James Butler “Wild Bill” Hickock

9th Great-Grandparent of Donald D. Erwin	5th Great-Grandparent of James Butler Hickock
Jane Gallion (1602-1666)
Thomas Paine (1632-1657)	Hannah Mayhew (1635-1723)
Penelope Paine (1656-1719)	Jemima Daggett (1666-1732)
Thomas Cheney (1684-1733)	Israel Butler (1696-1756)
Elizabeth Cheney (1704-1757)	Benjamin Butler (1727-1800)
Moses Renfro (1728-1824)	James Butler (1763-1830)
Mary Renfro (1810-1835)	Polly Butler (1804-1878)
Mary Neff (1810-1835)	James B. “Wild Bill) Hickock (1837-1876)
Susanna Miller (1832-1894)
Charles Ellis Hayworth (1866-1941)
Hazel Nell Hayworth Erwin (1889-1976)
Donald Dean Erwin (1933-)

James Butler “Wild Bill” Hickok’s reputation as the Old West’s premier gunfighter or ‘man-killer’ made him a legend in his own lifetime–a distinction shared by few of his gun–fighting contemporaries. Thanks to an article in Harper’s New Monthly Magazine in February 1867 and some other colorful accounts published in the mid-1860s, Hickok, or rather “Wild Bill,” as he was usually called, was soon elevated from regional to national status. And since his death in 1876, he has achieved worldwide fame.

This woodcut of Hickok appeared in the February 1867 Harper’s New Monthly Magazine as the lead illustration for a George Nichols article that helped to make Wild Bill famous. But even without such publicity, Hickok would have made his mark, for he was a man whose personality, strength of character and single-mindedness set him apart. Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer described him as a “strange character, just the one which a novelist might gloat over… a Plainsman in every sense of the word… whose skill in the use of the rifle and pistol was unerring.” Many others besides Custer regarded Wild Bill as the best pistol shot on the Plains–a man whose quick-witted reaction to danger enabled him, according to one account, to draw and fire his Colt Navy revolvers “before the average man had time to even think about it.”

Credited with the deaths of 100 or more bad–men, Hickok emerged as perhaps the most prolific man-killer of his generation. But when some of his critics branded him a “red-handed murderer,” his reaction was predictable. Hickok admitted his flaws and vices as do most people, but he reckoned that being called a red-handed murderer was going too far.

Sadly, it is Hickok’s pistol prowess and his image as the slayer of innumerable bad–men that is best remembered today. Indeed, many seem unaware of his deserved reputation as a great Civil War scout, detective and spy; Indian scout and courier; U.S. deputy marshal; county sheriff; and town marshal. Wild Bill himself hated his desperado reputation, and he may well have regretted his famous alias, though it had been fastened upon him during the Civil War and he had no reason to feel ashamed of it.

The real Hickok, however, was in complete contrast to his newspaper-inspired desperado image. Rather, he was gentlemanly, courteous, soft-spoken and graceful in manner, yet left no one in any doubt that he would not “be put upon.” Further, if threatened would meet violence with violence. Wild Bill could be generous to a fault and, though slow to anger, would willingly defend a friend or the fearful if they were under threat. When angered, however, he became an implacable enemy and sought out and faced down those who insulted or challenged him.

It could be argued that Wild Bill Hickok’s alleged exploits as a city marshal or as acting county sheriff inspired the image of the lone man who, thanks to novels and the movies, walked tall and tamed cow towns, mining camps and indeed any other Western habitat where law and order was in short supply. This is nonsense: In reality, it took more than one man to clean up, civilize, or enforce and uphold the law, and city councils hired deputies to assist the marshal.

Colonel George Custer once opined that Hickok was both courageous and able to control others by threatening to settle disputes personally if they refused to back off reflected contemporary opinion. Old-timers in such places as Hays City and Abilene recalled that his presence did much to keep the violence down. In the latter Kansas cow town, the cry “Wild Bill is on the street!” is said to have curtailed many a drunken brawl–or aided a harassed mother anxious to persuade an unruly child to do as he was told!

The foregoing opinion was shared by citizens in Kansas who were either the victims of, or feared, drunken desperadoes or the murderous Texas cowboys in their midst. For many knew that once Hickok assumed his position of authority, ordinary folk felt a sense of security. He never tried or succeeded in eradicating lawlessness, but he helped control it. Indeed, on November 25, 1871, the Topeka Daily Commonwealth, in a feature devoted to Wild Bill’s bloodless head-on clash with some roughs from a train (which was copied verbatim by the Abilene Chronicle on the 30th), stated that the citizens of the state should thank him for “the safety of life and property at Abilene, which has been secured, more through his daring than any other agency.” A Leavenworth paper, following his death, added that his memory would be cherished by those whose peace and security he had sought to preserve.

In appearance at least, Hickok matched his myth. He was a broad-shouldered, deep-chested, narrow-waisted fellow, over six feet tall, with broad features, high cheekbones and forehead, firm chin and aquiline nose. His sensuous-looking mouth was surmounted by a straw-colored moustache, and his auburn hair was worn shoulder length, Plains style. But it was his blue-gray eyes that dominated his features. Normally friendly and expressive, his eyes, old-timers recalled, became hypnotically cold and bored into one when he was angry. Around his waist was a belt that held two ivory-handled Colt Navy revolvers, butts forward, in open-top holsters. Worn in this fashion, his six-shooters could be drawn underhand and spun forward for the Plains or reverse draw, or for a cross-body draw. Either way, the weapons were readily and easily available.

Some of his alleged gun-handling feats have been duplicated by modern gun experts. Although tests carried out during the 1850s had proved that Colt’s Model 1851 Navy revolver was accurate in the hands of an expert at 200 yards, Wild Bill, like most of his contemporaries, was more concerned with its accuracy and reliability at ten or twenty feet. As the anonymous writer for the Tribune and others have pointed out, Hickok’s ability to get a pistol or pistols into action ‘as quick as thought’ furthers the awe-inspiring image of a pistoleer who had no equal in the Wild West.

We will probably never know how Wild Bill really felt about gun fighting. Old-timers recalled his bravery under fire, or deadly purpose when he drew and fired at another man who was as intent on killing him. Buffalo Bill Cody, in one of his last interviews, said that Hickok cocked his pistols as he drew–which gave him a split-second advantage–and was always “cool, kinda’ cheerful, almost, about it. And he never killed a man unless that man was trying to kill him.”

Wild Bill left it to his reputation to deter most would-be rivals, while the legend builders eagerly spread the word. Even so, it is doubtful that even they realized how much Hickok’s murder at the hands of the back-shooting coward Jack McCall in a Deadwood saloon in August 1876 would immortalize Wild Bill Hickok as a Western legend.

James Butler “Wild Bill” Hickock