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> Henry David Thoreau
> Works > A Plea for Captain John Brown
1859
A PLEA FOR CAPTAIN JOHN BROWN
by Henry David Thoreau
[Read to the citizens of Concord, Mass., Sunday Evening, October 30, 1859.]
I trust that you will pardon me for being here. I do not wish to force my
thoughts upon you, but I feel forced myself. Little as I know of Captain Brown,
I would fain do my part to correct the tone and the statements of the
newspapers, and of my countrymen generally, respecting his character and
actions. It costs us nothing to be just. We can at least express our sympathy
with, and admiration of, him and his companions, and that is what I now propose
to do.
First, as to his history. I will endeavor to omit, as much as possible, what
you have already read. I need not describe his person to you, for probably most
of you have seen and will not soon forget him. I am told that his grandfather,
John Brown, was an officer in the Revolution; that he himself was born in
Connecticut about the beginning of this century, but early went with his father
to Ohio. I heard him say that his father was a contractor who furnished beef to
the army there, in the war of 1812; that he accompanied him to the camp, and
assisted him in that employment, seeing a good deal of military life,--more,
perhaps, than if he had been a soldier; for he was often present at the councils
of the officers. Especially, he learned by experience how armies are supplied
and maintained in the field,--a work which, he observed, requires at least as
much experience and skill as to lead them in battle. He said that few persons
had any conception of the cost, even the pecuniary cost, of firing a single
bullet in war. He saw enough, at any rate, to disgust him with a military life;
indeed, to excite in his a great abhorrence of it; so much so, that though he
was tempted by the offer of some petty office in the army, when he was about
eighteen, he not only declined that, but he also refused to train when warned,
and was fined for it. He then resolved that he would never have anything to do
with any war, unless it were a war for liberty.
When the troubles in Kansas began, he sent several of his sons thither to
strengthen the party of the Free State men, fitting them out with such weapons
as he had; telling them that if the troubles should increase, and there should
be need of his, he would follow, to assist them with his hand and counsel. This,
as you all know, he soon after did; and it was through his agency, far more than
any other's, that Kansas was made free.
For a part of his life he was a surveyor, and at one time he was engaged in
wool-growing, and he went to Europe as an agent about that business. There, as
everywhere, he had his eyes about him, and made many original observations. He
said, for instance, that he saw why the soil of England was so rich, and that of
Germany (I think it was) so poor, and he thought of writing to some of the
crowned heads about it. It was because in England the peasantry live on the soil
which they cultivate, but in Germany they are gathered into villages, at night.
It is a pity that he did not make a book of his observations.
I should say that he was an old-fashioned man in respect for the
Constitution, and his faith in the permanence of this Union. Slavery he deemed
to be wholly opposed to these, and he was its determined foe.
He was by descent and birth a New England farmer, a man of great
common-sense, deliberate and practical as that class is, and tenfold more so. He
was like the best of those who stood at Concord Bridge once, on Lexington
Common, and on Bunker Hill, only he was firmer and higher principled than any
that I have chanced to hear of as there. It was no abolition lecturer that
converted him. Ethan Allen and Stark, with whom he may in some respects be
compared, were rangers in a lower and less important field. They could bravely
face their country's foes, but he had the courage to face his country herself,
when she was in the wrong. A Western writer says, to account for his escape from
so many perils, that he was concealed under a "rural exterior"; as if,
in that prairie land, a hero should, by good rights, wear a citizen's dress
only.
He did not go to the college called Harvard, good old Alma Mater as she is.
He was not fed on the pap that is there furnished. As he phrased it, "I
know no more of grammar than one of your calves." But he went to the great
university of the West, where he sedulously pursued the study of Liberty, for
which he had early betrayed a fondness, and having taken many degrees, he
finally commenced the public practice of Humanity in Kansas, as you all know.
Such were his humanities and not any study of grammar. He would have left a
Greek accent slanting the wrong way, and righted up a falling man.
He was one of that class of whom we hear a great deal, but, for the most
part, see nothing at all,--the Puritans. It would be in vain to kill him. He
died lately in the time of Cromwell, but he reappeared here. Why should he not?
Some of the Puritan stock are said to have come over and settled in New England.
They were a class that did something else than celebrate their forefathers' day,
and eat parched corn in remembrance of that time. They were neither Democrats
nor Republicans, but men of simple habits, straightforward, prayerful; not
thinking much of rulers who did not fear God, not making many compromises, nor
seeking after available candidates.
"In his camp," as one has recently written, and as I have myself
heard him state, "he permitted no profanity; no man of loose morals was
suffered to remain there, unless, indeed, as a prisoner of war. 'I would
rather,' said he, 'have the small-pox, yellow-fever, and cholera, all together
in my camp, than a man without principle.... It is a mistake, sir, that our
people make, when they think that bullies are the best fighters, or that they
are the fit men to oppose these Southerners. Give me men of good
principles,--God-fearing men,--men who respect themselves, and with a dozen of
them I will oppose any hundred such men as these Buford ruffians.'" He said
that if one offered himself to be a soldier under him, who was forward to tell
what he could or would do, if he could only get sight of the enemy, he had but
little confidence in him.
He was never able to find more than a score or so of recruits whom he would
accept, and only about a dozen, among them his sons, in whom he had perfect
faith. When he was here, some years ago, he showed to a few a little manuscript
book,--his "orderly book" I think he called it,--containing the names
of his company in Kansas, and the rules by which they bound themselves; and he
stated that several of them had already sealed the contract with their blood.
When some one remarked that, with the addition of a chaplain, it would have been
a perfect Cromwellian troop, he observed that he would have been glad to add a
chaplain to the list, if he could have found one who could fill that office
worthily. It is easy enough to find one for the United States army. I believe
that he had prayers in his camp morning and evening, nevertheless.
He was a man of Spartan habits, and at sixty was scrupulous about his diet at
your table, excusing himself by saying that he must eat sparingly and fare hard,
as became a soldier, or one who was fitting himself for difficult enterprises, a
life of exposure.
A man of rare common-sense and directness of speech, as of action; a
transcendentalist above all, a man of ideas and principles,--that was what
distinguished him. Not yielding to a whim or transient impulse, but carrying out
the purpose of a life. I noticed that he did not overstate anything, but spoke
within bounds. I remember, particularly, how, in his speech here, he referred to
what his family had suffered in Kansas, without ever giving the least vent to
his pent-up fire. It was a volcano with an ordinary chimney-flue. Also referring
to the deeds of certain Border Ruffians, he said, rapidly paring away his
speech, like an experienced soldier, keeping a reserve of force and meaning,
"They had a perfect right to be hung." He was not in the least a
rhetorician, was not talking to Buncombe or his constituents anywhere, had no
need to invent anything but to tell the simple truth, and communicate his own
resolution; therefore he appeared incomparably strong, and eloquence in Congress
and elsewhere seemed to me at a discount. It was like the speeches of Cromwell
compared with those of an ordinary king.
As for his tact and prudence, I will merely say, that at a time when scarcely
a man from the Free States was able to reach Kansas by any direct route, at
least without having his arms taken from him, he, carrying what imperfect guns
and other weapons he could collect, openly and slowly drove an ox-cart through
Missouri, apparently in the capacity of a surveyor, with his surveying compass
exposed in it, and so passed unsuspected, and had ample opportunity to learn the
designs of the enemy. For some time after his arrival he still followed the same
profession. When, for instance, he saw a knot of the ruffians on the prairie,
discussing, of course, the single topic which then occupied their minds, he
would, perhaps, take his compass and one of his sons, and proceed to run an
imaginary line right through the very spot on which that conclave had assembled,
and when he came up to them, he would naturally pause and have some talk with
them, learning their news, and, at last, all their plans perfectly; and having
thus completed his real survey he would resume his imaginary one, and run on his
line till he was out of sight.
When I expressed surprise that he could live in Kansas at all, with a price
set upon his head, and so large a number, including the authorities, exasperated
against him, he accounted for it by saying, "It is perfectly well
understood that I will not be taken." Much of the time for some years he
has had to skulk in swamps, suffering from poverty and from sickness, which was
the consequence of exposure, befriended only by Indians and a few whites. But
though it might be known that he was lurking in a particular swamp, his foes
commonly did not care to go in after him. He could even come out into a town
where there were more Border Ruffians than Free State men, and transact some
business, without delaying long, and yet not be molested; for, said he, "No
little handful of men were willing to undertake it, and a large body could not
be got together in season."
As for his recent failure, we do not know the facts about it. It was
evidently far from being a wild and desperate attempt. His enemy, Mr.
Vallandigham, is compelled to say, that "it was among the best planned
executed conspiracies that ever failed."
Not to mention his other successes, was it a failure, or did it show a want
of good management, to deliver from bondage a dozen human beings, and walk off
with them by broad daylight, for weeks if not months, at a leisurely pace,
through one State after another, for half the length of the North, conspicuous
to all parties, with a price set upon his head, going into a court-room on his
way and telling what he had done, thus convincing Missouri that it was not
profitable to try to hold slaves in his neighborhood?--and this, not because the
government menials were lenient, but because they were afraid of him.
Yet he did not attribute his success, foolishly, to "his star," or
to any magic. He said, truly, that the reason why such greatly superior numbers
quailed before him was, as one of his prisoners confessed, because they lacked a
cause,--a kind of armor which he and his party never lacked. When the time came,
few men were found willing to lay down their lives in defence of what they knew
to be wrong; they did not like that this should be their last act in this
world.
But to make haste to his last act, and its effects.
The newspapers seem to ignore, or perhaps are really ignorant of the fact,
that there are at least as many as two or three individuals to a town throughout
the North who think much as the present speaker does about him and his
enterprise. I do not hesitate to say that they are an important and growing
party. We aspire to be something more than stupid and timid chattels, pretending
to read history and our Bibles, but desecrating every house and every day we
breathe in. Perhaps anxious politicians may prove that only seventeen white men
and five negroes were concerned in the late enterprise; but their very anxiety
to prove this might suggest to themselves that all is not told. Why do they
still dodge the truth? They are so anxious because of a dim consciousness of the
fact, which they do not distinctly face, that at least a million of the free
inhabitants of the United States would have rejoiced if it had succeeded. They
at most only criticise the tactics. Though we wear no crape, the thought of that
man's position and probable fate is spoiling many a man's day here at the North
for other thinking. If any one who has seen him here can pursue successfully any
other train of thought, I do not know what he is made of. If there is any such
who gets his usual allowance of sleep, I will warrant him to fatten easily under
any circumstances which do not touch his body or purse. I put a piece of paper
and a pencil under my pillow, and when I could not sleep, I wrote in the dark.
On the whole, my respect for my fellow-men, except as one may outweigh a
million, is not being increased these days. I have noticed the cold-blooded way
in which newspaper writers and men generally speak of this event, as if an
ordinary malefactor, though one of unusual "pluck,"--as the Governor
of Virginia is reported to have said, using the language of the cock-pit,
"the gamest man he ever saw,"--had been caught, and were about to be
hung. He was not dreaming of his foes when the governor thought he looked so
brave. It turns what sweetness I have to gall, to hear, or hear of, the remarks
of some of my neighbors. When we heard at first that he was dead, one of my
townsmen observed that "he died as the fool dieth"; which, pardon me,
for an instant suggested a likeness in him dying to my neighbor living. Others,
craven-hearted, said disparagingly, that "he threw his life away,"
because he resisted the government. Which way have they thrown their lives,
pray?--such as would praise a man for attacking singly an ordinary band of
thieves or murderers. I hear another ask, Yankee-like, "What will he gain
by it?" as if he expected to fill his pockets by this enterprise. Such a
one has no idea of gain but in this worldly sense. If it does not lead to a
"surprise" party, if he does not get a new pair of boots, or a vote of
thanks, it must be a failure. "But he won't gain anything by it."
Well, no, I don't suppose he could get four-and-sixpence a day for being hung,
take the year round; but then he stands a chance to save a considerable part of
his soul,--and such a soul!--when you do not. No doubt you can get more in your
market for a quart of milk than for a quart of blood, but that is not the market
that heroes carry their blood to. Such do not know that like the seed is the
fruit, and that, in the moral world, when good seed is planted, good fruit is
inevitable, and does not depend on our watering and cultivating; that when you
plant, or bury, a hero in his field, a crop of heroes is sure to spring up. This
is a seed of such force and vitality, that it does not ask our leave to
germinate. The momentary charge at Balaclava, in obedience to a blundering
command, proving what a perfect machine the soldier is, has, properly enough,
been celebrated by a poet laureate; but the steady, and for the most part
successful, charge of this man, for some years, against the legions of Slavery,
in obedience to an infinitely higher command, is as much more memorable than
that, as an intelligent and conscientious man is superior to a machine. Do you
think that that will go unsung? "Served him right,"--"A dangerous
man,"--"He is undoubtedly insane." So they proceed to live their
sane, and wise, and altogether admirable lives, reading their Plutarch a little,
but chiefly pausing at that feat of Putnam, who was let down into a wolf's den;
and in this wise they nourish themselves for brave and patriotic deeds some time
or other. The Tract Society could afford to print that story of Putnam. You
might open the district schools with the reading of it, for there is nothing
about Slavery or the Church in it; unless it occurs to the reader that some
pastors are wolves in sheep's clothing. "The American Board of
Commissioners for Foreign Missions" even, might dare to protest against
that wolf. I have heard of boards, and of American boards, but it chances that I
never heard of this particular lumber till lately. And yet I hear of Northern
men, and women, and children, by families, buying a "life membership"
in such societies as these. A life-membership in the grave! You can get buried
cheaper than that. Our foes are in our midst and all about us. There is hardly a
house but is divided against itself, for our foe is the all but universal
woodenness of both head and heart, the want of vitality in man, which is the
effect of our vice; and hence are begotten fear, superstition, bigotry,
persecution, and slavery of all kinds. We are mere figureheads upon a hulk, with
livers in the place of hearts. The curse is the worship of idols, which at
length changes the worshipper into a stone image himself; and the New-Englander
is just as much an idolater as the Hindoo. This man was an exception, for he did
not set up even a political graven image between him and his God. A church that
can never have done with excommunicating Christ while it exists! Away with your
broad and flat churches, and your narrow and tall churches! Take a step forward,
and invent a new style of out-houses. Invent a salt that will save you, and
defend our nostrils. The modern Christian is a man who has consented to say all
the prayers in the liturgy, provided you will let him go straight to bed and
sleep quietly afterward. All his prayers begin with "Now I lay me down to
sleep," and he is forever looking forward to the time when he shall go to
his "long rest." He has consented to perform certain old-established
charities, too, after a fashion, but he does not wish to hear of any new-fangled
ones; he doesn't wish to have any supplementary articles added to the contract,
to fit it to the present time. He shows the whites of his eyes on the Sabbath,
and the blacks all the rest of the week. The evil is not merely a stagnation of
blood, but a stagnation of spirit. Many, no doubt, are well disposed, but
sluggish by constitution and by habit, and they cannot conceive of a man who is
actuated by higher motives than they are. Accordingly they pronounce this man
insane, for they know that they could never act as he does, as long as they are
themselves. We dream of foreign countries, of other times and races of men,
placing them at a distance in history or space; but let some significant event
like the present occur in our midst, and we discover, often, this distance and
this strangeness between us and our nearest neighbors. They are our Austrias,
and Chinas, and South Sea Islands. Our crowded society becomes well spaced all
at once, clean and handsome to the eye,--a city of magnificent distances. We
discover why it was that we never got beyond compliments and surfaces with them
before; we become aware of as many versts between us and them as there are
between a wandering Tartar and a Chinese town. The thoughtful man becomes a
hermit in the thoroughfares of the market-place. Impassable seas suddenly find
their level between us, or dumb steppes stretch themselves out there. It is the
difference of constitution, of intelligence, and faith, and not streams and
mountains, that make the true and impassable boundaries between individuals and
between states. None but the like-minded can come plenipotentiary to our court.
I read all the newspapers I could get within a week after this event, and I do
not remember in them a single expression of sympathy for these men. I have since
seen one noble statement, in a Boston paper, not editorial. Some voluminous
sheets decided not to print the full report of Brown's words to the exclusion of
other matter. It was as if a publisher should reject the manuscript of the New
Testament, and print Wilson's last speech. The same journal which contained this
pregnant news, was chiefly filled, in parallel columns, with the reports of the
political conventions that were being held. But the descent to them was too
steep. They should have been spared this contrast,--been printed in an extra, at
least. To turn from the voices and deeds of earnest men to the cackling of
political conventions! Office-seekers and speech-makers, who do not so much as
lay an honest egg, but wear their breasts bare upon an egg of chalk! Their great
game is the game of straws, or rather that universal aboriginal game of the
platter, at which the Indians cried hub, bub! Exclude the reports of religious
and political conventions, and publish the words of a living man. But I object
not so much to what they have omitted, as to what they have inserted. Even the
Liberator called it "a misguided, wild, and apparently
insane--effort." As for the herd of newspapers and magazines, I do not
chance to know an editor in the country who will deliberately print anything
which he knows will ultimately and permanently reduce the number of his
subscribers. They do not believe that it would be expedient. How then can they
print truth? If we do not say pleasant things, they argue, nobody will attend to
us. And so they do like some travelling auctioneers, who sing an obscene song,
in order to draw a crowd around them. Republican editors, obliged to get their
sentences ready for the morning edition, and accustomed to look at everything by
the twilight of politics, express no admiration, nor true sorrow even, but call
these men "deluded fanatics,"--"mistaken
men,"--"insane," or "crazed." It suggests what a sane
set of editors we are blessed with, not "mistaken men"; who know very
well on which side their bread is buttered, at least. A man does a brave and
humane deed, and at once, on all sides, we hear people and parties declaring,
"I didn't do it, nor countenance him to do it, in any conceivable way. It
can't be fairly inferred from my past career." I, for one, am not
interested to hear you define your position. I don't know that I ever was, or
ever shall be. I think it is mere egotism, or impertinent at this time. Ye
needn't take so much pains to wash your skirts of him. No intelligent man will
ever be convinced that he was any creature of yours. He went and came, as he
himself informs us, "under the auspices of John Brown and nobody
else." The Republican party does not perceive how many his failure will
make to vote more correctly than they would have them. They have counted the
votes of Pennsylvania & Co., but they have not correctly counted Captain
Brown's vote. He has taken the wind out of their sails,--the little wind they
had,--and they may as well lie to and repair. What though he did not belong to
your clique! Though you may not approve of his method or his principles,
recognize his magnanimity. Would you not like to claim kindredship with him in
that, though in no other thing he is like, or likely, to you? Do you think that
you would lose your reputation so? What you lost at the spile, you would gain at
the bung. If they do not mean all this, then they do not speak the truth, and
say what they mean. They are simply at their old tricks still. "It was
always conceded to him," says one who calls him crazy, "that he was a
conscientious man, very modest in his demeanor, apparently inoffensive, until
the subject of Slavery was introduced, when he would exhibit a feeling of
indignation unparalleled." The slave-ship is on her way, crowded with its
dying victims; new cargoes are being added in mid-ocean a small crew of
slaveholders, countenanced by a large body of passengers, is smothering four
millions under the hatches, and yet the politician asserts that the only proper
way by which deliverance is to be obtained, is by "the quiet diffusion of
the sentiments of humanity," without any "outbreak." As if the
sentiments of humanity were ever found unaccompanied by its deeds, and you could
disperse them, all finished to order, the pure article, as easily as water with
a watering-pot, and so lay the dust. What is that that I hear cast overboard?
The bodies of the dead that have found deliverance. That is the way we are
"diffusing" humanity, and its sentiments with it. Prominent and
influential editors, accustomed to deal with politicians, men of an infinitely
lower grade, say, in their ignorance, that he acted "on the principle of
revenge." They do not know the man. They must enlarge themselves to
conceive of him. I have no doubt that the time will come when they will begin to
see him as he was. They have got to conceive of a man of faith and of religious
principle, and not a politician or an Indian; of a man who did not wait till he
was personally interfered with or thwarted in some harmless business before he
gave his life to the cause of the oppressed. If Walker may be considered the
representative of the South, I wish I could say that Brown was the
representative of the North. He was a superior man. He did not value his bodily
life in comparison with ideal things. He did not recognize unjust human laws,
but resisted them as he was bid. For once we are lifted out of the trivialness
and dust of politics into the region of truth and manhood. No man in America has
ever stood up so persistently and effectively for the dignity of human nature,
knowing himself for a man, and the equal of any and all governments. In that
sense he was the most American of us all. He needed no babbling lawyer, making
false issues, to defend him. He was more than a match for all the judges that
American voters, or office-holders of whatever grade, can create. He could not
have been tried by a jury of his peers, because his peers did not exist. When a
man stands up serenely against the condemnation and vengeance of mankind, rising
above them literally by a whole body,--even though he were of late the vilest
murderer, who has settled that matter with himself,--the spectacle is a sublime
one,--didn't ye know it, ye Liberators, ye Tribunes, ye Republicans?--and we
become criminal in comparison. Do yourselves the honor to recognize him. He
needs none of your respect. As for the Democratic journals, they are not human
enough to affect me at all. I do not feel indignation at anything they may say.
I am aware that I anticipate a little,--that he was still, at the last accounts,
alive in the hands of his foes; but that being the case, I have all along found
myself thinking and speaking of him as physically dead. I do not believe in
erecting statues to those who still live in our hearts, whose bones have not yet
crumbled in the earth around us, but I would rather see the statue of Captain
Brown in the Massachusetts State-House yard, than that of any other man whom I
know. I rejoice that I live in this age, that I am his contemporary. What a
contrast, when we turn to that political party which is so anxiously shuffling
him and his plot out of its way, and looking around for some available slave
holder, perhaps, to be its candidate, at least for one who will execute the
Fugitive Slave Law, and all those other unjust laws which he took up arms to
annul! Insane! A father and six sons, and one son-in-law, and several more men
besides,--as many at least as twelve disciples,--all struck with insanity at
once; while the same tyrant holds with a firmer gripe than ever his four
millions of slaves, and a thousand sane editors, his abettors, are saving their
country and their bacon! Just as insane were his efforts in Kansas. Ask the
tyrant who is his most dangerous foe, the sane man or the insane? Do the
thousands who know him best, who have rejoiced at his deeds in Kansas, and have
afforded him material aid there, think him insane? Such a use of this word is a
mere trope with most who persist in using it, and I have no doubt that many of
the rest have already in silence retracted their words. Read his admirable
answers to Mason and others. How they are dwarfed and defeated by the contrast!
On the one side, half-brutish, half-timid questioning; on the other, truth,
clear as lightning, crashing into their obscene temples. They are made to stand
with Pilate, and Gesler, and the Inquisition. How ineffectual their speech and
action! and what a void their silence! They are but helpless tools in this great
work. It was no human power that gathered them about this preacher. What have
Massachusetts and the North sent a few sane representatives to Congress for, of
late years?--to declare with effect what kind of sentiments? All their speeches
put together and boiled down,--and probably they themselves will confess it,--do
not match for manly directness and force, and for simple truth, the few casual
remarks of crazy John Brown, on the floor of the Harper's Ferry
engine-house,--that man whom you are about to hang, to send to the other world,
though not to represent you there. No, he was not our representative in any
sense. He was too fair a specimen of a man to represent the like of us. Who,
then, were his constituents? If you read his words understandingly you will find
out. In his case there is no idle eloquence, no made, nor maiden speech, no
compliments to the oppressor. Truth is his inspirer, and earnestness the
polisher of his sentences. He could afford to lose his Sharpe's rifles, while he
retained his faculty of speech,--a Sharpe's rifle of infinitely surer and longer
range. And the New York Herald reports the conversation verbatim! It does not
know of what undying words it is made the vehicle. I have no respect for the
penetration of any man who can read the report of that conversation, and still
call the principal in it insane. It has the ring of a saner sanity than an
ordinary discipline and habits of life, than an ordinary organization, secure.
Take any sentence of it,--"Any questions that I can honorably answer, I
will; not otherwise. So far as I am myself concerned, I have told everything
truthfully. I value my word, sir." The few who talk about his vindictive
spirit, while they really admire his heroism, have no test by which to detect a
noble man, no amalgam to combine with his pure gold. They mix their own dross
with it. It is a relief to turn from these slanders to the testimony of his more
truthful, but frightened jailers and hangmen. Governor Wise speaks far more
justly and appreciatingly of him than any Northern editor, or politician, or
public personage, that I chance to have heard from. I know that you can afford
to hear him again on this subject. He says: "They are themselves mistaken
who take him to be madman.... He is cool, collected, and indomitable, and it is
but just to him to say, that he was humane to his prisoners.... And he inspired
me with great trust in his integrity as a man of truth. He is a fanatic, vain
and garrulous," (I leave that part to Mr. Wise,) "but firm, truthful,
and intelligent. His men, too, who survive, are like him.... Colonel Washington
says that he was the coolest and firmest man he ever saw in defying danger and
death. With one son dead by his side, and another shot through, he felt the
pulse of his dying son with one hand, and held his rifle with the other, and
commanded his men with the utmost composure, encouraging them to be firm, and to
sell their lives as dear as they could. Of the three white prisoners, Brown,
Stephens, and Coppic, it was hard to say which was most firm." Almost the
first Northern men whom the slaveholder has learned to respect! The testimony of
Mr. Vallandigham, though less valuable, is of the same purport, that "it is
vain to underrate either the man or his conspiracy.... He is the farthest
possible removed from the ordinary ruffian, fanatic, or madman." "All
is quiet at Harper's Ferry," say the journals. What is the character of
that calm which follows when the law and the slaveholder prevail? I regard this
event as a touchstone designed to bring out, with glaring distinctness, the
character of this government. We needed to be thus assisted to see it by the
light of history. It needed to see itself. When a government puts forth its
strength on the side of injustice, as ours to maintain slavery and kill the
liberators of the slave, it reveals itself a merely brute force, or worse, a
demoniacal force. It is the head of the Plug-Uglies. It is more manifest than
ever that tyranny rules. I see this government to be effectually allied with
France and Austria in oppressing mankind. There sits a tyrant holding fettered
four millions of slaves; here comes their heroic liberator. This most
hypocritical and diabolical government looks up from its seat on the gasping
four millions, and inquires with an assumption of innocence: "What do you
assault me for? Am I not an honest man? Cease agitation on this subject, or I
will make a slave of you, too, or else hang you." We talk about a
representative government; but what a monster of a government is that where the
noblest faculties of the mind, and the whole heart, are not represented. A
semi-human tiger or ox, stalking over the earth, with its heart taken out and
the top of its brain shot away. Heroes have fought well on their stumps when
their legs were shot off, but I never heard of any good done by such a
government as that. The only government that I recognize,--and it matters not
how few are at the head of it, or how small its army,--is that power that
establishes justice in the land, never that which establishes injustice. What
shall we think of a government to which all the truly brave and just men in the
land are enemies, standing between it and those whom it oppresses? A government
that pretends to be Christian and crucifies a million Christs every day!
Treason! Where does such treason take its rise? I cannot help thinking of you as
you deserve, ye governments. Can you dry up the fountains of thought? High
treason, when it is resistance to tyranny here below, has its origin in, and is
first committed by, the power that makes and forever recreates man. When you
have caught and hung all these human rebels, you have accomplished nothing but
your own guilt, for you have not struck at the fountain-head. You presume to
contend with a foe against whom West Point cadets and rifled cannon point not.
Can all the art of the cannon-founder tempt matter to turn against its maker? Is
the form in which the founder thinks he casts it more essential than the
constitution of it and of himself? The United States have a coffle of four
millions of slaves. They are determined to keep them in this condition; and
Massachusetts is one of the confederated overseers to prevent their escape. Such
are not all the inhabitants of Massachusetts, but such are they who rule and are
obeyed here. It was Massachusetts, as well as Virginia, that put down this
insurrection at Harper's Ferry. She sent the marines there, and she will have to
pay the penalty of her sin. Suppose that there is a society in this State that
out of its own purse and magnanimity saves all the fugitive slaves that run to
us, and protects our colored fellow-citizens, and leaves the other work to the
government, so-called. Is not that government fast losing its occupation, and
becoming contemptible to mankind? If private men are obliged to perform the
offices of government, to protect the weak and dispense justice, then the
government becomes only a hired man, or clerk, to perform menial or indifferent
services. Of course, that is but the shadow of a government who existence
necessitates a Vigilant Committee. What should we think of the Oriental Cadi
even, behind whom worked in secret a vigilant committee? But such is the
character of our Northern States generally; each has its Vigilant Committee.
And, to a certain extent, these crazy governments recognize and accept this
relation. They say, virtually, "We'll be glad to work for you on these
terms, only don't make a noise about it." And thus the government, its
salary being insured, withdraws into the back shop, taking the Constitution with
it, and bestows most of its labor on repairing that. When I hear it at work
sometimes, as I go by, it reminds me, at best, of those farmers who in winter
contrive to turn a penny by following the coopering business. And what kind of
spirit is their barrel made to hold? They speculate in stocks, and bore holes in
mountains, but they are not competent to lay out even a decent highway. The only
free road, the Underground Railroad, is owned and managed by the Vigilant
Committee. They have tunnelled under the whole breadth of the land. Such a
government is losing its power and respectability as surely as water runs out of
a leaky vessel, and is held by one that can contain it. I hear many condemn
these men because they were so few. When were the good and the brave ever in a
majority? Would you have had him wait till that time came?--till you and I came
over to him? The very fact that he had no rabble or troop of hirelings about him
would alone distinguish him from ordinary heroes. His company was small indeed,
because few could be found worthy to pass muster. Each one who there laid down
his life for the poor and oppressed was a picked man, culled out of many
thousands, if not millions; apparently a man of principle, of rare courage, and
devoted humanity; ready to sacrifice his life at any moment for so much by
laymen as by ministers of the Gospel, not so much by the fighting sects as by
the Quakers, and not so much by Quaker men as by Quaker women? This event
advertises me that there is such a fact as death,--the possibility of a man's
dying. It seems as if no man had ever died in America before; for in order to
die you must first have lived. I don't believe in the hearses, and palls, and
funerals that they have had. There was no death in the case, because there had
been no life; they merely rotted or sloughed off, pretty much as they had rotted
or sloughed along. No temple's veil was rent, only a hole dug somewhere. Let the
dead bury their dead. The best of them fairly ran down like a clock.
Franklin,--Washington,--they were let off without dying; they were merely
missing one day. I hear a good many pretend that they are going to die; or that
they have died, for aught that I know. Nonsense! I'll defy them to do it. They
haven't got life enough in them. They'll deliquesce like fungi, and keep a
hundred eulogists mopping the spot where they left off. Only half a dozen or so
have died since the world began. Do you think that you are going to die, sir?
No! there's no hope of you. You haven't got your lesson yet. You've got to stay
after school. We make a needless ado about capital punishment,--taking lives,
when there is no life to take. Memento mori! We don't understand that sublime
sentence which some worthy got sculptured on his gravestone once. We've
interpreted it in a grovelling and snivelling sense; we've wholly forgotten how
to die. But be sure you do die nevertheless. Do your work, and finish it. If you
know how to begin, you will know when to end. These men, in teaching us how to
die, have at the same time taught us how to live. If this man's acts and words
do not create a revival, it will be the severest possible satire on the acts and
words that do. It is the best news that America has ever heard. It has already
quickened the feeble pulse of the North, and infused more and more generous
blood into her veins and heart, than any number of years of what is called
commercial and political prosperity could. How many a man who was lately
contemplating suicide has now something to live for! One writer says that
Brown's peculiar monomania made him to be "dreaded by the Missourians as a
supernatural being." Sure enough, a hero in the midst of us cowards is
always so dreaded. He is just that thing. He shows himself superior to nature.
He has a spark of divinity in him. "Unless above himself he can Erect
himself, how poor a thing is man!" Newspaper editors argue also that it is
a proof of his insanity that he thought he was appointed to do this work which
he did,--that he did not suspect himself for a moment! They talk as if it were
impossible that a man could be "divinely appointed" in these days to
do any work whatever; as if vows and religion were out of date as connected with
any man's daily work; as if the agent to abolish slavery could only be somebody
appointed by the President, or by some political party. They talk as if a man's
death were a failure, and his continued life, be it of whatever character, were
a success. When I reflect to what a cause this man devoted himself, and how
religiously, and then reflect to what cause his judges and all who condemn him
so angrily and fluently devote themselves, I see that they are as far apart as
the heavens and earth are asunder. The amount of it is, our "leading
men" are a harmless kind of folk, and they know well enough that they were
not divinely appointed, but elected by the votes of their party. Who is it whose
safety requires that Captain Brown be hung? Is it indispensable to any Northern
man? Is there no resource but to cast this man also to the Minotaur? If you do
not wish it, say so distinctly. While these things are being done, beauty stands
veiled and music is a screeching lie. Think of him,--of his rare
qualities!--such a man as it takes ages to make, and ages to understand; no mock
hero, nor the representative of any party. A man such as the sun may not rise
upon again in this benighted land. To whose making went the costliest material,
the finest adamant; sent to be the redeemer of those in captivity; and the only
use to which you can put him is to hang him at the end of a rope! You who
pretend to care for Christ crucified, consider what you are about to do to him
who offered himself to be the savior of four millions of men. Any man knows when
he is justified, and all the wits in the world cannot enlighten him on that
point. The murderer always knows that he is justly punished; but when a
government takes the life of a man without the consent of his conscience, it is
an audacious government, and is taking a step towards its own dissolution. Is it
not possible that an individual may be right and a government wrong? Are laws to
be enforced simply because they were made? or declared by any number of men to
be good, if they are not good? Is there any necessity for a man's being a tool
to perform a deed of which his better nature disapproves? Is it the intention of
law-makers that good men shall be hung ever? Are judges to interpret the law
according to the letter, and not the spirit? What right have you to enter into a
compact with yourself that you will do thus or so, against the light within you?
Is it for you to make up your mind,--to form any resolution whatever,--and not
accept the convictions that are forced upon you, and which ever pass your
understanding? I do not believe in lawyers, in that mode of attacking or
defending a man, because you descend to meet the judge on his own ground, and,
in cases of the highest importance, it is of no consequence whether a man breaks
a human law or not. Let lawyers decide trivial cases. Business men may arrange
that among themselves. If they were the interpreters of the everlasting laws
which rightfully bind man, that would be another thing. A counterfeiting
law-factory, standing half in a slave land and half in free! What kind of laws
for free men can you expect from that? I am here to plead his cause with you. I
plead not for his life, but for his character,--his immortal life; and so it
becomes your cause wholly, and is not his in the least. Some eighteen hundred
years ago Christ was crucified; this morning, perchance, Captain Brown was hung.
These are the two ends of a chain which is not without its links. He is not Old
Brown any longer; he is an angel of light. I see now that it was necessary that
the bravest and humanest man in all the country should be hung. Perhaps he saw
it himself. I almost fear that I may yet hear of his deliverance, doubting if a
prolonged life, if any life, can do as much good as his death.
"Misguided"! "Garrulous"! "Insane"!
"Vindictive"! So ye write in your easy-chairs, and thus he wounded
responds from the floor of the Armory, clear as a cloudless sky, true as the
voice of nature is: "No man sent me here; it was my own prompting and that
of my Maker. I acknowledge no master in human form." And in what a sweet
and noble strain he proceeds, addressing his captors, who stand over him:
"I think, my friends, you are guilty of a great wrong against God and
humanity, and it would be perfectly right for any one to interfere with you so
far as to free those you willfully and wickedly hold in bondage." And,
referring to his movement: "It is, in my opinion, the greatest service a
man can render to God." "I pity the poor in bondage that have none to
help them; that is why I am here; not to gratify any personal animosity,
revenge, or vindictive spirit. It is my sympathy with the oppressed and the
wronged, that are as good as you, and as precious in the sight of God." You
don't know your testament when you see it. "I want you to understand that I
respect the rights of the poorest and weakest of colored people, oppressed by
the slave power, just as much as I do those of the most wealthy and
powerful." "I wish to say, furthermore, that you had better, all you
people at the South, prepare yourselves for a settlement of that question, that
must come up for settlement sooner than your are prepared for it. The sooner you
are prepared the better. You may dispose of me very easily. I am nearly disposed
of now; but this question is still to be settled,--this negro question, I mean;
the end of that is not yet." I foresee the time when the painter will paint
that scene, no longer going to Rome for a subject; the poet will sing it; the
historian record it; and, with the Landing of the Pilgrims and the Declaration
of Independence, it will be the ornament of some future national gallery, when
at least the present form of slavery shall be no more here. We shall then be at
liberty to weep for Captain Brown. Then, and not till then, we will take our
revenge. |