Fifty Years a Detective: 35 Real Detective Stories

by Thomas Furlong

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.