CHAPTER XIII

In the preceding chapters I have sketched briefly some of the most

interesting of my adventures on the Plains. It has been necessary to

omit much that I would like to have told. For twenty years my life was

one of almost continuous excitement, and to tell the whole story would

require many volumes.

It was because of my great interest in the West, and my belief that its

development would be assisted by the interest I could awaken in others,

that I decided to bring the West to the East through the medium of the

Wild West Show. How greatly I was to succeed in this venture I had no

idea when it first occurred to me. As I have told you, I had already

appeared in a small Western show, and was the first man to bring

Indians to the East and exhibit them. But the theater was too small to

give any real impression of what Western life was like. Only in an

arena where horses could be ridden at full gallop, where lassos could

be thrown, and pistols and guns fired without frightening the audience

half to death, could such a thing be attempted.

After getting together a remarkable collection of Indians, cowboys,

Indian ponies, stage-coach drivers, and other typical denizens of my

own country under canvas I found myself almost immediately prosperous.

We showed in the principal cities of the country, and everywhere the

novelty of the exhibition drew great crowds. As owner and principal

actor in the enterprise I met the leading citizens of the United States

socially, and never lost an opportunity to "talk up" the Western

country, which I believed to have a wonderful future. I worked hard on

the program of the entertainment, taking care to make it realistic in

every detail. The wigwam village, the Indian war-dance, the chant of

the Great Spirit as it was sung on the Plains, the rise and fall of the

famous tribes, were all pictured accurately.

It was not an easy thing to do. Sometimes I had to send men on journeys

of more than a hundred miles to get the right kind of war-bonnets, or

to make correct copies of the tepees peculiar to a particular tribe. It

was my effort, in depicting the West, to depict it as it was. I was

much gratified in after years to find that scientists who had carefully

studied the Indians, their traditions and habits, gave me credit for

making very valuable contributions to the sum of human knowledge of the

American native.

The first presentation of my show was given in May, 1883, at Omaha,

which I had then chosen as my home. From there we made our first summer

tour, visiting practically every important city in the country.

For my grand entrance I made a spectacle which comprised the most

picturesque features of Western life. Sioux, Arapahoes, Brulés, and

Cheyennes in war-paint and feathers led the van, shrieking their

war-whoops and waving the weapons with which they were armed in a

manner to inspire both terror and admiration in the tenderfoot

audience.

Next came cowboys and soldiers, all clad exactly as they were when

engaged in their campaigns against the Indians, and lumbering along in

the rear were the old stage-coaches which carried the settlers to the

West in the days before the railroad made the journey easy and

pleasant.

I am sure the people enjoyed this spectacle, for they flocked in crowds

to see it. I know I enjoyed it. There was never a day when, looking

back over the red and white men in my cavalcade, I did not know the

thrill of the trail, and feel a little sorry that my Western adventures

would thereafter have to be lived in spectacles.

Without desiring to dim the glory of any individual I can truthfully

state that the expression "rough riders," which afterward became so

famous, was my own coinage. As I rode out at the front of my parade I

would bow to the audience, circled about on the circus benches, and

shout at the top of my voice:

"Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to introduce you to the rough riders

of the world!"

For three years we toured the United States with great success. One day

an Englishman, whose name I never learned, came to see me after the

show.

"That is a wonderful performance," he told me. "Here in America it

meets with great appreciation, but you have no idea what a sensation it

would be in the Old World, where such things are unheard of."

That set me to thinking. In a few days, after spending hours together

considering the matter, I had made up my mind that Europe should have

an opportunity to study America as nearly at first-hand as possible

through the medium of my entertainment.

Details were soon arranged. In March, 1886, I chartered the steamer

_State of Nebraska_, loaded my Indians, cowboys, horses, and

stage-coaches on board, and set sail for another continent.

It was a strange voyage. The Indians had never been to sea before, and

had never dreamed that such an expanse of water existed on the planet.

They would stand at the rail, after the first days of seasickness were

over, gazing out across the waves, and trying to descry something that

looked like land, or a tree, or anything that seemed familiar and like

home. Then they would shake their heads disconsolately and go below, to

brood and muse and be an extremely unhappy and forlorn lot of savages.

The joy that seized them when at last they came in sight of land, and

were assured that we did not intend to keep on sailing till we fell

over the edge of the earth, was something worth looking at.

At Gravesend we sighted a tug flying the American colors, and when the

band on board responded to our cheers with "The Star-Spangled Banner"

even the Indians tried to sing. Our band replied with "Yankee Doodle,"

and as we moved toward port there was more noise on board than I had

ever heard in any battle on the Plains.

When the landing was made the members of the party were sent in special

coaches to London. Crowds stared at us from every station. The guards

on the train were a little afraid of the solemn and surly-looking

Indians, but they were a friendly and jovial crowd, and when they had

recovered from their own fright at the strange surroundings they were

soon on good terms with the Britishers.

Major John M. Burke, who was my lifetime associate in the show

business, had made all arrangements for housing the big troupe. We went

to work at our leisure with our preparations to astonish the British

public, and succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. The big London

amphitheater, a third of a mile in circumference, was just the place

for such an exhibition. The artist's brush was employed on lavish scale

to reproduce the scenery of the Western Plains. I was busy for many

days with preparations, and when our spectacle was finally given it was

received with such a burst of enthusiasm as I had never witnessed

anywhere.

The show began, after the grand entry, with the hour of dawn on the

Plains. Wild animals were scattered about. Within their tents were the

Indians sleeping. As the dawn deepened the Indians came out of their

tents and went through one of their solemn and impressive war-dances.

While this was going on the British audience held its breath. You could

have heard a whisper in almost any part of the arena.

Then in came a courier to announce the neighborhood of a hostile tribe.

Instantly there was a wild scramble for mounts and weapons. The enemy

rushed in, and for ten minutes there was a sham battle which filled the

place with noise and confusion. This battle was copied as exactly as it

could be copied from one of the scrimmages in which I had taken part in

my first days as a scout. Then we gave them a buffalo hunt, in which I

had a hand, and did a little fancy shooting. As a finish there was a

Wild Western cyclone, and a whole Indian village was blown out of

existence for the delectation of the English audience.

The initial performance was given before the Prince and Princess of

Wales, afterward King Edward and his Queen, and their suite. At the

close of the program the Prince and Princess, at their own request,

were introduced to all the leading members of the company, including

many of the Indians. When the cowgirls of the show were presented to

the Princess they stepped forward and offered their hands, which were

taken and well shaken in true democratic fashion.

Red Shirt, the most important chief in the outfit, was highly pleased

when he learned that a princess was to visit him in his camp. He had

the Indian gift of oratory, and he replied to her greeting with a long

and eloquent speech, in which his gestures, if not his words, expressed

plainly the honor he felt in receiving so distinguished a lady. The

fact that he referred to Alexandria as a squaw did not seem to mar her

enjoyment.

That the Prince was really pleased with the exhibition was shown by the

fact that he made an immediate report of it to his mother. Shortly

thereafter I received a command from Queen Victoria to appear before

her.

This troubled me a good deal--not that I was not more than eager to

obey this flattering command, but that I was totally at a loss how to

take my show to any of the great residences occupied by Her Majesty.

Finally, after many cautious inquiries, I discovered that she would be

willing to visit the show if a special box was prepared for her. This

we did to the best of our ability. The box was placed upon a dais

covered with crimson velvet and handsomely decorated. When the Queen

arrived I met her at the door of the box, with my sombrero in my hand

and welcomed her to "the Wild West of America."

One of the first acts in the performance was to carry the flag to the

front. This was done by a soldier. Walking around the arena, he offered

the Stars and Stripes as an emblem of the friendship of America to all

the world. On this occasion he carried the flag directly to the royal

box, and dipped it three times before the Queen.

Absolute silence fell over the great throng. Then the Queen rose and

saluted the flag with a bow, her suite following her example. There was

a wild cheer from everyone in the show, Indians included, and soon all

the audience was on its feet, cheering and waving flags and

handkerchiefs.

This gave us a fine start and we never put on a better performance.

When it was all over Her Majesty sent for me, and paid me many

compliments as well as to my country and the West. I found her a most

gracious and charming woman, with none of the haughtiness which I had

supposed was inseparable from a person of such exalted rank. My

subsequent experiences with royalty convinced me that there is more

real democracy among the rulers of the countries of Europe than you

will find among the petty officials of a village.

It was interesting to watch old Red Shirt when he was presented to the

Queen. He clearly felt that this was a ceremony between one ruler and

another, and the dignity with which he went through the introduction

was wonderful to behold. One would have thought to watch him that most

of his life was spent in introductions to kings and queens, and that he

was really a little bored with the effort required to go through with

them. A second command from the Queen resulted in an exhibition before

a number of her royal guests, including the Kings of Saxony, Denmark,

and Greece, the Queen of the Belgians, and the Crown Prince of Austria.

The Deadwood coach, one of the features of the show, was of particular

interest to my royal guests. This was a coach with a history. It was

built in Concord, N.H., and sent by water to San Francisco to run over

a route infested with road-agents. A number of times it was held up and

robbed. Finally, both driver and passengers were killed and the coach

abandoned on the trail. It remained for a long time a derelict, but was

afterward brought into San Francisco by an old stage-driver and placed

on the Overland trail.

As it worked its way East over the Overland route its old luck held

steadily. Again were driver and passengers massacred; again it was

abandoned. At last, when it was "hoodooed" all over the West and no

independent driver or company would have anything to do with it I

discovered it, bought it, and used it for my show.

One of the incidents of my program, as all who have seen it will

remember, was an Indian attack on this coach. The royal visitors wanted

a real taste of Western life--insisted on it, in fact, and the Kings of

Denmark, Greece, Saxony, and the Crown Prince of Austria climbed to the

box with me.

I had secretly instructed the Indians to throw a little real energy

into their pursuit of the coach, and they followed my instructions

rather more completely than I expected. The coach was surrounded by a

demoniac band of shooting and shouting Indians. Blank cartridges were

discharged at perilously close proximity to the rulers of four great

nations. Looking around to quiet my followers, I saw that the guests of

the occasion were a trifle pale, but they were all of them game, and

came out of the affair far less scared than were the absolutely

terrified members of the royal suites, who sat in their boxes and wrung

their hands in wild alarm.

In recognition of this performance the Prince of Wales sent me a

souvenir consisting of a feathered crest, outlined in diamonds, with

the words "Ich dien" worked in jewels underneath. A note in the

Prince's own hand expressed the pleasure of his guests in the

entertainment I had provided for them.

After a tour of the principal cities we returned to America, proud of

our success, and well rewarded in purse for our effort.

The welcome to America was almost as elaborate as that from England. I

quote from the description of it printed in the New York _World_:

The harbor probably has never witnessed a more picturesque scene

than that of yesterday, when the _Persian Monarch_ steamed up from

Quarantine. Buffalo Bill stood on the captain's bridge, his tall

and striking figure clearly outlined, and his long hair waving in

the wind; the gaily painted and blanketed Indians leaned over the

ship's rail; the flags of all nations fluttered from the masts and

connecting cables. The cowboy band played "Yankee Doodle" with a

vim and enthusiasm which faintly indicated the joy felt by

everybody connected with the "Wild West" over the sight of home.

Shortly after my arrival I was much pleased by the receipt of the

following letter:

FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL, NEW YORK.

COLONEL WM. F. CODY:

_Dear Sir_--In common with all your countrymen, I want to let you

know that I am not only gratified but proud of your management and

success. So far as I can make out, you have been modest, graceful,

and dignified in all you have done to illustrate the history of

civilization on this continent during the past century. I am

especially pleased with the compliment paid you by the Prince of

Wales, who rode with you in the Deadwood coach while it was

attacked by Indians and rescued by cowboys. Such things did occur

in our days, but they never will again.

As nearly as I can estimate, there were in 1865 about nine and

one-half million of buffaloes on the Plains between the Missouri

River and the Rocky Mountains; all are now gone, killed for their

meat, their skins, and their bones. This seems like desecration,

cruelty, and murder, yet they have been replaced by twice as many

cattle. At that date there were about 165,000 Pawnees, Sioux,

Cheyennes, and Arapahoes, who depended upon these buffaloes for

their yearly food. They, too, have gone, but they have been

replaced by twice or thrice as many white men and women, who have

made the earth to blossom as the rose, and who can be counted,

taxed, and governed by the laws of Nature and civilization. This

change has been salutary, and will go on to the end. You have

caught one epoch of this country's history, and have illustrated it

in the very heart of the modern world--London--and I want you to

feel that on this side of the water we appreciate it.

This drama must end; days, years, and centuries follow fast; even

the drama of civilization must have an end. All I aim to accomplish

on this sheet of paper is to assure you that I fully recognize your

work. The presence of the Queen, the beautiful Princess of Wales,

the Prince, and the British public are marks of favor which reflect

back on America sparks of light which illuminate many a house and

cabin in the land where once you guided me honestly and faithfully,

in 1865-66, from Fort Riley to Kearney, in Kansas and Nebraska.

Sincerely your friend,

W.T. SHERMAN.

Our next descent on Europe was made in the steamer _Persian Monarch_,

which was again chartered. This time our destination was France. The

Parisians received the show with as much favor as had the Londoners.

Everything American became the fad during our stay. Fashionable young

men bought American and Mexican saddles for their rides in the Bois.

Cowboy hats appeared everywhere on the street. There was a great cry

for stories of the Plains and all the books that could be found that

dealt with the West were translated into the French language. Relics

from the Plains and mountains, bows, moccasins, and Indian baskets,

sold like hot cakes in the souvenir stores.

While in the city I accepted an invitation from Rosa Bonheur to visit

her at her superb château. In return I extended her the freedom of the

show, and she made many studies from life of the fine animals I had

brought over with me. She also painted a portrait of me on my favorite

horse--a picture which I immediately sent home to my wife.

Our sojourn in Rome was lively with incident. The Prince of Simonetta,

who visited the show, declared that he had some wild horses in his

stable which no cowboy could ride. The challenge was promptly taken up

by some of the dare-devils in my party. That the horses might not run

amuck and injure anyone, special booths were erected in the show arena,

where the trial was to be made.

The greatest enthusiasm was manifested by the Romans in the

performance, and it was clear to me that most of them looked eagerly

forward to the mortal injury of some of the members of my company. The

Latin delight in sports like those of the old Roman arena had by no

means died out.

When the horses were loosed in the ring they sprang into the air,

snorted, kicked up their heels, and plainly defied any of the cowboys

to do so much as to lay a hand on them. But in less time than I can

tell it the plainsmen had sent their lassos hurtling through the air,

and the horses discovered that they had met their masters. The

audience, always strong for the winners, forgot their disappointment in

the absence of fatalities, and howled with delight as the cowboys, one

after another, mounted the fractious horses and trotted them

submissively about the arena. We closed this tour of Europe, which was

successful to the end, with a second visit to England.

I have now come to the end of my story. It is a story of "The Great

West that Was," a West that is gone forever.

All my interests are still with the West--the modern West. I have a

number of homes there, the one I love best being in the wonderful Big

Horn Valley, which I hope one day to see one of the garden spots of the

world.

In concluding, I want to express the hope that the dealings of this

Government of ours with the Indians will always be just and fair. They

were the inheritors of the land that we live in. They were not capable

of developing it, or of really appreciating its possibilities, but they

owned it when the White Man came, and the White Man took it away from

them. It was natural that they should resist. It was natural that they

employed the only means of warfare known to them against those whom

they regarded as usurpers. It was our business, as scouts, to be

continually on the warpath against them when they committed

depredations. But no scout ever hated the Indians in general.

There have been times when the Government policy toward the Indians has

been unwise and unjust. That time, I trust, has passed forever. There

are still many thousand Indians in the country, most of them engaged in

agricultural pursuits. Indian blood has added a certain rugged strength

to the characters of many of our Western citizens. At least two United

States Senators are part Indian, and proud of it.

The Indian makes a good citizen, a good farmer, a good soldier. He is a

real American, and all those of us who have come to share with him the

great land that was his heritage should do their share toward seeing

that he is dealt with justly and fairly, and that his rights and

liberties are never infringed by the scheming politician or the

short-sighted administration of law.

THE END

An Autobiography of Buffalo Bill (Colonel W. F. Cody) · 第 13 / 13 章