Here's an article recently published written by Drew Gomber. I think it's a great article and thought I would share it with the rest of you.

http://www.ruidosonews.com/artman/publish/Gomber_3-19.shtml

The various deaths of Billy the Kid
By Drew Gomber/For Vámonos
Mar 19, 2004, 07:30 am


Pat Garrett killed Billy the Kid on the night of July 14, 1881, a little before midnight, in the bedroom of rancher Pete Maxwell.

Well, that’s what Pat said, anyway. The folks over in Hico, Texas, have a different version, claiming that it wasn’t Billy who was killed, but rather another rustler named Billy Barlow who was buried in the Kid’s place. And the Kid? Well he grew to old age in – you guessed it – Hico, Texas. The man in Hico who claimed he was the Kid was Ollie “Brushy Bill” Roberts.

John Miller, of Arizona, claimed to be Billy, too. But it seems to be Brushy Bill’s stories that have caught the public attention. Why? Well, primarily, because people just plain don’t like their heroes to die. For that reason, they frequently will pounce upon any story – no matter how ridiculous – that tells them that their hero did not die as reported, but actually went on to live a long, and usually happy, life.

Curiously, most of the people who conspiracy theorists claim were not killed as reported were either desperadoes or rock stars. And it’s a pretty big list, too. Billy, Jesse James, Bill Longley, even Black Jack Ketchum (who was accidentally decapitated in front of a large crowd) were all reported to have escaped the Grim Reaper. On the rock star list we’ve got Elvis and Jim Morrison for the two biggies and then some lesser lights. The point is that despite all evidence to the contrary, people will believe whatever they damn well choose.

But today, let’s talk about the numerous demises of Billy the Kid.

The Garrett/Poe story
Pat Garrett and his deputy John Poe each gave an account of the Kid’s death at the time and they were in perfect agreement. Too perfect, actually. Even the minor details of their stories seem to match up – one gets the definite impression that the two men sat down together to make sure they had it straight – which is, in itself, suspicious.

According to this version – the one generally accepted by historians – Garrett and his little two-man posse (that consisted of Poe and Kip McKinney) arrived at the Maxwell house with the purpose of procuring information on the whereabouts of the Kid.

Leaving the two deputies on Maxwell’s porch, Garrett entered Maxwell’s bedroom, as Pete had already retired for the night. Sitting on the edge of Maxwell’s bed to talk, Garrett was unaware that, almost as he had entered the room, the figure of a young man had rounded the corner and headed for the Maxwell house.

Poe and McKinney, neither of whom knew the Kid by sight, watched as the figure draw closer. As he did so, they could see that in one hand he had a gun, and in the other, a knife. The figure came through the gate and stepped up on the porch when he suddenly realized that there were two men in the dark. Pointing the pistol at them, the Kid inquired “Quien es?” (“Who is it” in Spanish). Poe got to his feet, but as he did so, one of his spurs stuck in a loose board on the porch and he began stumbling comically about. The Kid failed to see the humor. “Quien es?” he inquired again, alarm beginning to creep into his voice as he began to back into the very door through which Garrett had passed just moments before.

Once inside the room, the Kid turned toward Maxwell’s bed and inquired (again in Spanish) “Pete, who are those fellows outside?”

Garrett recognized the voice. Pulling his pistol from the awkward position he had placed it in when he sat on the bed (basically, underneath him), he spun around to face the door, dropping to one knee as he did so. The Kid, who had come up to within a foot of Garrett, leapt back, bringing up his pistol and inquiring again as to who was there in the dark.

Billy’s hesitation proved to be a fatal error. Garrett’s first bullet hit him just under the heart, killing him more or less instantly. The second missed entirely, not that it made any difference.

In any case, Garrett was not about to hang around to find out. Bolting from the room, he was followed closely by Pete Maxwell, dragging his sheets behind him. (Prior to that night, Pete was locally known as “Don Pedro” – a sign of respect. After that night, he was known as “Don Shootme”).

The story goes on to tell how it was that they finally went back in after making sure that the wily Kid was not playing possum, and essentially, that is Garrett’s version of the death of Billy the Kid.

Brushy Bill
According to Hico’s Brushy Bill Roberts, what really happened was he (Brushy Bill) sent another rustler – Billy Barlow – in his place, and it was Barlow who Garrett killed. Brushy then took advantage of the mistake and vanished, starting a new life for himself.
Now, there are some major problems with Garrett’s story, but they don’t even compare with Brushy Bill’s! For starters, who was Billy Barlow? In all the annals of the Lincoln County War, all the newspaper stories, all the stories, in both legend and reality – of Billy the Kid – Billy Barlow makes no appearance save in the story that Brushy Bill told.

The Roberts family Bible says that Brushy Bill was born in 1879. Wow! He really was a kid when Garrett shot him! A recent Discovery Channel special had several of the folks from Hico on it, and while they clearly believe what they say, the fact is that they aren’t saying much. The consensus, as far as I could tell, was that because he “walked a whole lot straighter” than most people, and because he knew “too much” about “horses, guns and lawlessness,” he was Billy.

There was one gentleman who commented that after “sightings” of Billy, the governor of New Mexico issued a “warrant.” The warrant he referred to looks more like a wanted poster than a warrant, but the fact is, it is neither. It is a warning from vigilantes to some local ne’er-do-wells in Las Vegas, New Mexico, one of whom called himself Billy the Kid, to basically, “get while the getting is good” as they used to say.

The fact is, after the death of the real Billy the Kid, there were several young “wannabes” who called themselves “Billy the Kid.” The most notable was a young fellow named Billy Claiborne in Tombstone who had the good sense to vacate the lot today known as “The OK Corral” when he saw the Earps and Doc Holliday approaching. However, whatever sense he had seems to have vanished by 1882, when he challenged the ever-deadly “Buckskin Frank” Leslie to a gunfight. Claiborne lost – dramatically and terminally.

But I digress. At any rate, after any serious study, it is difficult to accept Brushy Bill’s claims as being anything but the rather sad musings and wishful thinking of a lonely old man.

The McKinney version
Kip McKinney, the third posseman, didn’t say a word at the time. It was not until about 20 years later that he came forward, telling his story to a wandering Englishman named Frederick Grey, who wrote them down in a little-known book, published in 1912, called “Seeking Fortune in America.”

McKinney’s version is radically different than the Garrett/Poe version. And it is interesting to note that McKinney waited decades before coming forward.
According to Kip, they did not go to Pete Maxwell’s bedroom at all, but rather that of his little sister, Paulita, who was Billy’s querida. Upon entering, they tied up and gagged Paulita. Then, they waited.

A short time later, the Kid rode up and walked inside. Garrett rose up from behind a couch and opened fire. The Kid, like in the Garrett/Poe story, died almost instantly.

Who to believe
In the end, we must go with the documented version, which is to say, the Garrett/Poe version. Well, publicly, at least. In the study of history, particularly the history of the American West, all versions of every story, no matter how ridiculous they may appear, have to be investigated. And thoroughly, too. But in the end, especially with something as confusing and controversial as the death of Billy the Kid, we have to each make up our own mind.

As I said, we must go with the documented version, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t point out that other versions may make more sense.

The Brushy Bill story, after much consideration by this writer, has to be discarded. In the end, there are absolutely no facts to indicate that even a part of Brushy Bill’s story was true. As with so many other conspiracy theories, there are just a lot of questions — and not even particularly well-informed ones at that. One of the most common is “Why didn’t they take a picture of the body?” (As though this were proof that Garrett did not kill him).

To answer that question, we must address the facts: 1) On the night of July 14, 1881, there were only four photographers in the entire Territory of New Mexico, (at least who we know of). 2) It was July — anything dead needed planting pretty quick. 3) Most significantly, it was never a common practice to photograph dead outlaws, regardless of what the movies tell us. 4) By the 1890s, the art of photography had come a long way, and it was then that they took most of the pictures of dead outlaws that we see today. Frequently the pictures were taken for purposes of identification so that someone could collect a reward. Or, as in the case of the Daltons’ disastrous Coffeyville, Kansas, raid, both dead outlaws and photographers were handy. You can pretty much de-construct the rest of the Brushy supporters’ “facts” in the same methodical fashion.

The McKinney story, on the other hand, has what might be the faint ring of truth to it. While there are many holes in the Garrett/Poe story, the McKinney version is pretty straightforward. It makes sense. Garrett’s technique had always been to lay in ambush – that was how he got O’Folliard and Bowdre. It would be more logical to go directly to the room of the young lady who everyone knew the Kid was trying to get to go away with him. After the shooting, it would have also made sense to invent the other story — to protect both Paulita’s reputation and the posse’s. And that could also account for all the confusion that has come down to us today.

But in the end, as previously stated, we have to go with Pat’s story. We have to do this because all the available evidence – and there may be more coming to us at any time, so it is a long way from being written in stone – tells us that Garrett killed Billy just as he said he did.

Consequently, at the end of the day, like so many other things in life, you have to make up your own mind. The real trick is to be able to convince others that you are right.

Sources: High Noon in Lincoln by Robert Utley; A Documentary History of the Lincoln County War and The West of Billy the Kid both by Frederick Nolan, and Seeking Fortune in America by Frederick Grey.