Charlestown, Jefferson County, Va., Nov. 24, 1859.
My Dear Mrs. Spring,
—Your ever welcome letter of the 19th inst., together with the one now
enclosed, were received by me last night too late for any reply. I am always
grateful for anything you either do or write. I would most gladly express my
gratitude to you and yours by something more than words; but it has come to
that, I now have but little else to deal in, and sometimes they are not so kind
as they should be. You have laid me and my family under many and great
obligations. I hope they may not soon be forgotten. The same is also true of a
vast many others, that I shall never be able even to thank. I feel disposed to
leave the education of my dear children to their mother, and to those dear
friends who bear the burden of it; only expressing my earnest hope that they
may all become strong, intelligent, expert, industrious, Christian
housekeepers. I would wish that, together with other studies, they may
thoroughly study Dr. Franklin's “Poor Richard.” I want them to become
matter-of-fact women. Perhaps I have said too much about this already; I would
not allude to this subject now but for the fact that you had most kindly
expressed your generous feelings with regard to it.
I sent the letter to my wife to your care, because the
address she sent me from Philadelphia was not sufficiently plain, and left me
quite at a loss. I am still in the same predicament, and were I not ashamed to
trouble you further, would ask you either to send this to her or a copy of it,
in order that she may see something from me often.
I have very many interesting visits from proslavery persons
almost daily, and I endeavor to improve them faithfully, plainly, and kindly. I
do not think that I ever enjoyed life better than since my confinement here.
For this I am indebted to Infinite Grace, and the kind letters of friends from
different quarters. I wish I could only know that all my poor family were as
much composed and as happy as I. I think that nothing but the Christian
religion can ever make any one so much composed.
“My willing soul
would stay
In such a frame as
this.”
There are objections to my writing many things while here
that I might be disposed to write were I under different circumstances. I do
not know that my wife yet understands that prison rules require that all I
write or receive should first be examined by the sheriff or State's attorney,
and that all company I see should be attended by the jailer or some of his
assistants. Yet such is the case; and did she know this, it might influence her
mind somewhat about the opportunity she would have on coming here. We cannot
expect the jailer to devote very much time to us, as he has now a very hard
task on his hands. I have just learned how to send letters to my wife near
Philadelphia.
I have a son at Akron, Ohio, that I greatly desire to have
located in such a neighborhood as yours; and you will pardon me for giving you
some account of him, making all needful allowance for the source the account
comes from. His name is Jason; he is about thirty-six years old; has a wife and
one little boy. He is a very laborious, ingenious, temperate, honest, and
truthful man. He is very expert as a gardener, vine-dresser, and manager of
fruit-trees, but does not pride himself on account of his skill in anything;
always has underrated himself; is bashful and retiring in his habits; is not
(like his father) too much inclined to assume and dictate; is too conscientious
in his dealings and too tender of people's feelings to get from them his just
deserts, and is very poor. He suffered almost everything on the way to and
while in Kansas but death, and returned to Ohio not a spoiled but next to a
ruined man. He never quarrels, and yet I know that he is both morally and
physically brave. He will not deny his principles to save his life, and he “turned
not back in the day of battle.” At the battle of Osawatomie he fought by my
side. He is a most tender, loving, and steadfast friend, and on the right side
of things in general, a practical Samaritan (if not Christian); and could I
know that he was located with a population who were disposed to encourage him,
without expecting him to pay too dearly in the end for it, I should feel
greatly relieved. His wife is a very neat, industrious, prudent woman, who has
undergone a severe trial in " the school of affliction."
You make one request of me that I shall not be able to
comply with. Am sorry that I cannot at least explain. Your own account of my
plans is very well. The son I mentioned has now a small stock of choice vines
and fruit-trees, and in them consists his worldly store mostly. I would give
you some account of others, but I suppose my wife may have done so.
Your friend,
John Brown.
SOURCES: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters
of John Brown, p. 599-601
