In the latter part of 1865, Wild Bill went to Springfield, Missouri,
where he remained some time. It was while at this place that he fought
a duel with Dave Tutt in the public square, and, as usual, killed
his man, and came out of the encounter scathless The particulars of
this affair are as follows: Springfield became a meeting place, after
the war, of Confederates and Union men. Both sides recruited their
forces from this section, and though the war had ended, many of the
animosities then engendered 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 Dave Tutt, a man of terrible passion, strong revenge,
and one withal who had his private graveyard. He and Bill had met
before; in fact, had shared the smiles of the same woman, 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
manufacture. 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 Bill sat down to the game he drew out his heavy gold
watch and laid it on the table, remarking that he intended to quit the
game promptly at 12 o’clock. After nearly two hours playing he had won
two hundred dollars, the greater part of which had come from Dave as a
loan to his friend. Having broke the friend and Dave also, the latter
remarked, “Bill, you’ve got money now, so pay me that forty dollars
you’ve been owing me so long.”
“All right,” replied Bill, “there’s your money,” and thereupon passed
the forty dollars to Dave.
“Now,” remarked Dave, further, “I want that thirty-five dollars I won
off you Friday night.”
Bill’s reply was very courteous: “Beg your pardon, Dave, it was only
twenty-five dollars; I put the amount down in my memorandum-book at the
time.”
Receiving this mild reply, Dave reached across the table and took
Bill’s watch, with the remark, “You’ll never get this watch until you
pay me that thirty-five dollars.”
This threw Bill into a violent passion, although he restrained himself.
Rising from his chair and looking piercingly into Dave’s eyes, he said:
“I am anxious to avoid a row in this gentleman’s house. You had better
put that watch back on the table.”
Dave returned an ugly look, and walked out of the room with the watch.
It was the only time, perhaps, in Bill’s life, that he permitted
himself to be thus bullied. Everyone who knew him thought he had lost
his pluck. It was indeed 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 going 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 appearance 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.
[Illustration: “Are you Satisfied.”]
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 Bill, he drew his pistol; there was a report as of a
single discharge, and Dave Tutt fell dead with a bullet through his
heart. The moment Bill discharged his pistol--both pistols having been
fired at the same instant--without taking note of the result of his
shot, he turned on the crowd with his pistol leveled, and asked if
they were satisfied; twenty or more blanched faces said they were, and
pronounced the fight a square one. Bill expected to have to kill more
than one man that day, but none of Dave’s friends considered it policy
to appeal the result.
Bill was arrested, but at the preliminary examination he was discharged
on the ground of self-defense. The verdict may not have been in
accordance with the well defined principles of criminal jurisprudence,
but it was sufficient, for all who know the circumstances believe that
Tutt got his deserts.