He refused to let a man
who 'had the blood of the slaves on his skirts' minister to him. 'I
respect you as a gentleman, but a HEATHEN gentleman,' he would say.
'Don't let such go with me to the scaffold,' he asked. 'I would rather
have an escort of barefooted, bareheaded, ragged slave boys and girls
led by some old grey-headed slave mother.'

A sculptor who had conceived a great admiration for the brave old man
was ambitious to execute a marble bust of him. He applied to Mrs.
Stearns--Brown's old wealthy supporter--to aid him in his enterprise.
She readily promised to supply all funds, but, said she, 'You will have
a vain journey for the measurements. He will just say, "Nonsense; give
the money to the poor." You will then say, "Mr. Brown, posterity will
want to know what you looked like," and he will reply, "No consequence
to posterity how I looked; better give the money to the poor." But go
if you will and use my name.' And off went the eager artist. With
some difficulty he procured an interview with the prisoner. But woman
is far-sighted; sure enough the answer came, 'Nonsense; give the money
to the poor.' But the artist pleaded, 'Posterity will want to see what
you were like.' Said the man who longed that his work rather than his
memory should live, 'No consequence to posterity how I looked; give the
money to the poor.' However, the name of Mrs. Steams prevailed at
last, and with a thankful look he said, 'She must have what she
desires; take the measurements.'

The day of execution, December 2, 1859, drew near. Excitement
increased, and for the first time in the history of the Union the
passport system was introduced by the State Government of Virginia, and
was maintained during the last eight days of Brown's life, lest haply
aid from the North should be organized. Troops were present to the
number of 3,000, around the scaffold at Charlestown, when he was
carried forth to die. Rumour alleged that he had on the way to the
scaffold taken a slave child from its mother's arms and kissed it.
But, credible as it may have been to many, those who were present knew
he was too closely pinioned and guarded for it to be possible. He had
little to say--only one word of the glory of the surrounding scenery,
for he was a true son of Nature to the last. He had placed in an
official's hands a slip of paper with the following words upon it: 'I,
John Brown, am now quite certain that the crimes of this guilty land
wil