The Sun.
London, England, 1866-12-29 00:00:00

The dinner last night was a complete success.

The enthusiasm at the mere mention of our Ame-
rican representatives was received with unbounded
applause.
We believe that the Queen will receive the
officers and gentlemen representing the New York
Yacht Club early this afternoon. The hospitality
extended is unbounded, and the difficulty and deli-
cacy is what to accept amid the universal hospita-
lity that meets ns from every portion of this com-
munity.
Mr. Bennett intends to Challenge Europe for £20,000,
to be deposited at Baring, Brothers, London.

The lIEYRIETTA sails on Monday, and, according to
general arrangements, the FLEETWING and VESTA
will jointly sail for Cherbourg.
To-morrow night the grand dinner takes place, when I
will send you a full report for next week. We have re-
ceived a telegram from London that a dinner will bo
offered to us in the metropolis.
Bo assured Americans appreciate this courtesy.

The Story of John Brown and His Death.
BY MAJOR A. R.

I have often wondered since I have been sojourn-
ing in England how many of all those who listen
to the air and sing the words of " John Brown "
have any idea of the individual to whom it refers.
It is popular in the theatre and the concert-hall,
you will hear it at Brighton and Scarborough, at
Wiesbaden and Boulogne. Military bands in
Prussia and Austria, in Saxony and Bavaria, have
alike added it to their repertoire. Far off in India,
in China, and Japan that pathetic tune has
become as familiar as household words, the
very itinerant organ-grinders have taught it to
the masses, so that every little child that can
whistle or sing a note must needs give vent to their
musical inspiration by singing—
" John Brown's body lies a-mouldering hi the grave."
I have heard it sung with a terribly earnest mean-
ing by thousands of Northern soldiers as they
marched to the battle-field. Confederates and
Federals alike adopted the air, but to entirely dis-
similar words. Around the camp fire at night, in
the death-destroying trenches, and in the flush of
victory, that air could be either made grave or gay,
solemn or joyous, song or hymn. Whether Jeff
Davis or poor Lincoln was to be hung " on a sour
apple tree " time alone could determine, but that
millions gave expression to their wishes by adapt-
ing the air of John Brown there can be no doubt.
I remember once, just before the Northern or
Union army moved on Manassas, being in
Washington preparing to depart for the front as
soon as orders were given for a forward movement.
Troops were pouring in by thousands, infantry,
cavalry, and artillery filled Pennsylvania Avenue
(that broad avenue that sweeps between the marble
capitol and the White House). All night and all
day the long baggage trains went rumbling on as
though there were no end. One morning it rained
a miniature deluge ; the liquid mud was something
wonderful, it was an unbroken sea, and yet around
this river and through this mud, ancle deep, a
Massachusetts regiment of volunteers, who had just
arrived, marched along as steadily as Grenadiers,
and though they were going to face death's dark
valley, " from whence no traveller returns," from
a thousand voices, loud, solemn, and grand, rose
the chorus of John Brown, while the band lent
effect to the whole ; and now as I walk along the
streets, the alleys and bye-lanes, and hear this
chorus, I wonder how many can tell me
who John Brown was, whether those many
singers can tell me the history of the man,
the eventful life he led, or call to mind the tragic
termination of his career, and the terrible results
which eventually ensued in consequence of his exe-
cution.

lam not going to write an extended biography,
neither do I desire to give the history of this man's
whole life, but his last days and death will and must
ever be of interest, as they were the beginning of
that mighty war, which for four long years shook
the American Continent to its centre. The remem-
brance of that insurrection, of John Brown's de-
fence and capture, his trial and death, are as vividly
depicted on my mind as though I were now, as I was
then, an eye-witness, aid I have thought an account
of his last days might prove of interest to those who
sing the song of " John Brown."
I was a Special Correspondent, and, though blessed
with all those- -comforts which should lead one to
seek horne'and ease, yet from early youth the love
of novelty and excitement were so strong that I
thought, nothing of travelling two or three thousand
miles fora sensation, and my position necessarily
required me to be ready to start anywhere where
there might be food for the newspaper. I was ever
on the move—to-day at a political convention at
Charleston, the next at a grand fair at the West ;
then down. South to the races in New Orleans, per-
haps in another week among the manufactories of
the East, where there was a universal strike ; then
off again on a pleasant trip, celebrating the opening
of some railway in the West ; then back to New
York, to accompany the Japanese or the Prince of
Wales on an extended tour. Such is the life of a
Special Correspondent.

I remember I had just returned from a three
months' most enjoyable summer trip across the Lakes,
by Niagara, through the Canadas and the various
watering places, and was engaged in the American
occupation of loafing in the hotel at which I so-
journed. One evening every one was thrown into a
state of wondrous excitement by the newsboys.
" Here's the 'xtra Herald—got the great 'surrection
at Harper's Ferreee !" Thus they shouted. Having
purchased a paper it took but a few seconds to per-
ceive the gist of the news. There was an insurrec-
tion at Harper's Ferry, on the borders of Virginia,
and blood had been shed. It was headed by a man
named John Brown, and his declared intention was
to set all the negroes free. I comprehended the
full danger such a movement threatened to the
South ; but, of course, with the vague information
at hand, it was impossible to tell how extensive or
formidable it was. The mere fact of their having
seized the Armoury looked ominous enough. With-
out much preparation I started off by the night
train for Washington. In passing through Balti-
more early in the morning I perceived soldiers were
hurrying through the streets, and, while changing
cars, I managed to secure a morning paper, which
gave more full particulars. It appeared those en-
gaged in the plot at present were few in number ;
that in the evening, when the smiths had vacated
the Armoury, they had rushed through the gate,
seized the master armourer and one or two assist•