LIFE AND MARVELOUS ADVENTURES
WILD BILL,
THE SCOUT.
BEING A TRUE AND EXACT HISTORY OF ALL THB
· SANGUINARY COMBATS AND HAIR-BREADTH
ESCAPES OF THE MOST FAMOUS SCOUT
AND SPY AMERICA EVER PRODUCED.
BY
J. W. BUEL,
OF THE ST. LOUIS PRESL
ILLUSTRATED.
CHICAGO:
BELFORD, CLARKE & CO.
1880.


Copyrighted 1879, by W. 8. BRYAN.


CONTENTS.
TAGL.
PECULIARITIES OF Wild Bill's NATURE
Wild Bill's EARLY LIFE - -
FIRST EVIDENCE OF PLUCK
DESPERATE FIGHT AT Rock CREEK
A RUNNING FIGHT WITH CONFEDERATES
ENTERS THE UNION ARMY AS A SPY
A RIDE WITH DEATH - ..
CAPTURED AND CONDEMNED TO DEATH
A FIGHT WITH THREE BUSHWHACKERS
BOWIE-KNIFE DUEL WITH AN INDIAN HIEF
INDIAN AND BUFFALO SPECULATION
Bill's DUEL AT SPRINGFIELD .
A QUADRANGULAR DUEL IN NEBRASKA
Wild Bill's OPINION OF YANKEES
How BILL KILLED JACK STRAWHAN
Bill Mulvey's Last Row
A Fight With FIFTEEN SOLDIERS
A Death FIGHT WITH TEXAS GAMBLERS
A REWARD OF $5,000 IN GOLD OFFERED FOR BILL'S HEART
BILL THOMPSON'S FATAL SURPRISE
Wild BILL MAKES Twenty MEN ASK AN APOLOGY
BILL'S FIGHT WITH PHIL COLE's Cousin
REMOVES TO KANSAS CITY
A PRIZE FIGHT IN A CHICAGO BILLIARD Room .
Bill's MARRIAGE TO MRS. LAKE
MAKES HIS DEBUT ON THE STAGE
Bill's Last TRIP TO THE BLACK HILLS .
ASSASSINATION OF WILD BILL -
JACK MCCALL PAYS THE PEN ALTY
WILD BILL'S REMAINS EXHUMED AND FOUND TO BE PETRIFIED
IDIOSYNCRACES OF BILL-His BELIEF IN SPIRITS -
Bill's WONDERFUL ACCURACY OF AIM -
BLACK NELL, THE WONDERFUL MARE .
CONCLUSION-DOES BILL DESERVE A MONUMENT !


了​。”


PECULIARITIES OF WILD BILL'S NATURE.
Wild Bill, as a frontier character of the daring,
cunning and honorable class, stands alone, without a
prototype ; his originality is as conspicuous as his
remarkable escapades. He was desperate without
being a desperado; a fighter without that disposition
which invites danger or craves the excitement of an
encounter. He killed many men, but in every in-
stance it was either in self-defense or in the prosecu-
tion of a duty which he deemed justifiable. Wild
Bill was a necessary character in the Far West dur-
ing the period which marked his career. He was
essentially a civilizer, in the sense of a vigilance
posse. The law and order class found in him an
effective agent for the correction of the lawless; it
was fighting the desperate with one of their kind,
and Bill had the cunning to remain on the side of
society and to always flank his enemies.
It would require a volume to moralize upon the
deeds of this remarkable man as they deserve, for
his desperate encounters find a parallel only in the
atmospheric changes which abate an epidemic.
When Bill drew his pistol there was always one less
desperado to harass the law-abiding, and his pres-
ence served to allay the hunger of cut-throats and


LIFE OF WILD BILL.
for, from the time that he was twelve years of age,
he manifested an ardent love for adventure. He
made the rifle and pistol his earliest companions,
and when he left La Salle county he had the reputa-
tion of being the best shot in that portion of the
state.
The first record we have of him after leaving Illi-
nois was during his short stay at Independence, Mis-
souri, at which place he gained some notoriety by
boldly entering the midst of a dozen infuriated men
and bidding them to disperse. This event, we be-
lieve, has never before been mentioned in any of the
many sketches written of him, and as it was his first
act of daring, it is worthy of production here. Its
truthfulness, however, we cannot vouch for, not hav-
ing received the details from an eye-witness.
FIRST EVIDENCE OF PLUCK.
IN 1856, the year in which the occurrence is said
to have taken place, Independence was but a post
•village, and was fairly upon the border. Many
teamsters stopped there, en route to Kansas City
with produce for shipment. There were two saloons
in the place, and, naturally, much drunkenness and
lawlessness. On the occasion referred to, a dozen
teamsters had put up in town, and shortly afterwards
visited one of the saloons, where they soon became


LIFE OF WILD BILL.
13
desperate band of marauders headed by Jim and
Jack McCandlas. They were horse thieves and
murderers who overran the country and levied trib-
ute from nearly every one they met. This murder-
ous gang had killed more than a score of innocent
men and women for the purpose of robbery, and yet
their power was such that no civil officer dared un-
dertake their arrest.
In 1861, the year in which the fight occurred, the
McCandlas boys raised a company in that section
for the Confederate service. They established their
headquarters about thirteen miles west of Rock
Creek, where they were collecting men and stolen
horses. Early in the morning of the day in question,
Jim McCandlas rode by Rock Creek station in com-
pany with four of his men. McCandlas was leading
an old man, known as Parson Shapley, by a lariat
which was around the old man's neck. Coming up
to Bill the party stopped, and McCandlas entered
into a conversation, in which he tried to persuade
Bill to enter the Confederate service and to turn over
all the horses at the station to him. Bill, a stranger
to the sensation of fear, told McCandlas to go to
h-1; that if he did any fighting it would be on the
side of the Union. McCandlas then told Bill if he
didn't have the horses ready for delivery by the time
of his return, “that there would be a small murder
at Rock Creek station, and the stage company would
have to get another man.” The party then rode off.
In this connection, in order to give the reader an


i
LIFE OF WILD BILL.
idea of the manner in which Wild Bill received his
would-be murderers, it is necessary to partially de-
scribe Rock Creek station. The house in which Bill
and his single partner, known as Doc. Mills, ate and
slept, was a low-roofed log hut fronting the creek,
with the rear part built against the hill. It had a
front door, and a very small window in the side, near
the rear. The single room was divided by an old
blanket hung from the roof, behind which was a table
and a bed made after the frontier style. This rude
structure was one of the many sleeping places called
“dugouts," so often seen in the wild West even at
this day. The stables, also very rude but strongly
made, adjoined the “dugout” on the east side. The
arms in the house consisted of two revolvers, one
shot-gun, a large bore rifle, which Bill called a Mis-
sissippi yager, and two large bowie knives.
After dinner, Doc. Mills took the shot-gun and
one of the revolvers—which he usually carried-and
went down the creek a short distance to shoot some
quail. During his absence, and about four o'clock
in the evening, Wild Bill saw the two McCandlas
boys, accompanied by eight others, riding up the
road towards him. Bill at once withdrew into the
dugout and prepared to defend the place. Coming
around in front of the dugout, Jim McCandlas hal-
looed to Bill, telling him to come out and deliver
the horses. To this Bill returned an insulting reply.
The mounted party then left their horses and began
an onslaught on the door with a log which they used


16
LIFE OF WILD BILL,
as a battering ram. Bill stood behind the old
blanket, rifle in hand, and revolver and knife lying
on the table. It required but a few strokes to break
the door, and the crowd of cut-throats, headed by
Jim McCandlas, rushed in. The old yager was
discharged, and the leader fell with a hole in his
heart as large as a silver half-dollar. Bill seized his
revolver and shot three more before any of them had
reached him. The most terrible scene then followed.
Every man was like a wounded lion; the six others
jumped at Bill like harpies that had tasted blood.
He was borne down upon the table, but his right
hand was cutting right and left; the blood was gush-
ing from his forehead, where he had been struck
with a rifle, which almost blinded him; he cut two
others down, and Jack McCandlas leaped upon him
with an immense dirk drawn to cut Bill's throat. By
a rare stroke of luck, Bill placed the muzzle of his
pistol over McCandlas' heart and fired. The knife
in McCandlas' hand dropped harmlessly upon Bill,
and the man jumped into the air and fell dead, roll-
ing over Bill and falling off the table to the floor.
During this time the others, who had life in them,
were firing their pistols at Bill whenever opportunity
presented, but their numbers gave him the advan-
tage. There was but little light in the room, and it
was only the ones next to Bill that could do him any
injury, the others being fearful of killing their own
party. Six of the number had now been killed and
two others badly wounded. They began to retreat,


LIFE OF WILD BILL
17
and though Bill was apparently bleeding at every
pore, he now pressed the fighting. The two who re-
mained unharmed reached their horses, and, leaping
into the saddle, fled as though they were being pur-
sued by one who was shielded with the panoply of
invulnerability. The two wounded ran down the
hill, but one was cut so badly that he fell beside the
root of a large tree, and was unable to go further.
At this juncture Doc. Mills came back, and, when
half-way up the hill, he was met by Bill, who
grabbed the loaded shot-gun, and, placing the muz-
zle to the head of the wounded man, blew his brains
out. The other one, whose name was Jolly, man-
aged to elude Bill and reach Manhattan, where, in a
few days thereafter, he died, but not until he had
told the story of the fight substantially as here re-
lated.
After the excitement of the terrific combat was
over, Bill fainted from loss of blood, and was carried
into the dugout by his partner, Doc. Mills. The
sight on the inside was now terrible. Six men lay
dead on the floor. Jim McCandlas' body was ly-
ing across the threshold of the door, almost half
submerged in his blood. Hideous gashes and large
bullet-holes had opened the reservoir of blood which
formed in large pools, after making small creeks
over the floor. The countenances of the dead men
were most revolting. Not a groan escaped the lips
of any of the victims after Doc. Mills entered with
Bill's half-lifeless body, which he lay tenderly on the


LIFE OF WILD BILL
reported to Col. Jameson, who immediately dis-
patched two companies of his command to the scene
of the first attack, and on the following day suc-
ceeded in recapturing most of the stock and repair-
ing the damage to the wagons, so that the train was
able to proceed to Sedalia. His valor in resisting
the Confederates was acknowledged by his appoint-
ment as Brigade Wagon Master with Gen. Curtis'
army, and, while serving in this capacity, he engaged
in the battle of Pea Ridge, where he performed
most valuable service as a sharp-shooter, killing no
less than thirty-five men, it is stated, from a single
station.
ENTERS THE UNION ARMY AS A SPY.
AFTER Bill's complete recovery he returned to the
states and volunteered his services to Gen. Curtis,
who had command of the army in Missouri, as a
scout and spy. He was enrolled in the early part
of 1863, and at once sent upon a dangerous mission.
Gen. Price was preparing to enter Missouri, and it
became very necessary for Gen. Curtis to have relia-
ble information of the intentions of the Confederate
General. Bill went to Kansas City, where he was
furnished a horse, and allowed to exercise his judg-
ment in reaching the enemy's lines. Accordingly,
he rode through Kansas and the Indian Territory in
order to reach Arkansas from the south. He assumed


22
LIFE OF WILD BILL.
tive horses were wagered as to who could cross the
open space and ride down to the creek. The two
started off on a dash and soon the bullets from the
Union forces were whistling around them. Bill kept
as far from his partner as possible, and made his horse
rear and plunge in order to attract the attention of
the Union forces. They rode down to the creek to-
gether, when the Union men discovered Bill and
shouted to him. This aroused the suspicion of the
sargeant, who attempted to draw his pistol, but Bill's
eye was on him, and in a flash a ball went crashing
through his brain. Bill grabbed the bit of the dead
sergeant's horse and plunged into the stream, which
at the time was considerably swollen. The Confed-
erates now saw what was up, and although the Un-
ion forces commenced a brisk fire, the Confederates
seemed determined to kill Bill, the bullets falling
around him like hail; but he managed to reach the
opposite shore with his own and the dead sergeant's
horse without receiving any injury. Bill was taken
into Gen. Curtis' tent and afterwards publicly thanked
for his daring and valuable services.
A RIDE WITH DEATH.
Gen. Curtis continued pushing southward, and it
again became necessary for Bill to enter the enemy's
lines. There were three things particularly in Bill's


24
LIFE OF VILD BILL.
favor as a scout and spy. First of all, he was daring
beyond example ; secon'], he was an unerring shot,
and third, he could charge: his appearance so radi-
cally as to deiy detecticn; add to this a native
cunning ard adaptabili'y, and his success and escapes
are not so remarkable.
The second time he was sent into the lines he was
accompanied by Nat. Tuckett, one of the dearest
friends Bill ever had. They took a circuitous route
like the one adopted by Bill in reaching Price's
army, and attached themselves to Kirby Smith at
Austin, Texas, and soon afterwards moved north
with Smith's army into Arkansas. Curtis' forces
were not very strong, and while deploying down the
Arkansas river they began to feel the strength of
the Confederates. At length the main body of both
armies came in view and stretched their lines of bat-
tle upposite each other about one thousand yards
apart. A battery of ten-pounders was stationed on
a small knoll to the left, which was kept playing on
the Confederates, but evidently with little effect, for
they did not change positions and appeared willing
that the Union forces should expend their fire, for
they did not return it except occasionally, appar-
ently to let the Union forces know they were waiting
for the attack. This condition of affairs continued
for more than an hour, when.suddenly two horsemen
were seen to leave the ranks of the Confederates and
ride furiously towards the Union lines. They had
not gone a hundred yards before a detachment of


LIFE OF WILD BILL.
25
cavalry started in pursuit and a rapid fire was com-
menced at the two riders. A company of Union
men was deployed to intercept the pursuers, as it
was evident that the two were trying to effect their
escape. On they came, the pursued and pursuers,
until the two reached a ditch about twenty feet wide
and ten feet deep. All but two of the pursuers had
been distanced, and when the pursued came to the
ditch one of them cleared it with a bound, but the
other fell dead under his horse from a pistol shot fired
by the two advanced pursuers. The Union forces
could then plainly see that the two trying to escape
were Wild Bill and Nat. Tuckett. When his partner
fell, Bill turned in his saddle and fired two quick
shots, and both the advanced pursuers fell dead and
their horses galloped riderless into the Union lines.
This ride has been pronounced by those familiar
with the facts—hundreds of whom are yet living—as
one of the most daring feats ever accomplished, and
Bill's escape from death one of the most remarkable
of his many strokes of good fortune. The only mo-
tive he had for adopting so rash a measure was his
dare-devil nature, which possibly became intensified
by one or more drinks.
In accomplishing this perilous feat, Bill rode a
black mare, to which he gave the name of Black
Nell, and which he took great pains to train, with
what success will be mentioned hereafter,


LIFE OF WILD BILL.
27
we now have to record another extraordinary visita-
tion of good luck to Bill. Price's army had been flee-
ing more than a week before the victorious Curtis,
whose troops outnumbered those of Price two to
one. The pursuit had been continued until both
armies were very much fatigued, and Price's was so
nearly exhausted that he was compelled to go into
camp on a small creek twenty-five miles south of
Little Rock. Wild Bill's arms and legs were pinioned
with thongs and he was confined in a one-room log-
house with a single guard to prevent his escape.
The house had but one door and one window, the lat-
ter being nearly two feet square and closed by a door
made of clap-boards. Being bound hand and foot
there was no avenue of escape, apparently, and Bill
was forced to take a melancholy view of his situa-
tion Night coming on, and the guard being nearly
worn out, dozed off from time to time, feeling that his
prisoner was perfectly secure. While meditating
upon the execution announced to take place on the
morrow, in which he was to be the chief character
his eyes caught sight of the handle of an old case-
knife which was sticking in an auger hole in one of
the house logs. Changing his seat without arous.
ing any suspicion from the guard, Bill managed to
secure the rusty knife, and after long effort succeeded
in cutting the cords which bound his wrists together.
The dozing guard permitted him also to cut the cords
on his feet, and the moment he was free Bill rushed
on the guard like a tiger springing upon its prey and


LIFE OF WILD BILL.
29
these marauding bands were composed of the rene-
gades of both armies, which it was difficult for either
side to punish. Their haunts were chiefly among
the pineries and other places difficult to penetrate
with a company of men so as to present an effective
front.
Wild Bill, usually bent on some daring purpose,
concluded to enter the pineries between Rolla and
Springfield on a tour of discovery. He neglected to
acquaint any one with his purpose, and left Rolla by
night. After an absence of three days he returned
to Rolla, leading three horses. Gen. Daviess, who
was in command of the post, sent for Bill and asked
him how he came in possession of the horses. The
tone in which the General addressed the inquiry sug-
gested to Bill the idea that the General entertained
the suspicion that the horses were stolen. With a
stolid indifference which characterized the man, Bill
replied: “It's none of your d-d business." By
Gen. Daviess' orders, Bill was placed in the guard-
house, but he had so many fast friends, who felt sat-
isfied that he came by the horses honorably, that on
the night following, Bill appeared on the streets
as usual. The General was outwitted, and, approach-
ing Bill courteously, he received an explanation as
follows: On the second day after Bill left Rolla,
he met three bushwhackers in a lonely road, who
commanded him to dismount. To this Bill returned
the reply, “It shall be a fair fight," and commenced
firing. His first three shots killed his men. All of


LIFE OF WILD BILL.
31
pany any white man he might choose to send, as a
spy into the enemy's camp. Gen. Curtis at once se-
lected Wild Bill for the dangerous mission. Upon
setting out on the journey, Bill had his suspicions
aroused by the anxiety of the chief, and frankly
told the Indian that if he betrayed him death would
be the consequence.
The two proceeded cautiously, Bill's eyes being
almost constantly on the chief, lest the treachery he
suspicioned would lead him into a fatal trap. His
fears were realized when the two had got within a
short distance of the hostile camp, for the chief had
misled him and then suddenly disappeared. Bill
managed, with his usual good fortune, to escape the
Choctaws after getting inside the picket lines, al-
though several times they came within a few feet of
his hiding places. He made his way back to Leaven-
worth, where, after reporting the result of his trip, he
directed his steps toward the camp of the Sioux.
Bill could never discover the motive which prompt-
ed the chief to thus betray him, but he was deter-
mined to be revenged. He was personally ac-
quainted with many of the Sioux, and one of the
most trusted ones he employed to lure the chief to
a lone spot where he could take his revenge. The
stratagem succeeded, and, ere the chief was aware,
he was brought face to face with Bill in a seques-
tered spot thirty miles west of Kansas City. Bill
told the chief that he intended to kill him for his
treachery, and thereupon threw the Indian a pistol,


LIFE OF WILD BILL.
33
thrust, Bill cut the Indian's throat, almost severing
the head from the body.
The wound Bill received caused him great annoy-
ance, for after partially healing, a fistula formed,
which Dr. Thorne treated for several months before
he recovered the use of his arm. This fight was
one of the most terrible ever man engaged in, and
nothing could evidence a man's pluck more con-
clusively than this did Bill's.
INDIAN AND BUFFALO SPECULATION.
Shortly after the close of the great civil war
Wild Bill engaged in a novel enterprise, the result of
which was a complete financial failure, though it
furnished rare amusement for a great many wealthy
people. He secured six fine, full-grown buffalos,
and with four Commanche Indians, he made a trip to
Niagara Falls, for the purpose of treating the visitors
of that fashionable and famous resort to a genuina
buffalo chase. The entertainment was duly adver-
tised and a very large number of persons was
attracted to witness real Indians, bespangled with
beads, paint and feathers, in pursuit of a genuine
herd of wild buffalos. The chase occurred on the
Canada shore, and created the greatest excitement;
hundreds of gentlemen engaging in the pursuit,
mounted in excellent style, and rendering efficient
aid at the close in securing the buffalos, unharmed,
and returning them to pens previously provided.


LIFE OF WILD BILL
federates and Union men. Both sides recruited
their forces from this section, and though the war
had ended, many of the animosities then engen-
dered still remained. Another peculiarity of the
place consisted in the excess of border ruffianism,
which made the town notorious. Murders had been
so frequent in that section that the value of a life
could scarcely be computed for its smallness
Among the rowdies was one Dive Tutt, a man of
terrible passion, strong revenge, and one withal who
had his private graveyard. He and Bill had met be-
fore; in fact, had shared the smiles of the same wo-
man, a few years previous; but bill had won “in a
square court," and Dave was anxious to meet Bill
with pistols to settle the point finally. Some months
passed while the two were in Springfield before any
opportunity was presented for Dave to introduce a
row, and when it came it was of Dave's own manu-
facture. It is claimed that Bill killed a particular
friend of Dave's some years before, but of the truth
of this we have no proof. One of the strong points
of difference between the men consisted in the fact
that Bill had been a Union scout and spy, and Dave
had performed a similar duty for the Confederates.
Springfield was a great place for gamblers, and Bill
and Dave belonged to the profession. One night,
the two met in a saloon on the north side of the
square, and Dave proposed a game with Bill, which,
not being agreeable, Dave offered to stake a friend
to play Bill. Thus the game was started. When


LIFE OF WILD BILL.
knew him thought he had lost his pluck. It was in-
deed a seven days' wonder with the people.
Dave kept the watch two days, during which time
Bill remained in his room closely, revolving in his
mind whether he should add another to his already
long list of victims, or stop there and begin a life
which flows in a more peaceful current. But he
was not permitted to think and resolve without the
advice of his friends. Almost every hour one or
more of them would come to him with a new story
about Dave's boasts and intentions.
On the morning of the third day after the row,
Dave sent word to Bill that he intended “to
carry the watch across the square at noon, and to
call the hour from Wild Bill's watch.” Bill sent back
the following reply: “Dave Tutt will not carry my
watch across the square to-day unless dead men can
walk."
This reply satisfied everybody that there was go-
ing to be a death fight. Accordingly, shortly before
noon, an immense crowd had assembled on the public
square to see the duel.
At five minutes to twelve Wild Bill made his ap-
pearance on one side of the square opposite the
crowd, where he could command a view of Tutt and
his many friends, nearly all of whom were standing
with their revolvers in their hands.
Just before twelve Dave stepped out from the
crowd and started across the square. When he had
proceeded a few steps and placed himself opposite to


LIFE OF WILD BILL
Bill. The saloon-keeper was to give the word
"fire," and the arrangements were conducten
in as fair a manner as four men can fight onc.
Bill stood as calmly as though he were in church.
Not a flush nor tremor. All parties were to allow
their pistols to remain in their belts until the 'word
"fire" was given, when each was then to draw
and fire at will, and as often as circumstances
permitted. The saloon-keeper asked if all were
ready, and receiving an affirmative reply, began to
count slowly, pausing at least ten seconds between
each count: “one, two, three-fire !" Bill had fired
almost before the call had died from the saloon-
keeper's lips. He killed the man on the left, but a
shot also struck Bill in the right shoulder, and his
right arm fell helpless.
In another instant he had transferred his pistol to
his left hand, and three more successive shots drop-
ped his antagonists. Three of the men were shot in
the head and instantly killed. The other was shot
in the right cheek, the ball carrying away a large
portion of the cheek bone. He afterwards recovered,
and may be living yet. The names of the four were :
Jack Harkness, the one who recovered; Jim Slater,
Frank Dowder and Seth Beeber. .
Bill was lionized by the others in the crowd in a
moment after the fight; his wound was carefully
bandaged and his wants administered to; but he
considered it safer to quit the county at once, and
returned to Kansas, going direct to Hays City, where


LIFE OF WILD BILL
43
he remained until he recovered the use of his arm,
none of the bones having been broken, and in the
latter part of the same year he was made city mar-
shal, as he was the only one capable of dealing with
the lawless class which had often overrun the town
and set law and decency at defiance.
WILD BILL'S OPINION OF YANKEES.
IN 1868, Wild Bill was engaged to guide a party of
thirty pleasure-seekers, headed by Hon. Henry Wil-
son, deceased ex-Vice-President, through some of the
Western territories. Mrs. Wilson, wife of the Vice-
President, was among the party, and being of a most
vivacious and entertaining disposition, added greatly
to the enjoyment of the trip. Wild Bill's introduc-
tion to her resulted in a pleasing episode at the con-
clusion of the trip. She requested Bill to carefully
scrutinize the party, and then give her his impartial
opinion of Yankees. Bill replied that it was not cus-
tomary for him to form rash conclusions, but if it
were her wish he would deliver his opinion upon
their return.
The thirty days roaming through the canyons and
over the mountains furnished a most enjoyable diver-
sion to the entire party. There was scarcely a day
passed but that Bill gave them samples of his unerr-
ing aim, killing enough game with his pistol to pro-


44
LIFE OF WILD BILL.
vision the company. The ladies, who composed
nearly one-half the party, never tired of praising
him, listening to his stories of border life, and won-
dering at his marvelous escapes. Bill naturally felt
elated, and could not refrain from evincing his very
deep interest in the pretty girls from the states. The
gentlemen exhibited equal interest in the exploits of
Bill, and gave him full credit for his performances.
There was one thing about the party which Bill
could not comprehend, viz.: the tight-legged pants
which they wore—which at that time were the pre-
vailing fashion in the East—and gave to the wearer
the appearance of skeleton legs, wrapped with
checked bandages, or a grasshopper dressed in an
overcoat.
Upon the return of the party, Mrs. Wilson, in bid-
ding Bill good-bye, asked for a fulfillment of his prom-
ise. He rather reluctantly responded, “Well, mad-.
am, I always like to keep my promise, but in this
instance I should like to be excused.” But no ex-
cuse would answer; his disinclination only excited a
more anxious interest in Mrs. Wilson to obtain his
opinion.
Being pressingly importuned, Bill at length gave
his opinion as follows: “ If you Yankee women
have as small legs as the sample of Yankee men we
have here, then I have a d-d poor opinion of the
tribe.”
The frankness with which Bill spoke, no less than
his remarks, threw the entire party into disorder.


LIFE OF WILD BILL,
one drank. The coroner was sent for and the crowd
gave their testimony. Bill was acquitted the same
day, and serenaded by the authorities at night.
Whitney escaped death at Strawhan's hands, but
was killed by a Texan named Ben Thompson, in
1873.
BILL MULVEY'S LAST ROW.
SHORTLY after the event just related, Bill Mulvey,
a notorious rough and desperado from St. Joseph,
Mo., struck Hays City, and got on what we term in
the West, “a great big tear.” He paraded the
streets with a revolver in each hand, howling like an
enraged tiger, and thirsting for some one's blood.
He was met by the squire and constable, both of
whom endeavored to make him keep the peace, but
their efforts were so far futile that he turned upon
them and drove both out of the town. Wild Bill,
who chanced to be in a saloon in another part of the
place, where he was unconscious of the disturbance,
was notified, and at once started to arrest Mulvey.
Approaching his man quietly, in a most amiable tone
he told Mulvey that he should have to arrest him for
disturbing the peace. Mulvey had his pistols in his
hands at the time, and in an instant they were lev-
eled at Wild Bill's head, with the injunction, “ March
before me.” Bill fully appreciated the danger of his
position, but his remarkable self-possession and cool-


50
LIFE OF WILD BILL.
aversion to Bill on account of his having arrested,
at divers times, several of the members of his
company. The sergeant was in Paddy Welch's
saloon with several of his men, indulging in
a noisy carousal. Welch sent for Bill to remove the
crowd, but when he arrived the sergeant insisted on
fighting Bill in the street. He confessed that he was
no match for Bill in a duel, but dared him to meet
him in fistic encounter. To this proposition Bill
consented, and taking out his two revolvers he passed
them to Welch, and the two combatants, followed
by the crowd inside, stepped out of the saloon and
into the street. Although the sergeant was much
the larger man, he was no equal for Bill, and in a
moment after the fight began the sergeant was
knocked down, and Bill was administering to him a
most severe thrashing. The soldiers, fourteen in
number, seeing their sergeant at great disadvan-
tage, and in danger of never getting back to camp
with a sound body, rushed in to his assistance,
some with clubs, and others with stones, seemingly
determined to kill Bill. Paddy Welch was near at
hand, and seeing the desperate position he occupied,
ran into the crowd and succeeded in placing the two
revolvers in his hands. In another moment he dis-
charged a shot which killed one of the soldiers, and
would have done more terrible execution but for the
crowd that was on him, which prevented him from
using his hands.
When the first soldier fell dead there was a hasty


LIFE OF WILD BILL
51
dispersion of the others, but only to get their pistols,
which were near at hand, and to renew the attack.
For a few minutes there was rapid firing, and three
more of the soldiers fell, one of them dead, and the
other two mortally wounded. The odds were too
great for Bill, and though he was struck with seven
bullets, he managed to escape from the crowd and
get out of town. Night coming on very soon after
the fight was over, enabled Bill to cross Smoky river
and secrete himself several miles from the town,
where he remained lying in a buffalo wallow for two
days, caring for his wounds. He was hit three times
in the arms, once in the side and three times in the
legs. None of the wounds were serious, but he was
compelled to tear up his shirt and drawers for banda-
ges to stop the flow of blood.
On the following day after the fight, Gen. Sheri-
dan ordered a detachment of cavalry to go in pur-
suit of Bill, and, using his own words, “ to take him
dead or alive," but, although the pursuit was entered
into earnestly, they never found the object of their
search.
After getting able to travel, which was on the third
day, Bill managed to drag his sore and hungry body
down to Bill Williams' ranche, where he was ten-
derly cared for. No one can imagine the suffering
he endured during the two days he lay in the buffalo
wallow. His wounds, though but flesh injuries, gave
him excruciating pain. He drew his bocts, which
were filled with blood, and was unable to put them


52
LIFE OF WILD BILL
on again. He lost his hat during the fight, and,
after tearing up his underclothes, he literally had no
protection from the chill and damp of the night.
When he attempted to rise from the ground, the
agony he suffered was as intense as mortal could
bear; but notwithstanding the pain he endured, the
excessive hunger which began to oppress and
weaken him, compelled him to make the effort to
reach Williams' ranche, which he succeeded in do-
ing, as before stated.
After remaining at the ranche a few days, Bill sent
for his friend Whitney, then sheriff of Ellsworth
county, he having succeeded Capt. Kingsbury, and
by him Bill was taken to Ellsworth. But the con-
stant dread of detection made it advisable for Bill to
leave Ellsworth, which he did in a few days, by the
kindly assistance of Jim Bomon, a conductor of a
freight train on the Kansas Pacific railroad, who
locked him in a box car and brought him to Junction
City. At this place Bill received proper surgical
attention and soon recovered.
A DEATH FIGHT WITH TEXAS GAMBLERS.
The removal of the Seventh Cavalry from Hays
City gave Bill immunity from danger from that
quarter, and though he did not return to that place,
he accepted the office of city marshal of Abilene, a


LIFE OF WILD BILL.
53
town one hundred miles east of Hays City, and fre-
quently visited the latter place on business.
Abilene was the point from which all the cattle
from Texas for the Eastern markets were shipped.
Immense droves were daily brought into the place,
and with the cattle canie the drovers, a large major-
ity of whom were Texan desperadoes. The town
bristled with business, and crimes and drunkenness
became so common that by general consent Abilene
was called the Gomorrah of the West. Gamblers
and bad women, drunken cut-throats and pimps,
overshadowed all other society, and the carnival of
iniquity never ceased. The civil officers were plas-
tic to the touch of the ruffians, and the town was
ruled by intimidation.
When Bill assumed charge of the office of mar-
shal, the law and order class had hopes for a radical
change, and yet they were very doubtful of the abil-
ity of one man to curb the reckless and lawless
spirit of so many vicious desperadoes—men who
were familiar with the pistol and did not hesitate to.
murder and plunder, and who took pleasure in
“stampeding" the place.
In two days after Bill entered upon the discharge
of his duties, occasion presented for a manifestation
of his pluck. Phil. Cole, a gambler, and one of the
most dangerous men in the West, in company with
his pal, whose name cannot now be recalled, conclu-
ded to run the town after their own fashion for at
least one day. They began by smashing windows


54
LIFE OF WILD BILL.
promiscuously, insulting women, discharging their
pistols, and other like conduct. Bill met them while
they were in the midst of their deviltry, and under-
took their arrest. He knew Phil. Cole by reputation,
and was prepared for the fight he expected. Cole
told Bill that his arrest depended upon who was the
better man, and at once drew his pistol. McWil-
liams, Bill's deputy, stepped up and tried to pacify
Cole, and at the same time to secure his pistol, but
Cole was anxious for a fight and fired at Bill, but
missed his mark. Bill returned the fire, but at the
moment he pulled thu trigger of his pistol, Cole, in
his struggle, threw McWilliams in front of him and
the bullet from the pistol struck the faithful dep-
uty, killing him almost instantly. Cole's pal, who,
until this time, seemed a mute spectator of the af-
fray, then drew his pistol, and also fired at Bill, the
bullet passing through Bill's hat, and before Cole or
his mate could fire again, Bill had put a bullet
through the head of each, and the fight was ended.
The death of McWilliams was most sincerely de-
plored by everyone, but by none as it was by Bill,
and in years afterward he could not have the sad
event recalled to mind without crying like a child.
The killing of Cole was a most fortunate event for
the better class of citizens of Abilene, because it at
once improved the morals of the place. The men
who had for years before rioted at their pleasure, de-
fied the law and badgered decency, began to feel
that to continue in the same course would be to risk


60
LIFE OF WILD BILL
knees, with the view of using the chair as a sort of
breastwork. The instant he moved, a ball from
Thompson's pistol whistled passed his ear, and
struck the plate on the table in front of him. Before
another shot could be fired from the same course,
Bill jerked one of the two derringers he nearly al-
ways carried, from his pants pocket, and, whirling
on one knee, sent a bullet squarely into Thompson's
forehead. The man fell forward on his face without
uttering a sound, stone-dead; the dish of soup in the
waiter's hand tumbled onto the floor and broke into
fragments. Resuming his seat again at the table,
merely rising from his kneeling position, Bill told the
affrighted waiter to bring him that oyster stew he had
ordered, but the restaurant speedily filled with mor-
bid people, and there was too much excitement to
admit of serving stews thereafter. Bill was the least
excited of any, and after waiting a few moments, and
seeing that he could not get what he called for, he
went out of the place and took his oyster stew at
another restaurant. Of course he was arrested, but
as it was a clear case of self-defense, he was at once
discharged.
MAKES TWENTY MEN ASK AN APOLOGY.
In a few weeks after the killing of Thompson, Bill
again visited Ellsworth, and during this visit he met


LIFE OF WILD BILL.
65
Buntline made a hero out of such material as Bill
Cody (Buffalo Bill,) I've thought it time to drop out
of sight. I took Cody when he was left alone in the
world, a young lad, and partially raised him. Well,
I don't want to say anything against the boy, but his
pluck wouldn't go at par. I've kept a little diary of
all my exploits, and when I'm dead I'll be glad if it
falls into your hands, and from it you may be able
to write something interesting. When I die it will
be just as you now see me, and sickness will not be
the cause. For more than ten years I've been con-
stantly expecting to be killed, and it is certain to
come before a great while longer."
During this conversation Bill appeared to be unus-
ually sad, and when he referred to his death it was
with a seriousness which indicated that he had been
notified of his tragic end by some terrible presenti-
ment.
He was an expert poker-player, and followed
no other calling while in Kansas City. The place
was fairly filled with gamblers, and up to 1875 the
voice of the keno caller could be heard in nearly
every other building on Main street, between Mis-
souri avenue and Fourth street. The Marble block,
and houses on the west side of the square, were par-
ticularly the haunts of gamblers. Murders and rows
were not infrequent, but Bill kept out of all difficul-
ties. He was both feared and respected. His car-
riage was that of a peaceable gentleman, and during
the three years he made Kansas City his home, he


74
LIFE OF WILD BILL
was partially hid by a stiff goatee. The nose was what
is commonly called "snub;" he had cross eyes and
a florid complexion, which completed a more repul-
sive picture than Dore could conceive. He was clad
in a blue flannel shirt, brown overalls, heavy shoes,
and, as he sat in a stooping position, with his arms
folded across his breast, he evidently assumed a non-
chalance and bravado which were foreign to his feel-
ings, and betrayed by the spasmodic heavings of his
heart.
The selection of a jury consumed all the forenoon,
as it was next to impossible to select a man who
had not formed or expressed an opinion concerning
the murder, although but few who were in the panel
had heard of the tragedy until a few hours before.
A hundred names were selected, written upon sep-
arate scraps of paper, and placed in a hat. They
were then well shaken, and the committee appointed
for the purpose drew from the hat one name at a
time. The party answering to the name then came
forward and was examined by the judge touching
his fitness to serve as an impartial juror. Ninety-
two names were called from the panel before the
jury was made up. Following are those who were
selected and served: J. J. Bumfs, L. D. Grokow, J.
H. Thompson, C. Whitehead, Geo. S. Hopkins, J. F.
Cooper, Alexander Travis, K. F. Towle, John E.
Thompson, L. A. Judd, Edward Burke and John
Mann. The jurors being sworn, they took their
seats, and testimony for the prosecution was begun.


LIFE OF WILD BILL.
75
The first witness called was Charles Rich, who said
that he was in the saloon kept by Lewis & Mann on
the afternoon of the 2d, and was seated at a table
playing a game of poker with Wild Bill and several
others, when the prisoner, whom he identified, came
into the room, walked deliberately up to Wild Bill,
placed a pistol to the back of the deceased, and fired,
saying: “Take that!” Bill fell from the stool upon
which he had been su..ted without uttering a word.
Samuel Young testified that he was engaged in
the saloon; that he had just delivered $15 worth of
pocket checks to the deceased, and was returning to
his place behind the bar when he heard the report of
a pistol shot; turning around, he saw the prisoner at
the back of Wild Bill with a pistol in his hand
which he had just discharged; heard him say, “Take
that!"
Carl Mann was one of the proprietors of the sa-
loon in which Wild Bill was killed; was in the poker
game; noticed a commotion ; saw the prisoner (whom
he identified) shoot Wild Bill.
The defense called for the first witness, P. H. Smith,
who said he had been in the employ of McCall four
months; that he was not a man of quarrelsome dis-
position; that he had always considered him a man
of good character; that he (the witness) had been
introduced to Wild Bill in Cheyenne, and drank
with him; that the deceased had a bad reputation,
and had been the terror of every place in which he
had resided.


78
LIFE OF WILD BILL.
the creek. Charles Utter, better known as Colorado
Charley, had been the intimate friend of the de-
ceased for fifteen years, and with that liberality which
is a feature among mountaineers, had always shared
his purse with him. Charley was much affected by
the death of his friend, and incensed at the villain
who had murdered him. A tepee was pitched at
the foot of one of the giant trees which rise so ma-
jestically above Charley's camp. Preparations were
at once made for the funeral. The following notice
was printed and sent out:
“FUNERAL NOTICE.—Died in Deadwood, Black Hills, Aug. 2,
1876, from the effects of a pistol shot, J. B. Hickok (Wild Bill,) for-
merly of Cheyenne, Wyoming. Funeral services will be held at Char-
ley Utter's camp, on Thursday afternoon, Aug. 3, 1876, at 3 o'clock.
All are respectfully invited to attend."
At the time appointed a number of people gath-
ered at the camp-Charley Utter had gone to a great
deal of expense to make the funeral as fine as could
be had in that country. Under the tepee, in a
handsome coffin, covered with black cloth and richly
mounted with silver ornaments, lay Wild Bill, a pic-
ture of perfect repose. His long chestnut hair,
evenly parted over his marble brow, hung in waving
ringlets over the broad shoulders; his face was
cleanly shaved excepting the drooping moustache,
which shaded a mouth that in death almost seemed
to smile, but in life was unusually grave; the
arms were folded over the stilled breast, which in-
closed a heart that had beat with regular pulsation


LIFE OF WILD BILL
79
amid the most startling scenes of blood and vio-
lence. The corpse was clad in complete dress-suit
of black broadcloth, new underclothing and white
linen shirt; beside him in the coffin lay his trusty
rifle, which the deceased prized above all other things,
and which was to be buried with him in compliance
with an often expressed desire.
A clergyman read an impressive funeral service,
that was attentively listened to by the audience,
after which the coffin-lid hid the well-known face of
Wild Bill from the prying gaze of the world.
A grave had been prepared on the mountain side
toward the east, and to that place in the bright sun-
light, the air redolent with the perfume of sweet
flowers, the birds sweetly singing, and all nature
smiling, the solemn cortege wended its way and de-
posited the mortal remains of Wild Bill.
Upon a large stump at the head of the grave the
following inscription was deeply cut:
“A brave man; the victim of an assassin-J. B. Hickok (Wild
Bill) aged 48 years ; murdered by Jack McCall, Aug. 2, 1876."
JACK MCCALL PAYS THE PENALTY.
AFTER the farcical termination of the trial, and the
burial of Wild Bill, several friends of the deceased
met at Charley Utter's ranche and determined to
avenge the cowardly assassination of their friend.


LIFE OF WILD BILL
uncovered, out of respect for their dead friend, they
exhumed the body and took off the coffin-lid to take
a last look before transferring the remains to Mount
Moriah cemetery, at Deadwood. It was a sad sight
to the eyes of friends. There was scarcely a per-
ceptible change in the body, excepting a darker
color of the face. The features were all preserved
with remarkable naturalness. There was the shat-
tered wound in the right cheek, made by the cruel
bullet which took his life, but the countenance bore
a tranquil look, as though the wearer was glad to es-
cape a world in which there was nothing but buffet
and anxiety to him. The lips wore a placid appear-
ancema smile of peace, the graceful contour of con-
tent.
The extraordinary weight of the body caused the
friends to make a more careful examination, when it
was found that the remains were in process of petri-
faction. The hair still bore its silken lustre, but the
flesh was so indurated as to approach the solidity of
wood. The weight of the body at the interment
was one hundred and sixty pounds, but at the ex-
humation it weighed a fraction less than three hun-
dred pounds.
The carbine that was buried with him was in a
perfect state of preservation. After clipping off a
lock of hair, which is now in the possession of Wil-
liam Learned, musical director of the Gem theater,
at Deadwood, the coffin lid was again screwed down,
and the remains taken to Moriah cemetery, where


LIFE OF WILD BILL
BLACK NELL, THE WONDERFUL MARE.
During the early part of the war, Wild Bill came
into possession of a young black mare, having cap-
tured her from a bushwhacker during Price's inva-
sion of Missouri. The mare was as black as a coal,
and at the proper age to enter upon the course of train-
ing Bill put her in. She was full of fire, and the ex-
quisite symmetry of her head, neck, limbs and body,
showed the pure blooded stock that was in her.
Bill devoted all his leisure time for more than a year
teaching the mare tricks which afterwards he used to
so much advantage. The mare at length acquired
such a complete understanding of Bill's wishes that
her obedience was truly marvelous. First of all, no
one could ride or approach the mare except Bill, and
to him she was as gentle as a mother to her child.
He named her Black Nell, presumably suggested by
Claude Duval's Black Bess, of whose exploits he
was so fond of reading.
Black Nell was usually allowed great freedom,
because she was so prompt to answer the whistle of
Bill; she would leave her feed and come galloping
to the call with the most astonishing alacrity. While
riding Nell it was only necessary for Bill to wave his
hand to set her in a dead run or stop her instantly.
A downward motion of his hand would cause her
to drop as suddenly as if she had been shot dead,
and she would lie perfectly still until the command


LIFE OF WILD BILL
to rise was given. On one occasion, while Bill was
being pursued by a detachment of bushwackers, in
passing through a prairie where the grass was very
high, his life was saved by the prompt obedience
of Nell in dropping down and remaining so quiet
that the pursuers passed by within fifty feet without
discovering him.
In 1867, while he was in Springfield, Missouri,
he astonished a crowd of saloon-loafers by first go-
ing into the bar-room and calling his mare to follow.
Nell came in, following her master like a dog, with-
out the slightest hesitation. There was an old bill-
iard table in the saloon, too much worn for further
service, and upon this he ordered Nell to place her-
self. She reared up and placed her fore feet upon
the table, but it was only after repeated effort and
great strain that she succeeded in raising her hind
feet to such a height. After getting upon the table,
Bill poured out a pint of whisky into a wash-basin,
which Nell drank with evident relish. At a wave of
the hand she leaped from the table and out into the
street, where Bill allowed her to exercise her free-
dom for several hours.
One of Nell's greatest accomplishments was leap-
ing, and in this she certainly never had an equal.
She had frequently leaped ditches twenty feet in
width with apparent ease, and Bill had no hesitancy
whatever in riding her over a six feet fence, which
she could clear like a deer. This wonderful animal
died in 1869, of a complication of diseases, and was


92
LIFE OF WILD BILL
that a rhetorician would analyze a sentence, and his
failures were as few as his successes were conspicu-
ous. Wild Bill was essentially great in many re-
spects and callings. He was undoubtedly the great-
est scout and conservator of the peace that ever
crossed the plains; as a spy and strategist he has,
perhaps, never had an equal. The service he has
rendered the country at large, and the West in par-
ticular, cannot be estimated. Abilene and Hays
City, the people of which places he served so effec-
tively, cannot afford to withhold their respect for the
memory of Wild Bill, and it would be as creditable
to the people of Kansas as it would be deserving to
the brave heart that was stilled by the assassin's bul.
let, to bring the remains vi Wild Bill into their state
and give it a resting place among the most illustrious
of their dead. If ever a hero deserved a monument,
Wild Bill is worthy a shaft that would rear ts apex
so high as to overlook every spot of territory be-
tween the great Missouri and the Rocky Mountains.
Kansas was his home and first-love; will the people
of Kansas make the state his sepulchre ?



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Wild Bill's Grave in Mount Moriah Cemetery, Deadwood.