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Chapter 7: condemned to die.
The first of November was devoted to the trial of Coppoc, which was continued on the following day. No witnesses were called for the defence.
Mr. Harding for the
State, and
Messrs. Hoyt and
Griswold for the defence, followed by
Mr. Hunter, who closed for the prosecution, addressed the jury, who presently retired to appear to consider their pre-determined verdict — of
guilty.
“During the absence of the Jury in Coppoc's case,” says an eye witness, “in order that no time should be wasted,
John Brown was brought in from jail to be sentenced.
He walked with considerable difficulty, and every movement appeared to be attended with pain, although his features gave no expression of it. It was late, and the gaslights gave an almost deathly pallor to his face.
He seated himself near his counsel, and, after once resting his head upon his right hand, remained entirely motionless, and for a time appeared unconscious of all that passed around-especially unconscious of the execrations audibly whispered by spectators: ‘D-d black-hearted villain!
heart as black
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as a stove-pipe ’ and many such.
While the
Judge read his decision on the points of exception which had been submitted,
Brown sat very firm, with lips tightly compressed, but with no appearance of affectation of sternness.
He was like a block of stone.
When the clerk directed him to stand and say why sentence should not be passed upon him,.he rose and leaned slightly forward, his hands resting on the table.
He spoke timidly — hesitatingly, indeed — and in a voice singularly gentle and mild.
But his sentences came confused from his mouth, and he seemed to be wholly unprepared to speak at this time.
1 Types can give no intimation of the soft and tender tones, yet calm and manly withal, that filled the
Court room, and, I think, touched the hearts of many who had come only to rejoice at the heaviest blow their victim was to suffer.”
This is what he said:
I have, may it please the
Court, a few words to say.
In the first place, I deny every thing but what I have all along admitted — the design on my part to free the slaves.
I intended certainly to have made a clear thing of that matter, as I did last winter, when I went into
Missouri, and there took slaves without the snapping of a gun on either side, moved them through the country, and finally left them in
Canada.
I designed to have done the same tiling again, on a larger scale.
That was all I intended.
I never did intend murder,
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or treason, or the destruction of property, or to excite or incite slaves to rebellion, or to make insurrection.
I have another objection: and that is, it is unjust that I should suffer such a penalty.
Had I interfered in the manner which I admit, and which I admit has been fairly proved--(for I admire the truthfulness and candor of the greater portion of the witnesses who have testified in this case)--had I so interfered in behalf of the rich, the powerful, the intelligent, the so-called great, or in behalf of any of their friends, either father, mother, brother,
sister, wife, or children, or any of that class, and suffered and sacrificed what I have in this interference, it would have been all right, and every man in this Court would have deemed it an act worthy of reward rather than punishment.
This Court acknowledges, as I suppose, the validity of the
Law of God.
I see a book kissed here which I suppose to be the
Bible, or, at least, the New Testament.
That teaches me that all things “ whatsoever I would that men should do unto me I should do even so to them.”
It teaches me further, to “remember them that are in bonds as bound with them.”
I endeavored to act up to that instruction.
I say, I am yet too young to understand that God is any respecter of persons.
I believe that to have interfered as I have done, as I have always freely admitted I have done, in behalf of His despised poor, was not wrong, but right.
Now, if it is deemed necessary that I should forfeit my life for the furtherance of the ends of justice, and mingle my blood further with the blood of my children, and with the blood of millions in this slave country whose
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rights are disregarded by wicked, cruel, and unjust enactments — I submit: so let it be done.
Let me say one word further.
I feel entirely satisfied with the treatment I have received on my trial.
Considering all the circumstances, it has been more generous than I expected.
But I feel no consciousness of guilt.
I have stated from the first what was my intention and what was not. I never had any design against the life of ally person, nor any disposition to commit treason, or excite slaves to rebel, or make any general insurrection.
I never encouraged any man to do so, but always discouraged any idea of that kind.
Let me say, also, a word in regard to the statements made by some of those connected with me. I hear it has been stated by some of them that I have induced them to join me. But the contrary is true.
I do not say this to injure them, but as regretting their weakness.
There is not one of them but joined me of his own accord, and the greater part at their own expense.
A number of them I never saw, and never had a word of conversation with, till the day they came to me, and that was for the purpose I have stated.
Now I have done.
Perfect quiet prevailed while this speech was delivered; and, when he finished, the
Judge proceeded to pass sentence on him. After a few preliminary remarks, he stated that no doubt could exist of the guilt of the prisoner, and sentenced him to be hanged by the neck till he was dead, on Friday, the 2d day of December. “At the announcement,” said a spectator,
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“that, for the sake of example, the execution would be more than usually public, one indecent fellow, behind the
Judge's chair, shouted and clapped hands jubilantly; but he was indignantly checked, and in a manner that induced him to believe that he would do best to retire.
It is a question, nevertheless, if the general sentiment were not fairly expressed by this action.
John Brown was soon after led away again to his place of confinement.”
Was ever such a speech delivered in
America — so fearless, yet so gentle; so manly, modest, wise, God's-heart-imbued?
