Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1874-03-04
The Sons of John Brown.

On the eastern shore of Put-in-Bay island,
in Lake Erie quite out of the way of the
summer pleasurer at the great hotels OF
the northern shore. stands the two-story
frame farm house of John Brown, Jr. 1t
rises out of a fair landscape of sunny vine
yards, the path to it from the main road
leading through Il tangle of grapes. a |
natural lawn slopes prettlly from the house /
down to the water, across which, seven or
eight miles away, Kelley's island and the
Ohio mainland look dreamilv, in the half
tropical manner of most Lake Erie scene
~. All these wine islands, indeed, see
one another dimly and drowsily, us if drunk
with the mellowness of their own vintages.
In this quiet place, after fighting his enc
mics in Kansas, and being driven by them
in chains till the iron had worn its way
into the flesh. after being hunted from
place to place for the attempt ut Harpers
Ferry, although he was not there; and
after having to leave the company he led
to the late war on account of disease con-
tracted in the first battles against slavery
in this quiet place, | say, lives John
Brown, .Jr. He moved here, nine or ten
wears ago, when these pleasant vineyards
were wild land; and now so modest and
peaceable is he that YOU would never
imagine he had fired Il gun in his life.
/ When | called ut this house and inquired
for Mr.. Brown, the plain, motherly Hooking
woman who came to the door asked which
Mr.. Brown | wanted John or Owen
This mild-voiced matrOn, as | afterward
found, was John Brown, Jr. 5, wife. who
had shared the dangers and hardshipS of
Kansas border-life with her husband; and
it was from her then and there, that
} learned Owen Brown was on the island.
She told me the two brothers We're NOW
) ing in a neighboring field. And there
found them: John, 4 large, well-made
man, Owen slenderer, though above the
! middle hight, and of the two looking more
like the old hero ofOsSawattomie. They
each have bushy eyebrows and wear Il full
beard, sandy, us their fathers was once,
and beginning to whiten, as he did at their
ages Owen shows. perhaps, all his forty
nine years, while John looks younger al
fittv-two. They were both in their hicko
ry shirt sleeves, and wore trousers of blue
; drilling; but | have seen no hantsomel
: men among the throngs who have com,
j. and gone ut the fashionable hotels, in tn,
~ COURSE of my summers soiourn on the
), island Certainly have met no one, Il
u Put-in-Bav, OF anywhere else, who had t,
: IL higher degree that subtle quality whicl
, can make the texture of any given attir.
3 gentlemanly.
There, coming up to the fence to salut
me, was the eldest of John Browns sons
;, the quiet, genial, warm-hearted farmer
Il amateur geologist and land surveyor, JOIN
Il Il Brown, Jr. And there, leaning on hi
y scvthe, was Owen Brown, the sole survi
y vor of the little party he led through th
u mountains, in that marvellous escape G
;, his, and-if, as is supposed, Osborn Ander
~ son, the mulatto, is dead-the only on
'" living of all the company that went wit
~ ~ Captain John Brown to Harper Ferry
~ There was Il gentle courtesy in the tai
and manner OF both these men that car
not write down for you; and surely neve
W met more thorough, genuine modesty
~ At that first interview, could get them I
-, 20 say little of themselves. They had hear
n to somewhat of my wayward story; and wit
~ the curiosity, not of ignorant, but of wei
read, well-bred men, they questioned II
back, so 10 speak, into some of the by-wa,
or of my early experience. They were pa
If ticularly curious about certain rarely visi
rv ed places beyond the sea. | tell this, b
q cause it may help you to see the picture
. these two men as saw it, looking bat
. after parting with them that summer afte
:" w noon. They stood leaning against Il
~ rail-fence, their scythes on their shoulder
w gazing silently after me; and as the slar
ing sunlight fell upon their honest faces,
could see as plainly, it seems to me, as
'es ever saw anything, not the stern line
er- ments of historic warriors, who have go
back to their farms, but an artless aspil
ton, like that of the village boy fort
to sailors adventurous life. These men, u
mindful of the part they had had in dee
which, we'll or ill-advised, have sent t
world along. were modestly putting I
pigmy story ahead of their heroic one,