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

It may be well to dissipate the gloom which it is probable the reader feels after perusing this chapter of human suffering, and to give cheerful finale to a history more than sufficiently melancholy. It is, therefore, proposed that the author relate a joke on himself in connection with the great flood and tell

"How he was 'sold.'"

If his book will meet with half as successful a "sell" as he met with the writer will be perfectly satisfied. Immediately after the flood there was a great demand among newspaper men for accounts of it from eye witnesses, and the author "spread himself" as the saying is, in the columns of a "daily" in a neighboring city. The main facts given in these pages were narrated and some which the writer afterwards had good reason to believe were apocryphal. There resides in Pleasant Valley, Maryland, a jolly farmer and shrewd business man, whose name it is not necessary to mention. He is much respected for many good qualities of head and heart, and his company is much sought and enjoyed by lovers of fun, for he is always ready to give and take a good joke. Hearing that the author was collecting items for an extensive account of the inundation, our wag determined to contribute his share of experiences, and he related to the writer how, on the Saturday of the flood, he had rescued, near his place, from the river, a colored woman who had floated down stream, on the roof of a house, from Page county, Virginia, fully seventy miles. He represented her as being a very large woman, so big, indeed, that it was wonderful that the roof could float and carry her weight. He also mentioned that when rescued she was composedly smoking a short pipe. The historian who, like all men of great genius, is remarkable for a child-like simplicity and an unsuspecting nature, eagerly noted the remarkable voyage and the singular incident of the pipe smoking, and next day the newspapers above referred to whose editor, too, must have been a man of genius, came out with the report – pipe story and all – and not until a skeptical friend of the correspondent, and one who is of an investigating turn of mind, ventured to ask how the woman got fire to light her pipe, did the possibility of his being deceived occur to the writer. In defense of his narrative and of his feelings, the author suggested that she might have had matches on her person, but as the chances were overwhelmingly against the probability of there being any thing dry about her, he was obliged to "confess the corn," as the phrase goes, and admit that he had been duped. It was some consolation, however, to reflect that the shrewd newspaper man had shared the same fate at the hands of the Pleasant Valley Munchausen. The latter further related that the woman was staying at his house, recruiting after her voyage and, this getting abroad, many contributions of money and creature comforts came pouring into his care, for the relief of his protege. There is a town not far from his house, the inhabitants of which were Abolitionists before the war, and are Republicans now. On hearing of the sad condition of the mythical black woman and her miraculous escape, the citizens of that place assembled in town meeting and subscribed liberally for her benefit. They were however, and are very cautious, prudent people and they determined to send a committee to inquire into the matter before remitting. Our friend was equal to the occasion and, when the committee arrived at his house, he showed them a strapping black woman who had been for many years in his family, and pointed to her as a living witness to the truth of his story. As the committee were not acquainted with domestics, they felt perfectly satisfied and, on their return home, they reported favorably of the affair, and the funds were sent. All he received for the use of the black myth, Munchausen immediately transferred to the Harper's Ferry relief association and the money and the joke contributed to the comfort and merriment of the real sufferers.

On the 25th of November, 1877, there was a big and disastrous flood in the Potomac, caused by heavy rains in the valleys of both branches of that river. There was no corresponding rise in the Shenandoah, however, as the rains did not extend to any great degree to the regions drained by the latter. Harper's Ferry did not suffer much from this flood, except that the Chesapeake and Ohio canal, with which its interests are to some degree identified, was almost entirely demolished. That important channel of business has never fully recovered from the loss it sustained on that occasion, and, of course, the whole country bordering on it has been more or less affected by the depressed condition of that useful thoroughfare.

On the last day of May, 1889, both rivers rose to an unprecedented height, but as the currents acted as mutual checks on one another, there was comparatively little damage done to property at the place, except from the filthy deposits left by the waters. This was the day of the famous Johnstown disaster and, while the people of that place were being hurried to destruction, the author of these pages was enjoying a swim in the basement of his own house at Harper's Ferry – not "Moonshine Cottage," however – the site of which will never be inundated until the gap in the Blue Ridge is stopped up in some convulsion of Nature that will topple over the Maryland and Loudoun Heights. He and his had retreated to the upper part of the house, as soon as the lower floor was flooded, but having forgotten to secure some important papers which he usually kept in the apartment now under water, he was obliged to strip and strike out to their rescue.

Great as were the hopes excited by the sale of the government property in November, 1869, and the promise of a renewal of business activity, it soon appeared that those expectations were illusory. Captain Adams and others interested in the purchase became incorporated under the title of "The Harper's Ferry Manufacturing and Water Power Company" and the captain more than hinted that Senator Sprague and other wealthy manufacturers of the north were concerned as partners in the new firm. On one occasion, soon after the purchase, a telegraphic dispatch from Captain Adams reached the place stating that Senator Sprague would visit the town on a particular day and address the people on "The Future of Harper's Ferry." This looked like business and hand-bills were immediately struck off and circulated through the surrounding country, inviting all to assist the citizens of the place in showing honor to the great man. A committee was appointed to present him with an elaborate address, and preparations were made to receive him in a manner suitable to the occasion. On the appointed day, however, the senator was "non est" and it is said that he afterwards expressed great astonishment and indignation at the unauthorized use of his name in the business. Then, indeed, for the first time, did the people of Harper's Ferry begin to suspect a fraud of some kind and future developments went to confirm their unpleasant surmises. Though Captain Adams hired a watchman to take care of the property, and he himself continued to visit the place at intervals, it soon became apparent that his company were in no hurry to begin manufactures or the preparations for them. After the flood of 1870 some influence was brought to bear on the government to delay the collection of the first installment of the purchase money, and a bill was introduced into Congress to extend the time for payment to five years. The grounds for this stay of collection and the bill were the damage done by the high water to a considerable part of the property purchased, and the great distress caused to the whole place by that calamity. About the same time it became known that a claim was set up by Captain Adams and his firm against the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company for possession of the ground over which the road passes between Harper's Ferry and Peacher's Mill. The railroad company had, many years before, got the right of way through the armory grounds from the government on certain conditions, and no one dreamed of their being disturbed about it until the thought struck some Washington City speculators that there was something to be made off the road by the purchase of the armory property and the institution of a suit of ejectment. In this way the people of Harper's Ferry were sacrificed to the greed of a set of heartless speculators, and the injury was aggravated by the absolute certainty that if Captain Adams had not made his ill-omened appearance on the day of the sale the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company would have purchased the property and erected on it a rolling mill.

The courts were now appealed to, but a recital of the many suits and counter-suits between the government, the railroad company and the Adams company would be uninteresting and tiresome. The latter first tried to eject the railroad company and, failing in this, and finding that, as they never intended to establish manufacturing at the place, their enterprise was futile, they tried to return the property into the hands of the government on the pretense that they could not get possession of all they had bargained for. After a great deal of litigation the government, no doubt, thinking that the game was not worth the candle, as the saying is, finally cried "quits" and received back the property, without enforcing any pecuniary claim arising from the sale. All this time the people of Harper's Ferry were suffering from hope deferred and truly sick were their hearts. The magnificent water power was lying idle, as far as any general utilization of it was concerned, and so matters rested until the year 1886, when the property was purchased by Savery and Company, of Wilmington, Delaware, who, in the spring of 1887, proceeded to render the water power available for the purpose of pulp mills. These gentlemen encountered many difficulties arising from the indefinite wording of old deeds made to the government at various times and the conflicting claims of various property holders at the place. Their most serious difficulty was with the firm of Child, McCreight and Company, or rather with a new firm composed of some members of the original one and others taken from time to time into the company. In the summer of 1887 the United States Court at Parkersburg, West Virginia, decided in favor of Savery and Company, standing on the rights supposed to have been enjoyed by the government when the sale was made to these gentlemen. In the meantime, a pulp mill was erected on the Shenandoah, and, in some time after another on the Potomac. Savery and Company experienced difficulties with the Chesapeake and Ohio canal company also. The State of Maryland has always laid claim to jurisdiction over the Potomac, as far as the ordinary water mark on the Virginia shore and, as in times of drought, the volume of water in that river is but little more than is required for the supply of the canal, the State of Maryland, which owns a large interest in that work, when appealed to by the canal company, used all its power to hinder the water from being diverted to other industries than that of the canal which is under their direct patronage and protection. The author is not advised as to the result of this controversy, but both the pulp mills are in operation and that on the Potomac – the one to be affected by any victory for the canal company – is worked at present without any apparent interruption. The new firm – Savery and Company – are evidently good business men, and it would appear as if they had come to stay, and give a start to a new Harper's Ferry. It is, perhaps, a good sign of their business qualifications that they are not bothered with sentiment as is shown in their sale of John Brown's fort. Everybody at the place wishes them well and hopes that they realize a good price for this interesting relic, but many regret that they did not retain it, as age but added to its value to the owners and, indeed, to the whole town, for many a tourist has tarried a day at the place expressly to get a good sight of it, and the older it grew, the more interest was attached to it.

When the author of this book had about finished his labors, he became aware of something very interesting in connection with the site of Harper's Ferry. Had he known it when he began, he certainly would have given his readers the benefit of it at the start, for there it belongs as, if it happened at all, it occurred away back in the misty ages of history or, at least, of Christianity. It is true that he could have remodeled his manuscript and penned it over again, but, as the Fatalists say, "what is written is written" and the undoing of what has been done might bring bad luck to him by putting him in conflict with Fate, besides imposing much labor on him for nothing, perhaps. From his earliest years the writer has been familiar with the legend of Saint Brandan or Borandan, a pious though enterprising Irish monk of the 6th century, who embarked, it is said, on the Atlantic in quest of the "Isles of Paradise," as they were called. At that time and, indeed, at a much later period, there was a firm belief that there was, at least, one island of exquisite beauty in the western Ocean, which appeared at intervals, but always eluded those who tried to take possession of it. There is reason to believe that some vision of the kind, the effect of mirage was sometimes presented to the unsophisticated sailors and fishermen of the olden time and as in those days science had scarcely been born, it is no wonder that a belief in the actual existence of this land was firmly fixed in the minds of a people imaginative and poetic as the Irish, ancient or modern. Be this as it may, there is a well authenticated tradition of the voyage of Saint Brandan in quest of this evanescent land, and manuscripts of hoary antiquity preserved in monasteries until the Reformation, and, since, in old families that trace their lineage even to the times of the Druids, corroborate the oral tradition. Grave historians of late times give respectful mention to the voyage of Saint Brandan and many prefer a claim to his having been the first European discoverer of America. Some time this winter – 1901-1902 – the author saw in some newspaper a statement purporting to be from some correspondent in Great Britain or Ireland, that a manuscript had been discovered a little before, giving a circumstantial account of this voyage – of the discovery by Brandan of a land of apparently great extent and surpassing beauty – of the entrance by the voyagers into a large bay, their ascent of a wide river that emptied into it, and their final resting at the mouth of another river in a chasm of awful sublimity. The correspondent concludes that Saint Brandan had discovered America – that the bay was the Chesapeake and that the river ascended was the Potomac. If we grant all this, we may conclude, as the correspondent does, that the Saint rested at the mouth of the Shenandoah, on the site of Harper's Ferry. As before noted, there appears to be little doubt of the voyage or of the discovery of some land by Brandan, for the most cautious writers of even the present day refuse to treat the story with contempt, but whether we can confidently follow him all the way from Ireland to our very door at Harper's Ferry or not, is a matter for some consideration and future developments. There is not a man in that town who does not wish the tale to be true, for, besides the poetry of the matter, it would be a feather in the cap of Harper's Ferry that it was presumably under the protection of a saint and an Irish one at that. An Irishman, in the flesh, does not stand on trifles when the interests of his friends are at stake and, when he is translated to Heaven and invested with the dignity of a saint, he may be relied on to put in some heavy licks for any cause or person he loved while on earth. If the tale of the correspondent is true in every respect, Harper's Ferry may be regarded as Saint Brandan's own child – the heir to his fame on earth and the best entitled to all the influence which he may command in Heaven. We must not inquire too closely as to how he got past "The Great Falls" or what induced him to undertake the great labor of the portage.

Within a few years the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company have made great changes at Harper's Ferry, enough to alter its appearance very materially. In the summer of 1892 they commenced the cutting of a tunnel of over eight hundred feet in length through the spur of the Maryland Heights that projects over the old track near the railroad bridge. They also commenced at the same time the erection of stone piers to support a new bridge a little northwest of the old one. The course of the road bed in the town has also been changed, for the old trestling has been abandoned and the track has been laid across the eastern end of the old armory grounds and over a part of the site of John Brown's fort. The principal object of this change was to straighten the road and avoid the dangerous curves at the old bridge and also to do away with the perpetual expense of keeping the trestle work in repair. In consequence, the appearance of the place is greatly changed and not for the better, but, happen what may, the eternal mountains will remain, clothed with the verdure of spring and summer, the purple and gold of autumn, or the snowy mantle of winter, according to the season. The noble and historic rivers, too, will pour their allied waters through the awe inspiring chasm which, in the course of bygone ages, their united strength has cut through the gigantic barrier of the Blue Ridge. The Bald Eagle – king of the birds – will sweep in majestic curves around the turret pinnacles of the Alpine Heights or, poised on outspread wings, will survey his unassailable ancestral domain and, if in the garish light of day, the utter loneliness and wildness of the mountains oppress the imagination, the gloaming and the tender moonbeams will mellow the savage grandeur of the scene and invest it with a dreamy and mystical beauty to soften and enhance its sublimity. Besides, whatever may occur in the future, Harper's Ferry has in the past attained a fame of which even Fate itself cannot deprive it and, as long as poetry, romance and a love of the sublime and beautiful in Nature find a home in the human heart, tourists from all the continents and the isles of the sea will visit it, and the day will never come when there will be no enthusiastic lover of freedom to doff his hat at the shrine of John Brown. He was, anyway, a man of honest convictions who fought desperately and died fearlessly for the faith that was in him, and what hero has done more?

Having spent a long and a very long winter's night in a haunted house with a corpse for his only companion, and having been treated with marked consideration by their ghostships in their not bothering him in any way, the writer feels under obligations to give the spirits a puff and keep alive their memory in an age of skepticism. He, therefore, craves the reader's patience while he relates the history of an invisible but exceedingly potent sprite that kept the neighborhood of Harper's Ferry in a terrible ferment for a long time and that to this day gives a name to a thriving village within a short distance of that town. Tourists who come to historic Harper's Ferry never fail to gather all the stories they can, not only of the town itself, but of the surrounding country, and it is partly for their benefit and partly to honor the spirits that treated him so cleverly, that the author gives the following legend. There are but few, indeed, in northern Virginia, who have not heard the tale a thousand times, with endless variations, all accounts, however, agreeing as to the main facts. The author has heard many versions of it, but he will give it as he got it from a gentleman now deceased – an ex-member of Congress and an ex-minister to one of the most important nations of Europe. This gentleman spent much of his youth in the immediate neighborhood of the village where the great mystery occurred and he was on the most intimate terms with one of the families that were conspicuous in the occurrence. Of course, he gave it as he received it himself. He was born when the spirit was rampant, but he got the story fresh from those who were witnesses to the mystery. He was an eminent man and deeply learned – a graduate of Georgetown College – and the writer would give a great deal to be able to relate the story with the inimitable grace of his informant. Of course, he did not believe the legend himself, but he cherished it as a memory of his childhood and as a choice morsel of folklore.

THE LEGEND OF WIZARD CLIP

In the southwest part of Jefferson county, West Virginia, within less than a mile of the Opequon river so famous in the late war, is a drowsy though well-to-do village that rejoices in three names – Middleway, Smithfield and Wizard Clip. The first of these names it got from its being exactly the same distance from Winchester, Martinsburg and Harper's Ferry, and this is the name acknowledged in the postal service. The second name – Smithfield – is derived from a very respectable family of the far extended Smith clan that has resided there a great many years. The last – Wizard Clip – it got from a singular legend, connected with a house that once stood in the outskirts of the village. This building, except a part of the foundation, has long since succumbed to time. Not far from the site of the house is a tract of land known as "The Priest's Field" which at one time belonged to a resident of the aforesaid mansion – a man named Livingstone – but now forms a part of the lands of Mr. Joseph Minghini. In the old burying ground of the village is, or at least was shown a few years ago, a mound known as "The Stranger's Grave" and these singular names will be explained by the story.

Some time about the commencement of the 19th century a Pennsylvanian, named Livingstone, moved from his native state and purchased the farm on which was the residence above referred to. He and his family took possession of the house, and for several years they prospered. Livingstone used to say that he had been unfortunate in life before his moving to Virginia, and he was fond of contrasting his former failures with his success in his new home. He is said to have been a man of a mild and genial disposition, but tradition has it that his better half was of a different temper and that, figuratively, she wore the garment which is supposed to be the 'special prerogative and attribute of the male sex. The facts of our tale, if indeed, they are bona fide facts at all, appear to bear out the popular estimate of the family, with the addition, perhaps, that Mr. Livingstone was of a credulous turn of mind, which exposed him to the machinations of some designing neighbors, who took advantage of his unsophisticated nature and who, perhaps, were not sorry to punish the wife for her lack of amiability. It should be noted that the period of our tale long antedates railroads and steamboats. Goods were then conveyed entirely by horse power and the principal road from Baltimore and Alexandria to southwest Virginia, Kentucky and Tennessee passed through Middleway. In consequence, long convoys of wagons were constantly passing along this road which was within a few yards of Livingstone's house. About three miles east of this residence, also on this road, lived an Irish family, named McSherry, from whom are sprung the many highly respectable people of that name who now adorn nearly every learned profession in West Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania, especially that of medicine. Between these two residences lived Joseph Minghini – an Italian – the grandfather of the gentleman referred to as now owning the tract of land called "The Priest's Field." The Minghini of our tale had accompanied the famous general Charles Lee from Italy when that eccentric character was obliged to fly from the land of Caesars, but finding himself disappointed in his patron had set up for himself in the neighborhood of Middleway. So much for a preface and now for our story.

One evening a stranger called at Livingstone's house and asked for a night's lodging. This was accorded to him cheerfully by Livingstone and, in justice to the lady of the house, it must be recorded that tradition is silent on the subject of what she thought of her husband's hospitality and, being an impartial chronicler, the writer will give her the benefit of any doubt on the subject, especially as it turned out afterwards that she had good reason to regret her having "taken in the stranger." The family and their guest conversed for a good part of the night, as is customary in Virginia on such occasions, and the new acquaintances separated about 10 o'clock, Mr. Livingstone conducting the stranger to a sleeping apartment and then betaking himself to his own. After having slept some time, the master of the house awoke and became aware of queer noises coming from the direction of his guest's apartment. He arose, knocked at the stranger's door and inquired what was the matter. The occupant replied that he was very sick and that he had a presentment that he could not live 'till daylight. At the same time he entreated that a Catholic priest should be sent for to shrive him – that he had been brought up in the Catholic faith, but that he had neglected religion when in health. Now he would gladly accept its consolations, for he felt himself to be in extremis. Livingstone replied that he knew of no priest of that faith anywhere near, and that he could not hope to find one closer than in Maryland. He remarked, however, that he had neighbors who were Catholics – meaning the McSherrys and the Minghinis – and that they might set him on the track make inquiries of those people. On this, the wife who, too, had been aroused, and woman-like, was listening to the conversation became very angry and told her husband that, if he was fool enough to start out on such a wild-goose chase, she would take good care to thwart him, even if he succeeded in finding the clergyman, which was unlikely enough. She was determined, she said, to hinder any Romish priest from entering her house, and that the best thing Livingstone could do was to return to his bed and leave the stranger to his fate. The good-natured and well-disciplined husband submitted and again retired to slumber. Next morning the guest did not appear for breakfast and Livingstone, a good deal alarmed, went to the stranger's room and found him dead. The neighbors of the family knew nothing of these occurrences, and the Livingstones would not be likely to say much about them, unless they were driven to a disclosure by the pangs of terror and remorse. They, however, had the corpse on their hands, and, of course, the fact of the death could not be concealed. A few neighbors were notified, and the unknown was committed to nameless grave.