Part 2
"I was born near Calais, Me., in the year 1815, of moral, honest, and industrious parents, who were kind, tender, and loving towards me, their only and unworthy son. Instead of adding comfort to their venerable years, I brought grief and sorrow to their hearts, and disgrace to their heads. I lived with my father until I was seventeen years old, when I left his house in consequence of my father's contrary disposition, which I thought I had much reason to complain of; but alas! to my sorrow, I since became sensible of my error, but too late both for their comfort and my happiness. Hearing so much of the enterprise of a city life, I determined to try it. I despised my father's counsel, and strolled about from place to place, associating myself with idle and dissipated company, and soon became one of the most idle and dissolute wretches in existence. In this manner I roved about, and finally went to New York, from there to Albany--not finding employment, I started off for Montreal, but stopped at La Prairie, and finally agreed to serve as bar-keeper for Sophia Hamilton; and in November, 1835, I was accessory to the murder of Parker, from Quebec, on his way to New York, and in about three months after, I was the principal leader of the gang who laid an obstruction across the road, when we killed and robbed the two travellers. I then had plenty of money, and I so much feared the arm of detection, that I returned to New York, joined a gang of low, dissipated, gambling fellows, joined in companionship and agreed to share equally in whatever we should make. We robbed a man on the Harlæm road of $400--he made a desperate resistance. I drew a large knife, which I generally carried with me, and stabbed him, when he fell, exclaiming, 'I am murdered!' Seeing the murder a few days afterwards in the papers, and the Mayor offering $1000, I feared my companion in the crime might be induced to turn States' evidence. I then determined to leave for New Orleans or some other Southern city. I immediately embarked for New Orleans--having plenty of money, I resolved to appear the gentleman. I soon became acquainted with a pretty lady, of an excellent education, whose father was a rich and respectable merchant of that city. She received my addresses very cordially for some time, but soon began to suspect that I was not what I pretended, and grew daily more cold and reserved in my presence. I then tried to persuade her to elope with me, but she at once refused, saying that she never would marry contrary to the will of her parents. Finding that I could not induce her to accede to my plans, I then determined on her ruin. About this time I received tidings of the death of my only sister, father, and mother; and seeing that I was now deprived of all my relatives, as also of my father's farm, I became, if possible, more reckless in my mind. I then persuaded her to accompany me in a ride for pleasure, and conducted her to a house of ill repute, called for a room, and desired not to be disturbed. I then locked and bolted the door. Perceiving this, she inquired why I did so. I then told her what my intentions were, promising her at the same time, that if she would consent to marry me before returning to her father's house, I would desist. This she flatly refused, saying at the same time, that she would rather die than ever permit herself to be led to the altar by me, after taking such a dishonorable course. She then attempted to escape, but finding that I prevented her, she began to cry out for help, which so enraged me, that I caught up a towel which was hanging in the room, and tried to force it into her mouth. She resisted with all her might. I then twisted it around her neck, choking her until she was insensible. I then accomplished my hellish purpose, and knowing that if she should recover, she would immediately expose me, I therefore resolved upon her death, which I consummated by tying a pocket handkerchief around her neck so tight as to prevent the possibility of her breathing. I then left her, and, making my way unperceived, fled from the city. After that, my disposition became, if possible, more reckless.--I cared little for what I did. I reproached myself with all the bitterness of anguish, and my very soul was tormented for years, as though I felt the wrath of God and the torments of hell. I would this moment, if I had that choice, suffer twenty mortal deaths, such as she did, than again enter into the like feelings which I have since suffered--but I am about to be released.--But if you who hear me could but conceive the slightest idea of the suffering my poor heart felt, you would, no doubt, look on me with pity and not with scorn; but I hope my death will be an example to those who survive me, for I am satisfied to leave this world; and I deserve the fate that awaits me."
Brown then faltered back, faintish and silent, and in a few moments received the just sentence of the law. The ill-fated, innocent, and defenceless victim to his savage and cruel feelings, whose name was Sera Milton, was murdered on the 22d day of June, 1830, as was ascertained by Brown's previous confession, while in prison awaiting the day of execution, and from her dear and loving parents, whom he caused to mourn and sigh in bitter anguish for the loss of their affectionate and only daughter.
Sophia Hamilton's cruelty at this time had reached to a mature age, for she was enveloped in innocent blood; and it seemed almost impossible that such crimes could be committed by one of such tender looks and affectionate feelings as she seemed to possess; for even at the bar she gained the sympathy of almost every spectator, and even the judge, when passing sentence, looked deeply affected; but of that we will speak in its proper place.
Five years passed quite smoothly, or at least without any known incident of cruelty. She moved from her old stand to the village of Saint John's, about eighteen miles distant from La Prairie, her previous habitation, and there commenced business anew, but in a more stylish and fashionable house than the one she had before occupied. Her house, as before, was soon the principal resort of smugglers between Montreal, Plattsburg, N. Y., and Burlington, Vt., so that she had again a wide field to exercise her atrocious and fiend-like designs. In the month of April, 1841, a gentleman named Lucas, from Albany, N. Y., called at her house and put up for the night; he was on his way to Quebec, where he had connection with a saw mill. She ascertained that he had considerable money with him; for she still made a practice of inquiring the business and circumstances of travellers, in order to find the object of her desire. While he was at breakfast, she came behind him and plunged a large knife through his back; he fell, screaming for some moments, and then expired. Two of her consorts, who had been previously sent for, came in; but she, fearing they would not come in season, had attempted and completed her object alone.
They robbed him of 800 dollars, and carried his body to the wharf and threw it overboard, attaching a large stone to it to prevent it from rising. He was, I believe, a kind, charitable and good-hearted man, revered and respected by all who knew him.
While things were going on in this style without interruption, during the course of the ensuing year, about the middle of July, 1842, a merchant from Charleston, South Carolina, on his way to Montreal, stopped at her house; she found that he had money, as she had discoursed with him on the slave trade, and finding that he himself was engaged in the traffic of slaves, she immediately resolved that he never should sell any more. She then put him to sleep in a room separate from the main part of the house, and with two of her associates entered the room by a secret passage, which they had fixed for such purposes, and one of them cut his throat from ear to ear, while the others held him in the bed; they then robbed him of 4000 dollars, together with a valuable gold watch, worth 120 dollars. The body was afterwards buried in the cellar, where his remains were deposited without a monument to record that he once existed. Soon after this, she cruelly murdered a boy, twelve years of age, whom she had in the house in the capacity of waiter or servant, because he accidentally saw them secreting the body of the murdered man, and had said, when he was one day angry, that he would inform of them; but she resolved, like the pirates, that the dead should tell no tales; she ordered him down to the cellar to regulate something, and followed him, with a large knife; while he was stooping, she stabbed him to the heart! She then dragged him over, and threw his lifeless body among the skeletons.
This inhuman and cruel murder of the unoffending and faithful domestic, is the only instance of her disinterested cruelty, since the murder of her husband and child; for we find, that the love of money seemed to be the sole object of her desire, if that could be any apology for her outrageous crimes. But the more she seemed to get, the more her thirst increased, regardless of the price which it was to cost, and by indulgence arrived to mature age; so that in place of being an ornament to her honored sex, she became a scourge to her fellow creatures, as we find by the confession of her associates in guilt, as well as from her own confession.
About the middle of June, 1844, she murdered an Irishman, who was in the smuggling business for some time previous, and who was in the habit of putting up at her house, it being convenient to the steamboat wharf; but of his death we have no other account, than that which we collect from her confession, which will be seen in the following pages. However, report says that he was a respectable man, who for many years resided in the city of Quebec, and left a kind, affectionate, and loving wife, and six orphan children, to sigh and lament after him. The amount of property which it is said he had with him when he left Montreal, is variously stated, but we are satisfied that it was considerable.
About six weeks afterwards, two male emigrants come along and put up at her house, we believe natives of Yorkshire, England, and during the course of the evening, she joined in with them in quite a sociable conversation, about the old country, as they were well acquainted with that section which was once dear to her ill-fated father, by which she discovered such information as she required; and of that also, a more detailed account will be found in her confession, as it is the principal authority we have of those two occurrences.
Reader, how great must be the patience of the Almighty, who watches over us, and desireth not the death of the sinner. But alas! what is human nature, when strayed away from the path of virtue. How easy to corrupt, and how hard to reclaim. But it sometimes pleases divine providence to suffer the cruelty and wickedness of the indulged passion, until there is no remedy in its own limits, so that its downfall may be the more observable, as will be seen of this ill-fated family, the history of which would fill a large volume. But as our limits will only afford a glance, we hope it may be a seasonable lesson, or example, to those who may have the responsibility of discharging that duty which is expected of parents, as also those who owe a duty to their parents, that they may earn that blessing, by obedience, which is pleasing to God, that they may expect the same in return.
It was about this time that she received the news of the death of her afflicted mother, who, as report says, was confined to her room for several years before her death; as also the sudden and untimely death of her only brother, of whom she had heard nothing for many years, whose name was Isaac Jones. He was shot at Kingston, U. C., for horse stealing. He had continued his riotous and dissipated life, after the marriage of Sophia, and finally joined a gang of horse thieves and counterfeiters, which infested the country round about the Lakes. This gang had a regular communication established through from Toronto to Detroit, and from Kingston across through the States to New York. On one occasion, Jones was returning after leaving a number of horses thus stolen, and for which he had received a considerable sum of money for his services, and on passing the officers' quarters, he entered the stable, but was observed by one of the veterans on the look-out, who, on perceiving the door open, gave the alarm to the guard, and Jones, on hearing the alarm given, mounted the horse and putting spurs to the animal, started off at full speed, with the guard in full pursuit, and although they were on foot, they knew the road better than he did, for he killed the horse, which he rode against a gate, and he was shot by the enraged men. His body was taken to the hospital and there deposited, but could not be identified, nor could they obtain any intelligence that would lead to a discovery of his name, and it was only about a year since that it was discovered that Isaac Jones was the name of the man who was shot. Thus ended the unhappy career of father and son, and we shall soon see the unhappy termination of the life of the youngest daughter. What a melancholy contemplation for the reader, when it appears that, like their cruel father, they knew no fear, but were of a perverse and cruel disposition, and seemed to set no value on the lives of their fellow beings; and strange, though true, that those who purchase property at such a sacrifice, seldom know how to take care of it, and however much they may have, seem to thirst for more. Therefore, the temptations of Satan are vigilant and unceasing, which, when once obtained possession of, it is very difficult to dispossess, and should be guarded against in youth.
After the news of the death of her brother, Sophia became, if possible, more barbarous and cruel than before. She now seemed to take no delight whatever in any thing but acts of the most blood-thirsty and inhuman nature. Nothing now seemed to satisfy her murderous disposition but the death of some innocent, and to her, unoffending victim. But her career was nearly run. She had carried it to such a height that it was impossible to continue in this way much longer, without being overtaken by justice. And it was not long after this, that she was, by the following circumstance, exposed, and her gang broken up, and some of them brought to condign punishment for the high handed and outrageous crimes they had for a long time committed, and thus far without detection; and it seemed among the most extraordinary circumstances of the age.
She had a new gang of associates, who were not quite so expert as those on former occasions. They murdered a Quaker, who was travelling in that section of the country, in November, 1844, whose name was Morse, who put up at her house to board, as he intended to import some American manufactures, and it was necessary that he should stop at St. Johns, until the merchandise passed through the custom house. During his stay in that village, he of course formed considerable many acquaintances, and said to a friend, with whom he had some intercourse, that he would stop at the widow's that night and probably board there, which he did, for he was seen there three days after.--After the lapse of two weeks, a package came, in care of Mr. Johnson, for Mr. Morse; another week elapsed, during which time Mr. Johnson thought it strange that Mr. Morse did not call. As he was riding past, he thought he would let him know that a package had arrived for him. He inquired for Mr. Morse; Sophia told him that no such gentleman stopped there; he then inquired when he left, and she said she never knew a gentleman of that name to put up with her. Mr. Johnson went home quite dissatisfied, and, on opening the package, he found, among other things, a letter from his wife, in which she expressed considerable dissatisfaction at his intention of stopping so long. It seems that Morse had written to his wife informing her that he intended to be absent for some time. Her letter went on thus:--"My dear husband, I am sorry that you cannot either finish your business or leave it in the hands of some trustworthy person, as it must be disagreeable to you to board at a tavern; but as the owner of the house is a widow, I suppose it bears more similarity to a private boarding house. I hope your health is good, but I am dreadfully annoyed in my sleep about you." These things looked very strange and suspicious. And in a few days a flame of suspicion spread all around the neighborhood, until some persons came into Mr. Johnson's store, who said they had talked with Mr. Morse in the tavern two days after he went there to board; while others had remarked the idle, sauntering fellows that were seen continually hovering around the tavern, having no likely business, and many other circumstances were alluded to, until suspicion became so strong in the minds of the people, that they resolved to make a private search, but not until Mr. Johnson, accompanied by some others, went again to make inquiry, but the answer was the same as before. She seemed much confused, which strengthened their suspicions. Accordingly they went the following afternoon and visited Sophia's house, making some pretence for the visit; one of them said that he was about to build himself a new house, and asked her to give him permission to examine her house, that he might measure and take the dimensions of it, as he liked the plan on which it was constructed. Not suspecting any thing, she granted the privilege, though taking care to lock the cellar. They then made such examination as they were able, but discovered nothing above. However, to satisfy their suspicions, they determined to see the cellar, but found it bolted fast, and on their return up a back stairway into the kitchen, they questioned an old domestic as to what was kept in the cellar. She shook her head and said she dare not tell. They then promised to give her a handsome reward if she would only tell them, but her mistress coming in at the moment, prevented any further conversation. They then concluded that their information was quite sufficient. The next morning they proceeded to the house, accompanied by the sheriff and constable; and Sophia and two of her consorts, Wilson and Rogers, were taken after a desperate resistance. They were kept in custody until the cellar was searched, where the body of Morse was found, amongst skeletons and other emaciated remains. The prisoners were carried to Montreal prison, on the following day, (10th of December,) to await the sitting of the Queen's Bench, which sat on the 8th of April, but was postponed until the above term. In the interim, Wilson turned Queen's evidence, and discovered the whole mystery of the murder of Morse, and declared that Rogers was innocent of the murder, for none but himself and Sophia were guilty of perpetrating the horrid deed. And Rogers was immediately released, as the Grand Jury ignored the bills against him.