Billy the Kid: An Autobiography

by Edwards, Daniel A.

  This type of sensationalist journalism unfortunately was common in the 1800s. Earlier parts of the article make a point to say that surely Garrett would not risk his life for a paltry $500 reward and that he was motivated only by a sense of duty. It goes on to say that Garrett intends to quit his position because he is both under paid and under-appreciated, a strange comment to be made by someone motivated solely by duty as the article claims. In any event, this is just one of many versions of the story that is fairly ubiquitous in period newspapers.

  According to the article, the Kid saw Garrett enter the room and entered the room after him “expressly to kill him” but then upon entering hesitated asking “Who is it?”, “Who is it?” both in English and then in Spanish before backing away and waiting patiently to be shot by Garrett, who had to retrieve his pistol from behind him. Further, the idea that Garrett was hoping to take the Kid alive, after killing both Tom O’Folliard and Charlie Bowdre from ambush, is frankly unbelievable. As we look back through the lens of history it is clear that the public face that was put on the events of July 14, 1881 was far from accurate.

  The description of the Kid himself is likewise flawed. For one, the Kid carried a single action 44-40 frontier six shooter, not a double action revolver as was found in Maxwell’s bedroom. He was also extremely cautious as his close friends have recounted and as his letters to Lew Wallace testify. The idea that he would walk right past two deputies on the porch and then hesitate to fire on a stranger sitting on Pete Maxwell’s bed after being ambushed twice by Garrett and his posse is not credible in any way.

  Billy the Kid’s authenticated letters to Governor Lew Wallace show a careful, calculating man and not the Neanderthal “mouth breather” than many attempt to make him out to be. This is best shown in his letter written on March 20, 1879 which reads:

  “Sir, I will keep the appointment I made but be sure and have men come that you can depend on I am not afraid to die like a man fighting but I would not like to be killed like a dog unarmed. Tell Kimball to let his men be placed around the house and for him to come in alone; and he can arrest us. All I am afraid of is that in the Fort we might be positioned or killed through a window at night, but you can arrange that all right. Tell the Commanding Officer to Watch Lt. Goodwin he would not hesitate to do anything. There will be danger on the road of somebody waylaying us to kill us on the road to the Fort. You will never catch those fellows on the road. Watch Fritzes, Captain Bacas ranch and the Brewery. They will either go up Seven Rivers or Jicarillo Montains. They will stay around close until the scouts come in. Give a spy a pair of glasses and let him get on the mountain back of Fritzes and watch and if they are there, there will be provisions carried to them. It is not my place to advise you but I am anxious to have them caught and perhaps know how men hid from soldiers better than you. Please excuse me for having so much to say and still remain,

  William H. Bonny

  P.S. I had change of my mind. Send Kimball to Gutierrz just below San Patricio one mile, because Sanger and Ballard are or were great friends of Camuls (Campbell’s). Ballard told me yesterday to leave for you were doing everything to catch me. It was a blind to get me to leave. Tell Kimball not to come before 3 o’clock for I may not be there before”

  To those who are not aware of these letters this perspective of the Kid shows a stark contrast to his public persona popularized by history. The facts of history are that Billy the Kid was not just a whimsical dumb kid that led a charmed life as he stumbled in and out of trouble. The “Kid” was a leader of experienced men and a solid tactician even to the point of lecturing General Lew Wallace about how to do his job, telling the general that the men after him had hidden from soldiers “better than you.”

  The fact that the Kid was cautious is also evidenced by his actions on the night Tom O’Folliard was killed. After a long ride his group rode right into town but Billy himself rode around to scout the town before coming in. This level of savvy and caution had many times saved his life and it did yet again on that fateful night when he lost his right hand man.

  In this context the comments made by Deputy John W. Poe on the night of the shooting at Pete Maxwell’s house make perfect sense. As a deputy charged with finding and capturing the Kid he was well informed as to the character and nature of the man he was after. He writes in “The Killing of Billy the Kid” that immediately after the shooting he said “Pat, the Kid would not have come to this place, you’ve shot the wrong man”.

  The fact that Pat Garrett had, in fact, shot the wrong man for the third time in a row would explain a great deal as to why the events following the shooting transpired the way they did as well as why the public spin was put on the story. To this day, there does not exist a single narrative of the events of the shooting of Billy the Kid at Pete Maxwell’s house that is not contradicted by other eyewitnesses, including the deputies themselves.

  To believe the official version of events one would have to believe that two armed deputies, both of whom who would have their nerves on edge in a hostile town, would allow the object of their search (and a man well known to McKinney) to walk right past them on the porch with gun drawn to get the drop of their Sheriff in Maxwell’s bedroom. A scenario such as this is hard to fathom.

  Various other theories have been proposed and accounts put forth, all supposedly based on the testimony of the few eyewitnesses either to the public or privately to their families and friends. As previously mentioned, some say that the lad in question had his pants undone and had just come from the bedroom of Maxwell’s sister. Others say that there was an alcove next to the hanging meat on the porch with a candle that was lit by “the Kid” (Barlow) and Garrett or McKinney shot him in the back while he was cutting the meat, only to find out later they had shot the wrong man. Still others say that Garrett and the deputies were hiding in Paulita Maxwell’s bedroom where they had her tied up and gagged, waiting on the Kid to arrive.

  The late Jack Fountain, son of Colonel Fountain (whose disappearance in the neighborhood of the White Sands is southern New Mexico’s most famous murder mystery) gave C.L. Sonnichsen a new version of the shooting at Pete Maxwell’s in an interview on April 15, 1944. “I rode with Pat Garrett for weeks at a time,” he said, “and on one occasion he finally said, “Well, I’ll tell you the whole story. After Billy got away after killing Olinger and Bell (and Olinger got what was coming to him), the county commissioners wished that job on me. I didn’t want it, but that $10,000 looked good. I thought about what I knew of the Kid and his habits—heard there was to be a dance at Portales—went over. The Kid was just in off the range when we arrived and tied our horses.

  He went to the house of a woman across the street and said, “I’m hungry. Can you cook something for me?” She said, “Don Pedro has just killed. You go across and cut some meat and I’ll fix you a good meal.” He went across, suspecting nothing. The beef was hanging in a little outer room from the vigas. There was a candle and materials for making a light in a niche in the wall. He made a light and held it up while he cut. I was in Pete’s room, talking. Billy heard something and asked Pete who was there. Pete said, “Nobody.” I looked out at a perfect target—Billy lighting himself up with the candle. At first I was just going to wing him. Then I thought if he ever got to his gun it was him or me. My conscience bothers me about it now.’”

  This version of events is only one of the many variations on the theme of exactly how Pat Garrett came to shoot his victim, but it is one of the few that places the body outside Maxwell’s bedroom on the porch, just where Brushy claims he saw his partner lying after he heard the shots.

  In any event the point remains that there is no single narrative for the events of July 14, 1881 that matches what we know about the character and actions of those involved except for Brushy Bill’s. To believe Brushy’s story, for example, one must accept the possibility that Pat Garrett might have accidentally killed the wrong man (he had already done this at least twice), that Billy the Kid may have been tipped
off by the local townspeople that Garrett was in town (this was usually the case), that Deputy McKinney would not allow him to walk right past him with gun drawn despite the fact that the two knew each other well (he would not), that Billy would have smelled a trap and not walked over to Maxwell’s (which Deputy Poe agreed with), and that Pat Garrett was passing off a dead Mexican as Billy the Kid (which the Las Cruces Sun and other newspapers printed at the time).

  In other words, to believe Brushy Bill’s story is to believe that everyone involved that night acted in a manner that was precisely consistent with everything that was known about their past behaviors up to that point. In contrast, to believe the accepted version of history, which is mostly based on the word of Pat Garrett, one must believe that everyone would have acted in a manner that would have been precisely inconsistent and out of character for everyone involved, from the deputies, to Billy, to Garrett himself. To accept the historic position, therefore, is to base one’s belief on one reason and one reason alone. This reason is quite simply stated “because they said so”.

  Brushy continued, “About three o clock in the morning Celsa brought my horse up to the adobe. I pushed my .44's into the scabbards and rode out of town with Frank Lobato. We stayed at the sheep camp the next day. Then I moved to another camp south of Fort Sumner, where I stayed until my wounds healed enough to travel.”

  "Around the first of August I started for El Paso, where I had lots of friends. I crossed the Rio Grande north of town and went into Sonora, Mexico, where I was acquainted with the Yaqui Indians. I lived with them nearly two years.”

  One of the amazing things about the comments of Brushy Bill Roberts are the small details that are woven into his story. Brushy shared many small details that at first glance may seem minor and be easily overlooked but yet fit perfectly into the historic record. Case in point is that Brushy specifically said that as he was getting ready to travel out of town with Frank Lobato around 3 am in the morning that Celsa brought “his” horse around.

  This is an interesting point that raises a question that the “official” version has never answered. Namely, if Billy the Kid was killed by Pat Garrett then what ever happened to the Kid’s horse? Not only has the so-called .41 caliber pistol Garrett claimed was in the Kid’s hand that night never been found (likely because it never existed in the first place), but according to some reports the next morning the Kid’s horse was missing and never recovered as well.

  BILLY THE KID SLEPT HERE

  Brushy Bill said that Billy was staying in one of these old barrack rooms when Garrett tracked him down. Taken from the Parade Ground, looking east

  CHAPTER 7: FROM THEN TILL NOW

  AFTER SO much gun smoke, blood, and passion, the later life of any man involved in the Lincoln County War would inevitably seem anticlimactic. And so it was with Brushy Bill Roberts. He had adventures enough, but nothing to compare with the high drama of the great cattle feud. If Brushy Bill was Billy the Kid, he gave up the role of Avenging Angel to become a bronco buster.

  Just what he did after 1881, and when and where he did it, is not too easy to make out, in spite of the copious notes and bits of narrative he left behind. Bill was full of elaborations and evasions. Maybe he had reasons for leaving a crooked trail. At any rate, here is the story he told, eliminating as many of the crooks and turns as possible.

  “In the fall of ’82 I left Mexico and went to Grand Saline, Texas. I was dressed like an Indian and I took a job driving a salt wagon from there to Carlton, where my folks had lived. I hoped to be able to find them there. I made two trips hauling salt, but never found my folks.”

  “I went back to Sonora, Mexico, where I stayed until the winter of ’83. At this time I returned to Texas as the Texas Kid. I worked a short time at the Powers Cattle Company. From there I went up to Decatur, Texas, where I struck up again with Indian Jim. I had worked with Jim in No Man’s Land in ’75, and again in Arizona on the Gila ranch in the spring of ’77.”

  “While on a cattle drive in Kansas City, I was arrested and held by the law as being Billy the Kid. The boys got me off, though.”

  "Then Indian Jim and I went to work for Tom Waggoner, at Decatur, breaking horses. Late in the winter we left for the Black Hills of Dakota. We joined the scouts, guarding the stage lines on the Idaho trail. We stayed with the scouts for about three or four years. During this time I earned the name of Brushy Bill from riding in the brushy hills of the Dakotas.”

  "Oftentimes we stopped in Cold Creek, Idaho, where I joined the Missionary Baptist church. Those were tough times, but during those days I defied any man to beat me to the draw. While working on the scout gang, I rode for Buffalo Bill on his ranch at North Platte, Nebraska. It was here where I later on rode the Black Diamond mare in the open prairie. No one else had ridden her in the open before.”

  "In the spring of '88 I joined the Pinkerton detectives. That fall I joined the Anti-Horse Thief Association to clear Texas of horse thieves. We rode up and down the Red River, in east Texas, and Indian Territory. We rode up the Ozark Trail in Missouri before we quit. I investigated many cases of counter branding. Several times, with some quick shooting, I shot the branding iron from the hands of the thief.”

  “Judge Parker, a United States judge at Fort Smith, Arkansas, asked me to go into the Ozark Mountains to pick up the many gangs of thieves operating there. He offered me twenty-five men. I refused, telling him, 'Those men know their hills and hideouts too well.” I told him it would be suicide, but to wait until spring when the thieves came out of hiding with their stolen horses. It took us four years to break them up. All the offenses committed in Indian Territory were tried by Old Judge Parker at Fort Smith. I was well acquainted with him.”

  "Going over in the Creek Nation to Round Top Mountain, in '88, we were invited to a big dance, to which we went. We were looking for stolen horses. It was a regular outlaw dance, I'd call it. A fight started that night. Al Jennings and some others rode out. Four men were killed and seven were wounded. When the shooting started in the house, I saw I couldn't get out, so I just laid down on the floor. About the time the shooting ceased, a man came in and turned me over, saying, 'Did I get you Tony? If I knew I didn't, I'd finish you up.' I said nothing and played dead. He thought I was Tony McClure, a deputy marshal. I got up and went out of the house and started to get some water from the well, running over two wounded men. The first thing a wounded man wants is water. So I went to the well and filled my hat with water. I began to give it to them. Jack Shaw, Tony McClure, and Ozark Jack were all shot up pretty bad. Ozark Jack is still living. I saw him about a year ago. We went down to the ravine, got our horses, and pulled back to the Chickasaw Nation.”

  "I joined the U. S. Marshal's force in '92. During the time I was a deputy marshal I saw six train holdups. We saved three of them from losing any money. The Daltons held up a train in the spring of '92. I think it was in the spring. They killed a deputy who failed to put them up fast enough. One of them looked at me and said, 'We know who you are. Put 'em up or I'll kill you.' I put 'em up, too, I did.”

  "When this judge asked why we let them get away, I told him I knew the Daltons and I didn't want to fight them alone, either. We all put up our hands except one man, and he is buried out there, too.”

  "Cherokee Bill's gang held up a train. Joe Shaw's boys got one too. Joe was a good safe-cracker. They didn't get anything. Al Jennings held up a train. They didn't get much. There were four bank holdups and we saved two of them.”

  WORKING FOR THE LAW

  Bill Roberts while serving on the U.S. Marshal’s force, age about thirty. The small photographs are of his Anti-Horse Thief badge, made of bone laced with yellow gold wire. Note the C branded under the mane of the animals belonging to members of the Association

  "I was with the bunch that took Robber's Roost. Also I was in the bunch that captured Crazy Snake, the Indian. We chased them into the mountains, where they hid. Their boys brought food to them. A marshal named Jones roped one of the
boys and hung him to a tree till he was glad to tell us where the Indians were hiding. After a brief trial the court turned them loose.”

  "In the fall of '88 there was staged a cowboy roundup in Cheyenne. The judges wanted me to enter the contest riding a horse known as Cyclone. I didn't have the entry fee. I rode horses of every make, breed, and color on every ranch in the state till I was really saddle toughened. Then I knew I was ready for old Cyclone. So, in '89, I returned to the roundup. Tom Waggoner covered all the bets and I won the championship riding Cyclone, and Tom gave me $10,000 for winning for him. I was known as the Hugo Kid.”

  This episode in the life of Brushy Bill seems at first to be a trivial anecdote compared to the many amazing adventures he described. To date historical records of the event in Cheyanne have yet to be discovered but there is a contemporary record of a horse named Cyclone making the rounds in 1888.

  On January 16th, 1888 the Fort Worth Daily Gazette published the following: "A great sweepstakes for 2 year old horses, open to the state, will take place the first day, entrance fee of $20. The great event will be a match race between R.L. Dunman's Mark Belmont and J.J. Jackson's horse Cyclone, 445 yards, for $2200 aside. The money is now up on deposit as a forfeit, and the race has created great excitement and interest and many people are expected here.”