History: The Brown Murders: The Crime of the Century, 1840, Hill Valley, Huntingdon County, PA Contributed by Patty Cavills for use in the USGenWeb Archives Used with permission of the author, Jon Baughman, from his book More Strange and Amazing Stories of Raystown Country, Saxton, PA: Broad Top Bulletin, 2003. Copyright 2005. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/pafiles.htm _______________________________________________ The Brown Murders: The Crime of the Century In 1840, Huntingdon County and the surrounding region was shocked by news of the brutal murder of the family of William Brown-a wife and five children-in Hill Valley near Shirleysburg. The murderer, Brown's son-in-law, was brought to trial, found guilty and hanged. Over the years the story of the Brown murders has entertained, intrigued, and shocked area residents. Not long ago the editor stumbled upon several fairly extensive accounts of this brutal slaying. The story is being retold this week and next. The late D.M. Bare of Roaring Spring, a founder of the paper mill in that community, spent several of his childhood years on a farm near Three Springs, Huntingdon County. In his autobiography, "Looking Eighty Years Backward," Bare recalls the Brown murders. Bare writes, "I do not remember any of the detail of the murder at the time it was committed, but I do remember of six horsemen riding up to the front of our house, who on the way to their homes had stopped to tell us of the happenings at the hanging of the murderer. At that time the Sheriff of the county did the hanging and it was open to any of the public who might want to see it." Regarding the murder, Bare said, "My cousin Peter M. Bare heard the shooting and I think was the first person to arrive on the scene and see the dead bodies lying around. He was one of the witnesses at the trial that condemned McConaughy." Sherman Day's "History of Pennsylvania" gives the following account of the incident: "On Saturday, the 30th of May, 1840 within two miles of Shirleysburg, Huntingdon County, PA, a series of murders were committed which, for atrocity, have scarcely a parallel on record. No less that six human beings were hurried from time to eternity by the hand of a cold-blooded murderer, the victims being a Mrs. Brown and her five children, from the ages of twenty-one to ten years. The old lady was found with her throat cut, the son aged twenty-one and the daughter about sixteen, with rifle balls through their bodies, three younger ones with their brains knocked out with stones, in a field by the dwelling, supposed to have fled on witnessing the butchering of their mother, etc. Mr. Brown was away from home and upon his return a short time after his family were murdered, was fired at twice from the barn, the last ball taking effect ranging along the lower jaw and passing through the ear. He was stunned but did not fall. At the moment of receiving the second fire, he saw a man jump from the barn loft and make for the woods; this man, he believed, was his son-in-law, by name McConaughy. On this suspicion, or rather strong belief, McConaughy was arrested and the testimony taken before examining and committing magistrates went to fix guilt strongly upon him." "It appears that Brown, the father-in-law, owns a farm worth three or four thousand dollars. McConaughy on the morning of the murder started with his wife for the residence of his mother, some miles distant. He had contrived, however, before starting to procure the return to their father's residence of the son and daughter, who were absent aiding in his field labors a neighbor not far distant, by coining a plausible story so that every opportunity for the deed might be made fully and effectively available. Had he succeeded in destroying the father-in-law, his (McConaughy's) wife, the only survivor, would have inherited the estate. This was undoubtedly the moving cause of this fiendish deed. In addition it was evidence that he had borrowed his father-in-law's two rifles and they were found in the barn from whence the murderer fled. McConaughy was arrested in bed at his mother's residence the same night." A more detailed and descriptive account of the crime was printed in the "Philadelphia North American" in 1911 was part of a series titled, Pennsylvania's Greatest Crime Mysteries. Others called it, The Murders of the Century. The following account is taken from the "North American" account: The family which was to be annihilated was that of William Brown, whose home was in Cromwell Township, Huntingdon County about 10 miles southward from Mount Union. The family, in that region, primitive as it was, was making its struggle for existence, and though the life was a hard one it was not altogether unsuccessful. Brown had acquired a farm of about 120 acres on the east slope of Jack's Mountain, with a one-story log house on it small and crude, it is true, but sufficient for the rearing of his children. There was a barn, larger than the house, in which to shelter animals and store the crops and some other small buildings. In one of them lived Robert McConaughy, whose wife was Brown's daughter. The owner of so much land could not be regarded as poor in those days. It was the possession of this land that was to bring death on all his household but himself. Beneath Brown's roof were sheltered, besides himself, his wife, Roseanna; his daughter Elizabeth 17, and his sons George, 16; Jacob, 14; and David, 10. He had another son John, just reaching manhood, who on account of quarrels with his father did not live at home but worked on a farm in Shirleysburg, four miles away. He had two other daughters, the wife of McConaughy and one living in Centre County. Brown did not do his own farming but worked at Matilda Furnace on the Juniata River opposite Mount Union and McConaughy did the farm work in exchange for a share of the crops. William Brown was held in respect and good will by the mountaineers. He was the best marksman in the neighborhood, defeating all who contested with him at target shooting and proving himself the most successful huntsman, at a time when game abounded plentifully and hunting was repaid with ample returns. There were others, however, who did not regard him with favor; not that he had ever committed any violence, but he was rough in his ways and prone to dire threats, which he never carried out. McConaughy had spent the 31 years of his life in the vicinity. He was illiterate; he could not write or read. He had no money and no means of getting it, except from the proceeds from the farm. How could he acquire wealth? He resolved that the only way he could become wealthy was to become the owner of the farm. The idea became a passion and he resolved to let noting stand between him and his desire. Human life was not worth considering, if it were an obstacle to the execution of his purpose. He did not recoil from the taking of seven lives that were preventing, and might forever prevent, the descent of the land to his wife. The whole family, except McConaughy's own wife and her sister in Centre County, were to be wiped out. He laid his plans with the deliberation of the born murderer. It was first necessary to find or create the opportunity. He must bring his intended victims together at the farm in such manner and such order-Brown from Matilda Furnace and John from Shirleysburg so that he could kill them in such detail that the survivors were not aware of what had happened to those who were dead. It must be done in one day and nothing must be permitted to occur that would cause any to take alarm and escape. On what day of the week could these conditions be best brought about? Apparently on Saturday, for on that day Brown came home from the furnace. So Saturday, May 30 was fixed. It was only necessary to induce John to come and all would be there, the father and oldest son arriving at different hours. How could John be lured to the death prepared for him? He was not in the habit of visiting the old home, he and his father not being good friends. What inducement could be offered? McConaughy had a story ready. Brown was raising a colt, then just a year old. John had been anxious to own it ever since it was foaled. He had asked his father to sell it to him when they were on better terms but the request had been refused. Knowing John's desire to own the colt, McConaughy went on Friday, the day before the one set for the murder, to the farm where John was employed. He first sought Samuel Carothers, the farmer. He pretended to be much interested in John's health and welfare and expressed a suspicion that the young man was spending his money and running into debt. Carothers assured him there was no truth to the report; that John had contracted no debt he could not pay and had money coming, which he could get at any time. This was the information McConaughy received. He went to the field where John was plowing corn, and told him his father had decided to sell the colt to him. John asked how much his father wanted for it, and McConaughy said it was about $10 or $15, he thought. The young man had better get the money and come home with it the next day. John was not sure that he would be done plowing in time to go on Saturday, and it would not do. His father would go back to the furnace on Sunday, McConaughy told him, and if the son wanted to see him he must go the next day. John promised to go. McConaughy had now arranged for the presence of every member of the family at the farm on Saturday. He went there himself and spent the night. Not desiring his wife and children to see what was to occur, he aroused them early the next morning and took them without breakfast, to his mother's home further up the mountain, several miles away. There he ate his breakfast and returned to the farm, ready to perform his ghastly work. It was not later than 10 o'clock when he arrived. Mrs. Brown was engaged in her household duties, assisted by daughter Elizabeth. They were baking that day and were kneading the dough and preparing it for the oven. The younger children were amusing themselves in the fields and in the woods. It is not clear which of the children was killed first. The indications given by the bodies did not agree with the statements made by McConaughy in his confession. Dr. D. J.D. Lightner, the physician who made the post-mortem examinations, said in his testimony that he thought Jacob and Elizabeth were the first killed. This fact was argued to the jury by attorney George Taylor, who later served as President Judge of Huntingdon County. Taylor was counsel for the Commonwealth. But in his last words McConaughy said that the order of the killing was George, David, Jacob and Elizabeth. The bodies of Jacob and Elizabeth were the first to be found on Sunday morning, and those of David and George were the last, in the afternoon. Taking them in the order in which they were found, the tragedies were successively these: McConaughy told Jacob that the "boys were gunning back there." This was westward from the house, past the barn, and up toward the mountain. The boy ran ahead and McConaughy falling behind, sent a bullet through his brain. It entered his head near the top and came out in front, breaking a piece from the skull. The boy fell dead. His hat was found with stones on it, bloody inside with the bullet hole in it. The murderer had partially covered the body with old leaves and sticks. The sound of the shot was heard far and wide on the mountainside and down the valley, as were others fired by McConaughy that day, but excited no interest, gunshots being of frequent occurrence. McConaughy then went to the barn, which gave him a view of the front door of the house. Here he could see who was coming and going. There were spaces between the log of the upper part of the barn through which he could see. He partly closed these openings with straw, leaving an opening large enough to peer and fire through. His plan called for killing the three boys first, leaving the two women inside the house. But not finding the chance he sought, he went to the house he told Elizabeth he had found a patch of strawberries and asked her to go with him to gather them. She assented and took a little bucket with her. He led her toward the spot where Jacob's body was lying. When she was near it, he struck her on the head with a stone and beat her with it, until there were incisions through the scalp two and three inches long. Then he put his foot on her and choked her until he was sure she was dead. He then covered her with leaves and sticks. Decomposition had set in when she and Jacob were found; it was this fact that led Dr. Lightner to believe they were killed first. George was enticed in the opposite direction and beaten to death with the supple of a flail. The back of his skull was fractured, both bones of his right arm two inches above the wrist were broken, and his lower jaw was fractured. Finding the boy still alive, McConaughy choked him to death. When found, the flesh from his head and neck had been eaten by some animal. McConaughy and George had been especially close for some months and seemed to have matters of confidential nature to talk about. According to the confession, George was the first one killed. David, the youngest, easily persuaded, was led into the woods near where George had been killed. He was knocked down with a stick and strangled. His face was black and his tongue swollen and protruding when the boy was found. There was a bullet hole through his trousers, the ball having grazed him in passing. Four of the children were lying dead, but Mrs. Brown was unaware that anything had happened. McConaughy returned to the barn and awaited her appearance at the door. It was not long before she came near the door. He shot, the ball striking her arm. He ran into the house under pretense to help her, and asked if she knew who shot her. She replied she did not; he gave her a drink of water and urged her to go to bed. Then got the axe and struck her above the right eve, knocking her over on the bed. He cut her throat with the axe and covered her with a quilt. A fractured skull was sufficient to cause death and the slit throat was unnecessary, it was reported later. Alone, McConaughy searched the house for valuables. He had ascertained several days earlier, by a ruse, that Brown had $30 in the house. He had showed his father-in-law a Mexican dollar and asked him if he had any money like it. Brown took a key from the top of the clock, unlocked a small chest, took out the money and showed McConaughy he had a dollar like it. He replaced the money, locked the chest, and put the key back. McConaughy took the key, opened the chest and took the money except $5, which in a pocketbook, was overlooked. He also took some tobacco, together with percussion caps and lead, and hid them in a jar. Covered with the blood of his victims, McConaughy washed the axe, fastened down the windows of the house, shut the door and took off the handle of the door so it could not be opened. In the barn he hid the tobacco, caps and ammunition. After a brief rest he walked to his own house, about 100 yards away, procured water and soap, washed his shirt and trousers and hung them in the sun to dry. He put on an old shirt and pants. After washing McConaughy returned to the barn to wait for John. Just as he had promised, John appeared. He had gone to his employer, Mr. Carothers and had received $10 of his wages with which to by a colt from his father. He arrived at the farm abut 2 p.m., and dismounted, tying the horse to the fence. He was unable to enter the house because the door handle was gone. McConaughy fired; the bullet struck the young man in the chest, passing through his body and into the door. He started to run, climbed a fence, and fell dead as he approached the barn. John was of large stature and heavy; McConaughy dragged the corpse to the house and into the little back room, and pushed it under the bed in which his dead mother was lying. He rifled John's pockets, removing the $10 and another dollar, took John's horse to the barn, and waited for the arrival of his father-in-law. Mr. Brown had left Matilda Furnace early in the afternoon, crossed the river and canal at Mount Union, and during the walk he had company part of the way and was seen by others. This proved important later on, when some suspected that Brown had murdered his family. He carried a skillet (griddle) and a sledge hammer, which were tied together and thrown across his shoulder. He was not in a hurry and the trip of ten miles was made in about four hours. He went to the door, as John had done, but it couldn't be opened. All was silent. As Brown turned his head to look around, a shot rang out; the bullet glanced off the iron griddle and went into the door. He saw the blaze from the mow of the barn, nothing more. A second shot was fired; the ball cut Brown's cheek and the lower part of his ear and also crashed into the door. As the smoke cleared away, Brown could see a figure looking from the barn. They were the figure and face of Robert McConaughy, Brown declared, "You damned rascal! What are you doing there?" Brown ran to the rear of the barn, but nobody could be seen. He searched the barn. In the mow he found the door handles and his two rifles. He took the door handle and went into the house for some lead, but there was none there as it had been taken by McConaughy. Brown ran from the house and soon located some neighbors, Lewis Brothers, John Rinker, John Taylor and William Atherton, who were chopping in a nearby orchard. He told them how he had been shot and his son John murdered. At the time he assumed the rest of his family had gone away. Taylor went with him to the house where they made a general survey of the premises. They returned to the bedroom. Taylor saw blood on the headboard of the bed and on the partition above. He asked, do you think there is somebody in the bed? Brown pulled down the quilt and saw his wife, dead and bloody. The man broke into tears, saying he did not know what he had done to have his family killed off so. People started gathering, and a justice of the peace, Randall Alexander came and organized an inquest. At first the suspicions were on Brown; it was thought that his wound was self-inflicted to remove suspicion from himself. The children had not yet been found but all fingers were being pointed at Brown. Brown was held overnight, but the testimony of persons who had seen him on his walk from Matilda Furnace compelled his release. McConaughy had eluded Brown after shooting at him. He appeared at 7 p.m. on the east side of Clear Ridge n Hare's Valley. Those who saw him, said he was in a big hurry but whistling, wearing a clean shirt and with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He spent the night at the home of his mother. Several days later McConaughy and his family were called before the inquest. The only account of his whereabouts he could give, was that he spent the day in Hare's Valley looking for a house. But he could not give the name of one person who had seen him. He said his wife wanted to move out of fear of her father. He changed the story several times and his hands were examined by a physician. Blood was clearly visible under his fingernail. Soap and water had failed to take it off. McConaughy repeatedly and persistently denied his guilt. His trial in Huntingdon County Court in August was one of the most notable trials of the day. The direct testimony of Brown and the circumstances brought a speedy verdict of guilty. It was shown that McConaughy was the only person with a motive for the crime; that he sought, created and possessed the opportunity to commit it; that he prepared for its perpetration' gave nor reasonable account of his whereabouts' that no other person could have committed it' and that his fingers bore un-mistakeable evidence of his guilt. He was found guilty of murder in the first degree. McConaughy had perceived that he could not be hanged unless he confessed. He continued to assert his innocence. In the last conversation he had with the two clergymen who attended him, he denied his guilt and afterward evaded the subject. On the day of his execution, November 6, 1840, he asked the clergymen to pray for him. When the services on the scaffold were concluded and the drop fell, instead of being rushed into eternity, the rope broke and he fell, landing on his feet and falling backward to the ground. His hopes were revived and he said he ought to be free. But the Sheriff returned him to the scaffold the rope was doubled and again put around his neck. Realizing that the hanging was to be a reality, he asked for some time to speak to the ministers. He agreed to make a complete confession of the crime. "I want you," he exclaimed, to make the best you can of my confession for my poor wife and children." The confession was made and recorded, the drop fell again, a half minute after 3 o'clock, and this time the penalty was paid.