The Men That Tamed the Cowtowns
The era following the Civil War witnessed a unique chapter in American history: the rise of the cowtowns. These settlements, born from the convergence of the Texas longhorn cattle drives and the burgeoning Northern markets, possessed a rugged charm that rivaled the romanticism of French chivalry. Names like Abilene, Dodge City, Ellsworth, Hays City, and Newton resonated with the spirit of adventure, becoming synonymous with the wild and untamed West. These Kansas towns served as crucial clearinghouses for Western cattle, mirroring the daily dramas and armed conflicts found in mining boomtowns like Deadwood, Tombstone, and Leadville.
The streets of these cowtowns pulsed with the energy of daring individuals, a melting pot of hardened adventurers. Abilene, particularly during its peak prosperity, boasted a population of only a few hundred permanent residents, but the ceaseless flow of the cattle trail transformed it into a vibrant hub of activity. Forty saloons operated day and night, interspersed with dance halls and gambling establishments. During the long seasons when cattle herds churned through the dusty trails, cowboys on horseback dominated the streets. The sounds of tinny pianos emanating from dance halls mingled with the frequent reports of pistol fire from saloons and gambling dens. Every man carried a firearm, and cartridge belts hung heavy with the potential for violence. This chaotic scene was further populated by professional gamblers, often operating under assumed identities, wealthy cattle buyers from Chicago and other distant markets, and "painted women" surrounded by a motley crew of opportunists. These diverse characters congregated in saloons with colorful names like the Alamo, the Elkhorn, the Bull’s Head, and the Pearl, indulging in nightly revelry punctuated by gunfire.
Days in Abilene were a mix of hard labor and debauchery. The main hotel, a fragile structure called the Drovers’ Cottage, was managed by Colonel I. W. Gore, a jovial figure well-acquainted with cattle owners and cowboys from Texas and the Indian Territory. The stockyards, located east of the Drovers’ Cottage, bustled with activity as vast herds of cattle awaited their turn to be shipped east by rail. Cowboys, yelling and whooping, darted through the herds on their ponies, separating groups of cattle for weighing. The air filled with the sounds of lariats, the bellows of cattle, and the ever-present dust. Woe betide anyone who dared enter this chaos on foot; the Texas steers were quick to attack unfamiliar objects, tearing them apart with their sharp horns and hooves. For years, the trail funneled cattle and colorful characters into Abilene and its rival cowtowns, creating a rich tapestry of stories that would fuel literature for generations. The task of maintaining order in these unruly towns fell to a special breed of men.
When the citizens of Abilene sought to establish order, their initial attempts were met with resistance. Several individuals who accepted the marshal’s badge quickly relinquished their authority. Even a respected peace officer from St. Louis declined the position after assessing the situation. Eventually, the marshal’s office was offered to Thomas J. Smith of Kit Carson, Colorado, a man with a reputation for courage and integrity. Smith, a broad-shouldered, soft-spoken individual, had earned respect as marshal of Kit Carson, a lawless "end town" at the terminus of the Kansas Pacific Railroad. He fearlessly navigated the treacherous environment, enforcing the law and commanding respect. However, news of Smith’s appointment as marshal of Abilene sparked defiance along the cattle trail. Placards demanding the surrender of firearms within the town limits were riddled with bullet holes, and confrontations with the new marshal became inevitable. A group of cowboys, led by a burly Texan, gathered defiantly in front of a saloon, brandishing their revolvers.
"You’ll have to give up your guns, boys," Smith calmly stated, approaching the leader.
The Texan responded with a profane outburst, making the telltale motion of drawing his weapon. But Smith was too quick. His fist shot forward, striking the cowboy squarely on the jaw and sending him crashing to the ground. Tom Smith’s boxing skills, uncommon among cowboys, proved to be a decisive advantage. Had he reached for his gun, the outcome might have been different. Instead, the cowboys were stunned by the swiftness of the blow and the sudden defeat of their champion. Smith disarmed the prostrate Texan, then calmly instructed the remaining cowboys to deposit their weapons at a designated location. To everyone’s surprise, they complied. For the first time in its history, Abilene was filled with unarmed men. The law, personified by the brave Tom Smith, had prevailed, signaling a shift in the balance of power in the West.
For eleven months, Smith maintained order in Abilene. He faced challenges from cowboys unfamiliar with his reputation, but he consistently relied on his boxing skills rather than resorting to gunfights. Smith reportedly used his revolver only once during his tenure, when he was ambushed by gamblers who saw him as a threat to their illicit operations. The gamblers lured Smith into a room and attempted to assassinate him under the cover of darkness. However, Smith anticipated the trap and unleashed his own gunfire, leaving three assailants wounded and the rest in flight. Enraged by the attempt on his life, Smith confronted the mayor of Abilene, declaring his intention to pursue the conspirators. The ringleaders, however, had already fled the town.
Smith’s life was tragically cut short due to the cowardice of a deputy. When a rancher named McConnell murdered a neighbor and barricaded himself in his cabin, Smith and a deputy went to confront him. Smith forced the door open, but McConnell’s accomplice, Miles, prevented the deputy from assisting. A shot rang out from inside the cabin, and the deputy fled, falsely reporting that Smith had been shot. A witness later revealed that Smith had brought McConnell to the cabin door, where Miles attacked the marshal with a rifle, knocking him to the ground. Miles and McConnell then dragged Smith away from the doorway and brutally murdered him with an ax. The murderers were apprehended and brought to Abilene. Thanks to the respect for law and order that Smith had instilled, there was no lynching. However, the lenient sentences handed down to the killers were a stark contrast to the magnitude of their crime.
Tom Smith’s successor as marshal of Abilene was Wild Bill Hickok, a man who couldn’t have been more different. Hickok, described as a "child of nature" by a young correspondent named Henry M. Stanley, was a flamboyant figure who seemed more suited for the stage than the streets of a cowtown. With his long, flowing hair and striking appearance, Hickok was a master of gunplay. However, his reputation as a revolver expert attracted numerous challengers eager to test his skills. Hickok’s guns rarely remained silent for long. He was constantly embroiled in quarrels, and assassination attempts were commonplace.
In late 1871, as a group of Texans prepared to return home after selling their cattle, a gambler named Phil Coe, known for his violent tendencies, made an attempt on Hickok’s life. Coe, fueled by alcohol and a desire to prove his courage, fired at Hickok as the marshal leaned against a table in a saloon. Coe’s shot missed its mark, and Hickok responded instantly, fatally wounding Coe. In the chaos that followed, Hickok mistakenly shot and killed Mike McWilliams, a deputy marshal and one of his closest friends. Hickok was devastated by the accidental killing, and his remorse was evident to all. Despite the incident, the people of Abilene allowed him to continue as marshal.
Coe lingered for several days before succumbing to his wounds, cursing Hickok on his deathbed. Coe’s mother offered a $10,000 reward for Hickok’s head, prompting the marshal to carry a sawed-off shotgun for added protection. Hickok remained vigilant, aware that men from Texas were seeking to collect the reward. On one occasion, Hickok encountered two men following him on a train. He confronted them in Topeka, Kansas, brandishing his shotgun and ordering them to return to the train. The men, intimidated by Hickok’s resolve, complied.
Wild Bill Hickok played a significant role in maintaining order in Abilene during his tenure. Perhaps his most notable achievement was thwarting a planned robbery of the Abilene fair by the James Gang. When Jesse James and his gang arrived at the fairgrounds, they were met by Hickok, who stood defiantly at the gate, his revolvers displayed. The sight of the legendary marshal was enough to deter the gang, who quickly retreated without attempting to rob the fair.
Hickok also demonstrated diplomatic skills when the Abilene council debated increasing saloon license fees. When one alderman refused to attend the meeting, creating a tie vote, Hickok took matters into his own hands. He forced his way into the alderman’s office, carried him to the council chamber, and ensured that he cast his vote in favor of the increased fees.
As the cattle trade shifted away from Abilene, Hickok found his marshal’s duties less challenging. He resigned and moved to Deadwood, South Dakota, a bustling mining town known for its lawlessness. While playing cards in Deadwood, Hickok made the fatal mistake of sitting with his back to a door. Jack McCall crept through the door and shot Hickok in the back, killing him instantly. Despite the circumstances of his death, Deadwood took pride in the fact that McCall was brought to justice and legally hanged for his crime.
Abilene’s reign as a prominent cowtown waned in 1872, with other towns like Newton, Wichita, Ellsworth, and Dodge City vying for its position. Newton, lacking a strong marshal, experienced a night of intense violence that resulted in eleven deaths. But it was Dodge City that emerged as Abilene’s true rival, solidifying its reputation as a wild and dangerous frontier town. Dodge City perfected the practice of "setting a killer to kill a killer," hiring gunfighters as law enforcement officers. Men like Bat Masterson and his brother Ed, Wyatt Earp, Luke Short, Charley Bassett, Pat Shugrue, George Goodell, Ben Daniels, Ben Thompson, Mayor A. B. Webster, "Mysterious" Dave Mather, Neal Brown, and W. H. Harris became legendary figures in the West.
The term "gunfighter" is often misunderstood. It does not necessarily refer to a bloodthirsty "bad man" eager to kill indiscriminately. Many of Dodge City’s gunfighters earned their reputations while upholding law and order. Ed Masterson, the young and dedicated sheriff, was killed while disarming cowboys entering a dance hall. His brother, Bat, avenged his death by shooting down the fleeing cowboys. Bat then became sheriff and maintained order with the same courage as his brother. Mayor A. B. Webster, an ordinary citizen who stepped up to lead when the revolver was the only recognized authority, even disarmed Bat Masterson when he returned to Dodge with armed companions to confront individuals who had wronged his brother James.
Ben Thompson, a skilled gunfighter who served as marshal of Dodge City, later became marshal of San Antonio, Texas. He was tragically killed in a theater ambush, a dramatic end befitting his legendary status. Andy Adams, author of The Log of a Cowboy, described Thompson as a chivalrous gentleman who was well-liked and committed to law and order. Pat Shugrue, who served two terms as sheriff of Ford County, resembled Tom Smith of Abilene in his ability to command respect without frequently resorting to violence. When the gambling element attempted to defeat Shugrue’s re-election, a group of gunfighters, including Luke Short, W. H. Harris, Neal Brown, Wyatt Earp, Charley Bassett, and Frank McLean, led by Bat Masterson, arrived at the polls to ensure a fair election. Their presence had a magical effect, deterring any unfair tactics and securing Shugrue’s victory.
Dodge City’s cemetery, known as Boot Hill, was a testament to the town’s violent past. From Boot Hill, one could see the town’s main street, lined with saloons, dance halls, and gambling houses, where the same coarse pleasures and grim tragedies that had defined Abilene played out. Law enforcement officials relied on their weapons to enforce the law among the lawless and unregenerate.
Today, the streets of Abilene and Dodge City rarely echo with the sound of horses’ hooves. These once-wild cowtowns have transformed into peaceful cities, surrounded by fertile ranches. While law enforcement tactics have changed, the memory of Tom Smith and the other brave officers who brought order to the frontier will forever endure. The West can never forget its debt to those who tamed the cowtowns and established the rule of law in the face of lawlessness. The legacy of The Men That Tamed the Cowtowns continues to resonate, reminding us of the courage and determination required to build civilization in the face of adversity. The stories of The Men That Tamed the Cowtowns are more than just tales of gunfights and violence; they are stories of resilience, justice, and the enduring spirit of the American West. Exploring the lives and deeds of The Men That Tamed the Cowtowns offers a glimpse into a pivotal era in American history, revealing the complexities and contradictions of the frontier experience. Remembering The Men That Tamed the Cowtowns is essential for understanding the evolution of law and order in the American West and the lasting impact of their actions on shaping the region’s identity.