My father visited us twice, in 1862 and 1869. He met his grandchildren, saw our house, our business, our life. He saw that we were happy, that his radical solution had worked better than expected. He died in 1870, leaving his inheritance to my cousin Robert, as required by Virginia law. But he did leave me a letter.
“My dearest Elellanar, by the time you read these words, I will no longer be here. I want you to know that trusting Josiah was the wisest decision I ever made. I thought I was protecting you, but I didn’t realize I was giving you love. You were never indestructible. Society was too blind to see your worth. Thank God, Josiah wasn’t. Live well, my daughter. Be happy. You deserve it. With love, Father.”
Josiah and I lived together in Philadelphia for 38 years. We grew old together, watched our children grow up, welcomed our grandchildren, and built a legacy from the impossible situation we found ourselves in.
I died on March 15, 1895, exactly 38 years after leaving Virginia. Pneumonia quickly overcame me; my last words to Josiah, as he held my hand, were: “Thank you for seeing me, for loving me, for healing me.”
Josiah died the next day, March 16, 1895. The doctor said his heart had simply stopped, but our children knew the truth. He couldn’t live without me, just as I couldn’t live without him. We were buried together in Philadelphia’s Eden Cemetery, under a shared headstone that reads: Ellaner and Josiah Freeman. Married 1857, died 1895. A love that defied the impossible.
Our five children all had successful lives. Thomas became a doctor. William became a lawyer and fought for civil rights. Margaret became a teacher and educated thousands of Black children. James became an engineer and designed buildings throughout Philadelphia. Elizabeth became a writer.
In 1920, Elizabeth published the book “My Mother, the Beast, and the Love That Changed Everything.” It told our story: that of a white woman deemed unfit for marriage and that of an enslaved man, whom the society of enslaved men considered a mere legend. And how the radical solution of a desperate father gave rise to one of the most beautiful love stories of the 19th century.
Historical records bear witness to everything. Josiah’s freedom papers, his marriage certificate, the founding of Freeman’s Forge in Philadelphia in 1857, our five children—all documented in Philadelphia birth records—my improved mobility thanks to orthotic devices, documented in personal letters. We both died in March 1895, just one day apart, and were buried in Eden Cemetery. Elizabeth’s book, published in 1920, became an important historical document on interracial marriage and disability in the 19th century. The Freeman family preserved detailed records, including Colonel Whitmore’s letters and Josiah’s freedom papers, which were donated to the Pennsylvania Historical Society in 1965. Our story has been studied as an example of both the history of disability rights and the history of interracial relations during the era of slavery.
This is the story of Elellanar Whitmore and Josiah Freeman. A woman deemed unfit for marriage by society because of her wheelchair. A man considered a brute by society because of his size. And the unprecedented decision of a desperate father who gave them both everything they needed: freedom, love, and a future no one thought possible.
Twelve men rejected Elellanor before her father made the extraordinary decision to marry her to a slave. But beneath Josiah’s imposing exterior hid a kind and intelligent man, who secretly read Shakespeare and treated Elellanor with more respect than any free man.
Their story defies everything: prejudices about disability, race, and what makes someone worthy of love. Elellanar wasn’t “broken” because her legs didn’t work. She was bright, capable, and strong. Josiah wasn’t a brute because of his size. He was poetic, thoughtful, and extraordinarily kind.
And Colonel Whitmore’s decision, shocking as it was, demonstrated a radical understanding that his daughter needed love and respect more than social approval. He freed Josiah, gave them money and connections, and sent them north to build the life Virginia would never allow them.
They lived together for 38 years, raised five successful children, built a thriving business, and died just one day apart because their love was so deep that neither of them could have survived without the other.
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