"BILL" HICKOK, CITY MARSHAL.
"Wild Bill" Hickok, who had been city marshal at Abilene, Kan., blew
into Cheyenne in 1874 along with Texas Charley and a few more "bad men."
Things were booming in the Wyoming metropolis. Gold had been discovered
in the Black Hills, and the crowds of fortune-seekers from every point
of the compass had begun to flock in. Men were there from South Africa,
Brazil, California and Australia, intermingling with the New Englander,
the Middle Westerners, the cowboys and bullwhackers and others attracted
by the reports of fabulous discoveries. Cheyenne was the chief
outfitting point for a trip into the hills, although thousands tramped
through the sands of the Bad Lands to the new Eldorado via Fort Pierre.
It meant big work for the small police force of Cheyenne, for there
were, besides the "killers" of the "Wild Bill" order, garroters and
other crooks from near and far to look after. Gambling didn't bother the
authorities at all, and such characters as "Canada Bill," the most
famous of all the confidence men, were, as a matter of fact, able to
ply their trade almost unmolested.
"Canada Bill" had the appearance of a Methodist preacher of that period,
wearing a black broadcloth, long-tailed coat, trousers of the same
material, a black felt hat, "biled" shirt and black bow tie. He carried
an old-fashioned satchel made of oil cloth, a pattern of which is seen
nowadays only on the vaudeville stage. "Bill" was certainly an
innocent-looking individual--solemn-faced and perfectly
harmless--apparently. He spent most of his time on the U. P. passenger
trains between Omaha and Cheyenne and is said to have swindled travelers
out of an aggregate of $100,000 at three-card monte, a form of swindling
in great vogue at that time. Cheyenne was his headquarters and he was
almost as well known as any man in the town; but he followed his
profession practically undisturbed for several years, and I doubt if he
ever spent a day in jail. Has victims included some men who prided
themselves on their shrewdness.
"Wild Bill" Hickok was perhaps the best known "character" in Cheyenne in
the 70's. He, too, was a ministerial-looking person, but was not a
confidence operator. He was just a plain gambler, and not a very good
one, but he managed to escape the halter every time he put a notch in
his gun. "Bill" killed no one in Cheyenne; in fact, his days there were
quiet and prosy. His killings were all done in Kansas at the time the K.
P. was being built from the Missouri to Denver. When in Cheyenne he was
on his last legs--had begun, as they say nowadays, to slow up.
Nevertheless, he was feared by a great many, owing to his reputation,
although among certain classes it was generally understood that he had
lost his nerve. This was demonstrated while the Black Hills excitement
was at its height. "Bill" was more than six feet tall, straight and
thin. He carried two big revolvers in his belt and they protruded
sometimes from the side of his long broadcloth coat. He also carried a
bowie knife. But for all this and his reputation, he weakened one night
when an undersized little California _buccaro_ challenged him to walk
into the street and fight a duel at twenty paces. "Bill" laid down,
saying his eyes had gone back on him and that his shooting days were
over.
Shortly after this incident the Cheyenne authorities decided to rid the
town of a few of the worst criminals, so they tacked a notice on
telegraph poles containing a list of a dozen or more names of men,
headed by "Wild Bill," giving them twenty-four hours' time to get out of
town. When "Bill" saw the notice he smiled, and with his bowie knife cut
the notice into ribbons, and he stayed until he got ready to leave some
months later. He went to Custer City, then to Deadwood, where he met his
death at the hands of an avenger, who shot him in the back as he sat in
a poker game. His murderer claimed "Bill" had killed his brother in
Kansas and said he had followed him for two years, waiting for a chance
to kill him. "Bill" had a rule of life that he violated the night he
died, and that was never to sit with his back to a door or window. On
the fatal night he sat with his back to a half-open door into which the
avenger crept.
"Wild Bill" was a "road agent" (a highwayman) long before the Black
Hills stampede and frequently entertained a crowd with descriptions of
the raids he and his pals made upon the Mormon emigrants when they were
enroute from Nauvoo, Ill., to Salt Lake. According to his own stories he
was a heartless brute. Many deeds, however, that have been laid at his
door, and others that he bragged about, were never committed. It has
been estimated that he murdered all the way from fifteen to thirty men,
but most of these were killed while he was marshal.
One story that used to be told in Cheyenne, but which was not
authenticated, was that on one occasion at Abilene he entered a
restaurant for breakfast and ordered ham and eggs "turned over." The
waiter returned with the eggs fried on one side and "Bill" angrily said:
"I told you to have them eggs turned over!"
Whereupon the waiter playfully gave the dish a flip and turned them
over. This so angered "Bill" that he shot the waiter dead, and then
finished his meal, the poor waiter's body lying at his feet.
There was so much garroting of men who came to Cheyenne to join the
rush into the hills that some of the wiser ones slipped outside the town
at night and slept on the prairie, while others, armed to the teeth,
either walked the streets or formed companies with guards for
protection. It was a condition of affairs that gave the authorities more
than they could handle at the start. However, after the first few months
of excitement Cheyenne began to be good, and soon the civilization and
order of older communities was apparent on every hand.
The railroad shortened the distance between the frontier and "God's
Country," and before one could realize it Cheyenne was as orderly and
well behaved as Worcester, Mass. So it is today. "Wild Bill," "Texas
Jack," "Canada Bill" and the thieves and gamblers, with their guns and
daggers, are forgotten; and if some of them could come back and tramp
the streets again they would be as great curiosities as they would be on
Broadway, New York, or State Street, Chicago--and they would land in
jail or get out of town unless they walked a chalk-mark.
Cheyenne has long been in "God's country," although at the time
discussed it was a long way over the line.