Posted by Morbidia on March 30, 1999 at 15:01:50:
A Hanging in Deadwood. Part III: To the Gallows
Nothing much happened for 12 days after I was condemned. I would wake
up, dress in one of the dresses that the banker's wife had donated when
my poor frock started to fall apart, was given breakfast, was taken out
for exercise in the yard behind the jail, knitted, sewed, was given
lunch, read the bible, knitted, sewed, was given dinner, took off the
dress, went to sleep. It was almost easy to convince myself that this
would go on forever. Suddenly that all changed.
I was doing my mid-morning knitting when the sheriff knocked on the
cell door to announce a visitor. I was surprised to see a teenage girl
wearing a gray frock dress with white polka dots. Many folks had wanted
to see "the woman who killed her husband and was going to hang," but
the sheriff had kept them all away and allowed only official visitors.
I couldn't conceive of why this girl was being allowed in. Still, it
seemed pleasant to see somebody who wasn't a man all puffed up in his
part in the town drama. The pleasantness didn't last.
Striding into my cell with a confidence that belied her age, she looked
me squarely in the eye and introduced herself as Barbanne. Then, she
began to look me up and down. Although I was annoyed at this brazenness
in a youngster, I was absolutely flabbergasted when she asked me to lie
down on the cot. I was about to call the sheriff to get her away from
me when she said in a soft voice, "Please Mrs. Coldfield. I've GOT to
do this. The town's paying me and it'd be lots easier if you just
cooperate."
As my annoyance turned to curiosity, I lay down on the cot. She asked
me to put my feet together and cross my arms over my chest. Even more
curious, I complied. Then she took a measuring tape from a pocket in
her frock and stretched it from above my head to my toes. She fished
out a slip of paper and a pencil stub to write the results. As she bent
over me to measure the width of my shoulders, I asked her what it was
that the town was paying her for.
"Why Mrs. Coldfield, didn't the sheriff tell you who I am?" she replied
with a serious air as she wrote more on the paper, "I run the funeral
parlor. A messenger came in last night. The Governor signed your death
warrant. The town's paying me for your funeral, so I have to measure
you to make sure you'll fit in the coffin I make. Thanks for being so
cooperative. I'll be going now."
As she walked out the door I began to shake. This had brought my
situation starkly home to me. She had been here on business, and the
business was my death. This routine would not last. A few more days and
I wouldn't be waking in this cell, I would be lying in the coffin that
she had just measured me for. I would be lying first in the funeral
parlor next door to the jail, and then lying in my grave.
As if to reinforce this thought, I heard the girl's voice shouting some
unintelligible instructions to somebody. A short while later, I could
here the sound of sawing and hammering. I wrapped the shawl that I had
knit around me as I rocked back and forth on my cot.
After a while I stopped shivering. While not exactly getting used to
the idea of being hanged, I don't think it's possible to get used to an
idea like that, I was a little more resigned to my fate.
The next morning while the deputies were escorting me back to my cell
after my morning exercise, the sheriff came up to me with a large man
dressed in a black suit behind him. They accompanied me all the way
back into the jail. When the cell door was opened and I went in, the
man in black followed me. As I looked up at him, he stuck out his hand
and said, "Mrs. Coldfield, I'm Jules Pratt."
I remembered the conversation in the office the night of my trial and
with my stomach knotting up replied, "So you're the hangman."
"I prefer to be called an executioner. I'm here to see that this is
done right and that you don't suffer. Please stand in the middle of the
cell here so that I can examine you. I assure you that I need to do
this."
Saying that, he walked around me while I stood still. When he was in
front of me again, he reached toward me and took my right wrist while
giving it a gentle squeeze. For a few moments he rolled my wrist
between his thumb and fingers. I felt a tiny jolt of something other
than fear course through me as he flexed my hand back and forth. When
he let go of my wrist, he said in a gentle voice, "Please stand up
straight with your arms at your sides while I check your neck and lift
you. I promise that I won't hurt you."
Trembling now, I stood to attention as he gently put his hands around
my neck. I stared into his eyes as his fingers felt along my jaw line.
With his thumbs under my chin, he delicately rocked my head to the left
and then the right. Before he let go, he felt along my throat in a
caress that sent chills through my whole body. He took his hands from
my neck and cocked his head to the side giving me the oddest look, sad
yet tender. Then, shrugging as though shaking off raindrops, he walked
behind me and circled my waist with his arms. Asking me to lean back
against him, he slowly lifted me off the floor. I could feel his erect
manhood pressing against my buttocks as my toes pointed down through
the air. Truth be told, I felt my body responding to his. We were both
red faced and breathing a little hard when he returned me to the
ground. He sat on the cot while motioning me to sit next to him.
"So Mr. Pratt. Do I pass whatever test that was?"
"Please, call me Jules Mrs. Coldfield."
"All right Jules, call me Annie. Did I pass whatever that was?"
"It wasn't really a test Mrs... um Annie. I needed to know your build
and about how heavy you are. Your wrists tell me your bone structure.
Flexing your hands tell me how supple your joints are. And lifting you,
well, lifting you tells me how heavy you are."
He was still breathing a little raggedly, so I asked, "And am I THAT
heavy, Jules?"
He gave a slight smile and said, "No mm... Annie. It's not that you're
heavy. But you ain't no slip of a thing either." At this his face
reddened a bit. "Actually, you're just perfect. I... I... felt
something when I touched you. I don't think you did it. I sure as Hell
don't think you should hang for something I don't think you did."
A million thoughts crossed my mind when he said that. Maybe I could
convince him to help me escape. Maybe I could convince him to fake the
hanging somehow and then we could ride off. God help me, I could lie
and cheat and maybe live. But another vision crossed my mind in the
opposite direction - Jacob's accusing look just before he went into his
final convulsion, Kathleen's surprised look as her life leaked out of
that bullet hole. And another voice, my own, echoed in my mind. I
actually liked this man. I was actually attracted to him as he was to
me. And I couldn't just lie to him even if he could get me out of this
somehow. No, I had to tell the truth.
"Jules. I did it. I poisoned my own husband, the man that I loved. I
was angry because he cheated on me. I was beyond angry. Furthermore,
whatever the jury might have said, I went to Kathleen Noxton's place
specifically to put a bullet in her head. If she hadn't had a shotgun
behind the door, she still would have died."
I expected that Jules would push me away and walk out. Instead, he put
his arm around my shoulders. I couldn't help myself, I leaned my head
against his chest and began to cry. He put his other hand to my face
and said, "Damn. I still don't want to hang you. I just want to kiss
you."
And he did just that. A long, slow, passionate kiss that made my body
heat up as I returned it. We embraced on that cot, a murderess and her
executioner. Maybe somebody would write a penny dreadful about it some
day. But my wry inner voice spoke again, telling me that what was
happening could never be. I placed the palms of my hands on his
shoulders and pushed him away. I looked in his eyes and told him so.
"Annie, I'll just walk away from this. Let the sheriff do it. The Hell
with it."
"Jules, you have to do it. They hired you because you know how. I hear
the people gathering. I hear the hucksters selling their wares. Come
Hell or high water, they'll hang me tomorrow. And the sheriff would let
me just strangle at the end of the rope to please the crowd if for no
other reason. So if you can do it so it don't hurt so much, then you do
it. At least when I step onto the gallows I'll know a last friendly
touch. I'm begging you, as a new-found friend, if I'm going to hang -
you hang me."
Jules' shoulders slumped. I could see that he was wrestling with his
own thoughts. I saw a few tears course down his cheeks. Then he
straightened his back and turned to me. With a sigh he took my hands in
his he said, "I'll do it. You won't suffer. I'll make sure."
At this point the sheriff walked in to ask, "You done Jules?"
Jules got off the cot and walked out with the sheriff. After the door
slammed shut, I could hear them talking as they walked away. The
sheriff asked Jules how he thought it would go. Masking his trepidation
with an overloud voice, Jules replied that I was the perfect type -
round head with a clean jaw line on a slender neck. If the crowd was
expecting a dance, they'd be a bit disappointed.
Later that day I heard the sounds of hammering. One hammer sounded
louder and faster than all the rest, almost as though the man who
wielded it was trying to kill the gallows rather than build it. As
evening approached, the hammering stopped. The silence lasted for a few
minutes, only to be replaced by a THUMP!!THUD!!Creak. After a few
moments the creaking stopped. Then again: THUMP!!THUD!!Creak. This
series of sounds was repeated three more times before the outside
became quiet again. As I listened, I realized that they had finished
the gallows and were testing it. When the silence stretched on, I
realized that the next thump would be the gallows floor opening under
my feet, that the next thud would be the sound of the rope halting my
fall, and that I would be the only one in town tomorrow who wouldn't
hear the creak of the wooden beam straining under my weight.
Oddly enough, I slept peacefully. My execution was set for nine in the
morning, late enough for the crowd to gather, early enough so that the
sun wasn't too hot yet. The sheriff came in around seven to ask me what
I wanted for breakfast. I told him that a cup of coffee would do me
fine, and that I probably wouldn't want anything for lunch either. It
sounded flat to me too.
When I had finished my coffee, Barbanne and the banker's wife were
ushered into my cell. The banker's wife was carrying a paper parcel
that she handed to me along with a note. I was a bit startled to be
getting something at this of all times. Then I read the note:
"We heard all about what's going to happen. I sold off your stock like
you asked, and there was money left over. I'm an honest merchant and
wouldn't take advantage of a situation like this. Hannah gave me the
idea to send for this from Abilene. We both hope that it stands you in
good stead. We'll pray for you. Aaron and Hannah Gardner."
Aaron Gardner, owner of Horizon's saloon barber shop general store. An
honest man indeed. I opened the package to find a white dress with
black piping around the collar, cuffs, and hem. Along with the dress
was a pair of black kidskin slippers - soft as gosling down. At least I
wouldn't have to hang looking like somebody's poor relation.
The girl and woman told me that they were there in case I needed help.
As I shrugged out of the faded frock I was wearing, I realized that my
fingers were trembling almost uncontrollably. They helped me into the
dress. Then they helped me sit down and braided my hair, tying it with
a black ribbon. The girl saw that my hands were beyond hope for doing
anything useful, so she told me to point my toes so she could put the
slippers on them.
And then the preparations were over. I tried to read from my little
bible, but my eyes wouldn't focus. It was all I could do to keep from
falling on the floor in a fit. The girl suddenly starting singing
"Amazing Grace" and I joined in along with the banker's wife. We sat
there singing hymns until the sheriff opened the cell door and said, "It's
time Annie."
Shakily I stood up. First I kissed the banker's wife on the cheek and
then the girl. Surprisingly, she kissed me back. Two deputies came in,
one taking each of my arms, and led me out of the cell. They began to
tug my arms behind my back when the girl shouted out, "You can't tie
her wrists behind her you idiots - she'll trip on her dress when she
tries to climb the stairs."
Abashed, the deputies stood back. I gathered as much courage as I
could, squared my shoulders, and said, "I'll be all right. Tie my hands
when we're... up there."
The sheriff nodded to the deputies who then simply took my arms to give
me some support. The girl and the woman walked out of the cell area,
the girl looking back over her shoulder to give me an almost wistful
gaze. The sheriff turned his back to me, began to walk at a sedate
pace, and motioned for me and the deputies to follow him.
For the first time since my trial, I walked out the front of the jail
door instead of the back. The sun blinded my eyes for a moment, but
when they had adjusted I could see a huge crowd of people, all staring
at us, at me. The crowd gave a low roar when they realized that I was
the person they had been waiting for. Directly in front of me were the
stairs leading up to the gallows. They had built the thing so that we
could walk in a straight line from the jail door to the steps. A group
of deputies kept that short avenue clear.
I looked up to make out the top of the platform and the great beam at
the front. I could see that a single rope had been looped over it to
dangle down beyond the view from the bottom of the stairs. As the
sheriff took his first step on the stairs, his boots made a loud CLOMP.
I gathered my dress in my hands so that the hem was raised, shrugged my
shoulders to push the deputies' hands off, and stepped on the stairs
myself.
Keeping my gaze fixed forward, I began to climb. The crowd hushed. I
could hear the sound of the sheriff's and deputies' boots ringing on
the steps, but the soft kidskin slippers kept my footsteps silent.
Distracting myself by counting the steps, I forced my legs to move
forward and up. One, two, three... I could see myself rising above the
crowd through the gaps in the risers... seven, eight, nine... my eyes
were level with the gallows platform revealing more boots... eleven,
twelve, thirteen... and onto the gallows. I had arrived.
Pausing a moment to catch my breath, I surveyed the scene in front of
me. The sheriff, a couple of deputies, and Jules stood at the other end
of the platform. As the deputies behind me gently pushed me forward,
the men at the front stepped to the side to reveal the noose, dangling
directly in line with my face, and the crowd beyond. My stomach tied
itself into a knot.
Mustering all of my inner reserves, I forced my legs to move once more,
this time toward the men waiting in front for me. I focused my gaze on
Jules to the exclusion of all other sights while I kept walking. I
would have walked right off the end of the gallows if he hadn't planted
his hands on my shoulders to stop me. Once again, I noticed the crowd.
The sheriff walked to my side, facing the crowd, and bellowed, "Anne
Coldfield. You have been found guilty of murder and sentenced to hang.
Do you have any last words before the sentence is carried out?"
All at once, the crowd started chanting, "SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH!
SPEECH!"
I didn't know what to say. They kept shouting at me, shouting so loud
that the sound hurt. I raised my hands to put them over my ears, but
this gesture seemed to quiet them down. Now they were just staring. I
blurted out, "I did what I did. I'm sorry. Let's get this over with so
we can all go home."
The crowd cheered. I heard Jules voice whisper hoarsely into my ear,
"Good girl. Enough to show spunk, not enough to give them more
entertainment. Let's indeed get this over with."
Saying that, he guided me two steps to the left so that the noose was
directly in front of my eyes. I felt the deputies grab my arms to force
them behind me. I felt them cross my wrists to bind them with rawhide
cords. I felt one of them bend down to pass a longer cord over my dress
and around my ankles. I felt another cord passed around my knees
forcing me to bend them and waver slightly off balance.
I heard the crowd cheering and shouting, saw their grimacing faces and
gap-toothed grins as they watched me being pinioned. And I knew, felt
through to my bones, that these were truly my last few moments on
earth. As my teeth began to chatter with the fear this thought brought
with it, I closed my eyes to blot out the sight of the crowd below me.
I sensed Jules behind me, felt his arms pass over my shoulders, felt
the rope passed under my chin and around my neck. I felt him flip my
braided hair over the rope and then felt him tenderly feeling along
my neck to find just the right spot to tighten the knot and finally
fixing it just under my ear. I felt some kind of cloth being pulled
over my head as my knees began to knock against each other. Then I felt
a soft caress under the cloth and along my cheek as I heard Jules'
voice say softly, "Goodbye Annie. I wish we had met much sooner. And
not like this. And whatever happens next, you're the bravest woman
I've ever known." And then his presence was gone.
I stood alone and unsupported. The crowd went silent. My teeth were
chattering so loud that I thought that even the people in back of the
crowd must hear it. My knees were shaking so hard that I could barely
stand. I opened my eyes to find that my vision was blocked by
unbleached cloth. I couldn't see the crowd nor hear it, but I could
sense a thousand pairs of eyes staring at me.
I realized that my heart was hammering away in the silence and that I
was breathing in short ragged gasps. I felt through my body's shivering
that my bladder was full. I would not give the crowd the satisfaction
of seeing me lose control. I concentrated on keeping my feet and knees
pressed together even tighter than the rawhide strips that were binding
them. I concentrated on feeling the wooden planks through the soft
soles of the slippers. And then the planks were gone.
I had a momentary sensation of dropping through the air. I could feel
the wind blowing past my ankles and up my dress. My stomach pushed
against my ribs. And with a sudden lurch, my stomach slammed into my
hip bones.
I felt two coils of the noose grab my jaw to force my head violently to
the side. I felt something pop in the back of my neck as a bright light
flashed in front of my eyes and everything seemed to slow down until
all i could see was a grey fog as i was swinging under the tree when i
was a little girl and daddy used to twist up the rope to make me spin
but i was spinning and caught my neck in the rope and couldn't breathe
and it was getting foggier and darker and i could see little colored
flashes in the darkness and i was doing something i wasn't supposed to
in my pantaloons and my tummy muscles were fluttering like they did
when jacob was having a good night of it and my toes were trying to
find the ground but couldn't and i saw it was getting darker and i had
to get off now because mommy would want me home but i was still
spinning and trying to find the ground.
The coils pushed my head farther over as the noose took the full brunt
of my weight. A second pop in my neck, a flash of bright light through
the fog, and the darkness flooded in.