There are is an almost endless collection of stories comparing the Goodnight-Loving trail drives of the 1860s to the Lonesome Dove book and movie. I have passed on more than a few of them and some can be found in past offerings here. As highly as I regard Gus and Call, I still consider the real events (and people) more compelling.

One of those people is Oliver Loving’s companion on his fatal trip up the Pecos that ended with the loss of an arm for the veteran trail driver, and eventually his life. In the novel, this companion is the slow thinking but loyal Pea-Eye. In reality, this man was a skilled cowman, first-class fighting man, someone known for his cool head in any situation and not only a highly trusted Goodnight hand but one of the most skilled despite only having one arm. There was a reason that “One-Armed” Bill Wilson was selected to make that dangerous tract with Loving.

The Wilson family had come from Arkansas to the brutal edge of the Texas frontier along the Cross Timbers in 1857 and settled along Keechi Creek. The great historian/cowman J. Evetts Haley noted that it was tradition that the Wilsons were “born for trouble, and they never belied their birthright”.

Bill was the second of eight children born to James Wilson and his first wife. When that first wife died James was left with eight children, half of them comprised of two sets of young twins, to raise. In the mid-1850s, he married a young widow with two children of her own and headed for Texas. That union would produce five more Wilsons before the second wife died in the Comanche raids of 1869. James Wilson ran stock over parts of Texas, Colorado and what became Oklahoma for a quarter-century, lost two herds to hoof and mouth disease, and constantly rebuilt with a will common to those who came to the plains and became a part of them.

Bill Wilson lived into the 1920s to recall his life on the trail for the original Frontier Times magazine and for that historical treasure The Trail Drivers of Texas, collected and edited by J. Marvin Hunter. But he never left a record of how he came to lose an arm. There are a few accounts left by unknown tellers of tales and most are clearly not true. Two of those include suggestions that he lost it to a threshing machine when 8 years old or to a hay bailer about the same time. That would have been about 1849 and anyone who knows much about farm equipment can easily see that as a historical impossibility. Another account has him losing the arm to a savage horse bite around the age of 4. The best guess is that it was a birth defect. If he ever spoke of it, it is not recorded.

In Texas, young Bill Wilson quickly became the best cowman of a clan who took to the wild cow plains like hogs to mud. He helped the family keep the Carruthers stock on shares and worked regularly for Charles Goodnight and his stepbrother and business partner Wes Sheek, taking his pay in cattle. In the late summer of 1865, Bill had a small herd of his own that he prepared to drive to Old Mexico for sale.

At the same time, Goodnight was gathering a herd to drive to New Mexico and Colorado. The Civil War was just ended and constant Indian trouble, the uncertainties of Reconstruction and an abundance of thieving neighbors had convinced him there were greener pastures to be found and he didn’t trust the Yankee markets to the northeast.

In early September, Indians stampeded the Goodnight herd while it was being held in Young County. Goodnight followed with 14 men for about 30 miles and found where the Indians had crossed the Brazos and joined with yet another raiding party. Determining that there were too many of “them” and not enough of “us”, Goodnight turned back to protect what was left of his herd. But still, it was already late in the year, the chances for gathering another herd for a 1865 drive were over. The stage was set for what would be a history-making drive in 1866 as soon as spring’s fresh grass appeared.

Spring saw Goodnight gather only about 1000 head of beeves and fresh cows for a drive due to losses to both Indians and whites. But he was determined to drive toward the mining fields of the Rockies and avoid the Yankee markets to the east. He bought the gear from a government wagon, had the wooden axles replaced with iron, rebuilt it with the tough wood of the bois d’arc tree, and had the first-ever “chuck box” mounted on the back. After securing the horses he needed, he was ready to sign on his hands. The first was Bill Wilson.

But getting started on the drive was not a smooth affair for the young Wilson. In the meantime, he had invested in a few barrels of whiskey and planned to haul them to Jacksboro to make a profit. Goodnight advised him against it since there was a federal garrison at Jacksboro filled with out-of-state Unionists who had no use for Texans. But the young man smelled a quick profit and made the haul to Jacksboro where he was cheated by a man named Fox. One dark night, shots were fired and Mr. Fox was left dead. A detachment of soldiers arrested Wilson and was holding him in the guardhouse pending taking him to Decatur for trial.

Goodnight sent his best horse for Wilson to ride on the Decatur trip along with about 7 dollars and advised the young drover to have plenty of whiskey for the trip. Along the way, Wilson followed his employer’s advice and pretended to be drinking while sharing the whiskey with his guards. At the right time as they were crossing the Trinity Bottoms, he sank spur to his mount and made a dash for the brush. All shots fired at him missed and he rode ahead to join Goodnight, who had formed a partnership with Oliver Loving who had over 1000 head of his own ready to drive, after his herd left the Belknap area. At the time, Loving had probably trailed more cattle than anyone in the southwest but like most in Texas “cow-poor” and in debt.

Goodnight related to J. Evetts Haley that the two men he most wanted either breaking “point” with him or riding beside him in a stampede were Bose Ikard and Bill Wilson. Wilson was there through the first drive across the Pecos and into New Mexico as well as the next two. It was Wilson who Goodnight took with him to reclaim some of his cattle that were being killed by a butcher in the Raton Range in 1868. The two men took back the cattle and when challenged announced “Send over any sons-of-a-bitches you don’t want to see again” before driving the bovines off.

If you are saying to yourself, “he skipped over the eventful year of 1867”, you are right. That drive deserves a space of its own and not just for the fight Wilson and Loving put up on that bluff on the Pecos. I will try and do justice to it with the next “installment”. But it is good to develop a feel for the man who will play such a central part.

Wilson and his brothers struck out on their own by 1868, went into the Rockies, and settled around Spanish Peaks. In February of 1872, the brothers had ridden into Trinidad and George Wilson ran into a streak of bad luck gambling in the Exchange Saloon. George left the saloon while declaring loudly he had been robbed. He returned shortly with his brother Fayette and another cowboy named Axtell to demand his money back. Sheriff Juan Tafolla tried to quiet Wilson down and in the exchange, there was a scuffle and both pulled guns. George shot Tafolla in the stomach and the sheriff’s gun discharged into the barroom floor.

Frank Bloom had a store at the site which became the First National Bank. He was standing in front of it and talking with one of his cowboys when George and his brother ran up. George had lost his hat in the action back at the Exchange and grabbed the hat off the cowboy’s head and called to Bill who was nearby. They ran east past the Thatcher Store toward an arroyo which at that time had a small footbridge across it. On the other side was the United States Livery Stable where the Wilson horses had been left. A mob of about twenty were hot on their heels. But when everyone in the Wilson party had crossed over, Bill turned and threw his rifle across his stub arm and informed the followers that “the first man on that bridge is dead”.

Years later when Goodnight was recalling the event to J. Evetts Haley, he remarked that he thought the members of the mob were Mexicans and speculated that even if they didn’t understand much gringo they fully understood completely the rifle and the type of man holding it. The Wilson party then mounted their horses and according to the Trinidad Enterprise “rode slowly out of town”.

George Wilson was later killed in Arizona. But “One-Armed” Bill had returned to the Cross Timbers of Texas to ranch and cowboy between the Forks of the Trinity and the Fingers of the Brazos. He married Emma Sheek, a cousin of Charles Goodnight’s stepbrother and lived into the 1920s.

Now it is time to make a gather of my words and talk about that difficult and eventful cattle drive of 1867.

*Note: the picture here is often identified as Bill and Emma Wilson and although there are some doubts about its origin, it is generally accepted as being the couple