The Top 5 Most Notorious Outlaws (5 page)

Like many icons of the Wild West, much of the legend of Jesse James is wrapped up in myth. He lived in an era when Americans on the East Coast clamored for tales of the West, whether the tales were true or not. However, unlike some western icons that were tagged as being outlaws far more dangerous than they really were, Jesse James was built up to be a more chivalrous bandit than he was in real life. The fact is that Jesse James was a cold-blooded killer who did not, contrary to legend, steal from the rich to give to the poor. He robbed the rich and poor alike, all for his own personal gain.

It took very little time for Jesse’s family to cash in on his name. His mother was offered $10,000 by a promoter for her son’s body, presumably to put the deceased outlaw on public display. Zerelda gave it some consideration, but opted instead to have Jesse buried in her front yard where she could watch over his grave. When sightseers and the curious came by to visit Jesse’s final resting place, Zerelda sold them pebbles from the gravesite for a few cents each. When she ran out of pebbles, she replenished her supply from the alley behind her house.

With the help of John Newman Edwards, Frank James surrendered to the governor of Missouri five months after Jesse died. He was jailed and tried for a robbery in Missouri and another in Alabama but was acquitted of both crimes. Frank made some attempt to profit from the James family name when he and Cole Younger bought into the Buckskin Bill Wild West Show, and the name was even changed to the Cole Younger and Frank James Wild West Show in 1903. Some say that Frank had to quit due to poor health, while other historians say that the show was a disaster and they demanded that they be allowed to quit, with Younger resorting to pulling a gun on the owner to get the deal done. Either way, Frank eventually moved back to his family farm with his mother, where he gave tours for a quarter and sold picture postcards of his own likeness.

Zee James was offered money to write a book about her husband, but despite needing the money she refused to and would end up dying poor. Jesse’s son did, though, writing,
Jesse James, My Father
in 1899. The first movie about Jesse appeared in 1908 when “The James Boys of Missouri” was released. The film was 18 minutes long, and taking into account that Jesse was still a sympathetic figure to many, the portrayal of him as an outlaw was done lightly. It was also a successful play for several years. This began a string of dozens of movie and television portrayals of Jesse or characters based on him that continued into the 21st century. Of all of the movies about him, Jesse’s descendants claim that
The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Bob Ford
, starring Brad Pitt as Jesse in the last four months of his life, is the most accurate portrayal. The movie was adapted from a novel of the same name. Included in the film is the fact that Bob Ford went to New York to reenact the killing of Jesse James onstage, with his brother Charlie playing the role of Jesse.

In the wake of his notorious life and death, Jesse James was portrayed in several different was. Some viewed James as a symbol of resistance against government and industry, turning him into some sort of pre-Progressive Era rebel. Others viewed him as a symbol of the antebellum South whose life of crime was more about avenging the South and their lost way of life.

A 1901 dime novel about Jesse James

Jesse’s name and likeness have been used to sell dime novels, comic books, and any number of collectibles. Items from lunch boxes to replica badges to shot glasses are highly desirable. Even reproductions of photographs of Jesse in a casket are easily found. In fact, the Jesse James Wax Museum in Stanton, Missouri offers tourists an array of Jesse James souvenirs, while keeping alive the debunked legend that Jesse faked his death and lived until 1948. Northfield, Minnesota has kept their link to Jesse’s life alive with the Defeat of Jesse James Days festival, complete with a parade, an arts and crafts festival, and regular reenactments of the bank robbery.

It has taken time for some Americans to relinquish the image of Jesse James as a type of hero, which speaks to the deep wounds of the Civil War and the battle over the future of slavery as much as it does for Jesse’s character. That Jesse lived and made his name as an outlaw during a time when there was such fascination with the West helped fuel his own need for attention and, in many respects, validation. Add into the mix the belief by those that sympathized with the Confederacy that he was a hero and the result is a legend.

However, that time has largely passed, and even as James remains perhaps the most famous outlaw of the West, glorified portrayals of him as heroic outlaw are now more about profiting off an interesting story than historical accuracy. New generations of Americans have come to view the antebellum South, the Civil War and the post-war bushwhacking much differently. In that context, Jesse James was hardly a hero, and despite his attempts to portray himself to the contrary, he was not a victim. He was caught up in an era of change and did not like the change he saw.

Despite this, James remains an important figure of American history, not because of the banks and railroads he robbed or the people he killed. The lesson is in his motives. He was not a rogue bandit, but a man who truly believed he was fighting for a righteous cause. He was far from the only one who felt that way in post-Civil War America. It is his link to America’s past that makes Jesse James an important icon of the West.

Bell, Bob Boze.
 
“Shoot-out at Hanska Slough
.
”
True West Magazine
. August 6, 2012.

Drago, Harry Sinclair.
Outlaws on Horseback.
Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press. 1998.

Murdoch, David H.
The American West: The Invention of a Myth.
Wales: Welsh Academic Press. 2001.

Yeatman, Ted P.  
Frank and Jesse James: The Story Behind the Legend.
Nashville: Cumberland House Publishing, Inc. 2000.

‘’I wasn’t the leader of any gang. I was for Billy all the time.”

Very few facts about William Henry McCarty’s life are indisputable, so it’s only fitting that even his place and date of birth are up for debate. That’s because no known records of his birth have survived, if they ever existed at all. Some say that Henry, as he was known, was born in the teeming slums of New York City on approximately November 23, 1859. Some even believe that William was not his first name, and that Billy the Kid may have been born Patrick McCarty, Michael McCarty, or Edward McCarty

What is known is that his mother was Catherine McCarty, a survivor of the Irish potato famine that swept over Ireland in the 1840s and left famine and disease in its wake. Like many of the Irish, Catherine sailed for the U.S., in search of a better life. It’s unknown whether McCarty was Catherine’s maiden name or whether she had taken that name upon marriage.

If Henry did begin his life in New York, the conditions there were better than Ireland, although not by much. The Irish neighborhoods, particularly the notorious Five Points and Mulberry Bend districts, were rampant with alcoholism, crime, disease, rats, and gang wars. This was also the era of William Tweed, best known as Boss Tweed, who was the head one of the most corrupt governmental regimes in New York City history. The Irish were an integral part of Tweed’s strategy, as he openly bought their votes to stack the government with hand-chosen officials. Few Irish could turn away such easy money, and they naturally viewed Tweed as their hero. Corruption ruled New York for much of the latter stages of the 19th century, and with the crime that came with it, Catherine could not be blamed if she decided that New York was not the place for her or her children. It is known that she gave birth to another son, Joseph, but it has not been established if he was Henry’s older or younger brother.

George Catlin’s famous painting of the Five Points, 1827

Another possible location for Henry’s birth is Indiana, based on the fact that the first recorded address for the McCartys is in Indianapolis. Next to Catherine’s name in the Indianapolis City Directory for 1868 is the notation that she was the widow of Michael McCarty, who apparently was father to Henry and Joseph. Nothing definitive is known about Mr. McCarty, who had a fairly common name for the time, making it extremely difficult to pinpoint when and where he may have died.

More is known about William Henry Harrison Antrim from Huntsville, Indiana. Antrim was honorably discharged from the Union Army in October 1862 and returned to his native Indiana, where somewhere along the way he met Henry’s mother. Some speculation is that he was a messenger for Merchant’s Union Express and met the widow while delivering a package to her house. Antrim, 12 years younger than Catherine McCarty, started to court her soon after their meeting, becoming “Uncle Billy” to the McCarty boys.

The newly formed family left Indiana and went to Wichita, Kansas in the summer of 1870. Following the Civil War, Wichita was a rough and tumble frontier town that would soon experience a population boom due thanks to the railroad. Millions of cattle passed through Wichita on the railroad on their way to the slaughterhouses north of Kansas. Less than a decade before, Wichita had been the Osage tribe territory. When Henry McCarty lived there, he saw a wide variety of characters from Indians to buffalo hunters to soldiers.

Life on this part of the prairie was not easy, and the weather extremes in Kansas presented their own challenges for people who lived in dugouts or wood cabins, as many did in Wichita. There was also very little work for a woman who did not plan to be a dance hall girl or a prostitute. Catherine McCarty had no intention of doing either of those things, but she was determined to give her sons a better life than she had in Ireland, so she opened a laundry service on Main Street.

As it turned out, business was brisk, and it helped McCarty and Antrim buy land on the outskirts of town. For $200, they bought just under 200 acres and cultivated seven of them for fruit trees. Antrim, likely with the help of the young McCarty boys, also built a house on the land, complete with a storm cellar. The location provided a bit of distance between Henry’s family and the gambling, dancing, drinking, and violence of Wichita, but likely not enough to shield Henry from the lawlessness that was typical of cow towns of the era. Towns throughout the West walked a fine line between keeping some semblance of order while not disrupting the flow of cash into local saloons, gambling halls, and brothels.

Within about a year of arriving in Wichita, Catherine started showing signs of tuberculosis. It was a common killer of the 19th century and little could be done for those who had it. The dusty air of the prairie was not helpful to anyone with a persistent respiratory illness, which may have been the reason that Catherine uprooted her family from Wichita just when it seemed as if they were settling in. Those who could afford it, such as Western icon Doc Holliday, headed to the springs of Colorado and New Mexico. Those who could not afford the treatment at the springs settled for just being in the climate, which may have been the case for Catherine McCarty. Historians can only speculate, though, as her family’s exact location between 1871 and early 1873 is unknown.

It is known that by 1873, Henry McCarty made his way to the state where he became known as Billy the Kid. That’s because Catherine McCarty and William Antrim were married in the adobe brick First Presbyterian Church in Santa Fe on March 1, 1873. It is believed that Antrim’s sister was living at the Exchange Hotel on the corner of the Santa Fe Plaza, and the family may have lived with her when they first arrived. Years later, locals claimed to have seen Henry washing dishes in the hotel kitchen and playing piano in the lobby. This would not be surprising because Henry always enjoyed music, an interest instilled in him by his mother. He also liked singing and dancing, which there was plenty of in New Mexico.

Furthermore, Henry had no trouble adapting to all aspects of his new surroundings and embracing the Mexican culture. He appreciated the spicy food and the colorful style of dress, especially the sombreros and beaded moccasins that he wore. Within months of arriving, he spoke Spanish like a native. These would all become hallmarks of Billy the Kid, and often the first things his contemporaries noticed about him.

Meanwhile, William Antrim, like many men of the era, was interested in striking it rich in the mines, and he soon moved the family to the southern region of New Mexico to the mining town of Silver City. For the first time in their lives, Henry and his brother, Josie, attended school when Dr. J. Webster opened the first public school in town on January 5, 1874. The town also hosted regular
bailes
, or dances, and when Catherine was feeling well enough, she and Henry attended them together. Henry moved easily when he danced and caught the eye of several young senoritas who were also there to dance the waltzes, polkas, or regional dances of the area. The locals recalled that Henry usually had a smile on his face.

Shortly after Henry started school, his mother’s health began to deteriorate. She had experienced a reprieve from the debilitating cough, but it returned due to the smoke from the smelting furnaces of the silver mines. Catherine made a last-ditch attempt to buy herself more time and went to Hudson’s Hot Springs for treatment. Mary Hudson, the owner’s wife, became Catherine’s friend and recalled how fond Catherine was of her boys. With his mother physically unable to supervise him and his stepfather spending more and more time away in the mines, Henry began to get into trouble. He and a friend devised a plan to steal costume jewelry from a local merchant and sell it in Mexico, but the plan was thwarted when Henry’s friend became scared and told his father, who scolded both of the boys.

By the fall, Catherine was near death, and Clara Truesdell, who had graduated from nursing school in Chicago, took care of her every day. William Antrim was rarely home and, when Catherine died on September 16, 1874, he was not there, nor was he present for her funeral the next day. Before Catherine died, she asked Clara to watch out for her boys. Louis Abraham, who helped Henry and Josie dig their mother’s grave in the town cemetery, would later say that he was glad she died without knowing the trouble that would come to her son.

At 14, Henry was for all intents and purposes an orphan. His stepfather was either unwilling or unable to care for his stepsons. Exactly what happened to Henry’s brother Josie is unclear, but Antrim sold the family house and Henry spent some time living with the Truesdell family. He helped out in the kitchen of the hotel that the family owned to earn room and board and was reportedly one of the few boys that worked there that never stole anything. However, some sort of domestic disturbance resulted in Henry having to move out and into a boarding house.

Long after Henry was dead, with the myth of Billy the Kid on the rise, the stories about the murders and assorted other crimes that he was supposedly responsible for in Grant County grew. Whether it was killing a kitten with his pocketknife or stoning a Chinese man to death, Billy the Kid often got the blame. Much, if not all of it, was either greatly exaggerated or simply a lie. It may have helped sell dime novels or newspapers if Billy the Kid was linked to a crime, but in many cases, it simply was not true.

It is true, though, that Henry made the acquaintance of a petty thief named George Schaefer while staying at the boarding house in Silver City. Schaefer, nicknamed Sombrero Jack, liked Henry and let him tag along with him in the saloons and gambling halls. Likely eager for a parental figure, Henry willingly followed Sombrero Jack’s lead, including his plan to rob Charlie Sun’s laundry service. Sun was a Chinese immigrant who was also a regular target of taunting and harassment by the local boys.

On September 4, 1875, Henry served as the lookout while Sombrero Jack stole blankets, clothes, and two loaded revolvers from Sun’s laundry. Sombrero Jack stowed some of the goods in a pit in nearby Georgetown, then offered Henry some of a share of it in exchange for smuggling it all back into Silver City. When the boarding house owner was cleaning Henry’s room a few days later, she found the stolen property, which included one of the guns, and called Sheriff Harvey Whitehill.

Whitehill was aware that Henry didn’t have parents to watch over him, but he had previously detained Henry for stealing cheese and now wanted to teach him a lesson. Thus, Whitehill arrested him on the spot.  Chances are, he was only going to let Henry sit in the jailhouse for a day or two to think about what he had done, then take him home since his wife told him to bring the boy home for breakfast.  He didn’t get the chance, though, because after two days in jail, on September 25, Henry escaped.  Using his powers of persuasion, a guard allowed Henry to spend some time in the jailhouse corridor, out of his cell. After being left alone for about 20 minutes, a man who had been standing nearby confirmed that he saw the skinny teenager climb out of the chimney. Henry was now a wanted man.

When Billy the Kid became a household name, the legend became that he had fled Silver City because he had killed a man there. That legend was refuted by Whitehill, who later wrote an account of his time as a frontier law man in Silver City. Whitehill wrote about the two offenses Billy the Kid was arrested for, while also noting he was an affable kid who had participated in the crimes more out of a necessity than because he was a hard criminal. According to Whitehill, the kill The Kid was credited with by the rumors were completely baseless.