It's hard to explore when it's 106 during the day. My energy conservation plan is to open the door at 4 am and turn on the fans. When it's dark and 80 degrees, that doesn't work so well. So today's story is about the infamous Doc Holiday from things I've picked up here and there. As with all historical characters, you have to take it with a grain of salt. Sometimes their reputation was exaggerated by the newspapers. Things haven't changed much.
Born in Griffin Georgia to Henry and Alice Jane Holliday, John Henry Holliday was of Scottish and English ancestry. Hmmm maybe we are kin since that's my ancestry too. His father fought in the Mexican American war as well as being a confederate in the American Civil War.
One day Henry Sr. brought home a step-brother from the war and in 1852 moved the family to Valdosta Georgia. Sadly in 1866 his mother and step brother died of tuberculosis. John Henry attended the Valdosta Institute receiving his education in languages including French, Latin and ancient Greek, with a little history thrown in for good luck. Rather weird for the time, don't you think?
There must have been money in the family, because in 1870 at age 19 he left for Philadelphia and in 1872 graduated from the Pennsylvania College of Dental Surgery. After working with an associate in St Louis, he moved on to Atlanta. Just after opening his own business, he was diagnosed with tuberculosis and told to move to a drier climate. This was Doc's graduation photo.
Thus began Docs move towards the Wild West. Dallas was where he won many awards for his dentistry, along with a dentist friend of his father, but his wracking cough from tuberculosis caused their patrons to complain. By 1874 he opened his own practice, but again, all the coughing interfered with surgeries and people quit going to see him. That's when he discovered he had a knack for gambling. After being indicted for illegal gambling and for trading shots with a saloon keeper, he left Texas for greener pastures.
Denver was his next stop, where he worked faro tables under the alias of Tom Mackey. Gambling was a dangerous sport and he needed to protect himself, so he became an expert shot and knife fighter. For the next few years, he traveled from Colorado to Wyoming to South Dakota and back to Texas, getting in scrapes all along the way. His diagnosis made him angry and short tempered. After all, he had been told he was going to die any time. He had nothing to lose.
Although involved in several gunfights, the lawless towns took no action against him. At one point he was severely wounded and his cousin came from back East to help him recover. About that cousin Mattie, Doc and she fell in love when they were very young, but it being frowned upon since they were related, he left town. She joined a convent where she spent the rest of her life. They wrote letters quite often so I'm assuming the mail delivery system was much better than it is now.
"Doc" as he was now known, met Mary Katharine Honory (Big Nose Kate) in Fort Griffin Texas. She was a dance hall girl and prostitute, but an educated one and had the same mean temperament as Doc. She is the only female Doc had a relationship with after his cousin.
Doc met Wyatt Earp in Fort Griffin when Wyatt was looking for Dirty Dave Rudabaugh. Knowing John Henry hated lawmen, Wyatt was surprised when he opened up and told where Rudabaugh could be found. They became friends of sort. Shortly after that, Doc slashed a card cheat before he was shot, which landed him in the hotel room jail. Big Nose Kate set fire to a nearby shed, grabbed a pistol and disarmed the guard, freeing Doc, whereupon they left town in a hurry.
At this point, quite by accident, they all ended up at the Long Branch Saloon in Dodge City where Wyatt walked into an ambush as he pushed open the door. As luck would have it, Doc was sitting unnoticed at a back table and literally saved Wyatt's life. Otherwise there would have been no shootout at the OK Corral.
By 1880, they all had moved on seperately at different times and landed in Tombstone where the word gold had been bandied about. Doc had accumulated over $40,000 winning at the tables in Prescott, so when he met up with Kate again in Tombstone, he had plenty of money to keep her happy. They again became a couple.
As with Wyatt and Josie, Doc and Mary Katharine (Kate) fought a lot. One day after a particularly drunken outburst, Doc kicked Kate out, giving the local Sheriff Johnny Behan the opening he needed to exploit the local political scene. He talked Kate into signing a false affidavit that Doc robbed the Wells Fargo stage of $26,000.
Wyatt and his brothers uncovered the plot, found witnesses to Doc's innocence and exposed the Cowboys plot. Thus the entire OK Corral incident was initiated, after which Doc rode with Wyatt on the vendetta ride to kill all those cowboys responsible for Morgan's death.
Sheriff Behan got arrest warrants issued on four of the riders and Doc for killing Frank Stillwell at the Tucson train station. They decided to head out to New Mexico. Doc and Wyatt parted ways in Albuquerque after a big fight when Doc called Wyatt a Jew-Boy for having taken up with Josephine Marcus (who was Jewish) after being told of the affair by Henry Jaffa with whom they were staying.
In May of 1882, Doc was finally arrested for the killing of Frank Stillwell. Wyatt, having heard of the situation, sought the help of Bat Masterson, thinking Holliday would be railroaded. Bat and his Judge friends were able to refuse extradition to Tombstone and turned Doc loose.
Not long after that, Johnny Ringo (Doc's nemesis from the OK Corral incident) was found dead, laid up next to a tree near Chiricahua Peak. Although it was reported as a suicide, it is thought Doc killed him. Johnny was buried under that tree and remains there to this day. I definitely need to talk to Mr. Ringo, so it's on my list upon my return to Arizona.
The last confrontation of Doc Holliday happened in Hyman's Saloon in Leadville Colorado. Down to his last dime, Doc borrowed $5 from the bartender and pawned some jewelry so he could play, but never repaid the bartender. A fight was in the works since the bartender was allowed to carry a gun inside that saloon.
Doc went back to Hyman's where he had a gun hidden by the door and waited for the bartender. As the bartender came in the door, Doc shot, but missed. He didn't miss the second time, hitting an artery. It's amazing to know however, that the doctor of the town was able to sew up the artery and the man lived.
Doc was arrested but claimed self defense and was acquitted. After all, the bartender did not die.
Fearing pneumonia, Doc went on to Gunnison Denver in the winter of 1882 where he met up with his old friend Wyatt at the Windsor Hotel. Sadie Marcus, Wyatt's new flame, said Doc was skeletal, had a continuous cough and was unsteady on his feet.
By 1887, very sick and unable to care for himself, he went to the hot springs near Hotel Glenwood in Glenwood Springs Colorado. Sadly, the springs did him more harm than good. He imbibed in alcohol and laudanum to his last breath. His last words, after being told by the nurse he could not have another shot of whiskey, were "this is funny" as he looked at his bootless feet. Doc always thought he would die in the streets of some town with his boots on, after being killed in a gunfight.
Bill's amazed at what he learned from your post. You are a nature born writer.
ReplyDeleteAh thank you!!! I thought he might like that post!!
DeleteThat's a great post Nancy and awesome pictures! 36 is so sad, way too young! I love Glenwood Springs.
ReplyDeleteThank you!! I've never been to Glenwood Springs. Might be time for a trip!
DeleteWOW! In these days just thinking that your Dentist (who is coughing all over you) has tuberculosis is just unfathomable. Of course, he (Doc Holliday) couldn't wear a mask because ONLY bandits wore masks back in those days. LOL
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like he had a terrible life, which is why he was so fearless. He wasn't afraid to die.
DeleteFascinating reading! Thanks for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteDoc was an interesting guy. Tuberculosis surely directed his life.
DeleteThat is a lot of action packed into 36 years. I cannot even imagine what it would have been like walking in his shoes.
ReplyDeleteFifteen years of misery pretty much. So much death and destruction back in the old days.
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