Left Brookville, June 20, 1874, for Parkers Landing. Got a boat there
and went down the river. My father, James Watts, traded a gun for the
boat. We built a shanty on the boat as we proceeded down the river. The
names of the parties on that boat were: Charles Beach, Oliver Brooks,
James Watts, J. W. Watts, Sarah M. Watts and Myrta Watts. There was no
difficulty on the boat until we arrived at a point near Ironton, Ohio.
We got a woman by the name of Fanny Rose on board the boat, and from
there down to Maysville there seemed to be some trouble between Oliver
Brooks and James Watts, my father, about Fanny Rose, the girl above
named. My father had been talking of turning state's evidence, and on
Sunday, the 6th of September, 1874, he took an axe and cut a hole in the
bottom of the boat. I remonstrated with him and he was going to strike
me with the axe. The water began filling the boat, which necessitated
our landing. On the night of the 6th of September, 1874, Oliver Brooks
shot James Watts, killing him almost instantly, for threatening to turn
state's evidence, concerning what had been stolen during our trip down
the river, by the male portion of the gang on the boat. James Watts
stole nothing himself. He only lived a few minutes after Brooks shot
him. I was on another boat about sixty yards above the one James Watts
was on. I knew that Oliver Brooks was going to shoot my father, and it
made me very nervous. It made me sick and I laid down. I got up and
started down to tell my father, when I heard a gun shot, but having an
idea of what had occurred I was very much frightened, and was very weak
through fear, and did not go into the shanty on the boat, where James
Watts and Oliver Brooks were. During this Sunday afternoon Oliver Brooks
and James Watts had some difficulty, and Brooks told us all, except
James Watts, that he would shoot James Watts. Alston told Brooks that he
would get my father to play a game of cards by a window, in order that
Brooks could slip around and shoot him from the bank of the river
through the window, and he did shoot him.
I am here to tell the whole truth, and want to keep nothing back. My
father stole nothing, but he did help conceal what the rest of us stole.
After he was shot, and when I came up, either Brooks and Beach, or
Brooks and Alston, were gathering up stones on the bank and carrying
them into the shanty on the boat where my father was lying, and I
suppose they were taking them in to tie around his neck to sink him in
the river, from what they said before the deed was committed. After they
got everything fixed up, I heard them putting my father into a skiff and
rowing out into the river and I heard them throwing him overboard. They
used sixty or eighty feet of half-inch rope to tie the stones to him,
judging from the amount that was gone from the boat. Alston told me he
had just dealt the cards and turned trump. The old man passed, and he
(Alston) turned it down. My father said he would make it hearts, but
turned and looked towards the window from where the shot came and then
fell. Alston caught him to keep him from falling so hard. This is what
Alston told me. After they took my father out into the river and threw
him in, Oliver Brooks said he felt just as well as he did before he
committed the deed and better, too. After this there was no more
conversation about it in my presence as I would not listen to them, nor
permit them to talk to me about it. I did not go into the room where he
was killed, for five or six weeks. It was my rifle that he shot him with
and it was the best rifle I ever saw or used, but after Brooks used it
to shoot my father, I never shot out of it, or looked into the muzzle of
it, but what I saw blood, or thought I saw blood in it. Other persons
saw blood in the muzzle of the gun after shooting it. I showed it to
them without giving them any other information. There was an
understanding and mutual agreement between us that we were never to say
anything about the killing of James Watts. We pushed the boat off that
evening, after my father had been killed and thrown into the river and
went on down stream following our usual avocation of stealing, etc., and
we did not stop permanently until we got to Paducah, Kentucky. At
Paducah, all the males in our party were arrested on the Illinois side
by Marshal Geary of Paducah, Frank Farland, Wood Morrow and Bill Green,
on a charge of grand larceny, committed at Buddsville, Ky. We were
tried, convicted and sent to the penitentiary at Frankfort, Ky. I got
three years, Oliver Brooks got two years and nine months, Pete Alston
got one year and six months and Charlie Beach got three years. Brooks
got pardoned through his wife on the 14th of May, or June, 1875, and I
got pardoned on the 7th of July, 1875, and M. P. Alston on the 10th of
August, 1875.
Brooks and his wife got Beach pardoned. Brooks' wife, as I understood
it, had illicit relations with the son of the Governor of Kentucky, and
through the influence of the son on his father, Beach was pardoned. My
wife got Governor King to write to Governor Leslis, then acting Governor
of Kentucky, and through his intercession I was pardoned. After Brooks
was pardoned out he stayed until Beach and I got out. As soon as I got
out I started for or back to Paducah, Ky., and left Brooks and Beach in
Frankfort. I left there on the 7th day of July, 1875, and have never
seen any of them since. Alston, a short time after he got out of the
penitentiary, went down the Kentucky river, broke into a store, and got
shot in the back. He was sent back to the penitentiary for five years,
and is there at the present time. Up to the time I left Brookville I was
in the habit of going out with a gang composed of Dan Miller, Frank
Watts, John Johnson, Frank Loader, Oliver Brooks, John Lyons, and his
father, and Charlie Beach. Frank Watts and myself went through
Eshelman's grocery store at Dowlingville, and at other places, I cannot
now remember.
I make this confession of my own free will and without the expectation
of any reward or through any fear. I make it because this thing has been
lying on my mind like a lead weight, and I concluded I would tell the
whole thing just as it occurred. My wife and I had a conversation at one
time in regard to the affair and we thought of going to the officers and
telling all about it, but for some reason we did not do it. This was
when we were in Paducah.
Made, signed and sworn to in the presence of Thomas Furlong, detective
for the Allegheny Valley Railroad Company, Wm. P. Steele, deputy sheriff
of Jefferson County, Pennsylvania, and John W. Reed, Attorney-at-law,
August 22, 1876.
Watts made the above statement with a view to shielding himself as much
as possible. He, himself, killed his father, and Mrs. Brooks so
testified. She said it was not only Wess Watts' gun that killed old man
Watts, but the gun was in the hands of Wess Watts.
I, having been subpoenaed as a witness for the state against Wess Watts,
arrived at Brookville on the morning set for his trial. The whole
forenoon was consumed in selecting a jury. When the last juror had been
selected it was about twelve o'clock, and the court took a recess until
one p. m. At that time, his Honor, Judge Sterritt, stated that the
prisoner, Wess Watts, should be brought into court, when the testimony
for the prosecution would begin. I went to the hotel, ate my dinner and
had returned to the sheriff's office in the courthouse a few minutes
before one o'clock. While sitting there talking to Sheriff Steele an old
man entered the office, whom the sheriff familiarly greeted, calling him
Uncle John, in the following manner:
"Hello, Uncle John. I haven't seen you for a long time. How've you
been?"
Uncle John replied, "Quite well, but I'm getting old. Mammy wanted to
get some things in the store and we drove in this morning from
Beechwoods. I've been reading in my paper about Wess Watts and it says
that he is to be put on trial today. You know, Bill, I knew old Bill
Watts, Wess' father, before Wess was born. I've been reading all about
the boy and his gang and he surely must be a very bad and desperate man.
While I'm here in town, I'd like to get a look at him."
To this Sheriff Steele replied, "Court will convene at one o'clock,
which will be only a few minutes now, and I've been ordered by the Judge
to bring Wess into court at that time. If you will go up and sit in the
courtroom, Uncle John, you will have a good chance to see him when I
take him in."
Uncle John was a man more than seventy years of age, was a good citizen
and had lived in the backwoods in Jefferson county all his life. He knew
everybody in the county. His home was on a small farm about eighteen
miles from Brookville. He was a strong, hale man for his age, and had a
full, heavy, white beard. He was an inveterate tobacco chewer and a
typical backwoods farmer.
At the close of his conversation with the sheriff, Uncle John walked to
the door leading into the hall, but, just before reaching the door, he
suddenly turned and said, "Bill, I see in the paper that Wess Watts was
captured down in Egypt by one man, and that man brought him back here
all alone. The paper said that man would be at the trial here today. I'd
like very much to see him, too."
The sheriff (pointing to me) said, "Uncle John, here's the man who
captured Wess Watts and brought him back here."
Whereupon, Uncle John quietly walked across the room to where I was
sitting, keeping his eye upon me all the time, till within a few feet of
me, when he said, "Young man, I wish you would stand up, I want to look
at you."
I stood up, and the old man walked about half way around me, eyeing me
from head to foot. He then turned without saying a word and started for
the door. Before leaving, he said, stroking his long beard with his left
hand and pointing his right at me, "Bill, by jove, it didn't take much
of a man, either."
[Illustration: "Bill, by jove, it didn't take much of a man either!"]
Then he left the room.
Court convened at one o'clock and everything appeared to be ready for
the beginning of the trial. The courtroom was packed with spectators as
the Watts trial had aroused a great deal of interest, and people were
attracted from local and neighboring counties to see the prisoner and
witness his trial. The sheriff did not appear with his prisoner,
however, and the judge sent an officer to notify him that the Court was
waiting. In a few minutes the sheriff appeared, with the officer, but
without the prisoner. He approached the judge's stand and informed him
that he had been unable to induce the prisoner to leave his cell, and
Watts had said he would kill any person who attempted to take him into
court.
The jail was an old-fashioned stone jail, and the doors leading into
the cells were only about two and one-half feet wide and four feet high,
therefore, a person above four feet in height was obliged to stoop on
entering or leaving the cell. They had old-fashioned wooden bedsteads in
each cell, and Watts had torn his bedstead to pieces that morning and
had taken off one of its legs, which was about three feet long and four
inches square, and of heavy hardwood. He was a powerfully strong man,
and had declared his intention of massacring any person attempting to
enter his cell. He defied the sheriff or any of his officers to enter.
After Judge Sterritt had listened to the sheriff's report, he summoned
me to his chair and said, "Mr. Furlong, you arrested this man in
Illinois and brought him to Brookville. Now I deputize you to go to the
jail and bring Wess Watts, the prisoner, to this bar, as soon as
possible."
I left the court with the sheriff and went to the jail, in the rear of
the courthouse, and direct to the door of Watts' cell, where I found him
standing in the center of his cell armed with the big club. I tried to
persuade him to leave his cell, and accompany me to the courtroom, but
in vain. He was obstinate and declared he would kill me or any one else
who tried to enter that cell. I found that persuasion was unavailing and
called the sheriff to one side, out of ear shot, and said, "How long
will it take you to heat a few gallons of water to a boil?"
The sheriff said he thought there was a lot of boiling water in the jail
kitchen, as it was just after dinner. We went to the jail kitchen where
we found a large amount of hot water on hand. We secured a tin wash
boiler and put about five gallons of boiling water into it. I also
obtained a large tin dipper with a long handle. We carried the boiler of
water to the door of Watt's cell. I also armed a big, burly deputy
sheriff named Clover Smith, with an axe handle, and as Smith was
left-handed I placed him at the right hand side of the cell door, while
I placed the boiler of hot water on the left side. I then dipped up a
dipper full of boiling water (about two quarts) and with the long handle
I could reach any part of the cell with the hot water. I threw the first
dipper full at Watts, which struck his breast and upper part of his
body. As he was lightly clad, and the water struck him squarely, he
yelled like a mad lion. I threw two more dippers of scalding water at
him in quick succession, each time the water striking him fairly, and
after I had thrown the third dipper, he made a lightning-like spring for
the open door. As he was obliged to stoop so low that his head almost
touched his knees, Smith, whom I had instructed, struck him with the axe
handle, on the head, felling him to the floor, unconscious. Thereupon,
the sheriff, Smith and myself picked him up and carried him into the
courtroom and laid him on a table before the Judge's stand. There were a
number of doctors present who applied restoratives and brought him to
his senses in a few minutes.
He was scalded slightly in spots on his neck and body, but otherwise
uninjured, except a good sized bump on the back of his head where Smith
had struck him.
He showed no further signs of obstinacy and was perfectly easy to
control and handle thereafter until he was landed safely in the state
prison at Allegheny. He pleaded guilty of having made a criminal assault
on a school girl of about sixteen years of age. She was returning to her
home from school between 4 and 5 o'clock in the evening, her home being
on a mountain on the outskirts of Brookville. Watts met her in a lonely
spot on the road and committed a violent and criminal assault. The girl
knew him by sight. He left her by the wayside in an unconscious
condition, from which she partly recovered and managed to reach her
home a few hours later. She told her parents what had happened and that
Wess Watts was her assailant. Whereupon, the father immediately saddled
a horse and rode rapidly to the sheriff's office, and informed that
officer of the crime.
William P. Steele was sheriff at the time, and immediately summoned a
posse of seventeen men. These men hastily armed themselves with rifles,
shotguns, and pistols and, headed by the sheriff, went to the home of
the Watts', and surrounded the house, which stood on a country road in
the outskirts of Brookville. After the house had been surrounded the
sheriff and one of his men went to the front door where they rapped for
admission. The door was opened by Wess' mother. The sheriff addressed
her as follows: "Mrs. Watts, I have a warrant for Wess' arrest. I am
satisfied that he is here, and your house is surrounded. He had better
give himself up, peaceably, at once."
Mrs. Watts was about to reply, but before she had time to do so, the
large bony hand of her son Wess was ruthlessly placed upon her shoulder
and she was pulled back into the house, he taking her place in the
doorway. He had a belt about his waist in which could be seen two Colts
navy revolvers. He also had a Colts navy in each hand, and as he stepped
into the doorway he said, "Mother, you need not lie to shield me. I will
take care of myself."
And turning around he addressed the sheriff thus: "Bill, I counted your
men as they surrounded the house. There are eighteen of you, and I want
to say to you that I have got twenty-four shots right here (referring to
the four six-shooters he was carrying). I know all of you fellows and,
Bill, you know as well as your men know, that I never miss a mark that
I shoot at. Now, I am going to leave this place at once and I will not
bother Brookville again, unless you or any of your men attempt to stop
me. If you do I will kill every man of you and will still have shots
left." Whereupon he extended his hands in front of him so as to brush
Sheriff Steele and his assistant to one side, and suddenly sprang
forward, ran to the gate in front of the house and then across the road
to where there was a high rail fence. He placed one hand on the top rail
and vaulted over the fence and disappeared into a patch of laurel brush
and timber.
In the meantime the sheriff and his posse, or at least a portion of them
who were in sight of Watts, quietly stood and watched the proceedings
without raising a gun, or attempting to do so. It was after this escape
that Wess and his father, Brooks and the others made their notorious
voyage down the Ohio river to Paducah.
In conclusion, I will add that on the morning that I arrested Watts at
Shawneetown, I had not the remotest idea of either arresting or
attempting to arrest him, as I was alone and in a strange state and had
no papers authorizing me to make the arrest, as Sheriff Steele had
retained the papers when he became ill at St. Louis. I knew that Watts
had never seen me, therefore, he could not possibly know me or my
business; but, then the terrible reputation he bore in Pennsylvania
would preclude the possibility of almost any sane man attempting to
arrest him without what might be considered proper assistance. Knowing
that he did not know me, and having an irresistible desire to see this
terrible criminal, as I had heard him called, I ventured into his shop
merely to get a look at him, believing that I could give him a plausible
excuse for my early visit; but when I saw him and that he was entirely
unarmed, and he did not really look to be as desperate, or even as
powerful a man as he had been described to be to me, I, being armed,
instantly concluded I could never expect a more favorable opportunity to
arrest him than right then and there, and, as a matter of fact, I found
myself carrying out this resolution really before the resolution had
been fully formed in my mind. I saw before me the man who was much
wanted by the Pennsylvania authorities and believed I could get him then
and there, which I did.