William Lehman, who was killed on a rock in the Potomac while endeavoring to escape, was quite a young man, with jet black hair and a very florid complexion. The killing of this young man was, under all circumstances of the case, an act of great barbarity, as he had made signs of a desire to surrender. The man who shot him was, as before stated, but a temporary resident of Harper's Ferry and, in reality, belonged to a neighboring county. Nothing can be gained by giving his name and the concealing of it may save people yet unborn from unmerited shame. In justice it must be said that he now claims that Lehman drew a pistol to shoot him, but we did not hear of this until very lately.
William Thompson, who was shot on the bridge, was a man apparently of about thirty years of age, of medium size, but of a symmetrical and compact form. His complexion was fair, and he gave indications of being a man of pleasant disposition. He was well known to many in the neighborhood of the Kennedy farm and he was very popular with all his acquaintances there. The killing of this man was unnecessary, also, but some palliation for it may be found in the excitement caused by Mr. Beckham's death.
John or, as he was sometimes called, Henrie Kagi, is said to have been a remarkably fine looking man, with a profusion of black hair and a flowing beard of the same color. He was about thirty years of age, tall and portly, and he did not display the same ferocity that many of the others exhibited. He was "secretary of war" under Brown's provisional government and he held the rank of captain. He is supposed to have been a native of Ohio. He was killed in the Shenandoah near the rifle factory.
Of Charles P. Tydd little is known. It is said that, before the raid, he used to peddle books through the neighborhood of Harper's Ferry. As far as ascertained, he did not appear in the fight, but escaped from Maryland to parts unknown. It is said that he was a native of Maine.
Respecting the identity of Oliver and Jeremiah Anderson there is a doubt, as in the case of the young Browns. One of them was killed by the marines, but what became of the other is unknown. The man who was killed was about thirty years of age, of middle stature, very black hair and swarthy complexion. He was supposed by some to be a Canadian mulatto. As before noted, he is confounded by many with Stuart Taylor. He received three or four bayonet stabs in the breast and stomach and, when he was dragged out of the engine house to the flagged walk in front of that building, he was yet alive and vomiting gore from internal hemorrhage. While he was in this condition a farmer from some part of the surrounding country came up and viewed him in silence, but with a look of concentrated bitterness. Not a word did the countryman utter, as he thought, no doubt, that no amount of cursing could do justice to his feelings. He passed on to another part of the armory yard and did not return for a considerable time. When he came back Anderson was yet breathing and the farmer thus addressed him: "Well, it takes you a h— of a long time to die." If Anderson had vitality enough left in him to hear the words this soothing remark must have contributed greatly to smooth his way to the unknown land of disembodied spirits. The writer heard from very good authority that another and still greater barbarity was practised towards this helpless man while he was in the death agony. Some brute in human shape, it is said, squirted tobacco juice and dropped his quid into the dying man's eye. The writer did not see the latter occurrence, but it was related by witnesses of undoubted veracity. After death, also, this man—Anderson—was picked out for special attentions. Some physicians of Winchester, Virginia, fancied him as a subject for dissection and nem. con. they got possession of his body. In order to take him away handily they procured a barrel and tried to pack him into it. Head foremost, they rammed him in, but they could not bend his legs so as to get them into the barrel with the rest of the body. In their endeavors to accomplish this feat they strained so hard that the man's bones or sinews fairly cracked. These praiseworthy exertions of those sons of Galen in the cause of science and humanity elicited the warmest expressions of approval from the spectators. The writer does not know, certainly, what final disposition they made of the subject which the Fates provided for them, without the expense or risk of robbing a grave.
'Dolph Thompson was quite a boy and he appeared to be an unwilling participator in the transaction. He was seen by not more than two or three of the citizens, and it is supposed that he escaped early on the 17th. He had fair hair and a florid complexion.
Dangerfield Newby was a tall and well built mulatto, aged about thirty years. He had a rather pleasant face and address. He was shot and killed at the Arsenal gate by somebody in Mrs. Butler's house opposite, about 11 o'clock, a.m., on Monday, and his body lay where it fell until the afternoon of Tuesday. The bullet struck him in the lower part of the neck and went down into his body, the person who shot him being in a position more elevated than the place where Newby was standing. Mr. Jacob Bajeant, of Harper's Ferry, used to claim the credit of having fired the fatal shot, and the people generally accorded him the honor. A near relative and namesake of George Washington disputes Bajeant's claim and is confident that it was a shot from his rifle that put an end to Newby's career. Mr. Bajeant is now dead and it is not likely that the question will be brought up again. From the relative positions of the parties, the size of the bullet or some other circumstance, the hole in Newby's neck was very large, and the writer heard a wag remark that he believed a smoothing iron had been shot into him. The writer has no intention to make light, as might appear from the following, of what was a fearful occurrence. He relates the simple truth, as many can attest. Some fastidious critics have objected to the details of this tragedy in former editions of this book, but Truth is mighty and ought to prevail. That Newby's body was torn by hogs at Harper's Ferry is too well known to require an apology for a relation of the facts, although the details are undoubtedly disgusting. Shortly after Newby's death a hog came up, rooted around the spot where the body lay and, at first appeared to be unconscious that anything extraordinary was in its way. After a while, the hog paused and looked attentively at the body, then snuffed around it and put its snout to the dead man's face. Suddenly, the brute was apparently seized with a panic and, with bristles erect and drooping tail, it scampered away, as if for dear life. This display of sensibility did not, however, deter others of the same species from crowding around the corpse and almost literally devouring it. The writer saw all this with his own eyes, as the saying is, and, at the risk of further criticism, he will remark that none of the good people of Harper's Ferry appeared to be at all squeamish about the quality or flavor of their pork that winter. Nobody thought on the subject or, if anybody did recall the episode, it was, no doubt, to give credit to the hogs for their rough treatment of the invaders.
On Tuesday evening, after Brown's capture, and when the people were somewhat relieved from the terror of a more extensive and dangerous invasion, a citizen of Harper's Ferry, who had not had a chance to distinguish himself in the skirmish of Monday, fired a shot into what was left of Newby's body, a feat which, it must be supposed, tended to exalt him, at least, in his own estimation. Like Kirkpatrick at the murder of the Red Comyn, he thought he would "make sicker" and guard against any possibility of the dead man's reviving. The citizen referred to was somewhat under the influence of whiskey when he fired the superfluous shot, but the writer saw another man who was apparently sober and who was certainly a person of excellent standing in the community, kick the dead man in the face and, on the whole, great a crime as the invasion of the place was and natural as the animosity towards the raiders should be considered, it must be confessed that the treatment the lifeless bodies of those wretched men received from some of the infuriated populace was far from creditable to the actors or to human nature in general.
Shields Greene alias "Emperor" was a negro of the blackest hue, small in stature and very active in his movements. He seemed to be very officious in the early part of Monday, flitting about from place to place, and he was evidently conscious of his own great importance in the enterprise. It is supposed that it was he that killed Mr. Boerly. He is said to have been a resident of the State of New York, but little is known with certainty about him. He was very insulting to Brown's prisoners, constantly presenting his rifle and threatening to shoot some of them. He was aged about thirty years.
John Copeland was a mulatto of medium size, and about twenty-five years of age. He was a resident of Oberlin, Ohio, where he carried on the carpenter business for some years.