In the late 1800’s ,things were changing fast and America’s population, especially those living East of the Mississippi River, but newspapers of the day were instrumental in arousing the public’s curiosity of life in America’s Wild West””.
The period of the Wild West was from 1865 – 1895, a period of thirty years.
The ‘Wild West’ was famous for cowboys, native Indians, lawmen, gunslingers, pioneers, prospectors, and scouts, -images some American’s hold dear, and few people did more to nourish their image, than William Cody, known later as “Buffalo Bill”.
For three decades, he operated and appeared in various incarnations of “the western world’s greatest traveling attraction,” enthralling audiences around the globe.
His show of Wild West performances played to sold out audiences in the United States, but Europeans, also were captivated by stories of the American West.
When the show reached Europe, it was a sensation, and ignited “Wild West fever,” by offering what was claimed to be, a genuine experience of the American frontier.
It was a rare honor. Queen Victoria occasionally summoned actors to perform at Windsor Palace, but she seldom made public appearances, after the death of her husband, Prince Albert, 26 years earlier, in 1861.
“She came to the show in a big shining wagon, and there were soldiers on both sides of her,” Black Elk remembered.
“That day, other people could not come to the show—just Grandmother England and some people who came with her.”
- Buffalo Bill’s Lakota “Indians” in 1887
It was an audience of 26—the queen and her entourage, sitting in the royal box, inside the grandstands which could hold up to 40,000.
For this occasion, the kings of Belgium, Greece, Saxony, and Denmark, as well as an assortment of Europe’s princes and princesses, which also included the future German Kaiser, William II, joined England’s royal family, to take in the Wild West performance and show their subjects that they too, could delight in ordinary pleasures.
Seated, L-R: King Alfonso XIII of Spain, King George V of the United Kingdom, King Frederik VIII of Denmark.
The highlight of the show, came when several monarchs: the Prince of Wales and the Kings of Denmark, Greece, Belgium, and Saxony, hopped aboard the Deadwood Stage, with Buffalo Bill in the driver’s seat and rode around the arena, while the assembled Indians engaged in a mock attack.
A horseman rode into the arena carrying an American flag while the ringmaster announced that the flag stood for peace and friendship.
The queen rose to her feet and bowed deeply.
“Then—we couldn’t help it—there arose such a genuine heart-stirring American yell from our company, as seemed to shake the sky,” Cody later wrote.
“It was a great event.”
“For the first time in history, since the Declaration of Independence, a sovereign of Great Britain had saluted a star-spangled banner, and that banner was carried by a member of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West.”
Nearly 200 performers—cowboys, Indians and Mexican vaqueros—galloped into the arena whooping, followed by Buffalo Bill riding his horse, Old Charlie.
Annie Oakley shot a cigar out of her husband’s mouth.
The critics raved,“Buffalo Bill’s entertainment is assuredly the most remarkable ever seen in this country,” said the Illustrated London .
Cody introduced Her Majesty, to several Sioux performers. “She shook hands with all of us,” Black Elk remembered. “Her hand was very little and soft.We gave a big cheer for her and then the shining wagons came in and she got in one of them and they all went away.”
Back home at Windsor Castle that night, Victoria described the day in her journal:
“Wild painted Red Indians from America, on their wild bare backed horses, of different tribes—cowboys, Mexicans &c., all came tearing around at full speed, shrieking and screaming, which had the weirdest effect.
An attack on a coach & on a ranch, with an immense deal of firing, was most exciting, so was the buffalo hunt & the bucking ponies. . . .The cowboys are fine looking people, but the painted Indians, with their feathers and wild dress (very little of it) were rather alarming looking & they have cruel faces. . . .Col. Cody, ‘Buffalo Bill,’ as he is called, from having killed 3000 buffaloes with his own hand, is a splendid man, handsome, and gentleman like in manner.
He has had many encounters & hand to hand fights with the Red Indians. Their war dances, to a wild drum and pipe, was quite fearful, with all their contorsions [sic] and shrieks, & they come so close.”
Decades later, in 1931, Black Elk—who had witnessed, both the Battle of Little Bighorn in 1876 and the massacre at Wounded Knee in 1890—recalled the queen fondly.
“We liked Grandmother England, because we could see that she was a fine woman, and she was good to us.
Maybe if she had been our Grandmother, it would have been better for our people.”
Two years later, the show returned to Europe and went to Italy, where they were invited to the Vatican, to attend the celebration of the 10th anniversary of the coronation of Pope Leo X III.
Also in Verona, Buffalo Bill fulfilled his ambition of exhibiting, his “Wild West” (he disliked the term ‘show’) in an ancient Roman amphitheater, because in Rome, the Coliseum , had too much rubble cluttering the arena, so he settled for having his troupe photographed, in front of it.
Recrossing the Mediterranean, via Corsica and Sardinia, the cast finally ported in Naples in the shadows of “Old Vesuvius, which in fact, formed a superbly grand scenic back-ground. The various noted localities there abound; the ruins of Herculaneum, Pompeii, and the great crater of “the burning mountain,” striking wonder and awe, to the stoic Cowboys and Indians.
Buffalo Bill, let the West run wild in Naples. for a while, before the performances commenced, in January of 1890.
An imaginative local had counterfeited more than 2,000 tickets, producing a great confusion at the opening.
No one —not Cody, not his company, and certainly not the people who watched them perform throughout Europe— viewed this as a circus.
It was more of a replay, if you will, of current events. In 1890, the Indian Wars, which raged along the American frontier had not even totally subsided.
Back in America, Chief Sitting Bull was still alive and still their leader, (although he would be “shot while trying to escape” from internment later that same year).
The Neapolitan papers praised Cody and his band:
That which may seem to the everyday Neapolitan to be a kind of game, an idle display of skill, is nothing less than a common necessity of everyday life in a country where acrobatic agility, boundless audacity and prowess are conditions for survival…
Speaking of a simulated Sioux attack on an immigrant wagon train, part of the daily show in Naples, the reporter for il Paese continued:
No description can convey the effect of an authentic mounted charge by Indians, these folk who show us a few meager scenes from a life, that until a few years ago, was theirs to lead untrammeled.
AT THE VATICAN.—”BUFFALO BILL’S” INDIANS AND COWBOYS AT THE ANNIVERSARY CEREMONY OF LEO XIII.
Rome was next visited, to be conquered, through the gentle power of intellectual interest and reciprocal pleasure exchanged by its unusual visitors. His Holiness, Pope Leo XIII, gave “the outfit”, as an organisation, his Pontiff’s blessing and the honor of attending a dazzling fete in the Vatican.
Among the gifts offered to Leo XIII, by Buffalo Bill a bouquet and a pillow of flowers that drew his coat of arms. They were reciprocated by rosaries and medals of the pontificate.
New York Herald, March 4, 1890.—(From our Special Correspondent.) ROME, MARCH 3.
One of the strangest spectacles ever seen within the venerable 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 Rafael, 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 nine o’clock the Ducal Hall, Royal Hall, and Sixtine 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 ENTREE.
Suddenly, a tall and chivalrous figure appeared at the entrance and all eyes were turned towards him.
It was Colonel W. F. CODY, “BUFFALO BILL.” With a sweep of his great sombrero, he saluted the chamberlains and then strode between the guards.
Colonel CODY and Mr. SALISBURY were escorted into the Sixtine 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 cross.
The Pontiff leaned affectionately toward the 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, the great scout bent low as he received the Pontifical benediction.
After the Thanksgiving Mass, with its grand choral accompaniment and occasionally, the sound of Leo XIII.’s voice was heard ringing through the chapel, the great audience then poured out of the Vatican.
Most of the Indians, were of the Catholic faith.
The company was photographed in the Coliseum, the stately ruin seemed silently and solemnly to regret, its famed ancient arena was too small for this modern exhibition, between that civilization and ours, 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 imaginations.
Strolling through its arena, gazing at its lions’ dens, or lolling lazily on its convenient ruins, hearing its interpreted history of Romulus, of Caesar, and Nero, roamed this band of Wild West Sioux.
A people whose history in barbaric deeds equals, if not excels, the ancient Romans, and now hand-in-hand, in peace and firmly cemented friendship with the American frontiersman, once gladiatorial antagonists on the Western plains.
The Romans could not wait to watch the show and visit the Indian camp, even if the 5-lira ticket was very expensive.
They all listened to the tales, on the spot of those occurrences which happened in the historic city of Rome.
All Rome was to-day astir over an attempt of Buffalo Bill’s cowboys with wild horses, which were provided 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 Prince of Sermoneta declared no cowboy in the world could ride these horses.
The cowboys laughed over this surmise and offered, at least, to undertake mount one of them, if they might choose the horse.
The Duke, hearing Buffalo Bill, who boasted of his skills, responds with a challenge and a bet: the cowboys will not be able to mount the horses of Lazio, while the Butteri, will be able to ride the American horses.
The wager was 500 lire and a huge wait. Depending on who is telling the story, the Maremma cowboys were only, marginally to moderately successful, at duplicating the feat on Cody’s horses and the Butteri, were proclaimed as winners.
However, Buffalo Bill did not agree and skipped town without paying his dues.
The next day, Cody was already traveling to Florence for a new show.
As soon as they arrived, a lady sent him a silver crucifix, to congratulate him on being received by the Pope.
“BUFFALO BILL” IN VENICE.
(By Telegraph, “New York Herald.”) VENICE, 16TH APRIL, 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 see 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.
The New York Times ran this article on May 18, 1890 about Cody’s appearance in Verona:
COWBOYS IN OLD VERONA
DIOCLETIAN’S ARENA USED FOR THE WILD WEST SHOW.
DELIGHT OF THE ITALIANS — SOME OF THE SCENES AND INCIDENTS—
COWBOYS AND COL. CODY TALKED WITH.
Verona, Italy, April 26.—We arrived here a few days ago from Venice, and one can imagine our astonishment, as we rode in the car past the old arena of Diocletian, in the Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele, to behold on the very walls of the arena, where we had expected perhaps, to see among the marble busts of Roman Senators or Generals, the head of our very own American Buffalo Bill, sombrero and all.
The train went too rapidly to permit our deciphering the inscription beneath the picture, especially as it was in Italian; but the next day, as we walked about town, we found the same bills posted up on all sides: Buffalo Bill’s Wild West, Grande Arena di Verona per soli due giorni.”
Cowboys with sombreros and chaparajos ,were to take the place of nude gladiators or Christian martyrs.
The American bison, Texas steer, and Indian buzzard head, were to be substituted for the savage panther, Bengal tiger, and African lion of days gone by.
The Wild West Show was to perform, in the ancient home of Roman culture and civilization, for the edification of descendants of the Caesars, in an edifice constructed by a Roman emperor.
What a colossal joke of history, on Roman emperors and flight of time, in general!
With one keen American glance, he seemed to take in the whole town, amphitheater, palaces, fortifications, and all.
He halted his steed before the ancient archway, through which Diocletian and his suite, and since then Napoleon I, had ridden and called to the attendant within: “Get a gait on yourself there Beardy, and come open this here iron fence.”
Presently, in the direction of the railway station, arose a cloud of dust; then out of the dust the stalwart formed of cowboys, followed by buffaloes, Indians in red blankets, Texas steers, and Mexican vaqueros appeared.
The singular cavalcade passed under the arches of the handsome Porta Nuova, up the Corso Vittorio Emmanuele, the windows and both sides of the street thronged with people, past the Palazzo Fracastoro and the Palazzo Marioni, and pairing into the main entrance of the arena, finally they disappeared behind the canvas curtain, to no small regret of the Veronese street arabs.
- Victor Emmanuel II
The good people of Verona were to be seen on all sides, their faces full of open-eyed curiosity, some at their windows, others standing in groups in the marketplace, commenting upon the new arrival.
“Oh, they are Africans. I know it by their black faces,” said one man. And another: “It’s a whole regiment, but they are brutti cavalieri.”
The inclination seemed to be to compare the cowboys with the mounted soldiery, and the comparison, in dress at least, was not favorable to the newcomers.
- Sharpshooter Annie Oakley while touring with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show in Italy, 1890
The first thing which struck us, was a vast number of moccasined feet projecting into the air. from the top most step of the arena.
The Indians had wrapped themselves in their blankets and were lying sound asleep in the sun.
Of the cowboys, some were busy whistling, while others were industriously whittling.
Annie Oakley and two or three other cowboy girls, dressed in Parisian gowns and bonnets, of a cut far and away from the frontier simplicity of their native heath, viewed the amphitheater.
We heard one of them remark as they looked at the massive lintels and keystones of the old Romans: “Well, I allow they built this arena for keeps.”
The bronchos were making themselves very much at home and did not appear to scent the blood of slaughtered lions, upon the stones about them.
The buffaloes nibbled at the little bunches of grass, now and then sniffing significantly, as if they had no exalted opinion of Italian grass, in general or of this arena grass, in particular.
There was nothing about the scene, to tell us the creatures we saw had not always lived in a Roman amphitheater or that they were not perfectly at home there.
After leaving the amphitheatre we paid a visit to the camp, in the company of a cowboy who recognized us as compatriots and volunteered to show us about.
The camp was situated some distance from the arena, in the deserted garden of an old palace.
The painted tepés of the Indians were pitched in two rows. In the open space between the tents, a group of cowboys, Indians and Mexicans, seated upon boxes, were playing Spanish monte, while others were killing time with a game of dice called chuck-a-luck.
The little piles of Italian soldi and lire would change places from time to time, but generally found their resting place, in the dealer’s pocket.
There were two long tables spread with tin cups and dishes containing fried pork, chunks of beef, boiled beans, and potatoes, the identical fare of the Western ranch.
Sad experience had taught the managers, it was better to make no innovation in the accustomed menu, polenta, spaghetti, frogs’ legs and sauerkraut, not being adaptable to the Indian stomach.
Our guide said: “you see, they live here just as they do on their native prairies; the only change is that they have a few boards to sleep on or perhaps an iron bedstead, as the stones would be too cold.
No, they have never slept in houses; modern improvements are just so many obstacles, to their ideas of comfort.
They prefer to camp out wherever they go, Europe or no Europe.
As we passed a tent where an old woman sat sewing, he said: “I want to present you to our mamma.
That’s the mamma of the camp. She’s a sort of doctor, and doctors us cowboys up when we’re sick. She makes clothes for the Indians and mends ours.
She’s a general mamma to the crowd. You know, we have a pretty good time wherever we go and are well cared for.
We get admission to all the theaters free, because we draw a crowd.
Why, in Naples we made the fortune of an old man, at whose place we stopped.
He had a tumbledown house, where nobody went. When it was known that we were to be there, the people flocked to it.
He made enough money to keep him for the rest of his life, I guess”
“What will you do when this show breaks up?” we asked.
“Well, I have had an offer to break horses in Paris, which I think I will accept, but a man gets old awful quick at that sort of business.
We cowboys could never work in the fields or anything like that. We couldn’t stand it.
We might give riding lessons, and some of us will probably do that, for we made a lot of money at it in Paris. We like Paris better than any place we have been in. One of our boys has died, since we left home. It was our orator.
He was a wonderful man. He learned to speak French in two months and one day, and presented with a diploma for it, by a gentleman of the Academy.
They said he spoke it, too, with the genuine Parisian accent.
Col. Cody, when questioned about the Italian tour, said: “It has been a much greater success than we had hoped for.
The Italians were delighted with the show. They said, they had not had so great excitement in Rome since the days of Titus.
The Romans brought their fiery horses from Campagna [sic] to us–wild beasts that had never been conquered–and my cowboys rode them.
By gosh, they didn’t know what to make of it. Some of their professional jockeys tried to ride our bronchos for a wager.
They first strap a bed on the horse’s back and then put on a saddle, like a Roman tower which reaches up to their armpits.
Then they stick a long iron down the horse’s throat, which prevents him from getting his head down. They nearly killed two of our horses in this way, and after all, failed to ride them. In Spain we did not do well, for we were there during the influenza, and who could have done business then?
The Italians are poor, but they are nothing compared to the Spaniards.
Countries where a little bit of a coin, like this centime, a fifth of our cent, is in circulation.
In the west, our smallest coin is 25 cents, or one hundred and twenty-five times one of these, and we call ours, a ‘bit.’
What would the boys call that?
We like the Italians of the upper classes, who are very polite, but the lowest classes are mean and not to be trusted.
Of course one has to excuse a great deal, as they have not much education.
Yes, we did have a good deal of counterfeit money passed on us in Barcelona, but it didn’t make much difference, for in Spain the banks trade in counterfeit money, and we took ours to a banker and sold it!
“The Indians are receiving the greatest benefit from traveling this way. They had no idea whatever of the world outside of their plains and prairies, and this is opening their eyes wonderfully to the earth’s magnitude.
I take them sightseeing with me, for we are under a verbal promise to the United States Government, to instruct them in this way.
They are great sightseers and enjoy themselves immensely.
They will know all about this arena, its history and uses, before we go away.
It’s a mystery to us, how they pick up their information about some things.
They tell me they feel as if they were in a dream.
I took five of the chiefs with me to Venice, and when in the morning they woke up and saw the gondolas floating by the doors of the houses they had to stick pins in themselves, to make sure they were awake.
Yes, they’ll have a deal to tell about when they get home.
In Rome they received the Pope’s blessing; in fact, I noticed he blessed them twice, probably because he thought savages needed it more.
We had to obtain a special dispensation for them in order that they should not be obliged to wear dress suits, which is the regular thing on such occasions.
A curious thing we have noticed here in Italy, is the similarity between Indian and Italian customs.
For instance, the method of building the tombs is the same, the custom of decorating the outside of the habitations with paintings is the same, the cloaks the Italians wear wrapped about, closely resemble the blankets of the Indians.”
For two hours, before the doors opened, the people began to gather around the amphitheater.
Vendors of paper pinwheels and of Italian “pasta” at 5 centimes a cake, were plying their trade among the crowd.
We entered through a somber passage, upon the walls of which, about ten feet above the ground, were the marks of the inundation of the Adige.
Further on we came to the gladiators’ cells, with their heavy iron doors.
In this hall of the gladiators, there is in the pavement a trap door opening upon a stream which flows into the Adige.
It was into this stream, it is said, that the bodies of the gladiators and Christian martyrs were thrown.
The crowd poured forth upon the steps of the amphitheater, through a number of “vomitorii” and distributed itself in the different priced seats, which were partitioned off by boards.
Only the best places, at 3 lire (60 cents) had chairs. The other spectators were obliged to sit upon the stone steps or do as the custom was with Roman ladies—bring shawls and cushions to sit on.
The women in the audience looked exceedingly picturesque. with their black lace mantillas or veils of thin tulle falling over their tortoise-shell combs.
As they entered, their pointed wooden sandals struck against the pavement and made a noise like the gurgling of water through a long-necked bottle.
There were peasant women in brilliant calicoes of blue and red, pink and purple; some with babes in their arms.
In the more expensive seats black-eyed damsels, with oval cheeks of olive hue, could be seen sporting lorgnettes and wearing real hats trimmed with brilliant green.
There were men smoking extravagantly long and slender cigars, called Virginias, and no end of tightly-trousered, gilt-edged soldiery.
There were even tonsured monks in flowing gowns of brown, and black-robed priests to be seen, whom illustrious men from a distant land had called forth from their cells.
Italian waiters in swallow-tail coats passed beer about, calling: “Fresca birra, Signori, birra fresca!”
When the show finally made its appearance, from beneath the Emperor’s balcony, from which formerly the wild beasts issued, the enthusiasm of the Italians was unbounded.
They literally showered Buffalo Bill with superlatives: “Bellissimo uomo! Magnifico! resounded from all sides.
The Indians, although they were thought to be Africans by many, were none the less interesting.
“I passatempi dei cowboys” and “I cavalli bucking” were pronounced to be very wonderful.
Buffalo Bill” simply brought down the house.
As the last horse of the last cowboy disappeared from the arena, after the “saluto finale”, the small boys of the audience , swarmed down the steps into the arena, and we wondered as we went away if after those bloody spectacles for which the the edifice was built, the Veronese boys of eighteen centuries ago, had done the same.
Buffalo Bill Cody had brought a kind of time machine with him. He had opened a window and given a privileged few a chance to look out and glimpse something very rare: an authentic reproduction of a way of life played for them by the very people who had led it.
The window would soon close and the players would become anachronisms and caricatures of themselves. Then, generations of imitators and made–up distortions of “cowboys and Indians” would follow. For a fleeting moment, however, the citizens of Naples and other European cities got a chance to see the real thing.
At the same time it offers a vision of the nation on the verge of nationalism, imperialism, and an emerging global mass culture.
About a decade after Cody’s last tour, the world would be in it’s first war.