I was born in the year eighteen hundred and eleven in the town of Freeport, Cumberland county, Maine, of temperate, moral, and honest parents, who were kind, tender, and loving towards me, their unworthy son. Instead of adding comfort to their venerable years, I brought grief and sorrow to their heart, and disgrace to their gray heads. I lived with my father until I became nineteen years old, when I left home in consequence of my father’s contrary disposition, which I then thought I had much reason to complain of; but alas, to my sorrow, I since became sensible of my error, but too late. An uncontrollable desire to leave home seized me, I despised my father’s counsel, and strolled about from place to place associating myself with idle and dissipated company and by this means soon became one of the most idle and dissolute wretches in existence. In this manner I roved about, and finally went to Philadelphia. Here I fell in with a young man whose name was Hunt, a low gambling sort of a fellow. We agreed to join companionship and share equally in whatever we could make. We then kept a good look out. Whenever we discovered a man intoxicated after dark, or any we thought it possible to make so, we enticed him in to some dark alley, or other secret hiding place, and robbed him of what money, watches, or other valuables he happened to have with him. Some time late in January, we robbed a traveller on the Wilmington road, about five miles from the city. We rushed upon him, endeavoring to knock him down, but the blow missing its aim, he made a desperate resistance, nearly overpowering us, when, drawing a large knife which I always carried with me, I stabbed him in the back, when he fell, exclaiming, “I am murdered.” We then robbed him of four hundred dollars. Seeing an account of the murder, two days after, in the papers, and that the Mayor had offered a thousand dollars reward, I feared my companion might turn State’s evidence, and I should suffer; I determined to leave for New Orlines, or some southern city, as I had plenty of money, but I only reached Baltimore, when I was induced to stop. I then dressed up pretty fine, intending to play the gentleman. I here became acquainted with a very pretty young lady, whose name was Eliza Morton, whose father was a respectable merchant of that city. She received my addresses very cordially for some time, but at length began to suspect that I was not exactly what I pretended to be, and grew daily more cold and reserved in my presence. I then tried to persuade her to elope with me, but this she at once refused to do, declaring that she would never marry against the will of her parents. Finding that I could not induce her to accede to my plans, I then determined upon her ruin. 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 home, 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, that so enraged me that I caught up a towel which was hanging up and tried to force it into her mouth. I then twisted it around her neck, choking her until she was insensible, I then proceeded to accomplish my hellish purpose, and knowing that if she should recover she would immediately expose me, I therefore resolved on 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 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 the choice, suffer twenty mortal deaths, such as she did, then again enter into the like feeling which I have suffered. But I am about to be released. But if you who hear me could but conceive the slightest idea of the sufferings 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 deserve the fate that awaits me.
He then faltered back, faintish and silent. The above named Eliza Morton was murdered on the twenty-second of June, 1833, as we ascertained from the coroner’s books, and from her bereaved parents, whom he left to sigh after their only daughter.
Ann’s cruelty and atrocity at this time reached to a mature age, for she was enveloped in innocent blood, and it seems almost impossible that such crimes could possibly be committed by one of such tender looking countenance as she possessed even at the bar.
Such a course continued quite smoothly for four years. On one occasion, an intended victim had a child about eighteen months old, sometimes subject to fits. In these fits the child would scream in a most horrible manner. It happened to have one of these fits while in Ann Walters’ house. She was so enraged upon hearing its cries, that she flew at the child, tearing the clothes from off the victim of her wrath, biting it at the same time in the most dreadful manner, and as if this was not enough to satisfy her brutal disposition, the child still continuing to scream, she caught it up and held it with her own hands to the fire, until its face was burned to a cinder. She then threw it in a cave in the cellar.
Shortly after this, a gentleman was travelling through that section of the country, where he owned a grist mill.
On his return he stopped at her house. She ascertained that he had considerable money, and seemed anxious to get home, but she determined this should never happen, and while he was at breakfast she came behind him, and plunged a large dagger into his heart. He fell, and then expired. Two of her accomplices, Griffin and Brown, were sent for but did not arrive in season. Being anxious to secure the prize she attempted and accomplished the murder herself, without any assistance. She robbed him of seven hundred dollars, took his body in a small boat and threw it into the river, with a stone attached to it, to prevent it from rising.
Soon after, we believe in April 1840, a slave dealer who was on his way from Wilmington, Del., to Norfolk, Va., with two valuable slaves, was overtaken by a heavy rain, and obliged to put up at her house for the night. She put him to sleep in a room separate from the main part of the house, and during the night, she entered a secret way with one of her gang, armed with a large club prepared for the purpose, and finding him asleep, they tied him to the bed and passed a cord around his neck to prevent his breathing.
They then robbed him of four thousand dollars with a watch worth one hundred and twenty dollars. The body was buried in the garden, under a clump of rose bushes.
She concealed the slaves for upwards of a week, barely giving them enough to support nature, until she sold them to a slaver who happened to be on the coast.
Soon after this, she murdered a negro boy, of twelve years of age, who was for some time previous in her house, in the capacity of waiter or servant, because he accidentally saw her perpetrate the deed of burning the child, and one day, when angry, said he would discover her. But she resolved like the pirate, that the dead tell no tales, and immediately ordered him down to the cellar to regulate something there, then taking with her a large knife, she followed him in person, and drove it through his body while stooping. She then dragged him over, and threw his lifeless body amongst the skeletons.