Doc Holliday as Told by Bat Masterson
By W.R. (Bat) Masterson in 1907
John Henry "Doc" Holliday, a name synonymous with the rugged and often brutal landscape of the American West, remains an enigmatic figure, shrouded in legend and fueled by tales of gunfights and a volatile temperament. While he may not have achieved the status of a national hero, deserving of a statue in some metaphorical Hall of Fame, Doc Holliday undoubtedly carved out a niche for himself as one of the most memorable and complex characters of his time. This is the story of Doc Holliday, as I, Bat Masterson, knew him.
Born into a respectable and prominent family in Georgia, Holliday received a formal education, culminating in a degree in dentistry from a reputable medical college. However, the quiet respectability of a dental practice proved to be a poor fit for a man of his disposition. It seems the allure of the frontier, with its inherent dangers and opportunities for both fortune and infamy, proved too strong to resist. He abandoned his profession relatively soon after earning his diploma, trading the dentist’s chair for the gambler’s table and the ever-present threat of violence.
Holliday possessed a character marked by a quick temper and a penchant for confrontation. Under the influence of alcohol, these traits were amplified, transforming him into a truly dangerous individual. He was reminiscent of the boastful Missourian, fueled by moonshine, who declared himself a "bad man when he was drinking, and managed to keep pretty full all the time." This parallel illustrates a key aspect of Doc Holliday’s persona: a volatile nature often exacerbated by drink.
Physically, Holliday was not an imposing figure. He was a slender man, lacking the brute strength to win a fistfight against a healthy young man. He was acutely aware of his physical limitations, which perhaps contributed to his readiness to resort to weapons in moments of conflict. This awareness, coupled with his fiery temper and fondness for both drinking and quarreling, made him an unpopular figure among those who did not fear him. He lacked the natural leadership qualities exhibited by figures like H. P. Myton, Wyatt Earp, and Billy Tilghman, men who commanded respect and loyalty. Holliday, on the other hand, seemed perpetually embroiled in trouble, constantly teetering on the brink of another violent episode. Yet, surprisingly, he was often more in the right than in the wrong, a rare occurrence for a man who so frequently found himself in precarious situations.
The event that triggered Holliday’s departure from his home state was a shocking incident involving the indiscriminate shooting of several Black individuals in his small Georgia town. The incident stemmed from a dispute over a swimming hole in a nearby river. White boys and Black boys had traditionally shared the swimming spot, but the white boys eventually decided to exclude the Black boys, ordering them to find an alternative location further downstream. The Black boys refused to comply, asserting their right to the existing swimming hole.
This act of defiance, deemed unacceptable in the racially charged atmosphere of the post-Civil War South, ignited a conflict. One Sunday afternoon, as a large group of Black individuals were swimming in the disputed area, Holliday arrived on the riverbank armed with a double-barreled shotgun. He ordered them to leave the river immediately. As the swimmers scrambled to escape, Holliday unleashed both barrels of his shotgun, killing two and wounding several others.
The shooting was, by any reasonable standard, an act of unjustified violence, as the Black individuals were already fleeing when they were shot. However, the local authorities took no action against Holliday. He later attempted to justify his actions by claiming that the "n***ers" needed to be disciplined and that he believed a shotgun was the most effective means of achieving this. Nevertheless, his family, recognizing the gravity of the situation and the potential for further repercussions, urged him to leave the area and allow the incident to fade from public memory.
Holliday heeded their advice and ventured west, eventually arriving in Dallas, Texas, in the early 1870s. He established a dental practice, hanging a sign that proudly proclaimed "J. H. Holliday, Dentist." However, Dallas at the time was a quintessential frontier town, characterized by lawlessness and a thriving gambling culture. A stranger could find almost anything in Dallas, from a simple game of chance to a deadly confrontation, at any time of day or night, a reality that perfectly suited Holliday’s proclivities.
Gambling was the dominant and most lucrative industry in Dallas, enjoying a level of social acceptance that was uncommon in more settled areas. Holliday, with his inherent fondness for games of chance, quickly became immersed in this environment. Soon, those seeking his dental services were more likely to find him at a card table in a nearby gambling establishment than in his office. While Holliday never openly boasted about the shooting in Georgia, his new acquaintances in Texas were aware of his violent past. In that era, having killed someone, even a Black person, elevated a man’s status in the eyes of many. This notoriety granted Holliday immediate recognition within Dallas’s higher social circles.
If there was one thing Holliday relished even more than a poker game, it was conflict. And Dallas, being a town rife with conflict, provided him with ample opportunities to indulge this desire. However, his penchant for violence soon led to another incident, this time involving a white man of some local standing. The details of the dispute are unclear, but the outcome was the same: Holliday was forced to flee once again to avoid legal consequences.
His travels led him to Jacksboro, a small, isolated town located near Fort Richardson Military Reservation on the northwestern frontier of Texas. Civilization there was still in its nascent stages. By this time, Holliday had become acutely aware of the reputation of the frontier’s notorious killers and fancied himself capable of joining their ranks. He was not in Jacksboro long before he found himself embroiled in yet another altercation, this time with a soldier stationed at the fort who had been granted leave to visit the town.
The dispute arose during a card game in which the soldier accused Holliday of cheating him. The ensuing confrontation forced the Georgian to once again embark on a hasty departure. Knowing that the soldiers from the fort would likely seek retribution for the death of their comrade, Holliday wasted no time in leaving town. He mounted a Texas cayuse and made his escape before news of the incident reached the fort. His journey this time was particularly long and perilous.
The journey from Jacksboro to Denver, Colorado, spanned approximately 800 miles, much of it through the treacherous Texas Panhandle and No Man’s Land. This region was infested with hostile Native Americans and renegade Mexicans from New Mexico, making the journey exceptionally dangerous. However, the resilient doctor proved equal to the challenge, reaching Denver unscathed and with his appetite for conflict undiminished.
This occurred in the summer of 1876. While Denver was a larger and more significant city than Dallas, its local government operated under similar principles. Denver tolerated a wide range of activities, and Holliday quickly determined that the change of scenery had not diminished his opportunities for excitement. The Rocky Mountain town appealed to him, and, determined to solidify his reputation as a dangerous man, he wasted no time in seeking out trouble.
Denver strictly enforced its ordinance against carrying firearms. Holliday, unusually cautious, complied by setting aside his pistols. However, he promptly acquired a menacing-looking knife. Thus armed, he quickly engaged in a violent altercation, slashing the face and neck of one Bud Ryan, a seemingly quiet and gentlemanly sportsman, in a brutal attack. Bud Ryan, who survived the encounter, still bears the scars of his encounter with Holliday to this day. Once again, the doctor was compelled to flee the scene of his crime, this time heading for Dodge City, Kansas. It was in Dodge City that I, Bat Masterson, first met him, although I had already heard tales of his exploits in Texas.
He was a slender man, with a sallow complexion, standing approximately five feet ten inches tall and weighing around 130 pounds. His eyes were a pale blue, and his mustache was thin and sandy-colored. Dodge City, like Dallas and Denver, was a rough and tumble frontier town, and Holliday seemed to find it to his liking. It was evident that he was not in good health, as his appearance and constant coughing indicated. During his year-long stay in Dodge City, he managed to avoid any serious conflicts and, despite being perceived as somewhat of a grouch, he was not disliked by those who knew him. It was during this time that he formed a lasting friendship with Wyatt Earp.
From Dodge City, he traveled to Trinidad, Colorado, where, within a week of his arrival, he shot and seriously wounded a young sportsman named Kid Colton over a minor disagreement. This incident forced him to once again flee, this time making his way to Las Vegas, New Mexico, which was experiencing a boom due to the arrival of the Santa Fe Railroad. Holliday spent some time in Las Vegas, working as a gambler in a saloon. He eventually became embroiled in a quarrel with a local named Mike Gordon, whom he challenged to step outside. As soon as Gordon exited the saloon, Holliday shot him dead. To escape the authorities pursuing him, Holliday embarked on another perilous journey, riding horseback across approximately five hundred miles of rugged terrain from Las Vegas to Dodge City.
He safely reached Dodge City and remained there until Wyatt Earp took him to Arizona in his covered wagon in the fall of 1880. He continued to avoid quarrels and shootings while in Dodge City, leading some to believe that much of his previous trouble had been thrust upon him. However, I believe that he actively sought out most of the conflicts in which he was involved. Doc Holliday was utterly devoted to Wyatt Earp and was always willing to risk his life to defend any cause in which Wyatt was invested. He assisted the Earp brothers in their infamous street fight in Tombstone against the Clanton and McLaury brothers, which resulted in the deaths of the McLaury brothers and Billy Clanton.
It was Doc Holliday, along with Wyatt Earp, who intercepted and killed Frank Stillwell at the railroad station in Tucson for his alleged involvement in the murder of Morgan Earp in Tombstone. He was also by Wyatt’s side when he killed Curly Bill Brocius at Whetstone Springs outside of Tombstone. Doc Holliday’s loyalty to Wyatt Earp was unwavering and reminiscent of the legendary friendship between Damon and Pythias.
After Wyatt and his associates had eliminated most of their enemies in Arizona, Holliday returned to Denver, where he was arrested on an order from Arizona authorities, charged with aiding in the killing of Frank Stillwell. This occurred in the spring of 1882. I was in Denver at the time and managed to secure a meeting with Governor Pitkin, who, after hearing my account of the matter, refused to honor Arizona’s request for Holliday’s extradition. I then filed a complaint against Holliday, accusing him of highway robbery in Pueblo, Colorado, and had him transferred from Denver to Pueblo, where he was released on a nominal bond. The highway robbery charge was a ruse intended to prevent Arizona authorities from taking him out of the state after Governor Pitkin left office, a fact unknown to the Colorado authorities at the time. Holliday consistently managed to postpone his trial and would be released again after furnishing a new bond.
When he passed away in Glenwood Springs a few years later, he was still under bond to answer the charge of highway robbery that I had arranged for someone to file against him. Doc Holliday, whose given name was John H. Holliday, resided in three states and two territories during his tumultuous life, including Texas, Colorado, and Kansas, as well as the territories of New Mexico and Arizona. In addition to the shooting of the Black individuals in his hometown, he shot a man in Dallas, Texas, and killed another in Jacksboro. He brutally stabbed Bud Ryan in Denver, Colorado, and shot another man in Trinidad, also in Colorado. He killed a man in Las Vegas, New Mexico, and was directly involved in several killings in Arizona.
Kansas stands out as the only state in which he resided without killing or physically harming anyone. The extent to which his actions were justified remains open to debate. I have always believed that alcohol played a significant role in Holliday’s troubles and held him accountable for his actions. While I provided him with assistance on multiple occasions, it was not due to any particular fondness for him but rather out of my friendship with Wyatt Earp, who held him in high regard.
Holliday had few genuine friends in the West. He was a selfish individual with a perverse nature, traits that did not endear him to others in the rough and tumble frontier society.
Bat Masterson, 1907. Compiled by Kathy Weiser/Legends of America, updated November 2019.
About the Author and Notes:
While W.B. "Bat" Masterson is widely recognized as a gunfighter and a friend of notable figures such as Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, and Luke Short, it is less known that he was also a writer. Following his adventures in the American West, he served as a U.S. Marshal in New York State. By 1891, however, he was working as a sports editor for a New York City newspaper. In 1907 and 1908, he penned a series of articles for the short-lived Boston magazine, Human Life. This account of Doc Holliday was one of those articles. Masterson died in 1921 from a heart attack.
The article that appears on these pages is not verbatim, as it has been very briefly edited, primarily for spelling and grammatical corrections.