BILL’S DUEL AT SPRINGFIELD.
In the latter part of 1865, Wild Bill went to Springfield, Missouri, where he remained some time. It was while at this place that he fought a duel with Dave Tutt in the public square, and, as usual, killed his man, and came out of the encounter scathless The particulars of this affair are as follows: Springfield became a meeting place, after the war, of Confederates and Union men. Both sides recruited their forces from this section, and though the war had ended, many of the animosities then engendered still remained. Another peculiarity of the place consisted in the excess of border ruffianism, which made the town notorious. Murders had been so frequent in that section that the value of a life could scarcely be computed for its smallness. Among the rowdies was one Dave Tutt, a man of terrible passion, strong revenge, and one withal who had his private graveyard. He and Bill had met before; in fact, had shared the smiles of the same woman, a few years previous; but Bill had won “in a square court,” and Dave was anxious to meet Bill with pistols to settle the point finally. Some months passed while the two were in Springfield before any opportunity was presented for Dave to introduce a row, and when it came it was of Dave’s own manufacture. It is claimed that Bill killed a particular friend of Dave’s some years before, but of the truth of this we have no proof. One of the strong points of difference between the men consisted in the fact that Bill had been a Union scout and spy, and Dave had performed a similar duty for the Confederates.
Springfield was a great place for gamblers, and Bill and Dave belonged to the profession. One night, the two met in a saloon on the north side of the square, and Dave proposed a game with Bill, which, not being agreeable, Dave offered to stake a friend to play Bill. Thus the game was started. When Bill sat down to the game he drew out his heavy gold watch and laid it on the table, remarking that he intended to quit the game promptly at 12 o’clock. After nearly two hours playing he had won two hundred dollars, the greater part of which had come from Dave as a loan to his friend. Having broke the friend and Dave also, the latter remarked, “Bill, you’ve got money now, so pay me that forty dollars you’ve been owing me so long.”
“All right,” replied Bill, “there’s your money,” and thereupon passed the forty dollars to Dave.
“Now,” remarked Dave, further, “I want that thirty-five dollars I won off you Friday night.”
Bill’s reply was very courteous: “Beg your pardon, Dave, it was only twenty-five dollars; I put the amount down in my memorandum-book at the time.”
Receiving this mild reply, Dave reached across the table and took Bill’s watch, with the remark, “You’ll never get this watch until you pay me that thirty-five dollars.”
This threw Bill into a violent passion, although he restrained himself. Rising from his chair and looking piercingly into Dave’s eyes, he said: “I am anxious to avoid a row in this gentleman’s house. You had better put that watch back on the table.”
Dave returned an ugly look, and walked out of the room with the watch.
It was the only time, perhaps, in Bill’s life, that he permitted himself to be thus bullied. Everyone who knew him thought he had lost his pluck. It was indeed a seven days’ wonder with the people.
Dave kept the watch two days, during which time Bill remained in his room closely, revolving in his mind whether he should add another to his already long list of victims, or stop there and begin a life which flows in a more peaceful current. But he was not permitted to think and resolve without the advice of his friends. Almost every hour one or more of them would come to him with a new story about Dave’s boasts and intentions.
On the morning of the third day after the row, Dave sent word to Bill that he intended “to carry the watch across the square at noon, and to call the hour from Wild Bill’s watch.” Bill sent back the following reply: “Dave Tutt will not carry my watch across the square to-day unless dead men can walk.”
This reply satisfied everybody that there was going to be a death fight. Accordingly, shortly before noon, an immense crowd had assembled on the public square to see the duel.
At five minutes to twelve Wild Bill made his appearance on one side of the square opposite the crowd, where he could command a view of Tutt and his many friends, nearly all of whom were standing with their revolvers in their hands.
“Are you Satisfied.”
Just before twelve Dave stepped out from the crowd and started across the square. When he had proceeded a few steps and placed himself opposite to Bill, he drew his pistol; there was a report as of a single discharge, and Dave Tutt fell dead with a bullet through his heart. The moment Bill discharged his pistol—both pistols having been fired at the same instant—without taking note of the result of his shot, he turned on the crowd with his pistol leveled, and asked if they were satisfied; twenty or more blanched faces said they were, and pronounced the fight a square one. Bill expected to have to kill more than one man that day, but none of Dave’s friends considered it policy to appeal the result.
Bill was arrested, but at the preliminary examination he was discharged on the ground of self-defense. The verdict may not have been in accordance with the well defined principles of criminal jurisprudence, but it was sufficient, for all who know the circumstances believe that Tutt got his deserts.