Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, April 11, 1993 TAG: 9304090447
SECTION: TRAVEL PAGE: F-8 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: DAN KLINGLESMITH and PATRICK SORAN
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
IN NEW MEXICO, YOU CAN PICK UP THE TRAIL OF BILLY THE KID
They call William Bonney "Billy the Kid," though his name probably was Henry McCarty. The sheriff-shootin', cattle-rustlin' outlaw ignited a legend that flickers still in sites that dot New Mexico's southern desert like a spray of stray bullets."Kid" trackers start sniffing out his trail in Silver City, N.M., near the enchanted state's southwest corner. But all they get is a faint whiff. The Kid lived here as a kid all right, but the cabin where he, his mother, brother and step-father stayed floated away in a raging flood. The resulting ravine, now the tree-lined Big Ditch Park, gives Billy-hunters a quiet spot to catch their breath or enjoy a picnic.
Nearby, the site of the boy's first jail break is now U.S. Forest Service warehouses. The jail itself was demolished in 1938. Incarcerated there for robbing a laundry, the slender Billy shimmied out the chimney to freedom and, apparently, headed south to Shakespeare, N.M., outside Lordsburg.
Janaloo Hough knows that area's history well. Back in 1935 her kin purchased the ranch that holds Shakespeare's ghostly remains. Since then, the family has worked to preserve the busted mining town. Today, Janaloo and her husband, Manny, don Old West period garb and escort small groups through their piece of the past. A typical walk begins at the General Store and progresses along the dusty main street through saloons, hotels, shops, offices and even an ammunition bunker. Along the way, the Hough's recount tall tales.
Step into the Grant House and come face-to-face with ropes dangling in the dining room. It seems back in 1881 two residents, Russian Bill and Sandy King were hanged here. As Janaloo explains, "Bill stole a horse and King was a nuisance so they strung 'em up." Unfortunately, guests arriving the next morning were stuck with the cleanup. Before sitting down to breakfast, the hungry patrons had to unleash the less than lively residents.
Down the street, in the dark kitchen attached to the Stratford Hotel, Billy Bonney washed dishes in the small metal sink. Not for long though; legends have myths to make.
Next, head east 120 miles and hunt down the adobe-walled buildings surrounding Old Mesilla's welcoming plaza south of Las Cruces. Follow the clues through shops filled with art, clothes, ornaments and elegant Nambe Indian metal-ware. Pursue the scent into Pepper's Cafe for lunch flavored with local chile peppers, hot or mild, and a dessert of red yam flan covered in caramel creme. Billy would have killed for it.
He pops up in Mesilla's most unlikely place. The Billy the Kid Gift Shop on the plaza's southeast corner was once a courthouse. The Kid was brought here to stand trial for the murder of William Brady; Lincoln, New Mexico's sheriff and that is where his legend burns brightest.
Bonney would readily recognize many squat adobe buildings that line Lincoln's single thoroughfare today. At the town's western end, L.G. Murphy's "big store" (so called because it was a skyscraping two stories high), stands as a reminder that the village was once the anchor of several Hispanic settlements in the heart of Mescalero Apache land. Across the way, Sam Wortley's hotel still welcomes guests with its rocking chair strewn porch. Further east the stucco Lincoln County Heritage Trust Visitor's Center displays holster, spurs and other artifacts, as well as running film clips and selling tickets for city tours.
But this quiet hamlet may not have got nary a mention in any history book had it not been for the Lincoln County War.
"It wasn't simply a cattle war," explains Ann Buffington, "got-up" in a calico dress and aiming a hand fan at the three dozen sites and settlements that tell the tale. Following her lead, detective wannabes prowl the cottonwood-lined street, sorting out the war's complexities on hour-long walking tours sponsored by the Lincoln County Heritage Trust.
Historians debate the conflict's causes. Suffice to say that Irishman L.G. Murphy and Englishman John Henry Tunstall had opposing views of who should be the town's top dog. Both struggled to obtain lucrative contracts to supply goods for both Fort Stanton and the Indian reservation. Tunstall lost round one though - fatal doses of .45 caliber lead poisoning laid him out.
The row escalated. Billy, a hired gun, emerged as leader of the Regulators, men sworn to avenge Tunstall's death. The feud erupted into the Five-Day-Battle fought on Lincoln's bullet-ridden byway. Murphy's men laid siege to Billy and his buddies after the Kid had ambushed and killed Sheriff William Brady. Setting fire to their headquarters, Murphy's men forced the desperadoes to make a break for the river. The Kid evaded the bullets only to participate in a series of shoot-outs, lies, abandoned amnesties and thievery. Captured, he finally faced the judge in Mesilla who sentenced him to hang for Brady's murder. Imprisoned back at the Lincoln County Courthouse, the slippery varmint skeddadled again - but no one knows quite how he did it.
"There's at least three different versions of the Kid's last escape," says Park Ranger Jack Rigney, inviting guests to play private eye as he shows them the chambers, corridors and stray bullet holes in the two-story, mud-colored courthouse.
First, there's the "card playing incident," where Billy aced-out a guard during a poker game and snatched his gun. Then there's the "large wrist, small hands" tale. Billy's anatomy apparently allowed him to slip off his handcuffs, catch the guard by surprise and make good a hasty departure. Finally, the Hollywood "Young Guns" story - locals call it "Young Buns" - appeals to young ladies in the crowd. In this fabrication, good-looking Emilio Estavez, playing a kinder, gentler Kid, receives help from the starlet, breaks out and rides off into the sunset. In each story, though, murder was Billy's M.O. - he killed both the guard and a deputy who tried to halt his retreat.
Each August, local volunteers re-enact Billy's Lincoln escapades during "Old Lincoln Days." Donning period garb they stage "The Last Escape of Billy the Kid," a shoot-'em-up folk pageant with 1880s Wild West action.
Three years after the escape, Sheriff Pat Garrett inadvertently caught the Kid by surprise at cattleman Peter Maxwell's house in Fort Sumner and got off a single shot that hit just above the heart. The Kid died at the age of 21.
His grave is only a few steps away. Even Billy couldn't escape this prison, though his tombstone has disappeared three times.
Never again though, a steel-bar cage keeps Billy, and his stone, in for all eternity, and grave robbers out. It's a fitting monument for an outlaw.
Dan Klinglesmith and Patrick Soran are a free-lance travel writing and photography team who live in Denver