Sheriff Brady

The Rise and Fall of Sheriff William Brady: A Tale of Loyalty and Lead
Born on August 16, 1829, in the rolling green hills of County Cavan, Ireland, William J. Brady was the eldest of seven siblings, raised on his father’s potato farm. The son of William John Robert Brady and Catherine Darby, young William showed an early spark for politics after graduating in 1844. But the call of adventure lured him across the Atlantic to America in 1851, where he traded Irish fields for the dust and danger of the frontier.
Brady enlisted in the U.S. Army on July 11, 1851, joining Company F of the First United States Riflemen. Stationed at Fort Duncan, Texas, he climbed to the rank of Sergeant by June 2, 1856, earning an honorable discharge. Yet the military life still beckoned; that same day, he reenlisted with the same company. By March 2, 1861, he was discharged again, this time at Fort Craig, New Mexico. Undeterred, Brady joined the 2nd New Mexico Infantry of Volunteers on August 19, 1861, and by April 25, 1862, he transferred to the 1st New Mexico Volunteers, forming the 1st New Mexico Cavalry. As a 1st Lieutenant in Company C, stationed in Albuquerque, Brady’s steady rise reflected his grit and ambition.
At 33, standing 5’8” with piercing blue eyes, brown hair, and a fair complexion, Brady cut a striking figure. On November 16, 1862, he married Maria Bonifacio Chaves Montoya in Albuquerque, building a life with her that included nine children and a sprawling ranch home. His valor in battles against Indigenous tribes earned him a promotion to Captain in the 1st New Mexico Volunteer Cavalry in Santa Fe, followed by a Brevet Major appointment on March 13, 1865, for his courage. He left the military for good on October 8, 1866, at Fort Union, New Mexico, ready to carve out a new legacy.
Brady settled in Lincoln, New Mexico, aligning himself with L.G. Murphy’s powerful faction, which ran a sprawling general store and held a chokehold on the town’s economy. His loyalty to Lawrence G. Murphy was so profound that he would later even named one of his sons after him. By 1870, Brady was recorded as Lincoln’s sheriff, possibly the first to hold the title, though he may have served as early as 1867. His badge, however, came with whispers of corruption, as he and his allies tightened their grip on the small settlement.

The morning of April 1, 1878, dawned with a deadly promise. Behind an adobe wall on John Tunstall’s property, the Lincoln County Regulators, Henry Brown, John Middleton, Fred Waite, Jim French, and the infamous Billy the Kid, lay in wait. Sheriff Brady, a creature of habit, was expected to ride past Tunstall’s store as he did every morning. But Brady was already in town, throwing the Regulators’ plan into disarray. Seizing the chaos of April Fool’s Day, they hatched a quick scheme to lure him out. A commotion near Ike Ellis’s house did the trick, drawing Brady and his posse, Deputy George Hindman, circuit court clerk Jacob “Billy” Matthews, and possibly George Peppin and Jack Long, toward the trap.
As Brady paused to chuckle with a woman, perhaps sharing an April Fool’s jest, he trotted to rejoin his men. The Regulators overheard him ranting about Billy the Kid:
“That little devil, cow thief Billy Bonney is getting more daring every day! He’s headed for a hanging, and it can’t happen too soon to suit me!”
His words were cut short by a sharp crack of gunfire. Brady crumpled to the ground, groaning,
  “Oh, Lord.”  
As he struggled to rise, the Regulators unleashed a hail of bullets from behind the wall. Over a dozen rounds tore through Brady, killing him instantly. Deputy Hindman and Billy Matthews were wounded, the latter crawling for cover as dogs barked in the stunned silence.
In the aftermath, Billy the Kid and Jim French emerged from hiding. Billy approached Brady’s lifeless body, possibly to reclaim a confiscated Winchester or to snatch incriminating documents, or perhaps to defile the sheriff’s badge. A shot from Matthews narrowly missed Billy, grazing his hip and striking French in the thigh. The Regulators fled on horseback, but French, hobbled by his wound, hid in Tunstall’s store. Dr. Ealy tended to him, concealing him beneath floorboards until the dust settled.
The ambush left deputies Peppin and Matthews scrambling. They summoned military support from Fort Stanton, but the arrival of Alexander McSween, John Chisum, Montague Leverson, and others in Lincoln complicated matters. Passing Brady and Hindman’s bloodied bodies in the street, they stopped at the Ellis home. Peppin, backed by Captain Purington and a small detachment of soldiers, demanded McSween’s surrender on an arrest warrant. McSween refused, arguing Peppin’s authority died with Brady. 
Sheriff Brady and Deputy Hindman were laid to rest at the Brady Ranch east of Lincoln. Brady left behind his wife, Maria, and six children, his legacy forever tied to the brutal Lincoln County War, a saga of loyalty, betrayal, and a fatal April Fool’s Day.