Diary of 1st Lieutenant Joseph Stockton, September 30, 1862

For the past ten days there was nothing of particular interest. Quite a number of men are sick. I was in the hospital today seeing my men and while there one of Co. C men was dying. He was delirious and wanted his gun that he might take his place in the ranks of his company. Poor fellow, before tomorrow's sun he will be marching with that country's host that have already gone before. Some six or eight others have already died but none as yet from my company. We came near having a large fire the other day, but owing to the exertion of the guard under the command of my 1st Lieutenant Randall, it was put out. He was complimented on dress parade for his courage. Some days we are required to go to church which is held by the men being drawn up in a square and our Chaplain Barnes discourses in the center. As we have a number of good singers the music goes off very well, but there is a great deal of opposition to church on the part of the men, some being Catholics and one a Jew. In my company are two Germans who are atheists so there is quite a mixture. On Sunday last, sixty of the men marched down to the church in the city and took communion. Our camp life promises to be tedious in some respects but we are kept busy in batallion and company drills. Colonel Starring is very proficient in the formations.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 2-3

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, August 19, 1862

HUDSON CAMP GROUNDS. I have enlisted! Joined the Army of Uncle Sam for three years, or the war, whichever may end first. Thirteen dollars per month, board, clothes and travelling expenses thrown in. That's on the part of my Uncle. For my part, I am to do, I hardly know what, but in a general way understand I am to kill or capture such part of the Rebel Army as comes in my way.

I wonder what sort of a soldier I will make; to be honest about it, I don't feel much of that eagerness for the fray I am hearing so much of about me.

It seems to me it is a serious sort of business I have engaged in. I was a long time making up my mind about it. This one could go, and that one, and they ought to, but with me, some way it was different. There was so much I had planned to do, and to be. I was needed at home, etc., etc. So I would settle the question for a time, only to have it come up to be reasoned away again, and each time my reasons for not taking my part in the job seemed less reasonable. Finally I did the only thing I could respect myself for doing, went to Millerton, the nearest recruiting station, and enlisted.

I then threw down my unfinished castles, went around and bid my friends good-bye, and had a general settling up of my affairs, which, by the way, took but little time. But I never before knew I had so many friends. Everyone seemed to be my friend. A few spoke encouragingly, but the most of them spoke and acted about as I would expect them to, if I were on my way to the gallows. Pity was so plainly shown that when I had gone the rounds, and reached home again, I felt as if I had been attending my own funeral. Poor old father and mother! They had expected it, but now that it had come they felt it, and though they tried hard, they could not hide from me that they felt it might be the last they would see of their baby.

Then came the leaving it all behind. I cannot describe that. The good-byes and the good wishes ring in my ears yet. I am not myself. I am some other person. My surroundings are new, the sights and sounds about me are new, my aims and ambitions are new;—that is if I have any. I seem to have reached the end. I can look backwards, but when I try to look ahead it is all a blank. Right here let me say, God bless the man who wrote "Robert Dawson," and God bless the man who gave me the book. "Only a few drops at a time, Robert." The days are made of minutes, and I am only sure of the one I am now living in. Take good care of that and cross no bridges until you come to them.

I have promised to keep a diary, and I am doing it. I have also promised that it should be a truthful account of what I saw and what I did. I have crawled off by myself and have been scribbling away for some time, and upon reading what I have written I find it reads as if I was the only one. But I am not. There are hundreds and perhaps thousands here, and I suppose all could, if they cared to, write just such an experience as I have. But no one else seems foolish enough to do it. I will let this stand as a preface to my diary, and go on to say that we, the first installment of recruits from our neighborhood, gathered at Amenia, where we had a farewell dinner, and a final handshake, after which we boarded the train and were soon at Ghent, where we changed from the Harlem to the Hudson & Berkshire R. R., which landed us opposite the gates of the Hudson Fair Grounds, about 4 P. M. on the 14th. We were made to form in line and were then marched inside, where we found a lot of rough board shanties, such as are usually seen on country fair grounds, and which are now used as offices, and are full of bustle and confusion. After a wash-up, we were taken to a building which proved to be a kitchen and dining room combined. Long pine tables, with benches on each side, filled the greater part of it, and at these we took seats and were served with good bread and fair coffee, our first meal at Uncle Sam's table, and at his expense. After supper we scattered, and the Amenia crowd brought up at the Miller House in Hudson. We took in some of the sights of the city and then put up for the night.

The next morning we had breakfast and then reported at the camp grounds ready for the next move, whatever that might be. We found crowds of people there, men, women and children, which were fathers and mothers, wives and sweethearts, brothers and sisters of the men who have enlisted from all over Dutchess and Columbia counties. Squads of men were marching on the race track, trying to keep step with an officer who kept calling out "Left, Left, Left," as his left foot hit the ground, from which I judged he meant everyone else should put his left foot down with his. We found these men had gone a step further than we. They had been examined and accepted, but just what that meant none of us exactly knew. We soon found out, however, Every few minutes a chap came out from a certain building and read from a book, in a loud voice, the names of two men. These would follow him in, be gone a little while and come out, when the same performance would be repeated. My name and that of Peter Carlo, of Poughkeepsie, were called together, and in we went. We found ourselves in a large room with the medical examiner and his clerks. His salutation, as we entered, consisted of the single word, "Strip." We stripped and were examined just as a horseman examines a horse he is buying. He looked at our teeth and felt all over us for any evidence of unsoundness there might be. Then we were put through a sort of gymnastic performance, and told to put on our clothes. We were then weighed and measured, the color of our eyes and hair noted, also our complexion, after which another man came and made us swear to a lot of things, most of which I have forgotten already. But as it was nothing more than I expected to do without swearing I suppose it makes no difference.

The rest of the day we visited around, getting acquainted and meeting many I had long been acquainted with. In the afternoon the camp ground was full of people, and as night began to come, and they began to go, the good-byes were many and sad enough. I am glad my folks know enough to stay away. That was our first night in camp. After we came from the medical man, we were no longer citizens, but just soldiers. We could not go down town as we did the night before. This was Saturday night, August 17th. We slept but little, at least I did not. A dozen of us had a small room, a box stall, in one of the stables, just big enough to lie down in. The floor looked like pine, but it was hard, and I shall never again call pine a soft wood, at least to lie on. If one did fall asleep he was promptly awakened by some one who had not, and by passing this around, such a racket was kept up that sleep was out of the question. I for one was glad the drummer made a mistake and routed us out at five o'clock instead of six, as his orders were. We shivered around until roll-call and then had breakfast. We visited together until dinner. Beef and potatoes, bread and coffee, and plenty of it. Some find fault and some say nothing, but I notice that each gets away with all that's set before him. In the afternoon we had preaching out of doors, for no building on the grounds would hold us. A Rev. Mr. Parker preached, a good straight talk, no big words or bluster, but a plain man-to-man talk on a subject that should concern us now, if it never did before. I for one made some mighty good resolutions, then and there. Every regiment has a chaplain, I am told, and I wish ours could be this same Mr. Parker. The meeting had a quieting effect on all hands. There was less swearing and less noise and confusion that afternoon than at any time before. After supper the question of bettering our sleeping accommodations came up, and in spite of the good resolutions above recorded I helped steal some hay to sleep on. We made up our minds that if our judge was as sore as we were he would not be hard on us. We spread the hay evenly over the floor and lay snug and warm, sleeping sound until Monday morning, the 18th.

The mill of the medical man kept on grinding and batches of men were sworn in every little while. Guards were placed at the gates, to keep us from going down town. I was one of the guards, but was called off to sign a paper and did not go back. Towards night we had to mount guard over our hay. Talk about "honor among thieves," what was not stolen before we found it out, was taken from under us while we were asleep, and after twisting and turning on the bare floor until my aching bones woke me, I got up and helped the others express themselves, for there was need of all the cuss words we could muster to do the subject justice. But that was our last night in those quarters.

The next day the new barracks were finished and we took possession. They are long narrow buildings, about 100 feet by 16, with three tiers of bunks on each side, leaving an alley through the middle, and open at each end. The bunks are long enough for a tall man and wide enough for two men provided they lie straight, with a board in front to keep the front man from rolling out of bed. There are three buildings finished, and each accommodates 204 men. We were not allowed either hay or straw for fear of fire. As we only had our bodies to move, it did not take long to move in. Those from one neighborhood chose bunks near together, and there was little quarrelling over choice. In fact one is just like another in all except location. Walter Loucks and I got a top berth at one end, so we have no trouble in finding it, as some do who are located near the middle. These barracks, as they are here called, are built close together, and ordinary conversation in one can be plainly heard in the others. Such a night as we had, story-telling, song-singing, telling what we would do if the Rebs attacked us in the night, with now and then a quarrel thrown in, kept us all awake until long after midnight. There was no getting lonesome, or homesick. No matter what direction one's thought might take, they were bound to be changed in a little while, and so the time went on. Perhaps some one would start a hymn and others would join in, and just as everything was going nicely, a block of wood, of which there were plenty lying around, would come from no one knew where, and perhaps hit a man who was half asleep. Then the psalm singing would end up in something quite different, and for awhile one could almost taste brimstone. I heard more original sayings that night than in all my life before, and only that the boards were so hard, and my bones ached so badly, I would have enjoyed every minute of it.

But we survived the night, and were able to eat everything set before us, when morning and breakfast time came. After breakfast we had our first lesson in soldiering, that is, the men of what will be Captain Bostwick's company, if he succeeds in filling it, and getting his commission, did. A West Point man put us through our paces. We formed in line on the race track, and after several false starts got going, bringing our left feet down as our instructor called out, "Left, Left," etc. A shower in the night had left some puddles on the track, and the first one we came to some went around and some jumped across, breaking the time and step and mixing up things generally. We were halted, and as soon as the captain could speak without laughing, he told us what a ridiculous thing it was for soldiers to dodge at a mud puddle. After a turn at marching, or keeping step with each other, he explained very carefully to us the "position of a soldier," telling how necessary it was that we learn the lesson well, for it would be of great use to us hereafter. He repeated it, until every word had time to sink in. "Heels on the same line, and as near together as the conformation of the man will permit. Knees straight, without stiffness. Body erect on the hips, and inclining a little forward. Arms hanging naturally at the sides, the little finger behind the seam of the pantaloons. Shoulders square to the front. Head erect, with the eyes striking the ground at the distance of fifteen paces." Every bone in my body ached after a little of this, and yet our instructor told us this is the position in which a well-drilled soldier can stand for the longest time and with the greatest ease. This brings my diary up to this date and I must not let it get behind again. There is so much to write about, it takes all my spare time; but now I am caught up, I will try and keep so.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 1-7

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, Sunday, August 31, 1862

Spent the day in camp and a very quiet day at that. A paper has been circulated among us asking that the Rev. Mr. Parker, who preached for us once, be sent with us as chaplain. I understand every regiment has a chaplain (a minister) to look out for the spiritual welfare of the regiment. Judging from this one, they must find plenty to do.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 13

Marian Brown Hand to John Brown, November 23, 1859

Rawsonville, Nov. 23.

My dear Brother John: If I have not been first to come forward to express my sympathy for you, in this your hour of trial, it was not because I did not feel very deeply; but whenever I undertake to give expression to my feelings, words are inadequate, and I find myself driven away from earth in thought to find consolation; and I rejoice that there is One seeth as man cannot see. O, my brother, if I could say any thing that would help to cheer thine heart or buoy up your spirits, I should be most happy. You say in your letter to Jeremiah that the time may come when we will not be ashamed to own our brother John. Do not let the evil spirit suggest such a thought as this to mar your peace. No! I rejoice that a brother of mine is accounted worthy to suffer and die in His cause, and I feel myself impelled to cry out, "The Lord reigneth; let the earth rejoice;" and, as you, like our Heavenly Master, have been a "Man of Sorrows, and acquainted with grief," I do pray that you may be able to forgive your enemies, and to pray for them, as Stephen of old did, "Lord, lay not this sin to their charge."

O, read the 53d chapter of Isaiah, and may it comfort and sustain you as it has me. O, "fear not them that kill the body and have not power to kill the soul." I feel that you will be sustained in every conflict. Let it cheer you that thousands of Christians are offering prayer to God daily and hourly in your behalf, and that God will get honor and glory in the finale of the matter. I received a letter yesterday from her that was Harriett O——, saying, "Tell your brother how deeply I feel and pray for him in these his days of trial, that God will be his friend and support to the last." Sister D—— would unite with me in this, if she were here; for it is the first thing thought of when we meet — How shall we express our sympathy for him? What can we say that will add one ray of comfort? I shall write to Mary, for my own widowed heart can in some measure realize how bitter is the cup of which she must drink. I should dearly love to receive a few lines, at least, from you. My children send their sympathy and love; and now, dear brother, God be with you, is the prayer of your affectionate sister.

Marian S. H.

Please receive what mother has written as coming from myself also; and may God be with you and sustain you in all your trials. I can say no more.

Your affectionate nephew,

A. K. H.¹

_______________

* Half sister of John Brown, daughter of Owen Brown and Sally Root.

¹ Addison K. Hand, son of Marian Brown & Titus H. Hand.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 429-30

Rev. Luther Humphrey* to John Brown, November 12, 1859

Windham, Portage Co., Ohio, Nov. 12.

My Dear Cousin: I have just completed the attentive perusal of the account published in the New York Tribune of November 5, of your trial and sentence to be hung on the 2d December.

Never before did I read such a sentence upon any relative of mine. From their own witnesses I cannot see any ground why you should be sentenced to death for a single one of the counts presented in your indictment. You may have one thing to comfort you under all your afflictions and sorrows: "The Lord reigns;" and He will cause the wrath of man to praise him, and the remainder of wrath He will restrain. He knows well what were your motives in what you have done; and whether it was the best course or not, he will overrule it all for his glory. The Bible throughout condemns oppression in all its forms, and is on the side of the oppressed, and their sighs and groanings have come up before him, and he has seen all their tears. Though man may not be able to deliver those who are in bonds, yet God can do it with perfect ease, and he has taken the matter into his own hands, and he will certainly accomplish it. The prophet Isaiah was directed to say to the people, "There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked. Cry aloud; spare not; lift up thy voice like a trumpet; and show my people their transgressions, and the house of Jacob their sins. Is not this the fast that I have chosen, to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke? Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house? When thou seest the naked, that thou cover him, and that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh?"

He who hath made of one blood all nations of men to dwell on the face of the earth sent his servants Moses and Aaron to Pharaoh, king of Egypt, saying, "Thus saith the Lord God of the Hebrews, Let my people go, that they may serve me; for I will at this time send all my plagues upon thine heart, and upon thy servants, and upon thy people, that thou mayest know there is none like me in all the earth." Pharaoh said in the pride and stoutness of his heart, "Who is the Lord, that I should obey his voice to let Israel go? I know not the Lord; neither will I let Israel go." So may the wicked slaveholders of the South say respecting those whom they cruelly hold in bondage; but the same king who delivered the children of Israel from Egyptian bondage will surely deliver those who are oppressed in our own country, and it will not be in the united power of earth and hell to prevent their deliverance. God will accomplish it in his own good time and way. We may well exclaim with Jefferson, "I tremble for my country when I remember that God is just."

You, my dear sir, may be called to die in the cause of liberty, as your beloved sons have been caused to give up their lives; but, if so, I believe your and their blood will "cry unto the Lord from the ground." If you are really a child of God, you will soon be where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest; where all things work together for good. Christ is saying to you, "What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." I fully believe what the kind Quaker woman¹ wrote you, "Thousands pray for thee every day. Posterity will do thee justice." Should they put you to death, they will not only have to wade through the blood of those who have been cruelly murdered in the same cause, but also through the prayers of God's people, which will not be unheeded or disregarded by the hearer of prayer. I am exceeding thankful that the jailer is so kind to you, and that you are permitted to occupy yourself in writing and reading. I doubt not but you now value the Bible far above all other reading. May it do you good! It will be exceedingly gratifying to me to receive a letter from you before your exit, . . . I shall continue to pray for you so long as you may be a subject of prayer, that the Lord may comfort and support you and your remaining mourning and afflicted family. May we all be permitted to meet in heaven, with all the blood-bought throng, and with them unite in praise to the Redeemer forever and ever. May that peace which passeth all understanding be yours in the trying hour. Farewell! Farewell!

L. H.

_______________

* Cousin of John Brown, son of Hannah Owen Brown and Solomon Humphrey Jr.

¹ The letter referred to I do not republish in this volume, as it has already appeared in "The Public Life."

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 431-2

Theodore Frelinghuysen to Senator Henry Clay, January 19, 1852

NEW BRUNSWICK, January 19, 1852.

MY DEAR SIR,—I have heard with great interest and anxiety of your continued feeble health, and that it had rather been more feeble since your decided testimony in behalf of Washington's foreign policy. I was rejoiced to hear your words of soberness and truth on the exciting question of Hungarian politics; and I trust that a divine blessing will follow your counsels.

In this time of impaired health, and sometimes trying despondency that ensues, it must be refreshing to look away to Him who is a helper near in trouble, and able and willing to sustain and comfort you. This blessed Gospel, that reveals the riches of God's grace in Jesus Christ, is a wonderful remedy: so suited to our condition and character, and so full of inexpressible consolation to us, as sinners needing mercy. His blood cleansing us from the guilt of sin, His Spirit purifying our hearts, and restoring us to God's image and favor. May you, my dear friend, largely partake of its comforts, and leaning all your hopes on the Almighty Saviour's arm, hold on your way, for life and for death, for time and eternity, in His name and strength.

SOURCE: Calvin Colton, Editor, The Private Correspondence of Henry Clay, p. 625-6

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Sunday, June 23, 1861

The sanctity of the day was well observed throughout the camp, and increased by an impressive sermon, preached by Bishop Clark. In the afternoon, passes were given to the men to visit the city. The day closed with a dress parade, President Lincoln and other functionaries being present.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 8

M. E. S.* to John Brown, November 29, 1859

MASSACHUSETTS, November 29.

Dear Friend: I have written to you once before, but fear it has never reached you; and now I try again, trusting in the generosity of Capt. Avis. Be of good cheer, dear, brave old friend; your dear ones will be generously and lovingly cared for all the rest of their days! Last evening there was a crowded and enthusiastic meeting at the Tremont Temple, Boston, the proceeds of which were to go to your stricken family. Every where, from all parts of the country, money is pouring in, in large sums and small, for the cause your self-devotion has made sacred to all Christian hearts. I would gladly relinquish ten years of my mortal life, if thereby you could hear even the echo of the noble things that were said by the noblest men in our land last night, I longed for wings to fly to you and tell the words of life, beauty, and eternal truth uttered so eloquently by that poet and philosopher, Mr. Emerson, in behalf of you and your cause. Not many eyes were dry; and every body that had a heart throbbed in unison with your own. God is very good, my friend. He never forgets us; and, in our darkest hour, he sends us the light and strength we need. Thousands of true men and women will never tire of trying to fill the void your death will make to the afflicted family at North Elba. Trust me when I say we will never forget them. . . . Dear, brave old friend, I honor, love, and bless you for the immortal testimony you have given to truth and right. I consecrate myself anew to the cause of the oppressed. Go bravely to your death! God and His holy angels stand ready to receive you, and generations yet unborn will cherish with love the remembrance of John Brown at Harper's Ferry. Farewell!

Yours in love and blessing forever,

M. E. S.

Please give poor Stevens my heartfelt sympathy and admiration for his fortitude and patience. God bless you both!

_______________

* A Massachusetts matron. Redpath indicates that she is the author of the first letter in this chapter.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 425-6

Congressman Horace Mann to Theodore Parker, April 24 1850

WEST NEWTON, April 24, 1850.

REV. T. PARKER.

DEAR SIR, I have just returned from a visit of some days into the western part of New York, where I have seen our common friend, the Rev. Mr. May. He has written a letter to you, which I take pleasure in forwarding. I attended service in his church last Sunday morning, where he administered the communion, and spent at least half an hour in enforcing our duty to follow the example of Jesus Christ in our conduct rather than in our profession or creed. He pathetically lamented the apostasy of so many of the clergy at the present time, and their active agency on the side of wrong; and he said, what I and I doubt not many others were rejoiced to hear, that, while so many doctors of divinity were proving faithless to their highest trust, Theodore Parker, the man whom they denounced as an infidel, was more ably and conspicuously faithful to the cause of truth than any of their number. It produced a strong sensation, as home-truths always will. . . .

Yours very truly,

HORACE MANN.

SOURCE: Mary Tyler Peabody Mann, Life of Horace Mann, p. 300

A Quakeress to John Brown, Undated

Dear Friend: A few humble believers, some of whom have been fasting and praying for thee and thy fellow-prisoners, desire that ye should know that ye are thus remembered. He who searches the heart can make known the fulness of what we feel but forbear to express. Dear friend, if thou knowest the way of life, thou hast help the world knows not of; but if thou hast never known Him whom to know aright is life eternal, we entreat thee in tender love to look to Him in this hour of need. Read the 46th Psalm and the 14th Chapter of St. John. Pour out thy supplications to thy Redeemer: He hath His loving eyes upon you there; His ear will be specially open to thy cry in the name of Jesus. It is Christ alone on whom we can rest. Be instant in prayer, remembering that the true Church is wrestling with thee. We have fear lest, from the bravery and magnanimity of thy spirit, thou shouldst not be sensible where thy strength lieth, as we poor weaker ones are, and have therefore affectionately entreated thee to keep very near in dependence on thy Divine Redeemer. We hope the rest of thy prisoners may see this letter, for we would point them all to the only refuge. O friends, look to your Redeemer in supplication, and thus draw down by prayer His loving kindness unto your wounded hearts, We pray for you, but you must pray for yourselves. We will also do what we can for your family if they need.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 415

J. M. B to John Brown, November 24, 1859

Ilion, New York, November 24.

Dear Brother in Christ: How I would like to spend this night with you in your cell, and converse for a season on the joys that await you beyond this world of sin and sorrow. I have tried to spend this day in prayer and thanksgiving to Almighty God for the many blessings received at His hand the past year, but in spite of all my efforts in this direction, it has been a sorrowful day to my soul, as my mind has dwelt almost constantly on your death scene. I cannot be joyful; I mourn not so much for you, (for, like the hero of Tarsus, you seem ready to be offered,) but I mourn for my country. I spent the past winter in the South, spending four months in nine of the slave States; and more than once I had to press my lips and clinch my fists, to keep back the feelings of my soul. I saw Slavery in all its phases, and many a night I have wet my pillow with my tears, as I called to mind the sufferings of the poor slave. I had hard work to control my feelings, but did so, and cannot think but it was the best course. Among the slaveholders I found some of the noblest men I ever met with kind, obliging, hospitable, pious, and to all appearances without a fault; so I returned to my home to hate the sin and not the men. I made the acquaintance of Gov. Wise, and found that it was not Wise that killed Cilley; it was not Wise that fought for Slavery at the South; it was his education — for a nobler heart never filled the breast of man; and had he been favored with a birthplace on the shores of Lake Champlain, and a home among the Adirondack mountains, he might have been your general in this conflict, and lying wounded by your side to night.*  Would to God these brethren could read our hearts. O, could they see how we love them; how we desire their present and future happiness; what a change would at once take place in their feelings towards us. Did Gov. Wise know Christ as did Paul when soundly converted, there would not be power enough in all the military force of Virginia to hang John Brown. But enough of this.

I have never believed that Virginia, for her own honor, would hang you; but she may, (my heart is too full, my tears flow too fast to write,) if she does, such a funeral as the sun never saw before, will follow.

Keep up good courage; a few more rising and setting suns, and the struggle will be over; and the thrice welcome words will reach your ears, "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you."

I have been a resident of Washington County for thirty-eight years; left Fort Edward, New York, May, 1858, and am sure I have met you, but cannot tell where; but if faithful to the grace already given, I am sure I shall meet you again, and I know where. Praise the Lord, on that blissful shore, where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are forever at rest. You will not be permitted, like Moses, to return after forty years to engage afresh in the struggle for freedom: but God will raise up others, in his own good time, to carry forward the work.

Farewell, till we meet in Heaven; for, when we reach the landing place,—

“In the realms of endless light,
We’ll bid this world of noise and show
Good night, good night, good night;
We’ll stem the storm,” &c.

Your unworthy friend and brother in the Lord,

J. M. B.

_______________

*What miserable cant! "Pious" trafficars in God's children; "pious" robbers of God's poor; "pious" brokers in the souls for whom Jesus died! "Kind, obliging, hospitable!" No doubt of it! To compel men and women to work without reward, is so kind; to barter for base gold the offspring of slave mothers, is so obliging; to rob a race of every social, civil, political, matrimonial, paternal, filial right, is so hospitable an act, that it is not surprising that the class who practise it should be “to all appearance without a fault!" And Wise, the assassin of Cilley, the representative murderer of John Brown, the laudator of the Slave Pens, the acknowledged head and champion of the vilest Commonwealth that the sun looks down on, of course, he deserves the eulogy bestowed on him, when the writer says, that a “nobler heart never filled the breast of man." There are no murderers, there are no assassins, there are no base, nor cowardly, nor wicked men, if the philosophy of the writer be correct. It was not Judas, then, but Judas's education?

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 406-7

J. P. to John Brown, November 25, 1859

Ellenville, New York, Nov. 25.

Dear Brother: We are personally strangers, but we cherish for God and Humanity the same love and trust. Permit me, then, a brother in bonds with the bound, to extend to you my Christian sympathy and prayer in this hour of your trial. Be assured, my dear brother, that the heart of the nation is with you; that whatever the difference in the mode of our operation, our purpose, "to break every fetter," is the same. I am grateful that God and your own heart sustain you in your journey “Home.” You and I do "worship the same God," the God of righteousness and justice, who weigheth motives; and though acts are defeated, will not fail to reward good intentions. I trust there is upon your mind no doubt of your acceptance with God through the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ. The little I have read of your confident avowal of the Divine Mercy towards you, cheer me with the hope that though men kill the body, God will nourish the spirit the man- under His own pavilion of light forever.

I trust you will esteem it no reproach that wicked men plot against you, and put you to death on the gibbet. The gibbet, and the cross, and the fagot, have often been honored by men of whom the world was not worthy. Had you been successful, men would have called you a hero; but because defeated — I forbear the rest. My heart sickens at the thought that conscience, and divine trust, and self-sacrificing benevolence must lie in a cell and await a cruel death. But we now build monuments for those whom others murdered, and God shall yet build yours, not perhaps in bronze or marble shaft, but in a nation of free and happy men, who shall rise up and call you the Moses of their Redemption. You need not fear that your family will suffer want; God and the good will succor them. And now, my dear brother, will you not indulge me with at least a short reply. I shall cherish it long, and gather inspiration from its sight for other conflicts in behalf of religion and liberty. I too have a family of children, and I desire that they should live for the oppressed; and, if such is God's will, die fighting their battles. I will surely swear them at God's altar to eternal hatred of American and every other Slavery. I shall pray fervently every day until you depart, that God may be with you and comfort you. . . .

I am very sincerely your brother in the cause of religion and right,

J. P.        

Pastor of the M. E. Church, Ellenville, Ulster Co., N. Y.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 407-8

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, April 19, 1863

April 19.

Yesterday the rebels at the Ferry made arrangements for Col. Higginson to meet General [W. S.] Walker this morning under a flag of truce. The request was that the Colonel in command here should send over a boat to bring the General across. But the Colonel concluded to go over to them at the hour appointed. I would have gone with him but for my lameness, a wrench to the knee from the Quartermaster's poor horse falling upon it. The Colonel was met by the General's staff with an official letter, but when informed what regiment he represented, they replied that their orders were to hold no official Communication with officers of such regiments. The Colonel learned that General Walker is the W. S. Walker of the regular army, who was under my care in Worcester in the autumn of 1852, and who subsequently in 1856, at the head of a company of dragoons, was sent by Gov. Geary to meet the Colonel on the plains of Kansas while he was at the head of an armed emigrant train. The meeting then was one of mutual surprise, and instead of arrests being made and the train stopped, they went together to the Governor, and the affair took a less stringent turn than had threatened. Yesterday the Colonel took especial pains to send him word that his old acquaintance, T. W. H. would have been happy to send his compliments, had he been treated with due respect, and that his old medical friend, Dr. R. was also here.

In the absence of the Chaplain today, Thomas Long of Co. G held the divine service. His prayers were so deep and simple and touching that we all found our sight somewhat dimmed by tears. In the course of his sermon he said; "If each one of us was praying men, it appears to me that we could fight as well with prayers as with bullets, for the Lord has said that if we have faith, even as a grain of mustard seed cut into four parts, you could say unto that sycamore tree, arise, and it will come up."

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 389-90

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, October 12, 1864

Near Petersburg, Va.,        

October 12, 1864.

I have not received a letter from you for several days, as there seems to be something wrong with the mails again.

Grant has come to a dead halt before Petersburg and Richmond. It is believed that the next fight will take place across on the north side of the James River. The Richmond papers state that there is encouraging news from Georgia, but they will not tell us what it is, because they say they do not want Grant to find out about it. Hood may have Sherman in a tight place.

About twelve thousand men from Richmond have been sent into the trenches at the front. Many of them were in the Government service and many others were gentlemen of leisure. The authorities sent everybody. The police would capture men in all parts of the city and send them under guard to some point to be organized and put under the command of officers who happened to be in Richmond from the army. A man told me these officers were seized in the same way on the streets, and that the authorities would even send out and capture a colonel and put him in command of the whole battalion. A medical officer would sometimes be seized. He would plead that he was due at his command and that he was a noncombatant, but they would tell him he was the very man they needed to attend to the wounded. It delights soldiers to hear of these things. It does them good all over. The soldiers are accustomed to these sudden dashes at the front, but the miserable skulkers almost die of fright.

We are building chimneys and fixing up things in our camp as if we are to remain here. If I were sure of it, I would have you come out and stay with me awhile. It is useless for me to try to get off now while we are so tightly pressed I saw Billie this morning. I carried a haversack full of biscuits and ham to him. I will have ham, light bread and coffee for breakfast in the morning. I have been living well this year.

We have a new chaplain in our brigade named Dixon. I heard him preach yesterday, and he does very well. If Congress would pass a conscript law bringing the preachers into the army we could have chaplains. They have acted worse in this war than any other class of men.

We are having rain to-night and I am very glad to see it, for the weather was dry and the roads were dusty.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 108-9

Senator Daniel Webster to Rev. Dr. Roswell D. Hitchcock, March 17, 1850

Washington, March 17, 1850.

MY DEAR SIR,—I thank you for your letter, which contains thoughts and suggestions lying below the common surface.

It may be very true, that it was no part of the economy of the Divine Government, before the advent of the Messiah, to Judaize all such Gentiles as should come within the immediate contact of the Nation; whereas it is certain, that when the Gospel of Jesus Christ was introduced, it was intended for all nations; and commandment was therefore given to preach it to every creature under the whole heavens.

There is, my dear Sir, a difference between the spirit of the old system and that of the new, which is wonderful and marvellous, and which appears to result from those ways of God which are past finding out. In the Old Testament, the general tone of command, respecting the Gentile nations, is, "root out and destroy." In the new, it is, "convert and save." Nevertheless, I cannot but think that slavery was regarded by Christ and his Apostles as an evil, an injustice to be overcome, by inspiring individuals with that meekness and that love which the gospel enjoins.

There is no direct denunciation of slavery, none of despotism, or monarchy, none of war; although we are well informed whence wars and fightings come. The great end of his teaching, who taught as never man taught, seems to me to be to probe and purify the heart, and to enjoin the performance of personal duties, religious, moral, and social. Christianity confirms and recognizes the Decalogue; but the Decalogue is but a list of commandments for the observance of personal duties. But more than all, and above all, the Divine Sermon on the Mount, that heavenly summary of Christian instruction, addresses every one of its precepts to the heart and conscience of individual man, telling him what ought to be the affections of his heart, and what his performance of the private and personal duties of life.

My dear Sir, I am getting out of my sphere and beyond my depth; but I am happy to be called by your friendly letter to enjoy an hour, in the freshness of the morning, in conversing with you upon subjects of such vast and enduring interest.

With most sincere regard, yours truly,

DAN'L WEBSTER.

SOURCE: Fletcher Webster, Editor, The Private Correspondence of Daniel Webster, Vol. 2, p. 359-60

Senator Daniel Webster to Reverend William H. Furness, February 15, 1850

Washington, February 15, 1850.

MY DEAR SIR,—I was a good deal moved, I confess, by reading your letter of the 9th January. Having great regard for your talents and character, I could not feel indifferent to what you said, when you intimated that there was, or might be, in me, a power to do good, not yet exercised or developed. It may be so; but I fear, my dear Sir, that you overrate, not my desire, but my power to be useful in my day and generation.

From my earliest youth, I have regarded slavery as a great moral and political evil. I think it unjust, repugnant to the natural equality of mankind, founded only in superior power; a standing and permanent conquest by the stronger over the weaker. All pretence of defending it on the ground of different races, I have ever condemned. I have even said that if the black race is weaker, that is a reason against, not for, its subjection and oppression. In a religious point of view, I have ever regarded it, and ever spoken of it, not as subject to any express denunciation, either in the Old Testament or the New, but as opposed to the whole spirit of the Gospel and to the teaching of Jesus Christ.

The religion of Jesus Christ is a religion of kindness, justice, and brotherly love.

But slavery is not kindly affectionate; it does not seek another's, and not its own; it does not let the oppressed go free. It is, as I have said, but a continual act of oppression. But then, such is the influence of a habit of thinking among men, and such is the influence of what has been long established, that even minds, religious and tenderly conscientious, such as would be shocked by any single act of oppression, in any single exercise of violence and unjust power, are not always moved by the reflection that slavery is a continual and permanent violation of human rights.

But now, my dear Sir, what can be done by me, who act only a part in political life, and who have no power over the subject of slavery, as it exists in the States of the Union? I do what I can to restrain it; to prevent its spread and diffusion. But I cannot disregard the oracles which instruct me not to do evil that good may come. I cannot coöperate in breaking up social and political systems, on the warmth, rather than the strength, of a hope that, in such convulsions, the cause of emancipation may be promoted.

And even if the end would justify the means, I confess I do not see the relevancy of such means to such an end. I confess, my dear Sir, that in my judgment confusion, conflict, embittered controversy, violence, bloodshed, and civil war, would only rivet the chains of slavery the more strongly.

In my opinion, it is the mild influences of Christianity, the softening and melting power of the Sun of righteousness, and not the storms and tempests of heated controversy, that are, in the course of those events which an all-wise Providence overrules, to dissolve the iron fetters by which man is made the slave of man.

The effect of moral causes, though sure, is slow. In two thousand years, the doctrines and the miracles of Jesus Christ have converted but a very small part of the human race; and among Christian nations, even, many gross and obvious errors, like that of the lawfulness of slavery, have still held their ground.

But what are two thousand years in the great work of the progress of the regeneration and redemption of mankind? If we see that the course is onward and forward, as it certainly is, in regard to the final abolition of human slavery; while we give to it our fervent prayers, and aid it by all the justifiable influences which we can exercise, it seems to me, we must leave both the progress and the result in His hands who sees the end from the beginning, and in whose sight a thousand years are but as a single day. I pray you, my dear Sir, accept this, the product of half an hour of the evening, and unread by the writer, as a respectful and grateful acknowledgment of your very kind and friendly letter.

DAN'L WEBSTER.

SOURCE: Fletcher Webster, Editor, The Private Correspondence of Daniel Webster, Vol. 2, p. 353-5

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: November 16, 1864

Bright and frosty.

This is the day designated by the President for worship, etc., and the offices and places of business are all closed. It is like Sunday, with an occasional report of cannon down the river.

I doubt whether the clerks in the trenches will pray for the President. Compelled to volunteer under a threat of removal, they were assured that they would only be called out in times of great urgency, and then be returned to their offices in a few days. They have now been in the front trenches several months; while the different secretaries are quietly having their kinsmen and favorites detailed back to their civil positions, the poor and friendless are still “left out in the cold.” Many of these have refugee families dependent on them, while those brought in are mostly rich, having sought office merely to avoid service in the field. The battalion, numbering 700, has less than 200 now in the trenches. Hundreds of the local forces, under a sense of wrong, have deserted to the enemy.

Gen. Breckinridge has beaten the enemy at Bull's Gap, Tenn., taking several hundred prisoners, 6 guns, etc.

Mr. Hunter was at the department early this morning in quest of news.

Gave $75 for a load of coal.

Messrs. Evans & Cogswell, Columbia, S. C., have sent me some of their recent publications : “A Manual of Military Surgery, by I. Julian Chisolm, M.D., 3d edition;” “Digest of the Military and Naval Laws,” by Lester & Bromwell; “Duties of a Judge Advocate, etc.” by Capt. R. C. Gilchrist; and “A Map of East Virginia and North Carolina;” all beautifully printed and bound.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 331-2

L. H. C, a Friend in Syracuse to John Brown, November 24, 1859

Syracuse, N. Y., Nov. 26.

Captain John Brown, thou Friend of God and Man: Will you allow a line from me to mingle with the thousands of expressions of sympathy that reach you in your prison house? But my words are feeble things, when God is so manifestly with you. His presence and the consolations of His grace are richer and far better than all I possess, or can impart. I have long loved you for your works' sake; for you have shown yourself a man. Be of good courage, and our Father in Heaven will sustain you and make you conqueror "through Him who loveth us and gave Himself for us."

I am the possessor of a single hair from the head of the immortal Clarkson, presented me, some years ago, by your friend and mine, Mrs. Geritt Smith. I value it very highly. My desire is, that you may send me by mail, accompanying your own handwriting, a lock from your own head, and I will make many of your friends partners in its possession.

The Lord make His face to shine The Lord lift up His countenance

"The Lord keep thee and bless thee. upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. upon thee, and give thee peace," is the daily prayer of

Your sincere friend and brother,

L. H. C.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 397-8

“Good-by’s Letter”* to John Brown, November 26, 1859

November 26th.

My Dear Mr Brown i have been Goeing to send you a few lines for this last three weeks but Owing to my work i could not find the time as i am a Poor Man and have to work very hard but i colld not rest without writting as a little Comfort to you as a young Convert on my way to heaven i have felt & shed tears for you from the bottom of my heart i have thought of you often in the dead hours of Night God bless you as been my Prayers and he will bless you for i expct you will ware a bright crown in heaven yes Glory be to God thare is a Place Prepared for you in that better & happy land whare we will meet to part no more God bless you Good bye.

_______________

* So labelled by John Brown.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 398

John Brown to James Forman, December 1, 1859

CHARLESTOWN PRISON, JEFFERSON CO., VA., Dec. 1, 1859.

JAMES FORMAN, ESQ.

My dear Friend: I have only time to say I got your kind letter of the 26th Nov. this evening. Am very grateful for all the good feeling expressed by yourself and wife. May God abundantly bless and save you all. I am very cheerful, in hopes of entering on a better state of existence, in a few hours, through infinite grace in "Christ Jesus, my Lord." Remember the "poor that cry," and "them that are in bonds as bound with them."

Your friend as ever,

JOHN BROWN.

SOURCE: James Redpath, The Public Life of Capt. John Brown, p. 368-9