She tried to object at first. Mr. Swearengen pointed out that he had loaned her money for the fare to Deadwood and not only was she in debt to him, but she had no money with which to return home. Still, she refused to do the horrible things he demanded, and this time his argument was physical rather than verbal. Scared, weak and confused, she had taken her place among the other girls and worked for Mr. Swearengen.

Her eyes move to the bottle of laudanum on the table. It was given to her by another girl who was similarly tricked into a life of depravity.

“Take this,” the girl had told her. “It helps you to forget.” But she couldn’t forget. Every time she closed her eyes she could see the strained, unshaven faces of the miners and bullwhackers. She couldn’t seem to wash the scent of whiskey, sweat and cigar smoke from her skin. She poured the laudanum into a glass of whiskey. With tears silently rolling down her cheek, she swallowed the liquid, permitting herself to notice the intense burning in her throat. Moments later, she lay down on the bed, closed her eyes and drifted off.

The doctor was able to get her heart beating again, yet she would never regain consciousness. In less than 24 hours, they were lowering her casket into the earth.

Suddenly Swearengen

Although this story is fictitious, it’s not far-fetched. Many young girls were pressed into service at the Gem, and suicide attempts were common. It is said that Dr. F.S. Howe would always bring his stomach pump when called to the Badlands district on an emergency.

Swearengen lured young girls away to Deadwood under various pretenses, only to coerce them into working for him. The girls would hustle drinks, dance and perform sexual favors. Women who refused were bullied or beaten by Swearengen or his henchmen. In September 1884, the Black Hills Daily Times published an article titled “Infamous: A Den of Prostitution under the Guise of a Dance Hall, Stock with Innocent and Unsuspecting Girls Engaged through Misrepresentation by its Bestial Proprietor.” Only two days before print a stagecoach brought 11 young girls to the Gem. After the girls expressed no desire to comply with Mr. Swearengen’s wishes, he ordered them locked in their rooms. One of the girls managed to escape and soon afterward Officer Dunn, Colonel Cornel and Marshal Tyler made an inspection of the Gem, resulting in the emancipation of three more young ladies.

It was later brought to light that all of the 11 girls, still in their teens, had responded to a Chicago newspaper advertisement directing young ladies interested in work to meet an E. A. Swearengen. When meeting the girls, Swearengen told them he owned a large hotel, theater and dance pavilion and that they would be waiting tables and doing general work. The initial public outcry at these events prompted Al to send for his younger brother, Winfield.

Winfield Swearengen was a tough young man and expert marksman. He would put on shooting demonstrations in which he would throw small glass balls in the air and blast them with his pistol. While these demonstrations would put a little money into Winfield’s pocket, they also worked wonders to deter anyone who might think of starting trouble with him, or his brother, Al. If Al had a problem with somebody, it was common for Winfield to show up in Deadwood a short time later. Winfield even briefly worked as a bartender at the Gem.

Notoriously Shy

Swearengen’s ruthless business practices were popularized by the original HBO series Deadwood, but how well did the drama’s antagonist, portrayed by Ian McShane, reflect his real-life counterpart? Jerry Bryant, the enthusiastic Adams Museum research curator and archaeologist, sheds some insight.

“Al Swearengen was nothing like the character in the HBO series,” says Bryant. “In real life he was much more of a heartless bastard. Not an easy concept to believe, but this is one of those cases where reality is stranger than fiction.” That brings forth the inevitable question: just who was the real Al Swearengen?

Despite Swearengen’s notoriety in the pages of several early Black Hills newspapers, historians have struggled to find verifiable information about his life outside of the Gem. These attempts are complicated by a lack of consistency in record keeping that was prevalent in that era. Swearingen and Swearengen are the two most common spellings of Al’s last name, but there is a plethora of variations found everywhere from federal censuses to the Black Hills Pioneer. There are only two known photographs that supposedly depict the elusive Swearengen, but the authenticity of these can’t be proven. Still, most historians agree that the man pictured is most likely Al.

“All of the known original copies of the photo have a citation that states something to the effect of, ‘Al Swearengen in a buggy in front of the Gem’,” says Bryant. “It’s something that can never be proved either way, but you’ll notice the man in the buggy looks just like the man behind the bar. I believe it’s Al Swearingen.” Long hours of document digging by dedicated historians, including Bryant, have turned up what little we know about the notorious Al Swearengen.

Ellis Alfred Swearengen, along with his twin brother Lemuel, was born in Mahaska, Iowa, on July 8, 1845. Their parents, Daniel and Keziah, were married Jan. 28, 1836, and would ultimately have 10 children. Census records indicate the twins had an older sister named Elizabeth and two older brothers named John and William. William died while he was very young. Not much is known about Al’s childhood or adolescence. It appears that he lived at home while starting his first business venture – a saloon in Mahaska – with his brother, Lem, This attempt apparently failed, because Lem started what was to become a suspiciously successful butcher shop and Al moved to Dakota Territory by way of Denver, with his new wife, Nettie.

Al didn’t come directly to Deadwood; rather his first stop in the Black Hills was in what would become the town of Custer. In fact, the city lines of Custer were laid out by Al as reported in the Sep. 15, 1875 issue of the Bismarck Daily Tribune:

“Custer City is the name of a new town laid out in Custer County, Dakota by Mr. A. Swearengen. It is located near the Gordon Stockade in Custer Park, Black Hills. The city is watered by two mountain streams and surrounded by rich placer mines.”

Al Swearingen liked to be in control, and what better way to realize this desire than by plotting out city lines, selling plots of land and guiding the development of towns? If that’s the case, then why didn’t Al stick around Custer?

Whatever prompted Al to leave Custer is unknown, as well as why he never returned to the town he helped to establish. Perhaps the rumors of gold being found in Deadwood Gulch were rich enough to spur his move and he arrived in Deadwood in the summer of 1876.

MINING THE MINERS

Although Swearengen arrived with a wave of entrepreneurs looking to cater to the needs of the miners: he didn’t build his infamous Gem Theatre right away. Al’s first business venture in Deadwood was the Cricket Saloon, presumably named for the Cricket coal mining camp near his home in Oskaloosa, Iowa.

The Cricket was a small, quaint saloon, often described as a hallway. At 8 feet wide and 60 feet long the description is fitting. Swearengen devised a successful method to draw in the miners, fill them with booze and part them with their gold. He advertised “prize fights,” and although no prizes were awarded, men were eager to watch a pair of miners pummel each other. Sometimes the fights would continue beyond 50 rounds before being called off. The “ring” consisted of three walls at the rear of the Saloon, with benches acting as a fourth barrier. This effectively made the fighting area a mere 8 feet by 8 feet, and sometimes fights would break out as men struggled with one another to get up front and see the action. One recorded instance actually shows another historically significant Deadwood resident, Billy Nuttall, acting as referee. Nuttall was part owner of Nuttall and Mann’s Saloon No. 10 where Wild Bill Hickok was murdered.

Swearingen’s time with the Cricket Saloon proved lucrative enough for him to build the opulent Gem Theatre, which opened its doors at the corners of Wall and Main streets the evening of April 7, 1877.

The Gem was a large, two-story structure with a 24-foot façade. Patrons would enter through the front doors into the saloon area with tables and the bar. Directly behind the saloon was the theater with rows of seats. A large room to the left of the theater served as the dance hall, a room about two-thirds the length of the theater, but just as wide. Adjoining the dance hall were various rooms used for storage or dubious purposes. The second floor contained an outdoor balcony where the Gem band would play to lure in customers. Directly inside from the balcony was the gallery, which opened to the theater below. There were private boxes looking down on either side of the stage where men could relax with a drink, a cigar and a girl. A curtain was provided for the box windows, should the occupying pair desire more intimate privacy.

Above the dance hall is presumably where Al kept his office and his home. Though he moved here with his wife Nettie, the couple didn’t stay married for long. She accused Al of physical abuse and a divorce was granted. It wouldn’t be the last time a marriage ended in this way for Swearengen. In fact, Swearengen would go on to repeat the same instance with two more women, both making accusations of physical abuse.

The grand opening night featured the talents of comedian Sam Murdy from Cheyenne. Swearengen found the practice of importing talent to his theater to be more than satisfactory, and would eventually hire someone to scout around the country and lure profitable acts to the Gem Theatre.

This gave the early Gem a fairly good reputation. Whether the more dubious transactions were merely overlooked or were simply less prominent, Deadwood’s finer citizens weren’t always afraid to show their faces at Al’s theater.

“It wasn’t always a terrible place to go,” notes Bryant. “Even women used to get dressed up and go see the shows.”

The Gem occasionally brought in some reputable acts. Plays were commonly on the bill, as well as the occasional opera singer. Swearengen also defied social mores at the time by hiring a black man named Oscar Willis as stage manager. “It’s just something that wasn’t done in those days,” says Bryant.

Despite his contribution to Deadwood’s fine arts, it’s unlikely that the unprecedented sum of $5,000 - $10,000 the Gem was taking in nightly was due to ticket sales. For purposes of perspective, that would be like earning $90,000 - $180,000 a night in 2007. Gambling, alcohol and prostitution were the big money-makers at the Gem. It is also likely that opium and laudanum contributed to Swearengen’s outrageous profits. It wasn’t always smooth sailing for the Gem. In the summer of 1879, fire broke out at the Gem, damaging the structure. The building was quickly repaired, only to burn to the ground along with much of Deadwood in a fire on Sept. 26, 1879. Though a financial setback, it gave Swearengen an excuse to rebuild the Gem even larger and more luxuriously than before, this time with a water plug installed on the second floor.

The wealth of the gold rush began to attract businessmen and their families into Deadwood, and the town quickly became less of a rowdy mining camp and more of an upstanding community. The activities at the Gem began to draw unwanted negative attention, but Al Swearengen used his political sway to keep his most immoral (hence profitable) business practices going. It is said that Swearengen and Sheriff Seth Bullock drew an imaginary line on Main Street, leaving Swearengen control of the Gem’s side, which ultimately came to be known as the Badlands. Swearengen’s political and financial clout allowed him to avoid the effects of several moral drives to “clean up the town” despite the fact they were often aimed specifically at the Gem.

By the mid-1880s, the Gem had outlived any positive connotations previously associated with it. Fights constantly broke out. Several scuffles even resulted in shots being fired. In one instance in 1880, two of the female bartenders got into such a row it prompted coverage in the May 29 issue of the Black Hills Pioneer. Apparently “Big Mag” Mitchell grabbed Lou Desmond’s wig and ripped it off her head. Lou’s response was to draw her pistol and fire away. Only one of the bullets hit Big Mag, and was fortunately deflected by her steel corset. Lou was arrested on charges of assault with a deadly weapon, but was eventually found not guilty after a moving speech by her lawyer, which apparently highlighted how disputes at the Gem were traditionally settled.

A Final Curtain Call

Early in the morning on December 19, 1899, the Gem would give Deadwood one last spectacle as it burst into flames. Not only did witnesses testify that the fire had started in six different places simultaneously, the fire alarm was sounded in a different ward. When the first fire team arrived, they could not seem to find their hydrant wrenches or hose nozzles. When the Homestake and South Deadwood fire companies arrived on the scene, their wrenches and nozzles also were misplaced. Despite the confusion, the fire was contained to the Gem and the surrounding buildings, which burned to the ground. Is it fair to assume that the negative whispers about Al Swearengen and his disreputable Gem Theatre manifested in such action?

“There’s no doubt it was arson,” says Bryant. Swearengen decided it was no longer in his best interests to hang around Deadwood. The notoriety he developed while operating the Gem failed to follow him around in the years before his death, and little is known about his exploits.

On Oct. 13, 1903, the Burlington train from the Northwest Territories pulled into Deadwood, and with it, Al Swearengen. Swearengen told people of his intentions to rebuild the Gem, but left shortly thereafter, never to return.

Meanwhile some interesting things were happening back home in Oskaloosa with Lem Swearengen, Al’s twin. After closing up early one Sunday morning, Lem walked home with approximately $200 in his pocket. He opened the door of his house to be greeted with a barrage of gunfire. Lem began swinging blindly in an attempt to subdue his attacker, and ultimately escaped into his front yard where he yelled for help. The assailant managed to escape. Fortunately for Lem, the gun used was of a weak caliber and all of the shots merely glanced off his skull, and after getting some stitches he was out and about later that day. Lem mused that his attacker must have been trying to burglarize his home or even had some inclination of the large sum of money he was bringing home as a motive. To this day, the identity of his attacker remains unknown.

Forty-four days later, on Nov. 15, 1904, Al Swearengen’s body was found by the street car tracks near his residence. Reports indicated he had died from a massive head wound from a blunt, heavy object. Al’s body was taken back to Oskaloosa, and his funeral was held at Lem’s home.

On July 5, 1910, Lem Swearengen was found collapsed in front of his store in Oskaloosa. Initially, it was believed that he was the victim of a stroke, but when he died eight days later the autopsy revealed head trauma on the back of his skull, the result of being hit with a blunt object. There were other indications that several blows had landed.

Al and Lem are both buried in unmarked graves in Oskaloosa.

Souces:

Interview, Jerry Bryant

The Lives and Wives of Al Swearengen by Jerry Bryant.

Black Hills Pioneer

Adams Museum