"Buffalo Bill" from Prairie to Palace: An Authentic History of the Wild West

by John M. Burke

BILL CODY.

You bet I know him, pardner, he ain’t no circus fraud,
He’s Western born and Western bred, if he has been late abroad.
I knew him in the days way back, beyond Missouri’s flow,
When the country round was nothing but a huge Wild Western Show;
When the Injuns were as thick as fleas, and the man who ventured through
The sandhills of Nebraska had to fight the hostile Sioux.
These were hot times, I tell you; and we all remember still
The days when Cody was a scout, and all the men knew Bill.

I knew him first in Kansas in the days of ’68,
When the Cheyennes and Arapahoes were wiping from the slate
Old scores against the settlers, and when men who wore the blue,
With shoulder-straps and way-up rank, were glad to be helped through
By a bearer of dispatches, who knew each vale and hill
From Dakota down to Texas, and his other name was Bill.

I mind me too of ’79, the time when Cody took
His scouts upon the Rosebud, along with General Crook;
When Custer’s Seventh rode to their death for lack of some such aid
To tell them that the sneaking Sioux knew how to ambuscade.
I saw Bill’s fight with Yellow Hand, you bet it was a “mill”;
He downed him well at thirty yards, and all the men cheered Bill.

They tell me that the women folk now take his word as laws;
In them days laws were mighty skerce, and hardly passed with squaws;
But many a hardy settler’s wife and daughter used to rest
More quietly because they knew of Cody’s dauntless breast;
Because they felt, from Laramie way down to old Fort Sill,
Bill Cody was a trusted scout, and all their men knew Bill.

I haven’t seen him much of late; how does he bear his years?
They says he’s making ducats now, from shows and not from “steers”;
He used to be a judge of “horns,” when poured in a tin cup,
And left the wine to tenderfeet, and men who felt “way up”;
Perhaps he cracks a bottle now, perhaps he’s had his fill;
Who cares, Bill Cody was a scout, and all the world knows Bill.

To see him in his trimmins, he can’t hardly look the same,
With laundered shirt and diamonds, as if “he run a game.”
He didn’t wear biled linen then, or flash up diamond rings;
The royalties he dreamed of then were only pasteboard kings;
But those who sat behind the queens were apt to get their fill,
In the days when Cody was a scout, and all the men knew Bill.

William E. Annin, Omaha Bee.

Washington, D. C., February 28, 1891.

BUFFALO CHIPS, THE SCOUT, TO BUFFALO BILL.

[The following verses on the life and death of poor old Buffalo Chips are founded entirely on facts. His death occurred on September 8, 1876, at Slim Buttes. He was within three feet of me when he fell, uttering the words credited to him below.—Capt. Jack Crawford, Poet Scout.]

The evenin’ sun war settin’, droppin’ slowly in the west,
An’ the soldiers, tired an’ tuckered, in the camp would find that rest
Which the settin’ sun would bring ’em, for they’d marched since break o’ day,
Not a bite to eat ’cept horses as war killed upon the way.
For ye see our beans an’ crackers an’ our pork were outen sight,
An’ the boys expected rashuns when they struck our camp that night;
For a little hand had started for to bring some cattle on,
An’ they struck an Indian village, which they captured just at dawn.

Wall, I were with that party when we captured them ar’ Sioux,
An’ we quickly sent a courier to tell old Crook the news.
Old Crook! I should say gen’l, cos he war with the boys,
Shared his only hard-tack, our sorrows, and our joys;
An’ thar is one thing sartin—he never put on style;
He’d greet the scout or soldier with a social kinder smile.
An’ that’s the kind o’ soldier as the prairy likes to get,
An’ every man would trump Death’s ace for Crook or Miles, you bet.

But I’m kinder off the racket, cos these gener’ls get enough
O’ praise ’ithout my chippin’, so I’ll let up on that puff;
Fer I want to tell a story ’bout a mate of mine as fell,
Cos I loved the honest fellar, and he did his dooty well.
Buffalo Chips we call’d him, but his other name war White;
I’ll tell ye how he got that name, an’ reckon I am right.
You see a lot of big-bugs an’ officers came out
One time to hunt the buffaler an’ fish fer speckled trout.

Wall, little Phil, ye’ve heerd on him, a dainty little cuss
As rode his charger twenty miles to stop a little muss;
Well, Phil he said ter Johnathin, whose other name war White,
“You go an’ find them buffaler, an’ see you get ’em right.”
So White he went an’ found ’em, an’ he found ’em sech a band
As he sed would set ’em crazy, an’ little Phil looked bland;
But when the outfit halted, one bull was all war there.
Then Phil he call him “Buffalo Chips,” an’ swore a little swear.

Wall, White he kinder liked it, cos the gener’l called him Chips,
An’ he us’ter wear two shooters in a belt above his hips.
Then he said, “Now, look ye, gener’l, since ye’ve called me that ar’ name,
Jist around them little sandhills is yer dog-gone pesky game!”
But when the hunt war over, an’ the table spread for lunch,
The gener’l called for glasses, an’ wanted his in punch;
An’ when the punch was punished, the gener’l smacked his lips,
While squar’ upon the table sot a dish o’ buffalo chips.

The gener’l looked confounded, an’ he also looked for White,
But Johnathin he reckon’d it war better he should lite.
So he skinned across the prairy, cos ye see he didn’t mind
A chippin’ any longer while the gener’l saw the blind;
Fer the gener’l would a raised him, if he’d jist held up his hand,
But he thought he wouldn’t see him, cos he didn’t hev the sand;
An’ he rode as fast—aye, faster—than the gener’l did that day,
Like lightin’ down from Winchester some twenty miles away.

Wall, White he had no cabin, an’ no home to call his own,
So Buffaler Bill he took him an’ shared with him his home.
An’ how he loved Bill Cody! By gosh! it war a sight
Ter see him watch his shadder an’ foller him at night;
Cos Bill war kinder hated by a cussed gang o’ thieves,
As carried pistols in thar belts, an’ bowies in thar sleeves.
An’ Chips he never left him, for fear he’d get a pill;
Nor would he think it mighty hard to die for Buffalo Bill.

We us’ter mess together, that ar’ Chips an’ Bill an’ me,
An’ ye oughter watch his movements; it would do ye good ter see
How he us’ter cook them wittles, an’ gather lots o’ greens,
To mix up with the juicy pork an’ them unruly beans.
An’ one cold chilly mornin’ he bought a lot o’ corn,
An’ a little flask o’ likker, as cost fifty cents a horn.
Tho’ forty yards war nowhar, it was finished soon, ye bet;
But, friends, I promised some one, and I’m strong teetotal yet.

RATTLIN’ JOE’S PRAYER.

(By Capt. Jack Crawford.)

Jist pile on some more o’ them pine knots,
An’ squat yoursel’ down on this skin,
An’, Scotty, let up on yer growlin’—
The boys are all tired o’ yer chin.
Allegheny, jist pass round the bottle,
An’ give the lads all a square drink,
An’ as soon as yer settled I’ll tell ye
A yarn as ’ll please ye, I think.

’Twas eighteen hundred an’ sixty,
A day in the bright month o’ June,
When the angel o’ death from the diggin’s
Snatched “Monte Bill”—known as McCune.
Wal, Bill war a favorite among us,
In spite o’ the trade that he had,
Which war gamblin’; but—don’t you forget it—
He of’en made weary hearts glad.
An’, pards, while he lay in that coffin,
Which we hewed from the trunk o’ a tree,
His face war as calm as an angel’s,
An’ white as an angel’s could be.

An’ thar’s whar the trouble commenced, pards.
Thar war no gospel-sharps in the camps,
An’ Joe said, “We can’t drop him this way,
Without some directions or stamps.”
Then up spoke old Sandy McGregor,
“Look’ee yar, mates, I’m reg’lar dead stuck,
I can’t hold no hand at religion,
An’ I’m ’feared Bill’s gone out o’ luck.
If I knowed a darn thing about prayin’,
I’d chip in an’ say him a mass;
But I ain’t got no show in the layout,
I can’t beat the game, so I pass.”

Rattlin’ Joe war the next o’ the speakers,
An’ Joe war a friend o’ the dead;
The salt water stood in his peepers,
An’ these are the words as he said,
“Mates, ye know as I ain’t any Christian,
An’ I’ll gamble the Lord don’t know
That thar lives sich a rooster as I am;
But thar once war a time long ago
When I war a kid; I remember,
My old mother sent me to school,
To the little brown church every Sunday,
Whar they said I was dumb as a mule.
An’ I reckon I’ve nearly forgotten
Purty much all that I ever knew.
But still, if ye’ll drop to my racket,
I’ll show ye jist what I kin do.

“Now, I’ll show you my bible,” said Joseph,
“Jist hand me them cards off that rack;
I’ll convince that this are a bible,”
An’ he went to work shufflin’ the pack.
He spread out the cards on the table,
An’ begun kinder pious-like, “Pards,
If ye’ll jist cheese yer racket an’ listen,
I’ll show ye the pra’ar-book in cards.

“The ‘ace’; that reminds us of one God;
The ‘deuce’ of the Father an’ Son;
The ‘tray’ of the Father, an’ Son, Holy Ghost,
For ye see all them three are but one.
The ‘four-spot’ is Matthew, Mark, Luke, an’ John;
The ‘five-spot’ the virgins who trimmed
Their lamps while yet it was light of the day;
And the five foolish virgins who sinned.
The ‘six-spot,’ in six days the Lord made the world,
The sea, and the stars in the heaven;
He saw it war good w’at he made, then he said,
‘I’ll jist go the rest on the “seven.”’
The ‘eight-spot’ is Noah, his wife, an’ three sons,
An’ Noah’s three sons had their wives;
God loved the hull mob, so bid ’em emb-ark—
In the freshet he saved all their lives.
The ‘nine’ were the lepers of Biblical fame,
A repulsive and hideous squad.
The ‘ten’ are the holy commandments, which came
To us perishin’ creatures from God.
The ‘queen’ war of Sheba in old Bible times,
The ‘king’ represents old King Sol.
She brought in a hundred young folks, gals an’ boys,
To the king in his government hall.
They were all dressed alike, an’ she axed the old boy
(She’d put up his wisdom as bosh)
Which war boys an’ which gals. Old Sol said, ‘By Joe,
How dirty their hands! Make ’em wash!’
An’ then he showed Sheba the boys only washed
Their hands and a part o’ their wrists,
While the gals jist went up to their elbows in suds.
Sheba weakened an’ shook the king’s fists.
Now the ‘knave,’ that’s the devil, an’ God, if ye please,
Jist keep his hands off’n poor Bill.
An’ now, lads, jist drop on yer knees for a while
Till I draw, and perhaps I kin fill;
An’ havin’ no Bible, I’ll pray on the cards,
Fur I’ve showed ye they’re all on the squar’,
An’ I think God’ll cotton to all that I say,
If I’m only sincere in the pra’r.
Jist give him a corner, good Lord—not on stocks,
Fur I ain’t such a durned fool as that.
To ax ye fur anything worldly fur Bill,
Kase ye’d put me up then fur a flat.
I’m lost on the rules o’ yer game, but I’ll ax
Fur a seat fur him back o’ the throne,
And I’ll bet my hull stack thet the boy’ll behave
If yer angels jist lets him alone.
Thar’s nothin’ bad ’bout him unless he gets riled,
The boys’ll all back me in that;
But if any one treads on his corns, then you bet
He’ll fight at the drop o’ the hat.
Jist don’t let yer angels run over him, Lord;
Nor shut off all to once on his drink;
Break him in kinder gentle an’ mild on the start,
An’ he’ll give ye no trouble, I think.
An’ couldn’t ye give him a pack of old cards
To amuse himself once in a while?
But I warn ye right hyar not to bet on his game,
Or he’ll get right away with yer pile.
An’ now, Lord, I hope that ye’ve tuck it all in,
An’ listened to all thet I’ve said.
I know that my prayin’ is just a bit thin,
But I’ve done all I kin for the dead.
An’ I hope I hain’t troubled yer lordship too much,
So I’ll cheese it by axin’ again
Thet ye won’t let the ‘knave’ git his grip on poor Bill.
Thet’s all, Lord—yours truly—Amen.”

Thet’s Rattlin’ Joe’s prayer, old pardners,
An’—what! You all snorin’? Say, Lew—
By thunder! I’ve talked every rascal to sleep,
So I guess I hed best turn in, too.

BUFFALO BILL AND YELLOW HAND.

(By Hugh A. Wetmore, Editor People’s Press.)

You may talk ’bout duels requirin’ sand,
But the slickest I’ve seen in any land
Was Buffalo Bill’s with Yellow Hand.

Thar wa’n’t no seconds to split the pot,
No noospaper buncombe, none o’ the rot
Your citified, dudefied duels ’as got.

Custer was not long into his shroud
When a bunch o’ Cheyennes quit Red Cloud
To j’in the cranky Sittin’ Bull crowd.

It looked somewhat like a crazy freak,
But Merritt’s cavalry made a sneak
To head the reds at Big Bonnet Creek.

Bill an’ some soljers was on one side,
For which Bill was actin’ as chief an’ guide,
When he git this call from the copper-hide:

“I know ye, Long Hair,” yells Yellow Hand,
A-ridin’ out from his pesky band
(A reg’lar bluff o’ the Injun brand).

“You kill heap Injun, I kill heap white;
My people fear you by day or night;
Come, single-handed, an’ you me fight.”

“I’ll go ye!” quick as a thunder-clap
Says Bill, who jest didn’t care a rap;
“Stan’ by, an’ watch me an’ the varmint scrap.”

They was then ’bout fifty yards apart,
When without a hitch they made a start
Straight for each other, straight as a dart.

The plug which was rid by that Cheyenne
Was plugged by a slug from Bill’s rifle, an’
Bill’s hoss stumbled—now ’twas man to man!

Or man to devil, ’f you like that best.
But in them days, in the sure-enough West,
All stood as equals who stood the test.

They next at twenty steps blazed away,
An’ had they ben equal both had ben clay,
But Bill was best, an’ he win ther day.

It’s a good shot to hit a Injun’s heart,
For obvious reasons. Bill wa’n’t scart,
An’ found the center without a chart.

When they see Bill claim the tommyhawk
An’ feathers an’ beads wore by the gawk,
The other Injuns begin to squawk.

It all happened so dad-gasted quick,
The opposition must ’a’ felt sick;
But to my taste the duel was monstrous slick.

The other Injuns made for Bill,
But the soljers met ’em on the hill,
An’ convinced ’em they had best keep still.

When Yellow Hand, Senior, heared the news
He offered ponies ’f Bill’d let loose
Them trophies—but Bill he wa’n’t no goose.

With this remark I’ll close my letter:
“Thar’s nought a Injun can do—no matter
What—but a white man can do it better.”

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CHAPTER XXI.
FROM PRAIRIE TO PALACE.

In olden times, when a great leader of an “army with banners” was about to depart for a foreign country, bent on conquest, great was the outpouring of the people; loud sounded the drum and fife, and gay bunting flirted with the joyous breeze; salvos of artillery and great shouting rent the air, and songs were sung in honor of the mighty host decked in all the glittering panoply of war. All this in anticipation of the spoils of conquest to be brought back by the victor—human prisoners, coffers of gold, or blood-bought titles to war-won territory. How different in spirit, in action, and in expression was the assemblage that bade “God speed” to Gen. W. F. Cody on his departure as commander of the little heterogeneous army that sailed from Columbia’s shores. Yet no leader ever started on a mission possible of such rich achievement; none ever embarked upon a voyage destined to be so thoroughly and completely a tour of conquest and of glory. His project included neither the shedding of blood, the conquest of territory, nor the enslaving of prisoners. His was the mission of peace; the awakening of the Old World to the contemplation of fresh truths in the picturesque history of the New. Columbus had told old Spain of the savages that greeted him on his landing upon the shores of the New World; the Pilgrim Fathers had sent messages of their terrible struggles with their bitter Indian foes; but General Cody took with him great chieftains who called him friend. As evidences and traditions of the past, and for the delectation of peasant and prince “across the water,” they danced their war-dance and sounded their war-whoop. But to the thoughtful it must have been a grander sight to see them, in the hours not devoted to duty, grouped in friendly conclave around the man who, appearing first among them as a foe, they had learned at last to understand and appreciate as their friend indeed. What a lesson to power, what an exemplification of the true spirit that moved the founders of the great American Republic! No compulsion was used by this hero of the plains to enforce the attendance of these bronzed warriors on his journeys; but trusting to his word alone as the guerdon of their safety, they willingly, gladly, went into a far country among scenes and people strangely new to them.

THE PRAIRIE HOME OF BUFFALO BILL.

How appropriate that such an army, under such a leader, and on such a peaceful and glorious invasion, should carry into and plant in sturdy England, sunny France, historic Spain, mighty Germany, and poetic Italy the flag that proclaims to all the world that “all men are, and by right ought to be, free and equal.”

Before following the Wild West of America in a mimic display across the seas into foreign lands, it may be well to here consider something that this wonderful man among men has done in the way of educating our own and other people into knowing what the Indian really is.

Glancing now over the history of the Indians, we recall how cruel has been their mode of warfare, and massacres innumerable rise up before us, from the red scene in the Wyoming Valley to the death of the gallant Custer and his brave 300 boys in blue.

Yet, reared upon the frontier, amid scenes of courage, and learning from actual experience all the redskin could become as a foe, Buffalo Bill yet accorded to them the rights that others would not allow.

If fighting them, he yet would befriend them in time of need and was never merciless to them in defeat.

Winning fame as scout, guide, and Indian fighter, Buffalo Bill was seized upon as a hero for the pen of the novelist, and volumes have been written founded upon his deeds of daring.

Then, like a meteor, he flashed upon the people of the East, impersonating upon the stage none other than himself, living over before the footlights his own life.

Men who have criticised Buffalo Bill as an actor forget wholly that he is the only man who is playing himself.

He plays his part as he knows it, as he has acted it upon many a field, acting naturally and without bombast and forced tragic effect.

Be the motive what it may, love of lucre or the gratification of pride, the fact still remains that in his delineation of border life Buffalo Bill educated the people to seeing the hated and ever-dreaded red men in another light.

He was their friend in peace, not their foe always because once upon their trail; and he brought the red man before the public in a way never witnessed before.

Buffalo Bill never was a man-killer, and there was nothing of bravado in his nature and not a tinge of the desperado.

Brought face to face with the stern reality that either his foe or himself must die, when it was in the discharge of duty or self-defense William Cody never quailed in the face of death, and acted, as his conscience dictated, for the right.

But his stage experience gave William Cody the thought of producing border life upon a grander scale than could be done within the walls of a theater, and from this sprang the Wild West exhibitions that have delighted the world.

Conceiving the idea of presenting border life as it was before vast audiences, he at once carried the thought into execution, and Buffalo Bill’s Wild West became the center of attraction wherever it appeared.

After several times swinging around the circle in this country, the Wild West crossed the ocean in a steamship chartered to carry the vast aggregation, and landed upon the shores of England.

Behold the result! Opening in London before vast audiences, the queen, the Prince of Wales, and other royal personages of high rank flocked to see the man and those he had brought with him into the very heart of the English metropolis.

There, upon the soil of the mother country, before tens of thousands of Britishers, the Wild West held sway for months, while the hero of the plains, the prairie boy, found himself honored by royalty, a welcome visitor across the threshold of palaces, fêted by men whose names were known the wide world over.

Bearing the stars and stripes in his hand, mounted upon his finest charger, Buffalo Bill saluted the queen, who rose, and bowed in salutation to the American flag, borne by so fit a representative of his country.

Nor did the triumphal march of the Wild West end here, for Buffalo Bill sought other lands to conquer, and bore the stars and stripes into France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Austria, Belgium, and elsewhere, presenting the American flag before more peoples than it had ever been seen by during its existence of a century.

Traveling through Europe with three railway trains of seventy-five cars, carrying over three hundred people, with the horses of our plains, the buffaloes, and wild steers, the Wild West was the observed of all observers, and crowned heads everywhere gave Buffalo Bill, his cowboys, and Indians a welcome, even his holiness the pope granting them an audience.

Living in their own camp, eating American food, the people of the Wild West did much to educate foreigners into a taste for American hams, corn-meal, and other luxuries; and it was through the sending of so much corn to Cody’s commissary that Colonel Murphy of the Department of Agriculture won the name of “Corn-meal Murphy.”

From this explanatory sketch the reader can readily see how it was that Buffalo Bill went from the prairie to the palace.

For the benefit of those of my readers who are interested in the study of physiognomy, I submit the following physiognomical study of Colonel Cody by Prof. A. J. Oppenheim, B. P. A., of London:

“The length from the opening of the ear to the outer corner of the eye shows great intellectual capacity and quickness of comprehension. The forehead is broad, square, and practical. The deep setting of the eyes in their sockets denotes great shrewdness and keenness of perception. The fullness under the eye means eloquence and the faculty of verbal expression. The downward projection of the outer corner of the eyebrows means contest—he never gives in. The unevenness of the hair of the eyebrows shows hastiness of temper and irritability when under restraint, but the straightness of the eyebrows themselves denotes truthfulness and sincerity. The height of the facial bone generally indicates great intensity and strong powers of physical endurance. The ridge in the center of the nose means relative defense, protection, quixotism, taking up other people’s cudgels and fighting their battles for them. The thinness of the bridge of the nose denotes generosity and love of spending money. Colonel Cody might make many fortunes, but he would never succeed in amassing one. The length of the nostrils shows activity; the manner in which they dilate and curl, pride; and their size denotes courage and fearlessness. The transparency of the eyelids and the fineness of the eyelashes is indicative of a keenly sensitive, sympathetic, and benevolent nature. Though a large-sized man, and a great warrior, his heart is as tender as a woman’s. The angle of the jaw denotes determination and strength of purpose, but the narrowness of the lower part of the face suggests a complete absence of coarseness or brutality. The length of the throat shows a marvelous independence of spirit and love of fresh air and exercise. The wavy lines in the forehead mean hope and enthusiasm; the two perpendicular ones between the eyes, love of equity and justice.”

To-day Buffalo Bill stands as a typical plainsman, the last of a race of men whose like will never be seen again.

The trackless wilderness, the arid deserts, mountains, and plains are to-day as an open book through the work of just such pioneers of the star of empire as is Buffalo Bill.

They have solved the mysteries of the unknown land of the setting sun as it was half a century ago, and then sprang into existence as educators, and having done their work well are awaiting the last call to that great terra incognita beyond the river of death.

Their like will never be seen again on this earth, for there are no new lands to explore.

As Columbus was the pilot across the seas to discover a new world, such heroes as Boone, Fremont, Crockett, Kit Carson, and last, but by no means least, Cody, were the guides to the New World of the mighty West, and their names will go down in history as

“Among the few, the immortal names
That were not born to die.”

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CHAPTER XXII.
THE WILD WEST AT SEA.

The Wild West visited many of the principal cities of this country, played a winter season in New Orleans, a summer season at Staten Island, and the winter of 1886–87 in Madison Square Garden in New York. But with the immortal bard who wrote “ambition grows with what it feeds on,” Colonel Cody and Mr. Salsbury had an ambition to conquer other nations. The importance of the undertaking was fully realized, but nothing daunted by all that would have to be undergone to reach a foreign land and give exhibitions, the owners of the Wild West boldly made the venture.

The writer went abroad and arranged to play a season of six months in London, as an adjunct of the American exhibition. All arrangements being made, the Indians were secured, the representative types of the Sioux, Cheyennes, Kiowas, Pawnees, and Ogalallas, and a number of prominent chiefs.

Having collected a company of more than two hundred men and animals, consisting of Indians, cowboys, Mexican riders, rifle-shots, buffaloes, Texas steers, burros, broncos, racing-horses, elk, bear, and an immense amount of paraphernalia such as tents, wagons, stage-coach, arms, ammunition, costumes, and all equipage necessary, the steamship City of Nebraska, Captain Braes, was chartered. The City of Nebraska, loaded with the Wild West, set sail from New York, Thursday, March 31, 1887. The piers were crowded with thousands of good friends who went down to wave adieux and to wish the Wild West a pleasant voyage and success.

As the steamship City of Nebraska pulled out of the dock the cowboy band played “The Girl I Left Behind Me” in a manner that suggested more reality than empty sentiment in the familiar air. Before starting on the trip a number of the Indians had expressed grave fears about trusting themselves upon the mighty ocean, fearing that a dreadful death would soon overtake them, and it required much persuasion at the last moment to induce them to go on board.

Red Shirt explained that these fears were caused by a superstitious belief that if a red man attempted to cross the ocean he would be seized of a malady that would first prostrate the victim and then slowly consume his flesh, until at length the very skin itself would drop from his bones, leaving nothing but the skeleton, and this even would never find burial. This weird belief was repeated by the chiefs of several tribes to the Indians who had joined the Wild West, so there was little reason for wonder that the poor children of the forest should hesitate to submit themselves to such an experiment. On the day following the departure from New York the Indians began to grow weary, and becoming seasick they were both treacherous and rebellious. Their fears were greatly intensified as even Red Shirt, the bravest of his people, looked anxiously toward the hereafter, and began to feel his flesh to see if it was really diminishing. The hopelessness stamped upon the faces of the Indians was pitiful to behold, and but for the endeavors of Buffalo Bill to cheer them up and relieve their forebodings there is no knowing what might have happened. But for two days the whole company, Indians, cowboys, and all, did little other active service than to feed the fishes.

On the third day all began to grow better, and the Indians were called into the salon and given a sermon by Buffalo Bill; Red Shirt also, having lost his anxiety, joining in the oratory.

After the seasickness was over, Mr. Salsbury, as singer and comedian, took an active part in amusing all on board. The seventh day of the voyage a fierce storm swept over the sea, and the ship was forced to lay to, and during its continuance the stock suffered greatly; but only one horse died on the trip. At last the steamship cast anchor off Gravesend, and a tugboat loaded with custom-house and quarantine officers boarded to make the usual inspection. The English government, through its officials, extended every courtesy. A special permit was given for the animals to land, and the people started for the camp.

The arrival of the City of Nebraska had been watched for with great curiosity, as a number of yachts, tugboats, and other craft surrounding it testified. A tug was soon seen flying the Stars and Stripes, and as it came nearer the strains of “The Star Spangled Banner,” rendered by the band on her deck, floated across the water. As the welcome strains ended, the cowboy band on the Nebraska responded with “Yankee Doodle.” When the tug came alongside, the company on board proved to be the directors of the American exhibition in London, with Lord Ronald Gower heading a distinguished committee and representatives of the leading journals of England.

As Buffalo Bill landed with the committee three cheers were given, and cries rang out of “Welcome to old England,” giving pleasing evidence of the public interest that had been awakened through the coming of the Wild West. A special train with saloon carriages was waiting to convey the party to London, and leaving behind them the old Kentish town, in an hour after they arrived at Victoria Station.

Entering the headquarters of the exhibition Buffalo Bill and those who accompanied him found a bounteous repast set, and a generous welcome was accorded them. After brief social converse a visit was made to the grounds, where hundreds of busy workmen were hastening the completion of the arena, the grand-stand, and stabling for the cattle. When it is taken into consideration that these operations were dealing with an expenditure of over one hundred and thirty thousand dollars, the greatness of the enterprise can be understood. An arena of more than a third of a mile in circumference, flanked by a grand-stand filled with seats and boxes to accommodate 20,000 persons, sheltered stands for 10,000 more, the standing-room being 10,000, will give an idea of the size of the Wild West exhibition grounds.

The interest evinced by the British workmen in the coming of the Wild West people was as a straw indicating which way the wind blew, or intended to blow. On the following morning, when the tide was at its flood, the City of Nebraska steamed up the river, the trip being a pleasure to all on board. With the assistance of the horsemen, each looking after his own horse, the unloading was begun and carried on with a rapidity that astonished even the old dock-hands and officials. Through the courtesy of the custom-house people there was hardly a moment’s delay in the debarkation; but although landing in London, the Wild West was still twelve miles away from its city camp. Loading the entire outfit on two trains, it was speedily delivered at the Midland Railway Depot adjoining the grounds, and by 4 o’clock on the same afternoon the horses and other animals had been stabled, watered, and fed, and the camp equipage and bedding distributed. The camp cooks were preparing the evening meal, tents were going up, stoves being erected, tables spread and set in the open air, tepees erected, and by 6 o’clock a perfect canvas city had sprung up in the heart of West End London.

Upon the flag-staff the starry banner had been run up and was floating in the breeze, and the cowboy band rendering the national airs of America, amid the shouts and cheers of thousands who lined the walls, streets, and housetops of the surrounding neighborhood. This was most gratifying to the newcomers, and in answer to the hearty plaudits of the English, Colonel Cody ordered the band to play “God Save the Queen,” and the Wild West was at home in London.

The first camp meal being necessarily eaten in full view of the crowd, the dining-tents not being ready, was a novel sight to them, from the motley population of Indians, cowboys, scouts, Mexicans, etc. The meal was finished by 7 o’clock, and by 9 o’clock the little camp was complete, and its tired occupants, men, women, and children, were reposing more snugly, safely, and peacefully than they had done in many weeks.

Trivial as these details may appear at first sight, the rapidity with which the Wild West had transported its materials from dock to depot, and depot to ground, had an immense effect upon the people of London. A number of notable visitors present, especially the representatives of the press, expressed great astonishment at the enterprise of the Americans, and communicated that feeling throughout London.

“The Yankees mean business” was the expression heard upon all sides. As the Wild West was not to open its exhibition for several days after its arrival, Colonel Cody and Mr. Salsbury had an opportunity of meeting many distinguished persons in England, who called upon them, and who afterward proved most friendly and hospitable. Among these prominent persons was Mr. Henry Irving, who had witnessed the Wild West performance at Staten Island, and paved the way in a great measure for its success in London by speaking in the kindest terms to a representative of the great dramatic organ, The Era. It may not be amiss to here quote his remarks. Mr. Irving said in The Era:

“I saw an entertainment in New York, the like of which I had never seen before, which impressed me immensely. It is coming to London. It is an entertainment in which the whole of the most interesting episodes of life on the extreme frontier of civilization in America are represented with the most graphic vividness and scrupulous detail. You have real cowboys with bucking horses, real buffaloes, and great hordes of steers, which are lassoed and stampeded in the most realistic fashion imaginable. Then there are real Indians, who execute attacks upon coaches driven at full speed. No one can exaggerate the extreme excitement and ‘go’ of the whole performance. It is simply immense, and I venture to predict that when it comes to London it will take the town by storm.”

Among other early callers upon the Wild West, and who gave their influence and friendly aid in London, were genial John L. Toole, Miss Ellen Terry, Mr. Justin McCarthy, United States Minister Phelps, Consul-General Gov. Thomas Waller, Deputy Consul Moffat, Mr. Henry Labouchere, M. P., Miss Mary Anderson, Mrs. Brown-Potter, Mr. Charles Wyndham, Lord Ronald Gower, Sir Cundiffe Owen, Lord Henry Paget, Lord Charles Beresford, the Grand Duke Michael of Russia, Lady Monckton, Sir Francis Knollys, private secretary to the Prince of Wales; Colonel Clarke, Colonel Montague, Lady Alice Beckie (whom the Indians afterward named the “Sunshine of the Camp”), Lord Strathmore, Lord Windsor, Lady Randolph Churchill, Mrs. John W. Mackay, and a host of distinguished American residents in London, who also visited the camp before the regular opening of the Wild West, and by their expressions of friendship gave encouragement for success in the future.

The sight of the Indians, cowboys, American girls, and Mexicans, with Buffalo Bill as chief, was most attractive to Londoners, while the English love of horsemanship, feats of skill, and fondness for sports presaged an appreciative community. The press was also most generous, the columns of the papers teeming daily with information so eulogistic that the Wild Westerners were afraid they would never be able to come up to expectations.

Fifty large scrap-books, filled to repletion with press notices, now form a conspicuous part of Colonel Cody’s library at Scout’s-Rest Ranch. The London Illustrated News, in connection with two pages of illustration, is drawn upon for the following extract:

“It is certainly a novel idea for one nation to give an exhibition devoted exclusively to its own frontier history, or the story enacted by genuine characters of the dangers and hardships of its settlement, upon the soil of another country 3,000 miles away. Yet this is exactly what the Americans will do this year in London, and it is an idea worthy of that thorough-going and enterprising people. We frankly and gladly allow that there is a natural and sentimental view of the design which will go far to obtain for it a hearty welcome in England. The progress of the United States, now the largest community of the English race on the face of the earth, though not in political union with Great Britain, yet intimately connected with us by social sympathies; by a common language and literature; by ancestral traditions and many centuries of common history; by much remaining similarity of civil institutions, laws, morals, and manners; by the same forms of religions; by the same attachments to the principles of order and freedom, and by the mutual interchange of benefits in a vast commerce, and in the materials and sustenance of their staple industries, is a proper subject of congratulation; for the popular mind in the United Kingdom does not regard, and will never be taught to regard, what are styled ‘imperial’ interests—those of mere political dominion—as equally valuable with the habits and ideas and domestic life of the aggregate of human families belonging to our own race. The greater numerical proportion of these, already exceeding sixty millions, are inhabitants of the great American Republic, while the English-speaking subjects of Queen Victoria number a little above forty-five millions, including those in Canada and Australasia and scattered among the colonial dependencies of this realm. It would be unnatural to deny ourselves the indulgence of a just gratification in seeing what men of our own blood, men of our own mind and disposition in all essential respects, though tempered and sharpened by more stimulating conditions, with some wider opportunities for exertion, have achieved in raising a wonderful fabric of modern civilization, and bringing it to the highest prosperity, across the whole breadth of the Western Continent, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. We feel sure that this sentiment will prevail in the hearts of hundreds of thousands of visitors to Buffalo Bill’s American camp, about to be opened at the west end of London; and we take it kindly of the great kindred people of the United States that they now send such a magnificent representation to the motherland, determined to take some part in celebrating the jubilee of her majesty the queen, who is the political representative of the people of Great Britain and Ireland.”

The tone of this article strikes the same chord as the whole of the comments of the English press. It divested the Wild West of its attributes as an entertainment simply, and treated the visit as an event of first-class international importance, and a link between the affections of the two kindred nations such as had never before been forged.

W E Gladstone	King of Greece	John Bright, M.P.
King of Saxony	King of the Belgians	King of Denmark
Prince of Wales	King of Sweden	Gen’l Lord Wolseley.

EUROPEAN CELEBRITIES—VISITORS AT THE WILD WEST, LONDON.

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CHAPTER XXIII.
A ROYAL WELCOME.

While in the midst of extensive preparations for their opening, the proprietors of the Wild West received an intimation that the ex-premier, the Rt. Hon. W. E. Gladstone, M. P., proposed honoring them with a preliminary call. The date fixed for the visit was the 25th of April, and shortly after 1 o’clock P. M. on that day the distinguished visitor arrived at Earl’s Court with Mrs. Gladstone, and accompanied by the Marquis of Lorne (husband of the Princess Louise), attended by Lord Ronald Gower and Mr. Waller (Consul-General of the United States), escorted by Nate Salsbury.

The cowboy band welcomed the visitors with the strains of “Yankee Doodle,” and they were presently introduced to Colonel Cody, who in turn presented to them the denizens of the encampment. The Grand Old Man was soon engaged in conversation with Red Shirt, to whom Colonel Cody had explained that Mr. Gladstone was one of the great white chiefs of England. Red Shirt was much puzzled by Mr. Gladstone’s inquiring, through an interpreter, if he thought the Englishman looked enough like the American for him to believe that they were kinsmen and brothers. Red Shirt created quite a laugh by replying that “he wasn’t quite sure about that.” It would be hard to picture the astonishment of the visitors when the Indians, in full war-paint, riding their swift horses, dashed into the arena from an ambuscade, and the enthusiasm grew immense when Colonel Cody placed himself at the head of the whole body and wheeled them into line for a general salute. It was a real treat to see the ex-premier enjoying himself like a veritable school-boy when the lasso, the feats of shooting, and the bucking-horses were introduced; and when the American cowboys tackled the incorrigible bucking-horses he sometimes cheered the animal and sometimes the man. At the conclusion of the exhibition Mr. Gladstone expressed himself as having been greatly entertained and interested, and spoke in warm and affecting terms of the instrumental good work the Wild West had come to do. In a brilliant little speech he proposed “success to the Wild West Show,” which aroused the enthusiasm of all present. His demeanor on this and other occasions when he met the Americans made clear to them the reason of the fascination he exercises over the masses of his countrymen.

A REDSKIN VILLAGE IN A PALEFACE CITY—LONDON.

Then for Colonel Cody commenced a long series of invitations to breakfasts, dinners, luncheons, midnight layouts, and other attentions by which London society delights to honor a distinguished foreigner. In addition to many receptions tendered him, he was made an honorary member of most of the best clubs, notably the Reform Club, where he was presented to the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Cambridge, and many prominent gentlemen. He was afterward a guest at a civic lunch at the Mansion House, with the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress; a dinner at the Beaufort Club, where that fine sportsman the Duke of Beaufort occupied the chair; and a memorable evening at the Savage Club, with Mr. Wilson Barrett (who had just returned from America) presiding, and an attendance comprising such great spirits as Mr. Henry Irving, John L. Toole, and others great in literary, artistic, and histrionic London. At the United Arts Club he was entertained by the Duke of Teck, and at the St. George’s Club by Lord Bruce, Lord Woolmer, Lord Lymington, Mr. Christopher Sykes, Mr. Herbert Gladstone, and others. Subsequently he dined at Mr. Irving’s, Lady McGregor’s, Lady Tenterden’s, Mrs. Charles Matthews’ (widow of the great actor), Mrs. J. W. Mackay’s, Lord Randolph and Lady Churchill’s, Edmund Yates’, and at Great Marlow. These are but a very few of the many invitations he was called upon to accept during this visit. When Mr. and Mrs. Labouchere gave their grand garden production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” Colonel Cody was an honored guest. He also accompanied Lord Charles Beresford in the Coaching Club Parade in Hyde Park, and was prevented by press of business from accepting an invitation to a mount with the Honorable Artillery Company of London (the oldest volunteer in the kingdom), in the parade in honor of her majesty the queen’s birthday.

Considering the fact that the Indians were all new from the Pine Ridge Agency and had never seen the exhibition, and that 100 of the ponies came direct from the plains of Texas and had never been ridden or shot over, it is a wonder how Colonel Cody, with these social demands made upon his time, succeeded in forming so good an exhibition on the opening day.

During all this fashionable hurly-burly Colonel Cody received the following letter:

Marlborough House,
Pall Mall, S. W., April 26, 1887.

Dear Sir: I am desired by the Prince of Wales to thank you for your invitation. His royal highness is anxious I should see you with reference to it. Perhaps, therefore, you would kindly make it convenient to call at Marlborough House.

Would it suit you to call at 11.30 or 5 o’clock either to-morrow (Wednesday) or Thursday? I am, dear sir,

Yours faithfully,
(Signed) Francis Knollys,
Private Secretary.

This resulted in an arrangement to give a special and exclusive performance for H. R. H. the Prince and Princess of Wales, although everything was still incomplete, the track unfinished, and spoiled by rainy weather and the hauling on of vast timbers. The ground was in unspeakably bad condition. The Prince of Wales being busily occupied in arranging matters for the queen’s jubilee had but limited latitude in regard to time, so postponement was out of the question. The royal box was handsomely rigged out with American and English flags, and the party conducted into the precincts of the Wild West was a strong one numerically as well as in point of exalted rank: The Prince and Princess of Wales, with their three daughters, Princesses Louise, Victoria, and Maud, led the way; then came the Princess Louise and her husband, the Marquis of Lorne; the Duke of Cambridge; H. S. H. of Teck and his son; the Comtesse de Paris; the Crown Prince of Denmark; followed by Lady Suffield and Miss Knollys, Lady Cole, Colonel Clarke, Lord Edward Somerset, and other high-placed attendants on the assembled royalties.

Colonel Cody was introduced by the Prince of Wales to the princess, and introductions to the other exalted personages followed, in which Nate Salsbury and the writer were included. This was one of many meetings between his royal highness and Colonel Cody, and before leaving London the prince presented to the colonel a very handsome diamond copy of his crest—the three ostrich feathers mounted in gems and gold—as a breastpin.

When the prince gave the signal the Indians, yelling like fiends, galloped out from their ambuscade and swept round the inclosure like a whirlwind. The effect was instantaneous and electric. The prince rose from his seat and leaned eagerly over the front of the box, and the whole party seemed thrilled at the spectacle. From that moment everything was all right; everybody was in capital form and the whole thing went off grandly. At the finish an amusing incident occurred. Our lady shots, on being presented, cordially offered to shake hands with the princess. Be it known that feminine royalty offers the left hand, back uppermost, which the person presented is expected to reverently lift with the finger-tips and to salute with the lips. However, the princess got over the difficulty by taking their proffered hands and shaking them heartily.

Then followed an inspection of the Indian camp and a talk between the prince and Red Shirt. His royal highness expressed through the interpreter his great delight at what he had seen, and the princess personally offered him a welcome to England. “Tell the great chief’s wife,” said Red Shirt with much dignity, “that it gladdens my heart to hear her words of welcome.” While the ladies of the suite were petting John Nelson’s half-breed papoose, the prince visited Colonel Cody’s tent and while there seemed much interested in the gold-mounted sword presented to Colonel Cody by the generals of the United States Army. Despite the muddy state of the ground, the prince and his party made an inspection of the stables, where 200 bronco horses and other animals were quartered. He particularly gratified Colonel Cody by demanding a full, true, and particular history of Old Charlie—then in his twenty-first year—who had carried his owner through so much arduous work on the plains and who once bore him over a flight of 100 miles in nine hours and forty minutes when chased by hostile Indians.

H.R.H. Princess of Saxe-Meiningen	Countess of Dudley	Grand Duchess Serge of Russia
H.R.H. Princess of Wales	VICTORIA EMPRESS OF INDIA.	H.R.H. Princess Beatrice, Battenberg
Princess Louise	H.R.H. Princess Mary Adelaide	Queen of the Belgians

ROYAL VISITORS TO THE WILD WEST, LONDON.

At 7 o’clock the royal visit, and our first full performance in England, terminated by the prince presenting the contents of his cigarette-case to Red Shirt.

A walk around the principal streets of London at this time would have shown how, by anticipation, the Wild West had “caught on” to the popular imagination. The windows of the London bookseller were full of editions of Fenimore Cooper’s novels, “The Pathfinder,” “The Deerslayer,” “The Last of the Mohicans,” “Leather Stocking,” and, in short, all that series of delightful romances which have placed the name of the American novelist on the same level with that of Sir Walter Scott. It was a real revival of trade for the booksellers, who sold thousands of volumes of Cooper, where twenty years before they had sold them in dozens, while Colonel Prentiss Ingraham’s realistic “Border Romances of Buffalo Bill” had a tremendous sale. There is no doubt that the visit of the Wild West to England set the population of the British Islands to reading, thinking, and talking about their American kinsmen to an extent theretofore unknown. It taught them to know more of the mighty nation beyond the Atlantic, and consequently to esteem it better than at any time within the limits of modern history.

The Wild West having made its début in London, the following comment of the Times and letters from General Sherman will be appreciated by the reader:

AMERICAN WILD WEST EXHIBITION.

The American exhibition, which has attracted all the town to West Brompton for the last few months, was brought yesterday to an appropriate and dignified close. A meeting of representative Englishmen and Americans was held, under the presidency of Lord Lorne, in support of the movement for establishing a Court of Arbitration for the settlement of disputes between this country and the United States. At first sight it might seem to be a far cry from the Wild West to an International Court. Yet the connection is not really very remote. Exhibitions of American products and scenes from the wilder phases of American life certainly tend, in some degree at least, to bring America nearer to England. They are partly cause and partly effect. They are the effect of increased and increasing intercourse between the two countries, and they tend to promote a still more intimate understanding. Those who went to be amused often stayed to be instructed. The Wild West was irresistible. Colonel Cody suddenly found himself the hero of the London season. Notwithstanding his daily engagements and his punctual fulfillment of them, he found time to go everywhere, to see everything, and to be seen by all the world. All London contributed to his triumph, and now the close of his show is selected as the occasion for promoting a great international movement, with Mr. Bright, Lord Granville, Lord Wolseley, and Lord Lorne for its sponsors. Civilization itself consents to march onward in the train of “Buffalo Bill.” Colonel Cody can achieve no greater triumph than this, even if he some day realizes the design attributed to him of running the Wild West show within the classic precincts of the Coliseum at Rome.

This association of the cause of international arbitration with the fortunes of the American Wild West is not without its grotesque aspects. But it has a serious import, nevertheless. After all, the Americans and the English are one stock. Nothing that is American comes altogether amiss to an Englishman. We are apt to think that American life is not picturesque. We have been shown one of its most picturesque aspects. It is true that Red Shirt would be as unusual a phenomenon in Broadway as in Cheapside. But the Wild West, for all that, is racy of the American soil. We can easily imagine Wall Street for ourselves; we need to be shown the cowboys of Colorado. Hence it is no paradox to say that Colonel Cody has done his part in bringing America and England nearer together.—Editorial from the London Times, November 1, 1887.

* * * * *

The following letters were received by Buffalo Bill from Gen. W. T. Sherman soon after the opening of the Wild West in London.

Fifth Avenue Hotel,
New York, May 8, 1887.

Dear Cody: I was much pleased to receive your dispatch of May 5th announcing the opening of the Wild West in old London, and that your first performance was graced by the presence of the Prince and Princess of Wales. I had penned a short answer to go by cable, but it fell so far short of my thoughts that I tore it up and preferred the old-fashioned letter, which I am sure you can afford to await. After your departure in the State of Nebraska I was impatient until the cable announced your safe arrival in the Thames, without the loss of a man or animal during the voyage. Since that time our papers have kept us well “posted,” and I assure you that no one of your host of friends on this side of the water was more pleased to hear of your safe arrival and of your first exhibition than myself. I had, in 1872, the honor and great pleasure of meeting the Prince of Wales and the Princess Alexandra on board our fleet in Southampton Bay, and was struck by the manly, frank character of the prince, and the extreme beauty and grace of the princess. The simple fact that they honored your opening exhibition assures us all that the English people will not construe your party as a show, but a palpable illustration of the men and qualities which have enabled the United States to subdue the 2,000 miles of our wild West continent, and make it the home of civilization. You and I remember the time when we needed a strong military escort to go from Fort Riley in Kansas to Fort Kearney on the Platte; when emigrants to Colorado went armed and organized as soldiers, where now the old and young, rich and poor, sweep across the plains in palace cars with as much comfort as on a ride from London to Edinburgh. Your exhibition better illustrates the method by which this was accomplished than a thousand volumes of printed matter. The English people always have, and I hope always will love pluck and endurance. You have exhibited both, and in nothing more than your present venture, and I assure you that you have my best wishes for success in your undertaking.

Sincerely your friend,
W. T. Sherman.

* * * * *

Fifth Avenue Hotel,
New York, June 29, 1887.

Hon. Wm. F. Cody,
London, England.

Dear Cody: * * * In common with all your countrymen, I want to let you know that I am not only gratified, but proud of your management and general behavior; so far as I can make out, you have been modest, graceful, and dignified in all you have done to illustrate the history of civilization on this continent during the past century.

I am especially pleased with the graceful and pretty compliment paid you by the Princess of Wales, who rode in the Deadwood coach while it was attacked by the Indians and rescued by the cowboys. Such things did occur in our days, and may never again.

As near as I can estimate, there were in 1865 about nine and a half millions of buffaloes on the plains between the Missouri River and the Rocky Mountains. All are now gone—killed for their meat, their skins and bones.

This seems like desecration, cruelty, and murder, yet they have been replaced by twice as many neat cattle. At that date there were about 165,000 Pawnees, Sioux, Cheyennes, Kiowas, and Arapahoes, who depended on these buffaloes for their yearly food. They, too, are gone, and have been replaced by twice or thrice as many white men and women, who have made the earth to blossom as the rose, and who can be counted, taxed, and governed by the laws of nature and civilization. This change has been salutary, and will go on to the end. You have caught one epoch of the world’s history, have illustrated it in the very heart of the modern world—London—and I want you to feel that on this side the water we appreciate it.

This drama must end; days, years, and centuries follow fast; even the drama of civilization must have an end.

All I aim to accomplish on this sheet of paper is to assure you that I fully recognize your work and that the presence of the queen, the beautiful Princess of Wales, the prince, and British public, are marks of favor which reflect back on America sparks of light which illuminate many a house and cabin in the land where once you guided me honestly and faithfully in 1865–66 from Fort Riley to Kearney in Kansas and Nebraska.

Sincerely your friend,
W. T. Sherman.

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CHAPTER XXIV.
A VISIT FROM QUEEN VICTORIA.

“By command of her majesty the queen.”—It must be understood that the queen never requests, desires, or invites even her own prime minister, to her own dinner-tables, but “commands” invariably. A special performance was given by the Wild West, the understanding being that her majesty and suite would take a private view of the performance. The queen, ever since the death of her husband nearly thirty years ago, has cherished an invincible objection to appearing before great assemblages of her subjects. She visits her parliament seldom, the theaters never. Her latest knowledge of her greatest actors and actresses has been gained from private performances at Windsor, whither they have been “commanded” to entertain her, and that at very infrequent intervals. But, as with Mahomet and the mountain, the Wild West was altogether too colossal to take to Windsor, and so the queen came to the Wild West—an honor which was unique and unexampled in its character. When this visit was announced the public would hardly believe it, and if bets had been made at the clubs, the odds on a rank outsider in the Derby would have been nothing to the amount that would have been bet that it was a Yankee hoax. The news that her majesty would arrive at 5 o’clock and would require to see everything in an hour was in the nature of an astounding surprise to the management of the Wild West; but they determined to do the very best in their power, and that settled it. A dais for her majesty was erected and a box specially constructed draped with crimson velvet and decorated with orchids, leaving plenty of accommodation for the attendant noblemen, and all was made as bright and cheerful as possible.

With royal punctuality the sovereign lady and her suite rolled up in their carriages, drove around the arena in state, and dismounted at the entrance to the box. The august company included, besides her majesty, their royal highnesses Prince and Princess of Battenburg, the Marquis of Lorne, the dowager Duchess of Athole, and the Hon. Ethel Cadogan, Sir Henry and Lady Ponsonby, Gen. Lynedoch Gardiner, Col. Sir Henry Ewart, Lord Ronald Gower, and a collection of uniformed celebrities and brilliantly attired fair ladies, who formed a veritable parterre of living flowers around the temporary throne.

During the introduction of the performers of the exhibition a remarkable incident occurred which is worthy of being specially recorded. As usual in the entertainment the American flag, carried by a graceful, well-mounted horseman, was introduced, with the statement that it was “an emblem of peace and friendship to all the world.” As the standard-bearer, who on this occasion was Col. William F. Cody himself, waved the proud emblem above his head, her majesty rose from her seat and bowed deeply and impressively toward the banner. The whole court party rose, the ladies bowed, the generals present saluted, and the English noblemen took off their hats. Then there arose from the company such a genuine, heart-stirring American yell as seemed to shake the sky. It was a great event. For the first time in history since the Declaration of Independence a sovereign of Great Britain had saluted the star-spangled banner—and that banner was carried by Buffalo Bill. It was an outward and visible sign of the extinction of that mutual prejudice, sometimes almost amounting to race hatred, that had severed the two nations from the times of Washington and George III. to the present day. The hatchet was buried at last, and the Wild West had been at the funeral.

The queen not only abandoned her original intention of remaining to see only the first acts, but saw the whole thing through, and wound up with a “command” that Buffalo Bill should be presented to her, and her compliments were deliberate and unmeasured. Mr. Nate Salsbury and Chief Red Shirt, the latter gorgeous in his war-paint and splendid feather trappings, were also presented. The chief’s proud bearing seemed to take with the royal party immensely, and when he quietly declared that “he had come a long way to see her majesty, and felt glad,” and strolled abruptly away, the queen smiled appreciatively, as one who would say, “I know a real duke when I see him.” After inspecting the papooses the queen’s visit came to an end, with a last “command,” expressed through Sir Henry Ponsonby, that a record of all she had seen should be sent on to Windsor.

While receiving generous attention from the most prominent English people, Colonel Cody was by no means neglected by his own countrymen, many of whom were frequent visitors to the Wild West Show, and added by their presence and influence much to the popularity of both the show and Colonel Cody himself. Hon. James G. Blaine, accompanied by his family, spent several hours in Colonel Cody’s tent, and was a frequent visitor to the show. So also were Hon. Joseph Pulitzer, Chauncey M. Depew, Lawrence Jerome, Murat Halstead, General Hawley, Simon Cameron, and many other distinguished Americans.

When the Hon. James G. Blaine visited the Wild West in London, accompanied by his wife and daughters, his carriage was driven through the royal gate to the grounds, and he was received by the English people as though he had been one of the royal highnesses.

The Wild West band played the “Star Spangled Banner,” the air so loved by all true Americans being received by the English audience rising, and standing while Mr. Blaine and party alighted from their carriage and were escorted to the box set aside for them.

When the distinguished party were seated the band played “Way Down in Maine” and “Yankee Doodle.” After the entertainment, when Mr. Blaine took his departure, he was given three rousing cheers by the English, a tribute which he gracefully acknowledged and appreciated fully.

So many prominent Americans, acquaintances of Colonel Cody, were in London at that time that it was determined to give them a novel entertainment that would serve the double purpose of regaling their appetites while affording an illustration of the wild habits of many Indian tribes. In accordance with this resolution Gen. Simon Cameron—as the guest of honor and about one hundred other Americans, including those named above, were invited to a rib-roast breakfast prepared by the Indians after the manner of their cooking when in their native homes.

The large dining-tent was gorgeously festooned and decorated for the occasion, and all the invited guests responded to the summons and arrived by 9 o’clock in the morning. Before the tent a fire had been made, around which were grouped a number of Indian cooks. A hole had been dug in the ground and in this a great bed of coals was now made, over which was set a wooden tripod from which was suspended several ribs of beef. An Indian noted for his skill as a rib-roaster attended to the cooking by gently moving the meat over the hot coals for nearly half an hour, when it was removed to the quarters and there jointed ready to be served. The guests were much interested in the process of cooking and were equally anxious to sample the product of Indian culinary art. The whole of the Indian tribes in camp breakfasted with the visitors, squatting on straw at the end of the long dining-tent. Some dozen ribs were cooked and eaten in this primitive fashion, civilized and savage methods of eating confronting each other. The thoroughly typical breakfast over, excellent speeches, chiefly of a humorous nature, were made by the honored guest General Cameron, Colonel Cody, and others of the party. The breakfast was supplemented by an Indian dance, and thus ended the unique entertainment.

On the 20th of June a special morning exhibition of the Wild West was, by further “command” from her majesty, given to the kingly and princely guests of Queen Victoria upon the occasion of her jubilee. This was the third entertainment given to royalty in private, and surely never before in the history of the world had such a gathering honored a public entertainment. The gathering of personages consisted of the King of Denmark, the King of Saxony, the King and Queen of the Belgians and the King of Greece, the Crown Prince of Austria, the Prince and Princess of Saxe-Meiningen, the Crown Prince and Princess of Germany, the Crown Prince of Sweden and Norway, the Princess Victoria of Prussia, the Duke of Sparta, the Grand Duke Michael of Russia, Prince George of Greece, Prince Louis of Baden, and last, but not least, the Prince and Princess of Wales with their family, besides a great host of lords and ladies innumerable.

A peculiar circumstance of the visit of Queen Victoria to the Wild West exhibition may be mentioned here. It was at the time of the queen’s jubilee, and there had gathered in London the largest and grandest assemblage of royalty ever before known in the world’s history, to do honor to the queen’s reign of half a century.

It was the day before her majesty had appointed to meet all the royal personages that she came face to face with them, all gathered together to do honor to the American entertainment of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West; an honor indeed to the famous scout, and which was commented upon by the Prince of Wales, who referred to the great number of distinguished people present, and that it was made possible by the fact that peace reigned upon earth with all nations who were there represented.

On this occasion the good old Deadwood coach, “baptized in fire and blood” so repeatedly on the plains, had the honor of carrying on its time-honored timbers four kings and the Prince of Wales. This elicited from his royal highness the remark to Colonel Cody, “Colonel, you never held four kings like these before,” to which Colonel Cody promptly and aptly replied, “I’ve held four kings, but four kings and the Prince of Wales makes a royal flush, such as no man ever held before.” At this the prince laughed heartily.

After this interesting gathering Colonel Cody received from Marlborough House the following letter of thanks:

Marlborough House, Pall Mall, S. W.

Dear Sir: Lieut.-Gen. Sir Dighton Probyn, comptroller and treasurer of the Prince of Wales’ household, presents his compliments to Colonel Cody, and is directed by his royal highness to forward him the accompanying pin as a souvenir of the performance of the Wild West which Colonel Cody gave before the Prince and Princess of Wales, the kings of Denmark, Belgium, Greece, and Saxony, and other royal guests, on Monday last, to all of whom, the prince desires Sir Dighton Probyn to say, the entertainment gave great satisfaction.

London, June 22, 1887.

This souvenir pin bore the crest and motto of the Prince of Wales, and readers will perhaps be familiar with the story of how this crest and motto (Ich dien, “I serve”) were wrested from the King of Bohemia at Cressy by the Black Prince, son of Edward III. of England.

Few men have had such honors bestowed upon them as has Buffalo Bill, for he can also point with pride to a superb diamond crest presented him by Queen Victoria, the elegant pin from the Prince of Wales, while from Prince George of Russia he received a magnificent gold tankard of mosaic pattern.

Other royal personages have also made him the recipient of many costly gifts, while persons in private life have shown their appreciation of the record he has won in many ways.

The prince and princess and their sons and daughters were frequent visitors to the Wild West during its stay in London. Upon one occasion his royal highness determined to try the novel sensation of a ride in the old stage, and notwithstanding some objection on the part of her royal husband, the princess also booked for inside passage and took it smilingly, seeming highly delighted with the experience. On one occasion the royal lady startled the managers of the show by an intimation that she would that evening attend the performance incognito. The manager whose duty it was to receive her declared himself in a “middling tight fix” as to where and how to seat her. Upon her arrival, in answer to the question if she desired any particular position, the lady replied, “Certainly, yes. Put me immediately among the people. I like the people.” The manager, with great thoughtfulness, ushered her into one of the press boxes, with Colonel Montague, Mrs. Clark, and her brother the Prince of Denmark. Later, to his surprise, several of the newspaper boys came into the adjoining box, and in order to avert the latter’s suspicion of who the lady occupant of the box was, the manager was compelled to address the royal lady and her escort as “Colonel and Mrs. Jones, friends of mine from Texas.” The princess took the joke with becoming gravity, and afterward confessed the evening was one of the pleasantest and funniest she had ever spent in her life.

And so, amid the innumerable social junketings, roastings, and courtly functions, added to hard work, the London experiences of the Wild West drew to a successful close.

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CHAPTER XXV.
THE HOME TRAIL.

From London the Wild West visited Birmingham, where it occupied the Aston Lower Grounds; thence to Manchester—“Cottonopolis,” as it is endearingly called by its inhabitants—where the winter season was opened. In the short space of two months the largest theater ever seen in the world was here erected by an enterprising firm of Manchester builders, together with a commodious building attached to it for the accommodation of the troupe, whose tents and tepees were erected under its shelter. The whole of the structure was comfortably heated by steam and illuminated by electric light. This building was built on the great race-course, where several times in the course of each year it is not uncommon for 80,000 or 100,000 persons to assemble; and the buildings in which Ormonde, Ben d’Or, Robert the Devil, and a thousand other world-famed equine wonders had taken their rest and refreshment, were now appropriated to the comfort of the broncos, mustangs, and other four-footed coadjutors of the Wild West.

The first performance given in Manchester was complimentary, and the entire beauty, rank, and fashion of Manchester and the surrounding towns were invited guests. The mayors, town councils, corporation officials, prominent merchants and manufacturers, bishops and clergy of all denominations, and an able-bodied horde of pressmen came down in their thousands. From Liverpool, across country through Leeds and York to Hull and New Castle, and from Carlisle, as far south as Birmingham, everybody of consequence was present, and the immense building was filled to its utmost capacity. The consequence was that from the opening day, and despite the dreary winter weather, the well-lighted, well-warmed “Temple of Buffalo Bill and Thespis”—as somebody called it—was constantly crowded with pleasure-seeking throngs. Incidentally it may be mentioned that the scores of requisitions from the heads of schools and charitable institutions for reduced rates for “their little waifs,” was always met by the management of the Wild West with a courteous invitation for the little ones to attend the Wednesday afternoon performances free of charge. During their stay in “Cottonopolis” the members of the Wild West were welcomed with the same ungrudging and overwhelming hospitality that had marked their visit to the capital. While here Colonel Cody was publicly presented with a magnificent rifle by the artistic, dramatic, and literary gentlemen of Manchester, and the event having got wind in London, the élite of the metropolitan literati, headed by Sir Somers Vine and including representatives of all the great American journals, secured a special train and ran up to Manchester some hundred strong to grace the ceremony with their presence. The presentation took place in the arena, and afterward Colonel Cody invited the whole crowd of local celebrities and London visitors to a regular camp dinner, with fried oysters, Boston pork and beans, Maryland chicken, and other American dishes, and a real Indian “rib-roast” as the piece de resistance. The banquet was held in the race-course pavilion. Among the guests were the Mayor of Salford, a number of civic dignitaries from both Manchester and the neighboring borough, United States Consul Moffat of London and Consul Hale of Manchester, the latter of whom made the speech of the evening. This dinner was certainly an entirely original lay-out to the visitors, and the comments of the English guests upon the novel and to them outlandish fare they were consuming were highly amusing to the American members of the party. To the Englishmen corn-cake, hominy, and other American fixings were a complete revelation, and the rib-roast, served in tin platters and eaten in the fingers, without knives or forks, was a source of huge wonderment. The American flag was rarely ever toasted more heartily by Englishmen than on that occasion, and for a week afterward the press of the country were dilating on the strange and savage doings at the Wild West camp.

The afternoon of Good Friday, the consent of the directors of the Manchester race-track having been obtained, a series of open-air horse races and athletic sports was performed by the members of the company—red and white—which included hurdle-races, bareback horsemanship, etc. Notwithstanding very inclement weather during the earlier part of the day, an attendance of nearly 30,000 was recorded, and the weather cleared up and kept fine during the progress of the sports.

During this visit to Manchester the Freemasons of the district treated Colonel Cody with marked hospitality, and he was a frequent visitor at their lodges. A mark of especial honor from this occult and powerful body was a public presentation to him of a magnificent gold watch in the name of the Freemasons of England. The season in Manchester was a grand success in every way, and the people had begun to regard the institution as a permanency among them; but their engagements in the land of the stars and stripes were as fixed and unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Persians, and on Monday evening, May 1st, was given the last indoor representation in Manchester. The occasion was a perfect ovation. On Tuesday afternoon a benefit was tendered Colonel Cody by the race-course people. An outdoor performance was given, and despite the unfavorable weather the turn-stiles showed that nearly 50,000 people had paid admission to the grounds. Thus ended the Wild West performances in Manchester.

On Friday morning, May 4th, at 11 A. M., amid the cheers, well-wishes, and handshaking of a vast crowd, the Wild West left Manchester by special train for Hull, where the last performance in England was given on the afternoon of Saturday, May 5th, and at 9 o’clock on that evening the entire effects of the monster aggregation were aboard the good ship Persian Monarch, upon which vessel, under the command of the brave, gallant, and courteous Captain Bristow, the Wild West left for New York the next morning at 3 o’clock. On the homeward voyage Colonel Cody’s favorite horse Charlie died. For fifteen years he had ridden Charlie in sunshine and in storm, in days of adversity as well as prosperity, and to this noble animal’s fleetness of foot Colonel Cody owed his life on more than one occasion when pursued by Indians.

During the night of May 19th, the Persian Monarch arrived off New York harbor, and by daylight of the 20th steamed up toward Staten Island, where they were to debark.

The arrival of this vessel, outside of the company’s reception, was an event of future commercial importance to the port of New York, from the fact of her being the first passenger-ship of her size, draught, and class to effect a landing (at Bechtel’s wharf) directly on the shores of Staten Island, thus demonstrating the marine value of some ten miles of seashore of what in a few short years must be a part of the greater New York.

Upon the arrival of this giant combination at its home, it would seem that a long and undisturbed rest would have been natural and consequent. Such, however, was not to be the case. The master-mind concluded that it would be well to show to his own countrymen what manner of exhibition it was that had accomplished such wonderful results on its visit to Albion. A summer season was inaugurated at Erastina, S. I., and New York followed. In this latter city Colonel Cody originated, at Madison Square Garden, the now popular and much-copied idea of leviathan spectacle. Visits respectively to Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington followed, and this remarkable exhibition closed, at the Richmond, Va., exposition, a wonderful and uninterrupted season which had begun two years and seven months before at St. Louis, Mo. Faithful to his promises, and following his invariable custom, Colonel Cody saw that all his people, from the Texan cowboy and the Mexican vacquero to the Sioux warrior of Dakota, had safe and pleasant conduct to their homes. The realistic story of America had been told in the mother country, and the interest of Continental Europe had also been awakened. The returning red man, cowboy, and Mexican had had experiences and learned lessons the value of which it is impossible to compute, and the influence of which must perforce permeate their entire lives and broaden their thought and moral nature, leading to results of unbounded possibilities. The cowboy by the camp-fire of his prairie home, the vacquero among his companions in Mexico’s mountains, and the red man in his lodge and with his people, had wonderful tales to tell during the winter nights of their well-earned resting-spell.

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CHAPTER XXVI.
SWINGING AROUND EUROPE.

This man of many parts, this unique exemplification of the possibilities of human intellectual and physical development and progress, had now passed through successive, and with all truth it can be said, successful, gradations from the illiterate urchin of the rough cabin on the plains to a great practical educator; and the lessons taught in his magnificently illustrated lectures had for their object the welding together of human interests and the enlarging of the mutual sympathies of nations. I am aware that the selfish, captious, and narrow-minded may see in the exhibitions and travels of the Wild West under Colonel Cody’s leadership simply a scheme for personal aggrandizement or for the accumulation of great wealth. With the same foundation for truth, might not these same unworthy motives be attributed to the magnetic Edison, whose discoveries and inventions have startled the world into a wondering recognition of electric power? to Stanley, through whose terrible trials, weary wanderings, and persevering persistency the heart of Africa has been laid bare to scientific and humane investigation? to Humboldt and scores of other world-instructors? Such unworthy commentators, to whose eyes all advancement in knowledge is veneered with a base coating of selfish aims, are unworthy of serious consideration.

In pursuance of a resolve made during his visit to England in 1887, Colonel Cody, in the spring preceding the Paris Exposition, set all of his able lieutenants and coadjutors to work preparing another Wild West for a trip to the French capital, thence through Continental Europe, and, after another visit to Old England, back to dear America. Under the spell of their leader’s energetic and systematic direction, these trusted assistants soon had all things in complete readiness, and once again on board the majestic Persian Monarch, and under the care of that able seaman and popular officer Captain Bristow, the Wild West was launched upon “the briny,” for Paris bound.

The Wild West camp in Paris was pitched on immense grounds near the Porte Maillot, and the welcome extended to the Americans by the people of the sister republic was hearty, spontaneous, and grand. It was said that the audience which assembled on the occasion of the opening exhibition equaled any known in the record of premières of that brilliant capitale des deux mondes. Early in the performance the vast audience became thoroughly enthusiastic, and every act attracted the closest attention and the most absorbing interest. It was evident that the novel and startling display had won the fullest approval of the experienced sight-seers of the gay capital; and in France audiences rarely if ever take the middle ground. With them approval or commendation comes promptly and is quickly manifested, and the immediate triumph of the Wild West was a subject of hearty congratulation. As in England upon his first appearance there Colonel Cody was welcomed by those highest in authority and honor, so in France the initial performance was graced by the presence of the notables of the republic. President Carnot and wife, the members of his cabinet, and families; two American ministers, Hon. Whitelaw Reid, Hon. Louis MacLean; the Diplomatic Corps, officers of the United States Marine, and other prominent personages were among the auditors. It was an audience thoroughly representative of science, art, literature, and society, and the Wild West soon became second only in public interest to the great Exhibition itself. Colonel Cody soon became the recipient of especial social courtesies, the first of which was a breakfast given in his honor on May 29th by the Vicomtesse Chaudon de Briailles, at which the haut ton of Paris was present. In recognition of the courtesy of the Minister of War in granting the Wild West the use of a large tract of land in the military district, Colonel Cody invited fifty soldiers of the garrison of Paris to visit the show each day, a courtesy that was duly appreciated.

Among the many incidents that occurred in Paris may be noted the fact that Isabella, ex-Queen of Spain, with her companions enjoyed a ride in the famous old Deadwood stagecoach.

Altogether the Wild West’s visit to Paris, which lasted seven months, was a most thorough and emphatic success, and closed in a blaze of glory.

It may seem strange to claim that the Wild West abroad was an incentive to the introduction of American subjects for art illustration; but the facts strongly warrant the assertion.

It became a fad to introduce curios and bijouterie from the American plains and mountains. Buffalo robes of Indian tanning, bear-skins embroidered with porcupine quills, and mats woven in redskin camps became fashionable; while lassos, bows and arrows, Mexican bridles and saddles, and other things from the American borderland became most popular as souvenirs.

ROSA BONHEUR’S PAINTING, “BUFFALO BILL ON HORSEBACK.”

Nor was this all, for the artists took a turn at producing American scenes, characters, and animals, and the Indian and cowboy were chiseled in marble. Busts were made of Buffalo Bill, the illustrated papers were full of pictures of the Wild West and its characters, and the comic papers were constantly caricaturing Cody and his people, some of their work being remarkably clever and artistic in execution.

Invited to the studios of artists in Rome, Berlin, Paris, and elsewhere, Buffalo Bill extended the courtesies of his camp to many whose names are known the world over by their works. The Wild West became a central place of attraction to artists as well as to military men and statesmen, and often painters and sculptors were seen going about the camp looking for subjects for their brush and chisel.

Having accepted an invitation from Rosa Bonheur to visit her at her elegant chateau, Buffalo Bill in turn extended the hospitalities of his camp to the famous artist, who day after day visited it and made studies for her pleasure, giving much time to sittings for a painting of Colonel Cody.

The result was the superb painting that attracted so much comment abroad, and which she presented to the great frontiersman, who prizes it above all the souvenirs he has in his charming home at North Platte, where it holds the place of honor.

The painting represents Buffalo Bill mounted upon his favorite horse, and it is needless to say that where both man and animal are portraits, it is a work of art coming from such a hand as that of Rosa Bonheur. The fact of uniting man and beast in a painting, giving each equal prominence, was never before done, I believe, by this great artist, yet her hand did not lose its cunning in departing from the rule of her life, as all can testify who have seen this superb picture.

INDIANS UNDER THE SHADOW OF ST. PETER’S, ROME.

With America as a vast and grand field for the brushes of English and European artists, there is little doubt that hereafter the foreign academies will possess many works on American scenes and characters; and with the example thus set them our own artists will find in their own country material enough to prevent their going to other lands to get artistic inspiration.

After a short tour in the south of France in the fall, a vessel was chartered at Marseilles, the Mediterranean crossed at Barcelona, landing the first band of Americans with accompanying associates, scouts, cowboys, Mexican horses of Spanish descent, and wild buffaloes, etc., on the very spot where on his return to Spain landed the world’s greatest explorer Christopher Columbus. Here the patrons were demonstratively eulogistic, the exhibition seeming to delight them greatly, savoring as it did of an addenda to their national history; recalling after a lapse of 400 years the resplendent glories of Spanish conquests under Ferdinand and Isabella, of the sainted hero Cristobal Colon (1492), Columbus in America (1890), “Buffalo Bill” and the native American in Spain!

Recrossing the Mediterranean via Corsica and Sardinia (encountering a tremendous storm), Naples (the placid waters of whose noble bay gave a welcome refuge) was reached, and in the shadow of old Vesuvius, which in fact formed a superbly grand scenic background, another peg in history was pinned by the visit of the cowboy and Indian to the various noted localities that here abound; the ruins of Herculaneum, Pompeii, and the great crater of “the burning mountain” striking wonder and awe as well as giving geological and geographical knowledge to the stoical “red man.”

Then the “famed of the famous cities” of the world, Rome, was next visited, to be conquered through the gentle power of intellectual interest in, and the reciprocal pleasure exchanged by, its unusual visitors; the honor being given to “the outfit,” as an organization, of attending a dazzling fête given in the Vatican by his holiness Pope Leo XIII., and of receiving the exalted pontiff’s blessing. The grandeur of the spectacle, the heavenly music, the entrancing singing, and impressive adjuncts produced a most profound impression on the astonished children of the prairie. The Wild West in the Vatican!

The company were photographed in the Coliseum, which stately ruin seemed silently and solemnly to regret that its famed ancient arena was too small for this modern exhibition of the mimic struggle between that civilization born and emanating from ’neath its very walls, and a primitive people who were ne’er dreamed of in Rome’s world-conquering creators’ wildest flights of vivid imaginings.

Strolling through its arena, gazing at its lions’ dens, or lolling lazily on its convenient ruins, hearing its interpreted history of Romulus, of Cæsar, and of Nero, roamed this band of Wild West Sioux (a people whose history in barbaric deeds equals, if not excels, the ancient Romans’), now hand-in-hand in peace and firmly cemented friendship with the American frontiersman, once gladiatorial antagonists on the Western plains. They, listening to the tale, on the spot, of those whose “morituri te salutant” was the short prelude to a savage death, formed a novel picture in a historic frame. The Wild West in the Coliseum!

CAMPED IN THE COLISEUM.

The following extracts from cablegrams sent to the New York Herald by its special correspondent, tell of interesting occurrences that happened during the visit of the Wild West to the historic city of Rome:

Rome, March 4, 1890.

All Rome was to-day astir over an attempt of Buffalo Bill’s cowboys with wild horses, which were provided for the occasion by the Prince of Sermoneta.

Several days past the Roman authorities have been busy with the erection of specially cut barriers for the purpose of keeping back the wild horses from the crowds.

The animals are from the celebrated stud of the Prince of Sermoneta, and the prince himself declared that no cowboy in the world could ride these horses. The cowboys laughed over this surmise and then offered at least to undertake to mount one of them, if they might choose it.

Every man, woman, and child expected that two or three people would be killed by this attempt.

The anxiety and enthusiasm was great. Over 2,000 carriages were ranged round the field and more than 20,000 people lined the spacious barriers. Lord Dufferin and many other diplomatists were on the terrace, and among Romans were presently seen the consort of the Prime Minister Crispi, the Prince of Torlonia, Madame Depretis, Princess Collona, Gravina Antonelli, the Baroness Reugis, Princess Brancaccia, Grave Giannotti, and critics from among the highest aristocracy.

In five minutes the horses were tamed.

Two of the wild horses were driven without saddle or bridle in the arena. Buffalo Bill gave out that they would be tamed. The brutes made springs into the air, darted hither and thither in all directions, and bent themselves into all sorts of shapes—but all in vain.

In five minutes the cowboys had caught the wild horses with the lasso, saddled, subdued, and bestrode them. Then the cowboys rode them round the arena, while the dense crowds of people applauded with delight.

THE ARENA IN VERONA.

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BUFFALO BILL IN VENICE.

(By Telegraph, New York Herald.)

Venice, April 16, 1890.

Buffalo Bill and his Wild West have made a big show in Venice. This evening the directors have a special invitation on the Grand Canal, where the whole troupe will be shown. Colonel Cody is taken by the Venetian prefect in his own private residence. No one can think them ordinary artistes after they have seen the gathering of different Indians in gondolas, or seen the wonderful sight which presents itself at the Venetian palace and in the little steamboats that ply between the pier of St. Mark and the railway station.

Thousands of Venetians assembled yesterday in Verona, where the company of the municipal authorities of justice have allowed the use of the amphitheater, or the so-called arena, one of the most interesting structures of Italy, and a rival of the Coliseum of Rome itself.

Forty-five thousand persons can conveniently find sitting-room in this arena, and for standing-room there is also extensive space. As his royal highness Victor Emanuel was on a visit here once, 60,000 people were accommodated in it. It is, perhaps, interesting to know that this building is the largest in the world, although the Wild West Show quite filled it.

The amphitheater (arena) was built in the year 290 A. D., under Diocletian, and is known in Germany as the Home of the Dietrich of Bern. It is 106 feet high, 168 meters long, and 134 meters broad (the arena itself is 83 meters long, 48 meters broad); the circumference is 525 meters. In the surrounding amphitheater (entering by the west side through arch No. 5, admission 1 franc, Sunday free), are five-and-forty rows of steps 18 inches high, 26 inches broad, built of gray, or rather reddish-yellow, limestone, where nearly 20,000 spectators can find places, and where many more people can see by standing on the wooden benches behind them. From an inscription on the second story it will be remembered that Napoleon I. visited this place in 1805. The restoration of the building was by recommendation of that emperor. A wonderful view is obtained from the higher steps.

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THE WILD WEST AT THE VATICAN.—BUFFALO BILL’S INDIANS AND COWBOYS AT THE ANNIVERSARY CEREMONY OF LEO XIII.

New York Herald, March 4, 1890.—(From our Special Correspondent.)

Rome, March 3d.

One of the strangest spectacles ever seen within the walls of the Vatican was the dramatic entry of Buffalo Bill at the head of his Indians and cowboys this morning, when the ecclesiastical and secular military court of the Holy See assembled to witness the twelfth annual thanksgiving of Leo XIII. for his coronation. In the midst of the splendid scene, crowded with the old Roman aristocracy and surrounded by walls immortalized by Michael Angelo and Raphael, there suddenly appeared a host of savages in war-paint, feathers, and blankets, carrying tomahawks and knives.

A vast multitude surged in the great square before St. Peter’s early in the morning to witness the arrival of the Americans. Before half-past 9 o’clock the Ducal Hall, Royal Hall, and Sistine Chapel of the Vatican were packed with those who had influence enough to obtain admittance. Through the middle of the three audiences the pathway was bordered with the brilliant uniforms of the Swiss Guards, Palatine Guards, papal gendarmes, and private chamberlains. The sunlight fell upon the lines of glittering steel, nodding plumes, golden chains, shimmering robes of silk, and all the blazing emblems of pontifical power and glory.

THE WILD WEST MAKE THEIR ENTRÉE.

Suddenly a tall and chivalrous figure appeared at the entrance, and all eyes were turned toward him. It was Col. W. F. Cody, “Buffalo Bill.” With a sweep of his great sombrero he saluted the chamberlains, and then strode between the guards with his partner, Mr. Nate Salsbury, by his side.

Rocky Bear led the Sioux warriors, who brought up the rear. They were painted in every color that Indian imagination could devise. Every man carried something with which to make big medicine in the presence of the great medicine man sent by the great spirit.

Rocky Bear rolled his eyes and folded his hands on his breast as he stepped on tiptoe through the glowing sea of color. His braves furtively eyed the halbreds and two-handed swords of the Swiss Guards.

The Indians and cowboys were ranged in the south corners of the Ducal Hall. Colonel Cody and Mr. Salsbury were escorted into the Sistine Chapel by chamberlains, where they were greeted by Miss Sherman, daughter of General Sherman. A princess invited Colonel Cody to a place in the tribune of the Roman nobles.

He stood facing the gorgeous Diplomatic Corps, surrounded by the Prince and Princess Borghesi, the Marquis Serlupi, Princess Bandini, Duchess di Grazioli, Prince and Princess Massimo, Prince and Princess Ruspoli, and all the ancient noble families of the city.

THE PAPAL BLESSING.

When the Pope appeared in the sedia gestatoria, carried above the heads of his guards, preceded by the Knights of Malta and a procession of cardinals and archbishops, the cowboys bowed, and so did the Indians. Rocky Bear knelt and made the sign of the cross. The pontiff leaned affectionately toward the rude groups and blessed them. He seemed to be touched by the sight.

As the papal train swept on the Indians became excited, and a squaw fainted. They had been warned not to utter a sound, and were with difficulty restrained from whooping. The Pope looked at Colonel Cody intently as he passed, and the great scout and Indian fighter bent low as he received the pontifical benediction.

After the thanksgiving mass, with its grand choral accompaniment and now and then the sound of Leo XIII.’s voice heard ringing through the chapel, the great audience poured out of the Vatican.

POPE LEO XIII.

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Among the many verses written of and to the noted scout, the following may be given as a poet’s idea of his visit to Rome:

BUFFALO BILL AND THE ROMANS.

I’ll take my stalwart Indian braves
Down to the Coliseum,
And the old Romans from their graves
Will all arise to see ’em;
Pretors and censors will return
And hasten through the Forum,
The ghostly Senate will adjourn
Because it lacks a quorum.

And up the ancient Appian way
Will flock the ghostly legions,
From Gaul unto Calabria,
And from remoter regions;
From British bog and wild lagoon,
And Libyan desert sandy,
They’ll all come, marching to the tune
Of “Yankee Doodle Dandy.”

Prepare the triumph car for me
And purple throne to sit on,
For I’ve done more than Julius C.—
He could not down the Briton!
Cæsar and Cicero shall bow,
And ancient warriors famous,
Before the myrtle-bandaged brow
Of Buffalo Williamus.

We march, unwhipped, through history—
No bulwark can detain us—
And link the age of Grover C.
And Scipio Africanus.
I’ll take my stalwart Indian braves
Down to the Coliseum,
And the old Romans from their graves
Will all arise to see ’em.

Artistic Florence, practical Bologna, grand and stately Milan, and unique Verona were next added to the list. Verona’s superb and well-preserved Arena, excelling in superficial area the Coliseum and holding 45,000 people, was especially granted for the Wild West’s use. The Indians were taken by Buffalo Bill to picturesque Venice, and there shown the marvelous results of the ancient white man’s energy and artistic architectural skill. They were immortalized by the camera in the ducal palace, St. Marc’s Piazza, and in the strange street vehicle of the Adriatic’s erstwhile pride—the gondola; contributing another interesting object lesson to the distant juvenile student members of their tribe, to testify more fully to their puzzled senses the fact of strange sights and marvels whose existence is to be learned in the breadth of knowledge.

BUFFALO BILL AND HIS INDIANS IN VENICE.

Moving via Innsbruck through the beautifully scenic Tyrol, the Bavarian capital, Munich, with its naturally artistic instincts, gave a grand reception to the beginning of a marvelously successful tour through German land, which included Vienna (with an excursion on the “Blue Danube”), Berlin, Dresden, Leipsic, Magdeburg, Hanover, Brunswick, Hamburg, Bremen, Dusseldorf, Cologne, along the Rhine past Bonn, Coblentz, “Fair Bingen on the Rhine,” to Frankfort, Stuttgart, and Strasburg. These historic cities, with all their wealth of legendary interest, art galleries, scientific conservatories, educative edifices, cathedrals, modern palaces, ancient ruins, army maneuverings, fortifications, commercial and varied manufacturing and agricultural industries, and the social, genial, friendly, quiet customs of its peoples, should form good instruction to the rugged rovers of the American plains—heirs to an empire as much more vast in extent and resources as is the brightness of the diamond—after the skill expended by the lapidary—in dazzling brilliancy to the rude, unpolished stone before man’s industry lends value to its existence.

At Strasburg the management decided to close temporarily this extraordinary tour and winter the company. Although in the proximity of points contemplated for a winter campaign (southern France and the Riviera), this was deemed advisable on account of the first and only attack from envious humanity that the organization had encountered. This matter necessitated the manly but expensive voluntary procedure of taking the Indians to America to meet face to face and deny the imputations of some villifiers, whom circumstances of petty political “charity” and “I-am-ism” and native buoyancy permit at times to float temporarily on the surface of a cosmopolite community, and to whose ravings a too credulous public and press give hearing.

The quaint little village of Benfield furnished an ancient nunnery and a castle with stables and good range. Here the little community of Americans spent the winter comfortably, being feasted and fêted by the inhabitants, whose esteem they gained to such an extent that their departure was marked by a general holiday, assisting hands, and such public demonstrations of regret that many a rude cowboy when once again careering o’er the pampas of Texas will rest his weary steed while memory reverts to the pleasant days and whole-souled friendships cemented at the foot of the Vosges Mountains in disputed Alsace-Lorraine.

In Alsace-Lorraine! whose anomalous position menaces the peace not only of the two countries interested but of the civilized world; whose situation makes it intensely even sadly interesting as the theater of that future human tragedy for which the ear of mankind strains day and night, listening for detonations from the muzzles of the acme of invented mechanisms of destruction. The lurid-garbed Angel of Devastation hovers, careering through the atmosphere of the seemingly doomed valley, gaily laughing, shrieking exultingly, at the white-robed Angel of Peace as the latter gloomily wanders, prayerful, tearful, hopelessly hunting, ceaselessly seeking, the return of modern man’s boasted newly created gods—Equity, Justice, Reason!

What a field for the vaunted champions of humanity, the leaders of civilization! What a neighborhood wherein to sow the seeds of “peace on earth and good-will to men.” What a crucible for the universal panacea, arbitration! What a test of the efficacy of prayer in damming up the conflicting torrents of ambition, cupidity, passion, and revenge, which threaten to color crimson the swift current of the Rhine, until its renown as the home of wealth and luxury be eclipsed by eternal notoriety as the Valley of Death!

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CHAPTER XXVII.
THE LAST INDIAN WAR.

Leaving the temporary colony under the charge of his director-partner Mr. Nate Salsbury (whose energy found occupation in attending to the details of the future), Colonel Cody and the Indians departed for America, arriving safely, and after refuting satisfactorily, by the Indians themselves, the base slanders that emanated in the imagination of notoriety-seeking busy-bodies, proceeded to the seat of the Indian difficulties in the distant State of Dakota.

State of Nebraska
Executive Department

General W.F. Cody.

Lincoln January 6th 1891.
Rushville. Nebraska.

My Dear General.

As you are a member of my Staff, I have detailed you for special service; the particular nature of which, was made known during our conversation.

You will proceed to the scene of the Indian troubles, and communicate with General Miles.

You will in addition to the special service refered to, please visit the different towns, if time permit, along the line of the Elkhorn Rail-Road, and use your influence to quiet excitement and remove apprehensions upon the part of the people.

Please call upon General Colby, and give him your views as to the probability of the Indians breaking through the cordon of regular troops; your superior knowledge of Indian character and mode of warfare, may enable you to make suggestions of importance.

All Officers and members of the State Troops, and all others, will please extend to you every courtesy.

In testimony whereof,

John M. Thayer,
Governor.

In this campaign against the Indians Buffalo Bill rendered valuable services and was ordered to the command of General Colby of the National Guard of the State of Nebraska, and to report to General Miles, the commander-in-chief.

His authority for going to the front is shown by the accompanying appointment and order from the governor.

Had the Indian uprising broken out into a general war, Buffalo Bill would have had the opportunity to show the world what he could do as a general officer, handling a number of men in action; but fortunately the splendidly conceived and executed maneuvers of General Miles, the commander-in-chief, prevented the outbreak from extending to all the tribes, and put down the rebellious savages with little bloodshed, thus saving a long and cruel war upon the frontier.

The letter given herewith from General Miles, at the conclusion of the campaign, shows the appreciation by General Miles of Buffalo Bill’s services, and which met the general approbation of the press of the country, many correspondents being upon the field; while Colonel Cody’s telegrams to the New York Herald and Sun give a most thorough explanation of the situation.