This week I read half of Charles A. Siringo’s History of Billy the Kid. Siringo was a cowboy of the same era, and he befriended Billy the Kid and his gang. After they parted ways, the author, a huge fan of the Kid, began collecting and recording stories about his exploits into this book. Published in 1920, it gives some insight as to what made the Kid so legendary to begin with, and it could also provide some source material for some of the legends about Billy the Kid.
The overall picture given of the Kid is one of a gallant criminal. He only kills when those who “deserve” it and takes the honor of himself and his friends seriously. For instance, most of the men he kills have either insulted him, stolen from him, or wronged his friends. The victims who do not fall into any of these categories are Mexicans, Jews, and Indians. By limiting his descriptions of violence to people readers dislike anyway, Siringo manages to avoid the stigma of murder and even garners support for the Kid’s actions.
Siringo also paints a picture of loyalty. Time and time again, the Kid rescues his friends and avenges their deaths. He breaks his friend Segura out of jail (21), he goes back into the desert to find his partner O’Keefe (30), and he swears to “kill every man who took part in the murder of his friend Tunstall” (39). Society respected these values, and so they ignored the less savory parts of the Kid’s exploits.
Furthermore, the tone of the book lends to Billy’s rise as a legend. The author constantly refers to him as a “young hero,” which encourages readers to think of him in the same way. Also, the writing style is detached and clinical, though this may just be the style of 1920. In any event, the Kid shrugs off wounds and 72 hour waterless-stretches with stoic strength, further enhancing his larger than life persona.
Siringo fits into the Parson Weems mold here, building a historical figure into a legendary character. His motivation seems a little hazy, though. It’s not likely he felt Americans needed to model themselves after this outlaw, though he did have an enormous amount of respect for the Kid. Perhaps he magnified the Kid’s story in order to give Americans a common history. Prohibition was just starting up in the 1920s, so it’s possible that he felt a little rule-breaking could even be beneficial for Americans. In the coming week I hope read the final few chapters of the book, mostly to do with the Kid’s death, find some more background on Siringo and the time period of this piece, and discuss some of the legends he mentions here.
Your post made me think a little bit of Ricky’s post about the tension between individualism and group loyalty in American culture. There seems to be a sort of “band of brothers” idea in the book that you read–the idea that Billy is both an iconoclast and individual, but also deeply committed to his particular circle. Is the fact that he oscillates between those two poles part of his appeal–the idea that you can be a rule-breaker and a friend-keeper too?