Remember, Brown's original tactical design was never meant to be a static holdout. His blueprint called for a rapid hit-and-run operation—seize the federal arms, arm the local enslaved population, and immediately vanish into the steep ridges of the Appalachian Mountains before any organized military force could respond. But Horwitz emphasizes Brown's decision to linger at the armory complex as the single fatal tactical error of the entire expedition. Instead of retreating into the surrounding hills with whatever weapons and recruits he could gather, Brown remained stationary inside the federal compound, allowing precious hours to slip away. By the afternoon of October 17, the window for escape had slammed shut, and the raiders were completely surrounded. Pinned down on all sides by an escalating force of local militia and angry citizens, Brown and his surviving men gathered their prominent hostages, including Colonel Lewis Washington, and retreated into the armory's small brick fire engine house. This structure, which would later become known across the nation as John Brown's Fort, served as their final, claustrophobic redoubt. Outside, the town of Harpers Ferry had devolved into a scene of wild, disorganized violence. Local militia units, armed farmers, and townspeople, many of them drinking heavily, surrounded the engine house and maintained a relentless, ragged fire. Rifle balls chipped away at the brickwork, splintering wood and filling the cramped room with smoke and dust. Inside the engine house, Horwitz paints a harrowing portrait of physical suffering and psychological strain. Among the trapped raiders were two of Brown's own sons. Oliver Brown had been shot through the body and lay suffering on the floor for hours, begging his father to put an end to his agony, to which Brown famously urged him to die like a man. Another son, Watson Brown, went outside under a flag of truce to negotiate terms with the townspeople, only to be shot and mortally wounded in the street. Yet, amid the groans of the wounded and the smell of gunpowder, Brown remained outwardly composed, firing through cracks in the heavy wooden doors and refusing to give up his hostages. [Production note: Faint sound of muffled boots in the mud, distant shouts, a hollow wooden impact, followed by sudden silence.] By the night of October 17, the chaotic siege was taken over by regular federal troops. A detachment of United States Marines dispatched from Washington arrived at Harpers Ferry under the overall command of Colonel Robert E. Lee, accompanied by Lieutenant J.E.B. Stuart. Lee took charge with calm professionalism, establishing a tight cordon around the engine house and planning a decisive assault for first light on October 18. At dawn, Lieutenant Stuart approached the battered engine house door to present Lee's formal demand for unconditional surrender. Peering through a narrow gap in the wood, Brown recognized the young officer. For example, Brown had previously encountered Stuart years earlier during the bloody border conflicts in Kansas, an unsettling moment of recognition across the chasm of the nation's rising conflict. Stuart offered terms guaranteeing that the raiders would be protected from immediate violence if they surrendered their arms and released the hostages. Brown flatly refused, demanding safe passage into the mountains for his men as a non-negotiable condition. Recognizing that negotiations were at an end, Stuart stepped aside and signaled for the assault. The storming of the engine house was brief, violent, and chaotic. Lacking heavy battering rams, the Marines seized a wooden ladder and ran it repeatedly against the doors until the timber broke open. A storming party burst into the smoke-filled building. In the violent clash that followed, Lieutenant Israel Green lunged at Brown, striking him repeatedly with his weapon. Horwitz highlights a bizarre detail that spared Brown's life: Green was carrying only a light dress sword or ceremonial saber rather than a combat blade, and his initial thrust struck Brown's heavy belt buckle. Green slashed Brown across the head and neck, wounding him severely and knocking him unconscious, but failing to inflict a fatal wound. Within minutes, the remaining raiders were killed or captured, and the hostages were rescued without further injury. The physical siege was over, having lasted only a few minutes from the breach of the door. Yet, as Horwitz emphasizes, while Brown's tactical campaign had ended in complete military failure, his survival ensured that the raid's true impact was only just beginning.