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 bummers 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 bummer 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 negro 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 negroes, 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 slope 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 negro 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 colored 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 colored 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."