SETTLING DIFFERENCES BY LAW

“In addition to the sentence of death already pronounced upon you, your body, after execution shall be delivered to the President of the Medical Society of Orange County for dissection.”- Hon. William W. Van Ness The Report of the Trials of the Murderers of Richard  Jennings 

      As the Canadian anthropologist Diamond Jenness pointed out in the 1920’s, “The United States is inhabited at the present time by people of widely different physical types, ranging form the fair, blond haired descendants of Scandinavian immigrants to the blackest negroes; yet all alike employ the English language.” 

    We aliens are nothing if not an ongoing, English speaking, experiment with a conclusion yet to be determined. My historical curiosity will have to overcome my abhorrence to being related to many devious, deeply flawed, murderous characters. Like my father was fond of saying, “Fish and family will all stink after three days.”      

       

    It had taken the jury less than an hour to find David Dunning guilty. The date was Wednesday March 10, 1819. The next day Judge Van Ness called Jack Hodges back up to the bench to receive his warning, and a special addendum of medical dissection, to his sentence. Jack was shocked and terrified. He mistook this post-mortem instruction as the torture of being drawn and quartered…., and then hung….not an autopsy. It was a little confusing. “dissection” sounded very painful. There was good reason for Jack to worry. Creative tortures before executions were not without precedent in black America, and the word “after” could have been lost in the Judge’s reading. 

     When a small slave rebellion in New York City was quickly put down in 1712, the members of the uprising (who hadn’t opted for a quick suicide), were put to death in a variety of slow, mind-bogglingly horrific ways. One rebellious slave was torn apart on a wheel, while others were burned, beheaded, or drawn and quartered. All this ultra-torture was purposefully done to send a very clear message to anyone who wanted to organize against a master, or the institution of chattel-slavery. Dissent would not be tolerated. Oral history of these punishments had been passed down in the free and slave community for generations. Before the executions, and Jack’s corpus-dissection could take place, the convicted white men had one last (rather ridiculous), lawsuit to settle among them.

A short item appeared in the February 16, 1819 issue of the New York Spectator: 

  "The matter was the case of David Dunning and David Conklin. The particulars of the suit are unknown other than it involved money. The resolution of the litigation is not known. It seems a bit trivial that two men, both facing up coming trials for their lives, would be involved in such an action while confined in the dungeons of a jail."

  

David Conklin sworn

By Jonas Storey, esq.

Q. Has Dunning sued you?

A. He has sued me since I’ve been in jail and tried to injure me.

    Doing Richard Jennings, and all other overly litigious (empty briefcase) laymen in history, one better, David Dunning sued David Conklin over the previous summer’s wage, while both litigants awaited the hangman. Maybe Dunning wasn’t so dim. He knew it would be the last chance he, or wife Margaret, would have to get paid for anything that he’d ever done for Conklin— including murder. There’s no record of the case ever being settled.

     The Hon. William W. Van Ness was piously sagacious in his speech before the four condemned men in the packed courtroom. He recognized the gravity ascribed to the high profile, capital murder case, and wanted to be remembered for his wisdom, and even hand. There was no question as to what the punishment would be, “…..hung by the neck until…” Press from this case would raise the stock of the Judge, the lawyers, and especially Martin Van Buren. For Van Buren, the next step would be Washington, D.C. With all the judicial solemnity, you could detect a pronounced festive undercurrent in Orange County. The trials were over, and all involved congratulated themselves on a job well done. The villages of Sugar Loaf and Goshen could finally breath a collective sigh of relief. Civilization had prevailed. Now the path was clear. Let the executions commence!

     In the period from December 21, 1818 to March 10, 1819, a man had been murdered, a pregnant woman had been publicly castigated, while four convicted murderers, of varying races, and class distinctions, were sentenced to death, for the killing of a white man nobody really liked. Justice had been swift. This was progress. The framers would have been proud. The entire community was exhausted, and exhilarated. No one needed reminding anybody that it wasn’t over yet. The handling of the condemned now took on a ritualized sanctity. Everyone had given up on these bags of blood and bone on this mortal plain, but their immortal souls were still up for grabs. Press, pulpit, and townsfolk, elbowed each other for a better look at these fallen mortals, offering through smuggled drink and incessant prayer, a second chance at redemption.