“ [406] systems, dried and varnished, and have the whole hung up as a nice anatomical illustration. Some of the students wished to stuff the skin ; others to make it into game pouches.” Such is the spirit of Southern Slavery! “The body once in its coffin and on its way back to the jail,” wrote a correspondent, “the field was quickly deserted, the cannon, limbered up again, rumbled away, and the companies of infantry and troops of cavalry in solid column marched away. The body had not left the field before the carpenters began to take the scaffold to pieces, that it might be stored up against the 16th instant, when it will be used to hang Cook and Coppic together. A separate gallows will be built for the two negroes.” “The night after the execution has set in dark and stormy. The south wind has brought up a violent storm.” The body of John Brown was delivered to his widow at Harper's Ferry, and by her it was carried to North Elba, where it now lies at rest on the bosom of the majestic mountain region that he loved when living. It was interred as only dead heroes should be buried. There was no vast assemblage of “the so-called great;” no pompous parade; no gorgeous processions; but loyal worth and noble genius stood at the grave of departed heroism; for his friends and his family wept as the Heaven-inspired soul of Wendell Phillips pronounced the eulogium of John Brown,--the latest and our greatest martyr to the teachings of the Bible and the American Idea.
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