Americas good terrorist, p.36
America's Good Terrorist, page 36
While the town prepared for Brown’s execution, a visiting Edmund Ruffin did his best to spread the idea of secession. He wrote in large letters on a label: “Sample of the favors designed for us by our Northern Brethren.” He attached the label to a handle of a pike captured from Brown’s hideaway. This attracted much attention, but it failed to shake the local residents’ devotion to the Union. Most opposed secession. But Ruffin, a recalcitrant old “fire-eater” now in his mid-sixties, who would later (at the end of the Civil War) take his own life rather than live under hated “yankee rule,” wished someone would attempt a rescue of Brown. Ruffin was convinced a rescue mission, whether it failed or succeeded, would cause the “separation of the southern from the northern states.” There were things happening at Charles Town that Edmund Ruffin approved of. He was caught up in the martial spirit of the time and found the military events engaging: dress parades, music playing, flag waving, drum beating, and being saluted by militiamen from Richmond. On one occasion he accompanied General Taliaferro and his staff in a middle-of-the-night security check. Seeing an old friend, 67-year-old Hugh Nelson, in uniform as one of the newly arrived volunteers from Petersburg whetted Ruffin’s appetite “to assume a similar position.” So Ruffin obtained permission from Colonel Smith, the commander of the VMI cadets, and was assigned to supervise the hanging of Brown, and to march with their color guard to the execution site.
On December 1, the day before his execution, Brown wrote a will and saw his anxious wife one last time. The next day Brown selected his respected adversary in court, prosecutor Andrew Hunter, to draw up his will, with jailor John Avis serving as witness. The document distributed his remaining assets among his family. John Jr. was to receive his surveyor’s instruments and the family tombstone that was to remain in North Elba as long a member of his family lived there, to have carved on both sides inscriptions he would later send. Jason was to receive a silver watch with his father’s name inscribed on it; Owen, his opera glass and rifle (if found) and $50 cash “in consideration for his terrible suffering in Kansas; and crippled arm from his childhood.” Salmon was also to receive $50 and daughter Ruth Thompson, his “large old Bible containing family records.” His sons and other daughters were to receive a “good coppy [sic] of the Bible” purchased at “some bookstore in New York or Boston at a cost of five dollars each.” Each grandchild was to get “as good a copy of the Bible as can be purchased… at a cost of $3.” Any remaining balance from his father’s estate was to be divided equally and given by his brother in Ohio, Jeremiah R. Brown, to “my Wife & each of my children; & Widows of Watson and Oliver.” Brown’s property and money in Virginia were meager; much of the property had been carried away or confiscated. His attorney Sennott—entrusted earlier with Brown’s financial interest—attempted to collect Brown’s property for the benefit of his family but recovered only 20 of the original 200 Sharps rifles. These were in possession of the jailor, who was anxious to have their value transferred to Brown. Edward H. House, a New York Tribune correspondent, assumed Brown’s tents, axes, pikes, and other items would soon be sold. House was appalled the attorney Griswold had depleted Brown’s cash by charging $250 to defend him.13
On November 30, Mary Brown traveled by rail with Philadelphia abolitionist friends J. Miller McKim and his wife, and Hector Tyndale, a promising young attorney. They arrived late at night in Harpers Ferry from Philadelphia. The next morning, seeking permission to go to Charles Town, she was introduced to Robert E. Lee, who referred her to General William Taliaferro. The general gave her permission to see her husband, but in accordance with the conditions specified by the governor, she had to go alone, could see no other prisoner, was subject to security procedures, and had to return that evening to Harpers Ferry to wait for the delivery of her husband’s body. This was the last time she would see her husband alive, but she carried herself with dignity and composure. Early on the afternoon of December 1 she left by carriage, escorted by eight cavalrymen and a sergeant of the Fauquier Cavalry for the heavily guarded jail at Charles Town, leaving behind her two companions and the lawyer.
News of Mary Brown’s arrival drew people away from the execution site to the jail. Outside the jail a large crowd gathered, in addition to the military force that performed military maneuvers found in Scott’s Manual (the standard military manual of drills and tactics). An opening in the sea of humanity had to be made to allow the carriage to pull up to the front of the jail. The carriage moved through a pathway lined by bayonets. Gawking onlookers, hoping to get a good look at the doomed man’s wife dressed in black, were disappointed: her face was hidden by a veil. Finally inside the jail, Mary Brown had to endure a quarter of an hour’s worth of introductions before she was searched by Mrs. Avis, the jailor’s wife, to make sure Mary did not slip a weapon or strychnine to her doomed husband. In the meantime, General Taliaferro informed Brown his wife had arrived and asked how long he wanted the interview to last. Three or four hours, Brown responded. The general apologetically replied, “I shall not be able to oblige you”; Mrs. Brown had to return to Harpers Ferry that night. Seemingly accepting the restriction, Brown responded he had no favors to ask of the Old Dominion.
Mary was escorted to her husband’s cell by the jailer, John Avis, who was required to remain with them during her visit. They met in emotionally charged silence. They kissed but were speechless and stood embracing as Mrs. Brown sobbed for five minutes. They had not seen each other since June, about six months earlier, and had been separated for two years, except for a few days. Mary placed her head on John Brown’s chest and her arms around her doomed husband’s neck. Finally composing himself, he broke the silence by telling her, “Wife, I am glad to see you.”
Freed of the manacles that rubbed his ankles raw, Brown accompanied his wife to the Avises’ parlor, where they sat on the sofa to talk. They spoke of their children. Mary told her husband that in Harpers Ferry she had made some effort to recover the bodies of their two dead sons, and Colonel Barbour “kindly consented to give his assistance.” Brown said he would also like the remains of the two Thompsons to be removed if they could be found. He suggested the most economical way of dealing with the remains of their dead sons, the Thompsons, and his own body was to “get a pile of logs and burn them together; that it would be much better and less expensive to thus gather up all their ashes together and take them to their final resting place.” Mary found this repugnant and shifted the conversation to other topics. Much of their conversation was about what was to be done after his death, covering much of what he had spelled out in his will. He said each child would receive $50, but his property would go to Mary. He thought she should stay in North Elba and stressed the importance of educating the children.
During their conversation Mary asked whether he had heard Gerrit Smith had become insane and been placed in an asylum at Utica. Brown replied he had read about it in the papers and was sorry to hear of it, immediately changing the subject. Avis extended the invitation to dine with him and his wife in their living quarters in the jail. After dinner the Browns were told Mary must leave. This enraged Brown who lost his composure. He wanted her to remain, but they had been together for four hours, longer than initially approved. Orders said she had to return to Wagner House at Harpers Ferry that night. The couple did not embrace, but as they departed they shook hands as Brown said “Good bye; God Bless.” She responded “Good bye, may heaven have mercy on you,” keeping her composure until leaving the room. She cried for a few moments before leaving for the town where her family was decimated to face a restless night. On the way back Captain Moore, riding in the carriage with Mary, attempted to express sympathy for the doomed man’s soon-to-be widow, but she “repelled all attempts,” saying her husband had not done anything to deserve the stain of being branded a criminal, much less execution. She “regarded him a martyr in a righteous cause.”14
Brown returned to his cell. Once again he turned to his pen, remembering he had forgotten to give Mary instructions for Oliver’s, Watson’s, and his own epitaphs, for inscription “on the old family Monument at North Elba.” He introduced this request by bidding her “another Farewell: ‘Be of good cheer’ and God Almighty bless, save, comfort, guide, & keep; you, to ‘the end.’” He wrote a last letter to his brother Jeremiah and read the comforting letter of a childhood friend, Lora Case, who wrote a blessing: may God give him strength and comfort him; she also asked for something in his handwriting to remember him. He went to bed at 9:00 p.m., sleeping well that last night.15
The last supper of John Brown and his wife in the parlor of John Avis, the jailer. (West Virginia Archives, Boyd B. Stutler collection)
While the Browns were having their farewell visit, the execution site was being prepared. The hanging was to take place east of town in a stubble field of corn and rye of about 40 acres. A company of soldiers, complying with part of General Taliaferro’s extensive orders, fixed flags designating the area of each military unit that was to occupy the field. Most of the field had been planted in rye, though some reported it as half and half, and others said the field was only 10 to 20 acres. In the center of this farmland was a broom handle with a small piece of paper attached, which marked the spot where the gallows were to be assembled the next morning, the day of the execution. Until then the not-yet-assembled gallows lay in a pile in the field. The execution site was close to a new Baptist church that had been built by the carpenter in charge of constructing the gallows. The field attracted visitors throughout the day, including members of the Alexander artillery, who argued over the uses of the different parts of the gallows. Some men removed their pocketknives and cut away pieces of the gallows as mementos. A child’s doll was found nearby and placed upon the scaffold, prompting coarse and crude jokes.
In a different part of town a carpenter’s shop contained a black walnut coffin waiting for the doomed man. Brown was to be placed in the coffin in civilian clothes before his remains were delivered to his wife. Both the gallows and casket attracted curious onlookers, and the coffin was sketched by a German artist of Leslie’s Weekly.
Leaving nothing to chance, those in charge of the hanging even tested rope prior to the execution. According to one reporter, “Some half dozen voluntary ropes for the execution” were sent to Sheriff Campbell. The first selected was tested the day before the execution and “broke when tried with the weight of fifty-sixes attached to it.” This was a reference to the cotton rope made in South Carolina. The final selection was hemp rope from Kentucky. It was rigged, according to the Tribune, “to give the body a fall of only eighteen inches—scarcely enough it was thought by some, who expressed a desire that Brown might fall ten feet, so as to insure his death…”16
Death on the Gallows
A beautiful sky with an array of pinks greeted dawn on a balmy Friday, December 2, 1859. How much Brown noticed it is not known. When he awoke he returned to writing under the window, answering his childhood friend and adding a codicil to his will stating that it was his desire that Mary “have all my personal property not previously disposed of by me.” This was his property that was scattered through Maryland and Virginia. He appointed Sheriff Campbell the executor and included, “I wish my friends James W. Campbell, Sheriff, and John Avis, Jailor, as a return of their kindness, each to have a Sharp-rifle of those belonging to me, or if none can be found a pistol.” Brown wrote the codicil, reported the Evening Star, “with a steady hand, and apparently with a continuous flow of thought, unchecked by the slightest ripple of discomposure.”
At sunrise newspaper representatives went to General Taliaferro to gain permission to visit the site where the gallows was being assembled. They received a lecture on failing to report at headquarters and were warned he wanted “no abolitionists or republican on the grounds.” Taliaferro sent the reporters “off under military escort.” When they arrived at the execution site they saw, according to an Evening Star, “a dozen men” placing together the yellow pine framework of the gallows. The uprights were of unequal lengths. Those over the trap measured 17 feet and the opposite ones were 14 feet long. The platform was 15 feet by 10 feet and was “reached by a rail flight” of a dozen steps.
Curiosity satisfied, the reporters went to the Carter House “for good corn bread and tough beef-steak.” Much consternation was created by the announcement that all the bars and drinking houses were closed for 24 hours. This was to lessen the possibility of a disturbance. The proprietor of the Carter House lamented he “would lose 150 dollars prospective profits.”
After breakfast the Star reporter went to the heavily guarded jail and found Brown examining papers. This time his hands were “somewhat tremulous” and he was looking rather “fagged out.” Andrew Hunter, who was with Brown until the prisoner left for the gallows, would many years later contend the opposite, that there was “no sign of tremor or giving way in him.”
Earlier that morning, about an hour and half before his execution, Brown had asked for Hunter to come see him. Despite feeling harried with the work of dealing with the execution, Hunter dropped what he was doing and went to Brown; despite having rewritten his will the day before, Brown wanted another rewrite. Hunter responded, “Captain you wield a ready pen, take it, and I will” guide you through the proper legal form. “It will be what is called a ‘holographic will’ being written and signed by yourself, it will need no witnesses.” Brown was not satisfied and replied, “Yes, but I am so busy now answering my correspondence of yesterday, and this being the day of my execution, I haven’t time and will be obliged if you will write it.” Hunter wrote down what Brown told him, repeating what he had written the day before. After completing the document Brown made additional suggestions requiring a codicil to be added. While Hunter worked on Brown’s will, the old insurrectionist busily wrote his last letters.
While the attorney finalized the will and the captain hurried to complete his last correspondence, Hazlett was one floor up, occupying the cell immediately above Brown. He was, according to a reporter, a “rough looking customer, with a crop of stiff hair bristling above his head.” He had not yet been tried, and he acted as if he would not be identified as a member of Brown gang. He was passing time by spitting tobacco juice “with considerable accuracy of aim at the shed-roof below.” In good spirits, he laughed with little provocation at “any odd or ludicrous incident” in the courtyard below. In the cell next to Hazlett, Cook was well aware of his plight and stayed away from the window.
The execution was to occur at 11:00 a.m. Around 10:30 Brown was told to prepare for his execution. As his hour of doom approached Brown asked to be taken into the cells of the men who followed him. He first saw Green and Copeland, instructing them to conduct themselves bravely and “not betray their friends, bidding them farewell and giving each a quarter, saying he had no further use for money.” The two African Americans shook hands with Brown but said nothing. Next he visited the cell of Cook and Coppoc, who were handcuffed together. Seeing Cook evoked resentment in Brown, who believed he had been misled by Cook’s scouting reports of support for the raid and betrayed by Cook’s incriminating confession.
He immediately charged Cook, the man he had sent to Harpers Ferry to gather intelligence (after Cook had possibly lobbied to go there), with having lied in his “Confessions.” Shocked and taken off guard, Cook asked what he meant. “You say I sent you to Harpers Ferry,” was the reply. Attempting to show this was not the case, Cook asked whether Brown hadn’t sent him to Harpers Ferry to find out what Forbes had revealed. Brown bluntly shot back, “You know I opposed it when first proposed.” “Captain, your memory is very different from mine,” replied Cook, and he dropped his head as Brown glared at him. Brown then turned to admonish Coppoc for making false statements but tempered his condemnation by saying he was glad Coppoc had corrected the error. He gave Coppoc a quarter and instructed him not to betray friends.
Brown’s last visit was to his cellmate and trusted lieutenant, the hot-tempered Stevens. This was more amicable. As they shook hands with warmth, Stevens said, “Goodbye Captain, I know you are going to a better place.” Brown replied, “I know I am,” and then instructed Stevens to stand up like a man and not betray friends, giving Stevens a quarter and a note from Proverbs of the value of controlling one’s temper. Brown refused to visit or address Hazlett, not wanting to implicate him as one of his men.17
Shortly before 11:00 a defenseless, old John Brown was taken from jail, escorted by the sheriff and jailor. Recounted one witness, “General Taliaferro and his entire staff” of 25, as well as “six companies of infantry and one of troop of horse,” were waiting in front of the jail to greet the raiders’ leader. Cavalry were at the rear and head of the column. A reporter contended Brown had earlier begged he be allowed to walk the approximate 400 yards to the gallows. There is little to substantiate this, and security would forbid it. As the old man left the jail, stated the New York Daily Tribune on December 6, 1859, and descended the steps, a mother held her black baby up to him, and he kissed the baby. The false story lingered in Brown lore for years before being discredited. So anxious were reporters for news that they were prone to embellishing, printing rumors they had heard as well as what they actually saw, making it more difficult for readers to tell fact from fiction. Another story that was printed and gained currency stated that as Brown was leaving the jail he supposedly looked upon his military escort and remarked, “I had no idea that Gov. Wise considered my execution so important.” Avis and the sheriff, who were with him as he left the jail and were the only two men on the gallows platform with Brown, would state years later in an affidavit that Brown had made no conversation or comments as he was leaving the jail. The sheriff did not initiate a conversation and then assess Brown’s calmness on the way to the gallows.
