by John Meadows
Within a few years Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show had gathered momentum, playing to sold-out audiences throughout America, including New York’s famous Madison Square Garden. The Buffalo Bill legend grew to make him the most famous celebrity in the world, and his ‘Wild West Show’ toured America and Europe for over thirty years. Even Queen Victoria went to see it in London in 1887. Two years later, the Wild West Show starred at the Paris World Fair which was celebrating the centenary of the French Revolution, but this time it had to share top billing with the sensational opening of the Eiffel Tower. One critic wrote the Wild West Show was ‘the greatest success America had ever sent abroad’.
The legend of Buffalo Bill was largely myth, created by an author called Ned Buntline who wrote over 1,000 ‘dime novels’ based on the life of ‘Buffalo Bill’; which ranged from elaborate exaggeration to pure fantasy. Buffalo Bill actually went as guest of honour to see a play about himself in New York, which of course was his fictitious self on stage. Incredibly, from then on he adopted the persona of the figure he had seen and started to act the part in everyday life. In modern-day parlance, he had become a ‘caricature of himself’. It was as if Basil Rathbone had watched himself on film and then became Sherlock Holmes, or if Daniel Craig wakes up every morning believing that he really is James Bond.
One of the stars of the Wild West Show was Annie Oakley, who became famous as a sharp-shooter with a repertoire of incredible trick shots. Another was James Butler Hickok, a flamboyant long-haired former scout during the Civil War who became known as ‘Wild Bill’. As with Buffalo Bill, Hickok’s gun-fighting reputation was created by outrageous made-up stories which somehow got him the job of Marshal of Abilene. I feel another song coming on: ‘Abilene, Abilene; prettiest town I’ve ever seen’. Good song, but whoever wrote it should get out more.
I would love to have been a fly-on-the-wall to listen to a conversation between Wild Bill Hickok and Buffalo Bill (an entertaining Double Bill) as two compulsive liars tried to out-exaggerate and out-brag each other. It must have been something like Monty Python’s ‘Four Yorkshire men’ sketch.
The Wild West shows re-enacted stories and battles to entertain the public in the same way as those in the Colosseum in Ancient Rome. They were greatly romanticized, with a relaxed attitude to historical accuracy, similar to modern-day American movies. However, despite living in a fantasy world, Buffalo Bill did have sympathy for the way the Indians had been treated and the Sioux featured prominently in his shows. Chief Sitting Bull was invited to join the show, and Buffalo Bill presented him with a gift of a show-horse which had been trained to perform crowd-pleasing tricks. He was regarded as the most famous living Indian and he was widely celebrated and respected as a former warrior. The finale to the shows was always a spectacular re-enactment of Sitting Bull’s victory at the Little Big Horn. However, defiant to the end, he could not resist insulting white audiences in his own tongue, forcing nervous translators to think quickly on their feet and change what Sitting Bull had actually said. As far as I know, Queen Victoria didn’t understand the Sioux language. She would not have been amused.
Indian Heritage
The history of the North American Indians dates back many thousands of years. It is a complex story, rich in culture and sophistication, but, like many indigenous populations throughout the world, ultimately ending in tragedy. Naively, Richard and I began our Greyhound bus adventure in search of the ‘Wild West’ of our childhood memories, but we found that the reality was very different.
Before the arrival of Europeans there were numerous Native American Nations throughout the continent, speaking hundreds of different languages. They hunted on foot and rarely came into contact with other tribes due to the vast distances separating them. There were occasional skirmishes, but generally life was peaceful and the concept of all-out war, one nation against another (which seemed to be a way of life in Europe), was unknown. Cultures and traditions in art, music and dance had evolved to a high level of sophistication. They were far from being the screeching savages of popular imagery.
Millions of buffalo roamed the Great Plains, providing the essentials of life; food, clothing and shelter. The horse was introduced via the backdoor, as it were, in the south-west of the country. Christopher Columbus brought the first horses from Spain to the West Indies on his second voyage in 1493, that is, the year after he ‘sailed the ocean blue, in fourteen hundred and ninety two’. Incidentally, the so-called ‘discoverer’ of America, Christopher Columbus, never actually set foot on American soil and, up to his death, never knew of the existence of an entire continent. He always believed that he had arrived in India, hence the name West Indies.
It was still nearly two centuries before the Indians got their hands, or should I say back-sides, on the horses. In 1680, a revolt by Pueblo Indians in New Mexico forced Spanish colonists to withdraw back to Mexico, abandoning a great number of horses. These were taken by the Indians and, within a century, horses were dispersed throughout the plains. The Indians believed that this new animal was a ‘big dog’ and had been brought from the sky and left for them as a gift from the ‘Creator’. Apache warriors on horseback became known as ‘Dog Soldiers’.
The horse transformed their way of life probably in a similar way to the introduction of the railways in Europe and the ‘Model-T’ Ford in America. Hunting became easier and the tipis (tepees) became bigger because horses were able to drag much longer poles than their dogs (real dogs) had previously been able to manage. This new form of transport meant that, inevitably, distant tribes came into contact with each other much more frequently. Human nature meant that conflicts and some battles did occur, but a code of conduct evolved. It was almost like a code of chivalry, similar to that of Medieval Knights in Europe. Being civilized peoples they realized that to annihilate each other would be futile, especially with the influx of guns in the 18th Century from trading with Europeans. ‘Ritualized warfare’ developed, and a mere touching of an enemy, known as ‘counting coup’, became a higher honour than killing.
In general the Indians were peace-loving and welcoming, and this is how they first treated the white man. At the earliest English settlement at Jamestown, Captain John Smith said that he and his first colonists would have starved if neighbouring Indians had not fed them and taught them how to plant corn. Following the marriage in 1614 of John Rolfe, one of the leaders of the colony, and Pocahontas, the daughter of King Powhatan, they taught the English how to cultivate and cure tobacco. It’s a pity they didn’t learn how to cure lung cancer at the same time.
Tobacco played a vital role in establishing a permanent foot-hold in America because it provided a highly profitable crop for export. It was introduced to England via Spain and Portugal, and the French Ambassador to Portugal played a prominent role. His name was Jean Nicot, hence the name nicotine. Smoking became a sensation in England, and I can’t help thinking that the marketing people who sold the idea must have been the greatest ever. It reminds me of the recording by the Canadian comedian Bob Newhart who hilariously parodied an imaginary conversation with Sir Walter Raleigh (Nutty Walt) along the lines of: “You roll up the tobacco? Put it in your mouth? Set fire to it?!! And then breathe in the smoke?” If that was today I think the entrepreneurs on ‘Dragons’ Den’ would watch the sales-pitch through tears of laughter before announcing, “I’m out.”
So what happened to disrupt the peaceful co-existence of the Indians with each other, and subsequently with the European settlers? It can probably be summed up in one word: greed. The Europeans wanted ever more land and resources, and when gold was discovered on Indian land that was the final death knell. In the 17th Century, the French had a virtual monopoly of the Fur trade; while the Dutch were primarily in the Beaver business (Anyone who has been to Amsterdam would say that they still are). Inevitably, conflicts started to erupt as the four main plains tribes (the Kiowa, Comanche, Arapaho and Cheyenne) were slowly displaced by the United St
ates Government. The Arapaho and Cheyenne actually signed a treaty in 1851 at Fort Laramie, but they had very little idea of what they were signing, since they had no concept of individual ownership of land. They saw themselves as part of the landscape, equal with plants and animals. On the other side of the world, the Australian Aborigines had a similar philosophy. This point of view is summed up perfectly in the movie ‘Crocodile Dundee’ when the eponymous character, played by Paul Hogan, explains that Aborigines believe that ‘people fighting over land is like two fleas arguing about who owns the dog’.
Rock of Ages
Cheyenne, Wyoming was our next stop, and, in line with our ‘musical odyssey’, here is an interesting item of trivia: Robbie Williams had a big hit with a song called ‘Let Me Entertain You’ which has a great line, ‘look me up in Yellow Pages, I will be your Rock of Ages’, a juxtaposition of lyrics surely unique in the history of song writing. Hands up anyone who can identify a link with the City of Cheyenne... No?
The world’s first telephone directory was produced by the Wyoming Telephone Company and published in Cheyenne in 1881. Because of a shortage of white paper at the time, they were printed on yellow paper. That is the origin of the ‘Yellow Pages’ tradition which has spread throughout the world. I am not sure if ‘Rock of Ages’ was included in the original listings.
Cheyenne was originally known as Crow Creek Crossing and renamed in honour of the Cheyenne nation. The name Cheyenne derives from the word ‘Shyenne’, which means ‘aliens’ or ‘people of a foreign language’. It was given to them not by Europeans but by the Sioux. Due to Cheyenne’s strategic position on the Transcontinental Railroad, the city grew rapidly with a proliferation of rowdy and bawdy theatres and saloons. Paradoxically, an Opera House was built and the Union Pacific brought some of the best shows from the east. Lily Langtree was probably the most famous star of the day, and she performed in Cheyenne on her way to San Francisco.
They Died with their Boots on
To save money, Richard and I decided to take an overnight bus north to Montana. We didn’t really plan where we were going but, as serendipity would have it, we came across a place familiar to us. As we crossed the Big Horn River we remembered ‘Custer’s Last Stand’.
George Armstrong Custer, the most famous military officer of his generation, had led an attack on a Sioux village on the Washita River in 1868. The soldiers destroyed everything mercilessly and massacred many of the inhabitants. In a different attack by other troops, the Cheyenne had been massacred at Sand Creek, and these atrocities led to a government inquiry. Understandably, Custer was hated by the Indian tribes, but they had to wait until the next decade to gain revenge.
The Sioux, under the famous chiefs Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, formed an alliance with the Cheyenne and, in June 1876, out-witted Custer (He was after all bottom of his class at West Point Military Academy). The Sioux and Cheyenne lured him to the banks of the Little Bighorn River, and the warriors took revenge on Custer in the famous battle, leaving no surviving soldiers. In the aftermath, his body was stripped naked and disfigured. A warrior jabbed the shaft of an arrow up Custer’s penis. Perhaps this is why it has become known as ‘Custer’s Last Stand’.
One of Custer’s officers, Captain Keogh, rode a black horse called ‘Comanche’ and miraculously the horse survived. He became famous and honoured as a national treasure, never ridden again, living in retirement for another fifteen years. The other survivor of the Battle of the Little Bighorn was a mascot, a bulldog named ‘Joe Bush’. He stood guard amongst the mutilated remains on the battlefield until he was rescued a few days later. It is a sad story of canine devotion, similar to that of ‘Greyfriars Bobby’ in Edinburgh.
The Indian chiefs thought that the Little Bighorn would cause the American government to finally give-up trying to defeat the plains Indians, but, unfortunately for them, it had exactly the opposite effect. News of the Custer massacre caused outrage from the American public, similar to later historical events like the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour in 1941 and the World Trade Centre attack by al Qaeda in New York in 2001.
Richard and I took another overnight bus back to Cheyenne and stayed a few hours before heading west. As the bus was leaving Cheyenne, we were flagged down by two police cars. An officer came onboard and spoke quietly to the driver, and then two other officers unceremoniously ‘assisted’ a man from the back seat of one of their cars. They escorted him to the bus and bundled him on board. He dusted himself off and flamboyantly straightened his clothing before saying goodbye to the policemen in a tone of overly polite sarcasm with undertones of insolence. They simply smiled and waved him off the way you do when finally getting rid of a guest who has long over-stayed his welcome. The bus was about three-quarters full, and every passenger had put down their books or magazines to watch what was going on. He was quite a presentable character, in his mid-twenties, of average height with slim build, and dark hair and a neatly-trimmed beard. He had neither the appearance nor demeanor of an armed robber or a mass murderer, which made the manner of his exit from Cheyenne all the more intriguing. As he walked down the aisle of the bus, he started to greet people as if they were old friends with a cheery ‘How ya doin’ or ‘Good to see ya’. Some passengers acknowledged him nervously, but most averted their gaze and continued reading. The seats in front of us were free so he slid in, but immediately kneeled on them and looked over the back the way irritating children do on long flights. However, he wasn’t about to start playing ‘peek-a-boo’ with us.
“Hey, how you guys doin’?” he asked enthusiastically, while offering his hand.
“Okay,” I mumbled, returning his hand-shake while avoiding eye contact.
“And what about you?” he asked, turning to Richard.
Being posher and more well-to-do than me, Richard replied with a very polite, “I’m very well, thank you for asking.”
Well, that was it.
“Hey, you guys are from England?” he said with that American cadence which turns a statement into a question.
“We are indeed,” continued Richard seemingly willing to engage this suspicious character in conversation. I wondered at that moment if Richard had actually looked up from his book to notice that this man had been run out of town by not one, but two police cars. I had no choice but to join in as the three of us chatted together for about an hour. The subject of why he was given a police escort to the city limits never came up. I don’t think either of us wanted to know the past misdemeanors of our new best friend. We chatted congenially, and I must say that he seemed a likeable, decent chap. But then again, so do all conmen. During a short comfort stop he insisted on buying us coffee. He told us his name was Brett and he was on his way to San Francisco to visit his sister. We found out that he lived in New York and worked for a show business ticket agency. When we told him that New York City was our final destination, he suggested enthusiastically that we should call him. A quick mental calculation told me that we would be enjoying his company for another thousand miles through the Rocky Mountains, Utah and Nevada to California. It would be a long way to sleep with one suspicious eye open.
Who Are Those Guys?
Laramie in Wyoming is another Wild West town to evoke childhood memories. The nearby Rawlins Penitentiary once held a prisoner called Robert Leroy Parker, who formed a partnership with Harry Longbaugh to become one of the West’s most famous duos. We know them as Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and their posthumous fame owes much to the eponymous movie starring Paul Newman and Robert Redford. Sundance takes its name from an Indian festival and the name is well-known today as a prestigious annual film festival, founded by Robert Redford. The gang’s ‘modus operandi’ was to blow up and rob trains. A memorable scene from the movie shows a carriage exploding to such an extent that it is showered by confetti as banknotes are blown in all directions. “Are you sure you used enough dynamite there, Butch?” was the immortal punch-line
. It is right up there with Michael Caine’s “You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!” from ‘The Italian Job’.
Diamond Geezers
Here’s an interesting little story we came across in Rawlins:
In 1872, two bedraggled, wrinkled old prospectors called Phillip Arnold and John Slack walked into the Bank of California in San Francisco. They handed a tied-up sack to the cashier and asked him to put it in a safe deposit box. Pointedly, they mentioned that they were off into town to celebrate. The old-timers left the bank, but they had sowed some seeds of intrigue. Naturally the cashier could not resist opening the bag, which contained a fortune in uncut diamonds. He took it to his boss William Ralston, a rotund, avaricious man always looking for opportunities to enrich himself. (A banker... Out to feather his own nest... Surely not!) After an exhaustive search of all the bars and casinos of San Francisco, Ralston and the cashier finally found Arnold and Slack, who acted coy and defensively. Eventually they admitted that they had found a massive diamond field, but had not filed for ownership of the land. Ralston offered financial backing to mine the diamonds and the two naive prospectors reluctantly accepted the deal. They agreed to take Ralston and his mining engineer to the site near Rawlins, Wyoming, but only if they agreed to be blindfolded. Ralston returned ecstatic and paid the prospectors to begin production. He put together a financial syndicate including, amongst others, Baron Rothschild, one of America’s wealthiest businessmen, former Civil War General George McClellen, and none other than Charles Lewis Tiffany, founder of the world’s most prestigious jewellery company.