Billy the Kid: An Autobiography
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BILLY THE KID
An Autobiography
“…I want to die a free man…”
Copyright 2014
By Daniel A. Edwards
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published by
CREATIVE TEXTS PUBLISHERS
BARTO, PA
www.creativetexts.com
Portions of this manuscript have been published previously in the book
“Alias Billy the Kid”
By
C.L. SONNICHSEN & WILLIAM V. MORRISON
PUBLISHED BY
UNIVERSITY OF NEW MEXICO PRESS
COPYRIGHT 1955
AUTHOR’S PREFACE
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 1: BRUSHY BILL’S STORY
CHAPTER 2: THE FEUD BEGINS
CHAPTER 3: BLOOD IN THE STREETS
CHAPTER 4: TO BE HANGED BY THE NECK
CHAPTER 5: JAILBREAK
CHAPTER 6: DEATH BY MOONLIGHT
CHAPTER 7: FROM THEN TILL NOW
CHAPTER 8: THE TANGLED WEB
CHAPTER 9: BE HE ALIVE, OR BE HE DEAD
CHAPTER 10: IN BLACK AND WHITE
A PAGE FROM AN INTERVIEW WITH BRUSHY BILL ROBERTS
EPILOGUE
APPENDICES
APPENDIX A: Governor Wallace’s Proclamation
APPENDIX B: The Change of Venue
B.1. Rynerson’s Motion
B.2. The Supporting Affidavit
B.3. Change of Venue Granted
APPENDIX C: Billy the Kid’s Trial
C.1. The Missing Indictment
C.2. Request for Instructions by Defendant’s Counsel
C.3. Judge Bristol’s Instructions to the Jury
The Jury
1. The Verdict
2. The Sentence
3. The Death Warrant
4. The Sheriff’s Return of the Death Warrant
APPENDIX D: The Report of the Coroner’s Jury
D.1. The Report (translation)
D.2. Letter from the District Attorney of the 4th Judicial District
D.3. Letter from the County Clerk of De Baca County
D.4. Letter from the County Clerk of Guadalupe County
D.5. Letter from the Deputy District Clerk of the 4th Judicial District
D.6. Letter from the Secretary of State of New Mexico
APPENDIX E: The Reward
E.1. Governor Wallace’s Official Offer/ Governor Ritch’s Refusal to Approve Garrett’s Application
E.2. The Legislative Act
APPENDIX F: Affidavits
F.1. Severo Gallegos
F.2. Martile Able
F.3. Jose B. Montoya
F.4. Dewitt Travis
F.5. Robert E Lee
AUTHOR’S PREFACE
In 1882 a notorious outlaw finally walked out of a New Mexico jail a free man. He had just completed serving a prison sentence for the murder of a Texas Ranger and decided prison was not for him. His debt to society paid, he walked out of the prison a free man and disappeared, never to be heard from again…or so we were told.
The outlaw was Jesse Evans, founder of the notorious “Jesse Evans Gang”. This gang, that roamed New Mexico during the 1870s and 1880s, committed innumerable acts of armed robbery, violence and cattle rustling. Its members included such prominent western names as Frank Baker, Jim McDaniels and “Curly Bill” Brocius (among others) but no doubt the gang’s most notable acquaintance was Jesse’s childhood friend; the legendary Billy the Kid.
Traditional history tells us that Billy the Kid was killed in 1881 and that Jesse Evans was never heard from again. The truth, however, is that there is more evidence against this position than we are led to believe.
In 1948 when the brother of Jesse Evans passed away and his estate needed to be settled, Jesse Evans re-appeared and revealed that he had been living in Florida under the alias Joe Hines. Joe Hines was able to prove to the satisfaction of a court of law that he was the one and only Jesse Evans of legend. You see, his brother had left a parcel of land to Jesse and he intended to get what was rightfully his, and he did.
Jesse told the lawyer handling the case that he was one of three surviving participants of the Lincoln County War. One of the other survivors, he claimed, was his childhood friend William H. Bonney, alias "Kid" Antrim, alias "Billy the Kid". This was a startling claim from someone who had himself been considered long dead and it was against the odds that two surviving old men, both who were of meager means, would have the methods or energy to correct the 70 years of established storyline that had developed around the disappearance of Jesse Evans or the exploits of Billy the Kid.
Nevertheless, the lawyer, William Morrison, contacted the Kid who was now himself living under an alias and approaching 91 years old. At first he was reluctant to share his story, especially since he was technically still wanted and condemned to hang for a crime he didn’t commit. However, after some consideration he decided it was more important to make an attempt to secure the pardon he was promised more than 70 years earlier than it was to remain a fugitive outlaw hiding in the shadows. In the end, after a lifetime of hiding and running from the law, Billy wanted to die a free man.
Morrison learned that the Kid’s true name was not William H. Bonney, nor was it William H. Antrim. He had used many aliases over the years but his Christian name was William H. Roberts and he had the family bible to prove it. The Kid’s story was remarkably normal. He discussed the events of the Lincoln County War and some of his infamous shootouts, but he also spoke equally as proudly of his skill as a cowhand and bronc buster. He spoke with deep emotion regarding his friends who had been killed and filled in many details of the times that had escaped the historians of the time and were only found out to be true many years later.
He also provided physical evidence of his identity, both on his own body and in the form of artifacts, and was even able to procure five signed affidavits from surviving witnesses who personally knew Billy the Kid that supported his claim. He spoke to these people in person and was recognized by all of them (and more). When they spoke together they were able to speak conversationally about the old days, each reminding the other of specific events when they were together as old friends do. After these meetings they were each individually and collectively certain that this man was Billy the Kid.
Morrison prepared his evidence and brought the ninety year old Billy the Kid before the Governor of New Mexico to obtain his pardon. In the end, however, the Governor made a media circus and a mockery of the proceedings and used it as a publicity stunt rather than treating it as a serious legal matter. It was thus that the testimony of two genuine living legends was discarded for the convenience of popular history as they chose to accept it. Discarded perhaps, discredited for a time, but not before their story was told in full.
William H Roberts, aka Billy the Kid personally collaborated on his autobiography with William V. Morrison and you are now invited to sit down with him and listen as he tells his story once and for all. Mr. Roberts’ was a treasure trove of first hand testimony regarding life in the Wild West. Like all credible living witnesses of the period he would have no doubt been widely pursued and quoted if it were not for the fact that he claimed to be Billy the Kid.
Many men have from time to time come forward to claim that they were famous historical figures. No one, however, has ever been able to do so with the mountain of evidence that Mr. Roberts was able to provide that he was, in fact, the authentic Billy the Kid of legend. In addition to the signed affidavits from living witnesses that had known the Kid, his physical characteristics the two men shared (including gun and knife wounds), and photographic and physical records that William Henry Roberts had in his posses
sion at the time, Mr. Roberts matched exactly the description of Billy the Kid, including height, weight, eye color, and stature. All of these evidences were available at the time to support his claim. However, despite these things no one of his era except Mr. Morrison was willing to investigate them during his lifetime.
What follows is the original tale put forth in collaboration with Mr. Roberts himself before his unfortunate death in 1950. His story is remarkable both in detail and simplicity. After all, Billy the Kid was a period of only a few years out of a life of ninety. Life, it seems, moves on. And much of life does not consist of adventure or amazing exploits but rather hard work and too often scrambling to get by. The story of Brushy Bill Roberts, therefore, is a story that in its entirety makes perfect sense. It explains with great credibility how a very human Billy the Kid began and ended life as a real person and not as a comic book character or dime novel hero.
My hope as you read this narrative is that you consider all of the evidence for yourself and that you keep in mind what Mr. Roberts said during this first meeting with Mr. Morrison.
He said simply “I done wrong like everyone else did in those days. I have lived a good life since I left New Mexico. I have been a useful citizen. I want to die a free man. I do not want to die like Garrett and the rest of them, by the gun. I have been hiding so long and they have been telling so many lies about me that I want to get everything straightened out before I die. I can do it with some help. The good Lord left me here for a purpose and I know why he did. Now will you help me out of this mess?”
Here’s to you Brushy, and here’s to getting this mess all straightened out once and for all.
Daniel A. Edwards
INTRODUCTION
IT WAS about seven o’clock in the morning when Bill Morrison and his elderly friend, Brushy Bill Roberts, walked into the restaurant to get breakfast. Morrison saw the headlines on the front page of the Albuquerque Tribune as he passed the cashier’s desk. He had the paper in his hand as they sat down, and the more he read, the less he felt interested in food. “GOVERNOR MABRY TO INTERVIEW BILLY THE KID CLAIMANT,” the story said.
“The chat is the result of a recent request from an El Paso legal firm that the Governor pardon their client, who claims he is the notorious desperado.”
It was the next paragraph which took away Morrison’s appetite.
“Several historians have been invited by Mabry to attend the interview. One is W. A. Keleher of Albuquerque who takes a definite stand for the story Garrett killed Billy. Others are Paul A. Walter of Santa Fe and Will Robinson of Albequerque.
“Also invited is Wilbur Coe of Clencoe. He is the son of Frank Coe, who with his brother George took part in the Lincoln County War, in which the Kid figured prominently. Frank and George Coe are dead.
“Mabry said the El Paso law firm said it did not want its client “molested” by reporters, but the Governor said reporters would not be barred from the meeting and could question the aged man after the official interview.
“Meanwhile, Radio Station KGGM in Albuquerque suggested the Governor, rather than pardoning the Kid, if the old man proves to be the famous desperado, should insist that he face trial. Billy had a murder charge hanging over him.”
“What’s the matter, ain’t you hungry?” Roberts asked, already chomping away at his breakfast.
“No,” said Morrison. “I don’t believe I’ll eat till after this interview is over.”
Over the long-distance telephone in Ted Andress’ law office back in El Paso, Morrison had told the governor that he would introduce his man if the conference could be private. Roberts was afraid- afraid of being hanged or, at least, of being trapped some-how. He would go if he could see the governor alone. Not otherwise. There was no telling what might happen now.
At this moment the ancient warrior seemed unworried. He had dressed for the part he had to play- the big hat with “Brushy Bill” on the front of the leather sweat band- the red silk handkerchief around his neck (he loved red things)- the fringed buckskin jacket with the horseshoe-shaped trim around the pockets- blue jeans- shiny cowboy boots. He looked many years younger than the ninety-one years he claimed, and seemed steady enough.
Well, they would have to go on now and take things as they came. The stopped at La Fonda hotel, in Santa Fe, to call the governor and let him know they had arrived. Morrison was politely indignant about the way the interview was being handled, and Mabry was apologetic.
“I had to give them a statement,” he said, “but I told them I was to see your man at ten. You come to my house early and I’ll give you a private conference, as I promised. I’ll let you in the back door about 9:40.”
They dodged the reporters and photographers, who were already bunched at the front of the governor’s mansion, and were admitted at the kitchen door. Mabry met them as they stepped into the central hallway and greeted them cordially, but they could not fail to notice that a good many people were assembled in the front room at the end of the hall, including two uniformed state policemen, with pistols on their hips.
Roberts surveyed the assembled multitude and began to go a little shaky. “Step in here,” said Mabry, and took him in to the governor’s study, where there was a place to lie down. For twenty minutes they conferred behind a closed door.
The chain of events which brought Brushy Bill Roberts to that conversation in the governor’s mansion in Santa Fe, on November 29th, 1950, was weird enough. It began in Florida in 1948 with a man named William V. Morrison, who was working as an investigator for a legal firm. Morrison was a graduate lawyer with a good nose for evidence, an earnest collector of odd bits of fact from bygone days, and a member in good standing of the Missouri Historical Society. He was delighted when it fell to his lot to handle a case for an old man who went under the name of Joe Hines. Joe had never thought of reassuming the name he was born with until a brother died in North Dakota, leaving some property behind. In order to get his share, Joe had to establish his real identity and Morrison was assigned to work up the documents.
It turned out that he was a survivor of the Lincoln County War, in the seventies, and had fought against Billy the Kid.
Morrison himself was a direct descendant of Ferdinand Maxwell, brother of the famous Lucien Bonaparte Maxwell, and had some information about New Mexican history. He mentioned the fact that Billy the Kid had worked for the Maxwells and added that Billy had been killed in Pete Maxwell’s house on July 14, 1881.
“Garrett did not kill the Kid on July 14, 1881, or any other time,” said Hines with great emphasis. “Billy was still living somewhere in Texas last year. The reason I know is that a friend of mine, now living in California, stops over to visit with me here every summer. He and Billy and me are the only warriors left of the old Lincoln County bunch.”
Morrison tried to find out who this old man was, but Joe Hines would never tell his name. However, another old-timer came along who knew all the parties concerned. This was an ancient Missourian named Dalton, who already had startled the country by declaring that he was Jesse James. Dalton knew the whereabouts of the man Joe Hines said was Billy the Kid, and Morrison got his directions without waiting for the annual visit of the mysterious Californian. A correspondence began between him and O.L. (Brushy Bill) Roberts, of Hamilton, Texas, and a finally, in June of 1949, he went out for an interview.
He located Roberts in an unpretentious part of his little county-seat town and made notes on his first impression.
“When I stepped to the door of his home, he greeted me wearing a sleeveless sweat shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. I was amazed to see a man ninety years old in excellent physical condition, stranding as straight as an arrow. He was about five feet eight inches tall and weighed about 165 pounds. He was smiling, blue-gray eyes dancing into my eyes, with right hand outstretched for a very firm handshake. I noticed that he had a small, neat hand with well-shaped fingers, unusually large wrist, heavy forearm, and well developed biceps. His shoulders were heavy, square, an
d shapely. His thinning gray hair had dark streaks running through it. He had a high forehead, prominent nose, and large ears, the left ear protruding noticeable farther from the head than the right ear. He seemed to be a happy, sympathetic, warm-hearted man, but unusually alert.”
They went inside, and Morrison met Mrs. Roberts. In her presence he remarked that it was difficult for him to believe that he was talking to Billy the Kid.
The old man turned red and replied, “Oh no, you’ve got me all wrong. Billy the Kid is my half-brother. He is still living down in Old Mexico.”
So they talked about the half-brother, and Morrison let it be known that he might make a trip to Mexico for an interview. Roberts drove back with him to his hotel and arranged for another talk the next morning. “I have much more to tell you if we can talk alone,” he said.
Early next morning he sent Mrs. Roberts off to visit a neighbor. When he and Morrison were by themselves, he pointed his left forefinger at the lawyer and said, “Well, you’ve got your man. You don’t need to look any farther. I’m Billy the Kid. But don’t tell anyone. My wife does not know who I am. She thinks my half-brother is Billy the Kid, but he died in Kentucky many years ago.
“I want a pardon before saying anything about this matter. I don’t want to kill anyone any more, but I’m not going to hang.”
He became excited as he talked, and tears began to course down his lined cheeks.
“I done wrong like everyone else did in those days. I have lived a good life since I left New Mexico. I have been a useful citizen. I want to die a free man. I do not want to die like Garrett and the rest of them, by the gun. I have been hiding so long and they have been telling so many lies about me that I want to get everything straightened out before I die. I can do it with some help. The good Lord left me here for a purpose and I know why he did. Now will you help me out of this mess?”