H. A. B.* to John Brown, November 28, 1859

Boscawen, N. H., Nov. 28.

Dear Sir: I hardly know how to address you at this time in appropriate language. I have read your history and admired your noble spirit, and have felt it my duty to say one word, at least, to you from New Hampshire, before you go to take your "crown of glory." I have daily wished to tell you of my sympathy, and have breathed in secret prayers for you and yours. I mourn that the world must lose from her visible, active scenes, and a wife and children a husband and father, one such as you are, I think I see the Heavenly ones around you, ministering to your spiritual being, and who will guide you to the Father, and give you a place among those who were "slain for the word of God and for the testimony which they held," and to whom "white robes were given, and who serve him day and night in His Temple." We believe with the great good man who says, "In awful providences, and in fraternal triumphing love, the reign of night, this evil, (Slavery,) is shaken; thus mingling pearl and crimson the one the sign of peace, the other the flag of strife — herald the uprising dawn of deliverance New Hampshire has many sons and daughters who would help thee if they could, . . . Allow me to make two requests of you, to be granted, if in your power, during these last days of earth to you: 1. That you, a dear, Christian brother, just about to enter the celestial city, would write us one word—your autograph, at least. 2. That your last prayers and your "ministering" in the angel world may be for those whose powers and duties may lead them to labor for accomplishing the great and certain work of overthrowing oppression and error. May God sustain you.

Your friend,

H. A. B.

_______________

* A woman of New Hampshire.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 421-2

M. M. W.* to John Brown, November 28, 1859

BOSTON, Mass., Nov. 28.

Beloved and Honored Friend: I find comfort in the faith that your spirit ascends and sings while ours are draped with shadows. Your hour of freedom approaches. Over that scaffold, erected by the foes of freedom, angels shall lovingly droop their arms to protect you. O! dear friend! I know they will take all thy pangs. Thou wilt surely be unconscious of the gate of mortal agony through which must lie thy pathway to thy near and eternal home. We abide in the shaded valley while thou ascendest the Mount of Vision. Our hearts ache at losing thee from our world, for thou hast taught us how to live, more simply brave, more tenderly conscientious lives. The banks of the Potomac are sanctified anew and forever to us now, and we feel that the spirit of Washington may hail thee as a brother and a peer. The slopes of living green that he so loved in life will be golden-green in the pictured halls of our memories and associations, because of the eternal brightness of thy failure, as men may now count by results. But

                                "They never fail who die
In a great cause: the block may soak their gore,
Their heads may sodden tn the sun; their limbs
Be strung to city gates and castle walls;
But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years
Elapse, and others share as dark a doom,
They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts
Which overpower all others, and conduct
The world at last to freedom."

Our blessed Lord and his apostles did not fail, though the Jews believed that Christianity died at the Cross. The Three Hundred who fell at Thermopylæ failed not. Cato, when the body of his dead son was brought to him, on a bier, all-hailed him – "Welcome!" as one who had done his duty, and bade the attendants lay him down where he could view the bloody corse and count his glorious wounds. Yon granite shaft on Bunker Hill witnesseth that on that Warren and his fellow-soldiers fell; but no failure drapes in history their names with a funeral pall. Neither hast thou, honored old man, nor thy dead sons, nor thy fallen companions, failed. When they who slay thee shall be gathered to their ignoble dust, what hearts will thrill, as ours do now, in gratitude for the great gift of thy life of sixty years; for the heritage of thy steadfast faith and deeds?

Dear old pilgrim, thou mayst safely bequeath thy wife and children to Northern homes and hearts. We shall not forget those dear to thee. We take them as a sacred legacy. Thine eyes are lifted to the distant hills. Ours are often wet with burning tears. But we remember that thou abidest under the shadow of the Almighty, where no evil can befall thee. Believe us, multitudes of brave and sorrow-stricken hearts in all parts of our country, and even the world, await mournfully and sympathetically thy exit. It will be thy freedom hour. And angels shall soothingly welcome thee to a home where there is neither sorrow nor crying. For blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and enter in through the gates into the city.

We would greet with hearty respect the humane jailer and his family.

Farewell, and peace abide with thee.

M. M. W.

_______________

* A woman of Boston.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 422-3

L. C.* to John Brown, November 28, 1859

HUDSON, Ohio, Nov. 28, 1859.

Dear Sir: My long acquaintance with you and with your life has made such an impression on my mind that I feel that there is an attachment formed which Death alone can separate; and now, as it seems the end draws near that you must die, I would say that my prayer is, that you may come off conqueror through Him that hath loved us, and find a resting-place in heaven, where I hope to meet with all the friends of humanity. I want something from your hand to look upon and show to the friends of humanity. Your name on a card directed to me, with a date at the place where you are, I would like, with some short sentiment of your choosing.

L. C.

P. S. I hear you have several young daughters, which may be dependent on the charity of friends to get along in the world. I would like to take the youngest, and educate her in my family as one of them, if you and your friends are willing. I have a daughter sixteen years old, and it would be her delight to help educate one of Capt. John Brown's daughters. . . . Farewell! May God Almighty strengthen you as you are about to be offered up.

_______________

*A woman and old acquaintance.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 423-4

Two Old Acquaintances to John Brown, November 28, 1859

COLUMBUS, November 28.

Dear Sir: Duty and inclination both urge me at this late hour of your affliction to show you at least one token of remembrance and sympathy. The fact of my early acquaintance with you in former years, although much younger than yourself, the intimacy that existed between our fathers' families for years, growing out of the relations they sustained to each other as neighbors and citizens, and brethren in the same Church with yourself, cooperating for the establishment of a New England town in Hudson, Ohio; for religion in a church, morals in a town, and education in the founding of the Western Reserve College all which they lived to see; the friendship which my (now sainted) father cherished for you, of which you had ample testimony; the high esteem which I had and have now in memory of your worthy (now departed) father, as well as the high respect you sustained in intelligent and religious society; the strong friendship which I now feel for your worthy and afflicted sister, Mary Ann, and a heart yearning with tenderness for all in sorrow, and especially now in your peculiar position, I say all this produces the most intense interest in me as well as thousands of others; and although I had scarcely heard a word of you for many years, excepting your Kansas trials, and not even particulars of that; yet when I first heard of the outbreak at Harper's Ferry—the death of your two sons the hasty trial—the merciless sentence after your truthful and noble speech, and all my inmost soul was moved with sadness; and although suffering with illness, my first impulse was to do something, if possible, for a grant of mercy; but I soon was foiled in that hope, and I resolved to resort to prayer that God would overrule all for good, as He has, no doubt, and that you might be sustained in every conflict: which prayer has not only gone up under my roof, but from thousands of others all over the land; and those prayers have been heard. At any rate, from your interesting letters it seems you are almost miraculously sustained in these your last days of earthly trials; and although you sometimes may be pierced for a moment to be surrounded by those who deride instead of those who love, yet rejoice and triumph. And I praise my Maker that he gives you grace to conquer, and at last, when that last hour comes, from which all flesh shrinks, I firmly trust that the Saviour, (when, perhaps, poor man supposes he is crushing you with anguish) will put underneath you His everlasting and Almighty Arm, end lift you above all fear and pangs, and you will rejoice and triumph; and O! how glorious will be the transition from earth's cruel bondage to that Heavenly Liberty, and from foes here to sainted loved ones above! God grant all this is the unceasing prayer of many as well as your most sincere and sympathizing friend,

H. R.

Please tell those fellow-prisoners I pray their peace may be made with God. You have the kind regard and earnest prayer of my husband and son.

_______________

Dear Sir: To the accompanying line from Mrs. R. I add a word. I am glad you feel so well prepared to meet with calmness and composure your fate. I feel assured, as one in this State recently said, "The Lord will take care of your soul, and posterity will take care of your name." The Lord and time will both be right in the judgment of men's characters and motives. May the Lord be with you, and guide and sustain.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 424-5

M. E. S.* to John Brown, November 29, 1859

MASSACHUSETTS, November 29.

Dear Friend: I have written to you once before, but fear it has never reached you; and now I try again, trusting in the generosity of Capt. Avis. Be of good cheer, dear, brave old friend; your dear ones will be generously and lovingly cared for all the rest of their days! Last evening there was a crowded and enthusiastic meeting at the Tremont Temple, Boston, the proceeds of which were to go to your stricken family. Every where, from all parts of the country, money is pouring in, in large sums and small, for the cause your self-devotion has made sacred to all Christian hearts. I would gladly relinquish ten years of my mortal life, if thereby you could hear even the echo of the noble things that were said by the noblest men in our land last night, I longed for wings to fly to you and tell the words of life, beauty, and eternal truth uttered so eloquently by that poet and philosopher, Mr. Emerson, in behalf of you and your cause. Not many eyes were dry; and every body that had a heart throbbed in unison with your own. God is very good, my friend. He never forgets us; and, in our darkest hour, he sends us the light and strength we need. Thousands of true men and women will never tire of trying to fill the void your death will make to the afflicted family at North Elba. Trust me when I say we will never forget them. . . . Dear, brave old friend, I honor, love, and bless you for the immortal testimony you have given to truth and right. I consecrate myself anew to the cause of the oppressed. Go bravely to your death! God and His holy angels stand ready to receive you, and generations yet unborn will cherish with love the remembrance of John Brown at Harper's Ferry. Farewell!

Yours in love and blessing forever,

M. E. S.

Please give poor Stevens my heartfelt sympathy and admiration for his fortitude and patience. God bless you both!

_______________

* A Massachusetts matron. Redpath indicates that she is the author of the first letter in this chapter.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 425-6

M. E. S., a Massachusetts Matron, to John Brown, November 8, 1859

[Massachusetts,] No v. 8.

Dear and Honored Friend: At last my bonds are loosed, and I can write you a word of love and helping. Comfort and cheer you have from obedience to that eternal law of right God stamped in such living characters upon your soul when he sent it forth to do its work among the children of men. Your sublime allegiance to truth is our comfort and cheer in this sharp trial. Through much and sore anguish I have come to look upon the second of December as the glorious birthday of one whom all men will delight to honor when the mists of sin and selfishness shall have rolled away forever from their eyes. Dear, brave old friend, you can never die! The gallows seems no longer a degradation, since your example has so hallowed and glorified it! For the Truth's sake I can let you die; but for our affection's sake we would put our arms around you and hold you here forever, You are constantly in our minds by day and by night. I cannot tell you what we all suffered the few first days; and had I not been confined to a sick bed, I think I should have found my way to that Virginia prison. God bless you forever for your faithfulness to a great principle. Justice, truth, and immortality seem the only realities when contemplated from the heights you have achieved. I will try to be a braver and truer woman and mother (albeit a sadder) for the lesson you have taught. Your name shall be a cherished household word; and as long as we live your Heavenly Birthday shall be kept in our hearts and home.

"Pace In thy cell, old Socrates,
        Cheerily to and fro;
Trust to the impulse of thy soul
        And let the poison flow;
They may shatter to earth the lamp of clay
        That holds a light divine,
But they cannot quench the fire of thought
        By any such deadly wine;
They cannot blot thy spoken word
        From the memory of man,
By all the poison ever was brewed
        Since time its course began;
To-day abhorred, to-morrow adored;
        So round and round we run;
And ever the truth comes uppermost,
        And ever is justice done."

My little son Henry sends you his love, and says he will never forget you.

And now, dear, brave old friend, farewell. “A little while and we shall not see you, because you go unto the Father. And again, a little while and we shall see you, because we, too, go unto the Father." May the blessed God reveal to you more and more of His Divine Spirit until "mortality is swallowed up of life."

Your friend with enduring love and reverence,

M. E. S.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 413-4

A Quakeress to John Brown, Undated

Dear Friend: A few humble believers, some of whom have been fasting and praying for thee and thy fellow-prisoners, desire that ye should know that ye are thus remembered. He who searches the heart can make known the fulness of what we feel but forbear to express. Dear friend, if thou knowest the way of life, thou hast help the world knows not of; but if thou hast never known Him whom to know aright is life eternal, we entreat thee in tender love to look to Him in this hour of need. Read the 46th Psalm and the 14th Chapter of St. John. Pour out thy supplications to thy Redeemer: He hath His loving eyes upon you there; His ear will be specially open to thy cry in the name of Jesus. It is Christ alone on whom we can rest. Be instant in prayer, remembering that the true Church is wrestling with thee. We have fear lest, from the bravery and magnanimity of thy spirit, thou shouldst not be sensible where thy strength lieth, as we poor weaker ones are, and have therefore affectionately entreated thee to keep very near in dependence on thy Divine Redeemer. We hope the rest of thy prisoners may see this letter, for we would point them all to the only refuge. O friends, look to your Redeemer in supplication, and thus draw down by prayer His loving kindness unto your wounded hearts, We pray for you, but you must pray for yourselves. We will also do what we can for your family if they need.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 415

M. N., an Ohio Woman, to John Brown, November 16, 1859

Decatur, Brown County, Ohio, Nov. 16.

Dear Sir: Can you give me a minute of your time? Like Mrs. Child, who can scarcely take comfort in any thing on your account, for a time I could not well attend to my work, but only wanted to sit down, lean my head upon my hand, and remain thus in the palsy that had come upon me. My mental and moral nature seemed paralyzed with the thoughts that the self-evident impossibility that man could own man seemed to be true; and when one arose to rescue his brother, following only the instincts of right, and the teachings of the golden rule, that there should be power upon earth lawfully to put him to death. In listless moments tears have welled up and offered themselves, but no sooner is nature conscious of them than they come no farther. The subject is too great. Tears can express nothing of what the soul feels under some contemplations. Believing myself in conscience bound to give heed to the views of others (as H. W. Beecher) about the best mode of enfranchising the slave, and wondering if the slave could have sunk so low in his degradation that he would not have been willing to accept your boon, had it proved to be in your power to give it to him, — such considerations diverted my thoughts and relieved somewhat the oppression of my mind. I suppose thousands upon tens of thousands feel the same kindness and admiration that is felt for you here. I wish they would write and say so to you, instead of telling all to each other. But, perhaps, they do not think of that; or they may be afraid. Our minister prays for you in our pulpit; and I have sometimes felt that it might do you good to hear such prayers as he puts up for you, and those who suffer with you. I have been watching for it, and am so glad the channel has been opened through which "the sympathies of others can most successfully reach you," (though my own contribution must at present be small,) for it is such a comfort to do any thing for you; and personally you seem to need so little of any thing that we can do. I suppose martyrs that are called forth by the sins of a lost world have that greatness of soul, of benevolence, that needs not so much the sympathies and consolations called forth by affliction. Although they may shed nature's tears of love and affection with friends most dear, yet it seems to me the souls of those friends themselves must retire again to a depth or an elevation beyond the region of tears. You perhaps do not know what a comfort it is to your thousands of friends, and will be, especially as the time of death draws near, and when it is past, that you have left this statement: "I am quite cheerful under all my afflicting circumstances and prospects, having, as I humbly trust, the peace of God which passeth understanding." And now, noble old man,—noble from our point of view, though in God's sight but a pardoned and unprofitable servant, — that our Father awaits you is the hope of one who, I humbly trust, is your friend in Christ.

M. N.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 415-6

M. S. S., a young woman, to John Brown, November 18, 1859

SPRINGFIELD, Mass., Nov. 18.

My Dear Friend: In sending to you these few words of affectionate sympathy, I feel I am expressing what would be the feelings of my dear father were he still with us; for you well know that you always had not only his respect and confidence, but his warm sympathy in your noble struggles for the rights of your fellow-men, and I doubt not he is now among the innumerable crowd of witnesses who, unseen by mortal eyes, watch over and sustain you in these dark hours of your earthly lot. I need not tell you that you are constantly in our thoughts, and daily remembered in our prayers, and that we shall do what little we can to comfort and aid your afflicted wife and children, whom may God in his unspeakable mercy guard and sustain. During your short visit with us, some two years since, you won all our hearts, and the remembrance of those few days will ever be affectionately cherished. It is a cruel, bitter fate which denies to so many loving, anxious hearts the possibility of doing any thing for you; to sit quietly and powerless in our homes, and see injustice triumph, requires the full exercise of all Christian patience and forbearance, and we can only look to Him who can make all things work together for good. My mother and sisters unite with me in love and affectionate remembrances. May God be with you even to the end, and at last receive you to Himself, is the earnest prayer of your attached friend,

M. S. S.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 416-7

L. A. B., a girl from Michigan, to John Brown, November 23, 1859

LAMONT, OTTAWA Co., Michigan, Nov. 23.

My Dear Sir: I have been strongly impressed to write you a few lines for many days; and now, at the eleventh hour, I am resolved to do so, hoping this may reach you. I am glad that you are a Christian man; that you know in whom you have trusted all your life; that you have that within which will make your spirit stronger and braver to endure to the last. My father fought with you in the Battle of Plattsburg, in 1812. He has long since gone to his rest. You will meet him with all the redeemed throng, who perished with their armor on, in that land where wrong will be made right. If this reaches you in time, could you write me but one line, or your name, even, with your own hand, I would treasure it as a priceless legacy. May God bless you and give you peace in your last earthly hour, is the prayer of your sympathizing friend,

L. A. B.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 417

H. C., a woman of New York, to John Brown, November 24, 1859

Brooklyn, New York, Nov. 24.

Dear Brother: This day is set apart by many of the States as a day of thanksgiving to Almighty God for all his mercies to us in the year that is past; and, as a people, we have much to be thankful for, while we hide our faces in shame that one of our fellow-citizens lies in prison this day, under sentence of death, for daring to love freedom and sympathizing with the oppressed. And I am impelled, from deep sympathy with you, to address you these few lines, that I may add to the proofs you already have, that the great Northern Heart beats warmly in your behalf; and, though a Virginia jury pronounce you guilty of Treason and Murder, and a Virginia judge pass sentence of death upon you, you will not die. You will, I trust, be freed from the trials and sorrows of earth, your work being done. But does not the Commonwealth of Virginia foresee that when they have taken your life, and those of your fellow-sufferers, there will rise up twenty John Browns where there was one before, and the ghost of John Brown will haunt them till they let the oppressed go free? Rejoice, then, my brother, that you are accounted worthy to suffer. "The servant is not above his Lord;" and when I heard one of our Brooklyn pastors lead up a congregation of three thousand souls in tender, fervent supplication to Him whose ear is ever open to the cry of His children, in your behalf, and those in prison with you, I felt that you would be sustained to the last. And I thank God this day, as thousands will, for the assurance we have that you are not without His comforting presence and blessing in your bonds, and I believe you are willing to die if thereby the chains of the oppressed may be loosed, that they may go free; and this affair will surely hasten that day. Be of good cheer; "let not your heart be troubled;""neither fear what man can do unto you." The loved ones you leave behind will be abundantly cared for; so do not distress yourself this wise; and my prayer is, and shall be, that your faith and courage may sustain you to the last, and an abundant entrance ministered unto you into your Heavenly Father's House. Farewell.

H. C.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 417-8

F. E. W. to John Brown, November 25, 1859

Kendalville, Indiana, Nov. 25.

Dear Friend: Although the hands of Slavery throw a barrier between you and me, and it may not be my privilege to see you in your prison-house, Virginia has no bolts or bars through which I dread to send you my sympathy. In the name of the young girl sold from the warm clasp of a mother's arms to the clutches of a libertine or a profligate, in the name of the slave mother, her heart rocked to and fro by the agony of her mournful separations, I thank you, that you have been brave enough to reach out your hands to the crushed and blighted of my race. You have rocked the bloody Bastile; and I hope that from your sad fate great good may arise to the cause of freedom. Already from your prison has come a shout of triumph against the giant sin of our country. The hemlock is distilled with victory when it is pressed to the lips of Socrates. The Cross becomes a glorious ensign when Calvary's pale-browed sufferer yields up his life upon it. And, if Universal Freedom is ever to be the dominant power of the land, your bodies may be only her first stepping stones to dominion. I would prefer to see Slavery go down peaceably by men breaking off their sins by righteousness and their iniquities by showing justice and mercy to the poor; but we cannot tell what the future may bring forth. God writes national judgments upon national sins; and what may be slumbering in the storehouse of divine justice we do not know. We may earnestly hope that your fate will not be a vain lesson, that it will intensify our hatred of slavery and love of freedom, and that your martyr grave will be a sacred altar upon which men will record their vows of undying hatred to that system which tramples on man and bids defiance to God. I have written to your dear wife, and sent her a few dollars, and I pledge myself to you that I will continue to assist her. May the ever-blessed God shield you and your fellow-prisoners in the darkest hours. Send my sympathy to your fellow-prisoners; tell them to be of good courage; to seek a refuge in the Eternal God, and lean upon His everlasting arms for a sure support. If any of them, like you, have a wife or children that I can help, let them send me word. . . .

Yours in the cause of freedom,

F. E. W.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 418-9

The Colored Women of Brooklyn to John Brown, November 26, 1859

Brooklyn, Nov. 26.

In behalf of the colored women of Boston. Dear Sir: We, a portion of the American people, would fain offer you our sincere and heartfelt sympathies in the cause you have so nobly espoused, and that you so firmly adhere to. We truly appreciate your most noble and humane effort, and recognize in you a Saviour commissioned to redeem us, the American people, from the great National Sin of Slavery; and though you have apparently failed in the object of your desires, yet the influence that we believe it will eventually exert, will accomplish all your intentions. We consider you a model of true patriotism, and one whom our common country will yet regard as the greatest it has produced, because you have sacrificed all for its sake. We rejoice in the consciousness of your perfect resignation. We shall ever hold you dear in our remembrance, and shall infuse the same feelings in our posterity. We have always entertained a love for the country which gave us birth, despite the wrongs inflicted upon us, and have always been hopeful that the future would augur better things. We feel now that your glorious act for the cause of humanity has afforded us an unexpected realization of some of our seemingly vain hopes. And now, in view of the coming crisis which is to terminate all your labors of love for this life, our mortal natures fail to sustain us under the trying affliction; but when we view it from our religious standpoint, we feel that earth is not worthy of you, and that your spirit yearneth for a higher and holier existence. Therefore we willingly give you up, and submit to His will "who doeth all things well."

Yours with warm regard,

M. S. J. T.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 419

M. S. Mc. to John Brown, November 26, 1859

CHAMBERSBURG, Penn., Nov. 26.

. . . I had hoped that your life would be spared, until the recent public declaration of Gov. Wise, when he visited you in prison to tell you that he cannot temper Virginia justice with mercy that darling attribute of Him who shall judge us all. A million hearts will be saddened by your execution, and a million more will feel keenly on the issues it will thrust upon the world that never felt before. Its fruits must be left to time; God only knows them. As a wife and mother, I have regretted that an act springing from deep-seated convictions of duty—however mistaken, morally or politically—should desolate a home by the gibbet. But fear not for those who shall mourn your untimely and cruel end. He who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb will not forget them; and the voices of mothers of the North, with the true-hearted men, will provide them with all temporal comforts.

Sincerely yours,

M. S. Mc.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 420

J. N. B. to John Brown, November 24, 1859

BOSTON, Nov. 24.

My Dear Brother John Brown: I am an old man. I have for more than thirty years opposed Slavery in all its forms; though never with violence! I deeply sympathize with you in your present position, and commend you to that Jesus who preached, what Isaiah proclaimed, seven hundred years before his advent. God forbid that I should censure you for acting "deliverance to the captive," when it has the sanction of this "double inspiration." My brother, I respect and love you beyond expression. I have now a letter from my brother, now, I trust, in heaven. It was written in prison at Baltimore, by one whose life was sacrificed to Slavery's demand.

It tells me what I believe is true, that during the last few years of his life, he gave liberty to more than four hundred slaves. I have taken slaveholders to his monument in Mount Auburn, where the enduring marble tells that Charles Turner Torrey, in the early meridian of his life, was a martyr to Freedom. If you can find it possible to write me the smallest line, that I may place at its side, to bequeath to my children as a most valued legacy, you cannot tell how much I should value it. They are all Christians in the highest sense of that word; their abhorrence of Slavery is unquestioned. I have known you and your sons, and have had the pleasure of taking your honest hand in mine.

Yours in Christ,

J. N. B.

That I may be under no obligation to Virginia, I enclose a ten cent stamp to pay for the paper you may use.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 405

J. M. B to John Brown, November 24, 1859

Ilion, New York, November 24.

Dear Brother in Christ: How I would like to spend this night with you in your cell, and converse for a season on the joys that await you beyond this world of sin and sorrow. I have tried to spend this day in prayer and thanksgiving to Almighty God for the many blessings received at His hand the past year, but in spite of all my efforts in this direction, it has been a sorrowful day to my soul, as my mind has dwelt almost constantly on your death scene. I cannot be joyful; I mourn not so much for you, (for, like the hero of Tarsus, you seem ready to be offered,) but I mourn for my country. I spent the past winter in the South, spending four months in nine of the slave States; and more than once I had to press my lips and clinch my fists, to keep back the feelings of my soul. I saw Slavery in all its phases, and many a night I have wet my pillow with my tears, as I called to mind the sufferings of the poor slave. I had hard work to control my feelings, but did so, and cannot think but it was the best course. Among the slaveholders I found some of the noblest men I ever met with kind, obliging, hospitable, pious, and to all appearances without a fault; so I returned to my home to hate the sin and not the men. I made the acquaintance of Gov. Wise, and found that it was not Wise that killed Cilley; it was not Wise that fought for Slavery at the South; it was his education — for a nobler heart never filled the breast of man; and had he been favored with a birthplace on the shores of Lake Champlain, and a home among the Adirondack mountains, he might have been your general in this conflict, and lying wounded by your side to night.*  Would to God these brethren could read our hearts. O, could they see how we love them; how we desire their present and future happiness; what a change would at once take place in their feelings towards us. Did Gov. Wise know Christ as did Paul when soundly converted, there would not be power enough in all the military force of Virginia to hang John Brown. But enough of this.

I have never believed that Virginia, for her own honor, would hang you; but she may, (my heart is too full, my tears flow too fast to write,) if she does, such a funeral as the sun never saw before, will follow.

Keep up good courage; a few more rising and setting suns, and the struggle will be over; and the thrice welcome words will reach your ears, "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you."

I have been a resident of Washington County for thirty-eight years; left Fort Edward, New York, May, 1858, and am sure I have met you, but cannot tell where; but if faithful to the grace already given, I am sure I shall meet you again, and I know where. Praise the Lord, on that blissful shore, where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are forever at rest. You will not be permitted, like Moses, to return after forty years to engage afresh in the struggle for freedom: but God will raise up others, in his own good time, to carry forward the work.

Farewell, till we meet in Heaven; for, when we reach the landing place,—

“In the realms of endless light,
We’ll bid this world of noise and show
Good night, good night, good night;
We’ll stem the storm,” &c.

Your unworthy friend and brother in the Lord,

J. M. B.

_______________

*What miserable cant! "Pious" trafficars in God's children; "pious" robbers of God's poor; "pious" brokers in the souls for whom Jesus died! "Kind, obliging, hospitable!" No doubt of it! To compel men and women to work without reward, is so kind; to barter for base gold the offspring of slave mothers, is so obliging; to rob a race of every social, civil, political, matrimonial, paternal, filial right, is so hospitable an act, that it is not surprising that the class who practise it should be “to all appearance without a fault!" And Wise, the assassin of Cilley, the representative murderer of John Brown, the laudator of the Slave Pens, the acknowledged head and champion of the vilest Commonwealth that the sun looks down on, of course, he deserves the eulogy bestowed on him, when the writer says, that a “nobler heart never filled the breast of man." There are no murderers, there are no assassins, there are no base, nor cowardly, nor wicked men, if the philosophy of the writer be correct. It was not Judas, then, but Judas's education?

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 406-7

J. P. to John Brown, November 25, 1859

Ellenville, New York, Nov. 25.

Dear Brother: We are personally strangers, but we cherish for God and Humanity the same love and trust. Permit me, then, a brother in bonds with the bound, to extend to you my Christian sympathy and prayer in this hour of your trial. Be assured, my dear brother, that the heart of the nation is with you; that whatever the difference in the mode of our operation, our purpose, "to break every fetter," is the same. I am grateful that God and your own heart sustain you in your journey “Home.” You and I do "worship the same God," the God of righteousness and justice, who weigheth motives; and though acts are defeated, will not fail to reward good intentions. I trust there is upon your mind no doubt of your acceptance with God through the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ. The little I have read of your confident avowal of the Divine Mercy towards you, cheer me with the hope that though men kill the body, God will nourish the spirit the man- under His own pavilion of light forever.

I trust you will esteem it no reproach that wicked men plot against you, and put you to death on the gibbet. The gibbet, and the cross, and the fagot, have often been honored by men of whom the world was not worthy. Had you been successful, men would have called you a hero; but because defeated — I forbear the rest. My heart sickens at the thought that conscience, and divine trust, and self-sacrificing benevolence must lie in a cell and await a cruel death. But we now build monuments for those whom others murdered, and God shall yet build yours, not perhaps in bronze or marble shaft, but in a nation of free and happy men, who shall rise up and call you the Moses of their Redemption. You need not fear that your family will suffer want; God and the good will succor them. And now, my dear brother, will you not indulge me with at least a short reply. I shall cherish it long, and gather inspiration from its sight for other conflicts in behalf of religion and liberty. I too have a family of children, and I desire that they should live for the oppressed; and, if such is God's will, die fighting their battles. I will surely swear them at God's altar to eternal hatred of American and every other Slavery. I shall pray fervently every day until you depart, that God may be with you and comfort you. . . .

I am very sincerely your brother in the cause of religion and right,

J. P.        

Pastor of the M. E. Church, Ellenville, Ulster Co., N. Y.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 407-8

N. S. to John Brown, November 25, 1859

New York, November 25.

My Dear Friend: I rejoice in the strength and courage vouchsafed to you in your present emergency. Our good Father is on your side, and this fact places you in the majority. Good men, every where, will ever revere your name. Unselfish integrity has made that name immortal. God bless you!

Farewell,

N. S.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 408

E. T. to John Brown, November 26, 1859

NEW YORK, November 26, 1859

Dear Sir: Will you favor me with your autograph, which I will highly prize as the best memento of one who is about to sacrifice his life in a great and noble cause. Pardon my intrusion upon your last moments for that which may seem to you of little moment or consequence; but I assure you that it will be ever retained by me with that respect which is due the name of a man who makes so great a sacrifice. May He who is no respecter of persons, guide and sustain you in these the last moments of your existence, and safely lead you to that home which awaits you, is the humble prayer of your obedient servant,

E. T.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 408-9

L. W. T. to John Brown, November 29, 1859

 New York, Thursday, November 24.

My Dear Friend: The writer of this letter to you may be personally unknown, but is a deep sympathizer, in connection with thousands of others, whose hearts are engaged in prayer for you and your fellow prisoners, who are now under sentence of death in the prison of Virginia, for entertaining the principles of Freedom and Liberty to the captive in bonds, as though in bonds with him. Your cause is a good one. Bear up, brave warrior! under the approaching trial and the day that you will be called upon to seal the truth with your blood! These are the days that try men's souls, and are like the days of old in which the martyrs fought, bled, and died. No doubt but on the day of execution, millions of prayers will be offered up to the God of Heaven and earth in your behalf, from Christian hearts, who feel with you and for you; and of this you may have the fullest assurance in the hour of trial.

Ever yours in truth and friendship,

L. W. T.

SOURCE: James Redpath, Editor, Echoes of Harper’s Ferry, p. 409