By Michael D. King
Before Hollywood immortalized icons like John Wayne and Clint Eastwood, and before the thrilling tales in dime novels captivated imaginations with daring lawmen and nefarious villains, there was a captivating figure named Stuart N. Lake. A former press aide, wrestling promoter, and World War I veteran, Lake emerged as an unlikely architect of the mythology surrounding the American West, crafting a legacy forged from a mix of embellished truths and masterful storytelling. His most notable work, the groundbreaking 1931 bestseller "Wyatt Earp: Frontier Marshal", did more than simply recount Earp's life; it solidified the archetype of the Western hero in the American psyche. Yet, the story of Stuart N. Lake is as riveting and intricate as the legends he wove—an exploration of a man who understood the allure of a compelling narrative, even if it meant bending the truth just a little bit. ![]()
Born in 1889 in Rome, New York, Lake's early life gave little hint of his future as a chronicler of the frontier. His experience as a press aide to Theodore Roosevelt during the tumultuous Bull Moose presidential campaign of 1912 sharpened his skills in shaping public opinion. Later, he ventured into the flashy world of professional wrestling, where showmanship often reigned supreme—a fitting precursor for his storytelling career.
The turning point in Lake's journey occurred, surprisingly, not in a dusty Western town but in the vibrant streets of New York City. While working as a journalist, he crossed paths with the legendary lawman Bat Masterson, who sensed the public's growing hunger for tales of the Old West and nudged Lake toward the man who would become synonymous with frontier justice: Wyatt Earp. By the late 1920s, Earp was an elderly man living in relative obscurity. Seizing an opportunity, Lake sought him out, conducting a series of interviews that would lay the groundwork for *Wyatt Earp: Frontier Marshal*. The book, published just two years after Earp's death, became an instant classic, portraying Earp not as a multifaceted figure with his share of controversies but as a valiant hero—a white knight gallantly roaming the plains. While the book's success was undeniable, its historical precision raised eyebrows. Critics and historians have since unraveled Lake's narrative, revealing a complex web woven with threads of exaggeration, invention, and pure fiction. One of the standout myths Lake fostered was that of the "Buntline Special," a long-barreled Colt .45 reportedly gifted to Earp and his lawman colleagues. There's just one problem: no credible historical evidence supports that Earp ever owned such a weapon!
Lake's storytelling manipulated timelines, embellished incidents, and polished Earp's character to present him as a flawless icon for public admiration. The messy realities of Earp's life, filled with complicated relationships and dubious methods, conveniently fell by the wayside. Lake didn't just write a biography; he created a resounding legend.
The impact of "Wyatt Earp: Frontier Marshal" was nothing short of revolutionary. It resurrected Earp from the shadows of history and catapulted him into the national spotlight. The book's thrilling narrative served as a blueprint for a multitude of Western films and television shows, with Hollywood eagerly embracing Lake's romanticized vision of the Old West.
Stuart N. Lake passed away in 1964, leaving behind a complex legacy. Was he a historian or a huckster? A biographer or a mythmaker? Perhaps the most fitting answer lies in a line from John Ford's iconic Western, "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance": "When the legend becomes fact, print the legend." Stuart N. Lake didn't just print the legend; he crafted it. In doing so, he indelibly shaped our collective memory of the American West, ensuring its tales would resonate for generations to come.
Below Stuart N. Lake Meets Merritt Beeson in Dodge City, Kansas
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In the sun-baked expanse of Dodge City, Kansas, around 1930, a captivating photograph makes its rounds on Facebook, shared by the page “Old Historical Reflections.” This striking image captures a quiet yet significant moment in Western lore—Stuart N. Lake, the man who would immortalize Wyatt Earp, is deep in conversation with Merritt Beeson, the son of the illustrious Dodge City marshal, Chalkley Beeson. The post reveals that Lake was diligently conducting research for what would become his groundbreaking biography, “Wyatt Earp: Frontier Marshal” (1931). It’s a snapshot that not only freezes time but also highlights the intersection of history and legend in the American West. (Photo Courtesy Boot Hill Museum of Dodge City, Kansas)
The Marshal's Maker: Stuart N. Lake and the Invention of an American Hero
The Book:"Wyatt Earp: Frontier Marshal"
"Wyatt Earp: Frontier Marshal" is a book that embodies the power of storytelling through profound contradictions. While it falls short as a historical biography—marked by fabrications, deliberate omissions, and exaggerations—it shines brilliantly as a masterpiece of American myth-making. Stuart Lake didn't simply write about Wyatt Earp; he crafted the iconic version that the 20th and 21st centuries would come to admire. His work stands as a powerful reminder that a compelling narrative can resonate deeply, becoming more influential—and seemingly more "real" in the public consciousness—than the complex and often inconvenient truths of history.
The analysis reveals that Lake, with the enthusiastic support of an elderly Earp seeking a polished legacy and the careful oversight of his widow, Josephine, constructed a heroic ideal through an active process of creation and curation. Using a hagiographic writing style, Lake presented Earp as the "greatest gun-fighting marshal the Old West ever knew." He invented key events like the "Ellsworth Showdown" to provide his hero with a legacy of superiority while systematically omitting facts that might tarnish Earp's reputation, such as his early criminal charges, associations with prostitution, and even the existence of his first two wives, Urilla Sutherland and Mattie Blaylock. He transformed a complex local feud in Tombstone into a national epic, illustrating it as a battle between the forces of civilization and savagery. The legacy of this carefully crafted myth has been profound and enduring. Lake's book set the standard for nearly every subsequent popular portrayal of Wyatt Earp. John Ford's classic 1946 film, "My Darling Clementine," drew on Lake's biography, embracing its heroic tone and romanticized narrative. The beloved 1950s television series, "The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp," starring Hugh O'Brian, brought Lake's version to millions of American households each week, solidifying Earp's legacy. Even films like "Tombstone" (1993) and "Wyatt Earp" (1994), which sought greater historical accuracy, remained within the mythic framework established by Lake. While they confronted the darker aspects of Earp's character, the essential image of Earp as the stoic protagonist in a grand frontier narrative endures, inherited directly from "Frontier Marshal". The question arises: why has this crafted version of Wyatt Earp proved so influential? The answer lies in the archetype that Lake skillfully fashioned. The Wyatt Earp of "Frontier Marshal" symbolizes a fantasy of perfect American masculinity. He is level-headed and courageous, embodying decisive action over empty words. As an individualist, he upholds a personal code of honor, ensuring his actions benefit the community. He stands as a beacon of justice in a lawless land, the taming force of the wilderness, and a figure capable of restoring order through righteous action when established institutions falter. He embodies everything generations of Americans, from the Depression-era readers of 1931 to today's moviegoers, aspire their heroes to be. Stuart Lake recognized this deep cultural yearning. He understood that the real Wyatt Earp—a flawed, complex man who was a gambler, a pimp, a fugitive, and a vigilante, alongside his role as a lawman—was not the hero America sought. So, Lake created one. In doing so, he ensured that his version of "truth" would resonate powerfully and lastingly, allowing his Wyatt Earp to eternally inspire within the fabric of the American imagination.
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Article by Michael D. King Before the dust settled on the legendary streets of Dodge City—long before Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday became icons—a visionary entrepreneur was laying the foundations of the "Queen of the Cowtowns." George M. Hoover, a man of remarkable foresight and civic devotion, emerged as the principal architect of Dodge City's enduring legacy. Born in Canada in 1847, Hoover arrived near Fort Dodge in 1872 with a keen eye for opportunity. He established the town's first business: a sod and plank saloon for soldiers and buffalo hunters. This humble beginning marked the genesis of Dodge City. However, Hoover's business acumen extended far beyond providing libations and quickly made him a cornerstone of the burgeoning community's commercial and civic life. His entrepreneurial spirit was matched only by his commitment to public service. As Dodge City's second mayor—the first to be elected—Hoover held the office for four inspiring terms. His leadership extended beyond city limits, representing Ford County in the Kansas State Legislature and tirelessly advocating for his adopted home. As Dodge City boomed, so did Hoover's influence. He played a crucial role in establishing law and order, famously hiring a young Wyatt Earp to help tame the wild frontier town. Recognizing the need for a stable financial institution, he founded the State Bank of Dodge City, affirming his faith in the town's long-term prosperity.
Perhaps Hoover's most lasting legacy was his immense generosity. Upon his death in 1914, he bequeathed a significant portion of his fortune to the city he helped build. This incredible act of philanthropy led to the construction of the iconic Hoover Pavilion in Wright Park, symbolizing his civic pride. His endowment also provided essential funding for the city's parks, the municipal airport, and local churches, ensuring his impact would resonate for generations. While tales of gunslingers and cattle drives often dominate the narrative of the Old West, George M. Hoover's story offers a different, yet equally compelling, perspective. It is a tale of a shrewd businessman, a dedicated public servant, and a philanthropist whose vision and generosity shaped the very character of Dodge City. The next time you stroll through Wright Park or admire the historic architecture of the city, remember the man who laid the groundwork for it all—George M. Hoover, the true architect of Dodge City. by Michael King The pre-dawn chill bit through young Billy Henderson's thin cotton shirt as he huddled near the sputtering campfire, nursing a tin cup of gritty coffee. Around him, the silhouettes of seasoned cowboys began to stir—men whose faces were maps of sun, wind, and trail dust. He was the greenhorn on this drive, fresh from a hardscrabble farm in East Texas, drawn by tales of adventure and decent wages—$30 a month, a fortune to him. Their trail boss, a weathered man named Jedediah Stone, known as "Cap" Stone to the crew, stood by the remuda, his voice a low rumble as he gave orders to the horse wrangler. Cap Stone was a legend; they said he could read the land, the cattle, and the weather like an open book. Billy had seen that already. He'd witnessed Cap's quiet authority settle disputes and his keen eyes spot trouble before it arrived. The herd, two thousand head of rangy Texas Longhorns, was a sea of horns and hides in the gray light, their occasional lowing a mournful song. These tough creatures, descendants of Spanish stock, were built for the harshness of the plains, with horns sometimes spanning eight feet. The day began, as all days on the Western Trail did, with the taste of dust and the rhythmic movement of the herd. They would cover twelve to fifteen miles by dusk, the Longhorns grazing as they moved. Billy rode flank, his muscles aching from long hours in the saddle and his hands raw from the reins. Breakfast had been bacon and beans, the same as supper the night before and the same as it would be tonight. The sun climbed, baking the plains of Indian Territory. Dust, kicked up by thousands of hooves, coated everything, stinging Billy's eyes and clogging his throat. He pulled his bandana higher over his nose, a trick learned from a Mexican drover named Miguel, whose quiet competence Billy admired. The crew was a mix of grizzled ex-Confederates, a couple of freedmen whose laughter was infectious, and Miguel, who rarely spoke but whose skill with a lariat was poetry in motion Dangers were constant companions. One sweltering afternoon, a thunderstorm rolled in from the horizon, lightning splitting the sky. The herd grew restless. Cap Stone's orders cut through the rising wind: "Hold 'em steady, boys! Keep 'em pointed north!" Then, a deafening crack of thunder sent the world into chaos—a stampede. Billy's heart leaped into his throat as the cattle surged, a terrifying wave of panicked flesh. He spurred his horse, riding alongside the torrent, shouting and waving his hat, trying to turn the leaders just as Cap had instructed. Dust and rain blinded him. Horses screamed, and men yelled. It felt like an eternity before they managed to get the herd milling and slowly brought them under control. Two steers were lost, their necks broken in the melee. River crossings presented another trial. They reached the South Canadian River, swollen from recent rains. Cap Stone scouted for an hour, his face grim. "Current's strong," he announced. "We'll take 'em across in smaller bunches." Billy watched his heart in his mouth, as the point riders urged the lead cattle into the churning water. Some swam strongly; others floundered, their eyes wide with fear. One young steer was caught by the current and swept downstream despite Miguel's desperate attempt to rope it. Through the Cheyenne-Arapaho Reservation, they encountered a band of warriors. Tensions ran high. The warriors, their faces stoic, gestured toward the cattle. Their own government rations were meager, Cap Stone had explained earlier. He rode forward, unarmed, and after a long parley, a deal was struck: five head of beef for safe passage and grazing rights. Billy let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The long months on the trail forged a unique, mobile society among the drovers. Bound by shared hardship, constant vigilance, and mutual dependence, men from disparate backgrounds formed a temporary community where the immediate demands of the herd and the environment often superseded conventional social hierarchies. The authority of the trail boss was clear, yet survival and success hinged on collective effort and a roughhewn camaraderie.
Finally, after nearly three months, a cry went up from the point rider: "Dodge City!" Billy strained his eyes. There it was—a smudge on the horizon, then buildings, and the glint of railway tracks—the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe. As they neared, the sounds of civilization washed over them: the distant whistle of a train, the lowing of countless cattle in the massive stockyards, and a faint cacophony that Billy would soon learn was the sound of saloons in full swing. Driving their weary herd to the pens, the cowboys felt a surge of exhilaration. The trail was done. Dodge City was everything they'd heard: raw, boisterous, and brimming with life. Clutching his wages, Billy followed the older hands to Front Street. First, he had a bath—his first real one in months—then a shave and new clothes. He bought a sturdy Stetson hat and a pair of tooled boots, feeling like a new man. The town was a whirlwind of saloons; the atmosphere was electric with excitement and possibility. Article By Michael D. King The story of the Soule Canal unfolds like an epic tale—one marked by towering dreams and heart-wrenching disillusionment. Set against the backdrop of the Gilded Age, this ambitious project, spearheaded by the relentless drive and immense wealth of Asa T. Soule, aimed to transform the sprawling, semi-arid plains of western Kansas into a verdant agricultural paradise. The canal's construction showcased the remarkable labor and ingenuity of the nineteenth century, a time when society was fueled by the belief that technology could tame nature's wildest forces. However, the journey wasn't smooth. The canal quickly faced a multitude of challenges that threatened to derail its dreams. The Arkansas River, meant to be its lifeblood, proved utterly unpredictable, leaving the canal often parched and lifeless. Seepage through the land's porous soil only added to the woes, while the engineering knowledge and materials available at the time fell woefully short. Nature's unforgiving cycles of floods and drought bared their teeth, washing away hopes or baking them under an unrelenting sun. To complicate matters, upstream diversions in Colorado siphoned off vital water resources, further choking the ambitious plan. In just a few short years, the dream of irrigation dwindled, and the once-noble canal was reduced to a derelict ditch that became known as "Soule's Folly." Yet, the legacy of the Soule Canal is far from a simple tale of failure. It stands as a foundational chapter in the story of Western irrigation and played a crucial role in shaping regional settlement patterns. The remnants of the canal—both physical and historical—continue to resonate across the landscape, weaving a complex narrative of human ambition set against nature's formidable power. More than just a failed irrigation project, the Soule Canal serves as a vital case study with profound historical significance. It embodies the spirit of Gilded Age expansionism, where the thirst for growth and industrial solutions often overshadowed the environmental impact and long-term effects of such grand endeavors. The canal's collapse starkly highlights the rift between ambitious technological dreams and the harsh realities of the natural world, especially when faced with the intricate challenges of the High Plains, including its unpredictable hydrology and geology. Moreover, the tale of the Soule Canal marks an early and crucial episode in the ongoing saga of water management in the American West. Its downfall, driven largely by the upstream depletion of the Arkansas River—a reflection of increasing demand—throws a glaring spotlight on the conflicts that arise when multiple stakeholders compete for limited water resources in a parched land. This struggle laid the groundwork for a century-long legal battle between Kansas and Colorado, born in the very era of the canal's creation, showcasing the clash of differing doctrines of water law. The precedents established during this tumultuous time still echo today, influencing ongoing disputes over water allocation across the West. Ultimately, the dry, earthen remnants of the Soule Canal wind their way through the Kansas prairie—a poignant monument to a moment in history woven with extraordinary dreams and remarkable miscalculations. Its story stands as a captivating reminder of the contentious dance between human ambition, engineering feats, financial risks, and the unwavering truths of the natural world that shaped the development of the American West. The land near the Santa Fe Trail, where traces of the canal remain, bears witness, holding onto the valuable lessons of past endeavors—both triumphant and flawed—for future generations who seek to navigate the intricate management of essential resources in arid terrains. Wyatt Earp's epic journey through the untamed American West—traversing the farmlands of Illinois and Iowa to the booming silver camps of Arizona and the glittering gold fields of Alaska—is nothing short of a thrilling reflection of the nation's restless expansion and tumultuous transformation. He stands tall in the annals of American folklore as the ultimate frontier lawman and the legendary hero of the O.K. Corral. Yet, peeling back the layers of legend reveals a man far more complex and contradictory than the myth suggests. What unfolds is a portrait brimming with inherent tension. Earp was a celebrated peace officer, hailed for his bravery and tactical prowess amid the chaos of Kansas's cow towns. Still, he bore a shadowy past filled with brushes with lawlessness. Accusations of theft traced his steps, and his documented entanglements in the vice trade showcased a willingness to cross the line into violence—a forceful figure often operating beyond the constraints of the law. Those closest to him described a man of quiet dignity and unassuming presence, yet when provoked, he could unleash a storm of decisive and ruthless action, especially when the safety of his brothers or close friends like Doc Holliday was at stake. Desperate for authority and the aspirations of civic leadership, Earp spent much of his life skirting the edges of respectability as a gambler, saloon keeper, and prospector. Ultimately, he became a fugitive from the legal system he sometimes embodied. To box him into a clear-cut judgment—hero or villain, principled lawman or opportunistic rogue—misses the complexity of his character. Earp was anything but static; he was a chameleon of sorts, with his actions shaped by his surroundings' fluctuating pressures and norms. His life was a whirlwind of transformation—from the grief-stricken young man mourning Urilla to the shrewd officer grappling with the tumult of Wichita and Dodge City, through to the embroiled political player in Tombstone, and finally, the vengeful brother leading the infamous Vendetta Ride. He was the restless seeker of fortune in boisterous boomtowns and an aging man fiercely intent on crafting his legacy. This remarkable adaptability—the ability to navigate unpredictable landscapes, from brothels to marshall's offices, and from thrilling gunfights to mining camps—may be his most defining trait, reflecting the fluid and morally ambiguous essence of the frontier itself. Wyatt Earp's story transcends his infamous reputation as a gunfighter. He symbolizes a turning point in the West—the explosive clash between individualism and the rise of structured law, the intricate dance of personal ambition versus public duty, and the enduring American fascination with those who impose their will on a chaotic world. The public's ongoing romanticization of Earp often favors thrilling myth over a more nuanced reality, underscoring our cultural yearning for clear heroes and archetypal narratives.
The true Wyatt Earp remains partially shrouded by time and the crafted legacy surrounding him, yet the quest to uncover the man behind the myth continues to offer rich insights—not just into this pivotal figure but also into the intricate tapestry of the American West and the very nature of how history is shaped, remembered and retold. In the end, he stands as an enduring American enigma, a larger-than-life figure born from the rugged landscape of a nation in flux.
Born on October 30, 1847, in New Bedford, Massachusetts, Charles E. Bassett was the fourth of six children born to Benjamin and Julia (Norton) Bassett. His parents' separation during his adolescence markedly influenced his formative years, resulting in his relocation to live with his father in Philadelphia. In February 1865, toward the conclusion of the Civil War, he enlisted in the Union Army in Frankford, Pennsylvania, serving as a private in Company I of the 213th Pennsylvania Infantry, a volunteer regiment. He received a $100 enlistment bounty for his one-year commitment; however, his military tenure was truncated after approximately nine months, as he was mustered out in Washington, D.C., on November 18, 1865—likely a consequence of troop reductions following General Lee's capitulation. After his military service, Bassett undertook a westward migration from late 1865 to early 1873, engaging in various frontier professions, including mining, bartending, and buffalo hunting. These roles not only broadened his skill set but also exposed him to diverse individuals and challenges inherent in the burgeoning West. He was probably in the vicinity of what would eventually become Dodge City when he received news of his father's death in Philadelphia on January 2, 1872. This eclectic work background underscores his resourcefulness—an essential trait for survival and success on the frontier. His bartending experience, in particular, afforded him critical insights into the emerging social dynamics of frontier settlements and facilitated the development of significant personal and professional connections. In late 1872, Bassett partnered with Alfred J. Peacock to establish the original Long Branch Saloon in Dodge City. This establishment rapidly evolved into a focal point within the town, which was notorious for its saloons, gambling, and frequent violence. The Long Branch became a vital social hub, attracting a varied clientele that contributed to the dynamic and often tumultuous atmosphere of Dodge City. Ultimately, Bassett and Peacock sold the saloon, which underwent various ownership changes before being managed by Luke Short. This entrepreneurial initiative solidified Bassett's role within the early social and economic infrastructure of Dodge City, providing him with both financial stability and an expansive network of contacts. The formal establishment of law enforcement in Ford County, Kansas, dates back to June 5, 1873, when Charles Bassett was elected the inaugural sheriff. His jurisdiction was centered in Dodge City, the county seat. Before this, the community relied on a Vigilance Committee, which increasingly attracted unsavory characters, underscoring the necessity for a structured and dependable law enforcement agency. During his first term, Bassett prominently appointed figures such as Wyatt Earp and William "Bat" Masterson to his deputy positions. He was re-elected twice, continuing in office until 1878. One significant event during his tenure involved the pursuit of the notorious outlaw Sam Bass and his gang in September 1877, following their heist of a Union Pacific train in Nebraska. Although Bassett's posse—comprising Masterson and John Joshua Webb—did not apprehend the outlaws, this incident illuminated his commitment to law enforcement beyond Ford County's borders. His re-elections indicated the community's trust in his capacity to maintain order during an era characterized by rapid expansion and potential lawlessness. Furthermore, his selection of deputies, who subsequently rose to prominence in law enforcement, illustrates his astute judgment regarding effective policing in the volatile frontier milieu. Due to Kansas legislation restricting sheriffs to two consecutive terms, Bat Masterson was elected as the new Sheriff of Ford County in November 1877, succeeding Bassett. Acknowledging Bassett's extensive experience, Masterson appointed him as undersheriff. Concurrently, Bassett served as the assistant city marshal under Bat Masterson's brother, Edward J. Masterson, who held the position of City Marshal in Dodge City. The Dodge City Times acknowledged Bassett's comprehensive training and qualifications for ensuring public order in the city. In February 1878, Bassett played a pivotal role in apprehending several members of a train robbery gang in Dodge City, collaborating closely with Sheriff Bat Masterson and Marshal Ed Masterson. However, on April 9, 1878, tragedy struck with the assassination of City Marshal Ed Masterson. In the aftermath, the Dodge City Council appointed Charles Bassett as the new City Marshal on May 12, 1878, granting him a salary of $100 per month. Throughout his tenure as marshal, both Wyatt Earp and James Earp served as his deputies. Notably, that same year, Bassett participated in the pursuit and arrest of James "Spike" Kenedy, implicated in the murder of Dora Hand, known in the theatrical world as Fannie Keenan. This era underscores Charles Bassett's unwavering commitment to law enforcement in Dodge City. Through his multifaceted roles—as sheriff, undersheriff, and city marshal—he effectively reinforced stability and order in a rapidly transforming frontier community.
However, a coroner's inquest convened on April 7, 1879, concluded that Loving had acted in self-defense, resulting in his release without charges. This incident underscores the endemic violence characterizing frontier towns like Dodge City. It illustrates the complexities of law enforcement in navigating such dangerous situations while adhering to the legal standards of the time. In November 1879, Bassett resigned as Marshal of Dodge City and relocated to New Mexico, where he served as a guard for the Adams Express Company. The following year, he engaged in gold mining in Montana and traveled through Colorado and Texas while maintaining connections with Dodge City. Ultimately, he settled in Kansas City, where he owned and managed several saloons. His ties to Dodge City resurfaced in 1883 during the "Dodge City War," a conflict involving municipal authorities and Luke Short. Facing opposition from local governance, Short sought support from allies, prompting Bassett, alongside other notable figures such as Wyatt Earp and Bat Masterson, to return to Dodge City. This convergence of prominent ex-lawmen and gunfighters led to the establishment of the Dodge City Peace Commission in June 1883, which included members like W.H. Harris, W.F. Petillon, Frank McLain, and Neil Brown. A significant photograph captured this assembly on June 10, 1883. The Commission was instrumental in mediating the conflict, ultimately averting any violence during the "Dodge City War." Bassett returned to Kansas City after this involvement to open the Senate Saloon, earning him the moniker "Senator." However, this venture was not profitable, and he later found employment as a bartender in another establishment. His return to Dodge City during this tumultuous period and participation in the Peace Commission highlight Bassett's enduring influence and reputation, even post-retirement from formal law enforcement. ![]() DODGE CITY PEACE COMMISSION: In 1883, former Dodge City lawmen, Wyatt Earp, Bat Masterson and Charlie Bassett, returned to town one last time. But they weren’t here to enforce the law. Instead they posed a threat to law and order. They came to Dodge City as a show of force to support a friend in what became known as the “Saloon War.” Back Row Left - Right W.H. Harris Luke Short Bat Masterson Front Row Left - Right Charlie Bassett Wyatt Earp Frank McLain Neal Brown In his later years, Bassett was afflicted with inflammatory rheumatism, prompting him to seek treatment in Hot Springs, Arkansas. He passed away on January 5, 1896, at the age of 48, with his death attributed to Bright's disease, an outdated term for nephritis, which denotes renal inflammation resulting from various etiological factors, including toxins, infections, or autoimmune disorders. Bassett was interred in Hollywood Cemetery in Hot Springs. Charles Bassett's life story is a fascinating lens through which we can understand the dramatic evolution of law and order in Dodge City during its frontier days. His remarkable journey—from daring early ventures to his steadfast role as a lawman—highlights his commitment to bringing stability to a tumultuous environment. Bassett was crucial in pivotal events, including the notorious Dodge City War. Yet, his name often doesn't resonate as loudly as those of more famous figures of his time. Nevertheless, his tireless pursuit of peace amid chaos firmly establishes him as a key player in the saga of the American West. His legacy is a powerful reminder of the countless brave souls who built the frontier communities, bravely tackling immense challenges and dangers.
Article by Michael King Article By Michael R. Grauer “You get up every morning and you think about what you need to do that’s best for your cows. That’s your responsibility. You look after cattle. You don’t think twice about it.” Joe Magee, Texas Panhandle cowboy. Cowboys work[ed] regardless of weather. On the Great Plains a blue norther (or Texas norther), refers to an Arctic cold front that develops suddenly on the northern horizon as dark, wet clouds appear bluer than the sky above the cloud mass. On January 9, 1887, a blizzard covered parts of the Great Plains in more than 16 inches of snow and temperatures dropped to around 50 below. Cattle losses numbered as high as 75 percent and changed open-range cattle ranching forever. This series of events became known as The Big Die-Up. Montana artist Charles M. Russell captured the conditions of this tragedy with his famous small watercolor, Waiting for a Chinook (later given the title The Last of Five Thousand). The Big Die-Up is fairly well known in terms of the costs to live stock and open range ranching. What is less well known are the human costs to those who did (and do) the cow and horse work during harsh winters. Cowboys froze to death trying to save cattle. Another giant of Western art, Frederic Remington, sculpted The Norther, his first bronze to be cast using lost wax in 1900. The Norther was a marketplace flop, although it is now considered one of Remington’s finest works as he captured the conditions cowboys endure[d] to look after cattle. Depicting a mounted Great Plains cowboy and his cow pony with their backs hunched over to the bitter wind and snow; Remington even used a special patina to evoke frost on the horse and the cow hand. ![]() Source: Photo Reference: "The Monster Blizzard That Turned Kansas Into a Frozen Wasteland: “Hell without Heat.” New Perspectives on the West, Episode 7. PBS, Public Broadcasting Service, Web. 19 Jan. 2019. In a blizzard painted by Frank Feller, circa 1900, the Great Die-Up resulted in thousands of dead cattle clogging rivers, piling up against fences, and filling coulees. The smell of decay lingered over the region for months. Just how did cowboys do their work during winter weather conditions? First of all, most ranch crews were drastically reduced during the winter months. Those who were laid off often rode the grub line; looking for a meal riding from ranch to ranch until spring broke. A skeleton crew remained on ranches, with one or two hands assigned to line camps strategically place to patrol a part of a larger ranch. Their duties included riding and fixing fence, doctoring cattle and pulling them out of bogs, branding unbranded cimarrons, and generally searching for things that always needed doing on a cattle ranch.
How did they do these jobs of work in bitter cold and blizzard conditions? Many wore heavy buffalo (bison) hide coats as they rarely dismounted and did not need the freedom of movement required during other times of the year. Some wore galoshes or overshoes on their feet with extra wool socks instead of cowboy boots. Fur-lined gloves were prized along with hair-hide mittens and some hands even wore buffalo (bison) hide hats. Northern plains buckaroos often preferred lined wool caps with ear flaps while on the southern plains a cowboy’s felt hat brim was turned down over his ears to become flaps and the whole shebang was tied on with a cowboy’s neckerchief (wild rag). So, the next time you are warm and toasty in your house when its below zero outside, remember that somewhere-from Mexico to Canada--a cowboy is tending cattle and horses from the back of a horse to ensure a reliable supply of food for American and world-wide tables. Simply say, “much obliged.” Michael R. Grauer President, Western Cattle Trail Association Article By Michael King By the year 1872, Fort Dodge, originally established in 1865 as a modest military outpost, had dramatically transformed into an active trading post and vital gathering hub for the surrounding community. Nestled along the Santa Fe Trail, it served as a vital stopover for intrepid traders and hardy buffalo hunters, significantly contributing to the economic vitality of the region. At this time, Fort Dodge was ensconced within a sprawling military reservation, its western boundary extending a full five miles from the fort itself, a distance that would soon shape the course of another development. The post store, commonly dubbed the Sutler's store, was a lively hub of activity, frequented by soldiers and traders alike seeking a variety of supplies, including alcoholic beverages that flowed freely. However, the specter of excessive drinking loomed large, prompting Colonel Richard Dodge, the fort's commandant, to take decisive action. In an effort to mitigate the rampant alcohol consumption, he restricted sales to officers only, effectively putting an end to the availability of liquor at the fort. The origins of Dodge City can be traced back to May 28, 1872, when Robert Wright, the proprietor of the trading post at Fort Dodge, received a letter to cease all whiskey sales within the military reservation. In an audacious move prompted by this mandate from Major Irving Dodge, the post commander, businessman George Hoover set off for Kansas City. He carefully loaded his wagon with barrels of whiskey, determined to transport them as close to the fort as regulations would allow, halting just shy of the five-mile boundary. ![]() On May 28, 1872, the letter imaged here was sent from the Post Adjunct at Fort Dodge to Robert Wright. Joel Vinson, the director of the Kansas Heritage Center, found this letter in old microfilm records. The letter told Wright that he could no longer sell alcohol in his store, which set off a chain of events that eventually led to the founding of Dodge City. Interestingly, just a couple of weeks later, on June 19, 1872, Wright received another letter saying he could reopen his bar. This change came only 13 days after two men, Hoover and McConnell, had started serving drinks at their bar near a sod house owned by Sitler, which was located about five miles west of Fort Dodge. To ensure he adhered to this distance, Hoover ingeniously tied a rag to a wagon wheel and meticulously counted the number of rotations, multiplying that figure by the wheel's diameter to arrive at an exact measurement. On June 17, 1872, accompanied by his business partner Jack McConnell, Hoover established a rustic bar, constructed from sod and wooden planks, just beyond the five-mile limit. This inviting establishment was strategically positioned south of the anticipated A.T. & S.F. railroad tracks, providing a much-needed refuge for soldiers, buffalo hunters, and traders who found themselves barred from Fort Dodge’s saloon.
The opening of Hoover's bar sparked the emergence of additional enterprises, igniting a wave of commercial activity in the area. Hoover, along with his fellow pioneers, initially christened the burgeoning town "Buffalo City," a name that reflected the region's rich hunting grounds. In their quest to establish a U.S. Post Office, the founders faced a significant challenge: the name they initially favored, Buffalo City, was already used by another location within the United States. They ultimately chose the name Dodge City to navigate this obstacle and create a distinctive identity. This new name not only encapsulated the essence of the community but also resonated with the adventurous spirit of the American frontier. Dodge City quickly became a symbol of the Wild West, embodying the rugged individualism and vibrant energy that characterized this burgeoning era of American history. As a result, the name Dodge City would go on to evoke images of cowboys, saloons, and the untamed landscape that defined the westward expansion. ![]() (Director Joel Vinson recovered the photo from the Kansas Heritage Center in Dodge City. The 1879 map presented by Nic Mayrath on February 2, 1907, shows the original cattle pens built by the Santa Fe Railroad in 1876. According to the layout, the cattle may have crossed the Arkansas River at any point from the north two blocks west of the toll bridge to avoid the south side saloons and traveled northwest, one-half mile crossing the Santa Fe Railroad tracks to enter the loading pens area from the east. The land directly across the tracks from the cattle pens may have been used as a staging area.) Dodge City, strategically nestled in the prairie's heart, marked the cattle drive's westernmost point. It offered vast grasslands spanning thousands of acres for cattle to fatten on while they awaited their trains to the East and recuperated from the arduous drive. This pivotal position was the key to the city's role in the cattle trade and American frontier history. Fredric R. Young, in his book "Dodge City: Up through the Century," explained in 1972 an advertisement that appeared in the Dodge City Times as a means to draw the cattle trade to Dodge City: The hotels and restaurants are making accommodations for a large influx of people with a view to the adage“live and let live.” The agents of the AT&SF road at this point are gentlemen of integrity. The stockyards are commodious and capable of accommodating a large number of cattle. A general effort is being made to make Dodge City an attractive point for the Texas cattle dealers, and our united citizens send forth their greetings to our Texas neighbors, inviting their presence to our community. The adage“live and let live” was a necessary business philosophy for trade with the Texans. Dodge City merchants knew that the newly arrived cowboys and cattlemen expected the company of women, plenty of whiskey, and a chance to lay a few bets on the faro and monte tables. “Shooting up the town just for fun” was also a Texas Cowboy’s privilege if he was man enough to try. The article "Texas Cattle," provided by Keith Wondra, curator of the Boot Hill Museum, presents a valuable firsthand account of the report's original publication, which is interpreted by Fredric Young. It was featured in the Dodge City Times shortly before the commencement of the inaugural cattle season in Dodge City. A transcription of the article follows below. TEXAS CATTLE; Article Transcript Below Through our exchanges, and through private sources, we are daily receiving information of the almost superhuman exertions that are being made through the "ring" operators of the K. P. and U. P. railroads, to induce the drives of the incoming season to pass northward over the grazing territory of tho Canadian and Arkansas. They have sent into Texas men who are expected to inform the drovers that their knowledge of the geography of this northern country in prefect, and that they are capable of advising the drovers where to hold their herds. Tho fallacy of this scheme will become amazingly developed should any Texas cattle man be duped into following their advice. Some of the specimens sent out upon this cattle! mission are wholly ignorant of the part of the country they go to represent. They are working for pay, and any parties that are duped by them will find their mistake in time. The citizens of Dodge City have gene to work in a legitimate and honest way. They have adopted wholesome measures whereby the cattle men can be treated upon general principles of equity and reciprocity.
The business men have reduced the prices of their liquors, cigars, tobacco, etc., for the especial trade of the cattle men. Reductions have also been made in prices generally. Accommodations for a large influx of people are being made by the hotels and restaurants, and with a view to the adage of “live and let live.” Trustworthy men; who are familiar with all of the ranges from the Canadian to the North Platte, will be in readiness to assist in showing the best pasturage where water and other accommodations can be found. Everything that can be made conducive to the interests and general welfare of the cattle men will be duly attended to. Our citizens do not intend that anything shall be omitted. They do not believe in sending out runners and cappers to impose upon tho credulity of honest men. The agents of the A. T. & S. F. load at this point are gentlemen of integrity and cattle men will always find them alive to the interests of shippers. The stock yards are commodious and capable of accommodating a large number of cattle. These pens afford accommodations for feeding, watering, branding, assorting, shipping, etc., with stabling for horses. A general effort is being made to make Dodge City an attractive point for the Texas cattle dealers, and our united citizens send forth their greeting to our Texas neighbors inviting their presence to our community, tendering of our whole people.
On The Western Trail
In March 1874, a momentous event unfolded in the annals of the cattle trail industry. John T. Lytle, a dauntless cattleman and drover, embarked on a daring journey with a colossal herd of 3,500 Texas cattle. Their destination was the Red Cloud Agency, now known as Fort Robinson, in Nebraska. This monumental expedition, spanning four states, blazed a trail and left an enduring mark on the vibrant history of American cattle droving, a testament to Lytle's indomitable spirit.
The newly established Western Trail, a name that would soon resonate across the cattle industry, swiftly surpassed the renowned Chisholm Trail system, cementing its place in history as a pivotal conduit for the cattle industry. Stretching across vast distances and enduring for an extended period, the Western Trail revolutionized the transportation of an unprecedented number of cattle, leaving an indelible mark on the industry. Its operational span from 1874 to 1884 played a crucial role in the industry's growth and evolution, significantly reshaping the landscape of cattle transportation. The Western Cattle Trail system spanned thousands of miles and facilitated the movement of an astonishing six million cattle. This remarkable feat played a pivotal role in shaping the development of the American West. Along the trail, specific locations became iconic symbols of the cattle drives, such as Doan's Crossing, a vital resting point where cattle were watered and grazed; Dodge City, a bustling center of cattle trade and commerce; Ogallala, a significant starting point and supply center for the trail; Belle Fourche, a crucial hub for cattle markets and transactions; Miles City, a central location for the shipment of cattle to various destinations; and Fort MacLeod, an essential outpost in Canada that connected the trail to northern territories. These landmarks stand as testaments to the enduring legacy and impact of the Western Cattle Trail on the development and expansion of the Western frontier. Gary Kraisinger, a knowledgeable historian of the Western Cattle Trail, recently shared the captivating history of Dugan's Roadhouse, a pivotal stop along the Western Trail near Dodge City. This historical site facilitated trade and travel in the American West. Dugan's Roadhouse was the first stopover for travelers south of Dodge City and a significant freight center on the Atchinson, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railway. This made it a bustling hub for freight wagons destined for Fort Supply and other points south as they traversed the pathway by Dugan's Road House from Dodge City. In the 1870s, Mulberry Creek flowed gently through the landscape, adding a soft soundtrack to the surrounding scenery. Positioned about a mile and a half southeast of where we stand today, Dugan's Road House and Ranche served as a mere rest stop and a vital focal point along the bustling Fort Dodge—Fort Supply military road.
The year was 1874, and James Dugan and his wife were the proprietors of a quaint store housed in a sod building with two modest rooms and floors made of dirt. At first, their clientele consisted of soldiers and freighters traveling along the military road. Still, soon, they found themselves serving the cowboys from Texas as they journeyed along the Western Cattle Trail. The flexibility and resourcefulness exhibited by Dugan's Road House during this time were truly remarkable.
Josephine, the daughter of James Dugan, entered into matrimony with Hamilton B. Bell, a highly regarded figure in Dodge City, in the same year. Later, in 1878, Ham Bell ingeniously repurposed lumber from his Dodge Varieties Can-Can dance hall to establish a trading post next to his father-in-law's Roadhouse.
The Roadhouse and trading post were strategically positioned at the junction of two major routes. One route led northeast to Fort Dodge, while the other went north to Dodge City. This prime location made it a bustling hub for business, attracting trail drivers and travelers from various routes in Texas and the Chisholm Trail. Several Texas feeder trails, including the Jones de Plummer, the Adobe Walls/Palo Duro-Dodge City Trail, the Tascosa and Fort Bascom Trail, and the Tuttle Trail, all interconnected near or passed through Dugan's Road House on Mulberry Creek.
Notably, just north of the roadhouse location, an earlier branch of the Santa Fe Trail ran east-west toward Santa Fe, New Mexico. This area, steeped in history, also holds significant importance, as it is where Coronado passed in 1541 on his journey to Quivira. The sheer historical weight of this area is genuinely awe-inspiring. ![]()
Gain valuable insights into the unparalleled history of the Western Cattle Trail from Michael Grauer, a renowned expert in cowboy culture and the curator of Cowboy Collections and Western Art at the McCasland Chair. His recount of the narrative of this remarkable chapter in American history will provide you with a comprehensive understanding of the Western Trail. In this Brown Bag presentation, you will delve into the fascinating history of The Western Trail, a critical cattle route operational from 1874 to 1897. This historical phenomenon facilitated the transportation of an estimated six to eight million cattle across a vast network of roads, pivotal in establishing renowned ranches in the northern Great Plains region. The trail connected crucial locations such as Doan’s Crossing, Dodge City, Ogallala, and Fort MacLeod, spanning nine states, northern Mexico, and western Canada. Surpassing the Chisholm Trail in duration, cattle volume, and distance covered, the Western Trail is a testament to the enduring significance of American cowboy culture and Western history, becoming “The Greatest Cattle Trail of All! Click here to join us at the 150th Anniversary Conference.
Article by Michael King
Michael Grauer, the McCaslin Chair of Cowboy Culture and curator at the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum, is scheduled to present at the 150th-anniversary Western Cattle conference at Boot Hill Museum in Dodge City, Kansas, on November 1st and 2nd, 2024.
During the conference, Michael will deliver two presentations. His first presentation will begin with an engaging exploration of the vibrant history and cultural significance of the King Ranch, focusing on its pivotal role in the Western Cattle Trail. One aspect of "Trailing Cattle from the King Ranch in South Texas" will feature a recording of Bob Kennan, a renowned King Ranch resident historian.
Michael will examine the utmost importance of Bob's dedicated career, which has been crucial in unveiling the King Ranch's rich history. Michael adds, "Bob Kennan has played a vital role in uncovering the rich tapestry of the ranch's past. His work dates back to the ranch's establishment in 1853 when Captain Richard King purchased a creek-fed oasis in the Wild Horse Desert of South Texas."
Michael's second presentation will be on The Art of the Cattle Trail, a collection of Western Art. For those attending this presentation, it will be a unique and privileged opportunity to learn from his extensive research into this collection, which he has dedicated several years. His discussion will focus on this unique and extensive exploration, providing an exciting opportunity for the audience to delve into the depth of Western art.
One of his notable publications delves into the life and work of the Texas artist Frank Ray. Titled 'Rounded Up at Glory,' this biography is significant as Ray was the sole artist to witness the cattle drives in their raw, unromanticized form. As Michael puts it, 'Frank Ray's pioneering role in bringing realism to Western art is enlightening. Most depictions we see of these drives were nostalgic or romanticized by artists such as Frederick Remington and Charlie Russell, who were contemporaries of Mr. Ray. Initially, the phenomenon of moving cattle from one part of the US and northern Mexico to another was utterly unfamiliar to the general public in the United States and the world.’
During his presentation in Dodge City on November 2nd, Michael Grauer will describe an illustration that vividly captures the intense chaos of cattle stampeding down Front Street. In this illustration, he will humorously debunk the popular culture portrayal of moving cattle through downtown Dodge City. Michael will underscore that this false portrayal, despite its widespread acceptance, is far from the truth and has, unfortunately, shaped what most people think they know about the American West. However, Michael's rigorous research has successfully corrected these misconceptions, providing a more accurate understanding of the American West and the cattle trail phenomenon and enlightening the audience.
Those interested in attending the conference should note that the registration fee is $75.00 per person, and registration can be completed via the organization's website or mail. Active participation from attendees is not just encouraged; it's essential to ensure the success of this significant event. To learn more about how to register to attend this conference, go to www.westerncattletrailassoc.com/conference-info and reserve a seat at this two-day event on November 1st and 2nd.
Second Battle of Adobe Walls by Michael King
Under the terms of the Medicine Lodge Treaty of 1867, the federal government fixed the Arkansas River as the northern boundary of the Indian country for the tribes of the Southwestern plains. It guaranteed that white hunters should not cross that stream. But they did. In 1872, the mushroom town of Dodge City, Kansas, sprang into existence and became the outfitting point and center of activity of the hide hunters who, with their big Sharps buffalo guns, were constantly invading the Red Man's country.
The hides of the buffalo could be sold for $3 apiece. Since the buffalo were plentiful then, a man could kill as many as fifty per day. The buffalo hunters would take their hides with large team-pulled wagons to Dodge City, Kansas, the nearest railroad point at the time. Supplies also had to be purchased at Dodge City. Provisions and ammunition for hunters would be freighted back to them by the wagons that took their buffalo hides to market.
By the spring of 1874, the slaughter had been so great that the buffalo had been virtually wiped out near Dodge City. The future economy of Dodge City came into question as the hide trade became less profitable, for there were no buffalo to be found. Although no accurate sources are available, Colonel Richard Irving Dodge of Fort Dodge estimated the buffalo kill in Kansas to be close to 3.5 million over the 1872-1874 period. An estimated 850,000 buffalo hides were shipped from Dodge City in 1872-1874.
So A. C. Myers, who was in the Dodge general merchandise business, organized an expedition to establish a trading post farther south where the hunters could get their supplies and to which they would bring their buffalo hides, which Myers would freight back to the Kansas "hide capital." Forming a partnership with Fred Leonard and accompanied by a party of 20-odd frontiersmen, Myers set out for the forbidden Indian country.
Among the party members were Jim Hanrahan, an old buffalo hunter who was going along to open a saloon at the new trading post; Thomas O'Keefe, a blacksmith; and two young buffalo hunters destined for future fame—Billy Dixon and Bat Masterson. After a Journey of 160 miles, the expedition reached a spot on the south fork of the Canadian where stood the ruins of an old trading post, Walls, which had been known as Adobe, built by William Bent and Ceran St. Vrain sometime before 1840. A mile or so farther on, in a broad valley with a pretty stream called East Adobe Walls Creek, Myers and his companions unloaded their wagons and set about establishing the second Adobe Walls, which was to become even more famous than the first. Myers and Leonard built a picket house, 20 by 60 feet In size; Lianruhan put up a sod house. 25 by 60, and O'Keefe opened his blacksmith shop in a picket structure, 15 feet square. My-ers and Leonard also built a stockade corral by setting big cottonwood logs on end in the ground. A short time later, Rath and Wright, leading merchants of Dodge City, decided to establish a branch store at Adobe Walls and built a sod house, 16 by 20 feet, leaving James Langton In charge of the new business there. Willam Olds and his wife also came to Adobe Walls to open a restaurant.
For several years, the Indians had been watching with increasing alarm the wasteful slaughter of the buffalo by the white hunters. So when, in the spring of 1874, a Comanche medicine man named Isatal announced that he had a new medicine that would enable them to wipe out the white men who were exterminating the buffalo, he found the tribesmen ripe for such a crusade.
The first Indian leader to agree to help in this laudable enterprise was a chief of the Comanches, Quanah, the half-breed son of Cynthia Ann Parker, who, as a little girl, had been stolen from her home in Texas and had become the wife of the great Chief Peta Nocona. Then, the medicine man "carried the pipe" to the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Kiowas, and Kiowa Apaches, and they readily agreed to accompany their Comanche brethren.
So, a great war party of between 600 and 700 mounted warriors set out for the buffalo hunters camp, and on the night of June 26, they camped about five or six miles from Adobe Walls, began painting themselves and their horses, and preparing themselves for the charge against the hated white men. "Those men shall not fire a shot; we shall kill them all," was the promise of Isatai.
Before going to sleep, Dixon and Hanrahan prepared themselves for an early start in the morning for the buffalo hunting grounds to the northwest. When the repairs to the saloon's roof were completed, the sky was growing red in the east. So Hanrahan proposed to Dixon that instead of going back to bed, they get ready to start out as soon as it was light. Dixon agreed, and as he started to get his horse, he looked down the valley. There, through the dim light of the morning, he saw a sight that almost paralyzed him for a moment.
A dark mass of horsemen was moving swiftly up the valley, and the next moment, it had spread out like a fan, and a mighty war-whoop shattered the stillness. Isatai was coming with his host of wild tribesmen to make good his promise to wipe out the buffalo hunters at Adobe Walls. Throwing his rifle to his shoulder, Dixon fired one shot, then turned and sped toward the Hanrahan saloon as the wild charge of the Indians swept down upon him. But this hasty warning was enough to bring the occupants of the saloon, who were already awake and dressed, to the windows with their big buffalo guns in their hands.
"We were scarcely inside before the Indians surrounded all the buildings and shot out every window pane." Billy Dixon says. "For the first hour, the Indians were reckless and daring enough to ride up and strike the doors with the butts of their guns." Andrew Johnson recorded how the savages backed their horses up against the doors of the buildings and tried to push them in, showing a willingness to fight at close quarters almost unparalleled in Indian warfare.
But the steady fire of the buffalo hunters soon discouraged this, and after beating off several attacks, the white men had a chance to take stock of their losses. Strange to say, there were only three. The two Shadler boys, asleep in their wagon outside the stockade, had been killed and scalped. Their big Newfoundland dog had evidently put up a fight, for he was also killed and scalped - a piece of hide having been cut from his side. Billy Tyler, one of the defenders of the Leonard and Myers store, was killed early in the fighting, and except for some minor wounds, these were the only casualties. Time after time, the Indians charged, but as their ponies were knocked down by the heavy slugs of lead from the buffalo guns and more and more of their warriors were killed or wounded, it began to dawn upon them that Issatai had been a false prophet. So, the charges ceased. During one of these lulls, a young Comanche, gorgeously appareled in a war bonnet and scalp shirt and mounted on a fine pony, made a lone charge toward the buildings in the face of hot fire from the hunters. Ridding up close to one of the buildings, he leaped from his pony, thrust a six-shooter through a port hole, and emptied it. He then attempted to retreat but was shot down. This daring warrior who had hoped to make a name for himself by his lone charge was Pe-ah-rite, the son of Horseback, one of the leading chiefs of the Comanches.
By late afternoon on the first day, the Indians had given up hope of wiping out the defenders of Adobe Walls and began to withdraw. After an anxious night of watchfulness, the buffalo hunters discovered the next morning that only a few Indians were lingering around the place, and some long-distance shots soon drove them off. During the second day, hunters from some of the outlying camps made their way unmolested into Adobe Walls, and that night, one of them, Henry Lease, was sent to Dodge City for help. Mike King, the author of Buffalo Days, gives Billy Dixon's account of a scratch shot he made on the afternoon of the third day.
In the afternoon, a party of about fifteen Indians appeared on the side of the bluff, east of Adobe Walls Creek, and some of the boys suggested that I try my big "50" on them. The distance was close to three-fourths of a mile. Billy Dixon gives an account of how he made the shot. I took careful aim and pulled the trigger. We saw an Indian fall from his horse. The others dashed out of sight behind a clump of timber. A few moments later, two Indians sprinted on foot to where the dead Indian lay, seized his body, and scurried to cover. They had risked their lives, as we had frequently observed, to rescue a comrade who might be not only wounded but dead. I was admittedly an excellent marksman, yet this was what might be called a "scratch" shot. ![]()
The Comanche attack at Adobe Walls caught its resident buffalo hunters literally sleeping. Dixon had left the ammunition for his own rifle locked in the settlement store. So, borrowing a Sharps.50-90 buffalo gun like that above from a bartender, he aimed at a horseback warrior on a distant ridge, killing him on the third shot. (Rock Island Auction)
More hunters came in on the third day, and by the seventh day, fully a hundred men were gathered there. Among these latecomers, so many of the "survivors" of later years were numbered. But by this time, the danger from the Indians had passed. The Red Men had departed for a series of raids in Kansas and Texas, which soon brought the military into the field and resulted in their eventual defeat. But before the attack at Adobe Walls ended, there was one more tragedy, one which darkened the life of the brave woman defender, Mrs Olds. On the fifth day, her husband was coming down a ladder with a gun in his hand when it went off accidentally, and she rushed from an adjoining room in time to see his body roll from the ladder and crumple at her feet.
As the sun descended, casting a warm golden glow over the rugged landscape, the small town of Dodge City buzzed with anticipation. A cloud of dust on the horizon heralded the long-awaited return of the hunters, the brave men who had ventured out to find economic relief but ended in a battle confronting the Indians who tried to protect their way of living. The townspeople lined the dusty streets, young and old alike, their eager faces lit with excitement and anticipation. Banners and streamers adorned the buildings, fluttering in the gentle breeze, and the sound of joyful chatter filled the air. As the riders drew nearer, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. The returning hunters rode at the head of the procession, their faces weathered and stern but with a glint of pride in their eyes. Behind them trailed a line of packhorses laden with the spoils of their hard-won victory. The news of their return and the fight at Adobe Walls made each man a hero. The returning hunters became legends, recognized for their sacrifice to torch the spirit of bravery that will be passed on from generation to generation. The return of the great hunters gave each citizen of Dodge City a spark, setting a fire in hearts that had become tinder dry with economic disparity, which would soon turn to another economic boom, the Western Trail, and becoming a Cow Town.
Active participation from attendees is essential in ensuring the success of this significant event. Additionally, those who register early will be guaranteed a place and receive a special commemorative gift. To learn more about how to register to attend this conference, go to www.westerncattletrailassoc.com/conference-info and reserve a seat at this November 1st and 2nd two-day event.
Article by Michael D. King
In the rugged terrain of the American West, there existed a tribe known as the Cheyenne. They were proud and resilient people deeply connected to their ancestral homeland and had long lived in harmony with the land in their northern homes. However, encroaching settlements and the shifting tides of history forced them to confront a grim reality. A series of events known as the Cheyenne Exodus forever altered their lives.
In May 1877, the renowned Oglala Sioux war leader Crazy Horse surrendered his band at Fort Robinson, Nebraska. Accompanying him were at least two bands of northern Cheyenne, united under the leadership of chiefs Dull Knife and Little Wolf. Following their victory against Custer at the Little Bighorn, the bands separated due to the US Army's winter campaigns. Many endured harsh winter conditions and finally found relative safety, only to be greeted with this news of surrender, adding to their considerable hardships. Despite much suffering among the women, children, and elders in the spring, Crazy Horse took his bands to the fort. One officer on the scene remarked that it looked more like a victory parade than a surrender.
The Cheyenne were unexpectedly ordered to move to the southern Cheyenne reservation in Indian Territory (present-day Oklahoma). This news angered Little Wolf and Dull Knife, who had signed the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868, which permanently ceded lands in Montana and South Dakota, including the Black Hills, to the Sioux and Cheyenne. The Cheyennes were hesitant to leave their homes in the north. However, leading chiefs like Standing Elk, Dulknife, Wild Hog, and Little Wolf, who held significant influence within the tribe, eventually convinced them to move to the Cheyenne and Arapaho Agency under John D. Miles. Under the leadership of these chiefs, the Cheyenne people found themselves at a crossroads.
In the summer of 1877, approximately one thousand Northern Cheyennes embarked on a journey south towards Fort Dodge en route to Indian Territory. This relocation, under government supervision, was a testament to the Cheyennes' unwavering resilience. Just a year prior, they had participated in the Battle of the Little Bighorn, and some of the warriors still proudly wore clothing they had taken as trophies from the men of General Custer's U.S. Seventh Cavalry. As the Cheyennes camped near Fort Dodge in late July, before their journey continued to Camp Supply, a fascinating cultural exchange took place. Many Dodge City residents seized what they believed to be one of their last opportunities to observe the Cheyennes in their natural state. In return, the Cheyennes, out of curiosity and perhaps a sense of diplomacy, spent several days in the town, engaging in door-to-door begging and periodically performing native dances for the amusement of their hosts. Unknown to the residents of Dodge City, they would later have a second opportunity to encounter many of these same Native Americans under much less friendly circumstances. Once they arrived at the reservation in Oklahoma, their hopes of a new life were dashed, and they encountered disappointment and mistreatment at the agency. Nevertheless, the Cheyennes, especially Dulknife's people, did not succumb to despair. They struggled to adapt to their new home, their resilience shining through even in the face of unheard pleas for assistance. The harsh winter brought misery as disease and starvation claimed the lives of 47 Cheyennes, casting a dark shadow over their already troubled journey. Faced with such dire circumstances, the Cheyennes longed to return to their Montana homeland. The harsh, dry, and dusty conditions, coupled with a measles outbreak, made life on the reservation unbearable. It became clear to Dull Knife that the unfamiliar territory of the southern reservation was proving to be just as grim as their previous struggles.
In the early morning of September 9, 1878, Dull Knife made a daring and fateful decision. With his heart set on returning to his homeland at any cost, he quietly led his people north, their determination palpable in the air. Despite dwindling numbers, consisting of only about 353 individuals, Dull Knife's resolve remained unwavering. They departed from Indian Territory with 92 men, 120 women, 69 boys, and 72 girls, making their way through two-thirds of western Kansas in less than three weeks. No bison could be found en route, so they survived by stealing. Dysentery, chills, and fever plagued them, but their determination to reclaim what was rightfully theirs never wavered.
Following their departure, approximately 240 infantry and cavalry detachments swiftly activated the pursuit of Dull Knife and his band. Yet, the group's adept use of defensible terrain and shock tactics during combat allowed them to elude their pursuers. This strategic maneuvering showcases a tightly controlled yet precarious military society in motion, with the Cheyennes' individual warfare style giving way to centralized, disciplined leadership under a master strategist. Raiding parties fanned out on a large scale to seize fresh horses and supplies; feeding more than three hundred people daily made foraging for civilian livestock essential. Warriors captured dozens of horses and killed several employees at ranches along the Cimarron River. In Ford County on September 16, a cook in a cattle camp, "a colored man" named George Simmons, lost his life during a raid. In total, Northern Cheyenne violence claimed nine lives in Indian Territory and southwest Kansas. These attacks drove Dodge City residents into a state of near trepidation. The journey north was perilous, with the threat of capture looming over them at every turn. However, Dull Knife and his people's determination was unyielding, fueled by their yearning for freedom and their ancestral lands. The pursuit was intense, but Dull Knife and his band pressed on, their spirits unbroken. Their resolute march northward carried with it the echoes of defiance, a powerful force that fueled their unwavering strength and their refusal to be confined any longer. ![]()
Images: Map of the Route: University of Kansas Cartographic and GIS Services, from The Northern Cheyenne Exodus in History and Memory by James N Leiken and Ramon Powers; Cheyenne Woman traveling with a travois, image from True West Magazine, True West Archives; Punished Woman’s Fork, from WikiCommons, Public Domain; Pioneer Family from near Oberlin, Kansas, from Pinterest (could not locate original source); Kansas Historical Marker for the Last Indian Raids in Oberlin, Kansas, Kansas State Historical Society
Their determination to reclaim what was rightfully theirs led to clashes with settlers and conflicts with the U.S. Army. The struggles, sacrifices, and losses during their attempted escape from Indian Territory to Montana left a lasting mark on American Indian history. The echoes of the Cheyenne Exodus continue to resonate through time, shaping the narratives of Native Americans and settlers. This poignant chapter, chronicled by historians, novelists, and filmmakers, ensures the memory of the Cheyennes' trials endures, underscoring the enduring impact of their struggle.
However, Leiker and Powers deconstruct and surpass these stereotypes, emphasizing that history is a complex tapestry of narratives, never simple. They point out that the Cheyennes' flight left both white and Indian bones scattered along its route from Oklahoma to Montana. According to them, the descendants of the Cheyennes and the settlers they encountered are all Westerners who require a nuanced understanding of history to make sense of the bones and arrowheads scattered across the plains.
Leiker and Powers portray a rural West where diverse peoples, both Euro-American and Native American, seek to preserve their heritage through memory and history. This book is a compelling read for anyone living in the contemporary Great Plains or seeking to understand the West. Join us on November 1st and 2nd, 2024, for the 150th Anniversary Conference of the Western Cattle Trail. James N. Leiker will share the story of the Cheyenne Exodus, shedding light on the harsh realities experienced by the Cheyennes as they were forcefully taken from their northern homes. The journey was marked by disease, despair, and death. Sign up today to reserve your seat @ https://www.westerncattletrailassoc.com/conference-info.html
References:
Leiker, James N, and Ramon Powers. The Northern Cheyenne Exodus in History and Memory. University of Oklahoma Press, 9 Nov. 2012. 52-54 “The Northern Cheyenne Exodus in History and Memory.” University of Oklahoma Press, www.oupress.com/9780806143705/the-northern-cheyenne-exodus-in-history-and-memory/. Accessed 1 Aug. 2024. https://www.oupress.com/9780806143705/the-northern-cheyenne-exodus-in-history-and-memory/ richfed. “There’s No Place like Home … the Exodus of the Northern Cheyenne.” Richard’s Meanderings, 2 Jan. 2016, richfed.com/2016/01/01/isnt-it-a-long-way-home/. Accessed 1 Aug. 2024. https://richfed.com/2016/01/01/isnt-it-a-long-way-home/
Article By Michael D. King
By the 1730s, ranching had become vital to the region, transitioning to private ownership as Spanish missions declined. Central to our story is Margaret Borland, whose family journeyed from Ireland to Texas in the 1820s, driven by the promise of land and opportunity under John McMullen's impresario contract. The Heffernan family, including a young Margaret, faced immense challenges as they adapted to life in the untamed Coastal Bend region. Their remarkable resilience in overcoming cultural, environmental, and health obstacles set the stage for Margaret's significant role in the Texas cattle industry.
The episode also explores the tumultuous period of the Texas Revolution, highlighting the resilience and determination of Irish settlers. We follow the Heffernan family as they navigate the dangers posed by both Mexican and Texan forces, bandit attacks, and the harsh realities of war. Key events such as the Battle of Concepcion, the Goliad Declaration of Independence, and the infamous Goliad Massacre are examined for their impact on the settlers. The narrative shifts to the capture and negotiation involving Santa Anna, marking the end of hostilities and the beginning of a new era for Texas. We also touch upon the personal struggles and tragedies faced by the Heffernan family in the aftermath, including Margaret's life as a widow and single mother in the uncertain times of the Republic of Texas.
One of the pivotal moments in Margaret Borland's life was her journey along the Chisholm Trail, which played a crucial role in transforming Wichita into a bustling cow town. The Chisholm Trail, established by Jesse Chisholm in 1863, was instrumental in the Texas cattle trade. Margaret's journey along this trail is vividly recounted, highlighting the challenges and beauty encountered on the way to Wichita. Significant infrastructure developments like the Waco Suspension Bridge, which facilitated the cattle trade, are also discussed. Reflecting on Margaret's legacy and her untimely passing in 1873, the episode underscores the immense risks and hardships faced by those who dared to shape the early Texas cattle industry.
The story of Margaret Borland is not just one of personal triumph but also a testament to the broader historical context of the time. The Texas cattle industry was born in the Coastal Bend region, a geographical area of immense importance. The Heffernan family's journey from Ireland to Texas in 1829 marked the beginning of a wave of Irish immigration to the region and played a pivotal role in shaping the industry. The challenges they faced, from adapting to the new environment to dealing with cultural and health obstacles, highlight the resilience and determination required to build a new life in Texas. Margaret Borland's contributions to the Texas cattle industry were significant, but they were also marked by personal tragedy. Her life was shaped by the loss of her father during the Texas Revolution, the death of her first husband in a pistol duel, and the cholera epidemic that claimed her second husband. Despite these challenges, Margaret persevered, marrying Alexander Borland, one of the wealthiest cattle ranchers in South Texas. Together, they recognized Texas's potential as the hub of the American cattle industry, playing a significant role in its survival during the Civil War. These personal triumphs amidst adversity are a testament to Margaret's resilience and determination. The post-Civil War era brought new challenges, from a declining economy to the yellow fever epidemic of 1867. Margaret's resilience was again tested as she lost several family members to the epidemic, yet she continued to run the vast ranch by herself. Her determination was further demonstrated during the freak blizzard of 1871-72, which killed thousands of her cattle. Undeterred, Margaret organized a cattle drive to Kansas in 1873, marking the first time a woman led a trail drive. This monumental feat was a testament to her pioneering spirit and determination.
Margaret Borland's story is one of courage, resilience, and innovation. Her journey from Ireland to Texas, her contributions to the Texas cattle industry, and her personal triumphs and tragedies are a testament to the pioneering spirit of the Irish in Texas. This episode is rich in history, courage, and the indomitable spirit of those who shaped the early Texas cattle industry.
Join us for an episode that delves into the trailblazing legacy of Margaret Borland, a woman whose remarkable journey from Ireland to the heart of Texas cattle country continues to inspire. From the Spaniards introducing livestock in the 1690s to the critical role of ranching by the 1730s, we set the stage for Margaret's significant contributions. Experience the Heffernan family's resilience as they adapt to the rugged Coastal Bend region, navigating cultural, environmental, and health challenges that forged their indomitable spirit. Witness the harrowing trials during the Texas Revolution and follow Margaret's incredible journey along the Chisholm Trail, highlighting her role in transforming Wichita into a bustling cow town. Reflect on Margaret's legacy and the immense risks and hardships faced by those who dared to shape the early Texas cattle industry. Article By Michael King Gambling, a game of chance that was not just a pastime but a cultural phenomenon, held a significant place in the lives of the buffalo hunters and cowboys who propelled America's westward expansion in the nineteenth century. Whether it was a game of Poker played on a blanket or a Faro bet placed in a saloon, the thrill and excitement of gambling shaped the social fabric of frontier towns like Dodge City. The popularity of gambling in the West can be attributed mainly to the fact that all those who left the relative safety and comfort of the East to seek fame and fortune on the frontier were, in a sense, natural-born gamblers. In the early West, gambling was not just a game but a profession, a risky and uncertain calling that mirrored the intensity and unpredictability of frontier life. The arrival of the Texas cattle drives in the 1870s was a game-changer for the gambling scene in the West. These drives brought a wave of gamblers and eager cowboys to the railhead towns in Kansas, such as Dodge City. The ensuing card games of faro, Monte, twenty-one, and Poker, played in establishments like the Lone Star, the Lady Gey, the Long Branch, and the Alamo, became a constant feature, almost outnumbering the cowboys who were their prey. Dodge City, the final and most infamous of the Kansas cattle towns, underwent a remarkable transformation. By 1875, it became the destination for Texas Longhorns, and over the next decade, the small, makeshift town on the prairie blossomed into a Cowboy Capital. It earned its notorious reputation as the 'Beautiful, Bibulous Babylon of the Frontier,' a vivid testament to the rapid growth and prevalence of vices like gambling on the frontier. Frontier towns like Dodge City were a buzzing hub of high-stakes games like Poker and Ferro, drawing in gamblers from all corners. Gambling was popular entertainment during the 19th century, particularly in frontier towns. The arrival of Texas cattle drives brought a new wave of gamblers, including professional figures like Richard Dick Clark. Faro, a game with a complex layout and unique roles for the dealer and casekeeper, was a crowd favorite. Another popular game was Spanish Monte, which the Texas Cowboys loved. The intricate world of gambling in the Old West was not just about entertainment; it was an integral part of the lifestyle. Poker, in particular, has a fascinating history in the Wild West. One famous poker game involved ex-governor Thomas Carney, who lost all his possessions to Colonel Charlie Norton. Quick-shooting gamblers like Bat Masterson, who became famous as frontier lawmen, frequented these games. The game, often leading to disputes and even shootings, was more than just a pastime; it was a risk-filled environment that could change one's destiny. But the games of the Wild West were not limited to Poker and Faro. The Spanish Monte, for example, was introduced to the card game scene at the conclusion of the Mexican War in 1847. These rough and unruly frontier guerrilla fighters learned the game well while occupying Mexico City, and soon, it was popular in Dodge City. This game's origin goes back to Spain, where the name means mountain or pile, as in a pile of cards. In addition to Poker and Monty, there was also the game of Keno, a lottery game that originated from a Chinese general who needed money to finance a war. This game found its way into Dodge City and was played in gambling houses known as Keno Dens. It involved players purchasing a ticket or card and placing small wagers to win a significant payoff if luck was on their side. The world of Wild West gambling was a thrilling and risky realm where every bet placed was more than just a game. It was a pivotal part of the culture and lifestyle of the era, shaping the destinies of many and creating legends that are remembered today. Whether it was a high-stakes poker game in Dodge City or a round of Spanish Monte among Texas cowboys, the allure of gambling in the Wild West continues to fascinate us today. The Game of FaroArticle by Michael King After the cattle were herded together and branded, the cowhands separated them into herds. Initially, the cattle owners themselves drove the herds. Eventually, they hired agents to drive the cattle to the market for a fee, usually $1 per head delivered to the market. Large herds of over 2,500 cattle went up the trail to Abilene, with many smaller herds also making the journey. Each drive required a foreman, a cook, and about fifteen cowboys. Edgar Rye describes the system of driving cattle along the trail in his book, "The Quirt and the Spur." The system of driving the cattle along the trail is exciting, especially to a tenderfoot who, for the first time, is permitted to watch the proceedings. On either side of the herd near the front rode two cowboys, called the pointers, who kept the leaders on the trail and shaped the course of the herd. The remainder of the boys, except the cook and his assistant, were busy keeping up the stragglers and cutting out the strays. The cook's assistant, the wrangler, kept the saddle ponies moving in the wake of the herd, and the cook brought up the rear with the "chuck" wagon. The cattle were driven in double column formation, like an army corps on the march, and the cowboys, riding up and down the line like so many officers, presented a novel sight. In this way, large bodies of cattle were driven over the trail. Under the guidance of the trail boss, the operation was managed with precision. Each cowboy, equipped with three to ten horses and their own riding and camping gear, was prepared for the journey. The team was armed against wild animals, rustlers, and potential attacks from Native Americans. With the labor force, horses, chuckwagon, and food supplies, the drive could handle about 1500 cattle, potentially earning more than $50,000 once the cattle reached the stockyards in Dodge City or Abilene and were ready for sale.
The Longhorns were used to living on grass, and usually, they could find enough along the trail. However, even though the herds were forbidden, they would sometimes be stopped for a day or two to fatten on lush grass in the Indian Territory. The herd, strung out on the trail, was a testament to the teamwork involved in cattle herding. Two trusted cowhands rode in the lead, one on each side, as pointers. Behind them, at intervals, rode the swingmen and the flank riders to keep the cattle in order. In the dusty rear were the unenvied drag men to prod the laggards. This was not just a group of individuals but a team, each member playing a crucial role in the drive's success. Scouts rode in front of the herd to select the best route. The path would vary depending on the availability of water and grass. It also relies on the year's season and how many herds had passed over the ground that year. Despite minor changes in the course, the herd always traveled north. Scouts also alerted the trail boss to dangers such as bad weather, hostile Native Americans, and outlaws. The trail boss had complete authority over all the cowhands and other employees on the trail. In his book Cattle Trade of the West and Southwest, Joseph McCoy describes cattle-herding along the trail in early cattle-herding along the trail. It should be noted that 1869 the chuck wagon had yet to be invented. A herd of one thousand cattle will stretch out from one to two miles while traveling on the trail and is a magnificent sight, inspiring the drover with enthusiasm akin to that enkindled in the breast of the military hero by the presence of marching columns of men. Confident cowboys are appointed to ride beside the leaders and control the herd, while others ride beside and behind, keeping everything in its place and moving on, the camp wagon and "cavvie yard" bringing up the rear. Their resilience and determination in the face of such a monumental task is truly inspiring. A large herd with several saddle horses could require 12 men or more. The trail boss, either a ranch crew member or a hired drover—organized and led the affair. He selected specific routes and rode ahead, searching for water, grass, and suitable campgrounds. The cook and his chuck wagon also moved forward of the herds to ensure the meals and "ink-black" coffee were ready when the cowboys settled in for the evening. The chuck wagon and the cook play a crucial role in the success of the drive, providing sustenance and comfort to the hardworking cowboys. Each cowhand had specific duties. Several highly skilled cowhands, known as pointers, also called point riders or lead riders, rode at the side of the lead cattle to direct the herd. The point man who rides near the front of the herd determines the direction, controls the speed, and gives the cattle something to follow. Larger herds sometimes necessitate the use of two-point men. A privileged position on the drive, this job is reserved for more experienced hands who know the country they travel to. Flankers, who rode beside the herd, kept the cattle from straying too far. The flank riders rode near the rear about two-thirds of the way back. Their role is to back the swing riders up and keep the cattle bunched, preventing the back of the herd from fanning out. Other cowhands rode in the rear, or drag position, to keep cattle from straying behind. The drag riders keep the herd moving, pushing the slower animals forward. Because of the exhausting work and insufferable dust, this unpleasant job is typically reserved for green cowboys. Swing riders ride closely along each side of the herd, about a third back from the point rider. They are responsible for keeping the herd together and constantly looking for animals that might try to break away. They are also instrumental in backing up the point riders as the herd turns. If the point man leaves his position, a swing rider will ride until he returns. Wranglers took care of the extra horses. Each cowhand took along several horses. The men would switch horses a few times a day to keep the horses from tiring. The wrangler cares for the driver's remuda, ensuring the horses are fed and doctored. He typically drives the horses with the wagon, as his secondary duties include helping the cook rustle firewood, unhook the team, or any other odd jobs around the camp.
By Keith Wondra
Article Reprinted by Authors Permission from the May 9, 2023, Dodge City Globe ![]()
As Frederic Young, Dodge City historian, wrote, “names of Dodge City’s saloons…ring in the ear like the clink of glass mugs on beer taps and the smash of empty glasses against varnished mahogany-the Alamo, the Long Branch, the Billiard Hall, the Alhambra, the Saratoga, the Occident,…the Crystal Palace, the Lone Star, the Old House, the Hub, the Sample Room, the Oasis, the Junction, the Green Front, the South Side, the Congress Hall, the Stock Exchange, and the St. James. Some saloons…were known only by their proprietors whose reputations were the only advertising needed- Hoover’s, Peacock’s, Beatty & Kelly’s, and Sturm’s. Some bars ran in connection with hotels, dance halls, and theaters- the Dodge House, the Lady Gay, the Varieties, the Comique, and the Opera House.”
Many consider Hoover and McDonald’s Liquor Store and Saloon, which opened in 1872, the first saloon and business in Dodge City. It was south of the railroad tracks on Trail Street, east of Third Avenue. By the end of 1872, five of the thirteen wood-frame buildings in Dodge City were saloons. George Hoover and John G. McDonald moved their saloon and liquor store to the vibrant North Front Street a year later.
Early Dodge City saloons included gambling within the saloons. South of the tracks had women and music. They were also one-room shacks with dirt floors while serving watered-down drinks, mainly whiskey. The railroad's arrival in 1872 allowed saloon owners to update their establishments with fancy wooden bars, artwork, and billiard tables. The railroad also brought in brandy, champagne, wine, and various types of whiskey. More than mere watering holes, the early Dodge City saloons were the heart of a vibrant community. Initially serving the needs of buffalo hunters, their clientele expanded with the arrival of the cattle trade in 1875. This shift was not just a business decision but a reflection of the saloons' role in the community. They were more than just businesses; they were a part of the fabric of Dodge City, fostering a sense of belonging among the cowboys by naming several of their establishments after Texas names and places such as the Alamo, the Alhambra, and the Lone Star.
In 1877 alone, there were 11 saloons, with the most famous being the Long Branch. D. D. Colley and James F. Manion opened it in 1876 near the northeast corner of Second Avenue and Front Street. Two years later, Chalkley Beeson and William Harris bought it and turned it into a refined place with an air of sophistication. Since dancing was prohibited north of the tracks, Chalkley Beeson’s five-piece orchestra provided entertainment, later becoming the famous Dodge City Cowboy Band. The Long Branch served alcohol, Anheuser Busch beer, lemonade, milk, sarsaparilla, and tea. In February 1883, Luke Short bought Beeson’s interests in the Long Branch and partnered with William Harris. In November, Harris and Short sold the Long Branch to Roy Drake and Frank Warren, who owned it until 1885.
On the south side of the tracks, where dancing and soiled doves were allowed, the most famous saloon was the Lady Gay Dance Hall and Saloon. Jim Masterson, brother of Bat Masterson and Ben Springer, opened the Lady Gay in April 1877 on the southeast corner of Second Avenue and Trail Street. The interior consisted of a platform for an orchestra on one end with a bar on the other. On July 4, 1878, the Comique Theater opened and was attached to the Lady Gay. In 1881, Ben Springer sold his portion of the Lady Gay to A. J. Peacock, an owner of several Dodge City saloons. The Lady Gay was bought in August 1881 by Brick Bond and Tom Nixon and renamed the Bond & Nixon Old Stand.
By the early 1880s, prohibition had come to Dodge, and several saloon owners had converted their businesses to drug stores and restaurants. This included the Stock Exchange Saloon, which became a drug store, and the Lone Star Saloon, which became Delmonico’s Restaurant. By 1885, the cattle trade had left Dodge, and temperance leaders were trying to close the saloons. The November 27 and December 8, 1885 fires burned down the wood buildings on Front Street and closed the saloons.
Dodge City Saloon War of 1883
The Dodge City War of 1883 is the story of a bloodless conflict between a gambler named Luke Short and the political structures of Dodge City, who tried to force Short to close the Long Branch Saloon and leave town. Narrated by Brad Smalley, the incident was filled with ominous possibilities for violence and brought several of the most infamous gunfighters in the history of the Old West into Dodge City to seek justice for their friend – Luke Short. The event is best remembered because it produced one of the most iconic photos of gamblers and gunfighters. This photo, taken in celebration of their victory over the political structures in Dodge City, is known as the Peace Commission and stands as a testament to their courage and unity.
By Michael King Dodge City, a place of monumental historical significance, was founded partly due to buffalo hunting. However, the hunting only started after the buffalo became nearly extinct due to mass slaughter. At this point, Dodge City needed another source of income to survive. Fortunately, circumstances in other parts of the country ultimately provided that source, profoundly shaping the city's history. Post-Civil War, Texas, a land known for its resilience, was ripe for the cattle industry to thrive. Despite the lack of labor and the disrepair of their ranches, the Texans, renowned for their resourcefulness, saw a potential solution to their problems in the wild native Longhorns. Their resilience in the face of adversity is truly inspiring. Ranchers in South Texas embarked on the challenging task of rounding up the Longhorns to sell to eastern buyers. However, they faced a significant obstacle in transporting the cattle to the cities, with no railroads built to where the cattle were and the prospect of driving them to market, causing them to lose too much weight. The ranchers were in a predicament. Their solution was to walk the cattle to the nearest railroad shipping point, usually in Kansas, and then let them ride the rest of the way. The Chisholm Trail, the most famous cattle trail, started in south Texas and ended in Abilene, Kansas. As eastern and central Kansas became more densely populated, local farmers resented the Texans who allowed their cattle to roam freely, which damaged the crops. The farmers also feared "Texas Fever," a disease carried by ticks on the Longhorn cattle, which was deadly to the local cattle. The farmers put up fences to keep out the foreign herds and protect their cattle, and the Kansas legislature passed quarantine laws to prevent Texas cattle from moving through certain parts of Kansas. The legislative action led to the discontinuation of the Chisholm Trail, and cattlemen began using the Western Trail from south Texas to Dodge City, where the Texas trade was more welcome. On the trail, the hardy Longhorns, with their remarkable resilience, grazed for food and spaced themselves by instinct as they moved along about 12 miles a day. Their ability to endure the long journey and harsh conditions is truly admirable. A steer could be driven from the starting point in Texas to Dodge for about 75 cents. The fifteen or so men employed for the drive were each paid thirty to forty dollars a month, so by the time they reached Dodge, $90 or more jingled in their pockets, and they were ready to spend it all on a good time. The first herds heading to Nebraska reached the point of rocks on the outskirts of Dodge City in 1875, marking the beginning of a significant economic boom. The Santa Fe Railroad Company acted quickly by constructing a large new stockyard, and Robert Wright dispatched agents down the trail to assure the drovers that Dodge was ready and waiting for them. Storekeepers purchased new merchandise to meet the needs and desires of the cattlemen and cowboys instead of buffalo hunters. Saloon keepers gave their businesses Texas-inspired names such as Nueces, Alamo, and Lone Star. On May 12, 1877, the first herd from the Red River arrived in Dodge, solidifying the economic importance of the cattle trade. The drives increased until the number of cattle peaked at half a million for one year. The city was buzzing with activity and prosperity, a testament to the success and excitement of the cattle trade. Robert Wright advertised his store as "the largest and fullest line of groceries and tobacco west of Kansas City. It offers everything from a paper of pins to a portable house. The store provides groceries and provisions for your camp, ranch, or farm, as well as clothing, hats, boots, shoes, underclothing, overalls, Studebaker wagons, Texas saddles, rifles, carbines, pistols, festive Bowie knives, and building hardware. The profits are $75,000 a year." Wright mentioned that it was common practice to send $50,000 shipments to banks in Leavenworth for deposit because Dodge had no bank. The store served people of various nationalities. Wright could comprehend and communicate in most Indian languages. Mr. Isaacson was fluent in French, while Samuels had Spanish, German, Russian, and Hebrew expertise. Merchants and saloon keepers knew that trail hands expected to have a good time when they reached town, so they were prepared to provide the right ingredients. The saloons varied from small one-room shanties with dirt floors to long wooden buildings with painted interiors, intricately carved mahogany bars, mirrors, and paintings. These frontier saloons offered more than just poor-quality alcohol and strong spirits. The saloons also provided fine liqueurs, brandies, and the latest mixed drinks. Ice was always readily available to ensure that beer would be served cold and enhance the drinking experience in the newly developed Cowtown. The Old House Saloon even advertised anchovies and Russian caviar on its cold lunch menu. Dodge City's cattle era lasted only ten years, from 1875 to 1885. However, these crucial years shaped its reputation and global renown. It was a time of transition, as the 'Queen of the Cowtowns' evolved into a thriving farming community and trade center, marking a new chapter in its history.
Article By Michael King The Dodge City Rodeo has a captivating historical origin that sets it apart. It all began with the world premiere of the movie Dodge City' in 1939. Warner Brothers, the movie's producers, mandated that Dodge City be transformed into a western-themed town for the premiere. This included a requirement for an authentic rodeo to be held on the day of the premiere, April 1. Though they held a cowboy-style show at McCarty Stadium, there needed to be more time to prepare for a full-fledged rodeo by April 1. The "real" rodeo, the Boot Hill Roundup, had to wait until May. It was Dodge City's first annual rodeo. It lasted three days and was sponsored by the Great Southwest Free Fair Association, with Warner Brothers supplying much of the equipment. The final performance at McCarty Stadium on Sunday afternoon drew a crowd of 6000. The first rodeo event was a hit, as there's been a rodeo in some way, shape, or form every year since this emergent first effort. In 1950, Dodge City initiated a new festival, the Boot Hill Fiesta. The Fiesta was held in May, completely separate from the rodeo, and was a summertime affair. By 1960, the rodeo was known as the RCA Rodeo when it merged with the Boot Hill Fiesta. Together, they became Dodge City Days, held over three days during the summer. It later expanded to six days and is now ten days. In the 1970s, the rodeo portion of Dodge City Days nearly folded and was saved in 1977 when it was reorganized as the current Dodge City Days PRCA Roundup Rodeo. Ron Long served as its first president. The first reorganized rodeo had 175 contestants and paid out $8,200. Today, the Dodge City Rodeo has blossomed into a significant event. It occurs at the arena, east of 14th Avenue, just south of the Arkansas River. The five-day rodeo now boasts nearly 800 contestants, with pay-offs reaching an impressive $339,000. Dr. R.C. Trotter, who has been President of Roundup since 2003, has played a crucial role in this growth, committing 40 years of his life to Kansas' biggest rodeo, a Dodge City Days celebration staple. In his time with Roundup, the rodeo has blossomed. It's one of the top events in ProRodeo regarding contestant numbers and total payout. He credits the sponsors and fans for the success, but there's more to it. In its 35th year, Roundup Rodeo was enshrined into the ProRodeo Hall of Fame in Colorado Springs in July 2012. Trotter was on hand then, just as he is now. The commitment that comes with volunteerism is special. The more prominent festival, Dodge City Days, is sponsored by the Dodge City Area Chamber of Commerce. Their efforts have made Dodge City Days recognized as the second-largest community celebration in Kansas, topped only by the Wichita River Festival. Over 100,000 people attend at least one festival event, generating approximately three million dollars. However, the economic impact on Dodge City is about nine million dollars. The early pioneers like William F. Cody, Annie Oakley, Mabel Delong, William Pickett, Earl Bascom, and many more are at the heart of the rodeo's history. Their dedication and passion keep the rodeo spirit alive. It's the ranchers that genuinely support the legendary rodeos. Without our ranchers, we wouldn't have rodeo in the first place. As noted before, there are many complexions to rodeo. Some are the participants astonishing the gatherings in the stands; others are the timer technicians in the back, the rodeo clowns risking their lives in a barrel, and announcers moving the assemblage as they update them on the event. But when you think of it, rodeo is built by hard-working people with a passion. Like in the early days, people's livelihoods laboriously depends on ranchers. We have so many to thank for the history of rodeo. In conclusion, the history of rodeo is a testament to the enduring spirit of the cowboy. From its origins in the Wild West to its status as a professional sport, rodeo has undergone a fascinating evolution. The journey speaks to the resilience, courage, and innovation of those who have shaped this unique sport. As we look to the future, we can only anticipate that rodeo will continue to evolve, inspire, and thrill generations to come. For more information on the Dodge City Roundup Rodeo, visit the Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/DodgeCityRoundup/ or their Website at Dodge-City-Roundup-Rodeo. So, if you happen to be in the area, put on a hat and boots, and don't miss out on one of the top rodeos in the country, including Dodge City Days. |
Author"THE MISSION OF THE WESTERN CATTLE TRAIL ASSOCIATION IS TO PROTECT AND PRESERVE THE WESTERN CATTLE TRAIL AND TO ACCURATELY PROMOTE AWARENESS OF IT'S HISTORICAL LEGACY." Archives
June 2025
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