Wild Bill Hickok; The True Story Of His Last Six Weeks

Wild Bill

Hickok

The True Story About

His Last Six Weeks

Based on: An Actual Journal

Of That Time in Deadwood, SD

DAN GOLDSTEIN

Wild Bill Hickok; The True Story About His Last Six Weeks

Dan Goldstein

Copyright Dan Goldstein 2010

Published at Smashwords

Second Edition – May, 2012g

Smashwords License Statement

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Cover, graphics, layout design by Lisa Camp

Editing, formatting by Jon-Michael Fennelly

ISBN: 9781476204826

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my friend,

George (Swamp Fox) Hedberg

of South West Florida ‘Gunslingers’

and to all ‘Gunslingers’ everywhere.

Introduction

The Heritage of an American is quite different, depending on whether one is from North, East, South or West. The uniqueness of the Old West played a vital role shaping modern American culture. Many pioneers braved the wilderness, indians, critters, snakes, scorpions, deserts and long treks in wagon trains crossing the vast plains looking for a new start. A new life in the barren land helped shape independent and self-reliant Americans. We Americans have never lost these virtues. From this era came men the likes of Wild Bill Hickok, the Earp brothers, and Doc Holiday, outlaws who became Sheriffs, and Marshals, Mayors and Governors, even those who have run for the Presidency of the U.S.

This is not an attempt to provide a complete biography of James Butler Hickok, but a focus on the last six weeks of life for this flashy army scout, Indian fighter, lawman and gambler. Many may not have learned about this man, sometimes viewed as an outlaw, the killer of many men, or the gentleness of a man who was all of these. In this book you will read about Wild Bill from the perspective of Nathan Bernard, a close friend and protégé of the famous character, who was often portrayed in print, on television, and on the movie screen.

This is the real life story as seen through the eyes of Nathan Bernard, a young Jewish boy and a native of Boston, who studied every piece of information, he could get his hands on, about Wild Bill Hickok. In the spring of 1874, Nathan set out to meet his dime store novel hero. Early in his journey, Nathan met Wyatt Earp when he passed through Wichita, Kansas. Nathan’s stay in Wichita lasted a little longer than he had planned. During this time Marshall Earp taught Nathan the art of the fast-draw and other gunman techniques necessary for survival in the western frontier. Eventually, Earp hired Nathan as his deputy and asked him to stay a while longer. After almost two years, Nathan left Wichita to fulfill his dream of meeting Wild Bill Hickok.

Nathan arrived in the Deadwood, Dakota Territory in the summer of 1876 at the, not so tender, age of sixteen. Upon meeting his hero, Wild Bill, Nathan started a journal of significant daily events as he saw them. It was only six weeks from the time that he arrived in Deadwood until the day that Wild Bill was killed. In that incredibly short period of time Nathan and Wild Bill became very best friends. In fact, they developed a father and son relationship.

Nathan also met some of Wild Bill’s other friends, including Calamity Jane and CH Utter and, most notably, a young lady named Francine Kelly, who he later nicknamed Fancy and married after returning to Boston from Deadwood.

After his good friend, Wild Bill Hickok was assassinated on August 2, 1876, Nathan was so depressed that he was unable to continue writing in his journal.

This book is written using basically the same language spoken by the people of that time as they were written in Nathan Bernard’s journal. It honors the lives of those great and celebrated people, our forefathers.. (yeh must be athinkin’ as yeh reads ’bout who an’ when these words be used...), many of whom were uneducated miners and cowboys in the 1800's (that be ‘bout right.)

Upon hearing about the existence of the journal, I visited Nathan’s eldest son, James Bernard, and his son, Butler. I persuaded them to share the events in the journal with me. Over the next few days they also shared many stories that Nathan had told them, but had not included in his journal.

Many people confuse Wild Bill Hickok and Buffalo Bill Cody, thinking they were one and the same. In reality there were vast differences between them. Bill Cody was mostly interested in money. He made his name from the dime store novels also, but in a different way. He slaughtered buffalo, thousands and thousands of buffalo, for their meat and sold it to the U.S. Army. In doing so he took away the major food and clothing source from the Indians. Years later he used most of that money to form Bill Cody’s Wild West show, trying to make even more money. Interestingly enough, one of the main acts in the show, ‘supposedly’ was Wild Bill. He was known in later years as a Frontiersman, and not for the depletion of the many of thousand Buffalo he murdered with his rifle from a distance, picking them off like a bunch of cans in a shooting range.

In contrast, Wild Bill killed many men, but all were of their own choosing. He was always a fair, passionate and giving man. Wild Bill was always fighting for the underdog, which was why he protected the many towns in which he lived. As a Marshal or Sheriff he kept peace to allow citizens the freedom to walk their streets. Some of these differences are quite clearly depicted in this book.

Nathan’s journal described the day to day events, personal discussions and mentoring activities that occurred between Nathan and his hero. WILD BILL HICKOK: THE TRUE STORY ABOUT HIS LAST SIX WEEKS, which is set in Deadwood, Dakota Territory (South Dakota) and is based on that journal, conveys the deep anxieties of Wild Bill’s life, sheds light on his romantic escapades with Calamity Jane and helps clarify the truth behind the infamous Dead Man’s Hand, the cards he held when shot by Jack McCall.

Prologue

WILD BILL HICKOK; THE TRUE STORY ABOUT HIS LAST SIX WEEKS - Based on the actual journal, written at that time by Nathan Bernard, is a work of love and respect depicting Hickok as only one very close to him could. Unknown to many, a diary of the days leading up to Mr. Hickok’s death was kept by a young Jewish boy from Boston, Mass. named Nathan Bernard who, in a few short weeks, came to know him as well as anyone else in the world. Nathan’s diary and the memories told to his son James and grandson, Butler, are the basis of this book.

Setting

The Town of Deadwood

Al Swearengen assisted in the illegal lay-out of the town of Custer in 1875 near a place called French Creek, part of Sioux Indian country, where the gold strike started. Later most of the miners went North and established a camp called Hillyo, which was eventually changed to Hill City. During a mild weather period in 1876, the miners moved again to the Deadwood Gulch area and founded a mining camp they named Deadwood. The name was chosen for the many dead trees that had toppled over during storms and had lain there, rotting, for years, as ‘dead wood’.

To describe what Main Street Deadwood looked like, at that time, you have to imagine a dirt road with wagons, horses, and mules traveling back and forth, creating deep ruts and leaving behind the usual manure trails. When the town was hit with a major rain storm, the puddling of water in the long, sloppy ruts made the run down, wooden buildings look like mansions. As bad as you may imagine the town looking, it was worse. To cross the road people either had to walk on planks, put down for that purpose, or take their chances on walking across in mud half way up to their knees. Women didn’t dare cross the street. If they tried, the old miners, with their pants held up by suspenders and buttons all opened for the public to see their yellow-stained Long Johns, watched, whistled and made crude comments.

It was not uncommon for drunks to make attempts to cross the planks, only to slip off and land with a splash of thick mud splattering in all directions. They often remained there, being laughed at, when they couldn’t get up. After a rain, it was rare for women to leave home, knowing what they would have to face. If it wasn’t happening to you it was quite an amusing sight. This was Deadwood at the beginning.

Now Deadwood looks like any other small town in America. Roads are paved and small businesses line the Main Street. Some of the original buildings remain, such as the saloon where Wild Bill Hickok was shot along with the same hotels, all refurbished. Almost every store on Main Street has at least one slot machine spinning away and clanking out the coins to the few winners. If you haven’t been to Deadwood, South Dakota yet, it’s a ‘must see’ trip. It will transfer you back to one of America’s most exciting times, and part of the heritage that shaped modern American culture. You will remember this town for the rest of your life.

Testimonial

WILD BILL HICKOK; THE TRUE STORY ABOUT HIS LAST SIX WEEKS - Based on the actual journal, written at that time by Nathan Bernard, is a must read for anyone who enjoys history written with emotion. The father and son relationship between Wild Bill Hickok and Nathan Bernard reflects the importance of trust and friendship in life and the power it can give you. An outstanding read for all ages.

Richard K. And Gail P. Byrne, Authors

Disclaimer

Other than the name of Wild Bill Hickok, his friends, associates, locations, and some actual events, this book, in a small part, is a work of fiction. This book is for the reader’s enjoyment and does not describe fully the events which actually did or did not take place in Deadwood, South Dakota. The narrative is a composite of Nathan Bernard’s Journal, it’s history, orally provided by son James and Grandson Butler Bernard, newspaper articles and accounts from other sources. The language has been edited from the common crude and vulgar language used by the miners and residents of Deadwood Camp to avoid offending sensitive readers.

Chapter 1

Summer- 1876

Nathan Bernard was about to pass the outskirts of a town and decided to stop to get directions to Deadwood, Dakota Territory. He reined in his old faithful sorrel, Swifty, in front of the local sheriff’s office. He did a couple of deep bends trying to loosen up, beat his dusty hat against his leg and walked into the sheriff’s office.

"Afternoon, Sheriff. I would be appreciated if yeh could gives me directions t’ Deadwood? By th’ way, Sheriff, what be th’ name o’ this here town?

Sure young fella, glad t’ oblige an’ th’ town’s name be Lutz.

The sheriff opened his desk, rustled around and came up with an old wanted poster and wrote the directions down for him on the back side of the poster. When he was finished, he said to Nathan,

Lutz look at this together. The sheriff realized Nathan wasn’t aware he was trying to be funny about the town’s name. He pointed to the beginning of his directions, explaining each notation to Nathan, and, then, offered him a cup of coffee. They sat there for an hour and a half just talking. Nathan mentioned his staying in Wichita, Kansas, with Marshal Wyatt Earp for the last two years, he told the sheriff that Wyatt Earp actually taught him the art of the fast-draw. The sheriff put his coffee down and leaned forward, not sure if this young kid was just blowing air. He looked like he wasn’t sure, when he asked Nathan,

Yeh be tryin’ t’ pull me leg, yeh be jest a young kid? If yeh be tellin’ me th’ truth, shows me how fast yeh be. Nathan stood up with a broad smile on his face and told the Marshal to count out to three. The Marshal counted one...two... three, before he had the full ‘three’ word out of his mouth Nathan’s six-shooter was drawn and aimed. The Marshal stood up, walking around to the front of his desk said,

Good God, I barely seen yer hands move.

That be what Marshal Earp showed me. An’ th’ funny thing, Sheriff, I be faster than Earp. When he seed what I wuz he hired me t’ be a deputy. I wuz a deputy fer ‘bout a year an’ a half. An’ fer yer infermation Sheriff, I be fourteen whens I be startin’ with Earp. I be sixteen now.

Yeh be interested in doin’ th’ same here, fer me? the Sheriff asked.

No, not really, I gotta git myself t’Deadwood. I has been expectin t’ be there two years ago. I be sorry, but I thanks yeh for th’ offer, Sheriff. I only takes alls that time t’ learn whiles Marshal Earp be teachin’ me t’ fast-draw. An’ I has nuff money t’ take me fer a few months that I be saved from me bein’ a deputy. Now I has t’ git a fast drink an’ git goin’ again. I thanks yeh very much, Sheriff.

Nathan turned and walked across the street to the local saloon. He walked in through the swinging doors and ambled to the bar. He ordered a beer and carried it to an open table. He sat back, trying to rest his body and quickly fell asleep. He only woke when somebody kicked his chair.

Wake up kid, I wants a chance t’ kick yer ass without yer Marshal Earp t’ backs yeh up. Nathan opened his eyes to see a familiar face standing in front of him. Nathan stood and backed up, to give himself room to deal with this stupid man. The man told him his name and said he was going to shoot Nathan in the ass when he started running away. Nathan then raised his arm up into the air to loosen up. It seemed that he did recognize the man from Wichita, Kansas. He recalled that he had to shut the man up while they were both in a Wichita saloon when this man was making crude remarks about everybody in the saloon. Nathan grinned.

Yeh wants t’ draw on me Mister?

Yeah, I wants t’ draw on yeh, but yeh draw first, I don't wanna be th’ one to start th’ trouble. Nathan answered, I be tellin’ yeh, I never draws first, I alls wait fer th’ stupid man who be stupid enuf t’ draws on me first. Yeh game to be first, yeh coward, yella belly?" With those words coming from a kid, the man started to draw but stopped in the middle, without a gun in his hand, facing a six-shooter with the hammer already cocked and ready to shoot.

Yeh not shootin’ mister, Nathan said smiling. Yeh be gettin’ soft in yer old age? An’ next time, picks on somebody that be yer own size, instead o’ a youngster like myself. Will yeh do that fer a young kid? Holding his six-shooter up, because he knew the man would surely shoot him in the backside, Nathan finished his beer and walked out to old Swifty. He saddled up and rode in the direction the Sheriff had given him.

He rode out of town suspecting he was being followed by the man from the saloon. but he didn't see anybody until he was nearing the border of Dakota Territory. The sun was almost all the way down and darkness was setting in. Nathan had a small fire burning when three men on horses approached the fire. It caught Nathan by surprise when they came up to him with their pistols aimed at him. The man who had accosted him earlier walked to Nathan, with his gun drawn, and said,

Takes th’ iron off’n yer hip very slowly... I says very slowly, he repeated, louder. Nathan knew that once he took the gun and laid it aside, his goose would be cooked, but he had no choice. He dropped his gun onto the ground and stood up. As he did, the man smashed him in the face, knocking him down and ending Nathan’s thoughts of getting to his six-shooter, somehow, before he was shot by this blowhard. Nathan knew he had to get to his weapon. His life might be over if he didn't. He looked up at the man.

Yeh always be attackin’ sixteen year old kids, mister? If that be what yeh do, yeh must thinks yeh not be very good with a gun. Yeh afraid t’ face a kid with a gun?

One of the man’s two partners said the same thing to the man with the gun. What the man’s partner said angered the man with the gun, and he turned sideways ready to shoot the man who spoke up. As he turned, Nathan used his quickness to reach for his gun on the ground. He grabbed it, and in a sweeping and rolling motion, he had the gun pointed at the man and pulled the trigger. His shot missed the man and hit a tree about five feet away. Nathan cringed, wishing his accuracy was as good as his speed. The man turned back to Nathan to see him with his gun pointing at his stomach.

Now, yeh son o’ a bitch, Nathan said. Yeh wants me t’ shoot yer belly outta yer body? I doesn't wants t’ kill yeh mister but if'’n I has t’ kill yeh now I surely will. Now yeh drop yeh gun and walks away from it, an’ keeps away from those trees." The man did what he was told.

"Now walks slowly t’ yeh horse an’ ride outta