A few weeks ago, I wrote an article titled “Various Tidbits.” In it, I discussed the growing need for a jail in early Oceana and cited the death of one Mr. Green as the primary reason. As it turns out, this rather unusual murder is explored in much more depth in a portion of Page’s History of Oceana County dedicated to the various mysteries of our county. Today, I would like to revisit this tale so that my readers can get the full story, as it really is quite strange.
If you read the previously mentioned article, you may remember that Mr. Green was found dead of a bullet wound outside his home. Two men had been staying with Mr. Green prior to the discovery of his body, and together they were arrested with Mrs. Green on suspicion of his death. In the end, though, they were discharged. Well, the two men were brothers by the last name of Morse, and at first nothing was suspected of them. That is, until James Gibbs noticed that “when they were laying the body of the murdered man in the grave, the wife of Green [gave] a significant wink to one of the Morses, who answered with a smile.” Gibbs drew attention to this odd behavior and the trio was arrested “which resulted in nothing.”
Following being discharged, the three of them moved into an old log house on an old logging camp “up back of Pentwater.” While there, Andrew Rector, along with “the vigilantes of Pentwater,” paid the trio a surprise visit in the middle of the night. While the three of them were fast asleep, the vigilantes “cautiously approached the house, and, using the trunk of a heavy tree as a battering ram, at one blow sent the door flying to the other side of the room, rushed in and seized the inmates, and applied a coat of tar and feathers, which was intended as a gentle hint that they might fly away, for which purpose of twenty-four was given them.” I’m not sure I want to know what a stronger hint would have looked like. Be that as it may, our heroes are lucky that the victims were asleep and unable to take up their arms. It is written in Page’s history that the ne’er-do-wells had seven shotguns, two double-barreled rifles and two revolvers with them, all of them loaded too. Page also said that “the committee stretched the neck of the elder brother Morse four times, until his tongue protruded, and he became black in the face.”
Whether it was the neck stretching or the tar and feathering, it seems they finally took the hint because the very next day the “widder Green” and her “lovyers” skipped town. I don’t know how word of their circumstances made it back to the ears of the residents of Oceana, but Page concludes this outrageous little tale by saying “the younger brother Morse, married the ‘widder,’ and they are now living in comfortable circumstances and respected in another portion of this state.”
