Myra Belle Starr was born in 1848 in the little town of Carthage, Missouri. Myra Belle Shirley later became Belle Starr. She was also one of the three children. When Belle Starrs older brother died her family moved right outside of Dallas to a little town known as Scyene, Texas.
Years later on the 1860s Belle became involved with a bank robber Cole Younger; he robbed several banks and was hiding from the law. Cole stayed with Belle for a few months until the coast was clear. A few months later after everything was settled, and Cole had gone, Belle Starr gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, named Belle Starr.
After Cole and left her she fell in love with another bank and train robber, named Jim Reed. With Jim, Belle Starr became a gang member. The gang members put on a special marriage ceremony for Jim and Belle. After two years Jim was still being chased by the law and moved Belle and Pearl to California, she had another baby named Edward Reed. Starr and two of Reeds friends robbed a local prospector. In August of 1874 Sheriff John T. Morris who lived in Collin County, Texas, shot and killed Jim Reed. Belle Starr left her two kids with her family members.
Belles next heartthrob was a Creek Indian outlaw who was known as Jim July. Starr became a Grandmother in 1887, Pearl Younger refused to identif7 the babys father, and so then Belle refused to have to child around. After riding part of the way to Fort Smith with Jim July on Feb. 3,1889. Starr turned to go back home but never made it. Pearl found her Moms saddle horse in the yard without her Mom. The neighbor found Belle face down on the muddy rode, DEAD. Belle Starr was shot with her shotgun in her back. The gunman shot her off of her horse. After the men were shoveling dirt on her grave, Jim July took a rifle and pointed it at the neighbor and yelled, You murdered my wife! But didnt shoot. At the hearing of whether Watson was held for murder, after all he was not guilty. Watson went free!!
Pearl had Belles tomb stone engraved with the following inscription:
Shed not for her the bitter tear,
Nor give the heart to vein regret,
Tis but the casket that lies here,
The gem that feels it sparkles yet