Edmund Clarence Stedman

How Old Brown Took Harper's Ferry

John Brown in Kansas settled, like a steadfast Yankee farmer,
⁠Brave and godly, with four sons, all stalwart men of might.
There he spoke aloud for freedom, and the Border-strife grew warmer,
⁠Till the Rangers fired his dwelling, in his absence, in the night;
⁠And Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
Came homeward in the morning—to find his house burned down.

Then he grasped his trusty rifle and boldly fought for freedom;
⁠Smote from border unto border the fierce, invading band;
And he and his brave boys vowed—so might Heaven help and speed 'em!—
⁠They would save those grand old prairies from the curse that blights the land;
⁠And Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
Said, "Boys, the Lord will aid us!" and he shoved his ramrod down.

And the Lord did aid these men, and they labored day and even,
⁠Saving Kansas from its peril; and their very lives seemed charmed,
Till the ruffians killed one son, in the blessed light of Heaven,—
⁠In cold blood the fellows slew him, as he journeyed all unarmed;
⁠Then Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
Shed not a tear, but shut his teeth, and frowned a terrible frown!

Then they seized another brave boy,—not amid the heat of battle,
⁠But in peace, behind his ploughshare,—and they loaded him with chains,
And with pikes, before their horses, even as they goad their cattle,
⁠Drove him cruelly, for their sport, and at last blew out his brains;
⁠Then Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
Raised his right hand up to Heaven, calling Heaven's vengeance down.

And he swore a fearful oath, by the name of the Almighty,
⁠He would hunt this ravening evil that had scathed and torn him so;
He would seize it by the vitals; he would crush it day and night; he
⁠Would so pursue its footsteps, so return it blow for blow,
⁠That Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
Should be a name to swear by, in backwoods or in town!

Then his beard became more grizzled, and his wild blue eye grew wilder,
⁠And more sharply curved his hawk's-nose, snuffing battle from afar;
And he and the two boys left, though the Kansas strife waxed milder,
⁠Grew more sullen, till was over the bloody Border War,
⁠And Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
Had gone crazy, as they reckoned by his fearful glare and frown.

So he left the plains of Kansas and their bitter woes behind him,
⁠Slipt off into Virginia, where the statesmen all are born,
Hired a farm by Harper's Ferry, and no one knew where to find him,
⁠Or whether he'd turned parson, or was jacketed and shorn;
⁠For Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
Mad as he was, knew texts enough to wear a parson's gown.

He bought no ploughs and harrows, spades and shovels, and such trifles;
⁠But quietly to his rancho there came, by every train,
Boxes full of pikes and pistols, and his well-beloved Sharps rifles;
⁠And eighteen other madmen joined their leader there again.
⁠Says Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
"Boys, we've got an army large enough to march and take the town!

"Take the town, and seize the muskets, free the negroes and then arm them;
⁠Carry the County and the State, ay, and all the potent South.
On their own heads be the slaughter, if their victims rise to harm them—
⁠These Virginians! who believed not, nor would heed the warning mouth."
⁠Says Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
"The world shall see a Republic, or my name is not John Brown."

'T was the sixteenth of October, on the evening of a Sunday:
⁠"This good work," declared the captain, "shall be on a holy night!"
It was on a Sunday evening, and before the noon of Monday,
⁠With two sons, and Captain Stephens, fifteen privates—black and white,
⁠Captain Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
Marched across the bridged Potomac, and knocked the sentry down;

Took the guarded armory-building, and the muskets and the cannon;
⁠Captured all the county majors and the colonels, one by one;
Scared to death each gallant scion of Virginia they ran on,
⁠And before the noon of Monday, I say, the deed was done.
⁠Mad Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
With his eighteen other crazy men, went in and took the town.

Very little noise and bluster, little smell of powder made he;
⁠It was all done in the midnight, like the Emperor's coup d'état.
"Cut the wires! Stop the rail-cars! Hold the streets and bridges!" said he,
⁠Then declared the new Republic, with himself for guiding star,—
⁠This Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown;
And the bold two thousand citizens ran off and left the town.

Then was riding and railroading and expressing here and thither;
⁠And the Martinsburg Sharpshooters and the Charlestown Volunteers,
And the Shepherdstown and Winchester Militia hastened whither
⁠Old Brown was said to muster his ten thousand grenadiers.
⁠General Brown!
⁠Osawatomie Brown!!
Behind whose rampant banner all the North was pouring down.

But at last, 't is said, some prisoners escaped from Old Brown's durance,
⁠And the effervescent valor of the Chivalry broke out,
When they learned that nineteen madmen had the marvellous assurance—
⁠Only nineteen—thus to seize the place and drive them straight about;
⁠And Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
Found an army come to take him, encamped around the town.

But to storm, with all the forces I have mentioned, was too risky;
⁠So they hurried off to Richmond for the Government Marines,
Tore them from their weeping matrons, fired their souls with Bourbon whiskey,
⁠Till they battered down Brown's castle with their ladders and machines;
⁠And Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
Received three bayonet stabs, and a cut on his brave old crown.

Tallyho! the old Virginia gentry gather to the baying!
⁠In they rushed and killed the game, shooting lustily away;
And whene'er they slew a rebel, those who came too late for slaying,
⁠Not to lose a share of glory, fired their bullets in his clay;
⁠And Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
Saw his sons fall dead beside him, and between them laid him down.

How the conquerors wore their laurels; how they hastened on the trial;
⁠How Old Brown was placed, half dying, on the Charlestown court-house floor;
How he spoke his grand oration, in the scorn of all denial;
⁠What the brave old madman told them,—these are known the country o'er.
⁠"Hang Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,"
Said the judge, "and all such rebels!" with his most judicial frown.

But, Virginians, don't do it! for I tell you that the flagon,
⁠Filled with blood of Old Brown's offspring, was first poured by Southern hands;
And each drop from Old Brown's life-veins, like the red gore of the dragon,
⁠May spring up a vengeful Fury, hissing through your slave-worn lands!
⁠And Old Brown,
⁠Osawatomie Brown,
May trouble you more than ever, when you've nailed his coffin down!