Charlestown, December 2, 1859.
. . . The execution
is over. We have just returned from the field, and I sit down to give you some
account of it. The weather was very favorable: the sky was a little overcast,
with a little haze in the atmosphere that softened without obscuring the
magnificent prospect afforded here. Between eight and nine o'clock the troops
began to put themselves in motion to occupy the positions assigned to them on
the field, as designated on the plan I send you. To Colonel Smith had been assigned
the superintendence of the execution, and he and his staff were the only
mounted officers on the ground, until the major-general and his staff appeared.
By ten o'clock all was arrayed. The general effect was most imposing, and at
the same time picturesque. The Cadets were immediately in rear of the gallows,
with a howitzer on the right and left, a little behind, so as to sweep the
field. They were uniformed in red flannel shirts, which gave them a gay,
dashing, Zouave look, exceedingly becoming, especially at the Battery. They
were flanked obliquely by two corps, the Richmond Greys and Company F, which,
if inferior in appearance to the Cadets, were superior to any other company I
ever saw outside the regular army. Other companies were distributed over the
field, amounting in all to perhaps 800 men. The military force was about 1500.
The whole enclosure
was lined by cavalry troops, posted as sentinels, with their officers — one on
a peerless black horse, and another on a remarkable looking white horse —
continually dashing around the enclosure. Outside this enclosure were other
companies acting as rangers and scouts. The jail was guarded by several
companies of infantry, and pieces of artillery were put in position for
defense.
Shortly before
eleven o'clock, the prisoner was taken from the jail and the funeral cortege
was put in motion. First came three companies — then the criminal's wagon,
drawn by two large white horses. John Brown was seated on his coffin,
accompanied by the sheriff and two other persons. The wagon drove to the foot
of the gallows, and Brown descended with alacrity, and without assistance, and
ascended the steep steps to the platform. His demeanor was intrepid, without
being braggart. He made no speech: whether he desired to make one or not I do
not know. Had he desired it, it would not have been permitted. Any speech of
his must of necessity have been unlawful, as being directed against the peace
and dignity of the Commonwealth, and, as such, could not be allowed by those
who were then engaged in the most solemn and extreme vindication of Law. His
manner was free from trepidation, but his countenance was not without concern,
and it seemed to me to have a little cast of wildness. He stood upon the
scaffold but a short time, giving brief adieus to those about him, when he was
properly pinioned, the white cap drawn over his face, the noose adjusted and
attached to the hook above, and he was moved blindfold a few steps forward. It
was curious to note how the instincts of nature operated to make him careful in
putting out his feet, as if afraid he would walk off the scaffold. The man who
stood unblenched on the brink of eternity was afraid of falling a few feet to
the ground!
He was now all
ready. The sheriff asked him if he should give him a private signal, before the
fatal moment. He replied in a voice that sounded to me unnaturally natural — so
composed was its tone and so distinct its articulation — that “it did not
matter to him, if only they would not keep him too long waiting.” He was kept
waiting, however. The troops that had formed his escort had to be put in their
proper position, and while this was going on, he stood for ten or fifteen
minutes blindfold, the rope around his neck, and his feet on the treacherous
platform, expecting instantly the fatal act. But he stood for this
comparatively long time up right as a soldier in position, and motionless. I
was close to him, and watched him narrowly, to see if I could perceive any
signs of shrinking or trembling in his person. Once I thought I saw his knees
tremble, but it was only the wind blowing his loose trousers. His firmness was
subjected to still further trial by hearing Colonel Smith announce to the
sheriff, “We are all ready, Mr. Campbell.” The sheriff did not hear, or did not
comprehend, and in a louder tone the announcement was made. But the culprit
still stood steady, until the sheriff, descending the flight of steps, with a
well-directed blow of a sharp hatchet, severed the rope that held up the
trap-door, which instantly sank sheer beneath him, and he fell about three
feet. And the man of strong and bloody hand, of fierce passions, of iron will,
of wonderful vicissitudes, — the terrible partisan of Kansas — the capturer of
the United States Arsenal at Harper's Ferry — the would-be Catiline of the
South — the demigod of the Abolitionists — the man execrated and lauded —
damned arid prayed for — the man who in his motives, his means, his plans, and
his successes must ever be a wonder, a puzzle, and a mystery — John Brown was
hanging between heaven and earth.
There was
profoundest stillness during the time his struggles continued, growing feebler
and feebler at each abortive attempt to breathe. His knees were scarcely bent,
his arms were drawn up to a right angle at the elbow, with the hands clinched;
but there was no writhing of the body, no violent heaving of the chest. At each
feebler effort at respiration, the arms sank lower, and his legs hung more
relaxed, until at last, straight and lank he dangled, swayed slightly to and
fro by the wind.
It was a moment of
deep solemnity, and suggestive of thoughts that make the bosom swell. The field
of execution was a rising ground that commanded the outstretching valley from
mountain to mountain, and their still grandeur gave sublimity to the outline,
while it so chanced that white clouds resting upon them gave them the
appearance that reminded more than one of us of the snow peaks of the Alps.
Before us was the greatest array of disciplined forces ever seen in Virginia,
infantry, cavalry, and artillery combined, composed of the old Commonwealth's
choicest sons, and commanded by her best officers, and the great canopy of the
sky, overarching all, came to add its sublimity — ever present, but only
realized when great things are occurring beneath it.
But the moral of
the scene was the great point. A sovereign State had been assailed, and she had
uttered but a hint, and her sons had hastened to show that they were ready to
defend her. Law had been violated by actual murder and attempted treason, and
that gibbet was erected by Law, and to uphold Law was this military force
assembled. But greater still, God's holy law and righteous will was vindicated.
“Thou shalt not kill.” “Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be
shed.” And here the gray-haired man of violence meets his fate, after he has
seen his two sons cut down before him earlier in the same career of violence
into which he had introduced them. So perish all such enemies of Virginia! all
such enemies of the Union! all such foes of the human race! So I felt, and so I
said, without a shade of animosity, as I turned to break the silence, to those
around me. Yet the mystery was awful — to see the human form thus treated by
men — to see life suddenly stopped in its current, and to ask one's self the
question without answer, “And what then?”
In all that array
there was not, I suppose, one throb of sympathy for the offender. All felt in
the depths of their hearts that it was right. On the other hand there was not
one word of exultation or insult. From the beginning to the end, all was marked
by the most absolute decorum and solemnity. There was no military music, no
saluting of troops as they passed one another, nor anything done for show. The
criminal hung upon the gallows for nearly forty minutes, and after being
examined by a whole staff of surgeons, was deposited in a neat coffin, to be
delivered to his friends, and transported to Harper's Ferry, where his wife
awaited it. She came in company with two persons to see her husband last night,
and returned to Harper's Ferry this morning. She is described by those who saw
her as a very large masculine woman, of absolute composure of manner. The
officers who witnessed their meeting in the jail, said they met as if nothing
unusual had taken place, and had a comfortable supper together.
Brown would not
have the assistance of any minister in the jail, during his last days, nor
their presence with him on the scaffold. In going from prison to the place of
execution, he said very little, only assuring those who were with him that he
had no fear, nor had he at any time of his life known what fear was. When he
entered the gate of the enclosure, he expressed his admiration of the beauty of
the surrounding country, and pointing to different residences, asked who were
the owners of them.
There was a very
small crowd to witness the execution. Governor Wise and General Taliaferro both
issued proclamations exhorting the citizens to remain at home and guard their
property, and warning them of possible danger. The train on the Winchester
railroad had been stopped from carrying passengers; and even passengers on the
Baltimore railroad were subjected to examination and detention. An arrangement
was made to divide the expected crowd into recognized citizens and those not
recognized; to require the former to go to the right, and the latter to the
left. Of the latter there was not a single one. It was told that last
night there were not in Charlestown ten persons besides citizens and military.
There is but one
opinion as to the completeness of the arrangements made on the occasion, and
the absolute success with which they were carried out. I have said something of
the striking effect of the pageant, as a pageant; but the excellence of it is
that everything was arranged solely with a view to efficiency, and not for the
effect upon the eye. Had it been intended for a mere spectacle, it could not
have been more imposing: had actual need occurred, it was the best possible
arrangement.
You may be inclined
to ask, Was all this necessary? I have not time to enter upon that question
now. Governor Wise thought it necessary, and he said he had reliable
information. The responsibility of calling out the force rests with him. It
only remained for those under him to dispose the force in the best manner. That
this was done is unquestionable, and whatever credit is due for it may be
fairly claimed by those who accomplished it.
SOURCE: Elizabeth
Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 111-7
