The Widow Who Married Her Late Husband’s Slave: A Savannah Mystery

The Scandal Begins

Welcome to one of the most unsettling stories ever recorded in Savannah, Georgia. The year was 1839, a time when Savannah was still known as the “Jewel of the South.” Its streets were lined with oak trees heavy with Spanish moss, their shadows stretching across cobblestone paths. The warm, damp air carried rumors that moved from the grand mansions on Abercorn Street to the servant quarters hidden behind them.

It all started with a small notice in the Savannah Morning Republican on April 3rd, 1839. It was a short announcement, easy to miss: a marriage license was issued to widow Elizabeth Thornton, age 42, and James Bennett, age 26.

What the paper didn’t mention was that James Bennett had, until recently, been considered property—not a person—on the Thornton plantation. The scandal that followed would tear apart not only the Thornton family but would also uncover secrets long buried beneath the surface of Savannah’s polite society.

Background of a Forbidden Union

Elizabeth Thornton, born Elizabeth Montgomery, came from one of Georgia’s oldest and wealthiest families. Her grandfather had arrived in the colony in 1733 with General Oglethorpe himself. Over generations, the Montgomerys grew rich from their rice plantations along the Savannah River—wealth earned through the labor of hundreds of enslaved people. Elizabeth was raised in comfort within the family’s grand three-story home on Reynolds Square.

Parish records from Christ Church Episcopal show that she married at 17 to Richard Thornton, a widower 28 years her senior, who owned a large cotton plantation just outside the city. Their marriage united two of Georgia’s most powerful families. Richard’s first wife had died during childbirth, leaving behind a young son, William, who was only five years younger than his new stepmother.

According to the journal of Mary Benni, a cousin who visited the plantation in the summer of 1826, the Thornton household was run with quiet precision. Mary wrote that Elizabeth seemed delicate but ruled her home firmly, keeping strict order among the servants. Richard spoke little at meals, and when he did, a strange silence always followed. Those who knew the family said Richard was often away on business trips to Charleston or Augusta, leaving Elizabeth in charge of the estate.

Few people realized how much time she spent with a house servant named Grace. Grace had arrived in 1822, purchased from a trader in Charleston. She was not alone; she had come with her young son, a boy of nine named James.

The Rise of James Bennett

By 1835, tax documents from Chatham County listed 47 enslaved individuals on the Thornton plantation. Among them, James Bennett was noted as a house servant, one of only four with that title. Most others worked in the fields, their names reduced to numbers in inventory books. But James’s name appeared often in household accounts: first as “Grace’s boy,” then as simply “James,” and finally as “James Bennett.” The addition of a surname was rare and has puzzled historians for generations.

Dr. Ellen Hammond, who studied the Thornton Papers in 1963 before they mysteriously vanished from the Georgia Historical Society archives, noted that James was taught to read and write—an extraordinary fact for someone in his position. In her manuscript, Whispers from Reynolds Square, Hammond wrote that ledgers showed purchases of books, slates, and pencils specifically for “J.B.’s instruction.”

When Richard Thornton died in the yellow fever outbreak of 1836, his will left everything to Elizabeth and granted his son William a large inheritance. One clause stood out: “The servant James Bennett shall remain in the employ of my wife and shall not be sold or transferred under any circumstances.” Years later, this detail would become central to legal debates when the scandal erupted.

A Shift in Dynamics

Elizabeth observed exactly one year of mourning before appearing again in public. Neighbors noted that the estate continued running smoothly despite the master’s death. During this time, witnesses began to notice things that raised suspicion. Margaret Habsham, a neighbor, later told investigators that she had seen Elizabeth and James walking together in the garden, looking like companions rather than mistress and servant.

A former kitchen maid, Sarah Johnson, testified that she once entered the study without knocking and found them standing close together. James quickly pulled his hand away from Elizabeth’s arm. “They jumped apart like they’d been burned,” she said. “Mrs. Thornton sent me away quick, but her face was red like I’d never seen before.”

Seasons passed—winter to spring, spring to summer—and the house grew quieter. Elizabeth stopped attending social events. Her cousin Thomas Montgomery wrote in a letter that he visited her in early 1838 and found her changed: distracted, oddly cheerful, and dressed more simply than usual. He noted that James served them tea, and Elizabeth spoke to him with a familiarity that unsettled him. He wrote, “She said she had never felt more alive. There was something in her eyes I did not recognize, something that looked like secret joy.”

The Confrontation and Escape

A series of urgent letters between William Thornton and his uncle, Judge Henry Thornton, began soon after. William wrote in December 1838 that he had received troubling reports about his stepmother’s behavior and planned to visit the plantation unannounced. Judge Henry replied, urging caution, but warned that there had been “whispers in certain circles” and that it would be wise to handle this privately before it became a public scandal.

William arrived at the plantation on January 15th, 1839, during a cold rain. The next morning, the sheriff was summoned after what reports called a “disturbance of serious nature.” What happened that night was never fully recorded. All that is known is that William left before dawn and went directly to the sheriff’s office. By noon, James Bennett had been arrested on charges that were later dismissed. Elizabeth was not arrested but was quietly told by church leaders to refrain from attending services for a period of reflection.

Six weeks later, silence turned to shock. The Savannah Morning Republican published the new notice: the marriage of Elizabeth Thornton and James Bennett.

Somehow, Elizabeth had obtained legal freedom papers for James, and in an act of defiance, she married him in a private ceremony conducted by Reverend John Baker, a Methodist minister known for his abolitionist views. The ceremony took place not in a church, but inside the Thornton home, witnessed only by Grace (James’s mother) and a visiting lawyer from Philadelphia named Samuel Cooper. Records show Cooper stayed two nights in Savannah before traveling north, never returning to Georgia.

The Public Reaction and Disappearance

The reaction to the marriage was immediate and brutal. The Savannah City Council held an emergency session on April 5th, 1839, to address what they called a “moral crisis threatening the structure of our society.” William Thornton filed a petition declaring his stepmother mentally unfit and sought to take control of the estate. The Montgomery family publicly disowned Elizabeth, printing notices in newspapers across Georgia and South Carolina that she was no longer recognized as kin.

Much of what followed has been pieced together from scattered accounts because many official records were deliberately destroyed. A letter found in 1954 during renovations of an old home on Broughton Street described what happened next. Written by someone who called himself a “witness to infamy,” it told how 12 men rode to the Thornton plantation on the night of April 10th. They surrounded the house carrying torches and demanded that Bennett come out to face justice.

But it was the widow who appeared on the porch holding a shotgun. She said only, “This is my home and my choice. Leave now or face what comes.” Her words and the look in her eyes made even the angriest among them hesitate. The men withdrew that night but returned two days later with the sheriff.

They found the house deserted. Furniture was covered with sheets as though everything had been packed away carefully, not abandoned in haste. In one small room off the library—once James’s study—there was nothing left at all. Not a single paper, book, or note. Sarah Johnson, the former maid, later said that Elizabeth had taught James to read and write there, and that they had spent many evenings in that room together. “They cleared it out completely,” she said. “Not a thing left to show what had happened there all those years.”

The Great Savannah Mystery

The disappearance of Elizabeth Thornton and James Bennett launched what newspapers of the time called the “Great Savannah Mystery.” Rewards were offered, and rumors spread across Georgia. Some said they fled north with the help of abolitionists; others whispered they were lost at sea; a few believed they still haunted the old plantation. No proof ever surfaced.

It was carefully described as the largest search for missing persons in Chatham County’s history. Ports were guarded, roads were checked, and nearby states were notified. William Thornton even brought in private detectives from as far away as New York. Yet, despite all these efforts, no confirmed sighting was ever made.

Still, rumors began to spread. A train station worker in Charleston said he had seen a white woman and a well-dressed black man boarding a northbound train. A ship captain in Wilmington, Delaware, told officials he had carried a mixed-race couple to Boston. Later that summer, a banker in Montreal, Canada, reported that a woman resembling Elizabeth had tried to withdraw money using papers from the Philadelphia lawyer, Samuel Cooper.

As time passed and no answers came, the scandal slowly turned into a whispered warning told quietly to young women of good families. The Thornton estate fell into ruin. William Thornton sold it to a family from Virginia and never returned.

Uncovering the Truth: The Journal and The Letters

The investigation might have ended there, forgotten as an unsolved mystery, if not for discoveries made years later.

In 1844, workers fixing the old Thornton house found a leather-bound journal hidden under the floorboards. It was handed to Judge Henry Thornton, who reportedly read it all at once before locking it away. Three weeks later, the judge died from apoplexy (a sudden stroke). His widow claimed to have burned the book, but the judge’s clerk, Thomas Wilberforce, had secretly copied passages.

Wilberforce eventually moved to Boston and shared the notes with a Harvard researcher in 1861. The notes revealed Elizabeth’s growing interest in James, starting from 1822. She wrote of his intelligence and her decision to teach him to read. By 1835, her entries became romantic: “We spoke of poetry today. As he recited Byron, I no longer saw the boy I once taught, but the man he has become.”

After Richard’s death, the entries confirmed their relationship: “Later we stopped pretending. When the house is quiet… he comes to the library… He understands my heart more than anyone ever has.” The final entry outlined their escape plan involving Samuel Cooper and safe houses in the North.

In 1972, renovations in Schenectady, New York, revealed letters written by Grace, James’s mother, addressed to “Mrs. Jane Bennett.” These letters suggested Grace had also escaped or maintained a secret communication network. Furthermore, Samuel Cooper’s account books, found in 1959, listed payments for a “T&B package” delivered to Montreal—evidence of a carefully funded escape.

Life in Montreal

Evidence suggests Elizabeth and James built a new life in Montreal under the names “Jane and James Bennett.” Records show a James Bennett established an import business for teas and spices. They lived in a diverse neighborhood, attended a Methodist church, and were described by an employee, Marie Leblanc, as a devoted couple.

Marie’s diary recounted a moment when a customer asked if Madame Bennett was of European descent. James Bennett replied, “My wife and I have found Montreal asks fewer questions, which is exactly why we chose it.”

Fearing exposure, they eventually sold their business in 1849 and moved to St. Henri. James likely died of pneumonia around 1849. Elizabeth (Jane Bennett) lived until 1869, passing away at age 72. She left her property to a “Grace Bennett,” likely a granddaughter born in Canada.

The Legacy

In 1963, Dr. Ellen Hammond traveled to Montreal to find the graves of the Bennetts. She claimed to have made a discovery that would change Georgia’s history, but her notes vanished, and she was found in a state of amnesia days later.

However, in 1969, an elderly woman with light brown skin visited the Georgia Historical Society. She examined the Thornton records and the few artifacts found at the plantation (a cameo and a pressed camellia). Before leaving, she told the archivist: “Some stories are better left untold, but that doesn’t make them any less true.”

Today, the story of Elizabeth Thornton and James Bennett remains one of Savannah’s most haunting chapters—not because of ghosts, but because it questioned the very structure of the society they lived in. It is a testament to the endurance of human connection and the refusal of love to obey the rules society builds around it.