Black Bart, The Gentleman Outlaw and Poet

While a known outlaw during his life, the name of Charles “Black Bart” Bowles won’t ring a bell for most people.

And yet his style, sophistication and non-violence (it is said he never fired a gun during his robberies) make him one of the most unique robbers of the old west.

Up until the American civil War, his life was rather unremarkable. He did some gold digging during the 1840s, and settled in Decatur, Illinois during the 1850s (a time during which he married and had 4 children).

The civil War was probably the event that would influence Bowles the most during his life. He enlisted in August 1862 and was assigned to the 116th Regiment Illinois Infantry. As an exemplary soldier, he had risen from private to Sergeant within a year.

During his “tour of duty”, Bowles participated in many important battles of the American Civil War: He fought in the Central Mississippi Campaign, he was at Vicksburg (which is where he was promoted to sergeant), Missionary ridge, Sherman’s march to the sea and many others. He was discharged from the army on June 7th 1865 and returned to his farm.

The 3 years of war had given him a thirst from adventure however, and he could just not stand living on a farm anymore…By 1867, he left his wife and children on their farm and was headed to California. He regularly sent letters to his wife until 1871. In August of that year, she received a letter from him for the last time. After she heard nothing anymore, she supposed he must have died somewhere out there in California.

This last letter contained a sentence that, in retrospect, foreshadowed what was about to happen. He mentioned that there had been an incident with some Wells and Fargo employees, and he vowed to get back to them.

On July 26, 1875,that’s exactly what happened, when the Stagecoach that went from Sonora to Milton was held up by a man with a flour sack over his head. The man was dressed in a long leather jacket and carried a double-barreled shotgun. He was polite and just asked the stagecoach driver to throw down the box with money, which contrasted starkly with the foul language most outlaws used.

A few months later, he robbed the stagecoach from North San Juan to Marysville. He informed the driver that 3 other men were in the hills, and they had rifles. The driver saw the rifles protrude from between rocks and gave the money. Black bart Fled the scene (on foot, as he was supposedly quite scared of horses!). When the driver investigated the area later, he found the “guns” whith which he was threatened: sticks (this was probably an idea Black Bart got from his civil war days, when the Confederates managed to block a numerically superior Union army by painting hollowed out trees and passing them off as artillery. This is known as using “Quaker Guns”).

Another robbery was done on June 2, 1876 but it was rather inconsequential.

The one that really started his legend was the one he committed on August 3, 1877 on the stage from Point Arena to Duncan’s Mill in Sonoma Country. While he didn’t really gain much of it (300$ and a check for 305$, which he never cashed for obvious reasons), it gained him notoriety when an armed posse went back to the site of the robbery for clues and found a paper with a poem on it, pinned with a stone, atop a tree stump.

“I’ve labored long and hard for bread

For Honor and for riches

But on my corns too long you’ve tred

You fine haired sons of Bitches

Black Bart

The PO8

Driver, give my respects to our friend, the other driver,

But I really had a notion to hang my old disguise hat on his weather eye.

Respectfully, BB.”

On July 25,1878, Black Bart left another poem:

“Here I lay me down to sleep

To wait the coming morrow

Perhaps success perhaps defeat

And Everlasting Sorrow

Let come what will I’ll try it on

My condition can’t be worse

And if theres money in that box

Tis munny in my purse

Black Bart

The PO8 “

Black bart was really getting known now, and during each of his robberies he made sure it was original:

- At one time he says to a woman passenger “No, don’t get out. I never bother the passengers”. (This is sometimes quoted as “No ma’am, I don’t rob the passengers. I’m only after Wells Fargo)

- On October 2nd, 1878, he was taking a picnic on the roadside at the moment he was stopping the stagecoach he was going to rob.

- During a later robbery, he jokes with the driver “Sure hope you have a lot of Gold in that strongbox, ‘cos I’m nearly out of money.”

- At another time, a driver asked him “how much did you make?”. BB stoically answers: “realy not much for the chances I take.”

Ever since the second poem, Black Bart has a man called James B.Hume on his trail, who offers a 800* reward for the capture of Black Bart.

With Hume on his trail, Bowles still managed to rob more than 20 coaches.

The last robbery he committed was the one who would ultimately lead to his arrest, and it occurred on November 3, 1883

On the coach from Sonora to Milton, in Calaveras County.

The driver of this coach, Reason McConnel, had taken a 19-year old with him, who wanted to hunt small game along the path of the coach. This 19-year old, named Jimmy Rolleri, left the coach shortly before the hold-up to go a little bit further from the path, with hopes of catching some game. Bart noticed someone was missing (since a coach had always someone riding shotgun). McConnel truthfully told him he went hunting. Bart then sent him away with his horses. By the time McConnell found Jimmy, they decided to go back up to the coach, where they saw Bart hatcheting the strong box. They took a couple of shots at him, forcing him to run. From a few signs of blood they found afterwards, they knew they’d hit him at least once.

By making him flee, they’d also forced him to leave behind some belongings. One of these was a handkerchief, and it was this that would spell the end of Black Bart’s criminal career. On this handkerchief there was a laundry mark “FXO7”.

It took one week of searching but it was matched. Hume and his team went to Bowles address, and finally arrested him.” Even there, Black Bart remained his polite and charming self. Hume reported that he “exhibited genuine wit under most trying circumstances. Extremely proper and polite in behavior, eschews profanity.”

He was sentenced to six years in San Quentin, and he served out his sentence as a model prisoner. He took up contact with his wife again and received regular mail, even though he had no visitors in prison.

After 4 years and 2 months, he was released on January 21, 1888. When a reporter asked him if he would ever commit a crime, he smiled and said “No, dear sir, I am through with crime.” The same reporter then asked him if he would still write poems. In a display of his trademark with, Bowles answered: “now young man didn’t you hear me when I said I would commit no more crimes?”

Bowles kept on being shadowed by Wells Fargo and ultimately decided to disappear. When Wells Fargo found his trace, thanks to witness reports, they found an empty room with a suitcase. This contained some food and a few neckties and cuffs. Since this is still Black Bart we’re talking about, he left a joke for Hume: the clothes in the suitcase all bore the laundry mark FXO7…

By 1892, Mary Boles listed herself as the widow of Charles Boles. There was supposedly an obituary for Civil War Veteran Charles E.Boles, in a 1917 New York newspaper. It might or might not be Black Bart. If it was, he would have been 88 years old.

Whatever happened to Black Bart after February 28, 1888 (when he was seen for the last time) we’ll never know for sure, but however it may be, he has already secured his place in the pantheon of the legends of the Old west.

The Battle at Hampton Roads: the First clash between IronClad ships

While Ironclads were not totally new during the American Civil War (the French had launched the first Ironclad ship “La gloire” in 1856.The British built two ironclads in 1859, and decided by 1861 that the entire fleet should be replaced by this new kind of ships), it was the USS Monitor and the CSS Virginia that had the dubious honor of being the first Ironclads to battle in 1862.

At the start of the war, Confederate secretary of the Navy Stephen Mallory understood that the CSA would never be able to compete with the Union on a naval field. So his idea was to build only a few armoured ships that would technically be superior to the Union ships.

The first ship that was selected to become converted to an Ironclad was the USS Merrimack, a ship that was supposed to be destroyed during the Union’s failed attempt to destroy Portsmouth harbor (so that it would not fall in Confederate hands). The Merrymack was damaged, but it was found good enough to be converted. On may 30 1861, the wreck was salvaged and conversion began.

The CSS Virginia, formerly known as the Merrymac

However, the conversion of the Merrimack was one of the CSA’s worst kept secrets, and the Union Congress soon ordered the construction of Ironclads too. A few designs were proposed, but ultimately, it was the “Monitor”, a design of Swedish-born John Ericsson that was selected to become the Union’s first Ironclad warship.

the deck of the USS Monitor

By 1862, both ships were commissioned within one week of each other. The Mrerymack, now rechristened as the CSS Virginia, was commissioned on February 17,1862 and it’s Union counterpart on 25 December 1862.

On 8 March 1862, both ships would see their first action.

The CSS Virginia was sent into action that day to break the Union Blockade. The ship, commanded by captain Franklin Buchanan, met up with other confederate ships: the CSS Patrick Henry, the CSS Jamestown, the CSS Beaufort, the CSS Raleigh and the CSS Teaser. As soon as they arrived at the Union blockade (which consisted of 5 ships and several support vessels), the Virginia headed straight for the Union ship USS Cumberland. The USS Congress and the USS Cumberland immediately opened fire on the CSS Virginia, but the effectiveness of ironclads was immediately proven as the cannonballs bounced of the Virginia’s plating. After being rammed by the Virginia, the Cumberland sunk rapidly, taking 121 crewmembers with her.

The battle could have changed radically here, as the Virginia’s ram initially remained stuck in the sinking vessels’ hull, almost taking the heavy metal ship with it…The Virginia managed to break lost, at the cost of her ram.

The Virginia, together with the other confederate ships, now turned it’s attention now to the Congress. The latter stood it’s ground but had to surrender in front of superior firepower. Captain Buchanan allowed the crew of the Congress to be evacuated but ultimately shot the ship (with many crew still on it) after the Virginia was fired upon by a Union coastal battery. The Congress caught fire and ultimately sank.

the Cumberland being sank by the CSS Virginia (painting: F. Newman)

By the end of the day, the battle was a disaster for the Union: 400 sailors had died, whereas the CSA had lost only two men.

The CSS Virginia used the calm of the night to perform repairs of the battle damage it had sustained. It’s about at this time that the USS Monitor arrived at Hampton roads.

On the morning of the 9th March, the Virginia moved out and went for the attack. The target was the USS Minnesota, which was aground. Their path to their target was blocked however by a strange vehicle (which one sailor mockingly called a “cheese on a raft”).

The commanding officer of the Virginia (captain Buchanan was wounded in the battle the day before, so his second in command, Roger Jones, had taken over) didn’t immediately understand that the Monitor was, in fact, an Ironclad, but he did see that he had to fight his way past it to engage the Minnesota. The exact nature of the “cheese on a raft” would become clear to him soon enough. The Virginia shot at the Monitor, missed completely and actually hit the Minnesota. The latter responded by firing it’s broadsides at the Confederate Ironclad.

The battle that ensured last for the better part of five hours and was technically inconclusive. While the Monitor had an edge concerning speed and maneuverability, neither ship had enough firepower to pierce the hull of it’s opponent.

The end of the battle came when a confederate shell hit the command post of the Monitor, sending shrapnel into the “cockpit”. Union Captain John Worden was partially blinded by the incoming shrapnel. The monitor temporarily retreated until the replacing officer could take over his place (only one person at a time could look out from the command post).

The Virginia, believing the Union ship had given up, returned to Norfolk for repairs.

The Battle between Virginia and Monitor (litograph by Jo Davidson)

When the Monitor turned about for another engagement, they saw the Virginia had retreated, but did not pursue since the ship’s orders were to protect the Minnesota.

In the end, both the Union and the Confederacy thought they had won the day, but practically it was a Union victory, since the Coonfederacy failed to break the blockade.

The ships didn’t fight each other again, but neither of them lived to see the year 1863.

During the month of May 1862, Union troops occupied Norfolk. The Virginia was not seaworthy to enter the ocean and was too heavy to go up the river. Rather than risk it falling into enemy hands, the ship was destroyed by it’s crew.

The USS Monitor nearly saw the next year, but it was finally sunk during a storm on December 31, 1862.

The battle gained worldwide attention, and proved the power of Ironclad warships and the weakness of wooden ships. The way of conducting naval warfare was irrevocably changed that day.

The Life of Billy the Kid

William Henry McCarthy (23 November 1859 – July 14, 1881), more commonly known as William H. Bonney, or Billy the Kid, was born of Irish settlers, who came to the USA during the great famine. It is not known with certainty who his father was, but we do know his mother was called Catherine McCarthy, and that she remarried to a certain William Antrim (which would be the source of one of the Kid’s aliases: Henry Antrim).

Catherine McCarthy died, of tuberculosis, when William was 14 years old. He was taken in by the Truesdell family, who had just bought a hotel/restaurant where he worked for his keep. Ironically, despite the desperado image we have of Billy the Kid, the manager said the young boy was the only one who ever worked for him that didn’t steal.His schoolteachers also dismantled the myth of his personality, with one saying “the young man was no more a problem than any other boy. He was even quite willing to help with the chores around the schoolhouse”.

His brother Joseph was placed with the owner of a local club, a man named John Dryer, and continued to lead an honest life thereafter.

When the Truesdells started having problems, McCarthy sought his fortunes elsewhere. He went from small job to small job, without ever staying at the same place for a long time. It was during this time he was arrested twice, once for stealing cheese (april 1875) and a few months later again for the supposed theft of clothing and firearms from a Chinese immigrant. He escaped jail on that second occasion and was now officially a fugitive (though it was highly unlikely there’d have been much searches for a petty thief, whose biggest crime was stealing from a “Chinaman”)

In 1876, he met John Mackie, in Arizona. The two became involved in horse thievery, which was highly profitable.

In 1877, Billy the Kid (who was at that time mostly known by the local people as “Kid Antrim”, because of his youthful appearance and slight build), shot the blacksmith Frank Cahill. This was the first of his 4 victims.

Frank Cahill’s killing was considered unjustifiable by the law officers, even though most witnesses say it was self-defense: the blacksmith was a bully and often took pleasure in tormenting young McCarthy. On that fateful day, another of the bullying episodes ended more violently when Cahill threw the young man to the ground, intent on beating him up. The Kid drew his gun and shot his tormentor.

Regardless of eyewitnesses, he was now considered a murderer, and fled to New Mexico, in fear of reprisal.

Here he worked together with several bands of cattle thiefs. Ultimately, he ended up in the house of a certain Heiskell Jones (apparently near death after Apaches stole his horse and he had to walk many miles before encountering the first sign of civilization) He was nursed back to health by this family, and left them (with a horse they gave him). It’s presumably around this point he started calling himself William H. Bonney.

In 1877, Bonney was involved in what would become part of his lasting fame: the Lincoln County War.

The Lincoln County War originally started as a business conflict between two groups: the first one consisted of two established merchants: Lawrence Murphy and James Dolan. The second one consisted of merchants who came later: John Tunstall and Alexander Mcsween.

While the Lincoln county war and events could justify an entire essay themselves (which I may do at a later time), it’s enough for now to say that the conflict soon turned from businesslike to violent. When Tunstall was murdered by a group of men, who were working for Murphy and Dolan (one of these goons was local sheriff William Brady).

Mcsween did the necessary to obtain arrest warrants for the men responsible, and so a deputized group was formed, with the intent of arresting the men responsible. This group called itself “the regulators”. The Kid was part of this group.

After being deputized, the regulators arrested two of the men responsible for the murder of Tunstall. But these two men, Bill Morton and Frank Baker, never made it back to Lincoln alive. They were shot while escaping. The Regulators also shot one of their own men there, a certain William McCloskey (who had supposedly betrayed the regulators).

On April 1 1877, the violence flared up once more: 6 regulators, among which there was Billy the Kid, ambushed William Brady and his deputy George Hindman. Both of them were killed in Lincoln main street.

On April 4th, the regulators were involved in a gunfight with Buckshot Roberts, whom they suspected in the involvement of the murder.

These last incidents did negatively influence public opinion towards the Regulators, however. They were now considered just as bad as the man they went up against.

The Regulator’s position only worsened when the Dolan faction ended up allying with the US Cavalry. A few more violent episodes followed (which I’ll also detail in a separate essay about the Lincoln County War), but the “war” ended when McSween was killed, and the remaining regulators became fugitives.

Lew Wallace, Governor of New Mexico (also known as the writer of Ben Hur, and as a not so competent Civil War Commander), offered amnesty to those involved, but not indicted in the Lincoln County War.

The Kid was indicted, but tried to obtain some measure of peace in another way: in exchange for amnesty, he’d testify. Wallace accepted, and McCarty agreed to remain in jail for the time of the testimony. Wallace broke his word however and didn’t free McCarty, so after the Dolan trial, McCarty escaped together with his close friend Tom O’folliard.

For the next year and a half, the Kid remained on the run for the law. In 1880, he killed someone for the second time (while he was involved in a few gunfights, there are only 4 deaths which can be attributed to him with certainty). This time it was a man called Joe Grant. The man reportedly boasted how he would kill Billy the Kid if he encountered him, unaware that the Kid was next to him . McCarthy asked to see the gun with which he would do it. When Grant complied, McCarthy rotated the cylinder so it was on an empty chamber. He then handed back the gun and told Grant his real identity. The man took his gun and tried to shoot, with no effect, since it was an empty chamber...McCarthy then shot the man.

By November 1880, another name comes into the story: Pat Garret, who was elected sheriff of Lincoln County in November 1880. He set out with a posse to capture Billy the Kid.

He came near on December 19. However, the Kid managed to escape, but not withouot any cost: his good friend Tom O’Folliard was killed. On December 23, the Kid and his gang were tracked to an abandoned building near Taiban, where they were surrounded by the posse. Realising they had no food, and no hope of escape, the gang surrendered.

Billy The Kid was imprisoned in Santa Fe, where he remained for a few months. During that time, he tried to make Lew Wallace make good on his promise of amnesty, to no avail.

He was sentenced to be hung, with the penalty taking place on may 13, 1881. But again, The Kid surprised everyone by killing both of his guards (James W. Bell and Bob Olinger) with a hidden gun, before escaping.

Based on Rumours, Garrett set out to Fort Sumner, where the Kid was reportedly hiding.

On July 14th, Garret was questioning one of the Kid’s friends ( a man named Pete Maxwell), when Billy the Kid unexpectedly entered.

The official story said that when he entered, he did not recognize Garrett and drew his gun, while saying “who is it?” in Spanish. When Garret recognized the voice of the kid, he drew his gun and shot him twice. One bullet hit him in the heart and he died one minute later.

The other version that is told however, and which is probably more accurate, goes as follows:

The Kid entered, armed only with a knife, on his way to the kitchen. When he noticed shadows moving, he said “who is it?”. Garret said nothing and shot him.

Whatever the truth may be: the Kid was dead. He was buried in Fort Sumner, between his two longtime friends and allies: Charlie Bowdre and Tom O’Folliard.

While his life ended there, his legend only started. 130 years later, Billy the Kid is one of those enduring legends of the Old West. Years after his death, a few men even claimed to be him (one of these men, named Brushy Bill Roberts, was even the basis for the movie “Young Guns II”). In a final twist of irony, Billy the Kid has become some kind of a folk hero, with Pat Garrett taking on the role of the villain in the story.