He lived in the Black Hills for only a few short weeks and obviously was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Because he had the misfortune to be murdered in Deadwood, the name of Wild Bill Hickok was forever after integrally associated with that lawless l876 gold rush camp.

When he left Cheyenne for the Black Hills in June of 1876, James Butler Hickok left behind a new bride, Agnes Lake Thatcher, widow of a circus owner whom he had married on March 5. His letter to her, written the day before he was shot while playing cards in a Deadwood saloon, suggested he might have had a premonition of his rapidly approaching demise:

Agnes Darling, if such should be we never meet again, while firing my last shot, I will gently breathe the name of my wife---Agnes---and with wishes even for my enemies I will make the plunge and try to swim to the other shore.

By the time the 39-year-old Hickok accompanied Charlie Utter's wagon train to Deadwood, he had already led an adventurous life as an army scout and spy, wagonmaster, gunfighter and lawman. However, most of his real exploits were greatly exaggerated by Ned Buntline and other dime novelists more concerned with sensational stories than accuracy. And when film makers began producing western movies decades after his death, the real Wild Bill was sacrificed on the altar of box office gods.

Well aware his reputation as a mankiller had preceded him to Deadwood, Hickok was attempting to lead a quiet, reasonably respectable life in the wild mining camp. But his two greatest failings---gambling and liquor---led him into the rough saloons lining the main street of the narrow gulch. Friends in other towns had observed that Wild Bill "would rather indulge in poker than eat" and would "gamble the shirt off his back."

Samuel Henry, a young man in Abilene when Hickok was marshal, noted the lawman's card playing habits:

His whole bearing was like that of a hunted tiger---restless eyes, which nervously looked about him in all directions closely scrutinizing every stranger. When he played cards, which he did most of the time in the saloons, he sat in the corner of the room to prevent an enemy from stealing up behind him.

Gambling opponents in Deadwood Gulch also noted Hickok's idiosyncrasies---not only did he insist on sitting with his back to the wall, he held cards and drinks in his left hand, leaving his right hand free to grab for his hip-slung pistols.

On the evening of August 1, 1876, Hickok played in Deadwood with a man calling himself Bill Sutherland. The man (whose name was actually John McCall) lost. Wild Bill generously gave him back enough money to buy breakfast, but advised him not to play again until he could cover his losses. Some researchers have suggested it wasn't the first time McCall had come up short of paying his gambling debts.

When Wild Bill entered Nuttall & Mann's hall the following afternoon he found Charlie Rich sitting in his preferred seat. After some hesitation, Wild Bill joined the game, reluctantly seating himself with his back to the door and the bar---a fatal mistake. The assassin had a rare opportunity to approach the famed gunslinger from the rear.

The local newspaper covered the story:

On Wednesday about three o'clock the report was started that J. B. Hickok (Wild Bill) was killed. On repairing to the hall of Nuttall & Mann it was ascertained that the report was too true. We found the remains of Wild Bill lying on the floor. The murderer, Jack McCall, was captured after a lively chase by many of our citizens. ... a coroner's jury was summoned ... evidence was to the effect that while Wild Bill and others were seated at a table playing cards, Jack McCall walked in and around directly back of his victim and when within three feet of him raised his revolver, and exclaiming, "Damn you take that," he fired, the ball entering at the back of the head and coming out at the center of the right cheek, causing instant death.

As Hickok collapsed on the floor, the cards from his last poker game fell from his relaxing grasp.

After dark that evening, 16-year-old John Beuter crept close to the tent shared by Wild Bill and Colorado Charlie. In the lantern light he saw Ellis ("Doc") Peirce washing blood from the long wavy hair. "Wild Bill was the prettiest corpse I have ever seen," Peirce said. "His long moustache was attractive, even in death, and his long tapering fingers looked like marble."

In Pioneer Days in the Black Hills, John S. McClintock said he didn't witness the killing but was on the street when McCall was captured and marched up the street "in the custody of three or four men with a good-sized crowd following."

As he passed me on the street, I made a close survey of him. ... I now remember him as being below average height and stoutly built, wearing buckskin pants and moccasins and a sombrero fully eighteen inches in width ... pulled down close over his eyes. At best he was a repulsive looking individual.

At 9 a.m. Thursday the jury panel was selected with a Kansas City newspaperman, Charles Whitehead, as foreman. Judge W. L. Kuykendall served as judge; Colonel George May as prosecutor and "Judge" Miller represented the defense. McCall, in a "harsh, loud and repulsive voice" claimed he'd shot Wild Bill in revenge for killing his brother and would "do the same thing over again."

In less than two hours the jury returned a "not guilty" verdict that evoked sardonic comment in the local newspaper: "Should it ever be our misfortune to kill a man ... we would simply ask that our trial may take place in some of the mining camps of these hills."

McCall loitered about town for several days, until California Joe strongly suggested the air might be bad for his health. McCall got the message. Believing he'd escaped punishment for his crime, McCall went up the line bragging he had killed the famous gunman. He was arrested in Laramie on August 29, charged with the murder and taken to Yankton to stand trial.

Lorenzo Butler Hickok traveled from Illinois to attend the trial of his brother's murderer and was gratified by the guilty verdict. On March 1, 1877, Jack McCall was put to death by hanging.

Deadwood claimed Wild Bill for its own. The entire population of gulch, prospectors to prostitutes, followed his funeral procession to "boot hill." Charlie Utter placed a wooden marker on the grave inscribed:

Colorado Charlie, C. H. Utter

As the town grew, the Ingleside Cemetery was incorporated in the fourth ward and bodies were moved to the new Mount Moriah cemetery higher up the hill. McClintock described the removal of Wild Bill's body:

... Colorado Charlie returned to Deadwood and on the third of September, he, with this writer and Lewis Schoenfield ... went with a team and spring wagon to the grave of Wild Bill .... took up the body and transferred it to the new grave. Here the box was opened and the lid of the casket removed. The body down to the hips was exposed. To our great astonishment it appeared to be in a perfect state of preservation. Being perfectly white, it seemed to have a coat of lime finish. ... the body appeared to be solid, petrified ... it was my belief that it was the result of a natural embalming by percolation of water containing embalming substances, depositing these in the tissues of the body.

British author Joseph Rosa has been researching the Hickok legend for more than 40 years. His books (They Called Him Wild Bill, The West of Wild Bill Hickok and Wild Bill Hickok: The Man and His Myth) meticulously sift fact from fiction.

The number of notches on Wild Bill's guns were part of the myth, according to Rosa. The true total of men he killed in gunfights is closer to 10, rather than the 21 to more than 100 he has been credited with, Rosa writes.

Like all other serious historians, Rosa debunks stories of a romance with Calamity Jane. Known to be a notorious liar, Martha Jane Cannary claimed the relationship only after Wild Bill couldn't defend himself. Almost 27 years to the day after Wild Bill's death, Calamity Jane died and, by her request, was buried in an adjoining lot.

The fifth card in the "Deadman's Hand" (two pair---black aces and eights) has been the subject of speculation for years, variously identified as the queen of diamonds, nine of diamonds, a jack, or (in another version of the story) the fifth card hadn't been dealt. Newspaper accounts written immediately after the shooting make no mention of specific cards held by Wild Bill. It wasn't until many years later Ellis Peirce wrote: "Bill's hand read aces and eights---two pair, and since that day aces and eights have been known as 'the deadman's hand' in the Western country."

It didn't make any difference to Wild Bill. He couldn't take his winnings with him to boot hill. And the thousands of tourists who visit his grave probably aren't too concerned about such details either. They simply enjoy hearing stories of the uninhibited characters from Deadwood's untamed past.

Captain Jack Crawford, who scouted with Wild Bill before they both followed the gold rush to Deadwood, eulogized his friend:

... He never wantonly took human life. .... there is no instance on record where he shed blood except in defence of his own life or in the line of duty as a peace officer. ... when a man has made a reputation as a "killer," there are numerous cranks and whiskey-crazed would-be "bad men" who seek to "do him up" just for the notoriety to be gained for having "killed a killer." Bill Hickok's life was ever menaced, and on several occasions his quick eye and dexterity in handling the six shooter alone prevented his mortal light from being snuffed out.

... Wild Bill had his faults, grievous ones, perhaps ... He would get drunk, gamble, and indulge in the general licentiousness characteristic of the border in the early days, yet even when full of the vile libel of the name of whiskey which was dealt over the bars at exorbitant prices, he was gentle as a child, unless aroused to anger by intended insults. Even in his rage he had wonderful control of his temper, and rarely permitted himself to get into unnecessary trouble. He was loyal in his friendship, generous to a fault, and invariably espoused the cause of the weaker against the stronger one in a quarrel. DM

Wild Bill gets shot again (and again and again and again) in Deadwood every day this summer. Four free-admission shows (at 1, 3, 5 and 7 p.m.) at the Old Style Saloon No. 10 re-enact the fatal poker game with James West of Cody, Wyoming, in the starring role. And every evening except Sunday, sheriff's deputies pursue and capture Jack McCall on historic Main Street. The crowd follows the actors to Old Town Hall where the Trial of Jack McCall takes place. The tradition of audience participation, whip-cracking Calamity Jane and "lousy" Alkali Ike has entertained audiences for more than 60 years. Based on a farce first presented in 1876, the melodrama was introduced as part of the 1928 Days of '76 celebration and has been produced every summer season since the 1930s.