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

and deep curses were uttered by some sensitive and indiscreet piece workers, and that the august presence of "Tyler too" had not the effect of awing the bold navigators into suitable respect for the head of the nation. They returned home wiser but hardly better men and, from that period dates the bitter opposition of many Harper's Ferry people to the military system of superintendency which continued until the final overthrow of that order of things in 1854. This contest is the chief event of the time of Colonel Craig's command.

      The Colonel was a veteran of the war of 1812. He had served on the Canadian frontier with General Scott and had received a severe wound in the leg, the effects of which were, ever after, apparent in his walk. He was not, however, a graduate of West Point.

      He was succeeded in 1844 by Major John Symington, another military officer and the same who, with an inferior rank, had superintended the armory, pro tem, during the second trial of Mr. Stubblefield. Major Symington was an exceedingly eccentric man. His talents were undoubted and he got credit for many virtues, but his oddities detracted much from his usefulness. His voice was of a peculiar intonation and his gestures were odd, but withal, he had a clear head and a good heart and, during his administration, many improvements were made at his suggestion, and the people were generally prosperous. The shops were remodeled, and many believe that he did more for the prosperity of the place than any other superintendent. Those who knew him best asserted that his eccentricities were mere pretense and assumed for the gratification of a latent vein of humor. On the whole, he is remembered with very kind feelings. Like other superintendents, he was much annoyed with applications for employment. People of every trade and calling, when out of work, thought they had a right to a part of the government patronage, no matter how unsuited they were, from their former occupations, to serve as armorers. One day the Major was troubled by more than the usual number of applicants and his temper was sorely tried. Towards evening a stranger presented himself and made the stereotyped request for work. "Well," said the Major, rubbing his hands in a manner peculiar to himself, "What is your trade?" "I am a saddler and harnessmaker," replied the stranger. "Oh," said the Major, "we do not make leather guns here. When we do we will send for you."

      He made it a point to exact from his subordinates the most literal obedience to his orders and, while he must have often regretted his having issued absurd commands while in his pets, he always gave credit to those who carried them out fully. He had a colored servant on whom he could always rely for the exact performance of his most unreasonable orders. One day, this servant carried to the dinner table a magnificent turkey, cooked in the most approved fashion, but the Major was in one of his tantrums and would not endure the sight of the sumptuous feast. "Take it to the window and throw it out," said he, in the querulous tone peculiar to him and, perhaps, to his surprise, the command was instantly obeyed. The servant raised the window and pitched out into the lawn, turkey, dish and all. The Major commended his servant's obedience and was instantly appeased and induced to settle down to his dinner.

      In his time, one of those exhibitions then rare, but unfortunately too common now – a prize fight – took place at, or very near Harper's Ferry. The then notorious Yankee Sullivan and an English bruiser named Ben Caunt, met by appointment there in 1846, and treated the people to one of those brutal shows. Caunt came to Harper's Ferry several weeks before the fight and there he went through his course of training. He was the favorite with the people, no doubt, because of his nationality – most of the armorers being descended from Birmingham gun-smiths. Sullivan arrived on the night before the encounter and with him came a crowd of shoulder-hitters, pick-pockets, et hoc genus omne. They took possession of the town and, until the fight was decided, the utmost terror prevailed among the peaceable inhabitants. The battle ground was outside the town limits, east of the Shenandoah, in a meadow near what is called "the old still-house," on the line of Jefferson and Loudoun counties. Sullivan won the fight, but the exhibition broke up in a general row.

      In the summer of 1850, the fearful scourge – the Asiatic cholera again made its appearance at the place and decimated the people. Although it is said that the ravages of this pestilence are mostly confined to people of dissolute habits, it was not so in this case, for it visited the homes of rich and poor indiscriminately, and all classes suffered equally. It is estimated that over one hundred people at the place perished by this epidemic and, the town having been deserted by all who could leave it, business, too, suffered severely.

      Major Symington was succeeded, in 1851, by Colonel Benjamin Huger. He was of Huguenot extraction and a native of South Carolina. His administration was not marked by any very important events. The excitement against the military system that arose in the time of Colonel Craig continued unabated. During Colonel Huger's superintendency in 1851, a sad accident occurred at Harper's Ferry. On the opening of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad from Cumberland to Fairmont, an excursion train containing the principal officers of the road proceeded from Baltimore to what was then the western terminus of that great channel of commerce. A number of Harper's Ferry people determined to give them a salute, as they passed that station, and, with this purpose, they loaded an old twelve-pounder cannon which was kept at the armory for such occasions. Through some mismanagement, there was a premature explosion which caused the death of two colored men. One of them, named John Butler, was a veteran of the war of 1812 and had been long a resident of the town. The other, named Scipio, was, too, like Butler, well known and respected at the place. A third party, a white man, named James O'Laughlin, to whose want of forethought the accident was attributed, lost his life shortly afterwards by being run over by the railway cars, in front of the ticket office.

      In 1852, on an order from the Secretary of War, the government disposed of a considerable portion of its property at Harper's Ferry to employes at the armory. Many of those people desired to purchase houses and the government deemed it politic to encourage them in so doing. The plan insured a number of prudent, sober and steady mechanics for employment in the government works – men who, having a deep interest in the place, would consult the well-being of society there and would feel the more attached to the public service. Therefore, many houses and lots were disposed of at public sale and, at the same time, many donations of land were made by the government for religious, educational and town purposes.

      In 1852 there was a remarkable inundation at Harper's Ferry – the greatest that, up to that time, had occurred there – at least since the settlement of the place by white people. The winter of 1851-1852 was exceedingly severe. From November until April, the snow lay deep upon the ground, and when, about the middle of the latter month, there was a heavy and warm rain for several days, the snow melted rapidly and an unprecedented flood was the consequence. The Potomac, swollen by a thousand tributaries, the smallest of which might aspire, at the time, to the dignity of a river, rolled in an irresistible tide and was met by the Shenandoah with the accumulated waters of the whole upper Valley of Virginia. The town was literally submerged and large boats were propelled with oar and pole along the principal streets. Of course, much damage was done to property, but no loss of life on that occasion is recorded. Similar inundations we have mentioned as having occurred there in Mr. Harper's time, and in 1832 a very remarkable one took place which is fresh in the memories of a few of the citizens. Indeed, there is a belief that at least once in every twenty years the town is partially submerged. Since the war these inundations are more frequent and far more injurious than they were before, because of the wholesale destruction of the forests for the use of the armies during the civil war, and the increased demand for timber for mercantile purposes. The day will come when legislation must step in to prevent this evil and when the American people must take a lesson from certain European governments in which the state takes charge of the forests and regulates the cutting down and planting of trees. The suggestion is, perhaps, an unpopular one, but it may be right nevertheless.

      It may be observed that Colonel Huger afterwards became a general in the service of the Confederacy and obtained some fame in the seven days' fighting before Richmond.

      Colonel Huger was succeeded, in 1854, by Major Bell, who was the last of the military superintendents. He "reigned" but a few months, the government having decided about the end of that year to change the system of armory superintendence back from the military to the civil order. There was great rejoicing among the anti-military men and a corresponding depression among those of the opposite party, for the military system had many friends at the place, although they were in a minority.

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