Part 15

In June, 1859, John Brown, with two of his sons, and two friends, started south. He rented a farm about five miles from Harper's Ferry, in a quiet, out-of-the-way place. There were several cabins in the neighborhood, and as his followers gradually joined him, they occupied these shelters. A daughter kept house for him during the summer. The men farmed in the daytime, and planned their conspiracy at night. The leader did everything he could to win the friendship of his neighbors. He had some knowledge of medicine, and attended all who were sick. Frequently he preached in the little Dunker chapel near by. He was always ready to share his food or give the shelter of his roof to any travelers. Slowly he collected guns and ammunition, and late in September sent his daughter north, and arranged to make his attack. At first some of the other men objected to his plans. One or two did not approve of his seizing the government arsenal, and thought they should simply make a raid into Virginia as the slave-state men had formerly carried war into Kansas. Their leader, however, was determined, and nothing could turn him. Already he feared lest some suspicion of his purpose might have spread, and was eager to make his start. He set Sunday night, October 16th, as the time for the raid. That morning he called his men together and read to them from the Bible. In the afternoon he gave them final instructions, and added: "And now, gentlemen, let me impress this one thing upon your minds. You all know how dear life is to you, and how dear life is to your friends. And in remembering that, consider that the lives of others are as dear to them as yours are to you. Do not, therefore, take the life of any one, if you can possibly avoid it; but if it is necessary to take life in order to save your own, then make sure work of it."

At eight o'clock that night the old farm was alive with action. John Brown called: "Men, get on your arms; we will proceed to the Ferry." His horse and wagon were driven up before the door, and some pikes, a sledge-hammer, and a crowbar were put in it. John Brown pulled on his old Kansas cap, and cried: "Come, boys!" and they went into the lane that wound down the hill to the highroad.

Each of the band had been told exactly what he was to do. Two of the men were to cut the telegraph lines, and two others were to detain the sentinels at the bridge. Men were detailed to hold each of the bridges over the two rivers, and others to occupy the engine house in the arsenal yard.

The night was cold and dark. John Brown drove his one-horse farm-wagon, and the men straggled behind him. They had to cover five miles through woods and over hills before they came down to the narrow road between the cliffs and the Cincinnati and Ohio canal. Telegraph wires were cut, the watchman on the bridge was arrested, and the band found their way open into Harper's Ferry.

Their object was to seize the arms in the arsenal and rifle factory. They marched to the armory gate, where they found a watchman. "Open the gate," one of Brown's men ordered. The watchman said that he could not, and another of the band declared that there was no time for talk, but that he would get a crowbar and hammer from the wagon. He twisted the crowbar in the chain that held the gate, and broke it open; then leaving the watchman in the care of two men, the rest made a dash for the arsenal.

A great deal happened in a short time. Guards were overpowered, the bridge secured, and the river forded close to the rifle-works. Not a gun had to be fired, and both soldiers and civilians did as they were bid by the armed men. Others of the raiders hurried out into the country, and meeting some colored men, told them their plans, and the latter at once agreed to join them. Each of the negroes was sent at once to stir up the slaves in the neighborhood, and bring them to Harper's Ferry. The raiders then came to the house of Colonel Lewis Washington. They knocked on the door, and were admitted. Colonel Washington asked what they wanted. The leader answered, "You are our prisoner, and must come to the Ferry with us." The Virginian replied, "You can have my slaves, if you will let me remain." He was told, however, that he must go back with them; and so he did, together with a large four-horse wagon and some arms, guns, swords, and cartridges.

Others of the band had brought in more Virginia prisoners. An east-bound train on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad that reached Harper's Ferry about one o'clock in the morning was detained, and the passengers were kept there until sunrise. John Brown was in command at the arsenal, and the rest of his band were acting at different points. By morning the people of the village were all alarmed. They did not know what the raiders meant to do, but many of them fled to the mountains, spreading the news as they went.

In spite of some little confusion among his followers, practically all of John Brown's plans had been successful up to this point. He had captured the armory, and armed about fifty slaves. His next object was to get the store of guns and ammunition that he had left at his farm. Here came the first hitch in his plans. He ordered two of his men, Cook and Tidd, to take some of the freed slaves in Colonel Washington's wagon, and drive to the house of a man named Terrence Burns, and take him, his brother and their slaves prisoners. Cook was to stay at Burns's house while Tidd and the negroes were to go to John Brown's farm, load the guns in the wagon, and bring them back to a schoolhouse near the Ferry, stopping on the way for Cook and his prisoners. This the two men did; but they were so slow in getting the arms from the farm to the schoolhouse, a distance of not over three miles, that much valuable time was lost. Cook halted to make a speech on human equality at one of the houses they passed, and Tidd stopped his wagon frequently and talked with passers-by on the road. They had the first load of arms at the schoolhouse by ten o'clock in the morning, but it was four o'clock in the afternoon before the second load arrived. All the guns and arms should have been at the schoolhouse by ten o'clock, if the men had followed John Brown's orders strictly.

John Brown probably still intended to carry his arms, together with the prisoners and their slaves, up to Loudoun Heights, where he would be safe for some time, but his men were so slow in obeying his orders that the enemy was given time to collect. The train that had left Harper's Ferry that morning carried word of the raid throughout the countryside, and men gathered in the neighboring villages ready to march on Harper's Ferry and put an end to the disturbance. John Brown held thousands of muskets and rifles in the arsenal, while the men who were marching to attack him were for the most part armed with squirrel guns and old-fashioned fowling-pieces. The militia collected rapidly, and marched toward the Ferry from all directions. By noon the Jefferson Guards had seized the bridge that crossed the Potomac. Meantime John Brown had girded to his side a sword that had belonged to Lafayette, that had been taken from Colonel Lewis Washington's house the night before, called his men from the arsenal into the street, and said, "The troops are on the bridge, coming into town; we will give them a warm reception." He walked back and forth before the small band, encouraging them. "Men, be cool!" he urged. "Don't waste your powder and shot! Take aim, and make every shot count! The troops will look for us to retreat on their first appearance; be careful to shoot first."

The militia soon advanced across the bridge and up the main street. When they were some sixty or seventy yards away from the raiders John Brown gave the order to fire. Some of the militia fell. Other volleys followed; and the attacking party was thrown into disorder. Finally they were driven back to the bridge, and took up a position there until reinforcements arrived. As they retreated John Brown ordered his men back to the arsenal. In the lull of the firing nearly all the unarmed people who were still in the town fled to the hills.

It was now one o'clock in the afternoon, and the band of raiders could have escaped to Loudoun Heights. But their leader wanted to carry the guns and ammunition away with him, and to do this he needed the aid of the rest of his men. He sent a messenger to one of his followers named Kagi, who was stationed with several others on the bank of the Shenandoah, with orders for him to hold the place a short time longer. The messenger, however, was fired on and wounded before he could reach Kagi, and the latter's party was soon attacked by a force of militia, and driven into the river. A large flat rock stood up in the river, and four of the five raiders reached this. There three of them fell before the fire of bullets, and the fourth was taken a prisoner. In similar ways the number of John Brown's men was much reduced.

The leader realized the danger of the situation, and decided that his best chance of escape lay in using the prisoners he had captured as hostages for his band's safe retreat. He moved his men, and the more important of the prisoners, to a small brick building called the engine-house. There he said to his captives, "Gentlemen, perhaps you wonder why I have selected you from the others. It is because I believe you to be the most influential; and I have only to say now that you will have to share precisely the same fate that your friends extend to my men." He ordered the doors and windows barricaded, and port-holes cut in the walls.

The engine-house now became the raiders' citadel, and the militia and bands of farmers who were arriving at Harper's Ferry released the prisoners who were still in the arsenal, and concentrated all their fire on the band in the small brick house.

As the sun set the town filled with troops, and it was evident that the men in the fort would have to surrender. They kept up their firing, however, from the port-holes, and were answered with a rain of bullets aimed at the doors and windows. Both sides lost a number of men. Two of John Brown's sons had been shot during the day. Finally the leader asked if one of his prisoners 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 other captives. He promised that if they would stop firing his men would do the same. One of the prisoners agreed to try this, and the firing ceased for a time.

More troops poured into Harper's Ferry, and presently Colonel Robert E. Lee arrived with a force of United States marines. Guards were set about the engine-house to see that John Brown and his men did not escape. Then Colonel Lee sent a flag of truce to the engine-house, and in the name of the United States demanded that Brown surrender, advising him to throw himself on the clemency of the government. John Brown answered that he knew what that meant, and added, "I prefer to die just here." Again in the morning Lee sent his aide to the fort. The officer asked, "Are you ready to surrender, and trust to the mercy of the government?" Brown answered, "No, I prefer to die here." Then the soldiers attacked, not with guns this time, but with sledge-hammers, intending to break down the doors. This did not succeed, and seizing a long ladder they used it as a battering-ram, and finally broke the fastenings of the main door. Lieutenant Green pushed his way in, and, jumping on top of the engine, looked about for John Brown. Amid a storm of bullets, he saw the white-haired leader, and sprang at him, at the same time striking at him with his sword. John Brown fell forward, with his head between his knees. In a few minutes all of the raiders who were left in the engine-house had surrendered to the government troops.

Of the band that had left the farm on Sunday night seven were taken prisoners, ten had been killed in the fighting, and six others had managed to make their escape. By noon of Tuesday, October 18th, the raid was over. John Brown, wounded in half a dozen places, lay on the floor of the engine-house; and the governor of Virginia bent over him. "Who are you?" asked the governor. The old man answered, "My name is John Brown; I have been well known as old John Brown of Kansas. Two of my sons were killed here to-day, and I'm dying too. I came here to liberate slaves, and was to receive no reward. I have acted from a sense of duty, and am content to await my fate; but I think the crowd have treated me badly. I am an old man. Yesterday I could have killed whom I chose; but I had no desire to kill any person, and would not have killed a man had they not tried to kill me and my men. I could have sacked and burned the town, but did not; I have treated the persons whom I took as hostages kindly, and I appeal to them for the truth of what I say. If I had succeeded in running off slaves this time, I could have raised twenty times as many men as I have now for a similar expedition. But I have failed."

The news of John Brown's raid spread through the country, and the people North and South were amazed and bewildered. They had grown used to hearing of warfare in the distant borderland of Kansas, but this was a battle that had taken place in the very heart of the Union. Men did not know what to think of it. John Brown appeared to many of them as a monstrous figure, a firebrand who would touch his torch to the tinder of slavery, and set the whole nation in a blaze. Newspapers and public speakers denounced him. They said he was attacking the foundations of the country when he seized the arsenal and freed slaves from their lawful owners. Only a handful of men had any good to say for him, and that handful were looked upon as madmen by their neighbors. Only a few could read the handwriting on the wall, and realize that John Brown was merely a year or two in advance of the times.

We who know the story of the Civil War and the abolition of slavery think of John Brown as a hero. We forget the outlaw and remember the martyr. If he was setting the laws of men at defiance he was also following the law that he felt was given him by God. His faith and his simplicity have made him a great figure in history. A man who met him riding across the plains of Kansas in the days of the border warfare drew a vivid picture of him. He said that a tall man on horseback stopped and asked him a question. "It was on a late July day, and in its hottest hours. I had been idly watching a wagon and one horse toiling slowly northward across the prairie, along the emigrant trail that had been marked out by free-state men.... John Brown, whose name the young and ardent had begun to conjure with and swear by, had been described to me. So, as I heard the question, I looked up and met the full, strong gaze of a pair of luminous, questioning eyes. Somehow I instinctively knew this was John Brown, and with that name I replied.... It was a long, rugged-featured face I saw. A tall, sinewy figure, too (he had dismounted), five feet eleven, I estimated, with square shoulders, narrow flank, sinewy and deep-chested. A frame full of nervous power, but not impressing one especially with muscular vigor. The impression left by the pose and the figure was that of reserve, endurance, and quiet strength. The questioning voice-tones were mellow, magnetic, and grave. On the weatherworn face was a stubby, short, gray beard.... This figure,--unarmed, poorly clad, with coarse linen trousers tucked into high, heavy cowhide boots, with heavy spurs on their heels, a cotton shirt opened at the throat, a long torn linen duster, and a bewrayed chip straw hat ... made up the outward garb and appearance of John Brown when I first met him. In ten minutes his mounted figure disappeared over the north horizon."

But John Brown had seized the government's arsenal, and put arms in the hands of negro slaves, and therefore the law must take its course with him. Its officers came to him where he lay on the floor of his fort, a badly-wounded man, who had fought for fifty-five long hours, who had seen two sons and eight of his comrades shot in the battle, and who felt that his cause was lost.

When men who owned slaves asked the reason for his raid, he answered, "You are guilty of a great wrong against God and humanity and it would be perfectly right for any one to interfere with you so far as to free those you wilfully and wickedly hold in bondage.... I pity the poor in bondage that have none to help them. That is why I am here; not to gratify any personal animosity, revenge, or vindictive spirit."

A number of Virginians had been killed in the fight, and it was difficult to secure a fair trial for the raiders. The state did its best to hold the scales of justice even. The formal trial began on October 27, 1859. Friends from the North came to his aid, and a Massachusetts lawyer acted as his counsel. John Brown heard the charges against him lying on a straw pallet, and four days later he heard the jury declare him guilty of treason. December 2, 1859, the sentence of the court was carried out, and John Brown was hanged as a traitor. His last written words were, "I, John Brown, am quite certain that the crimes of this guilty land will never be purged away but with blood. I had, as I now think vainly, flattered myself that without very much bloodshed it might be done."

Every great cause in history has its martyrs, and John Brown was one of those who were sacrificed in the battle for human freedom. Statesmen had tried for years to argue away the wrongs that began when the first African bondsmen were brought to the American colonies. Statesmen, however, cannot change the views of men and women as to what is right and wrong, and all the arguments in the world could not convince such men as John Brown and his friends that one man had a right to the possession of a fellow-creature. He struck his blow wildly, but its echo rang in the ears of the North, and never ceased until the Civil War was ended, and slavery wiped off the continent. The great negro orator, Frederick Douglass, said twenty-two years later at Harper's Ferry, "If John Brown did not end the war that ended slavery, he did, at least, begin the war that ended slavery. If we look over the dates, places, and men for which this honor is claimed, we shall find that not Carolina, but Virginia, not Fort Sumter, but Harper's Ferry and the arsenal, not Major Anderson, but John Brown began the war that ended American slavery, and made this a free republic.... When John Brown stretched forth his arm the sky was cleared,--the armed hosts of freedom stood face to face over the chasm of a broken Union, and the clash of arms was at hand."

In the spring of 1861 the Boston Light Infantry went to Fort Warren in Boston Harbor to drill. They formed a quartette to sing patriotic songs, and some one wrote the verses that are known as "John Brown's Body," and set them to the music of an old camp-meeting tune. Regiment after regiment heard the song and carried it with them into camp and battle. So the spirit of the simple crusader went marching on through the war, and his name was linked forever with the cause of freedom.

XII

AN ARCTIC EXPLORER

When Columbus sailed from Palos in 1492 he hoped to find a shorter route to Cathay or China than any that was then known, and the great explorers who followed after him had the same hope of such a discovery in their minds. When men learned that instead of finding a short route to China they had come upon two great continents that shared the Western Ocean, they turned their thoughts to discovering what was known as the Northwest Passage. They hoped to find a way by which ships might sail from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean north of America. The great English explorers in particular were eager to find such an ocean route, and this search was the real beginning of the fur-trading around Hudson's Bay, the cod-fishing of Newfoundland, and the whale-fishing of Baffin Bay.

One sea-captain after another sailed across the Atlantic, and strove to find the passage through the Arctic regions; but the world of snow and ice defeated each of them. Some went back to report that there was no Northwest Passage, and others were lost among the ice-floes and never returned. Then in 1845 England decided to send a great expedition to make another attempt, and put at the head of it Sir John Franklin, a brave captain who had fought with Nelson and knew the sea in all its variety. He sailed from England May 26, 1845, taking one hundred and twenty-nine men in the two ships _Erebus_ and _Terror_. He carried enough provisions to last him for three years. On July 26, 1845, Franklin's two vessels were seen by the captain of a whaler, moored to an iceberg in Baffin Bay. They were waiting for an opening in the middle of an ice-pack, through which they might sail across the bay and enter Lancaster Sound. They were never seen again, and the question of what had happened to Sir John Franklin's party became one of the mysteries of the age.

More than twenty ships, with crews of nearly two thousand officers and men, at a cost of many millions of dollars, sought for Sir John Franklin in the years between 1847 and 1853. One heroic explorer after another sailed into the Arctic, crossed the ice-floes, and searched for some trace of the missing men. But none could be found, and one after another the explorers came back, their only report being that the ice had swallowed all traces of the English captain and his vessels. At length the last of the expeditions sent out by the English Government returned, and the world decided that the mystery would never be solved. But brave Lady Franklin, the wife of Sir John, urged still other men to seek for news, and at last explorers found that all of Franklin's expedition had perished in their search for the Northwest Passage.

Arctic explorers usually leave records telling the story of their discoveries at different points along the road they follow. For a long time after the fate of Franklin's party was known, men tried to find records he might have left in cairns, or piles of stones through the Arctic regions. Whale vessels sometimes brought news of such records, but most of them proved to be idle yarns told by the whalers to surprise their friends at home. One of these stories was that all the missing records of Sir John Franklin were to be found in a cairn which was built near Repulse Bay. This story was told so often that people came to believe it was true, and some young Americans set out to make a search of King William Land and try to find the cairn. The party sailed on the whaler _Eothen_, and five men landed at Repulse Bay. The leader was Lieutenant Frederick Schwatka, of the United States Army. He had three friends with him named Gilder, Klutschak, and Melms, and with them was an Eskimo, who was known as Joe.

The young Americans set up a winter camp on Chesterfield Inlet, and tried to live as much like the native Eskimos as possible. During the winter they met many natives on their hunting-trips, and the latter soon convinced them that they were on a wild-goose chase, and that the story of the cairn was probably only a sailor's yarn. Lieutenant Schwatka, however, was not the sort of man to return home without some results from his trip, and so he made up his mind to go into the country where Franklin's party had perished, hoping that he might find some record which would throw light on the earlier explorer's travels.