s,' and man by man they
swore the Browns should be killed by their hands. Back he went saying
to himself, 'If I understand the Book these are murderers, they have
committed murder in their hearts.' Ere many nights were passed eight
men were requisitioned from the camp. They stole forth armed with
short cutlasses, and next morning the ghastly news spread abroad that
five corpses had been found by that creek. John Brown, jun., said,
'The only statement that I ever heard my father make in regard to this
was "I did not myself kill any of those men at Pottawatomie, but I am
as fully responsible as if I did."' It was a terrible act; we cannot
wonder that it came as a great shock to many who had the cause of
liberty at heart, but when questioned about it the old man was always
reticent, and would only say, 'God is my Judge.'

The result was unmistakable. From that moment John Brown's name became
a terror to the evildoers of that quarter. The free settlers felt
there was another fate than extermination for them, and the impotent
administration at Washington first began to see that this hitherto
submissive majority of free settlers must be reckoned with. A writer
said years after, 'It was like a clap of thunder from a clear sky.'
There are acts that can only be morally estimated by a careful
consideration of the prevailing circumstances, and in this case they
are such as we, well housed and protected folk, thank God, know not.
Those who knew this man through and through were swift to testify,
'Whatever may be thought of John Brown's acts, John Brown himself was
right.' No personal end had he to serve; his harvest was privation,
suffering, death. He had no personal vengeance to wreak, and when
revengeful words were spoken in his hearing he soon lifted the
conversation to a sublime level.

'That,' said he, 'is not a Christian spirit. If I thought I had one
bit of the spirit of revenge I would never lift my hand. I do not make
war on slave-holders, but on slavery.'

Henceforth John Brown's little band was famous. A few days after the
Pottawatomie tragedy we find him engaging a company under Captain Fate,
who professed, with doubtful authority, to be the emissary of the
Government. Hearing after prayer meeting one Sunday they are in the
neighbourhood, he is quickly in pursuit as soon as night has set in,
and in the morning with a handful of men he is exchanging brisk fire
with the enemy. Presently Fred Brown, a wild