An acclaimed author, a leading historian of the American frontier, has written a latest volume titled Partners in the West, which explores the lives of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday. He states displeasure with the oft-quoted line from a iconic western: “When the tale becomes truth, print the tale.”
“Every researcher cites it, they just repeat it endlessly,” he remarks lightheartedly. “And it’s really not true. I wrote a story. I hope people to be absorbed in the period, but I just get so tired of that line. The folklore is legend. It doesn't become truth. People can retell the myth but it can't make it truth.”
In Tombstone, Arizona, on October 26, 1881, Wyatt Earp and Holliday were participated in a shootout that came to be known as the Tombstone gunfight. Joined by Earp’s brothers, the two faced the rustlers, members sought for crime and stealing. In under 60 seconds, three gang members were slain and Holliday was injured, as were Virgil and Morgan Earp.
Although being one of countless frontier scraps between lawmen and criminals, it entered folklore, largely thanks to famous pictures including My Darling Clementine and another renowned film.
“A lot of what we know about it is provable,” he remarked of the real shootout and its sequels. “But I repeatedly go back to one of the most insightful remarks, and it’s a very plain statement. A dressmaker, who witnessed the shootout, remarked: ‘I don’t know. All was confusion.’”
Even the people there had varying stories. Testimony from the investigation is additionally confusing. Witnesses who were allies of the Cowboys were dishonest, and every story is slightly unique. It’s uncommon when a person concurs on anything.
“Everything was chaotic.” – Addie Borland
“Including the participants there were uncertain,” Gardner continues. “So it’s truly hard to determine it, and it occurred in 30 seconds.”
The lawman survived into the film age, dying in 1929 at the age of eight decades. Originally depicted on a silent film screen in the 1920s, he later became the subject of significant classic westerns. In relatively modern decades, he has been portrayed by a star in Tombstone and a leading man in a biographical film.
Gardner delves through such legend-building to reveal the men below. His books span the range of the American frontier, from the famous outlaw and Pat Garrett to the notorious bandit.
Hailing in Monmouth, Illinois in the mid-19th century, Wyatt was underage to fight in the the war, though he attempted to do so. When he was two decades old, he became a law officer in Lamar, Missouri. Missteps were committed. Earp faced a calamity with the demise of his wife, Urilla, from disease in the 1870s. Afterward, as an officer, Earp kept public funds he gathered.
“We do not know why he kept it,” Gardner states. “He escapes, and ends up in Indian Territory. He’s arrested for taking a animal, and then he’s in his home, and he’s managing a bawdy house. In time he goes back out West, and he ends up in Wichita, Kansas.”
Despite his checkered history, Wyatt shone as a peace officer. Local papers praised him repeatedly. In one example, he arrested a intoxicated man who had money on him. He secured the money for the man and gave it back when he freed him from confinement.
The historian emphasizes the clear distinction between the two. Wyatt was aspiring, wanting to advance himself and achieve offices like sheriff. Doc, hailing in Georgia in 1851, was a professional turned gambler. Unlike Earp, he didn't show indicators of establishing roots.
“Doc just moves from one gambling place to the next,” the author notes. “He never really evolve. And some of that’s his addiction to gambling. Part of that is tuberculosis, coping with that and self-medicating, whether it’s with alcohol or eventually medicine.”
The new book demonstrates a compelling facet of the American West: the friction between order and crime, and the endeavors of officials to exert rule over newly forming communities. The degree of bureaucracy that resulted from a gunfight – proceedings, testimonies, directives for compensation – might astonish those versed with romanticized versions of the era.
Moreover, Earp and Doc were entangled in divisive factional conflicts. Earp was a a conservative, while Tombstone lawman Johnny Behan was a Democrat, creating a competition for control and authority.
Finally, the historian refuses to romanticize these men. Wyatt and Holliday spent years on each side
A tech enthusiast and consumer advocate with over a decade of experience testing and reviewing products across various categories.