Wild Bill Hickok

Better known to the Baby Boomers than he is to the post-Star Wars generations (during which the western began its surprising and precipitious plunge from the center of American popular culture), James Butler "Wild Bill" Hickock was a legend even in his own time. Bill picked up his monicker early on. Supposedly he stood up to a crowd of ruffians on a dusty street, and as he walked away a lady called out "That's the way, Wild Bill!". That's one story, anyway.

Bill, was born in Troy, Illinois on May 27, 1837. He went west when he was about nineteen. Bill threw his lot in with the Kansas Free Staters, and when war was declared he served as a scout for the Union Army. Bill evidently had an impressive physical presence, and Elizabeth Custer (George's wife) described him in a manner that makes us think she noticed more than his flowing auburn locks.

It was in 1867 and two years after his first true gunfight, that real fame came to Wild Bill. In that year two newspapers published interviews with Bill, one written by the English reporter Henry Morton Stanley (yes, the same Stanley who four year later presumed he found Dr. Livingston). Bill was a far more articulate subject than Henry expected from the earlier article, and Henry sopped up all the malarkey that Bill doled out, including his count of killing a hundred men. Bill was 30 at the time and so would have had to plug over three men a year since his birth.

Whether the citizens of Ellis County, Kansas believed the inflated tally or not, in August of 1869, they asked the now famous "Wild Bill" to serve as sheriff. Although he had been selected largely to clean up of Hays City, some townspeople soon had second thoughts. Within six weeks their sheriff with the quick trigger had already seen fit to kill two men in the line of duty. So after only three months Bill was asked to turn in his badge.

Bill may have been miffed at the inconsistent jayhawkers, but his fame continued to grow. But fame for a gunfighter was a mixed blessing. True, many miscreants wouldn't even consider slapping leather with him, but just as many decided they would be happy to go down in history as the hombre who bested Wild Bill, particularly when their courage had been fueled by Wild West rotgut. Then the dime novelists took over, and Bill's (imaginary) exploits became the envy of every eastern schoolboy. William F. "Buffalo Bill" Cody even persuaded him to appear in a play back east. But the talent of Bill (Wild, that is) as a thespian was minimal, and his thin rather high-pitched voice didn't carry well in the pre-amplified theaters. Bill soon returned west to resume his somewhat rambling lifestyle.

The first motion picture about Wild Bill (and Calamity Jane) was filmed in 1915, but it was the small screen that gave Bill's reputation the shot in the arm needed to carry it through the last half of the twentieth century. In 1951, The Adventures of Wild Bill Hickok began airing on network television. Every week until 1958, actor Guy Madison brought justice to the Old West with the help of his sidekick Jingles (played by Andy Devine). Bill also appeared as a character in Dustin Hoffman's Little Big Man (played by Jeff Corey), and most recently in Deadwood as portrayed by Keith Carradine. So Bill's fame might have wavered and waned, but so far has never completely died out.

That said, the real James Butler Hickok indeed ranks high among the Old West gunfighters in fights participated in and the number of men he killed. Both tally up to about seven if you ignore his last - quote "gunfight" - unquote - where he didn't even draw his gun. Bill's actual count - fewer than Marshal Dillon might plug in a week - is actually a quite high for a real gunfighter.

It's popular to cite Bill's 1865 battle wth Dave Tutt in Springfield, Missouri as a rare example of a western quick draw contest. The tale is now oft told on the internet and so has acquired an irrefutable credibility. Alas, as usual there are variant accounts. One story does have the men drawing and shooting nearly simultaneously, and another - the most ridiculous - has Bill walking calmly forward as Dave's bullet's whizz by his head, only to finally draw and dispatch Dave with a single shot.

However, in a more credible version, Bill already had his gun drawn before he called out to Dave. Dave went for his gun, and Bill fired. Whether both guns went off or not, the man with the gun out of the holster could inevitably shoot more accurately. Besides Bill was a good shot as gunfighters go. Dave fell dead and Bill walked off. A close reading of any credible account of the fight leaves much doubt that a high noon type showdown actually occurred. That Bill would have stepped out with a drawn gun is also more in accord with the way most real west gunfights began. If you went into a fight, you came in with your gun in hand, not in your holster.

Probably the most reliable account of a Wild Bill shootout was in 1869 and was reported first hand by Miguel Otero, later governor of New Mexico. Miguel was in Hays City when he saw a drunk cowboy named Bill Mulvey shooting up a saloon. Mulvey was not taking his irritability out on any people, just bottles, windows, and mirrors. So he was miffed when a bystander told him that Wild Bill was sheriff and so he better watch out. Filled with liquor and bravado, Mulvey went looking for the lawman.

Miguel didn't say so explicitly but it seems that he was the one who found Wild Bill and warned him that Mulvey was out and about. Hays City was not a huge town back then and soon Mulvey spotted Miguel talking to Bill . As Mulvey rode up rifle in hand, Bill looked past the cowboy and called out, "Don't shoot him, boys, he's drunk!" Mulvey quickly spun around, and just as quickly Wild Bill pulled his gun and shot him in the head.

The same year Bill was in another scrap with soldiers of the 7th Cavalry. Depicted with the expected inaccuracy in Charles Bronson's 1977 movie "The White Buffalo" (Tom Custer, George's brother, was not involved), it was actually a point blank misfire that saved Bill's life. The click of the hammer gave Bill the time to draw his own gun which didn't misfire. He shot two of the soldiers (one who later died) and then made a quick exit.

In 1871, the city council of Abilene, Kansas hired Bill as city marshal. He got paid $150 a month, plus a portion of the fines. Although one his jobs was to keep stray dogs off the street, his main duty was to keep the Texas drovers in line after they dropped off their cows at the railhead stockyards. Normally indulgent of the Texans' hijinks (such as repeatedly tossing a bartender's glasses out into the street), Bill had a zero tolerance policy if any rowdiness involved gunplay. But it was a problem with one of Abilene's citizens who ended up ending Bill's law career.

Phil Coe was a bartender and owner of the Bullshead Saloon. In boasting of his fine wares, Phil put out a sign which showed a bull with an anatomical exactness that bestowed a secondary meaning to his saloon's name. In any case, the sign offended some of Abiliene's more dainty women and delicate men, and Bill made Phil tone the sign down. Nothing immediate came of the fracas, but Phil didn't take too kindly of Bill's meddling.

On the night of October 5, 1871, a gang of rowdies gathered on the street outside the Alamo Saloon and among them was Phil. Phil fired a shot - at a passing dog he said. Bill, investigating the gunfire, demanded Phil give up his gun which was illegal to carry in town. Phil shot at Bill and missed (a common enough event among inebriated would be gunfighters), and Bill yanked his own gun and hit Phil in the stomach. Then hearing footsteps running up from behind, Bill spun around and quite literally shot first before asking any questions. But the man he gunned down was his own deputy, Mike Wilson, who had been running up to help.

Outraged Bill ran though town and closed down all the saloons. Both Mike and Phil succumbed to their wounds. This incident had a major influence on the city fathers long term plans. Within two months, they banned the cattle trade from Abilene, and told Wild Bill his services were no longer required.

Shooting down his own deputy seems to have made Bill the gunfighter's equivalent of a bleeding heart liberal. As far as we know, Bill never drew his gun again. He drifted through the west, was arrested a number of times for vagrancy, and ended up in getting married in Cheyenne, Wyoming to an Agnes Thatcher ("I don't think the[y] meant it," the minister wrote in the registry). That was March 5, 1876. After a brief honeymoon (in exotic Cincinnati), Bill headed up to Deadwood, South Dakota without Agnes in tow. At the time Deadwood was a rollicking and wild mining town, cashing in on the gold rush in the Black Hills. But you wonder if the citizens really dropped the F-bomb as much as they did in the series. Scholars generally cite "son-of-a-[gun]" as the cowboys' most popular expletive.

Whether Deadwood was a town full of potty mouths or not, it was there on the night of August 1, 1876 that Bill was playing poker and was shot in the back of the head by "Broken Nose" Jack McCall. No one really knows why. We're told Bill was holding two pair - aces and eights - the famous "dead man's hand". The story is probably apocryphal as it was not in any contemporary accounts. But if true it was a reasonably good hand in the day when poker had no draw. Tough luck, Wild Bill.

References

The Gunfighter: Man Or Myth, Joseph G. Rosa, University Of Oklahoma Press (1969). An Englishman and postal worker in London, Joseph G. Rosa is also one of the premier historians of the American West. This was the groundbreaking work on the Old West gunfighter.

Wild Bill Hickok: The Man and His Myth, Joseph G. Rosa, University of Kansas Press (1996). Considered the definitive biography. Joseph is (obviously) considered the expert on Wild Bill's life.

They Called Him Wild Bill. The Life and Adventures of James Butler Hickok, Joseph G. Rosa, University Of Oklahoma Press (1964). An earlier book about Wild Bill, again by Joseph.

Encyclopedia of Western Gunfighters, Bill O'Neal, University of Oklahoma Press (1983). A standard reference work listing all documented gunfights of the Old West. The number of gunfights for any individual is surprisingly low, which upon mature reflection, makes sense. Odds alone would make it unlikely John Wesley Hardin would actually make it through 44 gunfights, and Bat Masterson himself was in only three verifiable shootouts. Wild Bill's seven gunfights (eight if you count his last where he didn't even pull his gun) is at the high end for any individual gunman.

There are many web sites and web articles dealing with Wild Bill. A good place to start is at "Legend's of America" hosted by Kathy Weiser at http://www.legendsofamerica.com/. Readable and complete, you'll find a lot of information about Wild Bill and others with a minimum of difficulty and a maximum of accuracy.