ARISE YE DEAD

“The house that which has been heretofore dedicated to the ordinary business of your county, has now alas become the place of blood! Death is here! Already in her rapid course, within the compass of two weeks, has she added three victims to her empire. Within these walls she hovers over them with her black wings; you shall see them no more till that voice is heard, “Arise ye dead and come to judgement!” Jack, Teed and Conklin are among the slain. Will you not now say to the destroying angel, Hitherto shalt thou go, but no farther; and here shall thy proud victories be staid?”- Jonas Storey, esq. to the jury. The Report of The Trials of the Murderers of Richard Jennings

    Some Osterhouts and Jennings would live long lives and die peacefully, surrounded by loved ones, while others would be indicted for kidnapping, hung for murder, endure torture, be shotgunned on the couch, or die painfully; after watching their children scalped by Indians, and impaled on French Canadian swords. Our super-powers, vulnerabilities, talents, and racism, may have dissipated with time, but minor as we were in the overall scheme of things, we remained anything but bystanders. Osterhouts and Jennings crossed paths many times, long before my parents drifted off to bed, on a Tuesday night after a few drinks, during a slow deer season in 1951. “Tuesday night” was mom’s code for sex. My mother used to joke that the only reason she and my father got married was, “There weren’t enough Tuesdays in the week.” My roosters paid with their lives for that passed down weekly ritual.

      

      Jack sat quietly in his cell, after being called upon one last time in Dunning’s trial. Jonas Storey’s pleas for leniency for his client were extinguished by death’s flapping “black wings.” When Hodges heard Judge Van Ness declare Dunning guilty he was exhausted, physically, mentally, and spiritually. His spiritual drought was taking a toll. For the clergy it was a rush to the gallows’ steps. With all that clerical attention, Jack still felt abandoned. He hoped the reverends’ prayers would work, but sure wasn’t counting on it.  

      As soon as he was locked up Jack Hodges asked to see the Revs. Cadle and Fisk. The sailor instinctively knew the pastors’ real-world value. Initially, this was no more than a hope to avoid worse treatment at the gaol; maybe get a blanket and a bed, and not be lynched by the angry mob. These perks, and assurances, the clergy immediately provided. At the pastors’ urging, Jack took the high road, accepting all the guilt, and wishing the other conspirators complete acquittal. Was this heartfelt repentance, or a calculated ploy? Judge Van Ness’ warning to Jack of not “being induced to false statement” or “implicating persons not concerned,” seemed superfluous. The Judge specifically pointed out that no favors would be called in on Jack’s behalf by anyone on this plain…or the next. For who’s benefit was this? Jack had been accepting of his guilt, and cooperating with the prosecution from the very beginning. There was no need to reiterate his sentence, or remind Jack that death awaited.  

     Could there have been something extra driving Jack Hodges, to appear contrite, absolving the Teeds and Conklin of all responsibility, while expecting a quid pro quo? Hodges willingly put himself, (and Dunning) at the center of the murder, and then grasped the “milk white hands” of the pastors; trusting what? Recognizing how gullible he’d been by being manipulated into the murder, now Hodges was willing to exculpate the others of all responsibility, and happily meet death alone. It all seemed too pat. Was the church really an autonomous actor, only interested in saving souls, or was somebody pulling the strings behind those robes? Was there another conspiracy afoot?

     In the attic of the gaol, pregnant Hannah Teed sat on her filthy mattress, hormones raging, survival-guilt setting in, as she anticipated residing in that cold cell for the next thirty days; only to be let out in time to watch her husband, brother, neighbor, and lover be executed. Whosever baby it was kicking inside her, all possible candidates were about to be hanged. 

    Hannah remembered standing in church singing, one pew back, close enough for Dick Jennings to feel her breath on his neck; and had then gone home to Jack, the gun, and the jug. It was she who seduced Jack into the crime, not letting him wiggle out of it. That was her doing….her reality. She couldn’t escape it. It wasn’t Richard Jennings’ face that haunted her; it was the hairy back of the old man’s neck.