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III The Watchman on the
Bridge 1 I WAS
twenty-siven
years old when Brown made his raid, and I was a watchman on the bridge
across
the Potomac. She was a covered wooden bridge, and the railroad trains
wint
through her, besides teams and people on foot. There were two of us
watchmen.
My partner would be on duty for twelve hours, and then I'd take my turn
for
twelve hours. I wint on at midnight and stayed on till noon. We had to
tind to
a switch, and at night I had to collect the tolls. A regular collector
took the
tolls in the daytime. Brown had
rinted a
farm on the Maryland side of the Potomac. I knew him as Captain John
Smith, and
he was as nice a man as you'd want to meet. He bought a horse and a
little
wagon, and I saw him daily comparatively speakin'. He'd come to the
town and go
back wid a box that had been shipped to him from the North. We found
out
afterward that those boxes had revolvers and Sharps's rifles and such
things in
'em. Brown 'peared to be very fri'ndly wid me, and he'd be shakin'
hands and
havin' a few words to say. He claimed he'd found a vein of silver in
the
mountains. I lived at
the
village of Sandy Hook about a mile down on the north side of the
Potomac. On
the October Sunday night that the raid began I got up at the usual
time, put on
me overcoat, for the air was right cool, and started for work. I
carried a
lantern, though there were stars in the sky, so the night wasn’t
disperate
dark. Me watch showed it was ten minutes past twelve o'clock when I
reached the
bridge. We had three or four oil lamps in the bridge to guide people
across,
and I seen that the lights was out, and it sthruck me there was
something
wrong. The
watch-box was
at the other end of the bridge, and I 'd walked three fourths of the
way across
when I saw two men wid blankets around their shoulders. They were
standin' at a
place where the bridge widened out, and where there was a seat at one
side wid
a banister at each end. One of the men stepped back out of the way, but
the
other stood there and said, "Halt!" I didn’t
know no
more what "Halt" meant than a hog does about a holiday, and I kep'
movin' on. Then he said, "Halt!" again, but I wint on till I got
close. I wasn’t
expectin'
to have no trouble, for I was p'aceable, and I was unarmed. I niver
carried a
revolver. If I was attacked I'd rather get a black eye than shoot a
man. I
didn’t believe in a revolver. I don't believe in 'em yet, and I don't
believe
in war. I seen enough of war and Shootin'. The man
had one of
thim pikes that Brown got to arm the nagurs, and a very wicked lookin'
weapon
it was. He gave me a jab in the side wid the handle, and I wint very
near
throwin' up. I come to a little, and I said: "What's wrong? I'm the
watchman on this bridge. What's the matter?" "We'll
watch
the bridge to-night," he said. Just then
I noticed
six or eight of thim pikes leanin' ag'in' the seat there, and the sight
of thim
made me frantic. "Come wid
me," the man said, but he didn’t say where he was goin' to bring me. He
reached down his left hand and got hold of the handle of me lantern.
"Come," he says. About that
time I
up wid me fist and hit him back of the jaw under his ear and knocked
him ag'in'
the seat. The lantern dropped and was smashed, and the light wint out.
I run,
and don't you forget it. Dark as it was in that bridge I wint at the
rate of
twelve miles an hour, no doubt. The other man shot at me when I passed
him, and
I lost me hat. Near the
end of the
bridge was a hotel, and the dure was always open for me. You see I
often used
to go there, just before the eastbound night express arrived, and warn
'em, so
whoever wanted to go on the train could get ready. I run to the hotel
and found
the clerk and a man named Horsey in the office. This Horsey was goin'
on the
express. I told 'em about the men on the bridge, and Horsey said:
"They're
some of the town people who want to test your pluck. They're jokin'
you." That made
me kind
of angry, but I soon cooled off, and then I wint to the depot. A very
big,
stout colored man named Haywood handled the baggage and slept in the
office
there. He was a free nagur and worth some sixteen or eighteen thousand
dollars.
I woke him up. He had a pistol wid a knife attached to the end of it,
and I
borrowed it from him and wint to the house where me partner lived. I
knocked at
the dure and called to his wife. She knew me voice, and she said, "Is
that
you, Mr. Higgins?" I asked
her was her
husband at home, and she said, "No." I didn’t
want to
scare the woman, and I said, "Well, I'll see him down town." Then I
wint right
back to the depot, and pretty soon the express come. I told the
conductor that
two men held the bridge, and I wouldn’t be responsible if the train
wint out
there. He was a tall, powerful man, and he hollered to the
baggage-master on
the train, "Let me have a lantern—" As soon as
he had
the lantern in his hand he told me to go wid him. I didn’t care about
goin',
but I wint, for I niver was a coward and I didn’t like to refuse. It
seemed
best though to keep a little behind him so if a bullet came our way
he'd get it
first. The baggage-master follered. We got onto the bridge, and bang
wint a
gun, but I suppose it was just fired in the air as a warnin'. "Boys,
what's
wrong?" the conductor says. "The town
is
taken," was the reply. "Advance no further." The
conductor told
'em who he was, and they said he could go on with his train, but he
didn’t want
to risk it. We had turned to leave the bridge when the baggage-master
picked up
something and looked at it by the light of the lantern. "Pat, here's
your
hat," he said, "and there's a hole in it." I put me
hand up to
me head and found blood in me hair. A bullet had just grazed the skin
on the
top of me head. I didn’t know I was hit at the time of the shootin' I
was that
bad skeered. It was a close shave. When the
passengers
learned that the train was goin' to stay there they got off and filled
up the
ticket office. Then Haywood, the colored man, wint out toward the
bridge
lookin' around, and the men there shot him through the body. He walked
back and
lay down on his couch in the depot. A doctor in the town had heard the
shootin', and he came to see what the trouble was. We had him look at
Haywood,
and he said the wounded man couldn’t live. Oh, poor feller! he suffered
awful. The train
stayed
there on the trestle till daylight in the morning. Then John Brown
himself came
and walked with the conductor ahead of the train across the bridge, and
the
conductor jumped on and proceeded. After I'd
watched
the train go I wint to see if there was anything more I could do for
Haywood.
"For God's sake, Mr. Higgins, will you go and get me a drink of
water?" he said. There had
been a
big stone pitcher full of water in the waiting-room, but the people
from the
train hadn’t left a drop in it. So I took the pitcher and wint down to
a pump
in the street and drew the water. As I was goin' back a man come out of
the
bridge eatin' a cracker, and he asked me very politely would I let the
men on
the bridge have a drink. I said, "Yes," and wint along wid him. He was the
one who
had shot at me, and I learned that his name was Thompson, and that the
man I
had hit was Oliver Brown. They had been reinforced by a chunky little
mulatto
who sat on the bench whittling a stick. I mistook the mulatto for a
white man
at first in the gloom of the bridge. Brown
said,
"You're the laddie buck who sthruck me here last night, ain't you?" I told him
I was. "Well, you
acted very impudent," he said. Then
Thompson said,
"I 'm proud that I didn’t kill or cripple you when you ran and I
fired." "What does
it
all mean?" I asked Oliver. He said,
"It's
a darky scrape." "Well,
where's
the darkies?" I asked. "I am
one," Oliver said; and Thompson said, "I am another"; but the
mulatto niver opened his mouth at all. Then I said: "For myself, I
ain't
rich enough to own a darky. I work twelve hours a day for a dollar." "Yes,"
Brown said, "I know these slave states are not as good as the free
states
for you working-men. We're goin' to free the blacks, and that will help
such as
you. There'll be blood shed, but it's not our object to hurt any one
who don't
take up arms against us." "I'm not
very
fond of fightin'," says I, "and I'm takin' this water over here to
the depot to give to a nagur that you shot." "It was
his
fault," Brown said. "He ought to have done as we told him to
do." I wint
along wid
the water. By this time the men in the town had begun to come to their
work in
the armory, and I could see a crowd of prisoners down there. The people
soon
became greatly excited over the state of affairs, and rumors flew far
and wide.
My wife got word of the raid, and she thought I'd lost an arm or a leg,
or
maybe was dead. So she leaves her four-months-old baby, and off she
starts to
find me. She passed the men on the bridge, and they put their hands to
their
hats very polite. After she
found me
and knew I was all right, then she wouldn’t go back alone wid herself.
Nothing
would do but I must go along, too. The baby needed her, so I wint. As
we
crossed the bridge I told Thompson I would be back in a few minutes.
You see,
it was me duty as watchman to look after things there. If I didn’t the
bridge
owners might discharge me. I walked
down the
road a ways toward Sandy Hook, and then I told me wife I must return.
She took
on cryin' and said she was sure I'd be killed or at least taken
prisoner. But I had
to go. It
was now about eight o'clock, and I remember the weather was kind of a
little
misty. As I wint along I could see a half dozen or more people comin'
down the
mountain on the Maryland side of the river, which was the side I was
on, and I
took notice some of 'em had guns. I waited for 'em at the entrance to
the bridge,
and I told 'em how I was obliged to go across, but that if they wint
they'd be
captured. Then I
left thim,
and soon I was back in the office at the depot. I was sittin' there,
watchin'
and condolin' to myself what was goin' to be when those fellers across
the
river fired on the men who held the bridge. Oliver and the other two
run like
sheep. But a bullet stopped Oliver, and Thompson halted and tried to
make a
treaty wid the men. They wouldn’t make any treaty, and they just tied
his
wrists together in front of him wid strong cord and took him to the
hotel,
where they held him a prisoner. The
colored man was
so panic-stricken that instead of goin' to the armory he ran and jumped
into
the arsenal yard. By and by, when he was tryin' to get from the arsenal
across
the street to the armory gate he was shot in the neck and fell dead. I
seen men
come along afterward and take out their knives and cut off a piece of
his ear
for a relic and put it in their pockets. He had no ears left by night. In the
middle of the
morning Stevens was shot. He was a fine-lookin' man, and it 'pears to
me he was
no coward. He fell behind the station warehouse. "O Lord! is there no
one
will take me out of here?" I heard him say. I wint to
where he
was and turned him over, and I saw he had a Colt's revolver in his
inside
pocket, and I took it. While I was stoopin' over him they fired on me
from the
engine house. The bullets sthruck the wall behind me, and pieces of the
brick
flew and hit me head. A lady in a building right across from the depot
called
out of a window, "Fall back, fall back!" and I hurried to shelter. My
goodness! the
excitement was terrible. The country people were flockin' in from all
directions. Men broke into the saloons and got drunk, and they wint to
the
arsenal and everybody had plenty of guns. They were firin' crossways,
and it's
my opinion they wounded some of thim-selves. The wonder is that more
were n't
hurt. In the
afternoon
the nagur at the depot died, and I wint to the hotel and told Beckham,
who was
the station-agent and the mayor of the town. I could see the tears come
in his
eyes he thought so much of that darky. Me 'n' him walked back to the
depot
office and looked at Haywood, and then Beckham told me to lock the
office and
put the key in me pocket. We wint along the trestle to the water-tank.
Says I:
"Squire, don't go any further. It ain't safe." He leaned over and looked around the end of the tank, and while he was lookin' a bullet sthruck him. He took a step forward and said, "Oh!" and fell on his face. They'd shot him through the heart, and he lay there quiet and niver quivered, I stood twinty minutes or so lookin' at the poor feller, afeared to get him. Then I returned to the depot. THE MOB IN THE TAVERN His death
all but
crazed the townspeople, and they made a rush in at the hotel to get
Thompson.
The landlord and Miss Foulke, his sister, fought hard for Thompson and
plead
and prayed for him. Tables and chairs were upset and there was an awful
racket.
The mob didn’t leave the hotel till they had the prisoner in their
possession.
They took him up to the depot platform at the entrance to the bridge. George
Chambers had
become the actin'-mayor, and he wanted me to go get a rope to hang
Thompson. In
thim days I didn’t care for Chambers or no man, and I wouldn’t go. Then
Chambers said
to Thompson: "I'll tell you what will save you. Give us a history of
the
Abolitionist proceedings that led to this insurrection, and we'll spare
you," But
Thompson niver
had a word to say. Chambers was a blood-thirsty feller, and he took a
revolver,
put it to Thompson's breast, and shot him. I always thought that was a
cowardly
act, and I niver liked Chambers so much afterward. They throwed the
body over
the wall, and it fell partly in the water and partly on the land, and
during
the day a good many men came and shot at it. That seemed brutal. The
carcass
laid there nearly all that week. After dark
some of
us wint to get Beckham. Guns were still bein' fired, and we didn’t like
to
expose ourselves. So I took hold of Beckham's feet and pulled him back
a little
till he was behind the tank. Then we lifted and carried him away. Finally I
wint home
to Sandy Hook, and about two o'clock that night the marines from
Washington got
off the cars there. They walked the rest of the way to Harper's Ferry,
and I
wint wid 'em. When it was daylight their commander, Colonel Lee, said
to the
people: "The first one of the citizens that fires a shot will be put
under
arrest. This is government property and we will take care of it." After a
while an
officer pulled out a white handkerchief and waved it up and down where
it could
be seen from the engine-house portholes. Then he wint and had a talk
wid
Captain Brown. He stayed not more than ten minutes and came back and
said:
"He will not surrender. It's old Osawatomie Brown." So they
got a long,
heavy ladder, and as many of the marines took hold of it as could, and
they ran
and rammed it ag'in' the big iron dure. That made an awful noise. At
the third
charge the dure wint in, and soon the raiders were all captured. They'd
have
been lynched by the citizens, and there'd niver have been a bit of a
trial if
the troops hadn’t been here to protect 'em. After
Brown was
hung I helped put his remains on the express at our depot for his wife
to take
North, and I couldn’t help thinkin' what a mistake he'd made. He seemed
a
sinsible man in most respects, but he was a maniac on this question of
slavery.
The effect of the raid was just the opposite of what he hoped, even on
the
slaves. He had killed a nagur here the first thing, and that shocked
thim. You
couldn’t get one of 'em out after dark till weeks and months had gone
by, they
were so skeered. Well, the
Monday of
John Brown's Raid bate anything I iver seen, and I seen desperate times
during
the war — bridges burnt and government buildings a-fire — but niver no
such
excitement as that day. It was a dreadful time. ________ 1
As I saw him he
was a very hearty, friendly old Irishman of alert mind and decided
opinions. We
spent an evening together in the little sitting-room of his home a
short
distance from Harper's Ferry. |