The Strange Story of Harper's Ferry, with Legends of the Surrounding Country

From this time the town was visited nightly by scouts from both sides and the citizens were, as the Irishman says, "between the devil and the deep sea." As the nights grew longer and lights became necessary the people felt the inconveniences of their situation the more keenly. The sides of the houses fronting the Maryland Heights were, of necessity, kept in total darkness, else the fire of the unionists was sure to be attracted. The sides fronting the south stood in equal danger from the confederates and, families were obliged to manage so that no lights could be seen by either of the contending forces.

On the 11th of November a party of union men determined to cross the Potomac and throw themselves on the protection of the United States government, as they were threatened with conscription by the Virginians as well as exposed to insult for their opinions. They were, moreover, men in humble circumstances and they wanted employment somewhere. Their interest as well as their sympathies were with the north, or rather with the old government, and they resolved to make a break from the danger and humiliation of a residence in a debatable territory. Six of them, namely: Alexander Kelly, the same who had so narrow an escape from Brown's men; John Kelly, J. Miller Brown, G. S. Collis, Lafayette Davis, and the author of these annals, therefore procured a leaky skiff from "Old Tom Hunter," the Charon of the Potomac and Shenandoah since the destruction of the bridges. Hunter's son ferried them across, just in time to escape a party of confederates then entering the town, to impress them into their service. Joyfully, the refugees approached the Maryland shore after the dangers of their stay at Harper's Ferry and the no small risk they had run of being drowned, as the river was then very high and rapid and the skiff unsound and over-burdened with passengers and baggage. Their disappointment and astonishment were great, therefore, on their being informed that they would not be allowed to land; that their crossing was in violation of the rules established by the officer in command at the post and that they must return to Virginia. This was not to be thought of and, after a long parley, they received an ungracious permission to disembark, when they were immediately made prisoners by order of Major Hector Tyndale, of the 28th Pennsylvania regiment, in command at the place. This potentate was not to be cajoled by their protestations of loyalty to the United States government. In every one of them he saw a rebel spy. He took them separately into a private room, examined their clothes and took possession of every paper found on them. Their baggage was searched thoroughly and several poetical effusions of the author of these pages, addressed to various Dulcineas of Virginia and Maryland on the day of "Good Saint Valentine" some years before – copies of which he had unfortunately retained – excited the wrath of the puritanical Tyndale to a high pitch and brought down on the hapless poet the heaviest denunciations. Mr. Collis, also, fell in for a share of the Major's displeasure. Being a member in good standing of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows, Mr. Collis had obtained a traveling card from Virginia Lodge, No. 1, of that society at Harper's Ferry, to which he belonged. This card he had, or thought he had, put away safely in his vest pocket which he had pinned securely for the safety of its contents. Major Tyndale felt the pocket and demanded to know what was in it. Mr. Collis replied that it was his "traveling card." The major insisted on seeing it and, lo, when Mr. Collis showed the package and opened it, instead of an Odd Fellow's card, it turned out to be a daguerreotype likeness of one of that gentleman's lady friends which, through some inadvertence, Mr. Collis had substituted for what he had intended to guard with so much care. The Major taking this mistake for a wilful personal insult, stormed wildly and remanded the six prisoners for further trial, when they were confined with other captives in Eader's hotel at Sandy Hook. It will be believed that, under the circumstances, they were a gloomy party and, in view of the probability that things would grow worse as the night advanced, the author uttered a pious ejaculation, expressing a wish that he had the freedom of Sandy Hook for half an hour to improve the commissariat of the prisoners which was rather scant and entirely wanting in that article so indispensable to people in trouble and to many under any circumstances – whiskey. As luck would have it, the prayer reached the ear of the sentinel at the prison door, who was a six-foot representative of that beautiful island which is so touchingly described by one of its inspired sons as:

"Poor, dear, ould Ireland, that illigent placeWhere whiskey's for nothing and a beating for less."

The word "whiskey" was the sesame to the sentinel's heart. He looked around cautiously to see if the officer of the guard was near and, the coast being clear, he opened the door and, in a confidential way, remarked that he supposed the speaker was a dacent boy who would do the clane thing and that he – the sentinel – would run the risk of letting him out on parole of honor for half an hour. The offer was accepted joyfully and, in an incredibly short time, the author, who in those days, "knew all the ropes," returned with a load of crackers, cheese and sausages, pipes and tobacco, and the main desideratum, a very corpulent bottle of "tangle foot," a very appropriate name for the particular brand of Sandy Hook whiskey. With these refreshments and a greasy pack of cards, the night wore away pleasantly and, before morning, the Irish sentinel was the jolliest man of the party for, on every passage of the bottle, his services were gratefully remembered and rewarded with a jorum. When the time came for relieving the guard the sentinel was too drunk to stand upright and present arms and the sergeant who, too, was a good fellow or who was, perhaps, himself drunk, did not change the guard. Anyway, the jolly Irishman was left at the post 'till morning and he did not complain of the hardship of losing his sleep. The greater number of his prisoners were too top-heavy to make their escape, even if they were inclined to play false with their indulgent keeper. Next day they were examined again and subjected to various sentences according to their supposed delinquencies or their ability to do mischief. The hapless author was condemned to banishment to a distance of at least ten miles from the lines of the army for his unholy poetry and – as Major Tyndale actually expressed it – because the expression of his eye was unprepossessing. Mr. Collis was permitted to stay at Sandy Hook, but he was obliged to report every morning at 10 o'clock at the major's office. Many and various were the adventures of this as well as of other parties of Harper's Ferry people who were scattered about by the chances of the times. A narrative of them would fill a very large volume, if not a fair-sized library, and it may be that some of them will appear in future biographical sketches.

On the 7th of February, 1862, two parties of hostile scouts encountered each other at Harper's Ferry. The federal spies had spent the most of the night of the 6th at the place and about dawn on the 7th had entered a skiff to return to Maryland, when they were fired on by some confederates who were watching for them, and one of them, named Rohr, was killed. Another, named Rice, threw himself into the river and, by his dexterity in swimming and by keeping under cover of the skiff, managed to save his life and escape to Maryland. The confederate scouts were of Captain Baylor's company, who kept Harper's Ferry in a state of terror all the winter, entering the town every few nights and doing many harsh things, without the order or approval of their captain, who, however, was held responsible for their acts and was treated with a great deal of unjust severity when in the course of events he became a prisoner of war.

The killing of Rohr was the cause of another calamity to the hapless town. Colonel Geary, who was commanding the federal troops at the Point of Rocks, Sandy Hook, and the bank of the Potomac to Harper's Ferry and under whom Major Tyndale was acting at Sandy Hook, became highly incensed at the death of Rohr, who was a favorite scout, and he immediately sent a detachment to destroy the part of Harper's Ferry in which the confederates were accustomed to conceal themselves and watch and annoy the federal soldiers on the Maryland shore. This they accomplished, ruthlessly destroying with fire Fouke's hotel and all of the town between the armory and the railroad bridge. Certainly, this must be considered a wanton destruction of property as the trestle buttresses or even the ruins of the burnt buildings furnished enough of shelter for spies or sharpshooters. The demolition of this property was accomplished under the immediate supervision of Major Tyndale, and here occur some curious coincidences such as often appear in history and in ordinary life. It will be remembered that John Brown, on the day of his capture, prophesied the destruction of Harper's Ferry, to take place in a short time. It will be recollected, too, that his wife came to Virginia to get possession of his body after his execution. This same Hector Tyndale accompanied her from Philadelphia as a protector and conducted the transportation of the remains from Virginia to New York. In a little more than two years the town, to all intents and purposes, was destroyed and the finishing stroke was given to it by this very Tyndale. Who will say that these were merely coincidences and who will not rather suspect that there were in these affairs something like a true spirit of prophecy and a divine retribution. Major Tyndale is now dead and peace to his soul! At the battle of Antietam he was shot through the head, but he recovered, at least partially, from his wound and in some years after he served as mayor of Philadelphia. He was no friend to the author of these pages, but truth compels a rather favorable summing up of his character. Like his great namesake of Troy, he was a sincere patriot and, although he often descended to the consideration of mere trifles and harassed innocent people with groundless suspicions, it is believed that he was thoroughly honest and he certainly had courage enough to do no discredit to his Homeric name.

All that winter – '61-'62 – Harper's Ferry presented a scene of the utmost desolation. All the inhabitants had fled, except a few old people, who ventured to remain and protect their homes, or who were unable or unwilling to leave the place and seek new associations. This ill-boding lull continued – excepting the occasional visits of the Confederates and the Rohr tragedy with its consequences – until the night of the 22nd of February, 1862, when General Banks made a forward move in conjunction with General Shields, who proceeded up the valley from the neighborhood of Paw Paw, on the line of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, between Martinsburg and Cumberland. General Banks sent a detachment across the Potomac at Harper's Ferry in advance of the main body of his troops. They crossed in skiffs and their object was to lay a pontoon bridge. With them was a man named James Stedman, a native of the place, and another named Rice, who acted as guides. The night was stormy, blowing a gale down the river through the gorges of the Blue Ridge. Stedman, Rice and five soldiers of the 28th Pennsylvania regiment were in one skiff, when, through the severity of the gale or mismanagement, the boat was upset and all were cast into the icy waters. Rice escaped by swimming to one of the buttresses of the bridge, but Stedman and the five soldiers were drowned and their bodies were never recovered. This man – Rice – was the same who had so narrow an escape a few nights before at the same place, when Rohr was killed. He lived many years after these two close calls and served as a railroad engineer. One day he fell from his engine and was cut to pieces by it. It is supposed that his fall was caused by an apoplectic fit and that he was dead when his body reached the ground. From the time of this crossing until the retreat of Banks from Winchester, May 25th, 1862, the town was held by federal troops. Immediately after the battle of Kernstown, March 23rd, of that year, the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company took possession of the Winchester and Potomac railroad and worked it for the government, thus relieving in some measure the strict blockade the place had endured all the winter. Perhaps, it would be more correct to say the government seized the road and employed the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company to run it for them. The place, of course, now became very important as a base of supplies for the union troops, and the great number of soldiers who were stationed there at this time and the many civilian strangers who daily arrived to visit friends in the army, threw a new life into the town. Besides, many of the old citizens returned to their homes, now comparatively safe, and accumulated snug fortunes in providing small luxuries for the wearied soldiers and their friends. When General Banks was pursued to the Potomac at Williamsport a portion of the confederate forces marched towards Harper's Ferry and the union garrison there, with all the citizens who held to the old government, crossed over to Maryland. The rebels, however, approached no nearer to the place than Halltown, about four miles west, on Charlestown road and, in a day or two, they returned up the valley. All through the spring and summer, except the few days noted, the town continued to be a base of supplies for the union forces in that region, and it was notably so while the armies of Shields, Banks and Freemont were operating against Jackson in the campaign of Cross-Keys and Port Republic. After the second battle of Manassas, General Lee decided to invade Maryland, and of course, the capture of Harper's Ferry became very desirable if not absolutely necessary to him. It was then under the command of General Miles, a veteran of the regular United States army. He had a force which, including a large number under Colonel Tom Ford, of Ohio, posted on the Maryland Heights, amounted to twelve thousand. While General Lee with the main body of the confederates crossed at the lower fords of the Potomac and marched on Frederick City, Generals Jackson and A. P. Hill attacked Harper's Ferry with their commands. The siege commenced on Friday, September 12th, 1862, by the confederates opening fire from the Loudoun Heights with several batteries. The federal guns on the Maryland Heights replied, but the position of the latter was soon attacked in the rear by a portion of the rebel army that had got a footing in Maryland and, of course, the rebels on the Virginia shore profited by the diversion. The extreme right of the confederates in Maryland and the left of the federals who were following them up from Washington under McClellan, approached very near to the northeastern slope of these heights and Colonel Ford was attacked by a strong body of troops detached for that purpose. Lee had marched through Frederick City and, thence, westward towards Hagerstown and Sharpsburg, where he faced about and made a stand against his pursuers. This placed the confederate right close to the Maryland Heights as above stated. A desultory though destructive musketry fire was kept up all through Friday and Saturday, September 12th and 13th, and thus Colonel Ford was placed, as he thought, in a hopeless situation. The forces fighting him in the rear were probably of South Carolina, as many headboards long standing at graves on the ground they occupied bore the names of soldiers and regiments from that state. The bombardment from the Loudoun Heights continued in the meantime until Colonel Ford abandoned his position and shut himself up in Harper's Ferry. His conduct on this occasion has been severely criticised and, indeed, it is understood that he was cashiered for misconduct. His military judges, no doubt, knew more about the merits of the case than any civilian, but it is certain that many instances of what appeared to be greater mismanagement occurred during the war, when little or nothing was said in condemnation of any one and nobody was punished. The loss of Harper's Ferry was a severe one, and the popular sentiment demanded a scape-goat. The condemnation of Colonel Ford was some balm and the unreasoning multitude were appeased. The abandonment of the Maryland Heights was, of course, a virtual surrender of Harper's Ferry. On Monday, September 15th, therefore, the national flag was lowered and the garrison laid down their arms. The confederates, besides capturing some twelve thousand men, got possession of a large amount of arms and valuable stores. General Miles was killed by a shell immediately after his giving the order to surrender and, in all probability, his death saved him from a fate still worse to a soldier. Great indignation was felt through the loyal states and in army circles at what was called his treason or cowardice, and, had he lived, his conduct, no doubt, would have been the subject of a strict investigation, as in the case of Colonel Ford, if, indeed, the supposed misconduct of the latter was not forgotten when the principal was under indictment. If poor Miles had lived to give his version of the matter the public verdict might have been different in the course of time. Anyway, he died for his country and let no one belittle his memory.

Before the surrender a small body of federal cavalry made a gallant charge and succeeded in making their escape, capturing and destroying an ammunition train belonging to Longstreet's corps of confederates, which they overtook near the Antietam and effecting a junction with McClellan's army, then posted on that river. Full justice has never been done in history to this gallant little body of men – the 8th New York Cavalry – or to its heroic leader, Colonel B. F. Davis.

After the surrender, General Jackson marched towards Shepherdstown and arrived at General Lee's position in time to take a part in the great battle of the 17th of September. He left General A. P. Hill in command at Harper's Ferry, but he, too, departed next day and, like Jackson, effected a junction with Lee's main army in time to aid in the great conflict that was impending.

The direction in which Jackson marched from Harper's Ferry to Antietam – due north – disposes of a controversy that for years has exercised the pens of many people eminent in letters. The poet Whittier makes Jackson march through Frederick City on his way to join Lee, and the fame of Barbara Fritchie rests on her supposed defying of him and her shaking the national flag at him, as he passed her house at that place. Whittier's poem is certainly a spirited one and it is too good to be without foundation in fact, but is to be feared that so it is. In all probability General Jackson never set foot in Frederick City. Certainly, he did not do so in the Antietam campaign, and the flag-shaking that has immortalized Barbara – was done by the small children of a Mrs. Quantril, who lived near the Fritchies, and the rebels paid no heed to what was done by the little tots. How many of the heroes and heroines of history or song are mythical and how many real deeds of gallantry have been consigned to oblivion can anyone tell?

The siege and surrender of Harper's Ferry, though important events of the war were not as disastrous to its people as other occurrences of less national interest. There was no very hard fighting on the occasion, considering the numbers engaged and the magnitude of the stake and no loss of life or property to the citizens of the place. While the siege was in progress, the battle of South Mountain took place, September 14th, and on the same month was fought the murderous battle of Antietam. Both fields are near Harper's Ferry and the thunders of the artillery and the roll of the musketry could be heard distinctly at that place from those famous battle grounds. At the former engagement the lines were very long and the left wing of the Federals under General Franklin, and the right of the confederates under General Howell Cobb, of Georgia, extended to the very foot of the Maryland Heights. These wings met at "Crampton's Gap" about five miles from Harper's Ferry and a very fierce battle was the consequence. This engagement, though properly a part of that of South Mountain, has been considered a separate affair on account of the distance from the main armies at which it was fought, and its extreme severity and it is called the "battle of Crampton's Gap." The union troops were victorious and they drove the confederates through "the gap" and some other wild passes in the Blue Ridge near the place. The battle was fought almost entirely with musketry at close range which accounts for the great loss of life on both sides. Had General Miles held out a little longer, the advantage gained at Crampton's Gap would have enabled General Franklin to come to his relief, and the loss and disgrace of the surrender might have been prevented.

Both sides claimed a victory at Antietam, but Lee retreated and his garrison at Harper's Ferry abandoned that place. McClellan did not pursue, but he concentrated his whole army around Harper's Ferry, where he remained apparently inactive for nearly two months. The whole peninsula formed by the Potomac and the Shenandoah from Smallwood's Ridge to the junction of the rivers, as well as the surrounding heights, soon became dotted with tents, and at night the two villages and the neighboring hills were aglow with hundreds of watchfires. From Camp Hill the ridge that separates the towns of Harper's Ferry and Bolivar the spectacle was magnificent, especially at night, and a spectator was forcibly reminded of a fine description of a similar scene in the eighth book of the Iliad. A hum of voices like that of an immense city or the hoarse murmur of the great deep arose from the valleys on either side and filled the air with a confusion of sounds, while to a person of sensibility it was sad to contemplate how many of this mighty host may have been fated never to leave the soil of Virginia, but sleep their long, last sleep far from home and kindred and in a hostile land. The bands of the various regiments frequently discoursed their martial strains, and nothing that sight or sound could do to stir the imagination was wanted. Of course, innumerable instances occurred of drunken rioting among the soldiers and of outrage on the citizens. A list of these would fill many volumes each much larger than this little book, and imagination can picture but faintly the sufferings of a people exposed helpless to the mercy of an undisciplined armed rabble, for candor obliges us to thus designate both the armies engaged in this war. Officers and men on both sides were brave as soldiers can be, but, except the West Pointers and the graduates of a few military academies, they knew nothing about the science of war, and it was impossible for an officer to check the excesses of his command, when many of the privates under him were, perhaps, his superiors socially in the civil life they had all left so lately and where all were volunteers fighting for a principle and not for a soldier's pay. General McClellan proceeded south in November, leaving a strong garrison at Harper's Ferry, and that place was occupied by the federals without interruption until the second invasion of the north by General Lee in June, 1863. All this time, as all through the war, the roads leading to Leesburg, Winchester, Martinsburg and other places were infested by guerillas in the service of the confederates and sometimes by deserters from and camp followers of the federals, the latter frequently committing outrages that were charged to the southern men. The most noted of the guerillas was a youth named John Mobley. He was a son of a woman named Polly Mobley, who lived on the Loudoun side of the Shenandoah, near Harper's Ferry, and his reputed father was a man named Sam. Fine, who at one time lived in the neighborhood, but who moved west long before the war. The son took his mother's name and it is one that will ever be famous in that region on account of his exploits. He and his mother were poor and, when a mere boy, he used to drive a team for a free negro butcher named Joe Hagan, who lived in Loudoun and used to attend the Harper's Ferry market with his meat wagon. Mobley was at this time a lubberly, simple-looking lad, and the pert youths of the town used to tease him. He gave no indication then of the desperate spirit which he afterwards exhibited. On the contrary, he appeared to be rather cowardly. When the war broke out, however, he joined a company of confederate cavalry raised in Loudoun county, and, although not much above seventeen years of age, he was detailed by his captain as a scout to watch the federal army around his native place. Under the circumstances, this was an important and delicate duty. With this roving commission he, with a few others, ranged the neighborhood of Niersville and Hillsborough and sometimes he came to the bank of the Shenandoah at Harper's Ferry. He is said to have kept, like Dugald Dalgetty, a sharp eye on his private interests, while obeying to the letter the commands of his superiors. He was a great terror of sutlers and wagonmasters and he is supposed to have captured many rich prizes, displaying the most reckless courage and committing some cold blooded murders. Like many other gentlemen of the road, however, he had his admirers, and many anecdotes are told of his forbearance and generosity. On the 5th of April, 1865 – four days before Lee's surrender – his career ended by his being shot to death by a party of three soldiers of the union army, who had set a trap for him with the connivance, perhaps, of some neighbors and pretended friends. His body, with the head perforated in three places by bullets, was thrown, like a sack of grain, across a horse's back and conveyed in triumph to Harper's Ferry where it was exposed to public view in front of the headquarters. The body was almost denuded by relic hunters who, with their jack knives, cut pieces off his clothes as souvenirs of the war and of the most noted of the Virginia guerillas.