Leaving my agent in Tamaqua, a victim of three-fold suspense, I must now attempt to describe a double murder, perpetrated by the Mollie Maguires at Raven Run, near Ashland, Wednesday, the first of September, 1875, a little more than two weeks later than the killing of Gomer James and Squire Gwyther. The plain facts are here collected, as given by the detectives, from sources which are deemed reliable.
As Hiram Beninger, a carpenter connected with the colliery, was passing from his house to the breaker, at about six o'clock in the morning of the day mentioned, he noticed two men, apparently strangers, sitting on some car sills not far from the carpenter shop. One wore a soft hat and the other a cap with a brvelvet band. Both had their coat collars turned up as if to protect them from the chilling wind, and 434their positions on the timbers were those of mere listlessness, as though waiting for the arrival of the working boss. It was a common occurrence to see parties thus early on the ground to make application for employment, and Beninger paid no attention to these. But for circumstances immediately following, possibly he might never have thought of them again.
John Nicolls, this same clear cool morning in September and at about the same hour, was walking on the Mammoth Colliery r or the path leading to that colliery, when he discovered three men, also seemingly new to the neighborhood, resting themselves on the trucks with which coal is elevated from the shaft or plane. One of the fresh arrivals spoke pleasantly to Nicolls, saying, "Good-morning!" in a low tone of voice, and, as a man naturally would, Nicolls politely returned the salutation. After passing these three persons, Nicolls noticed two others, sitting just where the carpenter had found them, and Nicolls walked within a yard of their locality. One of the last-named persons, he remembered, wore a light-colored soft hat and brown coat, and looked closely in his face as he was going by. The other had on the velvet cap noticed by Beninger. The first, a light-complexioned, heavily-built man, spoke to Nicolls, saying: "You are going early to your work!" Nicolls answered: "Yes; rather early!" and went on his way. He recalled nothing particularly suspicious in the circumstance, excepting, as he subsequently remarked, the man having the cap pulled its visor down over his eyes. Mr. Nicolls only saw five men, concluded in his mind that they were travelers, probably seeking work, and but for subsequent events would soon have forgotten them altogether.
Ten or fifteen minutes afterward Thomas Sanger, a boss in Heaton Co.'s Colliery, started from his home for the scene of his daily labor, taking tender leave of his wife at their garden gate, accompanied by Wm. Uren, who boarded 435in his family and was also employed at the same mining works. Both bore their dinner-cans in their hands.
Sanger was a man greatly respected by his neighbors, about thirty-three years of age, and, while he had always been firm in his purpose, and true to his employers, had failed to make any enemies, excepting among the Mollies. He had, in his time, been duly threatened, but more recently believed the anger of his organized enemies was buried, forgotten, or appeased. But it proved a great mistake. Their murderous desires only slept.
Sanger and his companion, who was a miner, had not gone far when they were fired upon and both mortally wounded by the same strange men noticed by the carpenter and Mr. Nicolls. Beninger heard the shots, and rushing out, saw Robert Heaton, one of the proprietors of the colliery, firing his pistol at and running after two of the murderers. He heard "Red" Nick Purcell call for a gun. Two of the five assassins just then stopped in their retreat and began discharging their revolvers at Heaton, but he was not hit, and, holding boldly his ground, continued using his weapon, apparently without effect. Then all of the strange men turned and ran quickly up the mountain. Heaton followed as fast as he could, and when he had gained a little on them, stopped, and resting his pistol on a stump, to get steadier aim, continued to shoot. Still none were wounded. At least they did not slacken their speed, but made rapidly for the heavier timber and soon disappeared. Mr. Nicolls saw the same sight. It may be said, to his credit, that Heaton never withdrew from the unequal chase until his cartridges were exhausted and the men beyond range of his bullets. Had any of the several other witnesses of the deed been prepared, and followed the example of Heaton, the gang of assassins would have been killed or captured. As it was, they were not further pursued at the moment, and got away before reason prevailed and preparations were 436made for going on their trail. Then it was too late. The game was out of even rifle range.
After Sanger received his wound he was taken to the house of a neighbor, named Wheevil, where every attention was given him. Wm. Uren, who was also bleeding freely, was removed to the same residence. The surgeons were sent for, and Mrs. Sanger soon came in. Sanger lived but a little while. When his wife entered the room he said, in a faltering voice: "Sarah, come and kiss me! I am dying!" involuntarily echoing Yost's exclamation under similar circumstances. Neither of the wounded men retained consciousness long enough to give any coherent description of the manner in which they had been met, but there were witnesses in plenty, workmen going to their labor and others, who had seen the entire transaction.
Sanger had been three years with Heaton Co., and always performed his duty faithfully. He had received two gunshot wounds, one through the right forearm, and the other in the groin, the last severing the femoral artery. There was no gleam of hope for him. He bled to death in a few minutes. Dr. A. B. Sherman, assisted by Doctors Yocum and Yeomans, of Ashland, did everything in the power of man, but without avail. Death was inevitable from the locality and extent of the hurt.
Uren was shot in the right groin, in about the same place as Sanger, an important artery in his leg being injured. He remained in a sort of stupor until death ensued, the next day.
"'Don't stop for me, Bob, but give it to them!'"
Heaton was eating his breakfast when he heard the firing, and at once his mind reverted to the men he had seen sitting by the carpenter shop. There was something peculiar in their posture, and in the fact of their hats being over their eyes, and coat collars turned up. Believing they were the cause of the trouble, he seized his revolver and ran out. The first thing he encountered was Thomas Sanger, wounded, lying on the ground by a stump, near the house, bleeding 437freely, where the murderers had left him; still Sanger said: "Don't stop for me, Bob, but give it to them!" Heaton caught sight of the departing assassins, and, as before related, opened fire upon them, but without effect. He had a fair view of one of the persons, when he turned on his heel and fired back at him. But Mrs. Williams, a neighbor of Heaton, had a better opportunity to judge of the same man. Her young son, when he heard the shooting, was very anxious to go out and join in Heaton's attempt to capture or kill the assassins. He desired to do just what the others should have done, but did not do, and his mother, naturally fearful harm might come to him, had, with the assistance of her daughter, dragged the lad back into the room after he had reached the entrance, which was open. She threw her arms around him and effectually barred his progress. Then the murderer of Sanger—having brought the boss down, as he ran for the protecting building, and even stopping to turn him over on his back and deliberately fire a second shot into his quivering and bleeding body—with smoking pistol still in hand, passed Mrs. Williams' door. While engaged in preventing her son's exit, her mind filled with horror from what had already happened, and dread of that which she thought might occur, she noted each feature of the murderer's face and every peculiarity of his form, as, with head raised and defiant air, he swung his weapon over his head, walked rapidly by her door and up the r She said she could never forget that man. His likeness haunted her, waking and sleeping, for many nights, and she furnished her neighbors with a description which was afterwards very valuable.
. . . . . . . . .
The two men who had accompanied McKenna to Tamaqua, quite unfit for duty when they reached their destination, were put to bed at Carroll's—which place they had approached by three several routes, by previous arrangement not having spoken together on the car—very soon after their 438arrival. Drink had quite overpowered them. This left the agent at liberty to walk about and think over the predicament he was in. His nerves were not particularly braced up by the perusal of a savage article in the Shenandoah Herald, recommending the formation by the citizens of a vigilance committee, which should summarily rid the country of the Mollie Maguires. He thought that such an organization was the one thing needful to render his position quite unendurable. His Mollie friends merely laughed at it. They said: "Let the committee be appointed! If it is, we will then spare neither women, old men, nor children! It will be war to the knife, and the knife to the throat!"
This was anything but cheerful talk for the Shenandoah Secretary, but he was forced to acquiesce in it, however much his heart misgave him. He well knew that it would be a modern miracle, if such a combination was entered into, should he fail in becoming its first victim. No Mollie Maguire was better known. No Mollie was suspected of having committed more crimes, and, meanwhile, he was perfectly innocent. McKenna certainly did not favor a vigilance committee. On the contrary, he was zealously opposed to anything of the sort. While thinking over these unpleasant things the operative inquired of Carroll where Kerrigan was. He pretended he did not know. Under these circumstances it occurred to the agent that it was his duty to send the men, brought there to perform a murder, directly back to their homes. In the afternoon he did so, informing them that he had been unable to find Kerrigan, which was true, and probably the Jones job had been postponed, which he did not know to be the fact, but which he hoped might be so. No sooner were his parties off for Shenandoah than McKenna set about a plan for putting Linden and his men in the bush about Jones' house, proposing to be near himself and see that the boss was not hurt. After failing to find Linden or Kerrigan, he went to Carroll's, 439the hour being about ten at night, and luckily the saloon-keeper was alone.
"Were the men you had here to go to Old Mines?" asked Carroll.
"Yes! But as I couldn't run across Kerrigan, they have been sent home! I can get them again by merely telegraphing McAndrew to 'send me over a game chicken!' That's the signal agreed upon. Where is that fellow, Kerrigan, anyhow? Sure, you ought to know!"
"I'll tell you, McKenna," whispered Carroll. "He has been off since Wednesday, wid two men from Mt. Laffee, an' I'm after thinkin' that, before this time, all is over in that case! The fellows came here wid a letther from Jerry Kane, an' gave it to me, an' I jist kept them inside until Kerrigan got in, which was about nine at night, an' they all left. It wur Mike Doyle and Ed Kelly that went wid Kerrigan. They brought no arms along, so if they wur arrested nothing would be found on them! Campbell has plenty of pistols."
Here the saloon-keeper had to attend to the wants of a customer and McKenna, completely bewildered, walked out of the place and over to his hotel. What was he to do? The probability was that Kerrigan and his men had shot Jones that very morning. Where should he find Linden? How should he act? After calm reflection he determined that he could do nothing. If Jones had been killed, it was not possible to aid him. Everything had been done that his inventive mind suggested to notify and guard the man. McKenna therefore took the cars and returned, heart-sick and despondent, to Shenandoah.
Linden's duty had called him elsewhere, and hence he cannot be held at all responsible for a job he thought amply provided for. Still in doubt about Jones' fate, it was at Muff Lawler's house that the operative learned the result of the expedition by Friday O'Donnell and his men to Raven Run. 440They regained the outskirts of Shenandoah at about eight o'clock, the morning of the murder, and the crowd, consisting of Mike Doyle, Friday and Chas. O'Donnell, Thos. Munley, and Chas. McAllister, entered the house, one by one, and each was made quickly comfortable.
Chas. McAllister lived with the O'Donnells at Wiggan's Patch, and was married to their sister.
The entire company were covered with dust and perspiration and expressed themselves as very thirsty. They certainly drank a great quantity of water, for men whose usual beverage was something stronger, and seemed recently to have traveled far and fast. Friday O'Donnell made no secret of the scene all were freshly from, and boasted that they had made a clean sweep of it, and, while it was the intention only to take off Sanger, they had killed another man, supposed to be a miner. He did not know but they had hurt others.
Chas. McAllister exhibited to McKenna a navy revolver, and said that Chas. O'Donnell carried one of the same size. Doyle wore the Smith Wesson he had previously seen, and Friday O'Donnell had two pistols. In Lawler's back kitchen, that morning, they talked over the murder for an hour, saying they had all traded clothing before the shooting, and, after finishing, sed back again. Each murderer took part in the conversation, and related, in his own way, the share he had taken in the assassination. Their reports were not particularly at variance with the facts as set forth in this chapter, and hence the reader's mind, already sickened with relation of violence and bloodshed, need not be further harrowed up by their repetition here.
But what were McKenna's feelings at this period? To say that he was exceedingly anxious, is a very weak expression in which to convey the mental experiences of that eventful day. With what patience he could command, he awaited information of Kerrigan's work at Lansford.
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