”Gentlemen, I consider the Golden Rule and the Declaration of Independence one and inseparable. And it is better that a whole generation of men, women, and children should be swept away rather than this crime of slavery should exist one day longer.”
~John Brown
”For he did not use argument. He was himself an argument.”
W.E.B. Du Bois’s biography of John Brown must be considered a monumental work for a variety of reasons. Top-most, this work, published in 1909, flew in the face of then current scholarly opinion that John Brown was a no account mad man and that his work was insignificant to American history. (This would remain the consensus on Brown throughout most of the 20th century, and was what I was taught in school.) Instead, Du Bois treated Brown, his actions, his motives, his designs, seriously, and put them in context of the turmoil of the 1850s as the country split over the slavery issue. Importantly, this biography was published just 50 years after Brown’s execution, when he and his deeds were still within living memory. And finally, Du Bois seriously considered the perspective of Black Americans, how they reacted to Brown, the effect his actions had on them, and how they responded to them. It would be decades before any other serious scholarship would deem to examine these issues.
John Brown was, and remains, a controversial figure, both during his lifetime through the present day. He took hard, brutal actions that broke the laws and social conventions, and horrified and terrorized many. Du Bois carefully puts these actions within the context in which they happened, particularly when addressing the Potawatomi massacre that Brown directed in Kansas. He notes that Brown’s five sons, like most other Free Staters and abolitionist, first came to Kansas peaceably:
”They came hating slavery, yet peacefully, unarmed, and in all good faith, with cattle and horses and trees and vines to settle in a free land.”
It was only after the pro slavery Boarder Ruffians began to use violence, terror, and murder to impose slavery on the Kansas Territory that Brown’s sons wrote to him asking him to send arms. Instead, Brown came himself bringing those arms. Free Staters in Kansas were slow to realize that mere words and political action would be wholly overwhelmed by the violence the pro slavery side was using with impunity. It was only after the Boarder Ruffians burned and sacked the town of Lawrence while its Free State citizens stood trembling by, offering no resistance, and committed multiple terrorizing murders that Brown chose to act. He organized his sons, rode to a notorious pro slavery settlement, pulled five men away from their families in the middle of the night, and directed his sons to execute them with broadswords. Asked about it after the fact, John Brown replied:
”I do not pretend to say that they were not killed by my order. And in doing so, I believe I was doing God’s service.
I think God has used me as an instrument to kill men, and if I live, I think he will use me as an instrument to kill a good many more.”
Nor is Du Bois at all equivocal in expressing what he feels about John Browns action:
”The last, red breath of the expiring war in Kansas flowed in these dark ravines. To this day, men differ as to the effect of John Brown’s blow. Some say it freed Kansas, while others say it plunged the land back into civil war. Truth lies in both statements. The blow freed Kansas by plunging it into civil war, and compelling men to fight for freedom which they had vainly hoped to gain by political diplomacy.”
And here, elegantly expressed in stirring prose, Du Bois further wrote:
”So Kansas was free. Free because the slave barons played for an imperial stake in defiance of modern humanity and economic development. Free because strong men had suffered and fought, not against slavery, but against slaves in Kansas. Above all, free because one man hated slavery, and on a terrible night, rode down with his sons amid the shadows of the Swamp of the Swan, that long, low-winding and somber stream, fringed everywhere with woods and dark with bloody memory. Forty-eight hours they labored there, and then, of a pale May morning rode up to the world again. Behind them lay five twisted, red, and mangled corpses. Behind them rose the stifled wailing of widows and little children. Behind them the fearful driver gazed and shuddered. But before them rode a man, tall, dark, grim-faces and awful. His hands were red, and his name was John Brown. Such was the cost of freedom.”
Of Brown’s Harpers Ferry raid, the event that cemented John Brown within American history, Du Bois also provides context that disputes the idea that it was wholly a mad endeavor. He also allows that it was seen as too risky an endeavor, even by allies like Frederick Douglass, who refused to join Brown on his raid. Du Bois explains their dispute over it so:
”Here two radically opposite characters saw slavery from opposite sides of the shield. Both hated it with all their strength, but one knew its physical degradation, its tremendous power, and the strong sympathies and interests that buttressed it the world over. The other felt its moral evil, and knowing simply that it was wrong, concluded that John Brown and God could overthrow it.”
And finally, Du Bois, all the way back in 1909, reached the conclusion that a century later has become the historical consensus on Brown. It was actually his trial and his execution which became Brown’s true, mortal blow against the institution of slavery. Brown came to this conclusion himself at the end. He stated:
”If it is deemed necessary that I should forfeit my life for the furtherance of the ends of justice and mingle my blood further with the blood of my children, and with the blood of millions in this slave country whose rights are disregarded by wicked, cruel, and unjust enactments, I submit, so let it be done.”
Du Bois was completely unambiguous in his biography of Brown. He saw him, not as a mad man, not as a criminal or villain, but as a courageous man willing to take hard actions and sacrifice all while other men stood by unwilling to do so:
”Slavery is wrong,” he said. “Kill it. Destroy it. Uproot it, stem, blossom, and branch. Give it no quarter. Exterminate it and do it now.”
Was he wrong? No. It is wrong. Eternally wrong. It is wrong by whatever name it is called, or in whatever guise it lurks, and whenever it appears. But it is especially heinous, black and cruel when it masquerades in the robes of law and justice and patriotism. So was American slavery clothed in 1859, and it had to die by revolution, not by milder means. And this men knew. They had known it a hundred years, yet they shrank and trembled.”