“The Skinner of the Northern Woods”: The Terrifying True Story of Matias Blackwood — America’s Most Disturbing Frontier Mystery

When the wind howls through the mountain passes of northern Montana, locals say it carries more than snow and ice — it carries history. The kind of history that was never meant to be recorded.

And in the winter of 1883, a stranger wandered into the remote settlement of Whitefish Valley whose presence would begin one of the darkest and most disturbing chapters in frontier crime.

His name was Matias Blackwood — or at least, that was the first name he gave.

Within months, a pattern of disappearances would begin. Within a year, the entire region would be haunted by a terrifying truth:
Blackwood wasn’t hunting animals. He was hunting people.

This is the full account of the case long buried in Montana’s archives — and why many historians believe it represents one of the earliest examples of a commercialized serial killer in American history.

THE STRANGER AT THE DOOR — JANUARY 1883

On a night when temperatures dropped well below zero, locals gathered inside a one-room saloon called The Lodge.

Records preserved in the Whitefish County Historical Archive describe the moment the door blew open with a blast of frozen air — and a figure stepped inside completely wrapped in fur.

When he peeled off the layers, revealing a tall, gaunt man with unusually pale eyes, he introduced himself simply as:

“Matias Blackwood. Trapper.”

He spoke little. Bought whiskey. Watched the room without blinking. Then, the next morning, he arrived at Powell’s General Store with a sled full of pelts so pristine they stunned even seasoned fur buyers.

But Powell noticed something else —a second bundle Blackwood refused to let anyone touch.

When asked, Blackwood’s reply was chillingly vague:

“Specialty pelts. For a man in Helena.”

A TOWN GROWS SUSPICIOUS

Every ten days, like clockwork, Blackwood returned with more furs.

Always alone.

Always quiet.

Always carrying that extra bundle.

Then came the first rumor.

A hunter named Josiah Hudson claimed he’d stumbled upon Blackwood’s cabin while tracking an elk — and saw strange wooden frames, metal apparatuses, and no signs of ordinary trapping.

Most dismissed the story as whiskey-fueled imagination.

Until people began disappearing.

THE VANISHINGS — AND THE RISING FEAR

March 1883:

Martha Johansson, a young woman gathering herbs at the forest’s edge, never returned. Only her basket was found — abandoned on a trail that led toward Blackwood’s cabin.

One week later:

Zachary Norris, a mill worker, vanished on a delivery route. His wagon remained on the road. Norris did not.

People were afraid to speak the obvious. No one wanted to accuse a man with no evidence. No one wanted to accuse a man who lived in the kind of wilderness that could swallow pursuers whole.

Still, the suspicions intensified.

A WITNESS RETURNS — AND THE TRUTH BEGINS TO EMERGE

On April 9th, young Sebastian Hollister secretly followed Blackwood back to his remote cabin. What he saw — and what he refused to say aloud — became the turning point in the entire case.

According to the sworn testimony recorded by local lawman Thaddius Ashcroft, Sebastian returned “ashen, shaking, and unable to speak for several hours.”

What he finally whispered was enough to send ten armed men into the woods the next morning.

What he had seen through the shutter gap were not animal pelts at all.

They were human.

THE RAID ON BLACKWOOD’S CABIN

Only seven men returned.

Ashcroft’s official report was deliberately vague, preserving only hints:

“Inside the structure were materials inconsistent with any known trapping practices.”

But the personal diaries written by the men present that day — preserved in private family archives — reveal the unbearable truth.

Inside the cabin, they found:

Wooden stretching frames
Metal hooks and tools unlike anything used in hunting
Preservation barrels
Chemical solutions used for tanning

And most horrifying of all:

Three missing men — alive, but skinned.

Hudson’s personal letter to his brother, dated April 20, 1883, contains the most chilling line in the entire case:

“I pray the Lord forgives us for what we saw. Their skin had been removed with a precision no surgeon could match — and they were still breathing.”

None survived the journey back to Whitefish.

THE SPECIALTY PELTS EXPLAINED

Blackwood called them “specialty pelts.”

In reality, they were human skin, preserved so meticulously that collectors in Helena, San Francisco, New York, and even Europe paid extraordinary sums for them.

This was a market the frontier had never seen before — a black-market network trading in what one investigator later called:

“Anthropological skin specimens.”

Blackwood wasn’t a deranged killer acting alone.

He was part of a supply chain.

THE ESCAPE — AND THE SPREAD OF THE BLACKWOOD LEGEND

Despite the raid, Blackwood vanished.

Over the next three years, he appeared sporadically across Montana, Idaho, and Washington Territory, under names such as:

Jeremiah Caldwell
Matias Thornne
M.B. Carter

With each appearance came:

Immaculate fur pelts
A separate bundle
And new disappearances

Then came the next revelation.

THE MAN WHO TAUGHT HIM

In 1884, wealthy fur buyer Lawrence Merritt was found dead in his Helena office.

He had been flayed.

Hidden in his ledger, written in code, investigators uncovered:

He was Blackwood’s mentor.

Merritt had learned human skin preservation techniques while working as a Civil War medical orderly. Afterward, he began supplying wealthy collectors fascinated with “rare human specimens.”

And Merritt trained apprentices.

Blackwood was only one of several.

THE NETWORK: A SECRET TRADE IN HUMAN SKIN

When Pinkerton detective Raymond Walsh cracked the ciphers, the truth was worse than anyone imagined.

The buyers were:

Wealthy collectors
Museum curators
Doctors
University researchers
Influential European clients

They wanted preserved human skin with:

Tattoos
Unusual pigmentation
Scarring
Rare conditions

The demand was real.

The profits were enormous.

And Blackwood, disturbingly, was considered by clients as “one of the finest artisans of the craft.”

THE FINAL SIGHTING — AND THE UNSETTLING EPILOGUE

1904:

A tall, heavily scarred man matching Blackwood’s description was found dead in northern California. Authorities noted:

“Extensive scarring consistent with attempted flaying.”

Some believe it was justice.

Others think it was a rival supplier.

But most historians agree on the most terrifying possibility:

Blackwood wasn’t the only one.

THE MODERN CONNECTION

In the 1960s, Blackwood’s techniques resurfaced when investigators uncovered a descendant of Merritt operating a “quiet, small-scale version” of the same trade.

Even more chilling:

Some of those clients — wealthy collectors — had passed down their macabre interests like family heirlooms.

And today, forensic agencies occasionally encounter preserved human skin traded through anonymous online black markets.

The methods appear eerily similar to Blackwood’s.

THE LEGACY OF A FRONTIER MONSTER

Unlike most serial killers, Blackwood did not kill for pleasure or delusion.

He killed for profit.

He created a product line.

He managed supply and demand.

He used branding — “specialty pelts.”

He developed proprietary techniques.

He had clients, apprentices, and distribution channels.

He was, in every sense, a businessman.

Just one whose product happened to be human beings.

The crackle of Montana’s winter wind still drifts across Whitefish Lake. Rangers say animals avoid the old cabin site — even now. And when the storm is just right, locals swear you can hear the faint clatter of metal and wood:

The last echo of a cabin where a man turned human life into inventory.