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 proved by law to be guilty. Then they told the jailer to shoot him if anybody tried to help him escape; and this was John’s trial. 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; that they ought to give him time to send for his friends. But it was of no use, because they had determined not to 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 they were 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 had made. 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, so placed 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 was their 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. Then several 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.”