One of the joys of being a nonfiction writer is discovering characters and stories that are more amazing than fiction and that may never have been told before.
Here is an example from “Bandit Heaven,” which is to be published next Tuesday. Perhaps I’ll see a few of you on that day, October 22, for a launch presentation at the Barnes & Noble in Bridgehampton at 6 p.m.
Though he was born in Montbeliard, France, in 1834, by the late 1870s George “Big Beak” Parrott was a veteran American West outlaw. Perhaps his most profitable hunting ground was the Oregon Trail, especially along the Sweetwater River, where he took from travelers who were not about to challenge his six-shooters. Even better was picking off the occasional stagecoach or pay wagon.
Then came the time to hit the rails.
In 1878, following an attempt on a Union Pacific train near Medicine Bow River, Parrott and his gang hid out in a camp in Rattlesnake Canyon, near Elk Mountain. On August 19, a lookout warned that two men were approaching: Robert Widdowfield, a Wyoming deputy sheriff, and Tip Vincent, a detective working for Union Pacific. The bandits stamped out their campfire and got ready.
Entering the camp, Widdowfield knelt and felt that the ashes were still hot, and he became alarmed that they had walked into a trap. But it was too late to escape it. Parrott and his gang opened fire, and they stopped shooting only when it was evident that both Widdowfield and Vincent were dead.
After the victims’ guns were taken and the lawmen were covered with some brush, the gang took off.
When the bullet-riddled bodies were discovered, the news spread quickly. Friends and colleagues of the two victims were outraged, and railroad officials responded by offering a reward — $10,000 initially, then that was doubled when Parrott and his men continued to evade arrest by hiding out in the Hole-in-the-Wall interior.
The outlaw’s confidence rose to such a level that, by the following February, Parrott thought it time for another brazen heist.
The gang rode to Milestown, Montana, for some discrete drinking and gambling, but soon Parrott learned that a prosperous local merchant, Morris Cahn, would be taking money back east to buy stocks of merchandise. Parrott and his gang carried out a daring daylight robbery, despite Cahn traveling with a military convoy containing 15 soldiers, two officers, an ambulance, and a wagon from Fort Keogh — which offered the additional bonus of a U.S. Army payroll. The outlaws rode off with over $10,000.
In 1880, “Big Beak” and a sidekick, eschewing the safety of the expanding Hole-in-the-Wall compound, were back relaxing in Milestown. Two local deputies, Lem Wilson and Fred Schmalsle, were alerted that Parrott and “Dutch Charlie” Burris were drunk in a saloon and boasting about killing two Wyoming lawmen.
This time the bandits were the ones trapped when the two deputies entered the saloon with guns drawn and arrested them.
Both outlaws would hang for their crimes, but Parrott’s demise was more entertaining to those who enjoy the macabre.
He was tried and found guilty and was housed in the jail in Rawlins, Wyoming, awaiting his execution, which was scheduled for April 2, 1881. Unwilling to make it easy on the hangman, Parrott, using a pocket knife and a piece of sandstone, was able to wedge and file the rivets of the heavy shackles on his ankles. He removed his shackles and hid in the washroom.
When the jailor, Robert Rankin, entered, Parrott used the shackles to bash Rankin over the head. Though the jailor’s skull was fractured, he managed to fight back, at the same time managing to call out to his wife, Rosa, for help. Producing a pistol, she persuaded Parrott to return to his cell.
News of this gambit circulated through town, and citizens decided enough was enough. Groups of people started making their way to the jail.
A few wearing masks burst in and accosted poor Robert Rankin, who was lying on a cot being bandaged by the plucky Rosa. She was no longer packing a pistol and so was unable to prevent the masked men from taking her husband’s keys.
Parrott was dragged from his cell and into the street and presented to the mob, who now numbered some 200 angry men and women. He was hanged from the crossbeam of a telegraph pole.
However, his contribution to Western lore was not over. This is where the macabre part comes in.
Two physicians, Thomas Maghee and John Osborne, carted Parrott’s body off with the intention of studying his brain to see if there was any indication of why he was a criminal.
After the top of the outlaw’s skull was sawn off, it was gifted to Lillian Heath, who, though only 16 years old, was Dr. Maghee’s assistant. (Apparently unscarred by the experience, Heath went on to become Wyoming’s first female physician and reportedly used the skull cap as an ashtray.)
A death mask of Parrott’s face was created, and skin from his thighs and chest was removed. The skin, including the dead man’s nipples, was sent to a tannery in Denver, where it was made into a medical bag and a pair of shoes.
Parrott’s dismembered body was stored in a whiskey barrel filled with a salt solution for about a year, while the experiments continued, then he was buried in the yard behind Dr. Maghee’s office. The shoes must have been an attractive and durable enough pair, because Dr. Osborne wore them to his inaugural ball when he was sworn in as Wyoming’s first Democratic governor in 1893.
The executed outlaw’s bones proved to be durable, too. On May 11, 1950, while working on the Rawlins National Bank, construction workers unearthed the whiskey barrel. Still inside were the skull with the top sawed off and other remains. Heath, then in her mid-80s, was contacted, and she sent her skull cap to the scene. It was found to fit the skull in the barrel perfectly. DNA testing later confirmed that the remains were those of George Parrott.
Today, Governor Osborne’s shoes are on display at the Carbon County Museum in Rawlins, as well as the bottom part of Parrott’s skull, and his earless death mask.
Alas, the medicine bag has never been found.
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