The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1871-07-28

AN ANECDoTE OF OLD JOHN Brown
Early in the spring of the year which witness
ed the John Brown sacrifice, Judge Cunning
ham, holding commission from Buchanan,
rode out to a little country seat near Atchisom
where he had heard Brown was staying, foe
the purpose of arresting him. Arriving az
the house he rode up to the door, dsmOuntel
with his fonr companions, and inquired for
John Brown. The lady asked the party ID
sit and she would call him. Presently he ap-
peared, and Cunningham seeing that Brown
did not know him, and feeling certain of his
victim, began to converse with him. After an
exceedingly pleasant interview, Cunningham
informed Brown that he had come to arrest
him, and that he must have his company
forthwith to Atchison, where Brown knew
death was certain.
"From the mans demeanor at this mo-
ment," said Cunningham afterwards, ST saw
that was to be disappointed, but how
could not imagine. For he was completely
alone with my soldiers and myself, and [
knew that the country through which We
should pass was unfriendfy to the abolition
ist, should he attempt to escape. Further
more, knew Brown was ignorant of my mis-
sion up to the moment when l declared It,
He could not therefore, have been prepared
for me. But the mans self-control was won-
derful His countenance did not change a
| line from the light cordial expression it hal
| worn at the conclusion of his last sentence.
| He continued the subject, as if l had not
| spoken; and, for moment l staggered int
| the belief that my tongue had slipped and
had not said what bad intended. However,
repeated my errand and took a step forward
10 llva Wh I falt
detained by hand on my shoulder. turn
ed and an armed man, not one of my soldiers,
stood at my back. Behind him was another,
| and behind him another-a vertebrated chain
| of men extending from the corner OF tile
house to the bushes. They. must have come
| at some signal from Brown who quickly said:
| "YOu see you are all my prisoners" HIS
tone was unchanged. But his countenance
| was sad as if weighed down with a new re-
sponsbility. He seemed to be perfectly una-
| ware of my discontinue, and, after mo-
/ ment,s pause said simply, II believe must
find out what to do with you all" lie retired
I to corner of the piazza, as l supposed TO
/ consult with a confederate. But presently a
| whispered remark from one of my men made
| me turn, and 10, there the old man was,
kneeling in prayer, ia an inaudable voice. n"s
with great earnestness. / eolud not he n
laughing. In a moment Brown rose and
| coming up, said the soldiers should be reeas-
ed, but II shall not ask God about you, for
you laughed" And he positively kept me
there three days, and leetnred me in the in
terim about reverence!
Those who share Cunningham's feeling of
merriment at Browns entreaty OF God. will
also share his amazement at Browns sI-
premacy over self. Both belong to region
of religious experience little trespassed upon.
| Ofboth, as is well known to lovers Of the he
roic in history. Browns career furnishes
much more striking in the old M Jewsh S
sense % % and nothing could be Of significance
enough % TO to dispossess him. His sonl took fast
hold on God; and to the man, John Brown'
there probably never has come perllons mo-
ment--lCharles J, Woodbury., in the Golden
| Age,