by David Fisher
William Henry Bonney likely earned his nickname Billy the Kid after this shooting. It obviously was based on his youthful appearance. Fully grown, Billy Bonney stood five-foot-seven and weighed no more than 135 pounds; he was described by newsmen as “slender and slight, a hard rider and active as a cat.” Other reports described him as “quite a handsome looking fellow, the only imperfection being two prominent front teeth slightly protruding like a squirrel’s teeth.” Although the shooting of Cahill appeared to be a case of self-defense, the Kid didn’t wait around for the law’s decision. Instead, he slipped out of the guardhouse and took off for New Mexico. That turned out to be the right move. After hearing the evidence, a coroner’s jury ruled that because Cahill wasn’t armed, the shooting was “criminal and unjustifiable.” Billy the Kid was wanted for murder.
He stopped running when he reached Lincoln County and hired on with merchants and cattle ranchers Major Lawrence G. Murphy and James J. Dolan. Lincoln County consisted of thirty thousand square acres of some of the best cattle-grazing land in the country. Murphy and Dolan ran a large mercantile business, known as “the House” in honor of the mansion that served as their office. They were in fierce competition with newcomers Alexander McSween and John Tunstall, who were backed by the legendary cattle baron John Chisum. Their rivalry involved much more than money: The Irishmen Murphy and Dolan did not take kindly to the Englishman Tunstall trying to cut into their business. The fight between these two factions was known as the Lincoln County War, and Billy the Kid found himself right in the middle of it.
Initially he joined a gang of mostly teenage cattle rustlers run by gunman Jesse Evans; they called themselves “the Boys.” It was a rough group, known to have committed several murders. The Boys had been hired by the House to steal cattle from Chisum’s Jinglebob Ranch, which would then be sold to Mexicans and Indians. At first, McSween and Tunstall tried to fight back legally, but when the law failed them, they hired their own guns.
Somehow John Tunstall recruited Billy onto his side; one story claims that Billy was caught stealing a horse or cattle belonging to Tunstall and was arrested. Rather than put him in prison, Tunstall offered him a choice. If he agreed to testify against other members of the Boys, Tunstall would give him a job. It was a chance to make an honest living. Tunstall wasn’t much more than a kid himself, being about twenty-four, and most reports indicate that he and Billy took a strong liking to each other. Apparently Tunstall once said, “That’s the finest lad I ever met. He’s a revelation to me everyday and would do anything to please me. I’m going to make a man out of that boy yet.”
When William Bonney reached Lincoln County, he hired on as a hand with merchants and cattlemen James Dolan and Major Lawrence Murphy, who ran their operation out of this mansion, known as the House.
Eventually Billy went to work for John Tunstall, whose efforts to compete with the House led to the Lincoln County War. When Tunstall was murdered, the Kid declared his own personal war on the House.
He never got the chance to do that. On February 18, 1878, Tunstall and several hands—Billy might have been among them—were driving nine horses to Lincoln on the Rio Feliz when they were cut off by a posse that had been deputized by Lincoln sheriff William Brady and included several members of the Boys. These killers now had the law backing their moves. At first, the Boys claimed the horses had been stolen, but clearly that was only a ruse. Three of them managed to isolate Tunstall in the brush, and when the shooting stopped, Tunstall’s body was found lying in the dirt next to his buckboard, one shot in his breast and a second shot in the back of his head.
When Billy the Kid learned of the murder, he said, “He was the only man that ever treated me kindly, like I was born free and white,” and then vowed, “I’ll get every son of a bitch who helped kill John if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
Lincoln County justice of the peace “Squire” John Wilson swore in a posse of special constables, headed by ranch owner—and Tunstall’s foreman—Dick Brewer, to arrest Tunstall’s killers. Billy the Kid joined this group, “the Regulators,” as they became known, when they set off to dispense justice. It was a very strange situation, two legally deputized posses hunting each other. The Regulators struck first, arresting two of the House’s men and then killing them, allegedly as they tried to escape. The escalating war reached a new level about a month later, when Billy the Kid and five other Regulators ambushed and killed Sheriff Brady and his deputy as they walked down the street in Lincoln. Billy was slightly wounded in the gunfight. Although Brady was known to be sympathetic to the House, killing a lawman was serious business, even in a lawless environment, and people turned away from the Regulators, believing them to be no different than Murphy and Dolan’s men.
Over the next months, both sides lost men. Dick Brewer was killed during a shoot-out at Blazer’s Saw Mill, in which House man Buckshot Roberts also died. Frank McNab, who replaced Brewer as captain of the Regulators, was killed a month later; in return, Manuel Segovia, who was believed to have murdered McNab, was tracked down and killed, again allegedly trying to escape. The US cavalry joined the fight on the side of the House, giving their gunmen both legal cover and added firepower. Although nobody knows if Billy the Kid actually did any of the killing, it was agreed that he never held back.
Although there is a lively market in Billy the Kid Wanted posters, most of them were created to take advantage of his fame after his death. The facts here are accurate, but the only verified “poster” was a reward notice published in the Las Vegas Gazette.
This 1880 illustration from the Police Gazette portrays Billy the Kid killing a man in a saloon, probably referring to the shooting of Joe Grant. The Police Gazette was known for its illustrations and photographs of popular criminals and scantily clad women.
The Lincoln County War came to a head at the five-day-long battle of Lincoln. On July 15, about forty of Dolan’s men laid siege to McSween’s house, where he was holed up with at least fifteen men. Supposedly, during a lull in the fighting, a House man called out to Billy to surrender, claiming he had a warrant for his arrest for the murder of Sheriff Brady and his deputy. Billy was said to reply, “We too have warrants for you and all your gang which we will serve on you hot from the muzzle of our guns!”
For three days, the town was a battlefield; then a column from Fort Stanton under the command of Colonel Nathan Dudley joined the fight on the side of the Dolans. Two days later, McSween’s house went up in flames. McSween stepped out into his yard and was shot nine times. Several Regulators were killed attempting to escape the fire. But Billy Bonney was among the Regulators who slipped out the back and made it across the river.
News of the Lincoln County War was reported throughout the nation, and Billy the Kid—the murderous teenager—quickly caught the fancy of the public. In those stories, he was given credit for even more killings than he was known to be responsible for, ensuring his reputation while selling newspapers and novels.
McSween’s death marked the end of the war. In total, twenty-two men had died. At the time, President Rutherford B. Hayes appointed Civil War general Lew Wallace governor of the New Mexico Territory. Determined to end the bitterness, Wallace offered amnesty to everyone who had fought in the war—except those indicted for murder. Because there was a warrant out for Billy the Kid for the murder of Sheriff Brady, he did not qualify for forgiveness. But Billy, being a bright sort, had a plan. He had witnessed James Dolan and two other men murder a Las Vegas lawyer, Huston Chapman. The Kid was hoping to arrange a deal; he wrote a letter to the new governor, stating that he would agree to testify against those three men in exchange for the same amnesty granted other Regulators. “I was present when Mr. Chapman was murdered,” he wrote. “I know who did it…. If it is in your power to annully [sic] those indictments I hope you will do so as to give me a chance to explain…. I have no wish to fight any more indeed I have not raised an arm since your proclamation.”
Meeting face-to-face with a feared killer wa
s not out of the question for Governor Wallace. In addition to fighting in the war and trying to bring peace to a violent region, he was writing a novel that would become part of American literary history, Ben-Hur. On March 17, 1879, Wallace and Billy the Kid met in the home of a man named John Wilson. Billy carried his pistol in one hand and his Winchester in the other. Wallace agreed to Bonney’s terms, but only if Bonney would submit to a token arrest and stay in jail until his testimony was completed. Billy was leery, supposedly telling Wallace, “There’s no justice for me in the courts of this country. I’ve gone too far,” but agreed to think it over. It was said that Wallace promised that if Bonney gave himself up, the governor would set him “scot free with a pardon in your pocket for all your misdeeds,” but Bonney insisted that rather than his being “captured,” he wanted it reported that he had surrendered. Two days after the meeting, he accepted the deal and surrendered to authorities.
He was held in a makeshift cell in the back of a store. His testimony helped to convict Dolan, but the local district attorney reneged on the deal; rather than letting him go, he decided to bring him to trial for Sheriff Brady’s killing. After three months sitting in his cell and with his own trial for murder now scheduled, Billy did what came naturally—he slipped out. He probably could have found safety and a long life across the border in Mexico, but he’d grown sweet on Pete Maxwell’s younger sister, Paulita, so instead he rode for Fort Sumner, where he believed he could live among his Mexican friends.
Billy the Kid’s unusual correspondence with Governor Lew Wallace led to the wanted fugitive actually meeting face-to-face with the future author of the classic Ben-Hur. Billy believed they had worked out a deal that would result in his pardon, but when he was betrayed he escaped from prison and shot his way into legend.
Pat Garrett became famous for supposedly killing Billy the Kid. But his account has long been disputed. Inconsistencies in his story led to him becoming a controversial figure. Although he did not receive the reward money, citizens who felt threatened by the Kid collected the equivalent of twenty thousand dollars for him.
Among the people he surely got to know around Fort Sumner at that time was a former buffalo hunter and cowpuncher by the name of Pat Garrett, who had part ownership of Beaver Smith’s Saloon. Depending on which story you choose to believe, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid either barely knew each other or had become such close friends and gambling buddies that they were called Big Casino and Little Casino.
It is possible that Billy the Kid might have settled down with Pete Maxwell’s comely sister, but the sad truth is that he was in too deep. Although Bonney was a wanted man, it wasn’t a big secret that he had been seen around Fort Sumner. In January 1880, Billy met a man named Joe Grant in a local saloon. They got to drinking, and Grant confided in him that he aimed to become famous by killing the outlaw Billy the Kid as soon as he could find him. Grant wasn’t the first man to make that boast, but he made the mistake of picking the wrong man to make it to. Billy asked to see his six-shooter, then managed to either empty the shells or set it on an empty cylinder. He handed it back and then admitted that, in fact, he was the very man that Grant was seeking. In some tellings, he then got up and walked out of the saloon. Grant fired at him; his gun clicked on the empty chamber. Billy dispatched him with a single shot. “It was a game for two,” he later explained, “and I got there first.”
To survive, Billy organized his own gang, which became known as “the Rustlers,” or Billy the Kid’s Gang. There was no lack of young men willing to ride with the famous outlaw, among them Tom O’Folliard, Charlie Bowdre, Tom Pickett, and Dirty Dave Rudabaugh. As their name suggests, they rustled cattle and stole horses, just as Billy had done years earlier.
The presence of a famous outlaw who had escaped justice riding the range with impunity finally got the attention of Governor Wallace. In November, he appointed Pat Garrett sheriff of Lincoln County. He might have received that badge because he promised to bring law and order to the county, but many people believed it was because he had been friends with Billy Bonney and knew where he was most likely to be found.
In late November, the gang stole sixteen horses from Padre Polaco and headed out to White Oaks to sell them. On the way they stopped at “Whisky Jim” Greathouse’s ranch and way station and sold him four. Billy the Kid also intended to meet with his lawyer in White Oaks to see if there was any way of making a deal with the government. White Oaks deputy Will Hudgens raised a posse and tracked the fugitives to the Greathouse Ranch. Hudgens sent a note inside, informing the outlaws that they were surrounded and demanding their surrender. Jim Greathouse personally delivered their refusal. Apparently stalling until it got dark enough for them to make their escape, the gang agreed to allow the blacksmith Jimmy Carlyle, who was trusted by both sides, to come inside and discuss the terms of surrender. Greathouse agreed to stay with the posse as a voluntary hostage to ensure Carlyle’s safety.
The Rustlers passed the day drinking. When Carlyle failed to return, the posse threatened to shoot Greathouse. As it grew dark, a member of the posse accidentally fired his weapon. Hearing that shot, Carlyle believed that the posse had shot Greathouse and that therefore his own life was suddenly in great jeopardy. He made a run for it, leaping out of a window into the snow. Billy the Kid later wrote to Governor Wallace to explain what happened that day: “In a short time a shot was fired on the outside and Carlyle thinking Greathouse was killed, jumped through the window, breaking the sash as he went and was killed by his own party they thinking it was me trying to make my escape.” Members of the posse swore that the shots came from inside and specifically blamed the Kid. It made no difference to Carlyle how it happened: Somebody shot him dead.
Sheriff Pat Garrett’s posse pursued Billy the Kid for four days before trapping him in Stinking Springs. This 1880 photograph shows the posse arriving in Santa Fe with its captives.
The posse opened up on the house, firing as many as seventy shots without nicking anyone. When night fell, the posse gave up and rode back to White Oaks, allowing the gang to make tracks. Three days later, the Greathouse Ranch burned to the ground. The arsonists were never found.
The killing of Jim Carlyle outraged the public. The Las Vegas Gazette railed in an editorial, “the gang is under the leadership of Billy the Kid, a desperate cuss, who is eligible for the post of captain of any crowd, no matter how mean or lawless…. Are the people of San Miguel County to stand this any longer?” This editorial might well have been the first time the entire nickname “Billy the Kid” was used; until this point he was generally known as simply “the Kid.”
In response, Governor Wallace posted a notice in that paper, announcing, “I will pay $500 reward to any person or persons who will capture William Bonny [sic], alias The Kid, and deliver him to any sheriff of New Mexico.”
Sheriff Garrett knew his success in his job would be measured by his ability to bring Billy the Kid to justice. He organized a posse and quickly picked up Bonney’s trail. On December 18, he learned that the gang was coming into Fort Sumner, and he beat them there and lay in wait for them. Around midnight, the posse heard horses coming into town. Tom O’Folliard was riding point. The posse opened fire, hitting O’Folliard, who screamed, “Don’t shoot, I’m killed!” and died minutes later. The gunfire alerted the rest of the gang to the ambush and allowed them to make a getaway.
But the posse stayed on their trail, catching up with them four days later in Stinking Springs. They quietly surrounded the Kid and his men, who were asleep in an abandoned stone building. Just after sunrise, Charlie Bowdre went outside to feed the horses. The posse evidently mistook him for the Kid and shot him down. Then the posse shot a horse, which fell and blocked the only exit, trapping the gang inside without food or water and little ammo. The standoff lasted almost two days, during which Garrett’s men cooked their meals over an open fire and screamed invitations to the gang to join them. At one point, the Kid challenged Garrett to “[c]ome up like a man and give us a fai
r fight.” When Garrett responded that he didn’t aim to do that, Billy chided him: “That’s what I thought of you, you old long legged son of a bitch.”
Finally, realizing that it was out of options, the gang surrendered. The men were taken to Las Vegas, where a large crowd gathered to see them. As Billy the Kid told a reporter from the Gazette, “If it hadn’t been for that dead horse in the doorway I wouldn’t be here today. I would have ridden out on my bay mare and taken my chances…. We could have stayed in that house but they … would have starved us out. I thought it was better to come out and get a good square meal.”
Billy the Kid was locked up in the prison in Santa Fe to await trial. During that time, he wrote several letters to Governor Wallace, pleading for the governor to intercede. “I expect you have forgotten what you promised me, this month two years ago, but I have not and I think you ought to have come and seen me…. I have done everything that I promised you I would and you have done nothing that you promised me.” The governor did not respond.
While pleading for a pardon, Billy and his men planned an escape and began to dig their way out of the prison. When this tunnel was discovered, the Kid was put in solitary confinement, chained to the floor of his cell.
In April, he was taken to Mesilla, a town to the south of Santa Fe, and tried for the murders of Buckshot Roberts and Sheriff William Brady. He was acquitted of the Roberts killing on a technicality, his attorney arguing successfully that Roberts was not shot on federal property, and therefore the federal court had no jurisdiction. However, Billy was not as fortunate in his second trial. After hearing one day of testimony, Judge Warren Bristol pronounced him guilty, then sentenced him to “hang, until you are dead, dead, dead.”
