A Plea for Captain John Brown
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Henry David Thoreau. >> A Plea for Captain John Brown
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A Plea for Captain John Brown
by Henry David Thoreau
[Read to the citizens of Concord, Mass., Sunday Evening, October 30, 1859.]
I trust that you will pardon me for being here. I do not wish to
force my thoughts upon you, but I feel forced myself. Little as I
know of Captain Brown, I would fain do my part to correct the tone
and the statements of the newspapers, and of my countrymen generally,
respecting his character and actions. It costs us nothing to be
just. We can at least express our sympathy with, and admiration
of, him and his companions, and that is what I now propose to do.
First, as to his history. I will endeavor to omit, as much
as possible, what you have already read. I need not describe his
person to you, for probably most of you have seen and will not
soon forget him. I am told that his grandfather, John Brown, was an
officer in the Revolution; that he himself was born in Connecticut
about the beginning of this century, but early went with his
father to Ohio. I heard him say that his father was a contractor
who furnished beef to the army there, in the war of 1812; that he
accompanied him to the camp, and assisted him in that employment,
seeing a good deal of military life,--more, perhaps, than if he
had been a soldier; for he was often present at the councils of
the officers. Especially, he learned by experience how armies are
supplied and maintained in the field,--a work which, he observed,
requires at least as much experience and skill as to lead them in
battle. He said that few persons had any conception of the cost,
even the pecuniary cost, of firing a single bullet in war. He saw
enough, at any rate, to disgust him with a military life; indeed,
to excite in his a great abhorrence of it; so much so, that though
he was tempted by the offer of some petty office in the army, when
he was about eighteen, he not only declined that, but he also refused
to train when warned, and was fined for it. He then resolved that
he would never have anything to do with any war, unless it were a
war for liberty.
When the troubles in Kansas began, he sent several of his sons
thither to strengthen the party of the Free State men, fitting them
out with such weapons as he had; telling them that if the troubles
should increase, and there should be need of his, he would follow,
to assist them with his hand and counsel. This, as you all know,
he soon after did; and it was through his agency, far more than
any other's, that Kansas was made free.
For a part of his life he was a surveyor, and at one time he was
engaged in wool-growing, and he went to Europe as an agent about
that business. There, as everywhere, he had his eyes about him,
and made many original observations. He said, for instance, that
he saw why the soil of England was so rich, and that of Germany
(I think it was) so poor, and he thought of writing to some of the
crowned heads about it. It was because in England the peasantry
live on the soil which they cultivate, but in Germany they are
gathered into villages, at night. It is a pity that he did not
make a book of his observations.
I should say that he was an old-fashioned man in respect for the
Constitution, and his faith in the permanence of this Union. Slavery
he deemed to be wholly opposed to these, and he was its determined
foe.
He was by descent and birth a New England farmer, a man of great
common-sense, deliberate and practical as that class is, and tenfold
more so. He was like the best of those who stood at Concord Bridge
once, on Lexington Common, and on Bunker Hill, only he was firmer
and higher principled than any that I have chanced to hear of as
there. It was no abolition lecturer that converted him. Ethan
Allen and Stark, with whom he may in some respects be compared, were
rangers in a lower and less important field. They could bravely
face their country's foes, but he had the courage to face his country
herself, when she was in the wrong. A Western writer says, to
account for his escape from so many perils, that he was concealed
under a "rural exterior"; as if, in that prairie land, a hero
should, by good rights, wear a citizen's dress only.
He did not go to the college called Harvard, good old Alma Mater
as she is. He was not fed on the pap that is there furnished. As
he phrased it, "I know no more of grammar than one of your calves."
But he went to the great university of the West, where he sedulously
pursued the study of Liberty, for which he had early betrayed a
fondness, and having taken many degrees, he finally commenced the
public practice of Humanity in Kansas, as you all know. Such were
his humanities and not any study of grammar. He would have left a
Greek accent slanting the wrong way, and righted up a falling man.
He was one of that class of whom we hear a great deal, but, for
the most part, see nothing at all,--the Puritans. It would be in
vain to kill him. He died lately in the time of Cromwell, but he
reappeared here. Why should he not? Some of the Puritan stock
are said to have come over and settled in New England. They were
a class that did something else than celebrate their forefathers'
day, and eat parched corn in remembrance of that time. They
were neither Democrats nor Republicans, but men of simple habits,
straightforward, prayerful; not thinking much of rulers who did not
fear God, not making many compromises, nor seeking after available
candidates.
"In his camp," as one has recently written, and as I have myself
heard him state, "he permitted no profanity; no man of loose morals
was suffered to remain there, unless, indeed, as a prisoner of war.
'I would rather,' said he, 'have the small-pox, yellow-fever, and
cholera, all together in my camp, than a man without principle....
It is a mistake, sir, that our people make, when they think that
bullies are the best fighters, or that they are the fit men to oppose
these Southerners. Give me men of good principles,--God-fearing
men,--men who respect themselves, and with a dozen of them I will
oppose any hundred such men as these Buford ruffians.'" He said
that if one offered himself to be a soldier under him, who was
forward to tell what he could or would do, if he could only get
sight of the enemy, he had but little confidence in him.
He was never able to find more than a score or so of recruits whom
he would accept, and only about a dozen, among them his sons, in
whom he had perfect faith. When he was here, some years ago, he
showed to a few a little manuscript book,--his "orderly book" I
think he called it,--containing the names of his company in Kansas,
and the rules by which they bound themselves; and he stated that
several of them had already sealed the contract with their blood.
When some one remarked that, with the addition of a chaplain, it
would have been a perfect Cromwellian troop, he observed that he
would have been glad to add a chaplain to the list, if he could have
found one who could fill that office worthily. It is easy enough
to find one for the United States army. I believe that he had
prayers in his camp morning and evening, nevertheless.
He was a man of Spartan habits, and at sixty was scrupulous about
his diet at your table, excusing himself by saying that he must
eat sparingly and fare hard, as became a soldier, or one who was
fitting himself for difficult enterprises, a life of exposure.
A man of rare common-sense and directness of speech, as of action;
a transcendentalist above all, a man of ideas and principles,--that
was what distinguished him. Not yielding to a whim or transient
impulse, but carrying out the purpose of a life. I noticed that he
did not overstate anything, but spoke within bounds. I remember,
particularly, how, in his speech here, he referred to what his
family had suffered in Kansas, without ever giving the least vent
to his pent-up fire. It was a volcano with an ordinary chimney-flue.
Also referring to the deeds of certain Border Ruffians, he said,
rapidly paring away his speech, like an experienced soldier,
keeping a reserve of force and meaning, "They had a perfect right
to be hung." He was not in the least a rhetorician, was not talking
to Buncombe or his constituents anywhere, had no need to invent
anything but to tell the simple truth, and communicate his own
resolution; therefore he appeared incomparably strong, and eloquence
in Congress and elsewhere seemed to me at a discount. It was like
the speeches of Cromwell compared with those of an ordinary king.
As for his tact and prudence, I will merely say, that at a time
when scarcely a man from the Free States was able to reach Kansas
by any direct route, at least without having his arms taken from
him, he, carrying what imperfect guns and other weapons he could
collect, openly and slowly drove an ox-cart through Missouri,
apparently in the capacity of a surveyor, with his surveying compass
exposed in it, and so passed unsuspected, and had ample opportunity
to learn the designs of the enemy. For some time after his arrival
he still followed the same profession. When, for instance, he saw
a knot of the ruffians on the prairie, discussing, of course, the
single topic which then occupied their minds, he would, perhaps,
take his compass and one of his sons, and proceed to run an
imaginary line right through the very spot on which that conclave
had assembled, and when he came up to them, he would naturally
pause and have some talk with them, learning their news, and, at
last, all their plans perfectly; and having thus completed his real
survey he would resume his imaginary one, and run on his line till
he was out of sight.
When I expressed surprise that he could live in Kansas at all,
with a price set upon his head, and so large a number, including
the authorities, exasperated against him, he accounted for it by
saying, "It is perfectly well understood that I will not be taken."
Much of the time for some years he has had to skulk in swamps,
suffering from poverty and from sickness, which was the consequence
of exposure, befriended only by Indians and a few whites. But
though it might be known that he was lurking in a particular swamp,
his foes commonly did not care to go in after him. He could even
come out into a town where there were more Border Ruffians than
Free State men, and transact some business, without delaying long,
and yet not be molested; for, said he, "No little handful of men
were willing to undertake it, and a large body could not be got
together in season."
As for his recent failure, we do not know the facts about it. It
was evidently far from being a wild and desperate attempt. His
enemy, Mr. Vallandigham, is compelled to say, that "it was among
the best planned executed conspiracies that ever failed."
Not to mention his other successes, was it a failure, or did it
show a want of good management, to deliver from bondage a dozen
human beings, and walk off with them by broad daylight, for weeks
if not months, at a leisurely pace, through one State after another,
for half the length of the North, conspicuous to all parties, with
a price set upon his head, going into a court-room on his way and
telling what he had done, thus convincing Missouri that it was not
profitable to try to hold slaves in his neighborhood?--and this,
not because the government menials were lenient, but because they
were afraid of him.
Yet he did not attribute his success, foolishly, to "his star,"
or to any magic. He said, truly, that the reason why such greatly
superior numbers quailed before him was, as one of his prisoners
confessed, because they lacked a cause,--a kind of armor which he
and his party never lacked. When the time came, few men were found
willing to lay down their lives in defence of what they knew to
be wrong; they did not like that this should be their last act in
this world.
But to make haste to his last act, and its effects.
The newspapers seem to ignore, or perhaps are really ignorant of the
fact, that there are at least as many as two or three individuals
to a town throughout the North who think much as the present speaker
does about him and his enterprise. I do not hesitate to say that
they are an important and growing party. We aspire to be something
more than stupid and timid chattels, pretending to read history and
our Bibles, but desecrating every house and every day we breathe
in. Perhaps anxious politicians may prove that only seventeen
white men and five negroes were concerned in the late enterprise;
but their very anxiety to prove this might suggest to themselves
that all is not told. Why do they still dodge the truth? They
are so anxious because of a dim consciousness of the fact, which
they do not distinctly face, that at least a million of the free
inhabitants of the United States would have rejoiced if it had
succeeded. They at most only criticise the tactics. Though we wear
no crape, the thought of that man's position and probable fate is
spoiling many a man's day here at the North for other thinking.
If any one who has seen him here can pursue successfully any other
train of thought, I do not know what he is made of. If there is
any such who gets his usual allowance of sleep, I will warrant him
to fatten easily under any circumstances which do not touch his
body or purse. I put a piece of paper and a pencil under my pillow,
and when I could not sleep, I wrote in the dark.
On the whole, my respect for my fellow-men, except as one may outweigh
a million, is not being increased these days. I have noticed the
cold-blooded way in which newspaper writers and men generally speak
of this event, as if an ordinary malefactor, though one of unusual
"pluck,"--as the Governor of Virginia is reported to have said, using
the language of the cock-pit, "the gamest man he ever saw,"--had
been caught, and were about to be hung. He was not dreaming of his
foes when the governor thought he looked so brave. It turns what
sweetness I have to gall, to hear, or hear of, the remarks of some
of my neighbors. When we heard at first that he was dead, one of my
townsmen observed that "he died as the fool dieth"; which, pardon
me, for an instant suggested a likeness in him dying to my neighbor
living. Others, craven-hearted, said disparagingly, that "he
threw his life away," because he resisted the government. Which
way have they thrown their lives, pray?--such as would praise a man
for attacking singly an ordinary band of thieves or murderers. I
hear another ask, Yankee-like, "What will he gain by it?" as if he
expected to fill his pockets by this enterprise. Such a one has
no idea of gain but in this worldly sense. If it does not lead to
a "surprise" party, if he does not get a new pair of boots, or a
vote of thanks, it must be a failure. "But he won't gain anything
by it." Well, no, I don't suppose he could get four-and-sixpence
a day for being hung, take the year round; but then he stands a chance
to save a considerable part of his soul,--and such a soul!--when
you do not. No doubt you can get more in your market for a quart
of milk than for a quart of blood, but that is not the market that
heroes carry their blood to.
Such do not know that like the seed is the fruit, and that, in the
moral world, when good seed is planted, good fruit is inevitable,
and does not depend on our watering and cultivating; that when you
plant, or bury, a hero in his field, a crop of heroes is sure to
spring up. This is a seed of such force and vitality, that it does
not ask our leave to germinate.
The momentary charge at Balaclava, in obedience to a blundering
command, proving what a perfect machine the soldier is, has, properly
enough, been celebrated by a poet laureate; but the steady, and
for the most part successful, charge of this man, for some years,
against the legions of Slavery, in obedience to an infinitely higher
command, is as much more memorable than that, as an intelligent
and conscientious man is superior to a machine. Do you think that
that will go unsung?
"Served him right,"--"A dangerous man,"--"He is undoubtedly insane."
So they proceed to live their sane, and wise, and altogether admirable
lives, reading their Plutarch a little, but chiefly pausing at that
feat of Putnam, who was let down into a wolf's den; and in this
wise they nourish themselves for brave and patriotic deeds some
time or other. The Tract Society could afford to print that story
of Putnam. You might open the district schools with the reading of
it, for there is nothing about Slavery or the Church in it; unless
it occurs to the reader that some pastors are wolves in sheep's
clothing. "The American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions"
even, might dare to protest against that wolf. I have heard of
boards, and of American boards, but it chances that I never heard
of this particular lumber till lately. And yet I hear of Northern
men, and women, and children, by families, buying a "life membership"
in such societies as these. A life-membership in the grave! You
can get buried cheaper than that.
Our foes are in our midst and all about us. There is hardly
a house but is divided against itself, for our foe is the all but
universal woodenness of both head and heart, the want of vitality
in man, which is the effect of our vice; and hence are begotten
fear, superstition, bigotry, persecution, and slavery of all kinds.
We are mere figureheads upon a hulk, with livers in the place of
hearts. The curse is the worship of idols, which at length changes
the worshipper into a stone image himself; and the New-Englander is
just as much an idolater as the Hindoo. This man was an exception,
for he did not set up even a political graven image between him
and his God.
A church that can never have done with excommunicating Christ while
it exists! Away with your broad and flat churches, and your narrow
and tall churches! Take a step forward, and invent a new style
of out-houses. Invent a salt that will save you, and defend our
nostrils.
The modern Christian is a man who has consented to say all the
prayers in the liturgy, provided you will let him go straight to
bed and sleep quietly afterward. All his prayers begin with "Now
I lay me down to sleep," and he is forever looking forward to the
time when he shall go to his "long rest." He has consented to
perform certain old-established charities, too, after a fashion,
but he does not wish to hear of any new-fangled ones; he doesn't
wish to have any supplementary articles added to the contract, to
fit it to the present time. He shows the whites of his eyes on the
Sabbath, and the blacks all the rest of the week. The evil is not
merely a stagnation of blood, but a stagnation of spirit. Many,
no doubt, are well disposed, but sluggish by constitution and by
habit, and they cannot conceive of a man who is actuated by higher
motives than they are. Accordingly they pronounce this man insane,
for they know that they could never act as he does, as long as they
are themselves.
We dream of foreign countries, of other times and races of men, placing
them at a distance in history or space; but let some significant
event like the present occur in our midst, and we discover, often,
this distance and this strangeness between us and our nearest
neighbors. They are our Austrias, and Chinas, and South Sea Islands.
Our crowded society becomes well spaced all at once, clean and
handsome to the eye,--a city of magnificent distances. We discover
why it was that we never got beyond compliments and surfaces with
them before; we become aware of as many versts between us and them
as there are between a wandering Tartar and a Chinese town. The
thoughtful man becomes a hermit in the thoroughfares of the
market-place. Impassable seas suddenly find their level between us,
or dumb steppes stretch themselves out there. It is the difference
of constitution, of intelligence, and faith, and not streams and
mountains, that make the true and impassable boundaries between
individuals and between states. None but the like-minded can come
plenipotentiary to our court.
I read all the newspapers I could get within a week after this event,
and I do not remember in them a single expression of sympathy for
these men. I have since seen one noble statement, in a Boston
paper, not editorial. Some voluminous sheets decided not to print
the full report of Brown's words to the exclusion of other matter.
It was as if a publisher should reject the manuscript of the New
Testament, and print Wilson's last speech. The same journal which
contained this pregnant news, was chiefly filled, in parallel
columns, with the reports of the political conventions that were
being held. But the descent to them was too steep. They should
have been spared this contrast,--been printed in an extra, at least.
To turn from the voices and deeds of earnest men to the cackling
of political conventions! Office-seekers and speech-makers, who
do not so much as lay an honest egg, but wear their breasts bare
upon an egg of chalk! Their great game is the game of straws,
or rather that universal aboriginal game of the platter, at which
the Indians cried hub, bub! Exclude the reports of religious and
political conventions, and publish the words of a living man.
But I object not so much to what they have omitted, as to what they
have inserted. Even the Liberator called it "a misguided, wild,
and apparently insane--effort." As for the herd of newspapers and
magazines, I do not chance to know an editor in the country who
will deliberately print anything which he knows will ultimately
and permanently reduce the number of his subscribers. They do not
believe that it would be expedient. How then can they print truth?
If we do not say pleasant things, they argue, nobody will attend
to us. And so they do like some travelling auctioneers, who sing
an obscene song, in order to draw a crowd around them. Republican
editors, obliged to get their sentences ready for the morning
edition, and accustomed to look at everything by the twilight of
politics, express no admiration, nor true sorrow even, but call these
men "deluded fanatics,"--"mistaken men,"--"insane," or "crazed."
It suggests what a sane set of editors we are blessed with, not
"mistaken men"; who know very well on which side their bread is
buttered, at least.
A man does a brave and humane deed, and at once, on all sides, we
hear people and parties declaring, "I didn't do it, nor countenance
him to do it, in any conceivable way. It can't be fairly inferred
from my past career." I, for one, am not interested to hear you
define your position. I don't know that I ever was, or ever shall
be. I think it is mere egotism, or impertinent at this time. Ye
needn't take so much pains to wash your skirts of him. No intelligent
man will ever be convinced that he was any creature of yours. He
went and came, as he himself informs us, "under the auspices of
John Brown and nobody else." The Republican party does not perceive
how many his failure will make to vote more correctly than they
would have them. They have counted the votes of Pennsylvania & Co.,
but they have not correctly counted Captain Brown's vote. He has
taken the wind out of their sails,--the little wind they had,--and
they may as well lie to and repair.
What though he did not belong to your clique! Though you may not
approve of his method or his principles, recognize his magnanimity.
Would you not like to claim kindredship with him in that, though
in no other thing he is like, or likely, to you? Do you think that
you would lose your reputation so? What you lost at the spile,
you would gain at the bung.
If they do not mean all this, then they do not speak the truth,
and say what they mean. They are simply at their old tricks still.
"It was always conceded to him," says one who calls him crazy, "that
he was a conscientious man, very modest in his demeanor, apparently
inoffensive, until the subject of Slavery was introduced, when he
would exhibit a feeling of indignation unparalleled."
The slave-ship is on her way, crowded with its dying victims; new
cargoes are being added in mid-ocean a small crew of slaveholders,
countenanced by a large body of passengers, is smothering four
millions under the hatches, and yet the politician asserts that the
only proper way by which deliverance is to be obtained, is by "the
quiet diffusion of the sentiments of humanity," without any "outbreak."
As if the sentiments of humanity were ever found unaccompanied by
its deeds, and you could disperse them, all finished to order, the
pure article, as easily as water with a watering-pot, and so lay
the dust. What is that that I hear cast overboard? The bodies
of the dead that have found deliverance. That is the way we are
"diffusing" humanity, and its sentiments with it.