Volume 16 , Issue 8

Billy The Kid

William H. Bonney (born William Henry McCarty, Jr., the son of Irish immigrants, born November 23, 1859, died July 14, 1881). He was better known as Billy the Kid but also known as Henry Antrim, and was a 19th-century American gunman who participated in the Lincoln County War and became a frontier outlaw in the American Old West. According to legend, he killed 21 men, but it is generally believed that he only killed between four and nine. He killed his first man at 15.



General Lew Wallace's Story of Billy the Kid

This story was printed in the Washington Times, 21 September 1902, under the headlines:

Gen. Lew Wallace's Queer Interview with Noted Outlaw

The General would for the first time relate the true story of Billy the Kid's terrible vendetta against him and his officers. The general's encounter with the desperado occurred in 1879, while Wallace was Governor of New Mexico. A more intimate acquaintance was brought about when it became necessary for Governor Wallace to interview Billy the Kid personally. That interview was arranged to be held at night, and in readiness for the occasion, two men a few minutes before midnight sat silent, eager, expectant, huddled together in a little hut on the outskirts of old Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Their gaze was fastened on the door. One man was the owner of the rude home that stood desolate on the shifting sands of the great mesa. The other was Gen. Lew Wallace, governor of New Mexico. The clock pointed to the hour of 12 midnight. The hush deepened. Suddenly it was broken by the sound of a resolute knock on the door of the cabin. Billy the Kid knocked on the door and was told to come in. The door flung open and standing in the doorway with his form outlined by the moonlight behind him, was the most feared, most desperate, and most hunted man in the great Southwest, Billy the Kid.

The light of the candles flickered against a boyish face, yet the man who stood in the doorway was the most notorious desperado in New Mexico. The Kid was alleged to have killed scores of men; he was the quarry of every sheriff from the Rio Grande to the bordering foothills that shut in Death Valley.

The Kid's facial features was a mere stripling. His narrow shoulders were rounded, his posture slightly stooped, his voice was low and effeminate. But his eyes were cold and piercing, steady, alert, gray, like steel.

As the story goes, General Wallace rose to his feet and held out his hand, inviting the Kid forward for a conference.

"Your note gave the promise of absolute protection," said the outlaw, warily.

"I have been true to my promise," replied the governor. "This man," pointing to the owner of the cabin, "and myself are the only persons present."

As the rifle was slowly lowered, the revolver returned to its leather holster, Billy advanced and the two seated themselves at opposite sides of the narrow table.

Billy the Kid was born a New York waif. Before he was more than ten years of age he was brought to Indiana, and in Terre Haute and Indianapolis, where he was raised, he was known as William Bonne. In 1876, when he was about seventeen years old, he suddenly left his home, crossed the Mississippi and came into the country of the men of his kind, the frontier of the far west.

Billy began his career with an oath to kill John Chisum, his first employer when the lad reached the plains. Chisum and the kid had been unable to agree on terms of settlement for a season's work. The result was the lad's fearful vendetta, sworn not only against Chisum, but against all of Chisum's other employers as well.

Billy sent word to Chisum, "For each herdsman employed by you whom I kill, I will deduct $5 from our unsquared account. If I kill you, my bill will be receipted in full."

Billy the Kid's bloody career began. It was not long until William Bonne, the waif, reared in the midst of the peaceful surroundings of Indiana, became the most feared man in the Southwest. At the same time he was the most reverenced, the most adored, and the most respected man in the Territory. It was the kind of good reward that sometimes comes to the bad men.

Shortly before Wallace became governor of New Mexico, Chapman, a young attorney at Lincoln, had been murdered. Half a dozen men were arrested, accused of the crime. Among them was Jesse James.

Witnesses, were filled with terror, fled the country. When Wallace reached New Mexico it was stated on every hand that Billy the Kid had been a witness to the murder. Wallace had been sent to the Southwest to pacify the Territory; here was an opportunity Wallace could not afford to pass by. Wallace arranged a meeting by note deposited with one of the outlaw's friends, and at midnight was ready to receive the desperado should he appear. Billy the Kid was punctual, and Wallace lost no time in stating his proposition. Wallace said, "Testify before the grand jury and the trial court and convict the murderer of Chapman and I will let you go scot-free, with a pardon in your pocket for all your mistakes."

Billy heard Wallace in silence before replying, "Governor, if I were to do what you ask they would kill me."

The governor told Billy they couldn't prevent that. Then Wallace unfolded his plan. Billy was to be seized while he was asleep. To all appearances his capture was to be genuine. To this he agreed, picking the men who were to effect his capture. He was afraid of hostile bullets and would run no risks. Another stipulation was to the effect that during his confinement he should be kept in irons. Billy the Kid was afraid also of the loss of his reputation as a desperate man.

The plan agreed upon in the cabin on the lonely mesa at midnight was carried out to the letter. Billy the Kid was seized the following morning and confined in the Lincoln county jail.

Billy, at this own request, was kept in irons, did not remain long confined. One morning the guards led him to breakfast. Returning, the desperado drawled, in the feminine voice that was a part and parcel of his character said, "Boys, I'm tired. Tell the governor I'm tired."

The manacles slipped like magic from his wrists. The guards stood stupefied and Billy the Kid, laughing mockingly, walked leisurely from the jail yard through the gate and across the street. Easily, gracefully he threw himself into the saddle on the back of a horse standing near at hand, and putting the spurs to the animal, dashed away.

The desperado's freedom was not long lived. He was arrested shortly afterward for a series of murders and brought again to the Lincoln county jail. Patrick Garrett was sheriff. some have said he was probably the one man in New Mexico who did not fear Billy the Kid.

Billy was a thorough fatalist, who believed he bore a charmed life. He believed he would not die until his time came, and then death was inevitable.

Sheriff Garrett received information that Billy had gone back to an old fort in the mountains to see his sweetheart. Garrett followed. He lay in wait in the dooryard of the house of Billy's love, and finally his vigil was rewarded when he saw the door open and a man step out into the white light of the moon.

Garrett raised his revolver, two shots rang out on the quiet air and the room filled with smoke. A form tottered, then crashed to the floor. In the nerveless hand was a smoking revolver, for the first and last time the notorious New Mexican outlaw had missed his aim. Garrett escaped unwounded. But there were two bullet wounds in the body of Billy the Kid, and both pierced the heart.

There is a little lowly heap of earth located at Las Cruces, NM. To the curious stranger some idle native may, now and again, point out this little grave and explain, with a certain pride, that Las Cruces possesses the final resting place of Billy the Kid.   |  View or Add Comments (0 Comments)   |   Receive updates ( subscribers)  |   Unsubscribe

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