When the day of his [John Brown's] execution arrived we had arranged for a gathering in the Town Hall, and had a wonderful meeting. I had insisted at the preliminary talks that all the speakers should be confined to reading other peoples writings, as there was too much danger of our giving way to treasonable utterances if we allowed ourselves to speak our own sentiments and the plan was cordially assented to. The hall was crowded, I think Hoar or Fay in the chair, Mr. Reynolds read from the Bible Mr. Emerson from Milton, Mr. Alcott from some heathen philosopher. I read the Execution of Montrose, from Aytouns ballads, and never saw a more effective impression made on an audience than did those stirring lines. DH Thoreau with his usual egotism broke the agreement and said some rambling incoherent sentences, that might have been unfortunate if they had not been unintelligible. Sanborn read something and so did Hoar but Ive forgotten what. A hymn was sung perhaps written by Channing and the ceremonies serious and sober as a funeral were over. All of us knew Old John, all admired him, and many rejoiced in his attack on slavery and there was a profound feeling of sorrow for his death. If I had not been Sheriff I should have gone to the trial to defend him I was so strongly moved by his courage and manliness.
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