“I come direct from the National Kansas Committee in Chicago. They will perhaps equip a company. I have letters from Governor Chase and Governor Robinson. They endorse my plan.”
Douglass expressed his pleased surprise. Brown wiped his shaggy beard. Something like a grin flickered on his face.
“Kansas is free and the good people are glad to be rid of me,” he said dryly.
Douglass understood: they dared not jail the man.
Brown’s plan was now complete. He spread out maps and papers and, as he talked, traced the lines of his march with a blunt pencil.
“God has established the Allegheny Mountains from the foundation of the world that they might one day be a refuge for the slaves. We march into these mountains, set up our stations about five miles apart, send out our call; and, as the slaves flock to us, we sustain them in this natural fortress.”
Douglass followed the line of his pencil.
“Each group will be well armed,” the old man continued, “but will avoid violence except in self-defense. In that case, they will make it as costly as possible to the assailing parties—whether they be citizens or soldiers. We will break the backbone of slavery by rendering slave property insecure. Men will not invest their money in a species of property likely to take legs and walk off with itself!” His eyes were shining.
“I do not grudge the money or energy I have spent in Kansas,” he went on, “but now my funds are gone. We must have arms, ammunition, food and clothing. Later we will subsist upon the country roundabout. I now have the nucleus of my band.” Shadows crossed his face. “Already they have gone to hell and back with me.”
He talked on—three military schools to be set up, one in Iowa, one in northern Ohio and one in Canada. It would be a permanent community in Canada. “Finally the escaped slaves will pass on to Canada, each doing his share to strengthen the route,” he explained.