JOHN BROWN.

“John Brown’s body lies mouldering in the grave,His soul is marching on!”

“John Brown’s body lies mouldering in the grave,

His soul is marching on!”

You have all heard that song, sung at the piano at home, whistled in the street, and shouted by the soldiers as they went off to the war; well, shouldn’t you like to have me tell you what sort of achildJohn Brown was?

JOHN BROWN.—page32.

Little boys who live in cities, and wear velvet coats, and hats with plumes in them, and have long, silky curls, just like a little girl’s, hanging over their shoulders to their belts, and drag along through the streets holding on to a nurse’s hand, when they are seven or eight years old, and are more afraid of a little mud on their boots or on their velvet coats than anything else; who have more rocking horses, and whips, and humming tops, and velocipedes, and guns, and swords, and marbles, and Noah’s arks, and bat and balls, than they know what to do with, can hardly imagine how a little boy in the country, with none of these things, and with nobody to amuse him, or to tell him how to amuse himself, could possibly be happy or contented. I am going to tell you about John Brown, who was another kind of boy. He had never seen a city, or wore a hat on his head. He jumped out of bed himself without any nurse, and ran out of doors barefoot into the grass, eating a bit of bread for breakfast, or anything that came handy. There were no houses about, for he lived in a little hut, in the wilderness, with nothing but trees, and wild beasts, and Indians. He was only five years old when his father took him and his mother in an old ox cart, and went ’way off in the forest to live. As I told you, he had no toys; and he used, though such a little fellow, to help drive the cows home; and now and then he would ride a horse, without any saddle, to water. Sometimes he would watch his father kill rattlesnakes—great big fellows, too, such as you have shuddered to look at, even through a glass case in the Museum; and he learned not to be afraid of them, too. At first he trembled a little at a liveIndian, when he met him in the woods, and was more afraid still of his rifle; but very soon he became used to them, and liked to hang about and see what they did; and after a while he learned some of their queer talk himself, so that they could understand each other very well. I suppose he got along with the Indians much better than his father, who stammered very badly, and is said never to have spoken plain at all, except when he was praying. Wasn’t that very strange? Johnny’s father used to dress deerskins; and Johnny learned it so well by watching him, that he could at any time dress the skin of a squirrel, or a raccoon, or a cat, or a dog. He learned, too, to make whiplashes of leather, and sometimes he would manage to get pennies for them, which made him feel very grand, just as if he kept shop. When he was about six years old, a poor Indian boy gave him a marble—the first he had ever seen. It was bright yellow, and Johnny thought it was splendid, and kept it carefully a long while, turning it over, and holding it up to the light, and rolling it on the floor of his father’s hut. One unlucky day, Johnny lost the yellow marble. I dare say you will laugh when I tell you that it took yearsto cure him of mourning for that marble; and that he used to have long fits of crying about it. But you must remember that it was the only toy he ever had, and that there were no shops about there where he could get more. One day, after the loss of the marble, he caught a little squirrel. It bit Johnny badly while he was catching it. However, Johnny held on to him, for he was not a kind of boy to let a thing go, after he had once made up his mind to have it; and so the squirrel made the best of it, particularly when he found he had lost his bushy tail in the fight, and he let Johnny tame him, and feed him, and he would climb up on Johnny’s shoulder, and look at him with his little bright eye, and then scamper down again over the grass, and then back again, and perch on Johnny’s hand, so that he was just as dear to him as your little brother is to you; or the good little boy next door, who plays with you in your father’s yard, and never once vexes you. One day Johnny and his squirrel went into the woods to play; and while Johnny was busy picking up sticks, the squirrel wandered away and got lost; and for a year or two after that, the poor boy mourned for his little pet, looking at all thesquirrels he could see, for his own little bob-tailed squirrel, because no other squirrel would do but that one he had tamed and loved. But he never found him; and, between you and me, perhaps it was just as well for the squirrel. I dare say he is cracking nuts quite happily in some snug tree, and scampering about with his little baby squirrels, and has quite forgot Johnny and his lost tail.

What Johnny liked above all things, was to be sent off by his father a great way though the wilderness, with droves of cattle; and when he was only twelve years old, he used to go with them more than a hundred miles. What do you think of that? He was quite proud of it himself, and nobody could have affronted him more than to offer to help him at such times. He was more like a little Indian than anything else; he could hear so quickly any sound a long way off; and he declared that he had often smelled the frying of doughnuts at five miles’ distance. Pretty good nose, hadn’t he?

When Johnny was eight years old, his mother died. Ah! you may be sure that the loss of the yellow marble, and the bob-tailed squirrel, was nothing to this. He cried and mourned for her,as he wandered through the woods, or drove cattle for his father, and I suppose sometimes, though he loved his father, that when he came within sight of the little hut, he would rather have lain on the ground all night, than to have gone into it, and missed her pleasant “Well, Johnny, is that you, dear?” Well, he got along as well as he could, and grew a hardy, tough lad in the open-air work his father gave him to do.

Some time after this, when away some hundred miles from home with a drove of cattle, he stopped at an inn with a landlord who had a very bright little slave boy, just Johnny’s age. This little slave boy’s master made a great pet of Johnny, and brought him to the table with his best company, and repeated all his smart sayings, and asked them if they did not think it wonderful, that a boy of his age could drive so many cattle safely one hundred miles from home? And, of course, they petted Johnny too, and praised him, and thought he was quite a wonder. I suppose Johnny would have felt very nice about it, had it not been that the little slave boy, who was just his age, and as bright a little boy as Johnny, was beaten before his very eyes by his master, with aniron shovel, or anything that came handy; and while Johnny was fed with everything good, this little fellow was half starved, and half frozen with cold, on account of his thin clothing. Johnny could not forget that; he had never seen anything like it before; when he went to his comfortable bed, it troubled him; when he ate good food, it seemed to choke him; when he put on warm clothes, he felt ashamed to be warm, while the little slave boy was shivering; and Johnny felt worse, because he was only about ten years old, and couldn’t do anything to help him; but as he was going home through the woods, he said, aloud, as if he were telling it to “Our Father, who art in Heaven,” “When I grow bigger, I’ll fight for the slaves; and I’ll fight for the slaves wherever I see them, so long as I live.” For all this, Johnny was such a bashful boy, that about this time, when a lady to whom he was sent on an errand gave him a piece of bread and butter, he did not dare to tell her he didn’t eat butter, but as soon as he got out of the house he ran for a long distance, till he was out of sight, and then threw it away.

About this time a friend of Johnny’s, whoowned some good books, offered to lend him some to read, for he knew how to read, although he had been to school but little. He liked history very much, and became so interested in these books, that he wanted to know all the people who had studied and read books too, and who could tell him about the world, and things which had happened in it, and how everything came about; and this desire for learning gave him a dislike to foolish talk and foolish people; and whenever he heard any sensible talk go on, as he traveled off with his cattle, he just pricked up his ears, and stored it away in his little head, to think of when he got home. You have no idea how much he picked up and how much he educated himself in that way. It would shame many boys who go to good schools, only to turn out lazy, stupid dunces.

When Johnny was fifteen, his father put him at the head of his currier and tanner establishment. Here Johnny had a large company of men and boys to look after. Now,mendon’t like much to have aboyorder them to do this or that, even though they are working for that boy’s father; but Johnny was so bright and knowing,and pleasant, that you will not be surprised to hear that they got along nicely together. Instead of quarreling with him, the men used to praise him for being so smart; so that, though he was very bashful when he began business, by the time he was twenty, he began to think he reallywasa smart fellow, sure enough. But that was natural, you know; and I only think it was a wonder he was not quite spoiled by so much praise, and so much power, when he was so young. His young brother used to make fun of him and call him “King Johnny,” because he spoke in such a decided way to the workmen, when he wanted anything done; but Johnny went about his business and let him talk. He had his hands full cooking his own dinners, and learning arithmetic, and surveying, and I don’t know what else besides; for he was not a fellow who could even be idle a minute, you may be sure of that. The world was too full of things he wanted to know, and he was in too great a hurry to get at them.

All the time John was a young man, he never wanted, or wore, fine clothes, although he was neat and tidy. He ate plain food, and never touched tobacco, or spirits, or tea, or coffee. Hedrank milk, or only water. So, you see, he had a clear head for study and business, and I don’t think he ever knew the meaning of the word “dyspepsia.” When John got a letter, he always wrote on the back of it the name of the person who wrote it, and either “Not answered,” or “Not time to read,” or “No answer needed.” I tell you this to show you how thoroughly he did everything he undertook; and so honest was John, that he refused to sell his customers any leather, until every drop of moisture had been dried out of it, because the water would make it weigh more, you know, and, of course, he would get money that did notreallybelong to him. I think, had John lived in New York, some of the business men here would have thought him crazy, or he would have thought them crazy; but, you see, John couldn’t cheat; not even though he should never be found out in it. Most young men, when they are of John’s age, think more about their own affairs than anything else—their own business, their own pleasures, etc.; whether they will ever be rich men,howrich they will be, and all that. It was not so with John. He wanted money, ’tis true, but all this time he had notforgotten the little slave boy, and others like him, and it was for such as he that he wanted money, that he might help them away from their masters, and help them to be free by and by. He married, and had many children of his own, and when these children grew up, they all felt just as their father did about the slaves. After a time, John helped eleven slaves to get away to Canada, where they were quite safe. How glad they must have been! and how they must have loved John! Somebody asked John how he felt when he got them there? he said that he was so happy about it, that he was quite ready to die then. But there was other work for John and his boys to do. There was a place called Kansas, where John’s boys went to live; but as soon as the people there found out that John’s boys and himself loved the slaves, they began to steal their cattle, and burn their fences, and try, in every possible way, to trouble and bother them. So John’s boys wrote home to the old man about it, and told him that he must send them some guns and muskets, to defend their property and their lives with. Well, the old man didn’t have to stop to think long about that. He told his other boys, who were livingat home with him, about it, and they agreed to start right off for Kansas, with as many guns and muskets as they could get. John had no idea of his boys out there being murdered and robbed, without fighting for them, especially when they were treated so merely for pitying the poor slaves. When they reached there, John and his four boys, they each had a short, heavy broadsword strapped to their sides. Each one had a quantity of firearms and revolvers, and there were poles standing endwise round the wagon box, with fixed bayonets, pointing upward. Oh! I can tell you, he was in real earnest about it! Well, they suffered great hardships there, while fighting for their rights: one of John’s boys was taken by the enemy, and driven with chains on him, so far in a hot sun to prison, that he became a maniac; another of his sons was so injured, that he became a cripple for life; another son was murdered while quietly walking along the road, and as he lay a corpse on the ground, one of his brutal enemies discharged a loaded pistol in his mouth. All this John had to bear, but he only said, “It is very hard; but my sons have died in a good cause—died for the poor slaves.” Most people thought, “John has hadenough of it now; he will fight no more about slavery; he has taken the rest of his boys back to his old home in the mountains, and he will not be in a hurry to have them killed.”

They were mistaken. John was only waiting to whet his sword. He knew how to wait. One day, the whole country about Harper’s Ferry was in a state of distraction. The women and children were frightened to death, for John Brown was down there; and it was said he was going to help all the slaves he could to get away from their masters; and that his boys were there to help him, and a great many other men; and that they had guns, and swords, and pistols in plenty, and meant to fight fiercely, if anybody tried to hinder them. John chose Harper’s Ferry, because there were mountains all about it, and he had known every turn in them, and all their valleys, too, for seventeen years, and in case they were beaten, he thought it would be a good place for himself and the slaves to hide in, as well as a good place to fight from. The first night of John’s attack on the town, he and his men put out all the lights in the street, and took possession of the armory, where the firearms, you know, are kept.Then they took three watchmen, and locked them up in the guardhouse. There must have been friendly black people in the town who helped them do all this. Some of them cut down the telegraph wires, and others tore up the railroad track after the train had passed. When it came daylight, John and his men took prisoner every person who came out into the streets, and when people said, “Why do you do this? What do you mean?” John and his men said, “We mean to free the slaves!” One of the workmen employed at the armory, when he came to work that morning, and saw an armed guard at the gate, asked of John’s guard, “By what authority have you taken possession of this building?” “By the authority of God Almighty!” said he.

Well, one after another, the workmen who came to their work in the armory that day, were taken prisoners. There was a terrible panic, I can tell you. John and his five sons were inside the armory grounds, while others were stationed outside the walls, to hold the town—some at the bridges, some at one place, some another. When the workmen whom John took prisoners told him how troubled their wives and children would beabout them, John kindly allowed them to go home, under a guard of his soldiers, to tell them not to be frightened. John wanted, in doing this, to make the people understand that the prisoners in his hands should not be hurt; a brave man, you know, is always a tender-hearted man. Poor John! he lingered too long about these things. The people whom he allowed to go in the cars, before he tore up the railroad track, wrote on little slips of paper terrible accounts of him, and scattered them through the country as the cars went flying through; so the first thing he knew, one hundred soldiers came to Harper’s Ferry from Charlestown. Now, indeed, they had bloody work. John’s men began to get killed, but not one of them but sold his life as dearly as he could, fighting fiercely till he could fight no longer. Some lay dying in the street, some of the corpses floated down the river, some were taken, bleeding and gasping, to prison. Even after John’s men were dead, his enemies continued to kick and beat their insensible bodies, and many ran sticks into their wounds. And now John knew that all that was left him, was to sell his life as dearly as he could. With one son dead by hisside, and another shot through, he felt the pulse of his dying boy with one hand, and held his rifle with the other, and told his few men about him to be firm and calm. He said that his boys came with him to fight of their own accord, and that they had died in a good cause. Well, the soldiers soon battered down the building, and got in where John and his men were. An officer, as soon as he saw John, although he and his men had then done firing, struck him in the face, and knocked him down. The same officer repeated the blow several times, and then, when John was lying on the ground, helpless, another soldier ran his bayonet twice into the old man’s body, whose face and hair were clotted with blood. Then they searched his pockets, and took what they wanted, and then carried him, bleeding, to the guard house, and laid him on the bare floor, without anything under him. Then the governor hurried down to see him, with several of his friends, and though the poor old man was writhing in agony with his wounds, and the blood and the smoke were not yet washed from his face, for thirty hours they let him lie upon the floor, with his head propped up on a chair, while they questioned him, and whilethe mob insulted him. After that, John was carried off to Charlestown jail, under a guard of soldiers. The body of John’s son was carried off for the doctors to cut up. Seven days after this John was dragged from his bed, and being unable to stand, was supported on each side by an officer into court, and there laid on a bed, to be tried by the laws of Virginia, for what he had done. Well, John had a “Virginiatrial.”

A trial, you know, is a fair hearing on both sides. John was faint and bleeding, and unable to stand; they refused to let him have a lawyer to speak for him, and declared him guilty without hearing at all his side; although the law declares a man innocent till he is provedby lawto be guilty. Then they told the jailer to shoot him if anybody tried to help him escape; and this was John’strial. Now, John did not wish to die with the character of a robber or a murderer, and before they took him out of court, he lifted his head up from his mattress and told them that he had not had a fair trial; that he was too sick to talk; that his money, fifty or sixty dollars in gold, had been taken from him, and that he could not now pay anybody to do any errands for him; thatthey ought to give him time to send for his friends. But it was of no use, because they had determinednotto give him time; so he was brought into court again on his bed soon after, and sentenced to be hung,i. e., if he did not die first, on Friday, the second day of December; and when the judge said that John would be hung where everybody would have a chance to see it, one man jumped up before John and clapped his hands, because he was so glad that he should see the brave old man die.

Forty-two days in all, John lay in a Charlestown prison. All that time, sick as he was, no clean clothes were given him, although sixty dollars of his money were taken from his pocket when he was arrested. All those forty-two days and nights, he had lain there in the stiff, dirty, blood-stained garments in which he fell.

Well, John had two Virginia militia companies come out of curiosity to see him in prison. He treated them civilly, but told the jailer, after they left, that he did not like being made a monkey show of. Everybody who loved slavery, was allowed to gape and stare at John as much as they pleased; but John’s friends, although theywere ladies and gentlemen who had traveled a long distance, found it hard work to get leave to take a peep at him.

John’s wife wanted to come and see him before he died, and bid him good by. John told her she would be insulted and badly treated, and she had better stay at home with the children; and besides, I suppose, John was afraid it would make it harder for him to die, and leave her and the girls all alone in the world. But the poor woman could not bear not to look in the face of her children’s father once more, and at last John told her she might come. When she got there, the jailer led her into the cell, but she could not speak to John, nor John to her. She only laid her head upon his breast, and clasped his neck with her arms.

Then, seeing a heavy chain on John’s ankles, and fearing it might pain him, she kneeled on the floor and pulled two pair of woolen socks on his feet. Then John told her what to say to his children at home, and how he wanted them to live, when he was dead; and that she must pay some money to some persons for him, whom he named; and then he read her his “will,” which he hadmade. And then John and his wife ate their “last supper” together. Perhaps these words will remind you, as they did me, of another “Last Supper.” And then the jailer, Captain Anis, told the poor wife that she must go. And then John said to his wife, “God bless you! Mary; good by;” and then she went out, and never saw John more, till she looked upon his dead face.

There were three ropes sent to hang John Brown with; South Carolina sent one, Missouri one, and Kentucky one. They chose the Kentucky rope, because it was the stronger, and then it was shown, in public, to the people. Well, the second day of December, when the old man was to be strangled, came at last. It was a lovely day, so mild and warm that the windows of all the houses were open. The scaffold was to be in a field, half a mile from the jail. At seven in the morning the carpenters came to fix it. At eight o’clock the soldiers began to come; horsemen, dressed in scarlet jackets, were placed about the field, and a double line of sentries farther on; then the State of Virginia, fearing, after all this, that it would not be safe enough from a feeble, sick old man, brought a huge brass cannon, soplaced and pointed, that if a rescue were attempted, John might be blown into little atoms in a moment. There were about five hundred soldiers in the field; and lines of them were stretched over fifteen miles. There were not many people of the place there to see John hung, for they dared not leave their slaves alone at home, for fear of mischief in their absence; for all the poor slaves knew very well that John was to be hung that day, because he wastheir friend.

At eleven o’clock, they brought John out of jail, and put him in the wagon, to drive him to execution.

As John stepped from out the door of his prison, a black woman, with a little child in her arms, stood near. He stopped for a moment, stooped over, and kissed the little black child. Soon after, as he passed along, another black woman said, “God bless you! old man. I wish I could help you, but I cannot.” This made the tears come in John’s eyes for the first time.

By John’s side was seated the undertaker, and on the wagon was a black coffin, enclosed in a box, because his body was to go to his poor wife after these Virginians had done with him. Thenseveral companies of soldiers, mounted on horseback, rode beside the wagon, which was drawn by two white horses. As they went along, John looked at the lovely Blue Mountains and the bright sky, and the warm sunshine spread over all, and said, calmly, “This is a beautiful country; I have not seen it before.” The jailer, who sat beside him, could hardly say “yes,” he was so astonished to see John so quiet and smiling, as if he were only taking a ride on that lovely day. Then the undertaker said to John, “You are more cheerful than I am, Captain Brown.”

“Yes,” said the old man, “I ought to be.”

And now the wagon had come to the field, where stood the gallows, and all those hundreds of soldiers, and the great brass cannon. The bright sun shone on the bayonets and muskets of the soldiers and their gay uniforms, and the lovely Blue Mountains looked very calm and peaceful; and the soldiers kept very close to old John, for Virginia felt uneasy till the breath was out of him. Then John got out of the wagon and stood on the scaffold, and took his hat off for the last time, and laid it down by his side. Then he thanked the jailer, who had been kind to him;then they tied his elbows and ankles; then they drew a white cap over his eyes, and then they put the Kentucky rope around his neck. Then the sheriff told John to step forward; and John said, “I can’t see; you must lead me.” Then the sheriff asked John to drop his handkerchief, for a signal for him to hang him; and John said, “Now I am ready; only don’t keep me long waiting.”

When John asked his enemies for time for his trial, they wouldn’t let him have any; now, when he did not want any more time, they kept him waiting. So they made the old man stand there, blindfolded, full ten minutes, while they marched the soldiers up and down, and in and out, just as if they were drilling on parade. Some of the soldiers felt ashamed of this cruelty to the old man, and muttered between their teeth, for it was as much as their necks were worth to say it loud, “Shame! shame!” Then, at last, after the military maneuvers were over, the rope was cut, and John struggled and strangled and died. Then, you know, after that, Virginia had to beverysure the old manwasreally dead; so first the Charlestown doctors went up and poked him over,and pulled him about; then the military doctors had their turn; lifting up his arms, and putting their ears a great deal closer to his breast than they would have cared to do once, to see if he breathed; then they swung the body this way and that, in the air, for thirty-eight minutes. Then they lifted the body upon the scaffold, and it fell into a harmless heap. Then, although all the doctors who had pulled him around declared that he was dead, still Virginia was so afraid of John, that she insisted on cutting the dead body’s head off, or making it swallow some poison, for fear, by some hocus pocus, it might wake up again. But it didn’t wake—at least, not in the way they expected. But there is fierce fighting down in Virginia to-day; for, though John Brown’s body lies mouldering in the grave,

His soul is marching on!

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