A PLEA FOR CAPTAIN JOHN BROWN
by Henry David Thoreau
1853
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 him 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 him, 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 his 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 and 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 did 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 tacties.
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 cockpit, "the gamest man be 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 Balaklava, 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 figure-heads
upon a bulk, 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 politicial
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 slaveholder, 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 Gessler, 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 Sharp's rifles, while he retained his faculty of speech- a Sharp'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 a 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,
Stevens, and Coppoc, 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 semihuman
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 re-creates 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
whose 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 the benefit of his fellow-man. It may be doubted if there were
as many more their equals in these respects in all the country- I speak
of his followers only- for their leader, no doubt, scoured the land far
and wide, seeking to swell his troop. These alone were ready to step between
the oppressor and the oppressed. Surely they were the very best men you
could select to be hung. That was the greatest compliment which this country
could pay them. They were ripe for her gallows. She has tried a long time,
she has hung a good many, but never found the right one before. When I
think of him, and his six sons, and his son-in-law, not to enumerate the
others, enlisted for this fight, proceeding coolly, reverently, humanely
to work, for months if not years, sleeping and waking upon it, summering
and wintering the thought, without expecting any reward but a good conscience,
while almost all America stood ranked on the other side- I say again that
it affects me as a sublime spectacle. If he had had any journal advocating
"his cause," any organ, as the phrase is, monotonously and wearisomely
playing the same old tune, and then passing round the hat, it would have
been fatal to his efficiency. If he had acted in any way so as to be let
alone by the government, he might have been suspected. It was the fact
that the tyrant must give place to him, or he to the tyrant, that distinguished
him from all the reformers of the day that I know. It was his peculiar
doctrine that a man has a perfect right to interfere by force with the
slaveholder, in order to rescue the slave. I agree with him. They who are
continually shocked by slavery have some right to be shocked by the violent
death of the slaveholder, but no others. Such will be more shocked by his
life than by his death. I shall not be forward to think him mistaken in
his method who quickest succeeds to liberate the slave. I speak for the
slave when I say that I prefer the philanthropy of Captain Brown to that
philanthropy which neither shoots me nor liberates me. At any rate, I do
not think it is quite sane for one to spend his whole life in talking or
writing about this matter, unless he is continuously inspired, and I have
not done so. A man may have other affairs to attend to. I do not wish to
kill nor to be killed, but I can foresee circumstances in which both these
things would be by me unavoidable. We preserve the so-called peace of our
community by deeds of petty violence every day. Look at the policeman's
billy and handcuffs! Look at the jail! Look at the gallows! Look at the
chaplain of the regiment! We are hoping only to live safely on the outskirts
of this provisional army. So we defend ourselves and our hen-roosts, and
maintain slavery. I know that the mass of my countrymen think that the
only righteous use that can be made of Sharp's rifles and revolvers is
to fight duels with them, when we are insulted by other nations, or to
hunt Indians, or shoot fugitive slaves with them, or the like. I think
that for once the Sharp's rifles and the revolvers were employed in a righteous
cause. The tools were in the hands of one who could use them. The same
indignation that is said to have cleared the temple once will clear it
again. The question is not about the weapon, but the spirit in which you
use it. No man has appeared in America, as yet, who loved his fellow-man
so well, and treated him so tenderly. He lived for him. He took up his
life and he laid it down for him. What sort of violence is that which is
encouraged, not by soldiers, but by peaceable citizens, not 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 saviour 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 a 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 wilfully 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 you 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.
THE END
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