Old John Brown, the man whose soul is marching on by Walter Hawkins
page 41 of 53 (77%)
page 41 of 53 (77%)
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he resigned leadership, but the little group passed a horrible
five minutes of bereavement and then re-elected him with many promises of support. Sublime old madman!--if mad indeed he was! Had he not made them all feel like himself, 'that they have but one life and once to die; and if they lose their lives perchance it will do more for the cause than their lives would be worth in any other way?' One reluctant darkie, rescued by him from slavery, was challenged to say what he would do. He hesitated--looked at his shaggy old benefactor, and then, with heart surcharged with gratitude, said, 'I believe I'll go wid de ole man.' Ah! the old man's soul had entered into them--it kept them 'marching on.' In the dark, wet night of October 16, 1859, they mustered quietly. The captain addressed them, and he was no reckless destroyer of human life who thus spake: 'Gentlemen, let me press this one thing on your minds. You all know how dear life is to you, and how dear your lives are to your friends; and in remembering that, consider that the lives of others are as dear. Do not therefore take the life of any one if you can possibly avoid it, but if it is necessary to take life in order to save your own, then make sure work of it.' Two of them were deputed to hasten, when the town was in their hands, to Colonel Washington's house, four miles distant--to seize him, free his slaves, and take the relic of the house, the famed sword of his illustrious ancestor George Washington, that with this in hand John Brown might head the campaign. That feat they actually performed, and for one brief day their leader bore |
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