to them than firearms, especially at the
commencement of the campaign. It should have been mentioned before that
Brown had put into the hands of his <DW64> prisoners some of these pikes,
but, up to the time of the discovery of the magazine at the Kennedy
farm, the object of this novel weapon was not fully understood. Captain
Chambers' party found, also, a great number of papers which tended to
throw light on the conspiracy and several hundred copies of a form of
provisional government to be set up by Brown as soon as he had got a
footing in the south.

The Governor of Virginia, Henry A. Wise, had arrived in the meantime. He
immediately took every precaution to secure the prisoners and guard the
state against any attempt from the many allies Brown was thought to have
in the north. Governor Wise indulged in many uncalled for strictures on
the people of Harper's Ferry, for their supposed inefficiency as
soldiers on this occasion, boasting that he could have taken Brown with
a penknife. This he might have done if the handle was long enough to
allow him to keep beyond rifle range while he was punching the old man
through the key hole, but with an ordinary penknife or even with a minie
musket and bayonet, it is doubtful if the governor could have done more
than was performed by many a mechanic of Harper's Ferry in the skirmish
of Monday. In the subsequent war Governor Wise held quite an important
command and history does not record of him any of the wonderful feats of
skill or courage that might be expected from a man so confident of his
own prowess as the governor was when sneering at a brave people taken by
surprise and unarmed, when an unexpected attack was made on them. To
Governor Wise Brown confessed the whole plan for liberating the slaves
and, indeed, he had, all along, communicated to his prisoners his
intentions, but, as before noted, he kept his captives isolated as much
as possible and, in consequence, the people generally had but a vague
suspicion of his purpose. It is true that the party at the rifle factory
had informed Mr. Young of their objective, but so many wild rumors had
been started before his interview with them, and there was so much
general confusion that "neither head nor tail" could be found for the
strange occurrences of the day. The governor who, although he exhibited
a great deal of petulance on this occasion, was certainly a gallant man
himself, could not refrain from expressing admiration for Brown's
undaunted courage, and it is said that he pronounced the old man honest,
truthful and brave.

The interview between these two men of somewhat similar character,
though of diametrically opposite views on politics, is said to have been
very impressive. It lasted two hours and those who were present reported
that Brown exhibited a high order of uncultivated intellect in his
conversation with the highly educated and polished governor of Virginia.
It is said, also, that in the course of this interview, Brown foretold
the utter destruction of Harper's Ferry to take place in a very short
time--a prophecy which, if uttered at all, has met with a terrible and
literal fulfillment. Brown, Wise and the group surrounding them while
this conversation was in progress, would furnish a fine theme for a
picture. The stern, old Puritan with his bleeding wounds and disordered
dress, his long, gray beard and wild gleaming eyes, like some prophet of
old, threatening the wrath of Heaven on a sinful generation, and the
stately governor of Virginia reminding one of some cavalier of Naseby or
Worcester--each firm and true as the blade he carried and each a type of
the noble though fanatical race from which he sprang, would make an
impressive picture and, perhaps, the scene will exercise, some day, the
genius of a future painter.

On Wednesday night, October 19th, while the fever of excitement was yet
at its height, a gentleman residing in Pleasant Valley, Maryland, about
three miles from Harper's Ferry, heard a rumor that the "abolitionists"
and the slaves were butchering the people around Rohrsville, a few miles
farther up the same valley, and very properly gave notice of what he had
heard, riding furiously through Sandy Hook, towards the centre of the
trouble, the government armory. The people of Sandy Hook, men, women and
children rushed wildly towards the same point for protection at the
hands of the troops there assembled, while the people of Harper's Ferry
were equally wild with this new excitement. The marines who were yet at
the place turned out and marched to the point designated, where their
appearance caused another and more reasonable alarm among the people
there, who had not been disturbed by Brownites, white or black and who,
for a long time, could not be convinced that the soldiers had come to
protect and not molest them. Sandy Hook was totally deserted by its
people on this occasion, and many of them hurried away whatever of their
portable property they deemed most valuable. It is said that one man
shouldered a half-grown hog of a favorite breed and made tracks to
Harper's Ferry, and, as he and his neighbors scoured along the road, the
squeals of the indignant pig blended harmoniously with the multifarious
noises of the flying column. The marines, finding no enemy, returned to
Harper's Ferry, but, for many weeks afterwards, similar alarms were
started by nervous or mischievous people with nearly the same results.

Harper's Ferry was now patrolled every night by details of citizens
until the execution of Brown, which took place near Charlestown,
December 2d, 1859. Many a midnight tramp did the author take along the
muddy streets that winter with an old Hall's rifle on his shoulder when
his turn came to watch out for prowling abolitionists. The companion of
his watch was a worthy Milesian gentleman named Dan. O'Keefe, from "the
beautiful city called Cork." They made it a point to watch Dan's house
particularly, through a very natural praiseworthy anxiety on the part of
that gentleman for the safety of his better half and several pledges of
love presented from time to time by that excellent lady to her lord and
master, as well as for the sake of a corpulent flask which the
hospitable Hibernian never failed to produce from a cupboard, near the
door, when in their rounds, they came to his house. As the night and the
contents of the flask waned, the courage of the brothers-in-arms arose
and it is fortunate, perhaps, for the fame of Horatius Cocles, Leonidas
and other celebrated defenders of bridges or passes that no
abolitionists attempted to cross to "the sacred soil of Virginia" while
those worthies were on guard and full of patriotic enthusiasm and
whiskey punch. No doubt, their exploits would have eclipsed those of
the above mentioned Roman and Greek and of anybody else who has gained
celebrity by blocking the passage of an enemy. Several companies of
armorers were organized for the defense of the place and, once a week
did they display all "the pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war"
marching and countermarching along the streets, to the delight of the
ladies, the children and, no doubt, of themselves, as well as to the
terror of any book peddler from the north who might be in the
neighborhood and who might reasonably be suspected of being opposed to
slavery. A force of United States troops under Captain Seth Barton,
afterwards prominent in the service of the confederacy, was stationed at
Harper's Ferry and, gradually, quiet was restored. A Milesian warrior,
named Sergeant McGrath of the above troop was detailed to instruct the
awkward squad of citizens in the manual of arms and his deep Munster
Doric could be heard on parade evenings thundering his commands to
refractory recruits.

Cook and another of Brown's party, named Albert Hazlett, were arrested
in Pennsylvania and brought back to Virginia on requisitions. This
circumstance furnished a lesson to the fanatics who unhappily abounded
on both sides of Mason and Dixon's line. To the southern men it ought to
have proved that the people of the north did not sympathize to any great
extent with the invaders of Virginia and to the northern people who
expressed themselves as being shocked at the want of clemency exhibited
by the state of Virginia on this occasion, it showed that among
themselves were men who were ready to deliver over Brown's party to the
tender mercies of the slave holders for the sake of a few hundred
dollars offered as a reward for this service.

Cook and another white man, named Edwin Coppic, with two <DW64>s, named
Green and Copeland, were executed on the 16th of December, in the same
year and Hazlett and Aaron D. Stevens--both white--met the same fate on
the 16th of March, 1860.

Brown's trial was, of course, a mere matter of form. He took no pains to
extenuate his guilt and openly avowed that he desired no favors from
the state of Virginia. Two young lawyers of Boston, named Hoyt and
Sennott, volunteered to defend him and they acquitted themselves
creditably. The Honorable Samuel Chilton, of Washington City, was
employed for the defense by John A. Andrew, of Massachusetts, afterwards
governor of that state, but, of course nothing could save the prisoner
and he was executed as before stated.

Brown died with unshaken fortitude and, bitter as the animosity against
him was, his courage or rather his stoic indifference elicited the
admiration of even his unrelenting enemies. Indeed it is difficult at
the present time to do justice to the character of this remarkable man,
but, no doubt, the future historian of this country who will write when
the passions that excite us have subsided or, perhaps, are forgotten
will class him with the Scotch Covenanters of the 17th century. It
appears to the writer that in many respects John Brown very closely
resembled John Balfour, of Burly, whose character is so finely portrayed
in Scott's "Old Mortality." The same strong will and iron nerve and the
same fanaticism characterized these two men and it must be said of both,
for Burly's character is taken from life--that, while no sane person can
wholly approve of their actions, their most implacable opponents cannot
deny a tribute of respect to their unflinching courage. The other
prisoners, also, died bravely and, indeed, it was a melancholy thing to
see men of so much strength of character lose their lives in such a
foolish undertaking--foolish, as far as the limited facilities of man
can reach--but wise, perhaps, could men understand the workings of Him
"whose thoughts are not our thoughts and whose ways are not our ways."
In judging of this invasion it is well to remember that everything which
John Brown proposed to do was successfully accomplished within five
years from the day of his execution, and who can tell how much active
providential interference there was in this apparently wild and lawless
enterprise?

An attempt to escape was made by Cook and Coppic on the night before
their execution. By some means they succeeded in eluding the vigilance
of the cell watch and in climbing the outer wall of the prison when they
were challenged by a citizen guard who was posted outside and their
further progress was prevented. The name of the sentinel who discovered
them in their flight was Thomas Guard and many jokes and puns were
perpetrated for months afterwards on the coincidence. They were taken
back immediately to their cell and closely =guarded= 'til morning.

A characteristic anecdote was told by the late Mr. James Campbell, who
was sheriff of Jefferson county at the time of the Brown troubles. It
will be remembered that, on the morning of the raid, Brown got breakfast
for his men at Fouke's hotel and that, in liquidation, he restored to
liberty Walter Kemp, the bartender, whom he had taken prisoner. A short
time before Brown's execution Sheriff Campbell sold some property
belonging to Brown which was found at the Kennedy farm and was
accounting to him for it, and naming some claims presented against him
by various parties with whom Brown had had dealings. Among these claims
was one of Mr. Fouke for the refreshments mentioned. Brown was reclining
on his bed, not having yet recovered from his wounds, and, no doubt,
with his spirit darkened by the shadow of his impending fate. He
listened apathetically to the list of debts, until that of Mr. Fouke was
mentioned when he suddenly rose up and protested against this demand.
"Why, Mr. Campbell," said he, "I made a fair exchange with Mr. Fouke; I
restored to him his bartender as pay for the meals referred to, and I do
not think it honorable in him to violate the contract." Mr. Campbell
replied: "Why, Mr. Brown, I wonder at you. I thought you were opposed to
trading in human flesh, but, now, I find that even you will do it, like
other people, when it suits your convenience." A grim smile played for a
moment 'round the old Puritan's firmly compressed mouth. He lay down
again quietly and remarked "Well, there may be something in =that=,
too." He made no further opposition to the claim. A part of the property
disposed of by Sheriff Campbell was a horse which Brown had bought from
a Harper's Ferry horse trader. In the transaction Brown had been badly
bitten, as the animal was nearly valueless and, on the day of the raid
the old man made particular inquiries about the tricky trader. The
latter was warned of his danger and took care not to encounter his
victim, who, with all the solemn thoughts of a great national uprising,
and the fearful risk of his undertaking, was yet smarting from the petty
deception put on him in the sale and eager to take vengeance for it.

On the morning of his execution he bade an affectionate farewell to his
fellow captives with the exception of Cook whom he charged with having
deceived him, and Hazlett of whom he denied any knowledge. It is said
that he gave to each of them, with the exceptions noted, a silver
quarter of a dollar, as a memento and told them to meet their fate
courageously. His pretense not to know Hazlett was understood to be for
the benefit of the latter whose trial had not yet come off. Hazlett
stoutly denied that he knew anything of Brown or that he was connected
in any way with the raid on Harper's Ferry. It will be remembered that
he was arrested in Pennsylvania, some time after the invasion, and, of
course, his defense, if he had any, was an alibi. A very absurd story
was published about Brown's taking a  baby from its mother's arms
at the scaffold and kissing it. No <DW52> person of either sex would
dare to approach the scene of the execution. The slaves were frightened
and bewildered so thoroughly at the time that their sole aim was to
avoid the public eye as much as possible but the paragraph promised to
take well and the reporter was not disappointed.

Brown's wife arrived at Harper's Ferry shortly before his execution and,
to her his body was delivered for burial. He was interred at North Elba,
in the State of New York, where he had resided for some years. His wife
was a rather intelligent woman and she did not appear to sympathize with
her husband's wild notions on the subject of slavery. In conversation
with a citizen of Harper's Ferry she expressed an opinion that Brown
had contemplated this or a similar attack for thirty years, although he
had never mentioned the subject to her. The bodies of Cook, Coppic,
Hazlett and Stevens, also, were delivered to friends, and it is said
that the last named two are buried near the residence of a benevolent
lady of the Society of Friends in New Jersey. She had always sympathized
with their cause and she provided their remains with the only thing now
needed--a decent burial.

Many anecdotes of John Brown are told in the neighborhood of the Kennedy
farm where he and his party resided during the greater part of the
summer previous to the attack, and they serve to illustrate the
character of this extraordinary man. Whenever he killed an animal for
his own use and that of his men he invariably sent a portion of it to
some of his neighbors, many of whom were poor and sorely in need of such
attentions. In other respects, also, especially in his love for
children, he exhibited a kindness of heart which made him to be much
liked by all who knew him. He was very regular in his attendance at
church exercises and his piety was undoubtedly genuine, as will appear
from the following: Once, a large crowd had assembled in a log
schoolhouse to listen to an itinerant preacher. The minister made but a
very poor show and his sermon was considered, even in that
unsophisticated region, as far below mediocrity. John Brown or Isaac
Smith, as he was then called, was one of the audience and, all through
the sermon he kept his eyes riveted on the preacher and appeared to be
totally absorbed in attention, as much so, indeed, as if the pulpit was
occupied by Henry Ward Beecher or some other far famed divine. When the
sermon was concluded one of Brown's neighbors in the audience made some
jocular remark about the preacher and the discourse and asked Brown if,
ever before, he had heard such trash from a pulpit. "Sir," said the
stern old man. "When I come to hear the word of God, I do not propose to
criticize the preaching of His minister. I recognize the Master, humble
as the servant may be, and I respect His word, though coming from the
mouth of an obscure and illiterate man."

On the other hand he sometimes savored strongly of blasphemy, whenever
religious dogmas or tenets appeared to clash in any way with his
favorite hobby. After his conviction many preachers of various
denominations offered him the consolation of religion according to their
particular rites. At their introduction to him Brown always asked these
gentlemen: "Do you approve of slavery?" As the answer at that time was
sure to be in the affirmative for not even a minister of the Gospel
dared then to hint at any sin in "the institution"--he refused to
receive their services, preferring to go before his God unshriven to
accepting the ministrations of slavery-loving preachers. One reverend
gentleman remarked to him that Saint Paul himself had sent back a
fugitive slave to his master, when Brown, with his dark eye ablaze said:
"Then Saint Paul was no better than you are." And in this spirit he
entered the great unknown, where it is to be hoped that honest
convictions receive at least as much honor as well conned creeds,
learned by rote, and often wanting in the great essential--an active
charity.

The gallows on which Brown was hung must have been a vast fabric and the
rope used must have been as long as the Equinoctial Line, or, else, both
had some miraculous powers of reproduction. Of the many thousands of
soldiers who were stationed from time to time in Jefferson county, from
the day of Brown's execution till the last regiment disappeared, more
than a year after the war, almost every other man had a portion of
either as a souvenir of his sojourn in Virginia. The writer saw pieces
of wood and fragments of rope purporting to have formed parts of
them--enough to build and rig a large man-of-war. If the soldiers
believed they had genuine relics they were as well contented as they
would be if they had the reality and it would be cruel to undeceive
them. The true history of that scaffold is as follows: It was built by a
carpenter of Charlestown, named David Cockerell, expressly for the
execution of Brown. When this purpose was accomplished the builder took
it to his home, and put it away as a curiosity. When the war broke out
Cockerell joined the confederate army and acted as engineer on the staff
of Stonewall Jackson. Fearing that in his absence from home his family
might be annoyed by soldiers coming to see the relic or, if possible, to
steal it, he ordered it to be built into a porch attached to the house
and the whole structure to be painted in the same color so that no
stranger could guess at anything beyond the common in the ordinary
looking porch. Cockerell died some years after the war, and it is said
that his heirs disposed of the famous scaffold to some Washington City
speculators, who proposed to exhibit it at the World's Fair in Chicago
in 1893. The writer gives this history of the scaffold as he has
received it from trustworthy sources. For several months after the raid
a brisk trade was prosecuted by the boys of Harper's Ferry selling "John
Brown pikes" to railroad passengers who, every day now stopped at the
station from curiosity and, as the number of genuine pikes was not very
large, the stock must have been exhausted in a very short time. It is
said, however, that some ingenious and enterprising blacksmiths in the
neighborhood devoted much of their time and capital to the manufacture
of imitations, and it is certain that the number of pikes sold to
strangers exceeded, by a great many, the number supposed to have been
captured at Brown's headquarters.

The names of the invaders, as well as could be ascertained, were as
follows: John Brown, Watson Brown, Oliver Brown, Owen Brown, Aaron D.
Stevens, Edwin Coppic, Barclay Coppic, Albert Hazlett, John E. Cook,
Stuart Taylor, William Lehman, William Thompson, John Henrie Kagi,
Charles P. Tydd, Oliver Anderson, Jeremiah Anderson, 'Dolph Thompson,
Dangerfield Newby, Shields Greene alias "Emperor," John Copeland and
Lewis Leary, of whom the last four were <DW64>s or Mulattoes.

John Brown was, at the time of the raid, fifty-nine years old. He was
about five feet and eleven inches in height, large boned and muscular,
but not fleshy, and he gave indications of having possessed in his youth
great physical strength. His hair had been a dark brown, but at this
period it was gray. His beard was very long and, on the day of the
raid, it hung in snowy waves to his breast and helped to give to his
aquiline features a singularly wild appearance. His eyes were of a dark
hazel and burned with a peculiar light that gave promise of a quick
temper and a daring courage. His head, as it appeared to the writer, was
of a conical shape, and, on the whole, his physique well corresponded
with the traits of his character. The portrait of him in this book is an
admirable likeness. He was a native of Connecticut, but he had resided
for many years in the states of New York and Ohio where, it is said, he
was a rather extensive and successful wool-grower. He was twice married
and he had a very large family of sons and daughters, the most of whom
were married. He emigrated to Kansas at an early period in the history
of that territory and he was an acknowledged leader in the civil broils
which distracted that region for several years. Of course, various
opinions were entertained concerning him--the Free Soil men considering
him a hero, and the pro-slavery people regarding or affecting to regard
him as a demon incarnate. It is said that, in 1851, he visited Europe
with the ostensible purpose of exhibiting samples of wool, but in
reality to study the science of earth fortifications and gain military
knowledge to be made available in a servile war which he designed to
excite at a suitable opportunity. He certainly suffered a great deal in
Kansas--losing one of his sons, Frederick, and a considerable amount of
property in fighting the southern settlers, and it is probable that a
bitterness of feeling on this account mingled with his natural hatred of
slavery.

There was confusion respecting the identity of his two sons--Watson and
Oliver. They were both mortally wounded on the 17th. One of them,
supposedly, a young man apparently about twenty-three years of age, of
low stature, with fair hair and blue eyes, was shot in the stomach and
died in the course of the night in the engine house, while the party had
still possession of it. It is said that he suffered terrible agony and
that he called on his companions to put him out of pain by shooting him.
His father, however, manifested no feeling on the occasion beyond
remarking to his boy that "he must have patience; that he was dying in a
good cause, and that he should meet his fate like a brave man." The
other was a tall man, about six feet in height, with very black hair.
He, also, as before stated, was wounded in the skirmish of the 17th, and
he died next morning, after the marines got possession of the engine
house. He was one of the two men who were wounded from "the Gault
house." When he died his father was a prisoner and badly wounded. On
learning that one of his men had died a few minutes before, he sent out
to inquire if it was his son and, on being informed that it was, he
manifested the same stoicism and made a remark similar to the one of the
previous night, when the other son was dying--that the cause was good
and that it was glorious to die for its sake. When the news reached him
he was engaged in the interview with Governor Wise. After satisfying
himself as to the identity of the man just deceased, he resumed his
conversation with the governor, as if nothing had happened which was
calculated in the least to discompose him. As before noted, there is a
doubt with the people of Harper's Ferry as to which of these two men was
Oliver and which was Watson, and, indeed, whether or not the fair-haired
youth was his son at all.

Owen Brown was one of those detailed to operate in Maryland. He was not
in the skirmish, and he made his escape and was not seen again in
Virginia or Maryland. The writer has no knowledge of his appearance or
age.

Aaron D. Stevens was a remarkably fine looking young man of about thirty
years of age. He was about five feet and ten inches in height, heavily
built and of great symmetry of form. His hair was black and his eyes of
dark hazel had a very penetrating glance. He was said to be a desperate
character and, as it was reported that he had suggested to Brown the
murder of the prisoners and the firing of the village, there was greater
animosity felt towards him than any of the others, except, perhaps,
Captain Brown himself and Cook. He received several wounds in the
skirmish and it was thought he could not survive them. In consequence of
these injuries he was one of the last put on trial and executed. He was
said to be a believer in spiritualism or spiritism which is, perhaps,
the proper term. He was the one who was so badly wounded from "the Gault
house" and who was taken to Fouke's hotel. Had he not been disabled, it
is to be feared, from what is reported of him, that a massacre of the
prisoners would have been perpetrated on his recommendation. Whatever
his crimes may have been it is certain that he was a man of undaunted
courage and iron nerve. While he lay at Fouke's hotel helpless from his
wounds, a crowd of armed and frenzied citizens gathered 'round him, and
it was with the utmost difficulty that a few of the less excited people
succeeded in saving his life for the present. One man put the muzzle of
his loaded gun to Stevens' head with the expressed determination to kill
him instantly. Stevens was then unable to move a limb, but he fixed his
terrible eyes on the would-be murderer and by the sheer force of the
mysterious influence they possessed, he compelled the man to lower the
weapon and refrain from carrying out his purpose. To this day the
magnetized man avers that he cannot account for the irresistible
fascination that bound him as with a spell.

Edwin Coppic or Coppie was a young man aged about twenty-four years,
about five feet and six inches in height, compactly built and of a
florid complexion. He was a very handsome youth, and for various
reasons, great sympathy was felt for him by many. He was not wounded in
the skirmish, but he was taken prisoner by the marines in the engine
house. He had come from Iowa where resided his widowed mother, a pious
old lady of the Society of Friends. He had been for a long time in the
employ of a Mr. Thomas Gwynn, living near Tipton, Cedar county, in the
above mentioned state. Mr. Gwynn was a farmer and merchant and Coppic
assisted him as a farm laborer and "help" around his store. His employer
was much attached to him and came to Charlestown for his remains, which
he took with him to Iowa. After Coppic's conviction a petition was
forwarded to the governor of Virginia, requesting executive clemency in
his case. It was not successful, however, and he was executed as before
stated. In conversation with a citizen of Harper's Ferry who interviewed
him in his cell, Coppic said that, when he left his home in Iowa, he had
no intention to enter on any expedition like the one against Virginia,
but he confessed that his object was to induce slaves to leave their
masters, and to aid them to escape.

Of Barclay Coppic little is known in Virginia beyond the fact that he
was Edwin's brother and that he was with Brown's party in the raid. He
was with Owen Brown and Cook on the Maryland side of the Potomac while
the skirmish was in progress and he was not captured. It is said that he
was killed some years ago in a railroad accident in Missouri.

Albert Hazlett, of Pennsylvania, was a man of about five feet and eleven
inches in height, raw-boned and muscular. His hair was red and his eyes
were of a muddy brown color and of a very unpleasant expression. He was
very roughly dressed on the day of the raid, and in every sense of the
word he looked like an "ugly customer." He made his escape from Harper's
Ferry on the evening of the 17th, about the time when Brown withdrew his
force into the engine house, but he was afterward captured in
Pennsylvania and executed with Stevens. His age was about thirty-three
years.

John E. Cook was a native of Connecticut and he was a young man of about
twenty-eight years--five feet and eight inches in height, though, as he
stooped a good deal, he did not appear to be so tall. He had fair hair
and bright blue eyes and he was, on the whole, quite an intelligent
looking man. As before stated, he had resided several years at Harper's
Ferry, and he had become acquainted with all the young men of the place,
by whom he was regarded as a pleasant companion. He had married a
respectable young lady of the place, who knew nothing of his former life
or of his plans against the peace of Virginia. He was highly connected
and the governor of Indiana at that time--Willard--was his
brother-in-law, being the husband of Cook's sister. At his trial Daniel
Voorhees, afterward so famous as a politician and criminal lawyer, made
a speech for the defense which is regarded as one of his best efforts.

Little is known of Stuart Taylor. Some contend that he was a man of
medium size and very dark complexion, while others believe that he was a
redhaired young man who was bayoneted by the marines in the engine house
and dragged dead from that building at the same time that Brown was
removed. The writer is inclined to the latter opinion and he thinks that
those who favor the former confound him with a man named Anderson of
whom mention will soon be made at some length.

William Lehman, who was killed on a rock in the Potomac while
endeavoring to escape, was quite a young man, with jet black hair and a
very florid complexion. The killing of this young man was, under all
circumstances of the case, an act of great barbarity, as he had made
signs of a desire to surrender. The man who shot him was, as before
stated, but a temporary resident of Harper's Ferry and, in reality,
belonged to a neighboring county. Nothing can be gained by giving his
name and the concealing of it may save people yet unborn from unmerited
shame. In justice it must be said that he now claims that Lehman drew a
pistol to shoot him, but we did not hear of this until very lately.

William Thompson, who was shot on the bridge, was a man apparently of
about thirty years of age, of medium size, but of a symmetrical and
compact form. His complexion was fair, and he gave indications of being
a man of pleasant disposition. He was well known to many in the
neighborhood of the Kennedy farm and he was very popular with all his
acquaintances there. The killing of this man was unnecessary, also, but
some palliation for it may be found in the excitement caused by Mr.
Beckham's death.

John or, as he was sometimes called, Henrie Kagi, is said to have been a
remarkably fine looking man, with a profusion of black hair and a
flowing beard of the same color. He was about thirty years of age, tall
and portly, and he did not display the same ferocity that many of the
others exhibited. He was "secretary of war" under Brown's provisional
government and he held the rank of captain. He is supposed to have been
a native of Ohio. He was killed in the Shenandoah near the rifle
factory.

Of Charles P. Tydd little is known. It is said that, before the raid, he
used to peddle books through the neighborhood of Harper's Ferry. As far
as ascertained, he did not appear in the fight, but escaped from
Maryland to parts unknown. It is said that he was a native of Maine.

Respecting the identity of Oliver and Jeremiah Anderson there is a
doubt, as in the case of the young Browns. One of them was killed by the
marines, but what became of the other is unknown. The man who was killed
was about thirty years of age, of middle stature, very black hair and
swarthy complexion. He was supposed by some to be a Canadian mulatto. As
before noted, he is confounded by many with Stuart Taylor. He received
three or four bayonet stabs in the breast and stomach and, when he was
dragged out of the engine house to the flagged walk in front of that
building, he was yet alive and vomiting gore from internal hemorrhage.
While he was in this condition a farmer from some part of the
surrounding country came up and viewed him in silence, but with a look
of concentrated bitterness. Not a word did the countryman utter, as he
thought, no doubt, that no amount of cursing could do justice to his
feelings. He passed on to another part of the armory yard and did not
return for a considerable time. When he came back Anderson was yet
breathing and the farmer thus addressed him: "Well, it takes you a h--
of a long time to die." If Anderson had vitality enough left in him to
hear the words this soothing remark must have contributed greatly to
smooth his way to the unknown land of disembodied spirits. The writer
heard from very good authority that another and still greater barbarity
was practised towards this helpless man while he was in the death agony.
Some brute in human shape, it is said, squirted tobacco juice and
dropped his quid into the dying man's eye. The writer did not see the
latter occurrence, but it was related by witnesses of undoubted
veracity. After death, also, this man--Anderson--was picked out for
special attentions. Some physicians of Winchester, Virginia, fancied him
as a subject for dissection and nem. con. they got possession of his
body. In order to take him away handily they procured a barrel and tried
to pack him into it. Head foremost, they rammed him in, but they could
not bend his legs so as to get them into the barrel with the rest of the
body. In their endeavors to accomplish this feat they strained so hard
that the man's bones or sinews fairly cracked. These praiseworthy
exertions of those sons of Galen in the cause of science and humanity
elicited the warmest expressions of approval from the spectators. The
writer does not know, certainly, what final disposition they made of the
subject which the Fates provided for them, without the expense or risk
of robbing a grave.

'Dolph Thompson was quite a boy and he appeared to be an unwilling
participator in the transaction. He was seen by not more than two or
three of the citizens, and it is supposed that he escaped early on the
17th. He had fair hair and a florid complexion.

Dangerfield Newby was a tall and well built mulatto, aged about thirty
years. He had a rather pleasant face and address. He was shot and killed
at the Arsenal gate by somebody in Mrs. Butler's house opposite, about
11 o'clock, a.m., on Monday, and his body lay where it fell until the
afternoon of Tuesday. The bullet struck him in the lower part of the
neck and went down into his body, the person who shot him being in a
position more elevated than the place where Newby was standing. Mr.
Jacob Bajeant, of Harper's Ferry, used to claim the credit of having
fired the fatal shot, and the people generally accorded him the honor. A
near relative and namesake of George Washington disputes Bajeant's claim
and is confident that it was a shot from =his= rifle that put an end to
Newby's career. Mr. Bajeant is now dead and it is not likely that the
question will be brought up again. From the relative positions of the
parties, the size of the bullet or some other circumstance, the hole in
Newby's neck was very large, and the writer heard a wag remark that he
believed a smoothing iron had been shot into him. The writer has no
intention to make light, as might appear from the following, of what was
a fearful occurrence. He relates the simple truth, as many can attest.
Some fastidious critics have objected to the details of this tragedy in
former editions of this book, but Truth is mighty and ought to prevail.
That Newby's body was torn by hogs at Harper's Ferry is too well known
to require an apology for a relation of the facts, although the details
are undoubtedly disgusting. Shortly after Newby's death a hog came up,
rooted around the spot where the body lay and, at first appeared to be
unconscious that anything extraordinary was in its way. After a while,
the hog paused and looked attentively at the body, then snuffed around
it and put its snout to the dead man's face. Suddenly, the brute was
apparently seized with a panic and, with bristles erect and drooping
tail, it scampered away, as if for dear life. This display of
sensibility did not, however, deter others of the same species from
crowding around the corpse and almost literally devouring it. The writer
saw all this with his own eyes, as the saying is, and, at the risk of
further criticism, he will remark that none of the good people of
Harper's Ferry appeared to be at all squeamish about the quality or
flavor of their pork that winter. Nobody thought on the subject or, if
anybody did recall the episode, it was, no doubt, to give credit to the
hogs for their rough treatment of the invaders.

On Tuesday evening, after Brown's capture, and when the people were
somewhat relieved from the terror of a more extensive and dangerous
invasion, a citizen of Harper's Ferry, who had not had a chance to
distinguish himself in the skirmish of Monday, fired a shot into what
was left of Newby's body, a feat which, it must be supposed, tended to
exalt him, at least, in his own estimation. Like Kirkpatrick at the
murder of the Red Comyn, he thought he would "make sicker" and guard
against any possibility of the dead man's reviving. The citizen referred
to was somewhat under the influence of whiskey when he fired the
superfluous shot, but the writer saw another man who was apparently
sober and who was certainly a person of excellent standing in the
community, kick the dead man in the face and, on the whole, great a
crime as the invasion of the place was and natural as the animosity
towards the raiders should be considered, it must be confessed that the
treatment the lifeless bodies of those wretched men received from some
of the infuriated populace was far from creditable to the actors or to
human nature in general.

Shields Greene alias "Emperor" was a <DW64> of the blackest hue, small in
stature and very active in his movements. He seemed to be very officious
in the early part of Monday, flitting about from place to place, and he
was evidently conscious of his own great importance in the enterprise.
It is supposed that it was he that killed Mr. Boerly. He is said to have
been a resident of the State of New York, but little is known with
certainty about him. He was very insulting to Brown's prisoners,
constantly presenting his rifle and threatening to shoot some of them.
He was aged about thirty years.

John Copeland was a mulatto of medium size, and about twenty-five years
of age. He was a resident of Oberlin, Ohio, where he carried on the
carpenter business for some years.

Lewis Leary, a mulatto, was mortally wounded at the rifle factory in
Monday's skirmish and died in a carpenter's shop on the island. He was a
young man, but his personal appearance cannot be described minutely by
any person not acquainted with him before the raid, as he was suffering
a great deal from wounds when he was captured and, of course, his looks
were not those that were natural to him. He, too, had resided in
Oberlin, and his trade was that of harness making.

A <DW64> man whom Colonel Washington had hired from a neighbor and who
had been taken prisoner with his employer on the previous night was
drowned while endeavoring to escape from his captors. He was an
unwilling participant in the transactions of the day, and no blame was
attached to him by the people.

Heywood Shepherd, the first man killed by Brown's party, was a very
black <DW64> aged about forty-four years. He was uncommonly tall,
measuring six feet and five inches, and he was a man of great physical
strength. He was a free man, but, in order to comply with a law then
existing in Virginia, he acknowledged 'Squire Beckham as his master. The
relations of master and slave, however, existed only in name between
them and "Heywood" accumulated a good deal of money and owned some
property in Winchester. He was a married man and he left a wife and
several children. It is supposed by many that the killing of this man
was the only thing that prevented a general insurrection of the <DW64>s,
for some of the farmers of the neighborhood said that they noticed an
unusual excitement among the slaves on the Sunday before the raid. If it
is true that the <DW64>s knew anything of the intended attack, it is
probable that they were deterred from taking a part in it by seeing one
of their own race the first person sacrificed.

Thomas Boerly, the second man killed, was a native of the County of
Roscommon, in Ireland. As before noticed, he was a man of great physical
strength and he was noted for courage. He measured about six feet in
height and weighed about two hundred pounds. He was a blunt,
straight-forward man in his dealing and he was very popular on account
of his love for fun and from that unreasonable tendency of human nature
to pay respect to the purely accidental quality of personal prowess.
Many years before he encountered at fisticuffs an equally powerful man
named Joseph Graff, who, at that time, resided at Harper's Ferry. The
fight was conducted in the old border style of "rough and tumble,"
including biting and gouging. Night alone terminated the encounter and
the combatants parted with their mutual respect greatly augmented and
with a great accession of glory to both. The admirers of each party
claimed a victory for their champion, but the principals themselves
wisely divided the laurels and never again jeopardized their reputation
by renewing the contest. Mr. Boerly's age was about forty-three years.
He was married and he left three children. His youngest child, Thomas,
junior, still resides at Harper's Ferry and is quite a prominent
citizen. He has inherited the great bodily powers and the many genial
characteristics of his father. The State of Virginia granted a small
pension to the widow but, the war breaking out shortly afterwards, she
received no benefit from the annuity until at the restoration of peace,
her claim was brought to the notice of the state authorities. From that
time, until her death a few years ago, she was paid punctually. Mr.
Boerly kept a grocery store and was in very comfortable circumstances.

Thomas Boerly, junior, was the mayor of Harper's Ferry who arrested and
brought to justice Erwin Ford, the brutal murderer of Elsie Kreglow, of
the District of Columbia, in 1896.

George Turner, the third man killed (of the citizens) was a very fine
looking man, aged about forty years. It is said that he was educated at
West Point and that he was distinguished for great polish and refinement
of manners. He was unmarried and he left a good deal of property. He was
a native of Jefferson county, Virginia--now West Virginia.

Fountain Beckham, the fourth and last of the citizen's party killed, was
like the others, a tall, powerfully built man. His age was about sixty
years. He was a native of Culpeper county, Virginia, and a brother of
Armistead Beckham, heretofore mentioned as master-armorer. As before
stated, he had been for many years a magistrate of the County of
Jefferson and the agent of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company at
Harper's Ferry. At the time of his death he was mayor of the town. He
was a widower and two sons and a daughter survived him. Mr. Beckham was
in many respects a remarkable man. It was said that he was the best
magistrate that Jefferson county ever had, his decisions being always
given with a view rather to the justice than to the law of the cases
and, in many instances, being marked with great shrewdness and soundness
of judgment. On the other hand he was sometimes very whimsical, and some
amusing scenes used to be enacted between him and "Haywood"--his
factotum. Frequently, the squire would give unreasonable or
contradictory orders to his servant who never hesitated on such
occasions to refuse obedience, and it was no uncommon thing to see
Haywood starting out from the railroad office with a bundle on his back
en route for Winchester, and swearing that he would not serve the squire
another day for any consideration. He never proceeded very far, however,
before he was over-taken by a message from his master conveying
proposals for peace and Haywood never failed to return. Notwithstanding
their frequent rows, a strong attachment existed between these two men
through life; and in death they were not parted. Mr. Beckham was very
respectably connected. His sister was the wife of Mr. Stubblefield, so
long superintendent of the armory, and his niece, Miss Stubblefield, was
married to Andrew Hunter, of Charlestown, one of the most eminent
lawyers of Virginia. Mr. Beckham's wife was the daughter of Colonel
Stevenson, of Harper's Ferry, and, thus, it will be seen that he was
connected with many of the most influential families of the Northern
Neck. Mr. Beckham's death was mourned as a public loss for, with many
oddities of manner, he had all the qualities that go to make a lovable
man and a good citizen.

The nine citizens who were confined as hostages in the engine house were
as follows: Colonel Lewis W. Washington and John Alstadt, planters; John
E. P. Dangerfield, paymaster's clerk; Armistead M. Ball,
master-machinist; Benjamin Mills, master-armorer; John Donohoo,
assistant agent of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad at Harper's Ferry;
Terence O'Byrne, a farmer residing in Washington county, Maryland;
Israel Russell, a merchant of Harper's Ferry, and a Mr. Schoppe, of
Frederick City, Maryland, who happened to be on a business visit that
day at the scene of the trouble.

[Illustration: JEFFERSON'S ROCK]

Colonel Lewis W. Washington was at the time a very fine looking man of
about fifty years of age, with that unmistakable air that always
accompanies a man of true patrician birth and education. He was the soul
of hospitality and Cook used to visit him at his home for the
ostensible purpose of contending with him in pistol shooting, an art in
which both were famous adepts. On these occasions Colonel Washington
used to exhibit the sword and some other relics of his great namesake
and grand-uncle, and, thus it was that Cook and his companions in the
conspiracy gained so intimate a knowledge of Colonel Washington's
household arrangements and were enabled to find at once the place in
which the relics were stored and to capture the owner without
difficulty. Cook was entertained hospitably whenever he visited the
generous Virginian, and the ingratitude manifested towards Colonel
Washington was, perhaps, the worst feature of the whole transaction, and
it is not to be excused for the moral effect that the capture might be
expected to secure. The grand-nephew of the founder of our nation, it is
said, exhibited on this occasion a great deal of the dignity and
calmness which characterized his illustrious kinsman and his fellow
captives used to speak of his great coolness under the trying
circumstances of his situation.

Colonel Washington, in his testimony before the select committee of the
United States Senate, appointed to inquire into the outrage, gave a
graphic description of his capture by the party. He described them as
having consisted of Stevens, Tydd, Taylor and the <DW64>, Shields Greene.
Another, named Merriam, was supposed to be about the premises, but he
was not seen by Colonel Washington. In his recital no mention is made of
Cook's presence at the capture, but it was ascertained afterwards that
though he was not there in person, the captors had got from him all
necessary information and that they acted under his instructions. It may
be remarked that Merriam, although he is known to have been connected
with the enterprise, was not seen in the skirmish at Harper's Ferry, and
what became of him afterwards is unknown to the writer. It was
understood that he was an Englishman by birth and that, in early life,
he was a protege of Lady Byron, widow of the celebrated poet. Colonel
Washington was one of those who disagreed with the author as to the
identity of Stuart Taylor. In the writer's opinion Anderson and not
Taylor accompanied the party to make the seizure. The colonel had
several narrow escapes from death while in the hands of "the
Philistines." About the time when Mr. Beckham was killed, Brown was
sitting on the fire engine near the engine house door, rifle in hand,
apparently watching an opportunity to make a good shot. Colonel
Washington noticed him fingering his gun abstractedly, and like a person
touching the strings of a violin and, being somewhat struck with the
oddity of the idea, he approached Brown, for the purpose of inquiring if
he had learned to play the fiddle. It is easy to imagine the answer the
stern, old Puritan would have returned, had there been time enough to
propound the question. As Colonel Washington came near Brown, a bullet
from the outside whistled immediately over the head of the latter,
penetrated the handle of an axe that was suspended on the engine and
passed through Colonel Washington's beard, striking the wall near him
and sprinkling brick dust all over him. Brown coolly remarked, "that was
near," and Colonel Washington postponed his inquiry, thereby consigning
posterity to ignorance on the momentous question as to whether John
Brown played the fiddle or not. The colonel deeming it prudent to leave
that neighborhood, moved a little to one side, when he entered into
conversation with Mr. Mills, another of the prisoners. Their faces were
not four inches apart, yet through this narrow passage, another bullet
sped and the friends finding one place as safe as another continued
their conversation.

Colonel Washington at that time owned a dog of very eccentric appearance
and habits and apparently of a most unamiable disposition. His name was
"Bob" and he was of the common bull species. With other peculiarities,
he was remarkable for having been born without a tail. Nature, however,
with that tendency to compensation which our common Mother exhibits in
awarding gifts to her children, gave him more than an equivalent for the
caudal deficiency by providing him with an extra allowance of brains. He
made it a point to visit several times every day the laborers on the
plantation and, if there were more than one party of them, he would
inspect each in turn, and eye the <DW64>s suspiciously, after which he
would return to his bed which was in front of the main entrance to the
house. He never made free with any person, not even with his master, who
tried frequently, but in vain, to induce his surly dependant to follow
him 'round the farm. His morose disposition and the jealous eye with
which he always regarded the <DW64>s gave rise to superstitious dread of
the animal among the servants and a belief that in him was the soul of
some defunct plantation overseer who, with the ruling passion strong
=after= death, continued to exercise his favorite avocation. Pythagoras
himself would, no doubt, have agreed with the <DW64>s, had he known
"Bob" and his peculiarities, and it may be supposed that the philosopher
would have pointed triumphantly to this overwhelming proof of the
Metempsychosis. On the night of Colonel Washington's capture, however,
Bob's whole nature appeared to undergo a change. He accompanied his
master to Harper's Ferry, stuck by him all day on Monday and, when
Colonel Washington was confined in the engine house as a hostage, his
faithful though hitherto undemonstrative dog followed him into close
captivity. Brown and his men tried to eject him and even his master
endeavored to induce him to go out, but in vain. When Colonel Washington
was released, he lost him in the dense crowd, but, on reaching home on
Tuesday night, he found the metamorphosed overseer waiting for him at
the gate and exhibiting signs of the most extravagant joy at his return.
After this, the dog was regarded with more favor and many of the <DW64>s
from that time rejected the former theory of transmigration as a slander
on the faithful animal. Many years ago, at a ripe canine age, poor Bob
was gathered to his fathers, and he sleeps in an honored grave in the
plantation garden, but, as slavery has been abolished in the United
States and bids fairly to disappear from the whole earth, it might
puzzle even Pythagoras himself to find a suitable tenement for the now
unhappy shade of the overseer. Colonel Washington died at his residence
near Harper's Ferry October 1st, 1871, much regretted by all who had the
pleasure of his acquaintance.

Mr. Alstadt was a gentleman then about sixty years of age, of very
unassuming manners and amiable disposition. He, too, was examined before
the Senate committee and gave a lively picture of his adventures while a
prisoner. His son, Thomas, then a little boy, was taken prisoner with
his father or voluntarily accompanied the party to Harper's Ferry to
watch for the old gentleman's safety. Mr. Alstadt, senior, has been dead
for some years, but Thomas yet survives, now a well-matured man, and he
is probably the only one of the prisoners who were confined in the
engine house who survives, with the possible exception of Messrs. Mills
and Schoppe, of whom nothing has been heard at Harper's Ferry for the
last forty years.

John E. P. Dangerfield was then a man of about forty years of age and of
a very delicate constitution. He bore up very well, however, and when he
was released by the marines his physical strength had not given way, as
his friends feared it would. At the breaking out of the war he moved to
North Carolina and there he died suddenly a few years ago while on a
hunt in the woods. It is supposed that his death was caused by too
severe exertion while he was prosecuting a favorite sport.

Armistead M. Ball was at that time a man of about forty-six years of
age. He was very corpulent but, notwithstanding his great bulk, his
health was delicate. He died in June, 1861, of apoplexy. As before said,
he was a man of great mechanical ingenuity. He invented a rifling
machine which was used for several years in the armory, and was regarded
as an excellent piece of mechanism. Many people, however, believed that
Mr. Ball owed much of his reputation to ideas borrowed from a man named
John Wernwag who, at that time and for many years before and afterwards,
lived at Harper's Ferry and whose name will hereafter appear in this
history in connection with a thrilling adventure in the great flood of
1870. Mr. Wernwag was, confessedly, a great genius in mechanics, but,
as he was a man of very retiring habits and taciturn disposition, he
never made any show of his ability and, consequently, only a few were
aware of the wealth of mechanical genius that was possessed by this
unassuming man, but was lost to the world through his unfortunate
bashfulness. He and Mr. Ball used to take long and frequent rambles over
the neighboring heights, and it was supposed that in their conversation
on those excursions the latter got many hints which he improved and
practically elucidated in his mechanical devices.

Benjamin Mills was a man of about fifty years of age at the time of the
Brown raid, low in stature but muscular and active. As before stated, he
soon after returned to Harrodsburg, Kentucky, from which place he had
come to Harper's Ferry. The writer knows not whether he yet survives or
not.

John Donohoo was at the time quite a good looking young man of about
thirty-five years of age. He was a native of Ireland, but a resident of
this country from his childhood. For many years his home was at Harper's
Ferry, where he was highly respected for his integrity and business
qualifications. His life was one of many vicissitudes and he died in the
spring of 1892 at Hagerstown, Maryland.

Terence O'Byrne was at the time of the raid about forty-eight years of
age. He was, as far as is known here, the last survivor of the hostages,
except young Alstadt. As his name indicates, he was of Irish extraction.
He was in comfortable circumstances and resided near the Kennedy farm
where, unfortunately for him, he became well known to Brown and his men.
Mr. O'Byrne was examined before the Senate committee and testified that
the party who captured him was composed of Cook, Tydd and Lehman. They
visited his house early on Monday morning and conducted him a prisoner
to Harper's Ferry. Mr. O'Byrne died about the year 1898.

Israel Russell was then about fifty years of age. He was for many years
a magistrate of Jefferson county, and was very much respected. He died a
few years ago from a disease of the jaw, caused by the extraction of a
defective tooth. It is strange that men will often escape unhurt from
the most appalling dangers to succumb to apparently trivial ailments or
casualties.

Of Mr. Schoppe little is known at Harper's Ferry. As before stated, he
was a resident of Frederick City, Maryland, and his connection with the
raid was due entirely to his accidental presence at the scene of
disturbance on the memorable 17th of October.

Of the Grand Jury that indicted Brown and the Petit Jury that tried and
condemned him there is but one survivor, as far as the writer knows, Mr.
Martin, now of Virginia. Judge Parker, who presided at the trial, and
the lawyers--Hunter and Harding--who prosecuted, have all "crossed the
bar" as have, probably, the strangers who defended. The
sheriff--Cambell--who officiated at the execution, and all his deputies,
have passed away. Lee and Stuart are dead, and it is believed that of
all who figured prominently in this remarkable tragedy the juror above
referred to is the only survivor, with the exceptions before named and
possibly that of Lieutenant Greene of the marines; but John Brown's fame
is on the increase and time enhances it, call him what you will. It is
remarkable that the gentlemen who were Brown's prisoners displayed
little or no vindictiveness towards the man who had subjected them to so
much danger. The writer frequently noticed in conversation with them
that they invariably dwelt on his extraordinary courage and that the
animosity, which it was natural they should feel on account of his
treatment of them, was lost in their admiration for his daring, though
misguided bravery. Mr. Donohoo visited him in prison and, very much to
his credit, exhibited towards his fallen foe a generosity characteristic
of the man himself and the gallant nation of his birth.

The story of the Brown raid should not close without notice of another
party who figured rather curiously in that memorable transaction. At
that time there lived at Harper's Ferry a half-witted fellow, named John
Malloy, who managed to gain a precarious living by getting scraps of
broken bread and meat from the kitchens of the people, in return for
services rendered in carrying water from the town pump and the river. He
was never known to sleep in a house--a door step answering all the
purposes of a bed, and a store box being regarded by him as a positive
luxury. When drunk--which was as often as he could get whiskey
enough--he had a particular fancy for a sleep on the railroad track and,
in consequence, he was run over several times by the trains, but it
appeared as if nothing could kill him. On one occasion the point of a
"cow catcher" entered his neck and he was pushed by the engine a
considerable distance. Even this did not terminate his charmed life, but
several ugly scars remained as mementos of the adventure. Like others,
he was taken prisoner by Brown and confined in the armory yard. About 3
o'clock in the afternoon of Monday when the alarm had spread a long way
and people had crowded in from the surrounding country, armed with every
species of weapon they could lay hands on, John managed to escape by
climbing the armory wall. When he was seen getting over, the country
people to whom he was unknown supposed that he was one of Brown's men,
and score of them blazed away at him with their guns. A shower of
bullets whistled 'round him and his clothes, never in the best of
repair, were almost shot off his body. No less than twenty balls
perforated his coat, but, strange to say, he escaped without a scratch
and succeeded in regaining his liberty. When, after the raid, strangers
visited the scene, John always made it a point to be about, exhibiting
the scars which he had received from the cowcatcher and attributing them
to wounds inflicted by Brown's party. Many a dollar did John receive on
the strength of those scars and, no doubt, he has figured in many a
tourist's book as a hero and a martyr to the cause of the "Divine
Institution." His escape from the bullets of his neighbors was certainly
remarkable, and it goes to prove the truth of the old proverb: "A fool
for luck, &c." Notwithstanding his many close calls and his persistent
good fortune, poor John finally succumbed to a combined assault of
smallpox and bad whiskey. He was attacked by the former disease in the
war--the other he was never without and in a delirium, he wandered away
and was found dead in a fence corner.

The foregoing is a succinct account of the so-called "Brown Raid," an
invasion which may be considered as the commencement of our unhappy
civil war. Of course, it created intense excitement all over the land
and the feeling aroused had not subsided when the election of Mr.
Lincoln in November, 1860, renewed the quarrel on a greater scale. As
before noticed, a select committee of the United States Senate was
appointed to investigate the occurrence, and the following gentlemen
testified before it: John Alstadt, A. M. Ball, George W. Chambers, Lynd
F. Currie, Andrew Hunter, A. M. Kitzmiller, Dr. John D. Starry, John C.
Unseld, Lewis W. Washington and Daniel Whelan, all of Harper's Ferry or
its neighborhood. Many gentlemen from the northern and western states,
also, who were supposed to be sympathizers with Brown were called on to
give testimony. Prominent among these were John A. Andrews, a lawyer of
Boston, afterwards governor of Massachusetts, and Joshua R. Giddings, a
leading anti-slavery man of Ohio and for many years a member of Congress
from that state. Nothing, however, was elicited to prove that any
considerable number of the people of the Free States knew of the
contemplated invasion and unprejudiced minds were convinced that the
knowledge of it was confined mostly to John Brown and the party that
accompanied him on the expedition.

Thus Harper's Ferry enjoys the distinction of having been the scene of
the first act in our fearful drama of civil war, and as will be seen
hereafter, it was the theatre of many another part of the awful
tragedy.




CHAPTER V.

DURING THE WAR.


In the following we sometimes, indifferently use the words "rebel,"
"insurgent" and "confederate," "federal," "union men," "northern men"
&c. These different epithets are used only to avoid disagreeable
repetitions of the same words. There is no offense intended, and it is
hoped that none will be taken. George Washington was a rebel and he was
proud to be considered one. We have noticed lately that some people are
sensitive on this subject, and hence our explanation. Personally, we owe
too little to either party to take sides very decidedly.

When, on the election of Mr. Lincoln, the Gulf states seceded and the
Legislature of Virginia called a convention of the people to consider
what course was best to be pursued under the circumstances, Mr. A. M.
Barbour, superintendent of the Harper's Ferry armory, and Mr. Logan
Osborne, both now dead, were elected to the convention to represent the
union sentiment of the county of Jefferson over Andrew Hunter and
William Lucas, eminent lawyers, both of whom, also, are now deceased,
who were nominated on the secession ticket. While in Richmond, however,
attending the convention, Mr. Barbour is said to have been drawn into
the vortex of rebellion through the powerful influences brought to bear
by the secessionists on the members of that body. Mr. Barbour's family
is one of the oldest and most aristocratic in Virginia, and many of his
relatives had seats in the convention and were ultra-southern in their
views. These, no doubt, had great influence over him, and, anyway he was
finally induced to vote for a separation of his native state from the
union. Indeed, many at Harper's Ferry who voted for him at the election,
did so with strong misgivings respecting his sincerity, but, as there
was no better choice under the circumstances, they gave him their
support. Some who enjoyed his confidence said that he afterwards
bitterly regretted his course, and the writer is convinced that Mr.
Barbour acted from sheer compulsion. The author of these pages was then
a young man--poor and without weight in the community, but Mr. Barbour
appeared to have some confidence in his judgment, for he sought an
interview with him and asked him his advice as to the proper course to
pursue in the convention. The author told him that he had a fine chance
to immortalize himself by holding out for the Union of the States; that
he was of a prominent southern family and that, if he proved faithful,
his loyalty under the circumstances would give him such a national
reputation as he could not hope for from the opposite course. They
parted to meet but once again, and that for only a minute. After the
fatal vote of the convention, Mr. Barbour called on business at the
place where the author was employed and said just three words to
him--"You were right." These words told the tale of compulsion or,
perhaps, of contrition. The ordinance of secession was passed by the
Virginia convention on the 17th of April, 1861, and, on the following
day Mr. Barbour made his appearance at Harper's Ferry in company with
Mr. Seddon, afterwards prominent in the confederate government. He made
a speech to his old employes advising them to co-operate with their
native state and give in their allegiance to the new order of things. He
appeared to be laboring under great excitement caused, perhaps, by his
consciousness of having done wrong and unwisely. This speech excited the
anger of the unionists to a high pitch, as he had received their
suffrages on the understanding that he was for the old government
unconditionally. A partial riot took place and the appearance soon after
of a southern soldier, a young man named John Burk, on guard over the
telegraph office, aroused the loyalists to frenzy. Lieutenant Roger
Jones, with forty-two regular United States soldiers, was then stationed
at Harper's Ferry, a company of military having been kept there by the
government for the protection of the place since the Brown raid. Hearing
that a large force was marching from the south to take possession of the
armory, he made some preparations to defend the post and called on the
citizens for volunteers. Many responded, prominent among whom was a
gigantic Irishman named Jeremiah Donovan, who immediately shouldered a
musket and stood guard at the armory gate. This man was the first--at
least in that region--who took up arms in defense of the government and,
as will be seen shortly, he was very near paying a heavy penalty for his
patriotism. As before mentioned, a southern soldier was on guard at the
telegraph office and he and Donovan were not fifty yards apart at their
posts. To use a homely phrase, Harper's Ferry was "between hawk and
buzzard," a condition in which it remained 'till the war was ended four
years afterwards. All day the wildest excitement prevailed in the town.
All business was suspended except in the bar-rooms, and many fist fights
came off between the adherents of the adverse factions. Mr. William F.
Wilson, an Englishman by birth, but long a resident of the place,
attempted to address the people in favor of the Union, but he was
hustled about so that his words could not be heard distinctly. Mr.
Wilson continued all through the war to be an ardent supporter of the
Federal government. Mr. George Koonce, a man of great activity and
personal courage, and Mr. Wilson, above mentioned, who is also a man of
great nerve, were very prompt in volunteering their aid to Lieutenant
Jones, and the latter put great confidence in them. With a few young men
they advanced a little before midnight to meet the Virginia militia,
about two thousand in number, who were marching towards Harper's Ferry
from Charlestown. They encountered and, it is said, actually halted them
on Smallwood's Ridge, near Bolivar. At this moment, however, news
reached them that Lieutenant Jones, acting on orders from Washington
City or under directions from Captain Kingsbury, who had been sent from
the capital the day before to take charge of the armory, had set fire to
the government buildings and, with his men, retreated towards the north.
This left the volunteers in a very awkward position, but they succeeded
in escaping in the darkness from the host of enemies that confronted
them. Mr. Koonce was obliged to leave the place immediately and remain
away until the town again fell into the hands of the United States
troops. A loud explosion and a thick column of fire and smoke arising in
the direction of Harper's Ferry, gave to the confederate force
information of the burning, and they proceeded at double quick to save
the machinery in the shops and the arms in the arsenal for the use of
the revolutionary government. Before they had time to reach Harper's
Ferry the citizens of that place had extinguished the fire in the shops
and saved them and the machinery. The arsenal, however, was totally
consumed with about fifteen thousand stand of arms there stored--a very
serious loss to the confederates, who had made calculations to get
possession of them. Lieutenant Jones had put powder in the latter
building and hence the explosion which had given notice to the
confederates and, hence, also, the impossibility of saving the arsenal
or its contents. Just at 12 o'clock on the night of April 18th, 1861,
the southern forces marched into Harper's Ferry. Poor Donovan was seized
and it is said that a rope was put 'round his neck by some citizens of
the place who held secession views, and who threatened to hang him
instanter. A better feeling, however, prevailed and Donovan was
permitted to move north and seek employment under the government of his
choice. The forces that first took possession of Harper's Ferry were all
of Virginia and this was lucky for Donovan, for the soldiers of that
state were the most tolerant of the confederates, which is not giving
them extravagant praise. Had he fallen into the hands of the men from
the Gulf states who came on in a few days, he would not have escaped so
easily. These latter were near lynching Dr. Joseph E. Cleggett and Mr.
Solomon V. Yantis, citizens of the town, for their union opinions. The
Virginia militia were commanded by Turner Ashby, afterwards so famous
for his exploits in the Valley of Virginia. His career was short but
glorious from a mere soldier's view. He was killed near Port Republic
June 6th, 1862, by a shot fired, it is said, by one of the
Bucktail--Pennsylvania--regiment, and he and his equally gallant
brother, Richard, who was killed in the summer of 1861 at Kelly's
Island, near Cumberland, Maryland, now sleep in one grave at Winchester,
Virginia. It may be noted that Donovan met with no valuable recognition
of his gallantry. He worked all the rest of his days as a helper in a
blacksmith's shop at laborer's wages, while many a smooth traitor who
secretly favored the rebellion and many a weak-kneed patriot who was too
cowardly to oppose it, while there was any danger in doing so, prospered
and grew fat on government patronage. There are many instances of this
prudent patriotism not far from Harper's Ferry and certain it is that
few of the noisy politicians, so loyal now, exhibited the courage and
disinterested attachment to our government that was shown by this
obscure laborer. Harper's Ferry now ceased for a time to be in the
possession of the national government. Next day--April 19th--news
arrived of the disgraceful riot in Baltimore, when the 6th Massachusetts
regiment was attacked while marching to the defense of the national
capital. Exaggerated reports of the slaughter of "Yankee" soldiers were
circulated and Maryland was truly represented as ready for revolt.
Numbers of volunteers, arrived from various parts of that state,
especially from Baltimore, and many of those who participated in the
riot came to Harper's Ferry and for a season were lionized. In a few
days the troops of Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky and other
southern states arrived and were greeted with the utmost enthusiasm. The
forces of Kentucky, like those of Maryland, were volunteers in the
strictest sense. Neither of these last two states ever formally seceded
and therefore their sons were not in any way compelled to join the
confederate army. The Kentuckians who came to Harper's Ferry were among
the worst specimens of the force to which they were attached, being
composed mostly of rough, Ohio boatmen and low <DW15>s from the purlieus
of Louisville and other river towns. Martial law was at once substituted
for the civil and for the first time--if we except the Brown raid--the
peaceful citizens experienced the dangers and inconveniences of military
occupation. General Harper, a militia officer of Staunton, Virginia,
was put in command, but in a few days the confederates wisely dispensed
with "feather bed" and "corn stalk" officers and put into important
commands West Pointers and men of regular military education. In
consequence of an order to this effect many a "swell" who had strutted
about for a few days in gorgeous uniform was shorn of his finery and it
was amusing to see the crest-fallen, disappointed appearance of the
deposed warriors. General Harper, like many of inferior grade, was
removed and Colonel Jackson was put in command of the place. The latter
officer was at this time quite obscure. He was known to few outside of
the walls of the Virginia military academy at Lexington, but he
afterwards gained a world-wide reputation under the name of "Stonewall
Jackson." All the government property at the place was seized and many
families who were renting houses from the government were obliged to
vacate their homes at great inconvenience and procure shelter wherever
they could. Guards were posted along the streets at very short intervals
and these, like all young soldiers, were extremely zealous and exacting.
Of course, regular business was entirely destroyed, but new branches of
industry of the humblest and, in some cases, of the most disreputable
kind sprang into existence. The baking of pies and the smuggling of
whiskey were the principal employments of those who felt the need of
some kind of work, and these trades continued to flourish at the place
all through the war to the probable detriment to the stomachs and the
certain damage to the morals of the consumers. The whiskey business was
exceedingly profitable and it was embraced by all who were willing to
run the risk attending it (for it was strictly interdicted by the
military commanders of both sides) and who regardless of the disgraceful
nature of the employment.

Another trade soon sprang up--that of the spy. Malicious and officious
people--many of whom are to be found in all communities--stuffed the
ears of the hot-headed southern men with tales about sneaking
abolitionists, black republicans, unconditional union men, &c., and
private enmity had an excellent opportunity for gratification, of which
villains did not hesitate to avail themselves. Many quiet, inoffensive
citizens were dragged from their homes and confined in filthy guard
houses, a prey to vermin and objects of insult to the rabble that
guarded them. Large histories could be written on the sufferings of
individuals during this period and our proposed limits would not contain
the hundredth part of them.

Sometimes a false alarm about advancing "Yankees" would set the soldiers
on the qui vive and, of course, the citizens were on such occasions
thrown into a state of the utmost terror. Sometimes, also, the officers
would start or encourage the circulation of these reports in order to
test the mettle of their men and several times were lines of battle
formed in and around the town. On one occasion a terrible hail storm
came up which, of itself, is worthy of a place in the annals of the
town. In the midst of descending cakes of ice the 2nd Virginia
regiment--raised mostly in Jefferson county--was ordered to march to
Shepherdstown to repel an imaginary invasion. They obeyed with alacrity
and returned, if not war-torn, certainly storm-pelted and
weather-beaten, as their bleeding faces and torn and soaked uniforms
amply proved.

The confederates exercised control over the Baltimore and Ohio railroad
and also the Winchester and Potomac railway, the latter being entirely
within the territory of Virginia, and, whenever a passenger train
stopped at the station, the travelers were scrutinized and, if a man of
any prominence who was attached to the old government was recognized
among them, he was greeted with groans, hisses and threats of lynching.
On one occasion the Hon. Henry Hoffman, of Cumberland, who, even then,
was regarded as an ultra-Republican, was a passenger and, when the train
stopped at Harper's Ferry, the fact of his presence was made known to
the crowds of soldiers on the platform of the depot by a fellow
passenger who evidently entertained some private malice against Mr.
Hoffman. The informer stood on the platform of one of the cars and, with
wild gestures and foaming mouth, denounced Mr. Hoffman in the fiercest
manner and, no doubt, the life of the latter would have been sacrificed
had not some of the more cool-headed among the confederate officers
present poured oil on the troubled waters until the starting of the
train. One evening the mail train was detained and the mail bags were
taken away from the government agent by an armed posse. The letters were
sent to headquarters and many of the townspeople to whom friends in the
north and west had written freely denouncing secession, were put under
arrest and some were in imminent danger of being subjected to the utmost
rigor of military law. Mr. William McCoy, of Bolivar, an aged, infirm
man and one of irreproachable character, was handled very roughly on
this occasion. He was arrested on some charge founded on evidence
obtained from the plundered mail bags and he was kept for several days
in close confinement. The military authorities in the meantime expressed
their intention of making him a signal example of vengeance. Whether
they really meant to go to extremes with him or not is uncertain; but
there is no doubt that the ill usage he received from them hastened his
death. With the utmost difficulty some powerful friends succeeded in
obtaining for him a commutation of the proposed punishment, and he was
allowed very grudgingly to move with his family to Ohio, on condition
that he should never return. Hastily picking up a few necessities, he
started on the first train going west for the place of his exile, glad
enough to escape with his life, even at the sacrifice of his valuable
property in Bolivar. The confederate soldiers immediately destroyed the
neat fence around his residence and filled up the post holes, in order,
as they said, to give him as much trouble as possible in case he was
enabled at any time to return. The house itself being necessary to them
as barracks, was spared unwillingly. The poor old man died in a short
time after and, no doubt, he now enjoys all the happiness promised to
those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake. It is true that, even
in the peaceful realms to which poor "Uncle Billy" has ascended there
was once a rebellion, but there never will be another in that happy
land and, if there should be, he need not fear any worse treatment than
he received on earth from the chivalry of his native south.

Mr. Abraham H. Herr, proprietor of the Island of Virginius, was
arrested, like Mr. McCoy, on some charge founded on his intercepted
correspondence. He was taken to Richmond, but was released soon after on
parole, as is supposed. He was a native of Pennsylvania and, although he
had voted with the south to ratify the ordinance of secession passed by
the Virginia convention, he lay under suspicion of unfriendly thoughts
toward the south, and it will appear hereafter that he suffered for his
supposed attachment to the union, a heavy loss in property, besides the
deprivation of liberty above noted.

Harper's Ferry was occupied for nearly two months by the confederates.
The fine machinery at the workshops was torn down and transplanted to
Fayetteville, North Carolina, where the rebels had established an
armory. While the place was held by the insurgents it presented a scene,
novel at the time, but very familiar during the remainder of the war.
One night great excitement was caused by the capture of General Harney
of the United States army, who was a passenger on board of one of the
trains en route for Washington City from Saint Louis. The general was
sent a prisoner to Richmond, but his advanced years rendering it
improbable that he could do much good or harm to either side, he was
soon released, and he was not again heard from 'till the close of the
war. While a prisoner on the road from Harper's Ferry to Charlestown, he
and his guards came up to a squad of farmers who, on their plough
horses, were learning the cavalry drill. The officer who was instructing
them sat in a buggy, either because he could not procure a decent horse
or on account of illness. The sight furnished the old veteran with
infinite amusement and, turning to his guards, he said that in all his
army experience of over half a century and, in all he studied of
warfare, he had never before seen or heard of a cavalry officer
commanding his troop from a buggy seat, and his fat sides fairly shook
with laughter at the oddity of the conceit. The sarcasm was felt by the
guards, and they were forced to admit that this innovation on cavalry
methods was hardly an improvement. In a short time after his appointment
General Jackson was succeeded by General Joe Johnston, who continued in
command of the post until the retreat of the confederates from the place
after an occupancy of it of two months.

On the 14th of June the insurgents blew up the railroad bridge, burned
the main armory buildings and retreated up the valley, taking with them
as prisoners, Edmond H. Chambers, Hezekiah Roderick, Nathaniel O.
Allison and Adam Ruhlman, four prominent citizens of Harper's Ferry,
whom they lodged in jail at Winchester on the charge of inveterate
unionism. From the first, preparations had been made for the destruction
of the railroad bridge under the superintendence of competent engineers
and, early in the morning of the day above named, the town was alarmed
at hearing a loud explosion and seeing the debris of the destroyed
bridge flying high in the air. The noise was apparently the signal for
the march or retreat of the confederates up the valley, for instantly
their columns set out in that direction leaving, however, the most
dangerous of their forces--that is the most dangerous to civilians, to
loiter in the rear and pick up whatever was unprotected and portable.
Fortunately, however, they soon quarreled among themselves and, as
usual, when bad people fall out, the honest are the gainers. Toward
night the marauders were gathered up by a guard sent back for them and
they vacated the place, leaving one of their number murdered by his
fellows.

After the retreat of the confederates a dead calm reigned for a few days
and the stillness was rendered oppressive by contrast with the former
bustle and confusion. On the 28th of June a force, composed of some
Baltimoreans and a part of the 2nd Mississippi regiment, under the
command of Colonel Faulkner of the latter, made its appearance in the
early morning hours and destroyed with fire the rifle factory and the
Shenandoah bridge, as also engine No. 165 and some cars of the
Baltimore and Ohio railroad company which they pushed on the ruins of
the bridge destroyed on the 14th, until they fell through into the
Potomac. Again, on the retreat of this force, did a silence deep as that
of an Arabian desert brood over the place, broken only by the stealthy
step of some petty thief engaged in picking up stray articles belonging
to the army or to the citizens who had fled in every direction, and
almost completely deserted the town as soon as the confederates had
pushed far enough up the valley to leave the roads comparatively safe.
It is to be noted that the confederates had outposts in Maryland and
that they refused permission to depart in any direction to any one of
whose loyalty to them they had any doubt. On their retreat the way to
the north was open to all whose inclinations led them in that direction
and very many availed themselves at once of the opportunity to escape
offered by the retreat of the rebels.

On the 4th of July a lively skirmish took place between Captain John
Henderson's company of confederate cavalry and a part of the 9th New
York regiment of militia, which a few days before had occupied Sandy
Hook in Maryland--one mile east of Harper's Ferry--the same village in
which John Brown boarded when he first came to the neighborhood--the
federal soldiers being on the Maryland side and the confederates on the
Virginia shore of the river, the game was at "long taw" and
comparatively little damage was done. Two men were killed on the
Maryland bank and at least one wounded on the Virginia side. The name of
one of the slain New Yorkers was Banks and it was said that he was a man
of high character in his regiment and at his home, but the name of the
other is unknown to the author. The man wounded on the Virginia shore
was a shoemaker of Harper's Ferry, named Harding, who, although not in
the army, was a sympathizer with the south. On this occasion he was on a
spree and, having exposed himself recklessly, he received a dangerous
wound. He was an Irishman by birth, and had served many years in the
British East India Company's forces. The honor of having wounded him
was claimed by John, better known as "Ginger" Chambers, a citizen of
Harper's Ferry, who, being strongly attached to the Union and, happening
to be at Sandy Hook at this time, picked up a gun and fell into ranks
with the New Yorkers. Poor Ginger afterwards met his weird not far from
the spot where he fought on that 4th of July. On the morning of October
14th, 1874, he was almost literally cut to pieces by an engine of the
Baltimore and Ohio railroad while on his way to take charge of a train
of which he was the conductor. Prominent among the confederates in this
skirmish was a man named James Miller, of Halltown, Jefferson county,
and it is thought that it was he who killed Banks. In a short time
after, while he was under the influence of whiskey, he, in company with
a fellow-soldier named Kerfott, shot his captain--Henderson--wounding
him severely, and for this offense he was executed in Winchester by
order of a court martial. The skirmish, of course, effected little
beyond putting the few old people who still clung to their homes at the
place into a most uncomfortable state of alarm.

In the evening when the fight was over a sad occurrence took place
whereby the community lost one of its very best citizens. When the
confederates had retired Mr. F. A. Roeder walked towards the railroad
office and, while he was sauntering about, a shot was fired from the
Maryland side of the Potomac, which inflicted a mortal wound on him, of
which he died in half an hour. It is known that the bullet was
discharged at Mr. Ambrose Cross who, also, was on the railroad at the
time. The man who thus deprived the place of a valuable citizen was an
old <DW15> belonging to a Pennsylvania regiment, who had straggled from
his command in Pleasant Valley and had become drunk, celebrating the
"glorious Fourth" at Sandy Hook. Hearing of the skirmish at Harper's
Ferry, he staggered towards that place and arrived after the end of the
fight, and, when the enemy had retired. Seeing Mr. Cross on the railroad
he fired off his gun at him, swearing that he would kill some d-- rebel
anyway. The shot missed the object at which it was directed and,
striking the end of Fouke's hotel, it glanced and hit Mr. Roeder, who,
unfortunately, happened to be then coming 'round the corner of that
building. The bullet tore a ghastly hole in his groin through which his
intestines protruded. He managed to reach his home unassisted--for there
was scarcely an able-bodied man then at the place--when death soon
released him from his sufferings. Little did the slayer know and little,
perhaps, would he care if he knew--that the man he shot at--Mr.
Cross--was one of the sternest Union men in the whole land and that his
bullet proved fatal to one of the first men in the State of Virginia who
dared to express sympathy with the Republican party. Mr. Roeder was a
native of Saxony, but he had resided for many years at Harper's Ferry,
where he was very much respected and where by industry he had
accumulated a considerable property. He was very much opposed to slavery
and his death, especially under the circumstances, was very much
deplored. It is singular that the first man killed by John Brown's party
was a <DW64> and that the first who lost his life at Harper's Ferry at
the hands of the union army was a warm friend to the government and one
who would have sacrificed, if necessary, all the property he possessed
to preserve the union of the states. Who knows what design an all-wise
Providence had in permitting these mistakes, or what good purposes the
death of these men may have subserved. Mr. Roeder appeared to have a
presentiment of his fate. On the 14th of June, when the confederates
retreated, he called the author of these pages into his house and
invited him to partake of a cup of "Schnapps," for a similarity of
tastes and sentiments on many subjects had bound them for several years
in the closest friendship. When they were seated Mr. Roeder remarked:
"Well, we have got rid of that lot and have escaped at least with our
lives, but what will the next party that comes do with us?" He appeared
to be in very low spirits and to look forward to the next party with
apprehension. His fears were prophetic for, in a few days, he met his
fate at the hands of the first body of federal troops that made its
appearance at the place after the evacuation by Lieutenant Jones.

It was sad to see the rapid demoralization of the people at this time
and the various phases of corrupt human nature suddenly brought to light
by the war. Not only were the government buildings ransacked for
plunder, but the abandoned houses of the citizens shared the same fate.
Even women and children could be encountered at all hours of the day and
night loaded with booty or trundling wheelbarrows freighted with all
imaginable kinds of portable goods and household furniture. In many
instances their shamelessness was astounding and it appeared as if they
considered that a state of war gave unlimited privilege for plunder.
Citizens who recognized their property in the hands of those marauders
and claimed it, were abused and sometimes beaten and, sadder yet to be
related, women were in many instances, most prominent in those
disgraceful scenes. Spies were constantly crossing and recrossing the
Potomac to give information to their friends on either side, and it
frequently happened that the same parties were or pretended to be
working in the interests of both armies and, as the phrase goes,
"carried water on both shoulders." In the country horse-stealing was
prosecuted on a gigantic scale and quite a brisk business was carried on
by certain parties pursuing the thieves and capturing runaway <DW64>s,
for slavery had not yet been abolished by law and many slaves were
taking advantage of the unsettled state of affairs to make their escape
to freedom.

On the 21st of July General Patterson, who had been operating with a
large union army watching General Joe Johnston's motions around
Winchester, fell back from Charlestown to Harper's Ferry. This was the
day on which the first battle of Bull Run was fought in which Johnston
took an important part, having given the slip to Patterson, who no
doubt, was much surprised afterwards to learn that his antagonist was
not still at Winchester on that fatal day. Patterson's army occupied
Harper's Ferry for several days and helped themselves to most of what
was left by the rebels. Whatever may be said of their exploits on the
field of battle their achievements in the foraging line are certainly
worthy of mention in this and all other impartial histories of that
period. The United States army at that time was composed of "three
month's men" and certainly, it must be said that if they were not
thieves before their enlistment their proficiency in the art of stealing
was extraordinary, considering the short time they were learning this
accomplishment so necessary or at least so becoming in a thorough
campaigner, especially while in an enemy's country. Hen's teeth are
articles the scarcity of which is proverbial in all countries, but it
can be safely averred that, when this army left Harper's Ferry, the
teeth of those useful fowls were as plentiful at that place as any other
part of them, and Saint Columbkill himself could not desire more utter
destruction to the race of cocks than was inflicted on them at Harper's
Ferry by General Patterson's army. Indeed, every thing movable
disappeared before them and, at the risk of not being believed, the
author will declare that he learned of their carrying off a tombstone
from the Methodist cemetery. What they wanted with it he will not
venture to guess, but a regard for the truth of history compels him to
relate the fact. It may have been that some company cook wanted it for a
hearth-stone or it may have been that some pious warrior desired to set
it up in his tent as an aid to his devotions, but certain it is that six
or eight soldiers of this army were seen by many of the citizens
conveying it between them from the cemetery to their bivouac in the
armory yard.

When Patterson's men crossed into Maryland on their way home--their
three month's term of service having expired--quiet again, and for a
comparatively long time, reigned at Harper's Ferry. At Sandy Hook,
however, there was a lively time during the month of August and a part
of September. General Nathaniel Banks, of Massachusetts, at one time
speaker of the House of Representatives, was sent with a large army to
occupy that village and Pleasant Valley, and, for six or seven weeks,
those places enjoyed the felicity that had fallen to the lot of
Harper's Ferry during the spring and early summer. General Banks earned
for himself the reputation of being a thorough gentleman and, although
his after career in the war was not signalized by much success, no
failure on his part has been sufficient to erase the respect which he
earned from people of all shades of political opinion in that region.
His army occupied the low grounds between the Blue Ridge and the
Chesapeake and Ohio canal, as, also, Pleasant Valley, while the
General's headquarters were at the house of Mr. Jacob Miller, near Sandy
Hook. The latter place, though a mere hamlet, at once acquired a
national importance, but, for some reason, Harper's Ferry was entirely
ignored for the time. Indeed it appeared to be an axiom with the
officers of both armies that the latter place could not be defended
successfully against any considerable force. The first battle of Bull
Run or Manassas had been fought July 21st--the day on which General
Patterson's army retreated from Charlestown to Harper's Ferry, instead
of being engaged with General Joe Johnston's forces, who were that day
aiding Beauregard at Manassas, having stolen away from Patterson.
General Banks as well as other commanders of the union army were being
re-organized and prepared for future operations, and Sandy Hook for some
reason, was assigned as the temporary position of that General. Early in
the Fall he moved to Darnestown, twenty miles farther down the river and
after a short stay there he moved to Frederick City, where he spent the
winter. After the departure of the main army for Darnestown the 13th
regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers was left at Sandy Hook as a corps
of observation and a guard for the ford at Harper's Ferry. These men
were uncommonly zealous in shooting at rebels as long as they--the
13th--were on the Maryland side of the river with the broad Potomac
between them and the enemy, or rather between them and Virginia for,
now, it rarely happened that a Confederate soldier appeared anywhere
within gun shot of them. Crouching under the buttresses of the ruined
bridge on the Maryland side of the river in the now dry bed of the
canal, or among the thickets and rocks of the Maryland Heights, the
gallant 13th kept up a constant fire on the few inhabitants of Harper's
Ferry, suspecting or affecting to suspect them of being rebels.
Everything that moved about the streets they shot at vindictively. The
appearance of even a mullein leaf swaying in the wind elicited a volley
from these ever vigilant guardians of the nation, and it was lucky for
the place that they were indifferent marksmen, else it would have been
wholly depopulated. They had field glasses through which they watched
the motions of the inhabitants and there is no exaggeration in saying
that they shot at weeds set in motion by the wind, for it frequently
occurred that volleys were fired at bushes which in no way could hide an
enemy and which were noteworthy only because they were set in motion by
the breeze. Sometimes the 13th would send detachments in skiffs across
the river and on one or two occasions they were encountered by parties
of Confederates who would occasionally lurk in the cemetery and behind
the fences on Camp Hill and keep up a scattering fire on the "Yankees"
in the town. In one of these skirmishes a rebel soldier named Jones was
killed near the graveyard, a bullet having penetrated through the palm
of his hand and then into his stomach. In this affair an officer of the
13th, whose name need not be given, very much distinguished himself. At
the first fire he jumped into the Shenandoah to hide behind a stone wall
that protects the Winchester and Potomac railroad from the strong
current of the river. Although he effectually shielded himself against
fire, he was not equally successful against the river which at this
place is both deep and rapid and he had much difficulty in saving
himself from being drowned. As it was, his fine clothes were much
damaged and a red sash, which he wore around him, left a stain on his
uniform which could not be removed by any amount of washing. It would
appear as if a soldier's uniform eternally blushed for the cowardice of
the unworthy wearer. This officer was loaded down with medals and badges
of merit which he said himself he had gained in the Crimean campaign,
fighting against the Russian Bear. After this skirmish he lost caste in
his regiment and soon after he was sentenced by a court martial to a
term in Sing-Sing for embezzlement. It is told that when he entered the
prison and the principal keeper, with a view of assigning him to some
suitable employment, inquired if he had learned a trade of any kind, he
answered, that he never had labored any, but that he was a scholar and
could talk in seven languages. The keeper on this told him that at
Sing-Sing there was but one language spoken and d-- little of that, and
he immediately set the scholar to work in one of the shops. This was
unkind in the keeper but, no doubt, it would be difficult to please all
penitentiary prisoners in assigning them employment during their terms
of servitude. An Irishman, under similar circumstances, was asked what
trade he would have and answered that he always had a liking for the
sea, and that he would choose to be a sailor. History does not record
what success the Irishman met with in the assignment to work.

Our hero was certainly a poor specimen of the men who fought at Alma and
Sebastopol, if, indeed, he ever saw the Crimea, which is very doubtful.
In justice it ought to be noted that he was not a Massachusetts man by
birth. His men, however, on this occasion showed a good deal of
gallantry and, under Lieutenant Brown, of the same company--=his= name
needs no concealment--they stood their ground like good soldiers until
the enemy retired. The writer is not prone to saying harsh things, but
he cannot forget the many bullets shot at him by the above regiment and
that a whole platoon of them once opened fire on him and a young lady in
whose company he was at the time, actually cutting off with their balls
portions of the lady's headgear. He also remembers a degrading
proposition made to him by some of them--that he should inform them as
to what rebels in the neighborhood were in good circumstances, with a
view of plundering them, the rebels, and dividing the proceeds with the
informer. The officer whose conduct in the skirmish was so discreditable
would have been left to oblivion, had not his behavior to some ladies of
the place been as disgraceful as his cowardice in battle. But,
notwithstanding all this, his name is mercifully omitted.

Early in October Mr. A. H. Herr, proprietor of the Island of Virginius
and the large flour mill on it, having a large quantity of wheat which
he could not grind into flour--his mill having been partially destroyed
by some federal troops under Lieutenant Colonel Andrews, brother of the
governor of Massachusetts, in order to prevent the confederates from
using it--and being a union man at heart, invited the government troops
to remove the grain to Maryland. There being no bridge across the
Potomac at the time, a large boat was procured and a company of the 3rd
Wisconsin regiment impressed the few able-bodied men at the place into
the service of the government to take the wheat from the mill to the
boat and ferry it across with the aid of the soldiers. The citizens were
promised a liberal per diem, but that, like many other good promises and
intentions, forms a part of the pavement of a certain region where it
never freezes. Even the sacred person of the future historian of the
town was not spared, and many a heavy sack did he tote during several
days, under the eye of a grim Wisconsin sergeant who appeared to enjoy
immensely the author's indignation at his being put to this servile
employment. Like the recreant soldier at Sing-Sing, the historian
derived no benefit on this occasion from the smattering of different
languages with which he is credited, while the sergeant was indifferent
as to the tongue in which the writer chose to swear or to the number of
anathemas he thought proper to vent against the world in general and
soldiers in particular, he took care that the hapless author did his
full complement of the work. Suddenly, on the 16th of October--the
second anniversary of the Brown raid--while the citizens and soldiers
were busy working at the wheat, a report reached them that Colonel
Ashby, at the head of the Virginia militia, was approaching from
Charlestown to put a stop to their work. The news turned out to be true
and Colonel--afterwards General--Geary, at one time governor of the
territory of Kansas, and, after the war, chief executive of the State
of Pennsylvania, at the head of three companies of the 28th
Pennsylvania, three companies of the 13th Massachusetts and the same of
the 3rd Wisconsin regiments, crossed the river from Maryland and marched
through Harper's Ferry to Bolivar Heights, where the enemy were posted.
A very sharp skirmish took place, which is known in history as the
battle of Bolivar Heights. Both sides claimed the victory, though both
retreated--Geary to Maryland and Ashby up the valley towards
Charlestown. Four or five federal soldiers lost their lives in this
affair, but the loss of the Confederates is unknown to the writer. It is
certain that many of them were wounded severely, but they acknowledged
only one death. Many young men of the neighborhood of Harper's Ferry,
who were serving in the confederate army, were wounded in this battle,
among whom were J. W. Rider and John Yates Beall, the latter of whom was
afterwards executed in New York for being engaged in hostile acts within
the limits of that state. Colonel Geary succeeded in capturing and
taking to Maryland a large cannon belonging to the confederates, but the
latter claimed that they had abandoned it as being unserviceable and
that there was no honor attached to the possession of it by the union
troops.

The federal soldiers were very much excited on this occasion, in
consequence of a malicious report spread among them that some citizens
of Bolivar were harboring the enemy in their houses and giving them an
opportunity to pick off the unionists from the windows. Mr. Patrick
Hagan was arrested on this charge and hurried away to Maryland without
his getting time to put on his coat of which he had divested himself for
work around his house. This gentleman was one of the most peaceable men
of the place, and no citizen of either party in Harper's Ferry or
Bolivar believed that he was guilty. Notwithstanding his high character,
however, he was taken away in the condition mentioned and kept in
confinement for several months in a government fort. This is one of many
instances where private malice got in those unhappy times an opportunity
for venting its spite under the cloak of patriotism. In a few days
after this skirmish a party of confederate cavalry entered the town and
burned Mr. Herr's extensive mill, thereby inflicting an irreparable loss
on the people of the place. As before noted, Lieutenant Colonel Andrew
had partially destroyed it--that is--he broke up a part of the
machinery--just enough to render the mill incapable of being worked.
This damage could have been easily repaired and, if no further harm had
been done to it, the mill could have been put into working order in a
few days. The confederates, however, destroyed it completely and the
shattered and toppling walls are still to be seen, a monument of
vandalism and a reproach to civilized warriors.

From this time the town was visited nightly by scouts from both sides
and the citizens were, as the Irishman says, "between the devil and the
deep sea." As the nights grew longer and lights became necessary the
people felt the inconveniences of their situation the more keenly. The
sides of the houses fronting the Maryland Heights were, of necessity,
kept in total darkness, else the fire of the unionists was sure to be
attracted. The sides fronting the south stood in equal danger from the
confederates and, families were obliged to manage so that no lights
could be seen by either of the contending forces.

On the 11th of November a party of union men determined to cross the
Potomac and throw themselves on the protection of the United States
government, as they were threatened with conscription by the Virginians
as well as exposed to insult for their opinions. They were, moreover,
men in humble circumstances and they wanted employment somewhere. Their
interest as well as their sympathies were with the north, or rather with
the old government, and they resolved to make a break from the danger
and humiliation of a residence in a debatable territory. Six of them,
namely: Alexander Kelly, the same who had so narrow an escape from
Brown's men; John Kelly, J. Miller Brown, G. S. Collis, Lafayette Davis,
and the author of these annals, therefore procured a leaky skiff from
"Old Tom Hunter," the Charon of the Potomac and Shenandoah since the
destruction of the bridges. Hunter's son ferried them across, just in
time to escape a party of confederates then entering the town, to
impress them into their service. Joyfully, the refugees approached the
Maryland shore after the dangers of their stay at Harper's Ferry and the
no small risk they had run of being drowned, as the river was then very
high and rapid and the skiff unsound and over-burdened with passengers
and baggage. Their disappointment and astonishment were great,
therefore, on their being informed that they would not be allowed to
land; that their crossing was in violation of the rules established by
the officer in command at the post and that they must return to
Virginia. This was not to be thought of and, after a long parley, they
received an ungracious permission to disembark, when they were
immediately made prisoners by order of Major Hector Tyndale, of the 28th
Pennsylvania regiment, in command at the place. This potentate was not
to be cajoled by their protestations of loyalty to the United States
government. In every one of them he saw a rebel spy. He took them
separately into a private room, examined their clothes and took
possession of every paper found on them. Their baggage was searched
thoroughly and several poetical effusions of the author of these pages,
addressed to various Dulcineas of Virginia and Maryland on the day of
"Good Saint Valentine" some years before--copies of which he had
unfortunately retained--excited the wrath of the puritanical Tyndale to
a high pitch and brought down on the hapless poet the heaviest
denunciations. Mr. Collis, also, fell in for a share of the Major's
displeasure. Being a member in good standing of the Independent Order of
Odd Fellows, Mr. Collis had obtained a traveling card from Virginia
Lodge, No. 1, of that society at Harper's Ferry, to which he belonged.
This card he had, or thought he had, put away safely in his vest pocket
which he had pinned securely for the safety of its contents. Major
Tyndale felt the pocket and demanded to know what was in it. Mr. Collis
replied that it was his "traveling card." The major insisted on seeing
it and, lo, when Mr. Collis showed the package and opened it, instead of
an Odd Fellow's card, it turned out to be a daguerreotype likeness of
one of that gentleman's lady friends which, through some inadvertence,
Mr. Collis had substituted for what he had intended to guard with so
much care. The Major taking this mistake for a wilful personal insult,
stormed wildly and remanded the six prisoners for further trial, when
they were confined with other captives in Eader's hotel at Sandy Hook.
It will be believed that, under the circumstances, they were a gloomy
party and, in view of the probability that things would grow worse as
the night advanced, the author uttered a pious ejaculation, expressing a
wish that he had the freedom of Sandy Hook for half an hour to improve
the commissariat of the prisoners which was rather scant and entirely
wanting in that article so indispensable to people in trouble and to
many under any circumstances--whiskey. As luck would have it, the prayer
reached the ear of the sentinel at the prison door, who was a six-foot
representative of that beautiful island which is so touchingly described
by one of its inspired sons as:

    "Poor, dear, ould Ireland, that illigent place
    Where whiskey's for nothing and a beating for less."

The word "whiskey" was the sesame to the sentinel's heart. He looked
around cautiously to see if the officer of the guard was near and, the
coast being clear, he opened the door and, in a confidential way,
remarked that he supposed the speaker was a =dacent= boy who would do
the =clane= thing and that he--the sentinel--would run the risk of
letting him out =on= parole of honor for half an hour. The offer was
accepted joyfully and, in an incredibly short time, the author, who in
those days, "knew all the ropes," returned with a load of crackers,
cheese and sausages, pipes and tobacco, and the main desideratum, a very
corpulent bottle of "tangle foot," a very appropriate name for the
particular brand of Sandy Hook whiskey. With these refreshments and a
greasy pack of cards, the night wore away pleasantly and, before
morning, the Irish sentinel was the jolliest man of the party for, on
every passage of the bottle, his services were gratefully remembered and
rewarded with a jorum. When the time came for relieving the guard the
sentinel was too drunk to stand upright and present arms and the
sergeant who, too, was a good fellow or who was, perhaps, himself drunk,
did not change the guard. Anyway, the jolly Irishman was left at the
post 'till morning and he did not complain of the hardship of losing his
sleep. The greater number of his prisoners were too top-heavy to make
their escape, even if they were inclined to play false with their
indulgent keeper. Next day they were examined again and subjected to
various sentences according to their supposed delinquencies or their
ability to do mischief. The hapless author was condemned to banishment
to a distance of at least ten miles from the lines of the army for his
unholy poetry and--as Major Tyndale actually expressed it--because the
expression of his eye was unprepossessing. Mr. Collis was permitted to
stay at Sandy Hook, but he was obliged to report every morning at 10
o'clock at the major's office. Many and various were the adventures of
this as well as of other parties of Harper's Ferry people who were
scattered about by the chances of the times. A narrative of them would
fill a very large volume, if not a fair-sized library, and it may be
that some of them will appear in future biographical sketches.

On the 7th of February, 1862, two parties of hostile scouts encountered
each other at Harper's Ferry. The federal spies had spent the most of
the night of the 6th at the place and about dawn on the 7th had entered
a skiff to return to Maryland, when they were fired on by some
confederates who were watching for them, and one of them, named Rohr,
was killed. Another, named Rice, threw himself into the river and, by
his dexterity in swimming and by keeping under cover of the skiff,
managed to save his life and escape to Maryland. The confederate scouts
were of Captain Baylor's company, who kept Harper's Ferry in a state of
terror all the winter, entering the town every few nights and doing many
harsh things, without the order or approval of their captain, who,
however, was held responsible for their acts and was treated with a
great deal of unjust severity when in the course of events he became a
prisoner of war.

The killing of Rohr was the cause of another calamity to the hapless
town. Colonel Geary, who was commanding the federal troops at the Point
of Rocks, Sandy Hook, and the bank of the Potomac to Harper's Ferry and
under whom Major Tyndale was acting at Sandy Hook, became highly
incensed at the death of Rohr, who was a favorite scout, and he
immediately sent a detachment to destroy the part of Harper's Ferry in
which the confederates were accustomed to conceal themselves and watch
and annoy the federal soldiers on the Maryland shore. This they
accomplished, ruthlessly destroying with fire Fouke's hotel and all of
the town between the armory and the railroad bridge. Certainly, this
must be considered a wanton destruction of property as the trestle
buttresses or even the ruins of the burnt buildings furnished enough of
shelter for spies or sharpshooters. The demolition of this property was
accomplished under the immediate supervision of Major Tyndale, and here
occur some curious coincidences such as often appear in history and in
ordinary life. It will be remembered that John Brown, on the day of his
capture, prophesied the destruction of Harper's Ferry, to take place in
a short time. It will be recollected, too, that his wife came to
Virginia to get possession of his body after his execution. This same
Hector Tyndale accompanied her from Philadelphia as a protector and
conducted the transportation of the remains from Virginia to New York.
In a little more than two years the town, to all intents and purposes,
was destroyed and the finishing stroke was given to it by this very
Tyndale. Who will say that these were merely coincidences and who will
not rather suspect that there were in these affairs something like a
true spirit of prophecy and a divine retribution. Major Tyndale is now
dead and peace to his soul! At the battle of Antietam he was shot
through the head, but he recovered, at least partially, from his wound
and in some years after he served as mayor of Philadelphia. He was no
friend to the author of these pages, but truth compels a rather
favorable summing up of his character. Like his great namesake of Troy,
he was a sincere patriot and, although he often descended to the
consideration of mere trifles and harassed innocent people with
groundless suspicions, it is believed that he was thoroughly honest and
he certainly had courage enough to do no discredit to his Homeric name.

All that winter--'61-'62--Harper's Ferry presented a scene of the utmost
desolation. All the inhabitants had fled, except a few old people, who
ventured to remain and protect their homes, or who were unable or
unwilling to leave the place and seek new associations. This ill-boding
lull continued--excepting the occasional visits of the Confederates and
the Rohr tragedy with its consequences--until the night of the 22nd of
February, 1862, when General Banks made a forward move in conjunction
with General Shields, who proceeded up the valley from the neighborhood
of Paw Paw, on the line of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, between
Martinsburg and Cumberland. General Banks sent a detachment across the
Potomac at Harper's Ferry in advance of the main body of his troops.
They crossed in skiffs and their object was to lay a pontoon bridge.
With them was a man named James Stedman, a native of the place, and
another named Rice, who acted as guides. The night was stormy, blowing a
gale down the river through the gorges of the Blue Ridge. Stedman, Rice
and five soldiers of the 28th Pennsylvania regiment were in one skiff,
when, through the severity of the gale or mismanagement, the boat was
upset and all were cast into the icy waters. Rice escaped by swimming to
one of the buttresses of the bridge, but Stedman and the five soldiers
were drowned and their bodies were never recovered. This man--Rice--was
the same who had so narrow an escape a few nights before at the same
place, when Rohr was killed. He lived many years after these two close
calls and served as a railroad engineer. One day he fell from his engine
and was cut to pieces by it. It is supposed that his fall was caused by
an apoplectic fit and that he was dead when his body reached the ground.
From the time of this crossing until the retreat of Banks from
Winchester, May 25th, 1862, the town was held by federal troops.
Immediately after the battle of Kernstown, March 23rd, of that year, the
Baltimore and Ohio railroad company took possession of the Winchester
and Potomac railroad and worked it for the government, thus relieving in
some measure the strict blockade the place had endured all the winter.
Perhaps, it would be more correct to say the government seized the road
and employed the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company to run it for them.
The place, of course, now became very important as a base of supplies
for the union troops, and the great number of soldiers who were
stationed there at this time and the many civilian strangers who daily
arrived to visit friends in the army, threw a new life into the town.
Besides, many of the old citizens returned to their homes, now
comparatively safe, and accumulated snug fortunes in providing small
luxuries for the wearied soldiers and their friends. When General Banks
was pursued to the Potomac at Williamsport a portion of the confederate
forces marched towards Harper's Ferry and the union garrison there, with
all the citizens who held to the old government, crossed over to
Maryland. The rebels, however, approached no nearer to the place than
Halltown, about four miles west, on Charlestown road and, in a day or
two, they returned up the valley. All through the spring and summer,
except the few days noted, the town continued to be a base of supplies
for the union forces in that region, and it was notably so while the
armies of Shields, Banks and Freemont were operating against Jackson in
the campaign of Cross-Keys and Port Republic. After the second battle of
Manassas, General Lee decided to invade Maryland, and of course, the
capture of Harper's Ferry became very desirable if not absolutely
necessary to him. It was then under the command of General Miles, a
veteran of the regular United States army. He had a force which,
including a large number under Colonel Tom Ford, of Ohio, posted on the
Maryland Heights, amounted to twelve thousand. While General Lee with
the main body of the confederates crossed at the lower fords of the
Potomac and marched on Frederick City, Generals Jackson and A. P. Hill
attacked Harper's Ferry with their commands. The siege commenced on
Friday, September 12th, 1862, by the confederates opening fire from the
Loudoun Heights with several batteries. The federal guns on the Maryland
Heights replied, but the position of the latter was soon attacked in the
rear by a portion of the rebel army that had got a footing in Maryland
and, of course, the rebels on the Virginia shore profited by the
diversion. The extreme right of the confederates in Maryland and the
left of the federals who were following them up from Washington under
McClellan, approached very near to the northeastern <DW72> of these
heights and Colonel Ford was attacked by a strong body of troops
detached for that purpose. Lee had marched through Frederick City and,
thence, westward towards Hagerstown and Sharpsburg, where he faced about
and made a stand against his pursuers. This placed the confederate right
close to the Maryland Heights as above stated. A desultory though
destructive musketry fire was kept up all through Friday and Saturday,
September 12th and 13th, and thus Colonel Ford was placed, as he
thought, in a hopeless situation. The forces fighting him in the rear
were probably of South Carolina, as many headboards long standing at
graves on the ground they occupied bore the names of soldiers and
regiments from that state. The bombardment from the Loudoun Heights
continued in the meantime until Colonel Ford abandoned his position and
shut himself up in Harper's Ferry. His conduct on this occasion has been
severely criticised and, indeed, it is understood that he was cashiered
for misconduct. His military judges, no doubt, knew more about the
merits of the case than any civilian, but it is certain that many
instances of what appeared to be greater mismanagement occurred during
the war, when little or nothing was said in condemnation of any one and
nobody was punished. The loss of Harper's Ferry was a severe one, and
the popular sentiment demanded a scape-goat. The condemnation of Colonel
Ford was some balm and the unreasoning multitude were appeased. The
abandonment of the Maryland Heights was, of course, a virtual surrender
of Harper's Ferry. On Monday, September 15th, therefore, the national
flag was lowered and the garrison laid down their arms. The
confederates, besides capturing some twelve thousand men, got possession
of a large amount of arms and valuable stores. General Miles was killed
by a shell immediately after his giving the order to surrender and, in
all probability, his death saved him from a fate still worse to a
soldier. Great indignation was felt through the loyal states and in army
circles at what was called his treason or cowardice, and, had he lived,
his conduct, no doubt, would have been the subject of a strict
investigation, as in the case of Colonel Ford, if, indeed, the supposed
misconduct of the latter was not forgotten when the principal was under
indictment. If poor Miles had lived to give =his= version of the matter
the public verdict might have been different in the course of time.
Anyway, he died for his country and let no one belittle his memory.

Before the surrender a small body of federal cavalry made a gallant
charge and succeeded in making their escape, capturing and destroying an
ammunition train belonging to Longstreet's corps of confederates, which
they overtook near the Antietam and effecting a junction with
McClellan's army, then posted on that river. Full justice has never been
done in history to this gallant little body of men--the 8th New York
Cavalry--or to its heroic leader, Colonel B. F. Davis.

After the surrender, General Jackson marched towards Shepherdstown and
arrived at General Lee's position in time to take a part in the great
battle of the 17th of September. He left General A. P. Hill in command
at Harper's Ferry, but he, too, departed next day and, like Jackson,
effected a junction with Lee's main army in time to aid in the great
conflict that was impending.

The direction in which Jackson marched from Harper's Ferry to
Antietam--due north--disposes of a controversy that for years has
exercised the pens of many people eminent in letters. The poet Whittier
makes Jackson march through Frederick City on his way to join Lee, and
the fame of Barbara Fritchie rests on her supposed defying of him and
her shaking the national flag at him, as he passed her house at that
place. Whittier's poem is certainly a spirited one and it is too good to
be without foundation in fact, but is to be feared that so it is. In all
probability General Jackson never set foot in Frederick City. Certainly,
he did not do so in the Antietam campaign, and the flag-shaking that has
immortalized Barbara--was done by the small children of a Mrs. Quantril,
who lived near the Fritchies, and the rebels paid no heed to what was
done by the little tots. How many of the heroes and heroines of history
or song are mythical and how many real deeds of gallantry have been
consigned to oblivion can anyone tell?

The siege and surrender of Harper's Ferry, though important events of
the war were not as disastrous to its people as other occurrences of
less national interest. There was no very hard fighting on the occasion,
considering the numbers engaged and the magnitude of the stake and no
loss of life or property to the citizens of the place. While the siege
was in progress, the battle of South Mountain took place, September
14th, and on the same month was fought the murderous battle of Antietam.
Both fields are near Harper's Ferry and the thunders of the artillery
and the roll of the musketry could be heard distinctly at that place
from those famous battle grounds. At the former engagement the lines
were very long and the left wing of the Federals under General Franklin,
and the right of the confederates under General Howell Cobb, of Georgia,
extended to the very foot of the Maryland Heights. These wings met at
"Crampton's Gap" about five miles from Harper's Ferry and a very fierce
battle was the consequence. This engagement, though properly a part of
that of South Mountain, has been considered a separate affair on account
of the distance from the main armies at which it was fought, and its
extreme severity and it is called the "battle of Crampton's Gap." The
union troops were victorious and they drove the confederates through
"the gap" and some other wild passes in the Blue Ridge near the place.
The battle was fought almost entirely with musketry at close range
which accounts for the great loss of life on both sides. Had General
Miles held out a little longer, the advantage gained at Crampton's Gap
would have enabled General Franklin to come to his relief, and the loss
and disgrace of the surrender might have been prevented.

Both sides claimed a victory at Antietam, but Lee retreated and his
garrison at Harper's Ferry abandoned that place. McClellan did not
pursue, but he concentrated his whole army around Harper's Ferry, where
he remained apparently inactive for nearly two months. The whole
peninsula formed by the Potomac and the Shenandoah from Smallwood's
Ridge to the junction of the rivers, as well as the surrounding heights,
soon became dotted with tents, and at night the two villages and the
neighboring hills were aglow with hundreds of watchfires. From Camp Hill
the ridge that separates the towns of Harper's Ferry and Bolivar the
spectacle was magnificent, especially at night, and a spectator was
forcibly reminded of a fine description of a similar scene in the eighth
book of the Iliad. A hum of voices like that of an immense city or the
hoarse murmur of the great deep arose from the valleys on either side
and filled the air with a confusion of sounds, while to a person of
sensibility it was sad to contemplate how many of this mighty host may
have been fated never to leave the soil of Virginia, but sleep their
long, last sleep far from home and kindred and in a hostile land. The
bands of the various regiments frequently discoursed their martial
strains, and nothing that sight or sound could do to stir the
imagination was wanted. Of course, innumerable instances occurred of
drunken rioting among the soldiers and of outrage on the citizens. A
list of these would fill many volumes each much larger than this little
book, and imagination can picture but faintly the sufferings of a people
exposed helpless to the mercy of an undisciplined armed rabble, for
candor obliges us to thus designate both the armies engaged in this war.
Officers and men on both sides were brave as soldiers can be, but,
except the West Pointers and the graduates of a few military academies,
they knew nothing about the science of war, and it was impossible for an
officer to check the excesses of his command, when many of the privates
under him were, perhaps, his superiors socially in the civil life they
had all left so lately and where all were volunteers fighting for a
principle and not for a soldier's pay. General McClellan proceeded south
in November, leaving a strong garrison at Harper's Ferry, and that place
was occupied by the federals without interruption until the second
invasion of the north by General Lee in June, 1863. All this time, as
all through the war, the roads leading to Leesburg, Winchester,
Martinsburg and other places were infested by guerillas in the service
of the confederates and sometimes by deserters from and camp followers
of the federals, the latter frequently committing outrages that were
charged to the southern men. The most noted of the guerillas was a youth
named John Mobley. He was a son of a woman named Polly Mobley, who lived
on the Loudoun side of the Shenandoah, near Harper's Ferry, and his
reputed father was a man named Sam. Fine, who at one time lived in the
neighborhood, but who moved west long before the war. The son took his
mother's name and it is one that will ever be famous in that region on
account of his exploits. He and his mother were poor and, when a mere
boy, he used to drive a team for a free <DW64> butcher named Joe Hagan,
who lived in Loudoun and used to attend the Harper's Ferry market with
his meat wagon. Mobley was at this time a lubberly, simple-looking lad,
and the pert youths of the town used to tease him. He gave no indication
then of the desperate spirit which he afterwards exhibited. On the
contrary, he appeared to be rather cowardly. When the war broke out,
however, he joined a company of confederate cavalry raised in Loudoun
county, and, although not much above seventeen years of age, he was
detailed by his captain as a scout to watch the federal army around his
native place. Under the circumstances, this was an important and
delicate duty. With this roving commission he, with a few others, ranged
the neighborhood of Niersville and Hillsborough and sometimes he came to
the bank of the Shenandoah at Harper's Ferry. He is said to have kept,
like Dugald Dalgetty, a sharp eye on his private interests, while
obeying to the letter the commands of his superiors. He was a great
terror of sutlers and wagonmasters and he is supposed to have captured
many rich prizes, displaying the most reckless courage and committing
some cold blooded murders. Like many other gentlemen of the road,
however, he had his admirers, and many anecdotes are told of his
forbearance and generosity. On the 5th of April, 1865--four days before
Lee's surrender--his career ended by his being shot to death by a party
of three soldiers of the union army, who had set a trap for him with the
connivance, perhaps, of some neighbors and pretended friends. His body,
with the head perforated in three places by bullets, was thrown, like a
sack of grain, across a horse's back and conveyed in triumph to Harper's
Ferry where it was exposed to public view in front of the headquarters.
The body was almost denuded by relic hunters who, with their jack
knives, cut pieces off his clothes as souvenirs of the war and of the
most noted of the Virginia guerillas.

For some years before the war there resided in the neighborhood of
Harper's Ferry a schoolmaster named Law. He claimed to be a brother of
the famous George Law, of New York. He was an eccentric man, but he
appeared to have a good deal of strength of character, for he always
denounced slavery and advocated its abolition. For the expression of his
sentiments on this subject he was driven out of Harper's Ferry, shortly
after the Brown raid, and narrowly escaped a coat of tar and feathers.
On the breaking out of the war he attached himself to the union army as
a spy, and he was murdered, as it is supposed, by some of Mobley's gang.
One of them related to a friend of the author the manner of Law's death
and it was as follows, according to the confession: Having made him a
prisoner, they took him to a lonely part of the Loudoun Mountain, laid
him flat on his back and fastened him to the ground with withes twisted
'round his limbs and driven into the earth with mauls, and firmly
secured. There he was left to perish of hunger, thirst, cold or any
more speedy death from the fangs of wild animals that Heaven might
mercifully vouchsafe to him. Whether all this is true or not, there is
no doubt of his having been murdered, and considering all the
circumstances, there is reason to believe that the poor fellow was
treated as stated.

When General Lee a second time invaded the north on his disastrous
Gettysburg campaign, again did Harper's Ferry change masters, and, when
he again retreated, the re-occupation of the town by the union army was
a matter of course, and the place then remained in the uninterrupted
possession of the latter for a year.

On the 4th of July, 1864, the federal army was driven out again by a
portion of General Early's forces, who penetrated into Maryland and were
encountered on the 9th of the same month by General Lew Wallace at
Monocacy Junction, about twenty-three miles east of Harper's Ferry. Here
a very sharp engagement took place, when the unionists retreated towards
Washington City and were followed cautiously by Early. On the 4th of
July, while the federal troops were evacuating Harper's Ferry and some
of them were yet at Sandy Hook preparing to retreat farther into
Maryland, one of them, partially intoxicated, went into the store of Mr.
Thomas Egan at the place and offered to buy some tobacco. The proprietor
handed him a plug. The soldier took it but refused to pay for it and, on
Mr. Egan's attempting to recover the tobacco, a scuffle ensued. Mr. Egan
succeeded in ejecting the soldier and he shut the door to keep the
intruder from re-entering. At this moment the proprietor's only child, a
very interesting girl of about thirteen years, noticed that the
soldier's cap was on the floor of the storeroom, it having fallen off
the owner's head in the struggle. She raised a window, held out the cap
and called the soldier to take it, when the ruffian shot her dead with
his carbine, the bullet entering her mouth and coming out at the back of
her head. The lamented Colonel Mulligan of the 23rd Illinois regiment
happened to be passing the scene of the murder at the time and he
ordered the brute to be arrested and confined for trial, but, in the
confusion of the following night, he escaped and was never seen
afterwards in that region. It is said that he deserted his regiment and
joined the United States navy. The mother of the child--a most estimable
lady--soon succumbed to her great sorrow and died broken-hearted. The
father became dissipated and a wanderer until he lost his mind, and it
is supposed that he ended his days in some asylum for the insane. On the
same day a lady from North Mountain was killed, while standing on High
street, Harper's Ferry, at a point exposed to the fire which was kept up
from the Maryland Heights by the federal troops. A <DW52> woman, also,
was killed on Shenandoah street, of the place, and a child was mortally
wounded in Bolivar, and a young lady--Miss Fitzsimmons--seriously
injured at the same time and place. The child was a daughter of Mr.
Thomas Jenkins and Miss Fitzsimmons was his step-daughter. A shell
struck Mr. Jenkins' house, shattering it badly and injuring his family
as noted. The author of this little volume was seated at the time under
the gun that discharged the shell. The cannon was on the fortifications
of the Maryland Heights and the writer could see Mr. Jenkins' house was
struck. He remonstrated in strong language with the gunners for doing
wanton mischief to inoffensive citizens. They took good-naturedly his
indignant protests and ceased firing, which, no doubt, prevented much
harm. The lady killed on High street and the <DW52> woman received
their death wounds from Minnie bullets. A shell from some other battery
penetrated a government house on High street, Harper's Ferry, occupied
by Mr. James McGraw, passed directly through it without injuring any
one, and then penetrated the house of Mr. Alexander Kelly, where it fell
on a bed without exploding. Miss Margaret Kelly, daughter of the
proprietor of the house, was in the room when the unwelcome visitor
intruded and settled down on the bed, but fortunately, she received no
injury beyond a bad fright.

While this skirmish was progressing, a confederate officer of high rank
sauntered into the armory yard, either to watch the enemy on the
opposite side of the river or to take shelter from the heat which was
intense that day. He was alone and excited no particular attention. On
the next day a young girl who was searching for a cow that had strayed,
found his dead body and, as the rebels had retreated on the previous
night, the task of burying him devolved on the citizens. The body was
much swollen and decomposition had made great head-way. So nobody knows
how he came to his death and, indeed, no examination for wounds was
made. He was interred somewhere under the railroad trestling and it
would be worth something handsome to discover the exact spot. After the
war his family offered a large reward for the discovery of his resting
place, but, in the campaign of Sheridan which followed shortly after
this fight cavalry horses were picketed under this trestling and they
tramped the ground so hard and obliterated so completely all traces of
the grave that the search for it, which continued some time, was finally
abandoned. Poor fellow, his fate was a sad one. No doubt, he left a
happy home and loving friends and, now, he moulders in an unknown grave
without even the companionship of the dead.

    "His sword is rust;
    His bones are dust;
    His soul is with the saints, we trust."

At no time during the war was there as deep a gloom on Harper's Ferry as
on that anniversary of the birth of our nation. The people had
entertained the fond hope that the war was nearly over, or, at least,
that the theatre of it was to be moved farther south. Therefore, when,
on the 2nd of July, the sound of cannon was heard in the direction of
Martinsburg, utter despair appeared to take possession of all hearts at
Harper's Ferry. The battle sounds were from a heavy skirmish between a
part of Early's troops and Colonel Mulligan's Irish regiment--the 23rd
Illinois--at Leetown, about midway between Martinsburg and Harper's
Ferry. It may interest the reader to know that Leetown took its name
from the famous General Charles Lee of unenviable reputation in the war
of our Revolution. Here it was he buried himself in a morose solitude
after his quarrel with General Washington and the cabin which he
inhabited, with only his dogs for company, is still standing and
occupied by a family. The firing was the first intimation the people of
Harper's Ferry had of approaching danger. Mulligan, although greatly
outnumbered by the enemy, succeeded in checking their course for a
while, and he gave the garrison and people of that place time to prepare
for defense or retreat. However, as the darkest hour comes immediately
before the dawn, so was this gloomy time the precursor of, at least,
comparative tranquility. Although the people were obliged to fly on this
occasion, as usual, they were not again driven from their homes, and,
although peace was not restored to the whole country for many months
after this, Harper's Ferry was happily exempted from any more of its
accustomed calamitous evacuations.

The writer has adverted to the want of discipline in both the armies
that in this war exhibited so much gallantry and, as an evidence of this
he will relate an incident that occurred on Maryland Heights while the
federal army was yet defending Harper's Ferry on that memorable Fourth
of July. It will be remembered that the State of Ohio a short time
before had furnished to the government a force called "the Hundred-Day
Men." A portion of these were doing duty on the Maryland Heights on this
occasion. They were brave enough but, as the following will show, they
had little or no conception of the military appliances which they were
expected to use with some degree of intelligence. A company of them were
preparing dinner and, not having anything else convenient on which to
build their fire, they procured from an ammunition wagon several large
shells on which they piled their wood which was soon ablaze. 'Round the
fire they all squatted, each intent on watching his kettle or saucepan.
Soon a terrific explosion shook the surrounding hills, sending all the
culinary utensils flying over the tree tops and, unfortunately, killing
or wounding nearly every man of the group. This is but one of many
instances seen during the war of incredible carelessness produced by the
excitement of the times and a lack of military training in the
soldiers. While "the hundred-day men" were stationed near Harper's Ferry
many yarns were spun at their expense, such as the following: One of
them, it is said, presented himself on a certain occasion to the
commander of the post, a grim old warrior, who had seen a hundred
battles, and who had the reputation of being a martinet. On being asked
what he wanted, the soldier said that he had a complaint to make of the
commissary who had not yet furnished butter or milk for the company
mess. The wrath of the old campaigner is said to have been appalling
when he heard this, and it is narrated that about this time a figure was
seen to retreat with precipitation from the general's tent, with a boot
in close proximity to its seat of honor.

Another party of the same corps was stationed at Kearneysville, ten
miles west of Harper's Ferry, for the protection of the Baltimore and
Ohio railroad at that point. These hearing of a much superior force of
the enemy approaching to destroy the road and kill or capture them,
wisely resolved to retreat to Harper's Ferry without waiting orders from
their superiors. A freight car happened to be at the time on the
sidetrack near, and the thought struck them that they could load all
their "traps" into this and push it to their destination. Kearneysville
is situated on the very top of a ridge, halfway between Harper's Ferry
and Martinsburg, and there is a very steep grade of ten miles in length
either way from these points--the summit being, as noted, at
Kearneysville. This the Ohio men did not know and it is possible that
they had never heard of the existence of grades on surfaces apparently
so level as railroads. Having procured a switch key, they transferred
the car to the main track, and having loaded on it all their
paraphernalia, they proceeded to push the car towards Harper's Ferry. At
first it was moved with some difficulty, but soon they discovered that
it gradually attained speed and that, after a little time, it rolled
along without the necessity for any exertion in pushing. Supposing,
perhaps, that some kind fairy had greased the track for them, they felt
overjoyed and, giving the car a few vigorous pushes, they all jumped
aboard and "let her slide." Soon, however, the rate of travel increased,
so as to give them some uneasiness and, after their having accomplished
a mile or two, the speed was terrific and increasing every moment.
Knowing little about railroading they did not understand the use of the
car-brake, which would have done something towards reducing their
dangerous rate of locomotion. On the car shot like a meteor, and the
long hair of the western men streamed behind like the tail of a comet,
as would also their coat tails, if their uniforms had any such
appendages. The astonished track hands along the road fled in dismay
from the apparition and well might the knowing ones among them feel
alarm as the westward bound mail train was then due on the same track on
which the car was rushing in an opposite direction at far more than
legitimate railroad speed. Onward and faster the Ohio men flew 'round
the innumerable curves of the road in that neighborhood until to the
amazement of Mr. Donohoo, the railroad agent at Harper's Ferry, the car
came in sight of his station. Fortunately, the mail train had been
detained for some reason by order of Mr. Donohoo, and thus the Ohio men
and the passengers on board the train were saved from the consequences
of a collision which, under the circumstances, would have been of the
most disastrous kind. When the car came to the level a short distance
above Harper's Ferry, its rate of travel gradually declined and it
stopped of itself before reaching the passenger train, the engineer of
which had presence of mind to back his train far enough to the east to
keep out of the way until the momentum of the engineless car had
expended itself beyond the incline. The soldiers half dead with fright,
jumped off the car with all possible speed, but they were put in irons
immediately by order of the commander at Harper's Ferry for disobedience
of orders with the aggravation of the danger to which they had exposed
the passenger train. The Ohio men were very gallant soldiers, however,
and that more than compensated for their inexperience.

After the failure of the confederates in their attempt on Washington
City, and their retreat into Virginia again and for the last time did
the federal troops get possession of Harper's Ferry. After the battle of
Monocacy General Sheridan was appointed to command in the Valley of
Virginia, and his brilliant and successive victories over Early around
Winchester saved the whole of the lower valley, henceforth from its
accustomed alternation of masters.

There was then residing near Harper's Ferry a German known as "Dutch
George," his real name being George Hartman. He was a bachelor and he
worked among the farmers of the neighborhood with whom he was deservedly
popular for his harmless simplicity of character and his efficiency as a
farm-help. During the severe conscription George entered the confederate
army as a substitute for one of his employers and his achievements in
the war are thus summed up. After the last retreat of Early, George and
many of the young men of the neighborhood who were serving in the
confederate army, and who had taken advantage of the forward movement of
their troops to visit their homes, remained on furlough, trusting for
concealment to their knowledge of the locality and the sympathy of all
their neighbors with their cause. One day they got information that a
force of their enemies was approaching and, fearing that their houses
would be searched for them, they all assembled in a deserted
blacksmith's shop where the enemy would suspect their being concealed.
As an additional precaution, they threw out pickets to watch the motions
of the enemy, and George was detailed for this duty. He took post in a
fence corner, but he kept a poor lookout and was surprised and taken
prisoner by a squad of the enemy that had stolen a march on him. "By
damn," said George to his captors, "you did dat wery vel, but you ain't
schmart enough to find de boys in de blackschmidt shop." Of course, "a
nod was as good as a wink" to the shrewd "Yankees," and they surrounded
the shop and made prisoners of the whole party, greatly to the
astonishment of George, who never could be made to understand by what
intuition the "Yankees" discovered "de boys in de blackschmidt's shop."
Poor George is now dead, and it is only fair to his memory to say that
he was not suspected of cowardice or treachery. He stood well with his
comrades in regard to courage and loyalty, and it is possible that the
tale was invented or greatly exaggerated by the mischievous youngsters
of the neighborhood to tease the poor fellow.

During the winter of 1864-65 several military executions took place at
Harper's Ferry and, indeed, there is no phase of war that was not
experienced at some time by its people. A man known as "Billy, the
Frenchman" was executed by hanging on the 2nd day of December, the fifth
anniversary of John Brown's death. His proper name was William Loge. He
was a native of France and was but a short time in this country. He
enlisted in a New York regiment and, while he was stationed at
Berlin--now Brunswick--on the Maryland side of the Potomac, he deserted
and, crossing over to Virginia, he attached himself to Mobley's gang and
became a terror to the people of Loudoun--rebel as well as loyal. He was
a young man of an attractive appearance and great physical strength, as
well as of iron nerve. After marauding successfully for many months he
was made prisoner by federal scouts, near Johnson's stillhouse--the
scene of the pugilistic encounter between Yankee Sullivan and Ben
Caunt--and taken to Harper's Ferry, where he was executed as soon as the
formalities of a court martial could be complied with. He displayed the
utmost courage on the scaffold and many pitied him on this account, as
well as for the great brutality with which the execution was conducted.
The provost was Major Pratt of the gallant 34th Massachusetts regiment,
a very kindhearted man, but others who acted under him displayed the
greatest cruelty and barbarity. On the whole it was the most sickening
affair witnessed at the place during the war.

On another occasion two deserters were taken out for execution by
shooting. The Reverend Father Fitzgibbon, a Catholic priest, chaplain to
one of the regiments then at the place, took an interest in them and,
although they did not belong to his communion, he volunteered his
spiritual aid for the occasion. Father Fitzgibbon had officiated in the
ministry years before at Springfield, Illinois, and had become well
acquainted with Mr. Lincoln, then a practising lawyer at that place. It
occurred to the good priest, therefore, to use his influence with the
President for the pardon of the condemned men, or a commutation of their
sentence. He telegraphed his request to Mr. Lincoln. No reply came until
the hour appointed for the execution had actually passed. Major Pratt,
with his usual kindheartedness, delayed the catastrophe as long as he
could do so consistently in view of his duty. At length the condemned
men were placed on their knees and a file of soldiers held their guns
ready to fire at the command of the provost, when a horseman was seen
riding furiously from the direction of the telegraph office and it was
hoped that he might be the bearer of some message of mercy. True enough,
the benevolent Lincoln had pardoned them, and there was not one in the
crowd of spectators who did not feel relieved on hearing the good news,
and many a rough cheek was wet with tears. It will be readily believed
that the prisoners participated largely in the joy of the occasion.
There is an old fatalistic saying that "every wight has got his weird,"
or that every man's career on earth and the manner of his death are
predestined. This may or may not be true, but many things occur to give
at least plausibility to the belief. One of these men thus rescued from
the very jaws of death, lost his life some twenty years afterward by
being shot by a woman whom he had grossly insulted with improper
proposals, and to whom he was about to offer personal violence. The
"weird," if there is such a thing, missed him at Harper's Ferry, but
overtook him some thirty miles farther up the Potomac. The author will
give another instance of apparent fatality. Like the sentimental Sterne,
he loves philosophical digressions which, perhaps, the reader may
pardon. Besides, the occurrence took place near enough to Harper's Ferry
to give it some little claim on the chronicles of that neighborhood. In
the confederate army during the civil war was the scion of a very
respectable house in the lower valley of Virginia. Like other young men,
no doubt, he felt that in him was the making of a hero but, in his first
battle, he discovered that he had missed his vocation. In his second and
third battles his fears were confirmed and, still worse, his comrades
suspected the truth. He held on to the colors, however, but, after a few
more experiences, he ever sought some excuse for absence from his post
in time of battle, until his example was considered detrimental to the
service, and by a tacit connivance he was allowed to quit the army and
return home. It often happened that scouting parties of the opposite
sides would encounter one another near his home and so great was his
fear of death that on these occasions he would hide himself in some
bullet-proof retreat. Once, a skirmish took place nearly a mile from his
home and he thought he could view it safely at that distance. He
however, took the precaution of hiding in some high grass while looking
at the encounter. All in vain was his care, for a stray bullet found him
and he received a mortal wound.

An understanding may be got of the war experience of Harper's Ferry from
the fact that the railroad bridge at the place was destroyed and rebuilt
nine times from June, 1861, to the surrender of General Lee at
Appomattox in April, 1865. Mr. Thomas N. Heskett, now dead, assistant
master of road for the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company, every time
superintended its construction, assisted by Milton and Oliver Kemp, his
foremen, and it very creditable to these gentlemen that, notwithstanding
the many disadvantages under which they labored, and the hurry with
which they were obliged to perform the work of reconstruction, no
accident occurred to any of the thousands of railroad and wagon trains
that passed over it during these years, which could be traced to any
defect in the bridge itself, or the track laid on it.

At every evacuation of the place the wildest excitement pervaded the
town, and scenes of terror were frequently presented, mingled with
ludicrous occurrences. Few, however, could at the time command
equanimity enough to appreciate the laughter-moving side of those
pictures and see where the joke came in. A few days prior to a retreat
a vague rumor of approaching danger could be heard and immediate
preparations would be put on foot for a "skedaddle." There were in the
town many sympathizers with the rebellion, especially among the fair
sex. These were in constant communication with the insurgents, who kept
them informed of what was going on within the confederate lines, in
return for the news with which they were supplied of the doings of the
union troops. While, at heart, thoroughly loyal to the rebel cause, the
women of southern proclivities could never keep their information
concerning the movements of the confederates entirely secret. The love
of talk and the pride in knowing more than their neighbors always
betrayed them into giving some hints of what was impending and, in
consequence, the townspeople were but seldom taken by surprise. As the
enemy approached, the excitement would increase and, finally, a motley
crowd of fugitives of every shade of color could be seen tramping along
the turnpike to Frederick City, ankle deep in mud or enveloped in a
cloud of dust and stewing with heat, according to the season. Ideal
socialism existed among them for the time being and a practical
illustration of the equality of mankind was frequently exhibited when a
darkey of the blackest shade of color, with a wallet well supplied with
hard tack and bologna sausages, or a bottle of whiskey, commanded more
consideration than the purest Caucasian, though he could trace his
lineage to the Crusades or the Norman conquest, if deficient in his
commissariat. Uncle Jake Leilic's hotel in Frederick City was the
headquarters of the fugitive Harper's Ferry people on these occasions,
and assembled there, they contrived to receive intelligence about the
movements of the rebels, until the danger had passed away, and the
confederates had retreated up the valley. Mr. Leilic deserved well of
many refugees whose pecuniary resources became exhausted while they were
away from home, and he is remembered by many with gratitude. He was a
good, honest, kindhearted, though blunt German--a native of Hesse
Darmstadt. He has been dead many years and few there are to fill his
place in the estimation of his surviving friends. The retreats were
called "skedaddles," a term invented at the time by some wag. The
originator in all probability was not aware that a similar word is used
by Homer to express the same idea and, if at any time, the inventor
should chance to read these pages, or should learn by any other means of
the coincidence, the information, no doubt, will afford him the
liveliest satisfaction. It must be confessed, however, that the
termination "daddle" is not homeric, as it is lacking in dignity and
such as would not be tolerated for a moment in the grand old language in
which the great bard wrote his sonorous hexameters. A correction in the
next edition is, therefore, respectfully suggested.

After the surrender of General Lee a garrison was left at Harper's
Ferry, and for more than a year after the restoration of peace were the
ear-piercing notes of the fife and the boom of the drum heard on the
streets of that place. It may be said with truth that no spot in the
United States experienced more of the horrors of the war than that
village. The first act of the great tragedy--the Brown raid--was enacted
there and, at no time until the curtain fell, was Harper's Ferry
entirely unconnected with the performance. Even the cessation of
military operations was far from restoring the tranquility that used to
reign in this once prosperous and happy little community. In the spring
and summer of 1865 many families that had cast their lots with the
confederacy returned to the place to find their homes occupied by
tenants to whom the national government had rented them as being in a
condition of semi-confiscation. Some found their houses occupied by mere
squatters who had seized them as so much Treasure Trove, and who
impudently asserted their superior right to the property on the score of
loyalty, although the government had given no sanction to their
occupancy, and was simply passive with regard to the ownership. General
Egan, a gallant soldier of the State of New York, was for a short time,
in the summer of that year, in command of the post and, filled with pity
for the forlorn condition of the hapless owners and indignation at the
effrontery of the intruders, he, regardless of technicalities, cleared
many of the houses of the riff-raff that had unjustly settled in them
and restored them to the former and real proprietors. Unfortunately,
this generous, brave and impulsive soldier was moved to some other
command, before his noble work of restoration was completed. We have
never been able to fully ascertain the identity of this gallant soldier
with the General Egan so prominent in the late war with Spain, but
assuredly our people at Harper's Ferry owe him a heavy debt of
gratitude.

The new State of West Virginia had been created during the war, and
Harper's Ferry is the eastern extremity of that state. The then dominant
political faction, as usual, persecuted those, who in their day, were so
intolerant, and harsh election and school laws were enacted for the
purpose of rendering the defeated party incapable of ever again
asserting itself. During this state of affairs the writer was elected
superintendent of free schools, and never will he forget the
perplexities imposed on him by the office. It was his bounden duty to
establish schools all over the county, but it was equally incumbent on
him by law to see that no teacher was employed for any of the public
schools who refused to take an iron-clad oath setting forth his or her
unfaltering love for the union and hatred for its enemies, and also,
that the applicant for the place of teacher had never given aid in any
way to the late rebels. When it is considered that ninety-nine in every
hundred of the inhabitants of the county had been in active sympathy
with the rebellion, it will be evident that the school superintendent's
only way to escape a dilemma was to send to the loyal states for
teachers. Again, the salaries paid were too small to tempt people from
the north to reside in a hostile land to train pupils rendered
refractory by the bad examples of the war and imbued by their parents
with a hatred for "Yankees" as all northern people were styled. Finally,
the writer, finding it impossible to comply with the letter of an absurd
and contradictory law, resolved on following the spirit and underlying
principle of all public school legislation, and he took on himself to
dispense with all test oaths and employ teachers without reference to
their politics. His action in the matter brought him very near to
impeachment, but he brazened it out until the expiration of his term.
Again, a registration law then enacted, depriving sympathizers with the
south of the right to vote at elections, put into the power of county
boards to allow or refuse this right at their own sweet wills. Of
course, the boards were composed of "loyal men" and it is easy to
imagine how petty spite or interest in the election of some candidate
for office too often swayed the judges. Those whose property had been
injured by the rebels sought recompense by suing before the courts the
officers whose men had inflicted the damage, and all these causes, with
many others, combined to keep the town and neighborhood in a ferment for
several years, so that many thought that they had gained but little by
the cessation of actual warfare. Time, however, has happily cured the
wounds, though the scars will ever remain, and it is confidently hoped
that the historic village--the theme of this little book will flourish
again some day--the better, perhaps, for the fiery ordeal through which
it has passed--so mote it be!

This concludes an imperfect account of Harper's Ferry in the war, and
the writer is impelled to comment on a fact which, although it may have
been accidental, appears to have a strange significance for a reflecting
mind. Of all the government buildings in the armory inclosure before the
war, the only one that escaped destruction in that fearful struggle was
John Brown's famous engine-house or fort. Of the occurrence that gave
fame to that little building there can be but one opinion from a legal
standpoint--that it was a violation of law for which the aggressors paid
a just penalty, if we consider obedience to human enactments without
reference to the moral code as obligatory on man. On the other hand, it
must be admitted that slavery was not only an evil that affected
perniciously every member of any community in which it existed, but an
anomaly in the model republic of modern times and this civilized
century. Who knows then by what providential interference an
enthusiastic fanatic may have been selected as an instrument in removing
that anomalous stain of slavery from the state that boasts of having
given birth to Washington and of containing his ashes, and from this
whole nation that now, at least, can truly call itself the Land of the
Free! The preservation of this little building was certainly remarkable
and, although the present owners of the old armory property have
sold--unfortunately, it is thought by many--this interesting little
relic of stirring times, and every brick of it has been conveyed away by
Chicago speculators, the actions of man do not lessen the significance
of the protection accorded to it by Providence from the day when the
first active protest against the great wrong of slavery was uttered in
fire from its door, until that sin was finally banished from the land.
The writer has no intention to dictate to property owners what they
ought to do with what belongs to them justly, but he cannot help heaving
a sigh for this great sacrifice of sentiment, as well as for the
material loss of a great attraction that brought hundreds of people
every year to the place to see a curiosity, and incidentally and
necessarily, to leave some money behind when they departed. But the site
is there yet and it takes but a slight stretch of imagination to
prophesy that it will be the Mecca to which many a pilgrim of this land
and of other lands will journey in future times as to a shrine
consecrated to liberty. Some seventy-five miles farther down the Potomac
is another shrine--the grave of Washington--and it is not his countrymen
alone who bare their heads in honor of the great man who rests in the
consecrated ground. From all civilized lands they come to venerate, and
even his ancient foes have been known to lower the haughty flag of their
country in his honor. They who come to Mount Vernon do not ask how much
right the British or the Americans had on their respective sides in the
war of the Revolution. They come to honor the heroic man who did so much
for humanity in obedience to his conscience and the same motive will
bring many to the site of the famous engine house--people who will not
take the trouble to examine the fine-spun sophistries and subtleties we
used to hear from politicians before the war, but will honor and revere
bona-fide honesty and the heroism that upholds the right and combats
wrong, even to the death, despite of legal quibbles. Many will consider
it sacrilege to compare George Washington with John Brown, but all must
admit that what the former began the latter completed or, at least, put
in the way of completion by Abraham Lincoln. All three deserve
imperishable monuments for all of them did the best according to their
light for the cause of humanity, and "Angels could no more." In 1859 it
was a high crime against the laws of Virginia and, we believe, of other
states, to teach a man of color the alphabet. In 1866, within a quarter
of a mile of John Brown's fort, was established "Storer College" for the
education of the ex-slaves and their descendants. Mistaken, fanatical,
or criminal as John Brown may have been, if we judge him by the results
of his actions at Harper's Ferry, we will not be considered
unreasonable, we hope, when we point to this flourishing seat of
learning to justify a great deal of favorable consideration for him by
posterity. He is getting it already, even in the life-time of many who
clamored for his blood, and the heroic old confederate soldiers are not
behind in doing honor to his undoubted courage and honesty. Brave men
will ever honor the brave.

"Exegi monumentum aere perennius" may well be inscribed on the graves or
monuments of those three extraordinary men. No one now grudges it to
Washington or Lincoln, and the day will be when all will concede the
right to John Brown as well. "Tempora mutantur, nos et, mutamur in
illis."




CHAPTER VI.

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 <DW52> 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 <DW52> 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 <DW52> 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.

Worn out, scared and disconsolate, the hapless Livingstone walked down
to the road that passed his house, the highway before referred to, and
was immediately greeted by a rough wagoner, who had stopped his team and
who wanted to know why the devil Livingstone had stretched a rope across
the highway and fastened it to a tree on either side, so as to impede
travel. Livingstone knew that there were trees, as the wagoner said, on
both sides of the road, but he saw no rope and wondered what the
apparently drunken teamster meant by accusing him of such an absurd
thing. The driver angrily demanded that the obstruction be removed at
once and Livingstone disdained to make any reply, the infuriated
teamster drew a knife and slashed at the rope, but the blade met with no
resistance and, while the obstruction was palpable to his eye, it was
but an airy nothing to his touch. It was now the wagoner's turn to be
amazed. He knew not whether to offer an apology or not and, while he was
still pondering the matter, another team arrived and its driver went
through the same performance as the other, with the same result. At
length, Livingstone mildly suggested that they should drive on,
regardless of the intangible rope and so they did and passed along
without difficulty, attributing their delusion, no doubt, to the bad
whiskey of the neighborhood. Soon, however, other teams arrived and
again the spectre rope was in the way and again were repeated the
perplexity and the profanity of the first encounter. Every new arrival
brought the luckless Livingstone a fresh cursing, and so it was kept up
for several weeks. In the course of time, the demon, now acknowledged to
be around the place, adopted a new method of annoyance. A sharp,
clipping noise, as if from a pair of invisible shears, was heard all
through and around the house and, worse yet, all the clothes of the
family, their table cloths and bed coverings were cut and gashed, the
slits being all in the shape of a crescent. Of course, the news of these
unearthly doings soon spread, and people from all directions crowded to
see and hear what was going on. There are still preserved in some
families pocket-handkerchiefs that were folded in the pockets of their
owners when they visited the place, but, yet, were cut and marked in his
peculiar way by the demon of the scissors that kept up his "clip-clip"
around them while they were condoling with the afflicted family. One
lady visitor was complimenting Mrs. Livingstone on a fine flock of ducks
that were waddling through her yard on their way, perhaps, to the
neighboring Opequon, when "clip-clip" went the uncanny and invisible
shears and one after another the ducks were all cleanly decapitated in
broad daylight before the very eyes of the ladies and many other
witnesses.

At that time there lived in Middleway a German tailor, who, though fully
imbued with the mysticism of his native country, yet regarded with
contempt all vulgar superstitions, or what he considered to be such. He
boasted that he would stay all night alone in the house supposed to be
haunted and that, if he had time enough to spare for the purpose, he
could expose the imposture of the wizard clipping. He had just finished
a suit of broad cloth for a neighboring planter and had made up the
clothes in a neat package, when on his way to deliver them he passed
Livingstone's house, grinning at the folly of his neighbors in believing
that the place was tenanted by an evil spirit. "Clip-clip" went the
terrible scissors around the ears of the German who, in the plenitude of
his incredulity, invited the author of the sounds to "go for damn." He
proceeded to the house of his employer, opened his bundle with
professional confidence and pride, to exhibit his model suit, when, lo!
and behold! he found the clothes full of the crescent shaped slits and
utterly ruined.

The excitement continued to spread and far and near extended the fame of
"Wizard Clip." One night a party of youngsters of both sexes assembled
at the house for a frolic, got up by the young men of the neighborhood,
who desired to show to the world and especially to their sweethearts
that =they= were not afraid, whoever else might be so, and curiosity led
many young ladies to the scene, in spite of the terrors of the place.
They were, perhaps, desirous to test the courage of their lovers, and
trusted for protection to the big crowd in attendance. One rough,
blustering fellow came all the way from Winchester, carrying his rifle.
He was courting a girl of the neighborhood of Livingstone's place, and
he determined to show off to the best possible advantage. Things
proceeded smoothly for awhile, and the young people were engaged in a
dance when, suddenly, "clip-clip" went the goblin shears, and the
Winchester hero felt something flap against the calves of his legs. He
reached down to investigate and found, to his consternation, that the
most important part of his nether garment had been cut loose from the
waist band and that there was nothing left for him to do but sit down
and keep on sitting 'till the festivities were over. His condition soon
became known to the others and, great as the terrors of the situation
were, nothing could prevent the company from tittering, until the
hapless hero found his plight so painful that he resolved to leave the
house, which, for the sake of delicacy, he was obliged to do by backing
to the door, while the ladies coyly looked in another direction.
Numberless are the tales related of the queer doings of the demon with
his invisible and diabolical scissors. Poor Livingstone lost heart and
even his wife's masculine courage gave way. The whole neighboring
country was, of course, intensely excited. One night Livingstone had a
dream. He thought he was at the foot of a hill on the top of which was a
man dressed in sacerdotal garments and appearing to be engaged in some
religious ceremony. While looking towards this strange man, the
afflicted dreamer became aware of the presence with him of some
disembodied spirit that whispered to him that the man in the priestly
garb could relieve him from his great trouble. He awoke and immediately
formed the resolution to appeal to some minister of the gospel to
exorcise his tormentor--the fiend of the "clip." He applied to his own
pastor, a Lutheran preacher who, of course, had heard of the affair, as
had everybody in the state. To please Livingstone, the reverend
gentleman visited the haunted house, but he experienced a reception so
hot that he concluded not to try issues any more with so potent a
spirit, and he left without accomplishing anything. Livingstone now
remembered that the minister of his vision wore priestly vestments and,
on the failure of his own pastor, he concluded that the party to help
him must be one who was usually arrayed with such adjuncts in the
performance of his rites. The Catholic, or perhaps the Protestant
Episcopal must, therefore, be the denomination for him to seek aid from,
and he found out from the Minghinis and the McSherrys that a certain
Father Cahill, who used robes such as he had seen in the dream, would,
on a certain day, be at Shepherdstown, about ten miles away, to hold
Catholic service. They promised Livingstone an introduction to the
priest, and on the day specified they accompanied their unhappy neighbor
to the church meeting. At the first sight, Livingstone recognized in
Father Cahill the minister he had seen in the dream, and falling on his
knees and with tears streaming down his cheeks, begged to be relieved
from the thralldom of the evil one. Having been questioned by the
priest, he gave the whole history, including the unkindness to the
stranger guest. Father Cahill, who was a jovial, big-fisted Irishman,
alive as the Lutheran minister had been, to the absurdity of the whole
affair, tried to convince the sufferer that he was merely the victim of
some malicious practical jokers of his neighborhood. It was all in vain,
however, to try to dispel Livingstone's fears, and for sheer pity and,
perhaps, Irishman-like, not being averse to a shindy even with the devil
himself, the good father consented to accompany Livingstone home, and do
all he could to relieve him. At that time a Catholic priest was
something heard of with awe and superstitious dread in Virginia, but
very rarely seen there, and it is likely that the perpetrators of the
outrage on the hapless family were themselves victims of an unreasonable
fear of something that was formidable only from its rarity and from
attributes that existed only in their own ignorant and untrained
imaginations. Anyway, it is recorded that never after the visit of
Father Cahill were the diabolical scissors heard, and from that time
peace again reigned in the Livingstone household, but the name of
"Wizard Clip" still clings to the village and, it is to be hoped, that
the legend will not be allowed to die out for, laugh as we may at those
old time tales, they have a charm for even the most prosaic and
skeptical. John Brown's fort is lost, forever, to Virginia, but it is a
matter for thankfulness that, while brick and mortar can be disposed of
to satisfy the love of gain, the traditions of a people cannot be
converted into money and that sentiment cannot be sold by the square
foot. Land-marks are more easily destroyed than folklore.

In gratitude to Father Cahill, Livingstone before his death deeded to
the Catholic church thirty-four acres of land, and this tract is what
has ever since been named "The Priest's Field." The clergy of that
faith, however, renounce all claim to the place because, no doubt, they
felt that nothing in the spiritual ministration of Father Cahill
contributed or was intended by him to contribute towards the object
Livingstone had in view--the expulsion of a veritable demon. Father
Cahill, like the Lutheran minister, went to the house merely as a friend
and not in the character of an exorciser of a real spirit and, if the
rascals who so cruelly tormented their harmless neighbor were more
afraid of the priest than of the other minister, with whom they were no
doubt familiar, it was no reason why a claim should be set up by the
former of superior influence with Heaven. Mr. McSherry and Mr. Minghini
were made trustees of the property, but by common consent, the land was
left with the Minghinis and it is now theirs by prescription, perhaps.
In the county clerk's office in Charlestown, Jefferson county, West
Virginia, can be seen the deed made by Livingstone and wife to Denis
Cahill, the supposed exorciser of the fiend. It will be found in Book
No. 1 of the County Records, and it conveys the title to thirty-four
acres of land--"The Priest's Field"--to Father Cahill and his
successors. Our esteemed friend Clerk Alexander will be glad to show it
to anyone curious to see it. The deed is dated February 21st, 1802.

Within about eight miles of Harper's Ferry is a sleepy hamlet which has
quite a history in connection with several prominent men of the
Revolution. It is called Leetown, and it has been heretofore mentioned
in this history as the scene of a brisk skirmish in the war of the
rebellion. As before noted in this book, it got its name from General
Charles Lee who, after the censures incurred by him for his conduct at
the battle of Monmouth, buried himself here in gloomy seclusion. Very
near this village is also a house occupied by General Horatio Gates, of
more honorable fame in our war for independence, and still another
revolutionary general--Darke--lived in the immediate neighborhood of
the place. So, then, a sauntering tourist might spend a little time
pleasantly enough in visiting the neighborhood. It is but a few minutes'
drive from "Wizard Clip" and a curiosity seeker might easily take in
many noteworthy sights in the course of a day's jaunt from Harper's
Ferry. About five miles north of Leetown and in the immediate
neighborhood of the battlefield of Antietam, is Shepherdstown, which is,
or at least ought to be known to fame, as the home of James Rumsey who,
it has been pretty clearly proven, was the first to apply steam power to
purposes of navigation. On the Potomac, at Shepherdstown or Mecklenburg,
as it was then called, was the first experiment made of propelling a
boat by steam power, and the trial was made with success by Rumsey. In
his life-time he was regarded by his acquaintances as a visionary, if
not a decided maniac, but time has vindicated him, although the honor of
the invention has been generally assumed to belong to others. There can
be but little doubt that Rumsey anticipated all the other claimants for
the fame of the invention, although with them, too, it may be said to be
original, as they probably knew nothing of Rumsey or what he had
accomplished. Shepherdstown has a war record, also, for in a day or two
after the battle of Antietam, a detachment of federal troops having
crossed the Potomac into Virginia at the ford near the town, they were
badly defeated by a force of the rebel army that attacked them
unexpectedly.

Some ten or twelve years ago, a stranger arrived at Harper's Ferry and,
without letting any one know what his business was, he purchased a pick
and shovel, hired a horse and buggy, and drove up the Potomac taking the
implements with him. He proceeded towards Shepherdstown, appearing to be
very familiar with the road. When he arrived within a mile of the latter
place, he halted, tied his horse to something available and looked
around inquiringly. It took him but a short time to find what he wanted,
for in a few minutes he approached a large tree and plied vigorously his
pick and then his shovel around the roots. His labor was not in vain,
for soon he exposed to view a fair sized box which he immediately
transferred to the buggy, and at once returned to Harper's Ferry,
without deigning to satisfy the curiosity of some parties who were
attracted to the spot by the sight of him at work. It is generally
supposed that he himself had buried a considerable treasure at the place
while he was hard pressed by enemies at some time while the late war was
in progress, and that, deeming it safe, and not being much in want of
money, he had left it in its concealment for nearly thirty years. Some
advanced the dream theory--that, in his sleep he had a vision of the
buried treasure, but the stranger kept his own counsel and departed on
the next railroad train for parts unknown.




THE ENCHANTER'S WHEEL.


Starting from the railroad bridge at Harper's Ferry and running
northwest, with the railroad track for six miles to Duffield's Station,
is a region that has ever been the home of wizards, witches and all
kinds of adepts in occult lore, besides being a favorite resting place
for gypsy caravans. The construction of the railroad many years ago was
the first interruption to the dreams of magic, and, then, the civil war,
with its very practical ideas and, above all, perhaps, the subsequent
introduction of free schools have completed the delivery of the worthy
inhabitants from the very galling yoke of many professors of the black
art--African and Caucasian--who profited in money and reputation by the
fears they excited and the fees they received for cures or immunity. In
justice, it must be stated that the whites, mostly of German origin,
were generally of a benevolent character and that the practice of their
art was always directed to counteract the malevolence of the <DW64>s who
seldom devoted their mystic knowledge to any good purpose, especially
where any member of their own race was concerned. They always appeared
to have an instinctive dread of the superior race and were shy of
practising on the white man, unless under very strong temptation. The
gypsies alone keep alive the old order of things, appearing to have
nobody to punish and every one to reward with a rich wife or a gallant
husband for the trifle of crossing the sibyl's palm with a piece of
silver. Indeed, they are not charged with molesting the person or
property of any one. On the contrary, they are ever invoking the
blessings of Venus, on the conditions above mentioned. Time has in no
way changed their habits.

Two generations ago great was the fame of the professors--white and
black--but now it is difficult to get any one of either color, unless
some octogenarian, to relate what used to occur in the olden times. They
appear to be afraid of the imputation of superstition. In this way many
interesting and even poetic legends are likely to be lost.

Of the white seers the most renowned was the miller--John Peacher--a
Pennsylvania Dutchman. He was a man of excellent reputation, and the
only people who had any complaint to make of him were the evil doers,
especially the thieves. It was useless for a thief to steal anything
from John Peacher, for it had to be returned, and by the culprit
himself, in broad daylight. Peacher's friends, too, if they reported to
him any loss were merely told to wait a little for the stolen article.
So, neither Peacher nor his friends ever complained to a law officer of
any losses, feeling very certain that the missing would return. In
consequence, it was no unusual sight to see seated on a fence near
Peacher's mill, or the house of one of the miller's neighbors, a man,
nearly always a <DW64>, with a bundle of some kind tied up to suit the
contents. There the visitor sat until late evening, if not asked to get
off the fence and tell his business. Even then, it was with extreme
difficulty that he could get off his perch, and some were known to
invoke the assistance of the proprietor to =unfasten them=. The man was
sure to be a thief, and the bundle always contained the stolen article,
which was laid at the feet of the lawful owner--the proprietor of the
place--Peacher or some one of his friends who had reported to him a
robbery. On one occasion a wagoner on his way to Georgetown drove his
team past Peacher's place and abstracted from a wagon that belonged to
Peacher some part of the gearing, with which he proceeded to Georgetown,
fifty-seven miles distant. Peacher soon discovered the loss but, as
usual, he "lay low" and waited for the certain issue. In a few days a
man was seen to approach Peacher's place early in the morning afoot and
carrying an apparently heavy load. When he reached Peacher's gate, he
climbed one of the posts and rested his load on the fence nearby. No one
questioned him, for Peacher and his domestics recognized the articles,
the loss of which was known to them from the time of the theft, and the
presumption was that the man was the guilty one. There the culprit sat
without a word until the benevolent Peacher thought that the penitent
might be hungry and sufficiently humbled. Peacher invited the stranger
to get off and come into the house to get something to eat, but the
hapless thief was glued, as it were, to the seat and not 'till Peacher
chose to break the spell could the crestfallen victim get off his perch.
He then confessed his guilt and told how his conscience did not trouble
him a bit until he reached Georgetown with his plunder, when some
impulse forced him to leave his team in the city and walk back, carrying
the stolen articles, instead of waiting for his regular return trip to
make restitution. After his meal he commenced his journey back, afoot,
to the city for his team and in some time after rode past Peacher's
place on his home trip, but did not stop. How Peacher worked his charms
he never revealed, except that he said he had a wheel by the turning of
which, as the case demanded, he effected his wonderful exploits at
thief-catching. The wheel he never exhibited. For many years after his
death there was a common phrase in the neighborhood, "I'll introduce you
to Peacher's wheel," whenever any one was suspected of knavish
practices--especially a child or a superstitious person. It would take
more space than we have allotted to ourselves to relate a tenth of the
exploits of Peacher with his magic wheel.




THE WITCH'S OVERSIGHT.


Of an entirely different type as to nationality, color and moral
standing, was Jesse Short, a disreputable <DW64> scamp who enjoyed an
immense reputation for powers of mischief, and who got credit for nearly
every mysterious thing that occurred in the neighborhood, if only it was
of a disreputable kind. Nearly all of the houses had low porches at
their front doors, and the very narrow spaces underneath were enclosed
with lattice work, so close that a robin could scarcely force himself
inside and, if he could, he had very scant room to hop for a little
exercise. It often happened, however, that in the early morning the ears
of the family were greeted with the bleats or grunts of a well grown
sheep or porker belonging to some neighbor that had found its way or for
which a way had been found, in some uncannie manner to enter, and which
had to crouch very low to find room for itself. But although an entrance
had been found for it, there was no exit until the porch was torn down.
All this and many other such pranks were put to the credit of Jesse
until he enjoyed a fame equal to that of Michael Scott, and was the
great terror of the country all 'round. Like John Peacher of better
character, he performed too many feats for recital in this modest-sized
book, but we will relate one that was witnessed, and is vouched for by
at least two parties of unexceptionable character, who are still living,
one of them being the victim of Jesse's unholy practices, who can still
exhibit marks left on her person by the wizard's touch.

Jesse was a slave on the Miller estate, about four miles northwest of
Harper's Ferry. Near this plantation was another owned and occupied by
John Engle, a pious, God-fearing man, some of whose children are yet
alive. As far as we know there are two--Mr. James Engle and his sister,
Mrs. Margaret Moler. When these were very young children, their father
owned or hired a <DW52> girl to whom our hero, Jesse, desired to pay
attentions and with this view, often visited Mr. Engle's house. Mr.
Engle, however, positively forbade those visits on account of Jesse's
very bad reputation. It was supposed that our hero was deeply offended
at this exclusion from the company of his lady-love, and secretly vowed
vengeance, although his countenance and general bearing towards the
Engle family did not betray his real feeling. One day he visited the
house, ostensibly to convey some message from his master. While he was
waiting for a return message, Margaret, the five year old daughter of
Mr. Engle, who is now the widow of a Mr. John Moler, passed close to
him. The <DW64> patted the child and appeared to have a desire to
ingratiate himself with her, but the little girl screamed wildly as soon
as his hand touched her, and she showed the utmost horror of him. Her
screams continued until she got into fits and the greatest difficulty
was experienced in restoring her temporarily to her normal condition.
But the little one was not the same from that time. Day by day she
failed, lost appetite and could not get natural sleep. In a month she
was reduced from a hale, hearty and lively child to a mere spiritless
skeleton, and hope of her recovery was almost abandoned. At that time
regular physicians were not as plentiful as they are now, and old
mammies of either color were mostly depended on, especially in cases of
ailing children. The Engle family were then, as they are now, among the
most respectable in Jefferson county, and, from regard for them as well
as for natural sympathy, every mother in the neighborhood and every
skillful woman aided in trying to restore the poor child, but in vain.
When the little tot was almost exhausted somebody remembered that across
the Potomac, in Maple swamp, a place inhabited in a great measure by
half-breeds descended from the Indians, lived a certain Mrs. Mullin,
whose fame for occult knowledge was wide-spread. Indeed, she was a power
even among the professors themselves. To her as a last resort the
parents of the child appealed. The benevolent old lady responded at
once, and crossed the Potomac on her mission of charity. She took the
child on her knee, without the least repugnance on the part of the
little girl. What mystic words or rites the old lady used, tradition
does not say, but she took from her pocket a pair of scissors and with
deliberation clipped the nails from the fingers of the child--from all
but one finger--and herein lies the wonder, for the child at once began
to improve and, as we have before mentioned, is still alive and hearty
at an advanced age, with the full use of all her limbs, except that one
finger, the nail of which Mrs. Mullin failed to clip. That finger is
crooked and that one alone. It has never been straight since that day,
about seventy-five years ago, when Mrs. Mullin, either by accident or
design, failed to treat it as she treated its fellows. It never pains
her, however, and merely gives a sign of something designed to be a
mystery. Mrs. Mullin, as far as we know, never tried to rectify the
omission or make any explanation.




THE REMORSEFUL DOG.


About half way between Duffield's and Shenandoah Junction, on the south
side of the B. & O. railroad, and very close to it, is to be seen the
grave of General Darke, heretofore mentioned as one of the famous men of
the Revolution, who once lived in that region which is embraced in the
present county of Jefferson, and whose homes were very close to Harper's
Ferry. General Darke is the hero of the neighborhood, and many of the
best people of Jefferson county, are proud of the kinship to him, which
they claim. His personal history would, indeed, read like a romance, but
our proposed limits forbid us the pleasure of giving it in detail. We
will merely relate one of his adventures and a curious tale told of a
dog belonging to him that figured in connection with his master's story.
We have but the general's own words to prove the truth of most of the
tale, but he was a man of undoubted veracity and, besides, he had no
motive for inventing the story. We have heretofore given an account of
great sagacity manifested by a dog owned by Colonel Lewis Washington
and, as the farms on which the dogs were born are but a short distance
apart, it is probable that General Darke's dog was a remote ancestor of
that of Colonel Washington, and that the extraordinary intelligence they
both displayed was a family trait. The exact period of our legend is
unknown, but it probably was a few years after the Revolution.

General Darke then lived near the spot where he now rests from his
life's work, surrounded by many of his veterans and relatives, by whom
he was much revered. The general, like the great majority of men, was
fond of a good dog, and was very jealous of the fame as well as careful
of the bodies of his dumb favorites of that species, which he kept
around him. One dog was his 'special pet. Tradition does not tell what
breed he belonged to or his name, as it does in the case of Colonel
Washington's "Bob"--neither does it inform us of his caudal advantages
or deficiencies. Indeed, in the case of "Bob" there is no need, yet
awhile, to question tradition, for we all, whose hair is gray, knew him,
that is all of us who in 1859 were acquainted with the hospitable home
of the colonel.

One day one of the general's neighbors complained to him that his--the
neighbor's--meat house had frequently of late been robbed and that,
having watched many nights for the thief, he had at last got ocular
demonstration that the general's favorite dog was the culprit. The
general would not deny the fact of the robbery, but he plainly denied
the guilt of his dog and, although the complainant was a man of the
utmost respectability, the general still stood up for his humble friend.
An agreement was finally made that the general himself should
watch--which he did and, besides, every night he barricaded the room in
which the dog used to sleep, and left the animal not the least chance,
as he thought, to leave the house without permission. The master kept
listening, too, for any sound from the dog's room that would indicate an
effort to escape, and for some nights he heard just enough noise to
prove that the dog was in his proper place. One night, however, he
thought the stillness unnatural, and his suspicion was aroused. He
entered the dog's room and found it vacant. He also found a hole either
in the wall of the room or at the foundation, through which it was easy
to make a noiseless escape. The general at once started in pursuit and
encountered the dog on the way from the neighbor's meat house whither
the master's suspicions led him. The dog had a large piece of meat in
his mouth, which he at once dropped on recognizing his owner, and then
made a hasty retreat out of sight. Of course, the general made all the
apologies due from him to his wronged friend, and the trouble between
them was forever ended. The dog, however, was never again seen in that
neighborhood.

In some years after General Darke had occasion to travel to Ohio. He
made the journey on horseback, the only method at that time. One night
he took lodging at a lonely inn among the wilds of the Alleghany
Mountains. On alighting he noticed several suspicious-looking men
lounging around, but the general was a brave man and, besides, he had no
choice, so he remained at the house. He kept awake all night, however,
but he was not molested. Next morning he started to continue his
journey, but he had not advanced far before a very rough-looking man
jumped from behind a fence and ordered him to halt. At the same time a
dog bounded from the same direction to the road, and at once caught the
assailant by the throat and dragged him to the ground, holding on with a
death grip to that peculiarly dangerous part of the human anatomy to be
seized by. Whether the man was killed or not tradition does not say, but
he was rendered hors de combat. The general recognized in the dog his
own former pet, but the dog again fled from before the face of his old
master, by whom he was never again seen. The general returned to the
inn, reported the affair to the landlord and made special inquiries
about the dog. All he could learn was that the animal had appeared at
the inn a long time before, and that, the family having taken a liking
to the stray, it was allowed to remain. The dog was not to be seen at
the inn at least, until the general departed finally, nor is it known
that he ever did return and, as far as we know, he was never again seen
by any of his old acquaintances.

       *       *       *       *       *

Harper's Ferry has always been noted for the number of ministers of
religion it has produced. It would be impossible to name all of them in
view of the limit we have set for ourselves. A few, however, whom we
ourselves have taught and prepared for learned professions, we feel
justified in mentioning. They are Fathers Edward Tearney, James T.
O'Farrell and John Bowler, of the Catholic church; the Reverend McFadden
brothers--John, Harry and Frank; the Reverend C. B. Price and the
Reverend A. S. Yantis--the last five of various Protestant
denominations. We are proud of those boys, their genuine piety, their
learning and the great good they are reported as doing. No bigots are
they who can see no good in anybody that differs from them, but they
found their belief and their life-practise on the glorious "Sermon on
the Mount" and have a good word for everybody. This is the way to win
souls to God, and they have found it.

Various eminent men, not natives of the place, however, have served in
the ministry at Harper's Ferry. The Rt. Rev. J. J. Kain, the present
Arch-Bishop of St. Louis, and the Rt. Rev. A. Vandevyver, Bishop of
Richmond, were formerly priests in charge of the Catholic church there.
The venerable Dr. Dutton of the Presbyterian church also served there
and was the hero of a remarkable adventure in the great flood of 1870,
which we have noted elsewhere. The last mentioned there were held in
extraordinary honor. Many believe that the coming great man of the
Catholic church in America is Bishop Vandevyver, of Richmond. He is
certainly one of God's noblemen.

There are now serving in the ministry at Harper's Ferry the Reverend
Messrs. Marsh of the M. E. Church, and Sullivan and Farring of the M. P.
Church, also, the Reverend Father Collins, Catholic priest. We have not
the pleasure of much acquaintance with any of those gentlemen, but they
are, we know, men of very high character. Father Collins' father we knew
well--a better man never lived and we take him for a guarantee for his
son's excellence. We have been thrown a good deal into company with the
Reverend J. D. Miller of the Protestant Episcopal church, and in our
judgment, he is a gentleman of profound learning and a high degree of
polish and amiability. We always listen with high pleasure to his
conversation, the more so because he never tries to convince his hearers
that he "knows it all," although it is plain that he knows a great deal,
and that the day is not far off when he will make a very distinguished
mark. He is making it now.

In giving the names of Harper's Ferry-born clergymen we might have
mentioned Father William Lynch, pastor of the Catholic church at
Roanoke, Virginia, who, if not quite a native of Harper's Ferry came
very near having that claim on us. He was born and brought up at
Halltown, within four miles of Harper's Ferry, and those four miles
deprived the ancient village of the honor of being his birthplace, and
us of the credit his education would have conferred on us. He is,
however, regarded by us as one of our own, and the author is as glad of
the great success the good father has met and is meeting with as if he
himself had made him as he made the others. From this rather extended
notice of the ministers of religion to the credit of Harper's Ferry it
must not be inferred that the place is not entitled to the honor of
having produced other men of marked ability who adorn other professions.
Some sixty years ago was born in Bolivar, a suburb of the place, the
Hon. E. Willis Wilson, an eminent lawyer of Charleston-on-the-Kanawha.
The civil war broke out just at the time when he had got a fair
education and his studies were, of course, interrupted for a time. His
native energy, however, was too much for any obstacle and as soon as the
reverberation of the cannons ceased around his native place, he went to
work at the study of law, entered politics, and was chosen to fill
various places of honor and trust until he was elected governor of West
Virginia, and was inaugurated on the same day that saw the same ceremony
for President Cleveland. The election of Governor Wilson was the more
remarkable for the violent opposition to him on the part of all the
monopolies in the state and his was a triumph for the right as well as
for himself. His administration was a model one and as he is young
enough for further usefulness, the people of West Virginia will not lose
sight of him.

Another native of the place has risen to eminence in the law. The Hon.
James D. Butt was brought up under some disadvantages in the matter of
education, caused by the civil war but, as he was young enough at the
cessation of hostilities to resume his interrupted studies, he made up
for lost time. He is now Referee in the Bankruptcy Court of his native
district.

In medicine, too, Harper's Ferry has many sons to be proud of. William,
George and Robert Marmion, three sons of Dr. Nicholas Marmion, were
themselves famous physicians and surgeons, especially in diseases of
the eye and ear. The second--George--died some two years ago, but the
oldest--William--is still practising in Washington City, and ranks among
the very highest in the profession. The youngest--Robert--is in the U.
S. Navy. They were all our pupils in the long past.

Another pupil of ours is Dr. Joseph Tearney, now employed by the B. & O.
railroad. He has practised a good deal at this, his native place, and,
although he is yet a young man, he has, and justly has the reputation of
possessing wonderful skill in his profession. Personally, he is
emphatically a "good fellow" with a big, generous heart, as is well
known to many a needy patient. So, with his acknowledged ability, the
confidence he inspires, and the magnetism that draws every one to him,
he cannot fail to become a veritable celebrity. And he, too, was a pupil
of ours. He never forgets the old tie and the "old man" is very much the
better for the remembrance.

We would be ungrateful indeed if we forgot Drs. Howard and Claude
Koonce, young physicians, natives of Harper's Ferry and two of our old
pupils. They are sons of Mr. George Koonce, prominent in the politics of
West Virginia. They stand very highly in their profession and are
whole-hearted young men.

       *       *       *       *       *




    1871-1903

    ESTABLISHED 32 YEARS

    JOHN W.
    BISHOP

    WHOLESALE GROCER
    AND
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    MARTINSBURG,--WEST VA.

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    [Illustration]

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    Dime Museum

    [Illustration]

    If you fail to see SPENCER'S DIME MUSEUM when
    visiting Historical Harper's Ferry, you will have
    missed an opportunity that you will ever regret.
    Having had a mania for

    RELICS

    at a very early age much valuable time in fifty years
    has been spent in collecting the largest private collection
    in the United States.

    Traveling Salesmen, Tourists, and Strangers generally have
    expressed their surprise upon viewing such

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    T. M. CONNER, Prop.      A. A. LAMON, Clerk

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_=THIS HOTEL=_ Has just been completely renovated throughout, is located
in the business part of the town and convenient to trains :: :: ::

    =HARPER'S FERRY=
    WEST VIRGINIA




[Illustration]

BALTIMORE AND OHIO'S MAIN LINE THROUGH HARPERS FERRY WAS A MUCH
FOUGHT-OVER PRIZE IN CIVIL WAR DAYS


On October 17, 1859, John Brown and his small band of followers, swooped
down on Harpers Ferry. The B & O right-of-way was the scene of the first
fighting and two railroad employees were among the first casualties.
Upon arrival of the eastbound night passenger express at Harpers Ferry
the train was surrounded by a cordon of riflemen. In the darkness a shot
was fired and Station Porter Haywood Sheppard fell, dying. During the
wild firing Station Master Beckham also was killed.

When word of this incident reached the B & O President, John W. Garrett,
he immediately notified the Secretary of War. To quell the uprising, a
detachment of ninety Marines, under Colonel Robert E. Lee, was sent to
the scene. The Abolitionist leader, and his followers, were captured
after a pitched battle, and Brown was tried and hanged on December 2,
1859.

Because the Baltimore & Ohio was the main east-west link available to
the Government for the movement of its soldiers, the B & O carried much
military freight and many troops during the Civil War years. At the
start of the war the railroad operated almost normally, running through
areas held by both armies. But, as the battles progressed, there were
frequent interruptions to rail service and repeated damage to B & O
tracks and equipment.

The record of the Civil War disaster, from 1861 to 1865, was unequaled
by the history of any other private industry in America. That the
railroad's engineers and workmen rebuilt the road in the face of enemy
gunfire is a memorable tribute to their skill and courage.

After the end of hostilities, thousands of troops traveled over the full
length of the B & O main line, from Washington, D. C. to Parkersburg, W.
Va., where they boarded steamers for Cincinnati, Louisville and other
river cities.




1958 Patrons


    Mrs. S. Hawpe Adams                                  Leesburg, Va.
    Geraldine (Kern) Basore                             Frederick, Md.
    Mrs. Irene McFaden Benjamin                      Lewisburg, W. Va.
    Anne Hobbs Betts                                   Alexandria, Va.
    Raymond Bresnahan
      (grandson Capt. Chas. Briggs)                     Hinsdale, Ill.
    Capt. Charles Briggs                                Hinsdale, Ill.
    Roy Spencer Butts
      (nephew Fannie Baden Loman)                      Bolivar, W. Va.
    Mrs. James F. Cassell                        Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Chas. Joshua Cavalier, Sr.                        Bolivar, W. Va.
    Chas. Joshua Cavalier, Jr.                   Shepherdstown, W. Va.
    Cyrus Wakefield Cavalier                     Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    David Taylor Cavalier                        Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Frank Schilling Cavalier                     Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Kenneth Kemp Cavalier                        Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Kenneth Kemp Cavalier, Jr.                   Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Mary Ann Ridenour Cavalier                        Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Mary Kemp Cavalier                                Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Sarah E. Cavalier                                 Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Miss Alvernon Cross                         Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Col. Cutshaw                                Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mary Cavalier Dalgarn                            Washington, D. C.
    Dorothy Nunnamaker Davis                             Richmond, Va.
    *Atty. Raymond C. Dickey                     Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Cassandra C. Dittmeyer                             Bolivar, W. Va.
    *C. Victor Dittmeyer                               Bolivar, W. Va.
    *George Dittmeyer                                  Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Walter E. Dittmeyer                               Bolivar, W. Va.
    Mrs. C. E. Dudrow                                  Bolivar, W. Va.
    Mrs. Castilinia Allstadt Elder               Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Will Erwin                                  Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Aileen O'Boyle Evans                              Mt. Lebanon, Pa.
    Mr. and Mrs. Paul W. Fishbaugh                   Washington, D. C.
    Isabel (Kern) Flannagan                           Bakerton, W. Va.
    *Mrs. Mary Elizabeth Dowden Furtney          Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Thomas William Geary                        Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Sergeant-Major William Joseph Geary
      (1st. W.W. U.S.M.C.)                       Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mrs. Claudia Furtney Geary                   Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Miss Elizabeth Geary                         Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Marie Bresnahan Gillingham                       Washington, D. C.
    *Miss Jessie Graham                          Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mrs. Laura Chambers Griffin                     Clarksburg, W. Va.
    James Karl Grubb                                   Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Capt. James W. Grubb                              Bolivar, W. Va.
    Mrs. Frank M. Harrison                              Baltimore, Md.
    Thomas Grove Henkle                               Halltown, W. Va.
    *Edward Higgins, Confederate Veteran         Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Cora Rockenbaugh Icenhower                       Washington, D. C.
    Mrs. Walter Jenkins                          Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Eleanor Knott Johnson                              Alexandria, Va.
    *Clifford C. Johnson, M.D.                   Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mrs. Clifford C. Johnson                     Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Samuel Linden Johnson                              Alexandria, Va.
    Mrs. Cornelia Marquette Jones                        Bethesda, Md.
    *O. T. Kemp                                        Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Charles Eugene Kern                         Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Edna Lee (Keyser) Kern                       Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Harry Eugene Kern                                Washington, D. C.
    Robert M. Knott                              Shepherdstown, W. Va.
    Marine Krepps                                Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Louise Rau Lawson                                  Bolivar, W. Va.
    Mr. and Mrs. Robert P. Leonard               Harpers Perry, W. Va.
    Horace Chambers Littlejohn                           Leesburg, Va.
    Daisy E. Marks
      (granddaughter Richard Heafer)                   Bolivar, W. Va.
    Lillie Wentzell Marquette                      Silver Springs, Md.
    William V. Marmion, Jr.                      Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mrs. Mayme Burleigh Marquette                Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Fred H. Mauzy                                     Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Dr. Henry T. McDonald                       Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mrs. Henry T. McDonald                       Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *George Leferve Marten                       Shepherdstown, W. Va.
    Mr. and Mrs. J. Allan Millar                     Washington, D. C.
    Miss Frances L. Millard                              Orange, N. J.
    Mr. and Mrs. Preston S. Millard              Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mr. and Mrs. Preston S. Millard, Jr.               Alexandria, Va.
    Miss Beatrice Miskimmon
      (Sponseller and Beale)                           Bolivar, W. Va.
    Mr. and Mrs. Charles B. Moler                Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Miss Mary V. Moler                               Washington, D. C.
    Miss Nina E. Moler                               Washington, D. C.
    Mr. and Mrs. Evan A. Nason                          Andover, Mass.
    Lewis Duke Nichols (great-nephew Todd Duke,
      Supt. of Arsenal)                          Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Louise Allstadt Watson Nichols (great-granddaughter
      John Allstadt, one of Brown's hostages)    Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Harold Nunnamaker
      (grandson "Yank" Nunnamaker)                       Richmond, Va.
    *J. Walter O'Boyle                                 Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Daniel O'Boyle                                    Bolivar, W. Va.
    Margaret Schilling Parlon                        Philadelphia, Pa.
    Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert E. Perry                Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mr. and Mrs. John L. Perry
      (Hildred Marlatt)                          Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Dr. and Mrs. John L. Perry, Jr.                     Houston, Texas
    Nancy Cavalier Perry                          Charles Town, W. Va.
    Thorton Tayloe Perry                          Charles Town, W. Va.
    Mrs. Lucas Phillips                                  Leesburg, Va.
    Edna May (Kern) Ramey                        Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Grace Sponseller Littleton Ramsdell                Bolivar, W. Va.
    Mrs. Briscoe Baldwin Ranson, nee Yantis      Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Mrs. Mary Conway Rau                        Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *W. O. Rau                                   Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mina Krepps Rau                                    Bolivar, W. Va.
    Mrs. William Reed, nee Dorothy Jones         Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Elinor Virginia Rider                             Halltown, W. Va.
    Mrs. Mary Brackett Robertson                     Washington, D. C.
    Mrs. Norman C. Rogers, nee Ranson                  Alexandria, Va.
    Mr. and Mrs. Eugene Ross                             Tazewell, Va.
    *J. Frank Schilling                                Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Carrie Gertrude Schilling                         Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Oliver Raymond Schilling                          Pittsburgh, Pa.
    Margaret Rodgers Schilling                         Pittsburgh, Pa.
    Robert Rodgers Schilling                           Pittsburgh, Pa.
    Amos Beaty Sharps                               Lumberport, W. Va.
    Mr. and Mrs. John T. Shirley
      (Gladys Marlatt)                                 Cumberland, Md.
    Mrs. Frank Eugene Shugart                    Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Edward Lee Smallwood                         Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Briscoe Smith                                Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Dorothy (Kern) Strouse                              Ranson, W. Va.
    *Mrs. Mary O'Bierne Sullivan                 Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Catharine Beck Tatten                              Pittsburgh, Pa.
    *Norman T. Thayer                            Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mrs. Strother Watson, nee Eackles                  Bolivar, W. Va.
    George L. Weber                                    Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Gov. Willis Wilson                                Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Father William Winston                      Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Hugh A. Winters                                    St. Davids, Pa.
    *Paul Eugene Winters                         Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Sue K. Winters                                   Falls Church, Va.
    Mr. and Mrs. Wilbur A. Winters                     Alexandria, Va.
    DeWitt Wentzell Zook                           Silver Springs, Md.
    Mrs. Everett K. Clark
      (Nellie Marlatt)                                   Chicago, Ill.
    Clarence E. Marlatt                         North Mountain, W. Va.
    *Charles E. Marlatt                          Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *William H. Marlatt                          Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mrs. Monroe B. Hallman
      (Ruth Marlatt)                           Ogden Dunes, Gary, Ind.
    Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd Hough                     Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Dr. W. E. Perry                             Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Lt. Gilbert E. Perry, Jr., U.S.A.F.
      U.S.M.A. 1946. 1924-1946                   Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Kate Strider Stanley                         Charles Town, W. Va.
    Loretta (Kern) Thompson                       Charles Town, W. Va.
    Leon Edwards                                 Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Charles W. Powers                                  Cabin John, Md.
    Charles Lee Kern                                   Alexandria, Va.
    John Louis Beck                                    Cleveland, Ohio
    *Mrs. Julia D. Littlejohn                    Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Clifton W. Littlejohn                       Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Mr. and Mrs. Edmund Chambers                Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Miss Kate Chambers                          Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Miss Jennie Chambers                        Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Miss Martha Chambers                        Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Forrest C. Littlejohn                 Shenandoah Junction, W. Va.
    *Mary Sites Littlejohn                 Shenandoah Junction, W. Va.
    *Forrest C. Littlejohn, Jr.            Shenandoah Junction, W. Va.
    *Paul V. Littlejohn                                   Roanoke, Va.
    Betty Lou Cavalier

    * Deceased


Patrons and Advertisers

Added in 1959

    *Mrs. Charles E. Marlatt (Wilmoth Headley)        Heathsville, Va.
    *Mrs. R. Booth Eubank                              Dunnsville, Va.
    *Walter W. Winters                           Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Edwin G. Winters                             Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *C. Edgar Dudrow                                   Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Mary Emma Dudrow                                  Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Joseph H. Renner                                  Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Prudence Williams Renner                          Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Rezin Shirley Rockenbaugh                   Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Laura Renner Rockenbaugh                    Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Wanda R. Young                                    Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Joseph J. Young                                   Bolivar, W. Va.
    *William P. Grove                            Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Edna W. Grove                               Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Charles Marvin Smith                        Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *J. Lyle Eackles                                   Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Alfred and Sarah Burton (Fair)                    Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Gus and Hattie Burton Stewart                     Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Hallie Edna Stewart                               Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Ethel T. Stewart                                Washington, D. C.
    Chauncey Burton Stewart                          Washington, D. C.
    Mr. and Mrs. Walter Burton Stewart                Takoma Park, Md.
    Lt. and Mrs. Robert A. Stewart                    Kansas City, Mo.
    Howard H. Stewart                                Washington, D. C.
    Cadet Donald E. Stewart                          West Point, N. Y.
    *Mary Elizabeth Wilson (Kirby)                     Bolivar, W. Va.
    *William Fitzgerald Wilson (One of John Brown's prisoners)
    Agnes Burleigh                               Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Louise Burleigh Thompson                      Charles Town, W. Va.
    Katheryn Burleigh Pope                       Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    John Burleigh                                    Washington, D. C.
    *Thomas Burleigh, Jr.
      (son of Thomas Burleigh, Sr.)              Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mr. and Mrs. Harwood Cauffman
      (Adelaide Naill)                           Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Cornelius M. Marquette                      Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Daisy Marquette Show                        Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Catherine Johns Myers                       Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    Mr. and Mrs. W. Clifton Butts
      (Anna M. Mauzy)                                  Bolivar, W. Va.
    Wilma Wentzell Zook                               Chevy Chase, Md.
    *Mr. and Mrs. John Buckey Wentzell
      (Clara V. Rau)                                   Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Alice Merrick Zook                          Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Blanche (Keyser) Wiseman                          Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Mr. and Mrs. Rudolph Rau                          Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Charles R. Rau                                    Bolivar, W. Va.
    *William Frederick Stuart                          Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Fannie Decker Stuart                            Washington, D. C.
    Edna Stuart Aubright                             Washington, D. C.
    *John A. Stuart                                    Bolivar, W. Va.
    *James W. Marlatt                                  Bolivar, W. Va.
    E. R. (Dolph) Sponsellar                           Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Clara Burton Sponsellar                           Bolivar, W. Va.
    L. Marie Sponsellar Martin                        Chevy Chase, Md.
    *Levi Winbert Decker (Confederate Soldier)         Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Frances Ardella Decker                            Bolivar, W. Va.
    Fitzhugh Lee (Tobe) Decker                               York, Pa.
    Beulah Glenn Decker Kight                           Arlington, Va.
    Langdon Backus                                        Armory House
    *Daniel Henry Nichols                        Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Lucy Shirley McFaden Nichols                Harpers Ferry, W. Va.
    *Daniel Shirley Nichols                       Charles Town, W. Va.
    Rita Gaver-Nichols                            Charles Town, W. Va.
    Frances Minge Nichols Liddell                     New Orleans, La.
    Joseph McFadden Nichols                            Cumberland, Md.
    Mr. and Mrs. Eugene P. Andes                      West Newton, Pa.
    Rev. Alfred P. Collins                             Bolivar, W. Va.
    Catherine Butts Collins                            Bolivar, W. Va.
    Nina Filler Butts                                  Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Mr. and Mrs. Kirby L. Frye                        Bolivar, W. Va.
    H. L. Jones                                        Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Capt. George W. Chambers                          Bolivar, W. Va.
    *Frances Cutshaw Chambers                          Bolivar, W. Va.




=STORER COLLEGE=

    =The oldest school for  students in W. Va.
    Established 1867. Coeducational, Academic,
    State Normal, Music and Industrial Departments=

Beautiful site, ample buildings, fine libraries, a healthful atmosphere
and strong faculty make this college an excellent educational
institution for  youth.

Write for catalogue

    =HENRY T. McDONALD, A. M., President=
    =N. C. BRACKETT, Ph. D., Treasurer=




Added in 1959


    =BOLIVAR METHODIST CHURCH=

    =A Century of Christian Science=

    =Dedicated Sept. 26th, 1849=

The final resting place of an unknown Union Soldier, who, wounded and
alone, found shelter under the walls of this Church during the bitter
fighting of the Civil War.


    =SAINT JOHN'S LUTHERAN CHURCH=

    =Harpers Ferry, West Virginia=

    =Organized 1848=

    =Pastor I. P. Smeltzer--1850=

    =Pastor L. B. Williamson--1959=

    =Basement of Church used as
    hospital during Civil War=


=CAMP HILL METHODIST CHURCH=

Historic Camp Hill Methodist Church was organized in 1830, and received
its name from many camps situated on hill under command of General
Pinkney in 1799. Services have been held continuously, except 1861-65
because of the Civil War. 1867 work started on the present building by
Rev. Jeremiah Clay. Mr. Derrett Coates, loyal member, lost his life
while trying to obtain brick from the armory yard. 1948 the late Mr.
Charles Smith financed the remodeling to the present building.


=ST. JOHN'S EPISCOPAL CHURCH, HARPERS FERRY=

Began with five communicants, with Rev. Dr. Andrews, Rector of
Shepherdstown, holding service twice a month, first in the old
Temperance Hall, and later in the Armory Office. Admitted into the
Diocese in 1850. In 1853, 26 persons were confirmed. The old church,
looking down upon the flowing waters of the two rivers was begun in
1851--completed and furnished in 1852. During the Civil War the Church
was so badly wrecked only walls and roof remained. To Rev. Wm. T.
Leavell, belongs the credit of gathering the scattered congregation. He
secured from the Government, the lot, on which the rectory built in 1899
now stands. Old Church was re-built in 1882. A new site was obtained in
the western part of town, a new church was erected. Cornerstone of new
St. John's laid Nov. 1895. Consecrated by Bishop W. L. Gravatt, March
19, 1899. Rectory completed 1899.


=ST. PETER'S CATHOLIC CHURCH=

Established as a mission by Father Dubois about 1792. Church built in
1830 and rebuilt in 1896. Only church in town to remain open for
services throughout the Civil War.




Transcriber's Notes.


=Text= denotes bold in the original. _Text_ indicates italics in the
original.

Variations in spacing, capitalization and hyphenation; variation in
spellings of names between the main part of the text vs. the lists of
patrons; variable spelling of "Alleghany" vs. "Allegheny"; missing towns
in the lists of patrons; the ordering of the chapter title before the
chapter number in Chapter II; and lack of chapter title in Chapter I are
as per the original.

Errors in punctuation have been corrected without note. The following
typographic errors have been corrected:

  p. 8   contempt on the busy hive of men below (changed from "bleow")
  p. 9   to see one of them climb (changed from "clmb")
  p. 10  a crow's nest is a comparatively (changed from "compartively")
  p. 12  then unbroken wilderness to fulfill (changed from "fullfill")
  p. 14  that transpired in Mr. Harper's time (changed from "itme")
  p. 14  and another, though a less freshet (changed from "through")
  p. 15  and ninety-five acres on the Loudoun (changed from "Loudon")
  p. 19  into the streets in pursuit of some of (changed from "some or")
  p. 19  pursuit of some of his tormentors (changed from "tormenters")
  p. 19  charge an armorer for medical advice (changed from "advise")
  p. 20  from eastern Virginia, the ancestors (changed from "ancesters")
  p. 20  in 1810, by James Stubblefield (changed from "Stublefield")
  p. 22  man was named Robert W. Daugherty (changed from "Daughtery")
  p. 22  Young Daugherty was a scion of the (changed from "Daughtery")
  p. 25  Twice he had been honorably acquitted (changed from "acquited")
  p. 28  under him, on account of politics (changed from "poliics")
  p. 30  These restrictions were (changed from "restriction were")
  p. 31  do them justice. The octogenarian participants (changed from
           "octogenarians participants")
  p. 40  succeeded in lifting Chamberlain (changed from "Chamblain")
  p. 41  Chamberlain on the subject, but it is (changed from "is is")
  p. 44  Mr. Beckham was always much opposed (changed from "Beckman")
  p. 47  boarded at the house of Mr. Ormond (changed from "0rmond")
  p. 51  Mr. Thomas Boerly approached (changed from "approched")
  p. 52  passed on strongly impressed (changed from "impresssed")
  p. 53  history, like that of Pocahontas (changed from "Pocohontas")
  p. 53  gratefully remembered than that (changed from "that that")
  p. 58  holes kept up a brisk fusillade (changed from "fusilade")
  p. 58  Martinsburg; Mr. Young, of Charlestown (changed from
           "Charestown")
  p. 58  Shenandoah streets, where Mr. Boerly (changed from "Boerley")
  p. 59  enemy. He crept along the railroad (changed from "ralroad")
  p. 61  be none by them on the besiegers (changed from "beseigers")
  p. 63  Brown himself was wounded severely (changed from "severly")
  p. 63  This removal and reinterment accomplished (changed from
           "reinterrment accomplish-")
  p. 65  penknife or even with a minie (changed from "minnie")
  p. 65  he had, all along, communicated (changed from "communcated")
  p. 66  women and children rushed wildly (changed from "wildy")
  p. 67  not molest them. Sandy Hook (changed from "Hok")
  p. 70  succeeded in eluding the vigilance (changed from "viligance")
  p. 73  hoped that honest convictions (changed from "convections")
  p. 74  railroad passengers who, every day (changed from "everyday")
  p. 74  Henrie Kagi, Charles P. Tydd, Oliver (changed from "Oiver")
  p. 75  and helped to give to his aquiline (changed from "acquiline")
  p. 79  William Lehman, who (changed from "wh")
  p. 81  did not see the latter occurrence (changed from "occurence")
  p. 83  it was he that killed Mr. Boerly (changed from "Boerley")
  p. 85  Elsie Kreglow, of the District (changed from "Distict")
  p. 89  over him. Brown coolly (changed from "cooly")
  p. 93  dwelt on his extraordinary (changed from "extraodinary")
  p. 93  The sheriff--Campbell--who officiated (changed from "Cambell")
  p. 93  himself and the gallant nation of (changed from "of of")
  p. 94  ugly scars remained as mementos (changed from "mementoes")
  p. 94  without a scratch and succeeded (changed from "succeded")
  p. 95  and the following gentlemen (changed from "gentlement")
  p. 96  avoid disagreeable repetitions (changed from "repititions")
  p. 97  perhaps, by his consciousness (changed from "conciousness")
  p. 99  hands of the United States troops (changed from "State
           stroops")
  p. 100 many of those who participated (changed from "patricipated")
  p. 100 Kentucky and other southern (changed from "souther")
  p. 100 mostly of rough, Ohio boatmen (changed from "boastmen")
  p. 102 crowds of soldiers on the platform (changed from "plaform")
  p. 103 signal example of vengeance (changed from "vengence")
  p. 107 Henderson--wounding him severely (changed from "severly")
  p. 109 see the rapid demoralization (changed from "demorilization")
  p. 109 certain parties pursuing the thieves (changed from "theives")
  p. 110 learning this accomplishment so necessary or at least ("so
           necessary or at least" repeated in original)
  p. 111 day aiding Beauregard at Manassas (changed from "Manasas")
  p. 119 major's office. Many and various (changed from "varius")
  p. 120 property as the trestle buttresses (changed from "butresses")
  p. 121 suspicions, it is believed (changed from "belived")
  p. 123 Friday and Saturday, September (changed from "Septemeber")
  p. 125 foundation in fact, but is (changed from "is is")
  p. 127 spirit which he afterwards exhibited (changed from "exhibted")
  p. 128 superiors. He was a great (changed from "geat")
  p. 128 terror of sutlers (changed from "suttlers")
  p. 130 injuring any one, and then (changed from "the")
  p. 132 the State of Ohio a (changed from "as")
  p. 133 the protection of the Baltimore (changed from "Balitmore")
  p. 133 switch key, they transferred the (changed from "the the")
  p. 134 orders with the aggravation (changed from "aggravaton")
  p. 136 was surprised and taken prisoner (changed from "prsoner")
  p. 137 claim on the chronicles (changed from "chonicles")
  p. 138 hide himself in some bullet-proof (changed from "bullet-<DW30>")
  p. 138 of General Lee at Appomattox (changed from "Appomatox")
  p. 139 would increase and, finally, a motley (changed from "motly")
  p. 140 a native of Hesse Darmstadt (changed from "Darmstdat")
  p. 142 theme of this little book will flourish (changed from "fourish")
  p. 144 of those three extraordinary (changed from "extraodinary")
  p. 145 Chief Justice Chase presiding at the (changed from "a tthe")
  p. 148 necessary to rebuild at Harper's (changed from "Haper's")
  p. 150 has no other merit, it commands (changed from "command")
  p. 150 best view of Harper's Ferry, to choose (changed from "chose")
  p. 153 to which he was clinging with (changed from "wth")
  p. 153 clinging with the proverbial (changed from "proverbal")
  p. 154 around it. At length, his (changed from "His")
  p. 159 mingled with hysterical screams from (changed from "form")
  p. 159 any exertion to save himself (changed from "hmself")
  p. 161 put in a sharp rejoinder (changed from "rejoiner")
  p. 163 when Mr. Williams and his (changed from "an dhis")
  p. 164 instances, the very foundations (changed from "foundatons")
  p. 164 their industry and unobtrusive (changed from "unobstrusive")
  p. 165 and the remains were forwarded (changed from "forwaded")
  p. 169 Munchausen immediately transferred (changed from "transfered")
  p. 170 did not suffer much from this flood (changed from "food")
  p. 173 by any victory for the canal company (changed from "comjany")
  p. 179 profession in West Virginia, Maryland (changed from "Marylang")
  p. 179 stranger called at Livingstone's (changed from "Livingtone's")
  p. 180 was listening to the conversation (changed from "conversaton")
  p. 187 and looked around inquiringly (changed from "inquriingly")
  p. 202 Dime Museum (changed from "Musuem")
  p. 202 If you fail to see SPENCER'S DIME MUSEUM (changed from "MUSUEM")
  p. 206 Louise Allstadt Watson Nichols (great-granddaughter) (changed
           from "great-grandaughter")





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strange Story of Harper's Ferry, by 
Joseph Barry

*** 