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John Brown |
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John Brown |
John Brown's Farm and Gravesite are located on the 270 acre farm in North Elba township near the village of Lake Placid, Essex County, New York. The original land purchased by John Brown and tow of his sons was Lot 95 in Township 12 of the old Military Tract. It was first surveyed in 1805. It is now a Historic Landmark. In 1896 the land was transferred to New York State from twenty members of the John Brown Association.
John Brown's Gravesite is located in a
quarter acres parcel. The site was first closed in by a wooden fence. In about
1900 it was replaced with a gated wrought iron fence.
The family burial
site was reserved by the Brown Family when the land first sold in 1866.
The grave site has a large rock with John Brown's name carved into it. His
headstone is near the base of the rock. Now enclosed in glass.
Interments, besides John Brown's ,within that section are:
Capt.
John Brown d. 1776, John Brown's Grandfather. John had his body brought here
from Canton, Connecticut.
Other names inscribed on the headstone are those
of his two sons: Oliver and Watson who both died from the failed assault
on Harper's Ferry. Watson reinterred here in 1882. Oliver along with 9 of John
Brown's followers who died at Harpers Ferry were all reinterred here together in
one grave, 1899. Fredrick, who was shot dead during the 1856 Kansas uprisings.
Pictures from wikki.
CELEBRATION AT NORTH ELBA.
The 4th of July among the
Adirondacks.
THE JOURNEY TO JOHN BROWN'S HOUSE.
Into the
`enchanted land of the Adirondacks,' as this region has been fitly called by Mr.
Higginson, our little party passed on the 3d of July. We crossed Lake Champlain,
at Burlington, to Port-Kent, Eessex County, N.Y., thence by stage to Keeseville,
some four miles distant. Here we engaged an open wagon and pair of horses. Our
route lay through one of the most romantic regions on this continent—up the
valley of the AuSable, a dark and swift mountain stream, which for the first
dozen miles flowed gently over its gravelly bed, meandering through a broad
valley of placid beauty. The distant mountains, blue with mist in the morning,
grew more and more distinct as their proportions loomed up. Rare vistas through
the many ranges of hills were constantly opening, affording glimpses of green
valleys and broad intervales [sic].
After the first dozen miles, the
scenery grew more wild and romantic. `Old Whiteface' became more distinct. The
hills came down steep and precipitous almost to the water's edge. The bed of the
stream was narrow and rocky. The turbulent waters thundered along, breaking at
short intervals into miniature cataracts and falls, while occasionally a genuine
torrent thundered over a ledge of rocks high enough to make one think of the
sublimity of Nature. The road wound close to the river, sometimes cut from the
side of a sheer precipice, along which there seemed barely room enough to pass.
Below, fifty or a hundred feet, roared the river; above, the dark pines, firs
and cedars found scanty subsistence in the overhanging masses of rock, which
looked as if ready to fall each moment upon our heads. Words cannot paint the
wild grandeur of the scene. Passing through what is known as the `Narrows,'
where the `Whiteface mountain' rises up on the one hand, and on the other the
iron-gray wall of rock shoots up sheer and precipitous for hundreds of feet,
until you have to look over-head to catch the gleam from the sky; the dark
masses of evergreen, clinging to and clothing the steeps with sombre [sic]
beauty; the foaming torrent, boiling in the rapids which just below break over a
ledge of rocks—all these make a scene such as can only be surpassed in the Alps
or Andes.
It was near sundown when we reached the hamlet of North Elba.
The home of Capt. Brown was about a mile beyond. We reached it in good season,
and found a hearty welcome. It is a modest farm-house, which has been somewhat
enlarged during the past season, but yet not too comfortable for the severe
winters of this region. In answer to our inquiries, we learned that all of the
family had arrived. While supper was being prepared, the writer stole off for a
few moments' self-communion by the grave which contained the remains of the hero
whom he loved. About one hundred and fifty feet from the door stands a huge
granite boulder — a primeval relic — which seemed to have been upheaved [sic]
from the farthest depths of earth, in the convulsions of some mythical age.
There it stands, stern and strong, an emblem of the character of him whose body
molders in its shadow. Such a resting place fitly became the hero. On the side
of the rock facing the house, swells the mound which tells of him who lies
beneath. It is a simple turfed [sic] hillock, carefully banked and tended. The
revolutionary gray grave-stone stands in simple modesty at the head of the
mound.— How unpretending! how touching! yet how significant the inscription! On
the one side it reads:—
`In memory of Capt. John Brown, who
died at New York, Sept ye 3, 1776, in ye 48 year of his age.
John
Brown, born May 9, 1800, was executed at Charlestown, Va., Dec. 2, 1859.
Oliver Brown, born March 9, 1839, was killed at Harper's Ferry,
Oct. 7, 1859.'
On the other side is inscribed the following:
`In
memory of Frederick, son of John and Dianthe Brown, born Dec. 21, 1830,
and murdered at Osawatomie, Kansas, Aug. 30, 1856, for his adherence to the
cause of freedom.
Watson Brown, born Oct. 7, 1836, was wounded at
Harper's Ferry, Oct. 17, and died Oct. 19, 1859.'
What a commentary!
`Murdered for adherence to the cause of freedom!' With head uncovered, we sat
before that lowly grave.—
What passed in our mind words could not tell, but
the memory will never be obliterated. Preparations had been made for the
speaking. A rude platform and desk were placed on the granite, and the speakers
stood looking down on that grave. Beyond, rude seats were arranged for the
audience. That night was spent at the house of Henry and Ruth Thompson, in
company with the elder members of the family from Ohio, Miss Dunbar, and other
friends.
THE MEETING.
The day rose clear and bright.
Very early the people began to gather in, and it soon be- came evident that the
assemblage would be large. By ten o'clock, a thousand persons were present. The
meeting was called to order, and the Rev. Matthew Wardner, of Essex
County, chosen President. R. J. Hinton was nominated as
Secretary.
The President opened the proceedings with some introductory
remarks, alluding to the events which had brought the assemblage together, and
contrasting this celebration with others going on simultaneously throughout the
land.
Rev. C. G. Prindle then read the Declaration of
Independence, in a full and clear voice. As the list of grievances fell upon the
ears of those present, many, whose eyes were resting on the grave before them,
were making a stirring commentary upon the sounding periods.
Prayer was
then offered by the Rev. Lyman Prindle. It was worthy of the occasion.
John Brown's favorite hymn— `Blow ye the trumpet, blow!'
was then sung
by the choir and the meeting —the stirring strains swelling up until the
listening hills seemed to echo back the strains.
On motion, W. F. M.
Arny, of Kansas, Wendell Lancing, editor of the Republican paper at Keeseville,
and the Rev. Lyman Prindle, of Mooers, Clinton Co., N. Y., were appointed a
Committee to prepare resolutions for submission to the meeting.
The
President then introduced the Orator of the Day, as one of the oldest anti
slavery workers—the Rev. Dr. Luther Lee, of Chagrin Falls, Cuyahoga Co.,
Ohio—who delivered an Address, the length of which will prevent its insertion
here.
At the close of the Oration, another appropriate hymn was sung by
the choir.
Mr. Arny, from the Committee on Resolutions, then made the
following report, which was read:—
PREAMBLE AND RESOLUTIONS.
Whereas, this being the 84th Anniversary of the American Independence from the tyrannical control of the King and Government of Great Britain; and whereas, the principles enunciated in that immortal declaration assert the sacred right of each member of the human family to the possession of `life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness;' and whereas, there are now held in the most degrading bondage in one half of this boasted land of freedom, four millions of persons who are deprived of all the essential requisites which constitute individual, civil and religious liberty; and where as, it would seem as if this nation, in the fullness of intemperate pride glories in the shame which renders the land infamous, branding with the name of `felon' those who, believing in the Golden Rule and the Declaration of In dependence, dared to put into deeds the words of Jesus, and in their lives practice what Bunker Hill and Yorktown taught the race, finding no place for the noblest of men but the prison and the scaffold; therefore.
Resolved, That we, here assembled, standing around the mound which covers all that was mortal of our late friend, neighbor, and fellow- citizen, John Brown, of immortal memory— with the glorious events of his long life of self-sacrifice and martyr heroism fresh in our minds, and remembering, as he did, `those in bonds as bound with them'—do re-affirm our unalterable faith in the principles of Universal Freedom, and reiterate our determination, by all and every means to aid the slave to become free, leaving to each individual conscience the sole right of determining in what manner and at what time these principles shall be translated into acts.
Resolved, That we extend a warm and cordial greeting to those of the immortal twenty- one who followed John Brown to Virginia, and have survived that scene—the Bunker Hill of the enslaved race—and to-day are in safety with us. It is fitting in this presence, and on this anniversary, that our welcome should be earnest, and our thanks hearty and warm, to those who, by a spirit of heroic sacrifice, have renewed our faith in humanity and our trust in the eternal justice of God.
Resolved, That we, the men and women of Essex County here assembled, extend a hearty welcome and cordial greeting to our noble fellow-citizen, Thaddeus Hyatt, whose recent incarceration within a loathesome [sic] prison and slave pen at Washington City, because he would not permit tyranny to be consummated in his person, by submission to an unconstitutional usurpation by the U. S. Senate, deserves, and we hope will receive, in the persons of the recreant Senators who allowed the iniquity to be consummated, the strongest condemnation of the people of the free States; and for the noble spirit with which our friend met the issue, we return our heartfelt thanks, and assure him he has won the gratitude of both the present and future.
After the reading of the resolutions, the Secretary, Mr. R. J. Hinton, read the following letters from gentlemen whose presence had been anticipated; prefacing the reading of them by some remarks relative to the occasion that had called them together.
Mr. Hinton then said, the first letter is from the pen of one of New England's noblest sons, a man of large intellect, of great culture; but above all, possessing a broad and manly nature, of undaunted courage, and yet with a tender, womanly heart—one whom John Brown esteemed most highly—I mean Thos. Wentworth Higginson:—Worcester, Mass., June 29, 1860.
Dear Mrs. Brown:—How much pleasure it would give me to accept the kind invitation to be with you on the 4th of July. How beautiful will all that region be in its summer verdure, and how greatly will you enjoy the meeting with your sons. The memories of the blest departed will hallow your meeting, but not, I trust, sadden it. I shall always count it one of the chief honors of my life to have been admitted to your husband's confidence; and I am glad to be counted worthy to attend a meeting of his family.
I was sorry not to see you and your daughter Isabella when you were here; but I was only in Boston one day, and then could not find you. I believe Isabella, John and Jason are the only members of your family whom I have not seen; and I desire to send cordial regards to them and to all.
Yours, with sincere regard, Thos. Wentworth Higginson.
The next letters are from two members of the race for whom John Brown died. The first is from one of the most eloquent and gifted young men with whom it has been my fortune of late to meet. The name is of both good and evil omen; yet the odds are on the side of truth, even in this respect—freedom having two Douglass's, slavery but one. The letter is addressed to Messrs. Redpath and Hinton:—
Boston, June 29, 1860.
Gentlemen:—Your note, inviting me to be present at your gathering at North Elba, on the 4th of July, is received. I return to you, and the family of our much lamented friend, a thousand thanks. Be assured that nothing but a previous engagement, from which I cannot very well be relieved, prevents me from meeting with the dear good men and women of Old Essex around the grave of the martyr, saint and hero—John Brown.
Your meeting will be a glorious epoch in American history, and I trust will do much to redeem the day from the damning sacrilege of priestly cant and political mockery. I would suggest that you, gentlemen, who knew the old Christian best, should put the ball in motion at your meeting, and let us raise a monument to his memory that will rival in sold grandeur that old gray shaft on Bunker Hill.
Very truly, yours for the oppressed, H. Ford Douglass.
To Messrs. Hinton and Redpath,
Committee.
The following
letter is from the Rev. J. Sella Martin, Pastor of the Eleventh Baptist Church,
Boston. He is an earnest and gifted young man, seeking to lift his people in the
scale of progress, and believing in acts as well as
words:—
Boston, June 30, 1860.
Gentlemen:—Your kind invitation to visit North Elba on the 4th of July has been duly received. I return my thanks to you and the family of our sainted hero and martyr, John Brown. Nothing but other and imperative duties prevent me from being with you on that day—an occasion hereafter, I hope, to mark anew the opening wider the era of anti-slavery warfare. As a humble representative of the race for whom John Brown died, I regret that my tears can- not mingle with yours over his grave, nor my vows go up with those who are to carry on his work, that work shall be done in the fullness of that spirit which led the heroes of Harper's Ferry to cheerful sacrifice. In the shadows of the `everlasting hills.' and above that lowly mound. I hope fresh glory will go out and renewed strength be given.
I rejoice, as a minister of God's Word, in the Christianity of the martyr-chief. In an age when the lessons of God, writ in the Holy Scriptures, are mocked by a pro-slavery Church, John Brown believed and practised.[sic] In the spirit of the Savior's divine words, he dared `do unto others as he would they should do unto him.'—He dared do this in the face of a corrupt priest-hood, a tyrannical government, and a fatally weak and careless nation. Imbued by the truths of the Bible, the Spirit of God upheld him, as,from the battle field to the scaffold, the path of his latter life became so glorious a psalm of praise to the Most High, making his name one of the dearest Humanity can hold in memory.
May blessings rest upon all the surviving members of the family of our beloved friend, and upon those of his company who have escaped the Philistines. God grant a new spirit may go out from this meeting, and, armed in the truth of righteousness, may the friends of the slave go on conquering and to conquer, until not a fetter shames the limb of man, and the name of bondman shall be among the things of the past, remembered only to warn and to teach.
For universal freedom, fraternally yours, J. Sella Martin.
I have a letter from one who needs
no further introduction than the words of Wendell Phillips, who spoke of him `as
the man whose words were bullets
'—I mean James Redpath:
Malden, Mass., July 2, 1860.
John Brown, Jr.: My Dear Friend:— Duties, imperative and that cannot be delayed, will prevent me from visiting North Elba on Wednesday. Ere this week is over, I shall probably be sailing for Hayti. I deeply regret that I cannot be with you, to unite in re-affirming an unwavering faith in the doctrines of the Declaration, and in the expediency of the agency of physical force for the liberation of the slaves in our Southern States. A new party should be organized on this basis.
Slavery must be abolished by force—either by insurrections, controlled by white men, or by the strong arm of the Federal Government. The slave quarter is the Achilles heel of slavery: wound it there, and it dies. Washington City is the throat of the system: choke it there, and it dies also. Shall we strike, then, at its heel or its throat? I reply, strike at both. Let those of us who cannot aid in inciting insurrections, labor with untiring and systematic zeal to obtain the control of the Republican party. It is not half so difficult to abolitionize [sic] that party as most of us suppose. The great majority of its voters, I believe, are already true-hearted anti- slavery men. They support it only for want of a more radical organization. They do so, however, as if under protest, taking no really ear nest interest in it. Hence we find in its present platform a resolution branding the martyr of Virginia as a criminal—which, although, as we are told, it was received `without applause.' and `with an ominous silence.' the politicians nevertheless managed to pass. But think you that the masses of the Republicans regard your father as other than a man of most heroic soul and stainless integrity, who did what we all approved and silently were yearning to see done? If I were with you, I would urge the organization of a party of Practical Abolitionists, whose duty it shall be not to advocate the doctrines of
the Declaration, (which is the office of our noble friends, the Garrisonians[sic], and the Gerrit [sic] Smith men,) but to devise methods and policies of putting them into operation—of translating them into historical facts.
For myself, I have finished, I believe, my advocacy of the doctrines of the Declaration. Henceforth, I shall regard them as self-evident truths that require no argument to support them; and—heaven and fortune favoring—I shall now devote myself to the dissemination of methods of abolition, and also, I hope, to the work itself, when your father's successor shall be called on to take the field. None of us may have the privilege that your father's fate bestowed on him, of being martyred for the faith that is in us; but all of us, at least, can resolve to so live that, although we may not share his mode of death, we may win the undisputed title of deserving it.
Four victories were to be won, ere the American slave was to be freed—Bunker Hill, Harper's Ferry, a successful insurrection in one State, and then liberty peacefully effected throughout all the land. Two have already been achieved: let us hasten forward to the third; and God
speed the Pike!
Ever and forever your friend, James Redpath.
We have with us to day, in person, a man whom the United States Senate has chosen to honor by imprisonment in the national slave-pen at Washington. He has proven that Endurance has her victories as well as Force.—In my hand I hold a communication from one who has also proven, in resisting by other means that same iniquitous mandate, that one man in the right is stronger than an organized wrong. I allude to Thaddeus Hyatt, of New York, and Frank B. Sanborn, of Concord.—The first is here bodily; the second, spiritually, and has placed himself en rapport with us by means of his letter:
Concord, July 1, 1860.
My Dear Friend:—If it were in any way convenient for me, I should certainly be present at your family gathering, and the appropriate celebration of the 4th of July at your father's grave. But I have so often been absent from my school during the past year, that now, in its last weeks, it requires my constant presence; and, with other interests, will detain me here till after the middle of the month. I would gladly join hands with you about the green mound of your father, whom I knew and loved so well; and it would especially please me to make acquaintance with yourself, since you have proved so well your right to inherit your father's name. I trust that I may still have that pleasure, and that you will visit Concord before you return to Ohio; for Concord now claims, with your own Ashtabula County, the honor of protecting white men, at least, from Southern oppression; and you have many friends here who honor you, but have never seen you. I should like, too, to see Owen, whom I met some years since; and Jason, who, like yourself, is a stranger to me. Indeed, any of your family are now as kinsmen of mine, for your father, I think, loved me almost as a son, and I am sure I honored and loved him as a father. I look upon your celebration of the day as well-nigh the only one that will be properly made in the whole country. Most of us have no right to read the Declaration of Independence, for its magnificent periods are to us but `glittering generalities,' as a New England sophist used to say; but to the family of John Brown, it is the true charter of liberty to which your father has added some marginal notes....
I may, however, offer you a sentiment for your public dinner:—
Thomas Jefferson and John Brown—The one came from Virginia to write the Declaration of Independence, and the other went there to publish the best commentary on it. Posterity will forget neither, though Virginia forgets both.
Truly yours, F. B. Sanborn.
The following
vigorous and beautiful original hymn, written by Mr. Sanborn for this occasion,
was also read by the Secretary,
as it was not possible to arrange music for
it at the time:—
Eternal hills! that rise around
To guard the
consecrated ground;
Ye ancient woods that o'er us wave,
Oh, hear us! and
for aye record,
Till deeds redeem our plighted word,
The vows we offer at
the grave!
We swear, by him who lies below—
Whose death the justice,
sure and slow,
Of God's great law shall yet repay—
Ever to hold his memory
dear,
And follow him in that career
Where he, unfaltering, showed the
way.
Be ours the slave's neglected cause;
No golden bribes, no godless
laws,
Shall taint our heart or cheek or hand;
Firm to resist the tyrant's
power.
Swift to attack when dawns the hour,
For righteous Liberty we
stand.
Too well we love our father's fame,
Too keenly feel our
country's shame,
To vex with boasts this mountain air—
With pride we tell
our glories past,
On Thee our fears and cares we cast,
Just God! by Thee
our oaths we swear.
From a true friend of the cause I have the following:—
Boston, July 1, 1860.
Dear Sir:—I regret that pressing business engagements will prevent me from accepting your invitation `in behalf of the family of John Brown to be present at North Elba on the Fourth, to celebrate the anniversary of American Independence, and unite in re-affirming, over the grave of the Martyr of Virginia, the truth of the doctrines of the Declaration of Independence.' Yielding to no one in admiration and in veneration of the high moral and religious character, the self-sacrificing spirit, the heroic and unswerving devotion to the cause of freedom and humanity which marked the life of John Brown, it would afford me great pleasure to be
present on the above occasion, and to lend at least the sanction of my presence to the great principles which he so faithfully and fearlessly defended, and in the maintenance of which he cheerfully surrendered his valuable life.
Very truly yours. C. H. Brainard.
To James Redpath, Esq.
Mr. President:—There is another name to be spoken on this day—the name of one whose voice we had hoped to hear pour forth its burning utterances on this occasion. He is not with us; but in his place comes this missive, charged full of the fiery magnetism of his tropical nature. Among the first of the letters read, was one from a Douglass; the one I am about to read is from another of the same clan—not the Little Giant of Illinois, but the Black one of New York—Frederick Douglass:—
Rochester, June 29, 1860.
James Redpath, Esq: My Dear Sir:—Your kind note, inviting me to meet with yourself and other friends on the 4th of July, at North Elba, came into my hands only yesterday. Had it reached me only a day or two earlier, I certainly should have complied with it. Very gladly would I assemble with you and others on that revolutionary day, to do honor to the memory of one whom I regard as the man of this nineteenth century. Little, indeed, can you and I do to add lustre to his deathless fame.—
The principles of John Brown, attested by a life of spotless integrity and sealed by his blood, are self-vindicated. His name is covered with a glory so bright and enduring, as to require nothing at our hands to increase or perpetuate it. Only for our own sake, and that of enslaved and imbruted humanity, need we assemble. To have been acquainted with John Brown, shared his counsels, enjoyed his confidence, and sympathized with the great objects of his life and death, I esteem as among the highest privileges of my life. We do but honor ourselves in doing honor to him, for it implies the possession of qualities akin to his.
I have little hope of the freedom of the slave by peaceful means. A long course of peaceful slaveholding has placed the slaveholders be-yond the reach of moral and humane considerations. They have neither ears nor hearts for the appeals of justice and humanity. While the slave will tamely submit his neck to the yoke, his back to the lash, and his ankle to the fetter and chain, the Bible will be quoted, and learning invoked to justify slavery. The only penetrable point of a tyrant is the fear of death. The outcry that they make as to the danger of having their throats cut, is because they know they deserve to have them cut. The efforts of John Brown and his brave associates, though apparently unavailing, have done more to upset the logic and shake the security of slavery, than all other efforts in that direction for twenty years. The sleeping dust, over which yourself and friends propose to meet on the 4th, cannot be revived; but the noble principles and disinterested devotion which led John Brown to step serenely to the gallows and lay down his life, will never die. They are all the more potent for his death.
Not unwisely are the eyes and hearts of the American slaves and their friends turned to the lofty peaks of the Alleghanies [sic]. The innumerable glens, caves, ravines and rocks of those mountains, will yet be the hiding-places of hunted liberty. The eight-and-forty hours of John Brown's school in the mountains of Virginia, taught the slaves more than they couldhave otherwise learned in a half century. Even the mistake of remaining in the arsenal after the first blow was struck, may prove the key to future success. The tender regard which the dear old man evinced for the lives of the tyrants —and which should have secured him his life —will not be imitated by future insurgents.— Slaveholders are as insensible to magnanimity as to justice and the measure they mete must be meted to them again. My heart is with you.
Very truly, Fred'k Douglass.
[The Secretary then read an interesting paper from Henry D. Thoreau, which had been handed to Mr. Hinton at Concord while on his way to North Elba. We should have been pleased to publish it, but its length forbids.]
At the close of the reading, the President introduced W. F. M. Arny, Esq., of Kansas, to the meeting.
Mr. Arny spoke at length in favor of the resolutions, taking up each separately, and eloquently defending them. As he spoke of John Brown his voice was broken and tender, and his eyes were moist. He knew him seventeen years ago, while he (Mr. Arny) resided in Virginia. Capt. Brown came to that State from Ohio, to see if he could render aid to a friend in prison for assisting a fugitive slave. The record of that friendship, thus begun, was luminous with such deeds of self-sacrifice. I,continued the speaker, have known John Brown to give the last dollar from his scanty purse in Kansas, to Free State men whom he met in a worse condition. The life of him whose remains rest before us, is full and brimming with such deeds. The record of that life he has left us, a solitary mark of grandeur in an otherwise degenerate age. He, the speaker, was a Southerner, born in Virginia; the curse which rested there was a dishonor to the land of his birth. But a few days since, he had stood by the grave of Washington, the Father of his country; yet standing here on this rock, and looking upon the lowly, grass grown grave before him, he was prouder of his manhood, surer of the progress of the race, and possessed far more faith in the love of the Good Father, than when standing on the banks of the Potomac.
Mr. Arny proceeded to allude to the companions of John Brown. He spoke of the histories of those who fell at Harper's Ferry, most of whom he had known in Kansas, and extended a cordial welcome to those of the survivors of that fight who were in the gathering. In closing, he entered into a vindication of the position assumed by his friend, Thaddeus Hyatt, at Washington. He spoke of the positions assumed by himself and the other witnesses, who, under protest, testified before the Harper's Ferry Committee, showing how by it one portion of the designs of the Slave Propaganda was foiled, as was another defeated by John Brown, Jr., who with Ashtabula County at his back, refused to obey and was not troubled; by Mr. Sanborn, on whom the process of kidnapping was attempted, but forcibly resisted, first by personal means, then by legal; and lastly, by James Redpath, of whom it was known that not only were his words bullets, but that he keeps the veritable powder dry, and that his faith was not placed on much else but his own skill in defending himself. Mr. Redpath was let, as was John Brown, Jr., severely alone. Mr. Hyatt's position of endurance was equally as essential as these to the complete discomfiture of the foe. Never again would such an attempt upon the liberty of the citizen be made. The aristocrats of the Senate were routed. After the close of Mr. Arny's able speech, of which the above gives but a very imperfect idea, the question upon the adoption of the resolutions was put. On motion, the acquiescence of the people in the first resolution was signified by rising and standing silent and uncovered around the grave. The others of the series and the preamble, were adopted with three cheers.
Thaddeus Hyatt, Esq., then came forward in response to the call of the meeting. Mr. Hyatt is an invalid, and was quite feeble.—He, however, kept the audience earnestly listening to a speech of some twenty minutes' duration. We cannot give a report. His description of the transactions carried on in the jail showed those transactions to be horrible indeed. He also showed that, contrary to the compromise of 1850, of the violation of which, on the part of the North, the South was constantly complaining, the slave trade was carried on in the national capital, the jail being turned into a slave pen, the victims of which were generally men and women, seized by the police-kidnappers of the federal city, under the pretence of being fugitives from slavery, kept in prison until the jail fees run up largely, then carried to Alexandria, and placed in the traders' shambles. It was doubtless because of the knowledge he had gained that Mr. H. was discharged. He alluded to the investigations he was making into the legal status of slavery in Maryland, and predicted that the result would be the removal from under the accursed system of even the lower law props upon which it had so long stood.
John Brown, Jr., was loudly called for at the close of Mr. Hyatt's remarks. He came forward, and was greeted with loud applause. Mr. Brown is a very fine-looking, impressive man, dignified and intellectual in appearance. He spoke for about ten minutes, returning his thanks and that of the family for the presence of so many friends, on this occasion. He then alluded to the action consequent upon the Harper's Ferry Senate Committee, fully endorsing the course pursued by Mr. Hyatt, and administering a severe rebuke to the New York Tribune for its unjust and cowardly sneers at that gentleman's course.
Owen Brown was loudly called for, at the close of his brother's remarks, and made his appearance. Owen is a singularly eccentric appearing man; very florid complexion, auburn hair and beard, small oval face, nervous features, and keen eyes, wherein you see reflected a humorous but earnest, enthusiastic mind. He kept the assembly in a roar of laughter by his quaint speech and illustrations, which, however, had all the force of proverbs. His description of a modern politician was almost terrific in the force of its sarcastic humor and fiery disgust. One of his illustrations will serve to show his style:—`A politician in Congress always had a double twist in the belly of his speeches; he squinted both North and South, yet always kept looking a-head for a tall perch on the tree of office, just like a cat running a-top of a crooked fence, with a bull-dog on each side, and a tree in the far distance.' It is impossible to give any adequate idea of the speaker's style.— Philosophy, humor, fancy and bitter invective were all mingled, with gestures and contortions singularly appropriate to the matter.
A motion was made to adjourn.
Mr. Hinton came forward and said:—
Mr. President—Standing in the presence, on this anniversary, and looking on the grave of our beloved chieftain, I hold it not fitting that this gathering should pass away without our looking upon the face, and hearing the voice, of a representative of the race for whom this earth was rounded and this stone erected. The first blood shed for the American Idea was that of Crispus Attucks, a black man. John Brown died for that man's descendants, as he died for our parents. That the black man can fight for freedom we have ample evidence, both in the blood of Attucks, and that of Leary, Newby, Copeland and Green at Harper's Ferry and Charlestown. We have with us to-day one who bravely acted his part on that memorable occasion, and who, wearing that history as the proud mark of manhood, is worthy to stand on this rock and speak for his race. I allude to Osborne P. Anderson, of Chatham, C. W., but late of Harper's Ferry, and I trust that before we separate we may look upon him, as well as the faces of others of those men for whose persons the pirate-State of Virginia offers a reward of $1,500.
A Voice—`There are no Democrats here.'
Mr. Hinton—`And if there were, we have good revolvers and strong arms, wherewith to defend our friends.'
Mr. Anderson then came forward upon the stand. He is a tall, handsome mulatto, with thoughtful face, sadly earnest eyes, and an expression of intellectual power that impresses the observer strongly. He said, that this was the first occasion in his life when he felt that he could stand on a Fourth-of-July platform. That day to him had hitherto been a lie and a juggle. Thank God, it was no longer so! By the light of that grave's sacrifice, he knew the Declaration of Independence held more than `glittering generalities.' He had gone to Virginia not as a mulatto, but as a man. Thank God for the struggle! Costly as had been the sacrifice, it would yet amply be re-paid.
The 17th of October, the 2d and 16th of December, 1859, the 8th of March, 1860, and this summer day, would be forever blessed in the memories of men; their golden threads would be woven into the web of the future, irradiating its march, and lighting up the path of Liberty and Justice.
Francis J. Meriam was then introduced to the meeting. He said he was not there to speak, but only to say how glad he was to stand there a free man, and look into the friendly faces before him. After some other remarks, he closed by asking `How many of those present would protect him and his comrades from the bloodhounds of Virginia?'
`All of us!' was the hearty response.
...... Mr. M. made a few closing remarks, and retired.
On motion, the meeting then adjourned to the grove, about half a mile distant, where the table was laid.
The meeting was very earnest and enthusiastic, and, altogether, the demonstration a successful one. Good results for the slave will emanate there from.
[Douglass' Monthly, Rochester N.Y., Sept. 1860 ]
Other information
A Voice from Harper's Ferry.'
This is the title of a pamphlet just published by Osborne P. Anderson, giving a complete narrative of the events which transpired at Harper's Ferry, with incidents prior and sub subsequent to its capture by the noble John Brown and his men. Mr. Anderson is a young colored man, and the only man alive who was at the Ferry during the entire time, and is thus enabled to record the facts as they actually occurred. In his preface Mr. Anderson says:—`Much has been given as true that never happened; much has been omitted that should have been made known; many things have been left unsaid, because, up to within a short time, but two could say them—one of whom has been offered up a sacrifice to the Moloch, Slavery.' The other, being Mr. Anderson himself, he has undertaken to discharge that duty; and he has done it in a very modest and creditable manner. The narrative is published for his benefit, and no doubt will find ready purchasers. The Liberator contains an account of a recent meeting held in Boston by some of the most influential colored citizens of that city, for the purpose of expressing their approbation and rendering aid to Mr. Anderson. Something like $100 was raised for his benefit. Mr. Anderson was in this city last week, and while here disposed of quite a number of his books. The pamphlet is sold for 20 cents, and may be procured at Hall's news depot.
[Douglas Monthly, Rochester, N.Y., Feb. 1861]
—John Brown, Jr., has addressed a very glowing and touching letter to President Geffrard [sic ]of sublime sentiments and noble thoughts—expressive of his cordial appreciation of the sympathy and interest manifested by the Haytians for Capt. Brown and his earnest co workers in their efforts to establish Human Equality.
[Douglass' Monthly, Rochester N.Y., Sept. 1860]
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