"I don't blame you for writing of me as you have. You had to believe other stories, but then, I don't know if anyone would believe anything good of me anyway." - Who is it?

1859 -1861, month and day unknown.
As of this writing that's the closest we've come to his birthday.
So many records of his life are now all gone.
His tragic, short and violent life began when he was only just a very young child.
He was a lamb among wolves trying desperately to survive
the untamed Old West's most merciless and vile.
He was supposedly born in New York City,
but the state of New Mexico is where he'd be raised.
It would be there where he'd grow to young adulthood
and become familiar with the west's outlaw ways.
His first foiled crime occurred in New Mexico's Silver City.
He stole some butter and then sold it to a local merchant.
Upon discovery the local sheriff spanked the young boy silly.
Sheriff Whitehill then let the lad go with this stern warning,
"No more will I put a belt to your hide if we ever meet this way again.
If you again break the law, of this you can be sure, You'll Be Going To Jail My Friend!"
The sheriff was actually sympathetic. He wanted to give the boy a healthy fright.
He knew the kid was orphaned, alone and all on his own.
He could see that his future wasn't looking too bright.
It's sad for this boy was no dummy. Mary Richards, his teacher would say,
"He was a student who always had his homework in on time each and every day."
He would enthusiastically help with the classroom chores.
Schooling was not just education, it was an activity he adored.
He loved to read. He loved to sing. He loved to dance and even act.
He'd spend many days involved with his school plays.
His mother's death however would put an end to all of that.
Her loving memory probably grieved him all the rest of his short days.
He loved her devotedly and he lost her at a time when she was the whole of his life.
A large part of his heart surely died as he cried beside his mother at her deathbed that night.
After Mrs Catherine Antrim was laid down to rest,
her two sons would be separated and go from one foster home to the next.
The kid must have wondered if he'd ever again see his brother Joe.
Was Joe his older or younger brother? This is another fact we don't know.
We do know that their step father, one William Antrim ,
abandoned the offspring of his departed wife Catherine.
Catherine knew she was dying and probably married Antrim to insure
that her boys would always have a family and home.
If he promised to care for and love them, his promises weren't pure.
Catherine no sooner died and Antrim was gone.
He wasn't even there on the day that she died,
nor during the days that preceded the end of her suffering pneumonia.
With one last look into their eyes, he gave the brothers their final separate good byes.
William Antrim then left the boys and moved to Clifton, Arizona.
And so began the short and violent life of this unfortunate child.
Legend doesn't accurately portray the brutal harshness of the true life he had lived.
His was the tragedy of a promising young boy forced to become a man while still a child.
All would one day know him as Billy, the Kidster.