American History Tellers - Billy the Kid | Dead or Alive | 3

Episode Date: January 26, 2022

With the bloody Lincoln County War finally over, Billy the Kid tried to make a truce with his arch enemy, Jimmy Dolan. But his plan backfired, and he wound up forced to go on the run, implicated in a murder Dolan committed.Billy’s charm and quick wits kept him just outside the reach of law. But he would soon meet his match. A former bartender turned lawman, Pat Garrett, vowed to capture and kill the Kid at any cost. Garrett’s epic pursuit of Billy the Kid took him through the hills and villages of New Mexico, until their final deadly clash, which would turn the Kid into a legend.Listen ad free with Wondery+. Join Wondery+ for exclusives, binges, early access, and ad free listening. Available in the Wondery App. https://wondery.app.link/historytellersPlease support us by supporting our sponsors!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's the evening of February 18th, 1879, in the town of Lincoln, New Mexico Territory. It's one year to the day since the murder of John Tunstall, a hated rival of your boss, Jimmy Dolan. You and a few men are walking down Main Street, out for a night on the town with Dolan. He's in a good mood, which puts you on edge. You know that often, his good moods are more dangerous than when he's in a foul temper. All right, boys, I'm ready for another drink or two. Maybe more than that. All right, Jimmy, whatever you say. Dolan's been swilling whiskey for hours at his store down the

street. He's feeling no pain. Come on now, we're going to celebrate. It's not every day a man can shake hands with his worst enemy, am I right? Damn right, Jimmy. You have to admit, there is cause for celebration. Earlier tonight, Dolan met with Billy Bonney, a local employee of the late John Tunstall. When Dolan's gang murdered Tunstall, it sparked a bloody war between your side and Billy's. But tonight, Billy and Dolan came to an honor among thieves agreement, stipulating that neither man will testify against the other. And more importantly, the killing will stop. Billy's walking with your group right now, right next to Dolan. He looks relieved, but tense. Then across the road, Dolan sees a familiar face. Well, look who's here. Mr. Houston Chapman, attorney at law. Chapman is an

out-of-town lawyer hired by the widow of another of Dolan's victims, Tunstall's former partner, Alexander McSween. He's well dressed, but missing an arm, just the type Dolan likes to pick on. He shouts at Chapman from across the street, I hear you can dance around a courtroom. Let's see you dance in the street. Chapman is struck dumb at Dolan's drunken command. You can see Billy put a hand on the pistol at his hip, watchful. You pull Dolan aside and whisper in his ear, hey boss, you scared the man. Let's leave it at that. We don't want any trouble out here. Who said anything about trouble? I just want to see the man dance. Here's a little music for you,

Chapman. I call it the six-cylinder waltz. Dolan squeezes off two quick shots, aiming at Chapman's feet. The lawyer really does look like he's dancing a jig as he dodges them. Dolan laughs, and for a second, you think that's the end of it. But then he takes aim and fires two more shots, right into Chapman's chest. Oh, no. Aren't you going to keep dancing for me, Counselor? Get up.

You look at Chapman laying on the ground, blood pouring from his wounds. Oh, Christ, Jimmy, you killed him. We've got to get out of here. Oh, good idea, I guess. Let's head over to the sloom. Toast Mr. Chapman's untimely demise. It's the honorable thing to do. Come on, boys, I'm buying.

You glance over at Billy. You can tell from the look on his face that he doesn't want any part of this. But he also doesn't want to anger Dolan. Neither do you. You and Billy follow your boss toward the bar. You have a strong feeling that this incident is going to come back to haunt everyone involved. Even in the lawless world of Lincoln, cold-blooded murder on Main Street is not going to be ignored.

I'm Sachi Cole. And I'm Sarah Hagee. And we're the hosts of Scamfluencers, a weekly podcast from Wondery that takes you along the twists and turns of the most infamous scams of all time, the impact on victims, and what's left once the facade falls away. Follow Scamfluencers on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Have you ever wondered who created that bottle of sriracha that's living in your fridge? Or why nearly every house in America has at least one game of Monopoly? Introducing The Best Idea Yet, a brand new podcast about the surprising origin stories of the products you're obsessed with. Listen to The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers.

Our history, your story. In February of 1879, before he became known as Billy the Kid, Billy Bonney found himself running out of allies. Both of his former bosses, John Tunstall and Alexander McSween, had been shot dead. His band of outlaws, the Regulators, was depleted and rudderless. So to avoid returning to a life on the run, Billy went to make peace with his hated enemy, Jimmy Dolan. But the night turned deadly when Dolan shot and killed an attorney. Because he was present for the killing, Billy was implicated and had to flee once again anyway, with the law close at his heels.

But despite the pact he made with Dolan, Billy Bonney was still dedicated to killing the remaining men responsible for Tunstall's death. He was living as an outlaw, with his mother's dying words ringing in his head. If you choose a life of crime, you'll hang before you're 21. But Billy had no intention of letting that happen. He would stop at nothing to avoid capture. And even when it did happen, he pulled off daredevil escapes. But the law was closing in on him, as he was pursued ruthlessly by an old acquaintance turned enemy. This is Episode 3, Dead or Alive. Six months before he attempted to make peace with Jimmy Dorn, Billy Bonney found himself adrift.

It was August 1878, and the Lincoln County War had just ended in the bloodbath known as the Big Killing. Billy had managed to escape the carnage, but his boss, Alexander McSween, had not. McSween was gunned down outside his burning home by Dolan's gang. Now, with the last of their leaders dead, Billy and his fellow regulators had little left to fight for. Many men returned to their former lives, but Billy had no former life to return to. The vigilante group had given him an extended family of brothers and an honorable cause to fight for, breaking Jimmy Dolan's corrupt grip on Lincoln County and avenging the murder of Billy's boss,

John Tunstall. By fighting these fights, Billy had become part of something that made him more than a drifting, aimless bandit. That was a hard thing to give up. Billy tried to become a leader for the group and hatched a plan for a new display of force. But it was no righteous attempt at vengeance. It was crime, pure and simple, and it backfired. The regulators needed horses. Billy and about 20 others tried to steal them from the Mescalero Apache Indian Agency near the small outpost of Blazer's Mill. The brazen attempt sparked a gun battle as Apaches and a group of visiting army soldiers attacked Billy's crew. In the shootout, an agency worker was killed.

Billy and his partners escaped, but the incident brought a murder indictment against Billy, despite the fact that he was not the trigger man. Billy's guilt or innocence didn't matter much to the public. Thanks to a stream of exaggerated newspaper stories, Billy had become the object of fascination, linked to all manner of uncivilized deeds throughout the county. And after the Lincoln County War, Jimmy Dolan, Governor Samuel Axtell,

and other corrupt New Mexico powerbrokers were looking for a scapegoat, someone to blame for all the area's violence. Billy Bonney was a perfect patsy. He was already practically a household name. He'd become popular with journalists, and for good reason. Even in a region full of colorful outlaws,

Billy's daring, recklessness, and charm set him apart. He had a knack for escaping jail cells and surviving deadly gun battles. He was a great character to write about, and a superb character to embellish. But behind all the mythologizing, Billy was human, and he was struggling. By early 1879, President Rutherford B. Hayes had had enough of New Mexico Governor Samuel Axtell. Axtell had exhibited blatant favoritism toward

the Dolan faction, and there were charges of corruption and mismanagement throughout his administration. Hayes sent a special agent of the Department of Justice to Lincoln County to investigate it. That agent submitted a scathing report on Axtell's actions to the U.S. Attorney General. The accusations detailed in this report were the last straws. President Hayes replaced Axel with a respected Civil War and Mexican-American War veteran, Major General Lew Wallace. In March of 1879, Lew Wallace declared a policy of amnesty for anyone involved in the Lincoln County War. But there was a catch. Wallace didn't extend the offer to anyone previously under indictment, which meant there would be no pardon for Billy Bonney,

who was wanted for several murders, including that of attorney Houston Chapman, who Dolan shot in the street. The cold-blooded killing of Chapman was exactly the kind of thing Wallace wanted to stop. He needed to make an example of the men behind the shooting, and as far as he was concerned, that included both Jimmy Dolan and Billy Bonney, who had been at the scene of the crime. A reward of $1,000 was offered for the capture of either man. Billy left town immediately after Chapman's murder. He had no interest in being arrested for a murder he did not commit. He fled to his favorite safe haven, the mostly Hispanic community of San Patricio. Dolan, meanwhile, was arrested

in early March and sent to nearby Fort Stanton, but he refused to confess or testify. And just days later, Wallace was surprised to receive an intriguing letter from Billy Bonney himself. He wrote, Dear Sir, I was present when Mr. Chapman was murdered, and I know who did it. I have no wish to the governor. If word of this offer to speak against Dolan got out, he'd be a dead man. But for Wallace, Billy's offer was gold. Eyewitnesses willing to testify about anything in Lincoln County were notoriously hard to find. Wallace replied quickly, requesting a clandestine meeting.

But he had no idea whether Billy would show up or stick to his word. Imagine it's the night of March 17, 1879, at a small wood-framed home on the edge of Lincoln. You're the governor of New Mexico, and the owner of this home has agreed to let you use it for a secret meeting with the town's most notorious outlaw. You sit in the small living room, lit only by a flickering oil lamp, and glance up at the clock. It's 8.59. In one minute, Billy Bonney is scheduled to walk through the front door. You're half expecting him not to appear at all. He's evaded the law in these parts for over a year, and you're skeptical he'll actually show his face now. The clock chimes nine o'clock, the appointed hour. Come in. A young man steps in cautiously. He's dressed like a cowboy, with a beaten sombrero on his head,

cocked at a rakish angle. He's also got a revolver in one hand and a Winchester rifle in the other. They're both pointed at the ground, thankfully. But you know, that could change fast. He eyes you warily. Neither of you know exactly what to expect. So, you're the notorious Mr. Bonnie. Don't know about the notorious part, but that's me, sir. You've dealt with a lot of hard characters in your day, especially during the Civil War. This kid is surprisingly young. Doesn't seem like a bad sort, but there's something about him. Your instincts tell you he could snap on a dime. Well, I'll cut to the chase, Bonnie. I can offer you complete amnesty for your testimony against Dolan in the Chapman murder. He squints at you.

Amnesty for? For everything that you've done that the law would frown on, up to and including murder. That's a generous offer, Governor. But if I surrender to you, there's people that'll use a bullet to keep me quiet, and we both know it. True. But there's no need for you to surrender. I'll have you arrested. It'll be a fake arrest, of course, but enough to convince everyone that it's against your will. That could work, I guess. But I'll have to put up a fight.

Of course. And you might get roughed up a little. Just for show. After that, I'll put you in protective custody. You'll be treated well. Then after you testify for the grand jury, you'll leave with a pardon in hand. And I'll promise you protection if anyone comes after you for this. Billy stands and stares at you. The lamplight flickering shadows across his face. He's a hard man to read. But finally, he speaks. I'll let you know in a couple of days.

And with that, he's gone. But you have a good feeling about this, which is a relief. This Bonnie fellow is your best hope of turning the tide against these murderous outlaws. Billy eventually agreed to the deal with Governor Wallace. A few days later, he was arrested, as planned, in San Patricio, taken to Lincoln, and put under house arrest. Governor Wallace was lodging next door. After sundown, he was amazed to hear local Hispanic musicians

serenading Billy outside the home. And a few attractive local women stood gazing at the windows, waiting for a wave from the prisoner. Billy testified as planned, stating that Jimmy Dolan and two henchmen had killed Chapman. Dolan was indicted for murder by the grand jury, but unbeknownst to Billy, he had an ace up his sleeve. The county district attorney, William Reinerson,

was a strong ally of Dolan's. He still wanted Billy to hang for the murder of Sheriff William Brady the previous year and consequently refused to honor Governor Wallace's amnesty deal. He also dropped the murder charge against Dolan. By this time,

Wallace was back at the governor's mansion in Santa Fe and preoccupied with other matters. He chose not to stand up to Reinerson over the withdrawal of Billy's amnesty bargain. Realizing that his deal with Wallace was off the table, Billy Bonney resorted to a familiar move. In June of 1879, he fled. This time, he headed about 150 miles northeast to a remote outpost favored by bandits called Fort Sumner near the Pecos River. The town offered plenty of gambling and potential female companionship at boisterous

weekly dances that drew folks from miles away. And this was fitting, because Billy's reputation as a desperado was rivaled only by his romantic conquests. It was said he had a sweetheart in every town plaza along the Pecos River, and perhaps even fathered children. In Fort Sumner, Paulita Maxwell was the object of his affection. She was the sister of his friend Peter Maxwell. The siblings were of French, Irish, and Hispanic descent and were members of one of the most prosperous families in New Mexico, but Billy's passionate bond with Paulita would ultimately keep him in town to face dire consequences. In addition to the Maxwells, Billy also had strong friendships with many local Hispanic sheepherders,

as well as a few trusted Anglo-Confederates who'd survived the war in Lincoln. But best of all, there was virtually no law presence in Fort Sumner. With all his local connections, Billy would be made well aware if any posses were spotted in the area. And with his growing reputation in the press as a vicious, hair-trigger killer, there were a few men that had the guts to come after him. But there was still a thousand-dollar price on his head. It was a tempting bounty, but for most, not worth dying for.

Still, no matter how welcome Billy felt in Fort Sumner, he remained a fugitive from justice. The federal and territorial murder charges against him weren't going to dry up and blow away. Back in Lincoln, District Attorney Reinerson was out for blood. Billy knew he could only hide out for so long. Now that he had broken the outlaw's code by testifying against Jimmy Dolan, many would be happy to see him dead. And his last attempt at starting a fresh, law-abiding life had failed. The governor had betrayed him. At only 19 years old, Billy was a veteran Desperado. Now there was no turning back from his life on the run. And a new lawman was about to take up the hunt for him, one who would stop at nothing to finally bring him to justice.

Are you in trouble with the law? Need a lawyer who will fight like hell to keep you out of jail? We defend and we fight just like you'd want your own children defended. Whether you're facing a drug charge, caught up on a murder rap, accused of committing war crimes, look no further than Paul Bergeron. All the big guys go to Bergeron because he gets everybody off. You name it, Paul can do it. Need to launder some money? Broker a deal with a drug cartel?

Take out a witness? From Wondery, the makers of Dr. Death and Over My Dead Body, comes a new series about a lawyer who broke all the rules. Isn't it funny how witnesses disappear or how evidence doesn't show up or somebody doesn't testify correctly?

In order to win at all costs. If Paul asked you to do something, it wasn't a request. It was an order. I'm your host, Brandon James Jenkins. Follow Criminal Attorney on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Criminal Attorney early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.

This is the emergency broadcast system. A ballistic missile threat has been detected inbound to your area. Your phone buzzes and you look down to find this alert. What do you do next? Maybe you're at the grocery store. Or maybe you're with your secret lover. Or maybe you're robbing a bank. Based on the real-life false alarm that terrified Hawaii in 2018,

Incoming, a brand new fiction podcast exclusively on Wondery Plus, follows the journey of a variety of characters as they confront the unimaginable. The missiles are coming. What am I supposed to do? Featuring incredible performances from Tracy Letts, Mary Lou Henner, Mary Elizabeth Ellis, Paul Edelstein, and many, many more, Incoming is a hilariously thrilling podcast that will leave you wondering, how would you spend your last few minutes on Earth? You can binge Incoming exclusively and ad-free on Wondery+.

Join Wondery+, in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. In early 1880, Billy Bonney had many friends and acquaintances in the rough-and-tumble town of Fort Sumner, including a man named Pat Garrett. A lot of people knew Garrett. At six feet four and thin as a reed, he was hard to miss. He'd arrived in town in 1878 after years spent hunting buffalo on the Texas plains.

Since then, he'd been a bartender at a local saloon at Fort Sumner. He'd worked as a cowhand for Billy's pal Peter Maxwell. He'd raised hogs. And during his tenure in Texas, he'd shot a man to death in an argument. No punishment was leveled against him, but it was good for his resume in tough Fort Sumner. Overall, he was recognized as a rough character when he needed to be, but also a decent, quiet man who didn't seek out trouble. Billy and Garrett knew and respected one another, though they were never good friends. They were ranked as the two best shots in the county, and in the small town of Fort Sumner, Billy spent considerable time playing cards at the saloon where Garrett was slinging

drinks. Their acquaintance, though, would soon change the lives of both men. In early 1880, Billy added another notch to his belt. At a bar in Fort Sumner, he clashed with a notorious drunk with a penchant for violence. After guzzling a sea of whiskey, the man took a shot at Billy, but missed. Billy, who never drank and was sober as usual, returned fire and killed him instantly. The incident gave Billy a bit more tough-guy credibility, but other than that, it barely caused a ripple. A fatal shooting was just another night in Fort Sumner. But the growing criminality in the region was drawing federal attention. In September of 1880, the U.S. Treasury Department sent a Secret Service agent to Lincoln County to investigate charges of counterfeiting.

The agent found that Billy Bonney was linked to the crime, as well as cattle theft and robbing a stagecoach of the U.S. Mail. But he was hardly the only bad man in town. The agent was shocked at the level of crime in the county. The citizens of Lincoln lived in constant fear. Outlaws seemed to rule the roost. And as with Billy's shooting of the drunk at the bar, murder was often ignored.

The new Lincoln County Sheriff, George Kimball, was sympathetic to Billy Bonney's situation. Billy was a favored and frequent poker buddy of Kimball's. The county was filled with men that qualified as criminals, and Kimball happily consorted with many of them. That didn't sit well with the federal government or their Secret Service agent, who vowed to clean the county up. Two local businessmen backed the agent's efforts, which centered on installing a new sheriff who

actually went after criminals. And 1880 happened to be an election year. Six-foot-four, thin-as-a-reed Pat Garrett was their prime choice to run for office and be the next sheriff. Garrett was happy to be enlisted. He was tired of bartending and had no further desire to deal with hogs again. He wanted a new life with steady work, and he had no sympathy for outlaws and the havoc they caused among the general population. So when he ran, it was on a law-and-order platform. But that instantly put him at odds with Billy, who pushed for his friend Kimball's re-election.

On the day of the election, November 2nd, 1880, Garrett won the election 320 votes to 179. Though Garrett's term didn't officially start until January 1st, Kimball saw the writing on the wall. He knew Garrett had an agenda and the backing of local business leaders, so he bowed to the inevitable and immediately deputized the sheriff-elect. Garrett got right to work, drawing up a list of names to target in his anti-crime crusade. Top of that list was Billy Bonney.

Just days after Garrett's election win, Billy and his cronies stole some horses from a well-liked local storekeeper. Garrett wasted no time in organizing a heavily armed posse to hunt the men down. The posse tracked them for about 40 miles from Lincoln to a ranch near the community of White Oaks. On November 27, 1880, a gun battle led to a standoff as Billy and his gang took refuge in the small house. Deputy Sheriff Jim Carlyle tried to negotiate their surrender, entering the house unarmed. Carlyle was an affable, well-respected man. After a few hours of discussion, Carlyle wanted to rejoin the posse, but the outlaws refused to let him leave.

Carlyle panicked and jumped through a window. As he did, someone in the house, perhaps more than one, fired at him. The deputy hit the ground, dead. It was uncertain who had actually killed him, though many fingers pointed to Billy, who in this incident once again escaped capture. Later, he strongly denied the charge of shooting Carlisle. But guilty or not, the shooting engendered a turn in the public's feelings about Billy Bonney. Carlisle was not some greedy business owner or crooked sheriff. He was a well-liked member of the community. And to many, his death wasn't the work of a charming rogue, but a vicious, cold-blooded killer. On December 3, 1880, New Mexico newspaper The Las Vegas Gazette ran a biting story that ripped into Billy.

It pulled no punches, coloring him and his criminal cohorts as roving homicidal terrorists. But there was something else added to the story, a name that would resonate around the world. The Gazette called the leader of the murderous gang Billy the Kid. The Kid didn't mind the new moniker, but reading the rest of the story, he was insulted. He dashed off a letter to Governor Lew Wallace, claiming the Gazette story was utter nonsense. There was no gang. He was no leader. He didn't kill Deputy Carlyle. In fact, in recent months, he'd been firmly planted in Fort Sumner, making his living by good, honest card playing. He was being vilified, plain and simple. But Governor Wallace was in no mood to cut any more deals with the kid. He passed a letter on to the Gazette, which

promptly published and mocked it. The kid felt shocked and betrayed by Wallace once again. But Billy the Kid had bigger problems than bad press. Sheriff Pat Garrett was hot on his trail. And though Garrett had missed snaring him at the White Oaks confrontation, the death of Deputy Carlisle only fueled Garrett's determination to capture the kid once and for all. On December 23rd, 1880, Pat Garrett knew that Billy and a couple of his associates were hauled up at an abandoned one-room stone cabin in Stinking Springs, about 11 miles outside of Fort Sumner.

After dark, Garrett led his 13-man posse through snowdrifts under a bright moon, carefully approaching this small ramshackle structure. They waited in the freezing cold, listening to snoring. At dawn, Garrett saw a man in a sombrero step outside. Recognizing Billy's preferred choice of hat, the sheriff quickly shot him dead. But the man Garrett shot was not Billy the Kid, only one of his associates. Billy was still inside the cabin. And for the next few hours, the Kid and Garrett yelled back and forth, a negotiation that went from heated to almost congenial. By the afternoon, Billy and his crew had surrendered.

Over the next four months, the Kid waited for his indictment and trial. His capture made headlines as far away as Europe. He wrote more letters to Governor Wallace, pleading for clemency, all of which were ignored. On April 8, 1881, Billy the Kid was tried for the first-degree murder of Sheriff William Brady, the lawman who had been a puppet for Billy's nemesis, Jimmy Dolan. The proceedings in the city of Mesilla, New Mexico, were brief. In only two days, the jury returned with a guilty verdict. Five days later, on April 15, the Kid stood silently as the judge decreed

he be hanged by the neck until his body be dead. The date for his execution was set for Friday, May 13th. His executioner would be Sheriff Pat Garrett. To most observers, this seemed to be the end of the road for the kid. Under heavy guard, he was transported to await his fate in a jail cell in Lincoln, the very town that had launched him into infamy. Imagine the sun is setting on April 28, 1881, at the Wortley Hotel in Lincoln. You're a young Hispanic woman, working as a waitress in the hotel's small restaurant,

just across the street from the courthouse, which also contains a handful of jail cells on the second floor. You're busy clearing tables when one of your least favorite customers barks at you. Hey, how many times do I need to ask for my change? It's Deputy Bob Olinger. He eats here every night. He's a stocky fireplug of a man who bullies everyone, you included. You walk over and slap his change on the table. Took you long enough. I don't have time to be sitting around here all day, you know. Oh, really?

And what do you do that's so important? Where are you off to? I keep this town safe from people like that Billy the Kid across the street. You mean El Chavito. Why do you have to be so mean to him? El Chavito? Your precious El Chavito is rotten to the core. Billy's a killer, and he'll be dancing at the end of a rope in two weeks' time.

You know Billy's an outlaw, but as far as you're concerned, he's fighting a good fight against corrupt and powerful men like this deputy, men who just want to keep people like you down. Besides, you think Billy's a charming fellow. Oh, now, what's that? As gunshots ring out from across the street, Olinger leaps up and dashes out the door. You see a second-floor window of the courthouse open with a jolt, and there is El Chivito, Billy the Kid, brandishing a shotgun.

You have no idea what's happening, but you can hear him yelling. He smiles his lopsided grin as Olinger approaches below. Now, God darn it, Billy, you just turn around and go. A shotgun blast rings out and Olinger falls into the hard dirt of Main Street. Billy disappears back inside.

You run out into the street, along with a few others who've witnessed the scene. Olinger lies sprawled in the middle of the street, on his back, bleeding and motionless. The courthouse door bursts open, and out comes Billy onto the street, looking at the small crowd. He takes a quick look at Olinger, still in the dirt, and then turns back to the crowd. Now listen, people, I don't want to hurt anyone, but that's what's going to happen if you

get in my way. He jumps on a horse and spurs it in the ribs. The animal rears as Billy hangs on, still gripping his shotgun. Then he gallops down Main Street and disappears into the gathering darkness of nightfall. Despite the violence you've just seen, you smile at yourself. It seems like El Chivito is almost magical. Billy the Kid has escaped once again. Word of the Kid's daring, deadly escape from the Lincoln Jail in April 1881 traveled fast.

During his flight to freedom, he killed not only Bob Olinger, but a second deputy inside the courthouse. The Las Vegas Optic labeled the Kid the Daredevil Desperado and wrote that his name has long been the synonym of all that is malignant and cruel. Once again, the kid was making bold headlines and filling the pages of pulp magazines, cementing his status as a near mythical outlaw capable of anything. Telegraph wires buzzed the story around the country,

and soon around the world. The man who could not be held captive continued to slip the grasp of the law, and this time from the hangman's noose. And while most Anglos considered the kid to be a bloodthirsty killer, many in the Hispanic communities of the West still viewed him as a brave warrior fighting against the laws of the racist white man. He was committing crimes against the white economic power structure, white ranchers who they felt stole land from Hispanics. To them, El Chivito was a folk hero, a Robin Hood who could do no wrong. But Sheriff Pat Garrett did not share those views. He was a relentless man who did not like to look a fool. And now he was not only driven by duty, but by guilt. Another two of his deputies were dead.

If he'd been there, they might still be alive. Garrett wanted vengeance, and would not rest until Billy the Kid was not only captured, but killed. In the Pacific Ocean, halfway between Peru and New Zealand, lies a tiny volcanic island. It's a little-known British territory called Pitcairn, and it harboured a deep, dark scandal. There wouldn't be a girl on Pitcairn once they reach the age of 10

that would still avert it. It just happens to all of us. I'm journalist Luke Jones and for almost two years I've been investigating a shocking story that has left deep scars on generations of women and girls from Pitcairn. When there's nobody watching, nobody going to report it, people will get away with what they can get away with. In the Pitcairn trials I'll be uncovering a story of abuse and the fight for justice that has brought a unique, lonely Pacific island to the brink of extinction.

Listen to the Pitcairn Trials exclusively on Wondery+. Join Wondery in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. For more than two centuries, the White House has been the stage for some of the most dramatic scenes in American history. Inspired by the hit podcast American History Tellers, Wondery and William Morrow present the new book, The Hidden History of the White House. Each chapter will bring you inside the fierce power struggles, the world-altering decisions, and shocking scandals that have shaped our nation. You'll be there when the very foundations of the White House are laid in 1792, and you'll watch as the British burn it down in 1814.

Then you'll hear the intimate conversations between FDR and Winston Churchill as they make plans to defeat Nazi forces in 1941. And you'll be in the Situation Room when President Barack Obama approves the raid to bring down the most infamous terrorist in American history. Order The Hidden History of the White House now in hardcover or digital edition, wherever you get your books. On April 28th, 1881, after his brazen jailbreak, Billy the Kid rode west out of Lincoln and crossed the Rio Benito River on the edge of town. He knew he would have to rely on the kindness of friends if he was to survive.

But dodging the law was a lifestyle for the kid at this point, and he had a network of trusted comrades, especially in the Hispanic community. His friends urged him to flee south to Mexico, where he could easily disappear. But Billy decided to return to Fort Sumner, even though there he'd be within easy reach of Sherrod Pat Garrett.

Billy told compadres that he'd collect money he needed in Fort Sumner, even though there he'd be within easy reach of Sherritt Pat Garrett. Billy told compadres that he'd collect money he needed in Fort Sumner, and then he could cross the border. But it wasn't just money that drew Billy back to Fort Sumner. Billy's 16-year-old sweetheart, Paulita Maxwell, was there too, living with her brother Peter. There were rumors that Paulita was pregnant. Brother Peter was strongly against the relationship, and he and the kid had fallen out over it. But Billy hardly cared. He was young and in love. On the morning of April 30, 1881,

Governor Lew Wallace was at his desk in Santa Fe, pen in hand. His main duty on this day was one that brought him great satisfaction. He was signing William Bonney's death warrant. President Hayes had tasked Wallace with the ending of violence in Lincoln County, and that now rested on eliminating Billy the Kid. The more famous the Kid became, the more foolish Wallace looked in his inability to stop him. But now that was over. With a broad flourish, the governor signed the kid's fate. Just hours later, Wallace received a message, a telegraph consisting of one line,

Billy the Kid escaped from Lincoln yesterday evening, killing Deputy Sheriffs J.W. Bell and Bob Olinger. Wallace was furious. The governor quickly issued a notice upping the reward for the kid's capture to $1,500. Wallace knew the kid was fond of vengeance and had already threatened to go after him and Pat Garrett. So Wallace, the veteran Union Army general, began practicing his shooting that evening just in case. When the kid had escaped, Sheriff Pat Garrett was tending to the annual duty of collecting taxes throughout Lincoln County.

Like everyone else in authority, he had assumed he could finally rest easy. The kid was going nowhere except the gallows. Garrett got the news of the kid's escape on the same day as Wallace. The sheriff was relaxing in a saloon in White Oaks with his deputy. Garrett's first and only thought was simple. He was going to have to hunt down Billy all over again. But this time, the only outcome he could live with was killing the elusive young outlaw himself.

By early May, Billy had made it to Fort Sumner, keeping a low profile, hiding out with friends. Though to many it seemed a foolhardy move, it briefly threw Garrett off Billy's trail. Garrett's thought was that the kid surely had headed for Mexico. Tips came in that the kid was still in the Fort Sumner vicinity, but Garrett found that hard to believe. The sheriff gathered a posse and set out to pick up the kid's trail south, but with no success. He was good at hiding, and none of his confederates were talking. Garrett knew that the

more locals he questioned, the greater the likelihood that someone would tip off Billy about the investigation or help him hide in the many cow camps and Hispanic hamlets that dotted the county. Soon May turned into June, and the kid was still at large. His daring escape had grabbed headlines around the country, and now reporters added another angle, romance. That month, the Denver Tribune published a story stating that Billy was indeed in the Fort Sumner region, and he was there to be near his paramour, Paulina Maxwell. The media attention increased Sheriff Garrett's frustration. He continued his slow but steady hunt for the kid, and then in early July, he got lucky. He received a letter from a solid source

confirming that the kid was spending time at Pete Maxwell's house with Pete's sister, Paulita, just like the newspaper said. And the source went on, Pete was not happy about it. He had no desire to see his little sister in a union with a murdering outlaw. Pete had made his feelings clear to friends, and word had gotten around. He was in favor of removing the kid from the picture. And if Pat Garrett needed help capturing or killing the kid, then Pete Maxwell was willing to provide it. Imagine it's July 14th, 1881, just past midnight at Pete Maxwell's ranch outside Fort Sumner.

You're the county sheriff, and you've been on a vendetta to put an end to Billy the Kid for months. You hope that mission will be fulfilled tonight. You and two deputies have been staking out Maxwell's home for several hours, keeping a judicious distance, hiding among trees behind the house. But now it's time to move in. You've got to be careful. You're still not sure where Billy is, or even if he's here at all. All right, boys, you stay put here by the house. Lay low behind those

bushes. Keep quiet. If the kid is in there, we can't take any chances. I'm going to go inside and try and talk to Pete. Be ready for anything. The men nod. You can see their grim expressions in the bright moonlight. You make your way onto the broad porch, edging to the side door of the place. You enter a dark room and sit on the edge of the bed where Maxwell is sleeping. Pete. Pete. Wake up, it's Pat Garrett. Wake up!

Shh! It's Pat Garrett. I up! Shh, it's Pat Garrett. I need to know if the kid's around here somewhere. Oh, yeah, he's around. Uh, not sure where, nearby. Just outside, a hatless and shoeless man has stepped onto the porch. He's seen your men crouch nearby and has drawn his gun. From his body language, you can tell he's spooked and confused,

but you can't tell if it's the kid. The man enters the room through the same side door you just used, but doesn't see you. In the shadows, you still can't recognize him. He whispers words in Spanish to Maxwell. Can't ask, Pete. Can't es? Who are those men outside? Suddenly, Maxwell sits up and turns to you.

Well, that's him. The man in the shadows leaps back against the wall. He's seen you now, but has no clue who you are. Quien es? You grab your gun from its holster and level it. The man is hit and drops to the floor. You call through the door to your men. All right, that was the kid. I'm sure of it.

Think we got him. Your deputies rush into the bedroom as Maxwell lights a candle. A flickering light illuminates the face of the man on the floor with a bullet wound just above his heart. You recognize him immediately. That's him, boys. That's Billy the Kid. At long last, your hunt is over. Henry McCarty, Kid Androm. William Bonney, Billy the Kid. The celebrated outlaw known by so many names is dead. He was 21 years old.

Sheriff Pat Garrett's killing of Billy the Kid was ruled a justifiable homicide. The kid's body was laid out in a local carpenter's shop, washed, neatened up, and surrounded with candles. People arrived to pay respects, most of them Hispanic, many of them distraught women. On July 15, 1881, the kid was buried in the Fort Sumner Cemetery. The story of his violent demise quickly hit the telegraph wires and was again reported around the territory and the world, and again often embellished. The Santa Fe Weekly Democrat claimed that Billy was literally a demon from hell.

Immediately after the bullet killed him, the paper wrote, there was a strong odor of brimstone in the air and a dark figure with the wings of a dragon that emerged from the corpse and flew out the window. The paper in his former home of Silver City declared that the vulgar murderer and desperado known as Billy the Kid has met his just desserts at last. Within a few months of the funeral, there were at least five cheap Billy the Kid biographies for sale. But it was Pat Garrett who started to cement the kid's legend. Despite the celebration that surrounded Billy's death, Garrett took criticism for ambushing him.

There was talk he'd shot the kid in the back and had been hiding under the bed when he pulled the trigger. Even in the lawless West, such cowardly tactics weren't the fair and honorable way to kill a man. So in an effort to tell his version of the story, the sheriff hired a ghostwriter. In March of 1882, less than a year after Billy's death, a New Mexico publisher released The Authentic Life of Billy the Kid, the noted desperado of the Southwest, by Pat Garrett. It was a dramatic, gripping account that was riddled with inaccuracies. The book wasn't a huge seller initially,

but it became a major source for many subsequent works. But it wasn't just the story that changed. Lincoln County, home of the violence that created the kid's legend, also changed dramatically. By the mid-1880s, the arrival of trains and the telegraph finally gave lawmen the advantage over outlaws on horseback.

The murky facts of Billy the Kid's short, chaotic life have often been muddled with fiction. To some, he remains a folk hero. To others, he was the youthful victim of a difficult childhood who turned to crime for survival in a violent, unjust place. And still to others, he was a colorful, but condemnable thief and murderer who got what he deserved. But whoever the real Billy the Kid was,

he remains one of the most beloved icons of that mythic American frontier, the Wild West. From Wondery, this is episode three of Billy the Kid from American History Tellers. On our next episode, I speak with Chris Wimmer, creator and host of the podcast Legends of the Old West. We'll discuss some of the myths and misinformation surrounding Billy the Kid, how he's been portrayed in movies and media,

and the challenges of telling the real story of the young man behind the fabled gunslinger. If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. If you'd like to learn more about Billy the Kid, we recommend Billy the Kid, The Endless Ride by Michael Wallace, and To Hell on a Fast Horse by Mark Lee Gardner. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham for Airship. Audio editing by Molly Bach. Sound design by Derek Behrens. Music by Lindsey Graham.

This episode is written by Peter Gilstrap, edited by Dorian Marina. Our senior producer is Andy Herman. Executive producers are Jenny Lauer-Beckman and Marsha Louie for Wondery. I'm Tristan Redman, and as a journalist, I've never believed in ghosts. But when I discovered that my wife's great-grandmother was murdered in the house next door to where I grew up, I started wondering about the inexplicable things that happened in my childhood bedroom. When I tried to find out more, I discovered that someone who slept in my room after me, someone I'd never met, was visited by the ghost of a faceless woman. So I started digging into the murder in my wife's family,

and I unearthed family secrets nobody could have imagined. Ghost Story won Best Documentary Podcast at the 2024 Ambies, and is a Best True Crime nominee at the British Podcast Awards 2024. Ghost Story is now the first ever Apple Podcast series essential. Each month, Apple Podcast editors spotlight one series that has captivated listeners with masterful storytelling, creative excellence, and a unique creative voice and vision. To recognize Ghost Story being chosen as the first series essential, Wondery has made it ad-free for a limited time only on Apple Podcasts. If you haven't listened yet, head over to Apple Podcasts to hear for yourself.