ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book began as a social history of the Wild West show, but I soon realized that cast members’ accounts of life in the show were so inflected with the mythology of William Cody himself that it became impossible to evaluate them without first understanding him. The resulting project took much longer than I anticipated, and it took me much further afield, too. I have many debts, and I know the list below is incomplete.

I have been the beneficiary of much institutional support, beginning with faculty research grants at the University of San Diego and the University of California, Davis. Early on, my research received a major boost from a summer seminar, “Social Historians Write Biography,” sponsored by the National Endowment for the Humanities at the Newberry Library (ably taught by James Grossman and Elliott Gorn, who gave me some of the first and most helpful advice on following Cody’s trail). I subsequently was honored to receive a W. M. Keck Fellowship at the Huntington Library in San Marino, California, and a fellowship from the Albert and Lois P. Graves Fund, which generously financed my research trip to France and Britain. A Fred Garlow Grant from the Buffalo Bill Historical Center provided valuable travel support for my research at the Buffalo Bill Historical Center, during which I also was treated to the center’s wonderful hospitality at the Paul Stock House. A University of California President’s Research Fellowship in the Humanities, a fellowship from the UC Davis Humanities Institute, and sabbatical leave from UC Davis provided me with time to begin drafting this book.

Portions of chapter 9 first appeared in “Cody’s Last Stand: Masculine Anxiety, the Custer Myth, and the Frontier of Domesticity in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show,” Western Historical Quarterly 35 (Spring 2003): 49–69 (copyright Western History Association; reprinted by permission). Portions of Chapter 11 and Chapter 12 appeared in “Buffalo Bill Meets Dracula: William F. Cody, Bram Stoker, and the Frontiers of Racial Decay,” American Historical Review 107: 4 (October 2002): 1124–57. My thanks to both publications for allowing me use of the material here.

At Alfred A. Knopf, Jane Garrett, my editor, recognized the value of the project early on and has been a strong supporter ever since. I am indebted also to Emily Molanphy for the prompt and cheerful editorial assistance, and Susanna Sturgis for the excellent copyediting.

Out in Cody, I owe special thanks to Paul Fees, a scholar as distinguished by his remarkable generosity as by his vast knowledge of Buffalo Bill Cody and the Far West. Time and again, Paul steered me to sources and offered the benefit of his own Cody scholarship, and his sense of humor, too. Our talks alone made my annual visits to the town of Cody well worth the trip.

Arthur Amiotte welcomed me to his home, where he shared family history, as well as documents and photographs of adventurous ancestors who went to Europe with Buffalo Bill. My thanks to him for generosity with time and his family heritage, and also for his insights and our many great conversations during the writing of this book.

With many others, I mourned the passing of Calvin Jumping Bull shortly before this book was completed. I am indebted to Calvin for sharing the history of his family’s involvement with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West, and also for explaining the show’s long-term legacy for Lakota performers. My thanks to him for the stories, and the wisdom.

At research libraries and archives I discovered not only great staff, but good friends. At the Buffalo Bill Historical Center, Juti Winchester and Bob White were extremely helpful and encouraging; Frances Clymer and Ann Marie Donoghue fielded numerous questions and, late in the game, urgent requests for lots of photographs. Steve Frieson was enthusiastic in his assistance with materials in the Buffalo Bill Museum, in Golden, Colorado. Bruce Hanson and Janice Prater at the Denver Public Library were always welcoming and extremely helpful. On this as on several other projects over the last fifteen years, George Miles has steered me through the wonders of western history at Yale’s Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library. I remain grateful for his help and his friendship. Alan Perry, at the National Archives branch in Kansas City, offered much assistance and made certain I did not miss out on his hometown’s barbeque ribs. I have also been fortunate to work with the staff of the Nebraska State Historical Society, the National Archives in Washington, D.C., and the National Archives regional center in Denver, Colorado. In Europe, I received much assistance from the staff of the Kelvin Grove Museum, Glasgow, the staff of the British Library, London, and Sabine Barnicaud, at the Palais du Roure, Avignon, France.

In the UK, thanks to John and Noni Cordingley, Jeremy and Rosemary Cordingley, Mark and Sally Hobbs, Alan and Elizabeth Megahey, Ken and Polly Anderson, and Karina Upton and Paul Kelland for the support and hospitality. On the Continent, Rupert and Josiene Buxton not only opened their home, but saved my research agenda with a spate of last-minute travel bookings that got me across France, and in time.

At the University of San Diego, where I was teaching when I began this project, Jim Gump first proposed that I tackle Buffalo Bill. His advice was strongly seconded by Iris Engstrand and Lisa Cobbs Hoffman. My thanks to all.

Colleagues and friends have been unstinting in their willingness to read drafts of chapters, to comment on the work, and to listen to my (often lengthy) musings. Phil Deloria provided thoughtful criticism and coaching on cultural history, nineteenth-century America, and William Cody’s career. Early in the work, Mike Saler pointed me toward issues of race decay, national expansion, and popular entertainments, and gave me a sounding board for many of the ideas which found their way into the final work (and talked me out of some that did not). Stephen Arata, Steve Aron, Ann Fabian, Todd DePastino, Mark Fiege, Dan Flores, Karen Halttunen, Eric Rauchway, Catherine Robson, David Simpson, and Elliott West read draft chapters and dispensed helpful criticism and advice. Alan Taylor and Emily Albu, Bill Ainsworth and Kathy Olmsted, Andrew Anker and Nancy Leroy, and Ted and Jo Burr Margadant provided conceptual advice, criticism of drafts, and much emotional support—and many dinners. Also, I have been enlightened by many conversations with Thomas Andrews, Bob Bonner, David Biale, William Cronon, William Hagen, Jack Hicks, Drew Isenberg, Susan Johnson, Cathy Kudlick, Norma Landau, Howard Lamar, David Rich Lewis, Ming-Cheng Lo, Sally McKee, Barbara Metcalf, Tom Metcalf, Clyde Milner, George Moses, Louis Owens, Andres Resendez, Kevin Rozario, Marni Sandweiss, Suzana Sawyer, John Smolenski, Krystyna Von Henneberg, Clarence Walker, and Li Zhang. In addition to my faculty colleagues in the UC Davis Department of History, I would like to thank my research assistants for their cheerful, relentless pursuit of sources: Robert Chester, Phil Garone, Emily Hanawalt, David Hickman, Ben Perez, and Josh Reid.

Thanks to my parents, Claude and Elizabeth Warren, who have long encouraged me to follow the paths I most enjoy and stay on them to the end. My in-laws, Robert and Mary Streeter, have provided encouragement and a lovely retreat in the high country of Wyoming for many years now.

I reserve my greatest debt for last. During the research and writing of this book, my family has exhibited both stalwart patience with being ignored for long stretches of time, and enthusiasm for the sometimes weird travel itinerary. Much as my boys enjoyed the trip to Disneyland Paris—where they watched the live reenactment of the Wild West show, “La Legende de Buffalo Bill”—they have not been wild about Buffalo Bill. Not long ago, my son Sam spoke for himself and his big brother, Jesse, when he informed me that this must be my last book, “because writing keeps us from having fun with you.” To both my boys, I can only say that I am even happier than you are that this book is finished.

For eight years, through all the ups and downs of this project, and the many thousands of miles we’ve logged in completing it, my wife, Spring, has believed in it and seen me through all my doubts, disruptions, and setbacks. She edited every chapter (more than once) and provided me the best and most consistent advice on history, narrative, and literary style. I could not have done it without her. Her good-natured observation about how enthusiastically I turn almost any conversation back toward the subject of this book—“All roads lead to Buffalo Bill”—has long become a standing joke among friends and family. Now that we’ve reached our destination, there are a thousand new roads waiting. Which one we choose does not concern me, so long as I share it with you.