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Texas Jack: America's First Cowboy Star
Texas Jack: America's First Cowboy Star is a biography of John B. "Texas Jack" Omohundro, the first well-known cowboy in America. A Confederate scout and spy from Virginia, Jack left for Texas within weeks of Lee's surrender at Appomattox. In Texas, he became first a cowboy and then a trail boss, jobs that would inform the rest of his life. Jack lead cattle on the Chisholm and Goodnight-Loving trails to New Mexico, California, Kansas and Nebraska. In 1868 he met James B. "Wild Bill" Hickok in Kansas and then William F. "Buffalo Bill" Cody in Nebraska at the end of the first major cattle drive to North Platte. Texas Jack and Buffalo Bill became friends, and soon the scout and the cowboy became the subjects of a series of dime novels written by Ned Buntline.
356 pages, Hardcover
Published April 1, 2021
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
July 7, 2025
A lot of this book is about show business in late 1800's. The author's trigger warnings at the beginning is unnecessary.
February 20, 2021
I got an advanced copy of this book and it's probably the best thing I've read in months.
This groundbreaking work by Matthew Kerns brings to light a lesser-known but vitally important figure in any history of American pop culture. It's probably enough to learn that John B. "Texas Jack" Omohundro was the only full partner of William "Buffalo Bill" Cody in terms of sharing the stage and revenue from that venture.
But Omohundro was so much more than Cody's pecuniary partner. They were good friends and had each other's back in frontier Nebraska for three years before stepping onto a Chicago stage together for Ned Buntline's Scouts of the Prairie and launching what would become the most popular entertainment sensation for decades in the form of Buffalo Bill. And for years after that fateful night in 1872, "Texas Jack" and Cody helped make stars out of Annie Oakley, Doc Carver, "Wild Bill" Hickok and others––begging the question, how did those luminaries thrive in the collective consciousness of America for the next 150 years, while Omohundro remained a stalwart, if lesser known figure?
The easy answer is that he died of pneumonia, in 1880––a few years before Cody exploded onto the national and then international scene with his famed Wild West show. There is more to this, though, and as Kerns illustrates, it's worthy of examination. He summarizes: "While his friends Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill were rendered iconic as the preeminent scout and lawman of the American West, Omohundro's legacy as the first cowboy on the American stage is fundamental to the mythologized Western hero later introduced to the world by Buffalo Bill and personified in the stories of Ned Buntline and Prentiss Ingraham . . . . If the idealized American man is the frontier cowboy, then the genesis of the American cowboy in popular culture is Texas Jack Omohundro, a man who, despite his moniker, was not from Texas." (This reviewer won't spoil the story of how he was given his nickname.)
In fact, Omohundro was born in Virginia. He served in the Confederacy, and later as a civilian scout for the U.S. army during the Indian Wars. In 1869, at Fort Hays, Kansas, "California Joe" Milner introduced Omohundro to Wild Bill Hickok, then the acting sheriff of Ellis County. Later this year, Jack met Cody for the first time, while the latter was scouting for the 5th U.S. Cavalary at Fort McPherson, Nebraska. Cody was instrumental in getting Jack hired on as a “trail agent and scout” for the 5th. Jack soon became known as one of the best trail agents, hunting guides, and Indian fighters on the frontier.
The year 1872 was a pivotal one for both Cody and Jack, the details of which Kerns writes in gorgeous detail, as he also does with Jack's work as a cowboy, and his time alongside Pawnee and other native peoples: "The clouds of dust gradually rise as if a curtain was lifted,
horses stop as buffaloes drop, until there is a clear panoramic view of a busy scene all quiet, everything still (save a few fleet ones in the distance); horses riderless, browsing proudly conscious of success; the prairie dotted here, there, everywhere with dead bison; and happy, hungry hunters skinning, cutting, slashing the late proud monarch of the plains."
As well, Kerns reconstructs the relationships between Jack and other figures such as markswoman Ena Palmer, Louisa Cody, various indigenous peoples such as Pitaresaru of the Pawnee, Ned Buntline, Hickok, and of course, the love of his life, actress Giuseppina Morlacchi, whom he met when she joined Scouts of the Prairie.
Kerns meticulously reconstructs the fascinating––if sadly shortened––life of Omohundro using Omohundro's own letters, newspaper accounts, accounts of various Indian agents and agencies, dime novels, various historical societies, and much more. What emerges is the story of the man who actually was the driving force behind Cody's decision to go into show business, and perhaps was too authentic to shine as brightly as Cody through the ages. Until now.
This groundbreaking work by Matthew Kerns brings to light a lesser-known but vitally important figure in any history of American pop culture. It's probably enough to learn that John B. "Texas Jack" Omohundro was the only full partner of William "Buffalo Bill" Cody in terms of sharing the stage and revenue from that venture.
But Omohundro was so much more than Cody's pecuniary partner. They were good friends and had each other's back in frontier Nebraska for three years before stepping onto a Chicago stage together for Ned Buntline's Scouts of the Prairie and launching what would become the most popular entertainment sensation for decades in the form of Buffalo Bill. And for years after that fateful night in 1872, "Texas Jack" and Cody helped make stars out of Annie Oakley, Doc Carver, "Wild Bill" Hickok and others––begging the question, how did those luminaries thrive in the collective consciousness of America for the next 150 years, while Omohundro remained a stalwart, if lesser known figure?
The easy answer is that he died of pneumonia, in 1880––a few years before Cody exploded onto the national and then international scene with his famed Wild West show. There is more to this, though, and as Kerns illustrates, it's worthy of examination. He summarizes: "While his friends Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill were rendered iconic as the preeminent scout and lawman of the American West, Omohundro's legacy as the first cowboy on the American stage is fundamental to the mythologized Western hero later introduced to the world by Buffalo Bill and personified in the stories of Ned Buntline and Prentiss Ingraham . . . . If the idealized American man is the frontier cowboy, then the genesis of the American cowboy in popular culture is Texas Jack Omohundro, a man who, despite his moniker, was not from Texas." (This reviewer won't spoil the story of how he was given his nickname.)
In fact, Omohundro was born in Virginia. He served in the Confederacy, and later as a civilian scout for the U.S. army during the Indian Wars. In 1869, at Fort Hays, Kansas, "California Joe" Milner introduced Omohundro to Wild Bill Hickok, then the acting sheriff of Ellis County. Later this year, Jack met Cody for the first time, while the latter was scouting for the 5th U.S. Cavalary at Fort McPherson, Nebraska. Cody was instrumental in getting Jack hired on as a “trail agent and scout” for the 5th. Jack soon became known as one of the best trail agents, hunting guides, and Indian fighters on the frontier.
The year 1872 was a pivotal one for both Cody and Jack, the details of which Kerns writes in gorgeous detail, as he also does with Jack's work as a cowboy, and his time alongside Pawnee and other native peoples: "The clouds of dust gradually rise as if a curtain was lifted,
horses stop as buffaloes drop, until there is a clear panoramic view of a busy scene all quiet, everything still (save a few fleet ones in the distance); horses riderless, browsing proudly conscious of success; the prairie dotted here, there, everywhere with dead bison; and happy, hungry hunters skinning, cutting, slashing the late proud monarch of the plains."
As well, Kerns reconstructs the relationships between Jack and other figures such as markswoman Ena Palmer, Louisa Cody, various indigenous peoples such as Pitaresaru of the Pawnee, Ned Buntline, Hickok, and of course, the love of his life, actress Giuseppina Morlacchi, whom he met when she joined Scouts of the Prairie.
Kerns meticulously reconstructs the fascinating––if sadly shortened––life of Omohundro using Omohundro's own letters, newspaper accounts, accounts of various Indian agents and agencies, dime novels, various historical societies, and much more. What emerges is the story of the man who actually was the driving force behind Cody's decision to go into show business, and perhaps was too authentic to shine as brightly as Cody through the ages. Until now.
July 26, 2021
Highly recommended! Have you ever heard of Texas Jack? Me neither. This is a shame, because, during the time he lived he was as famous as Wild Bill Hickok and Buffalo Bill, his contemporaries. I enjoyed learning about the life and times of Texas Jack, in the course of this well-written and extensively researched book. And, what a delight to pick up more details of Deadwood, after falling in love with that extraordinary series years ago. I especially enjoyed learning about his wife, the dancer "Peerless" Giuseppa Morlacchi. Kudos to Matthew Kearns on a masterful piece of research, delving into what could have been, in other hands, a dusty historical treatise.
May 21, 2021
This is the biography we desperately needed to tell Texas Jack Omohundro's story. I first encountered Texas Jack's name while binge-reading everything I could find on Wild Bill Hickok, where Texas Jack's story is told only tangentially as part of his friendship with Wild Bill and Buffalo Bill Cody. Although Texas Jack's name isn't as prominent as it once was, his influence continues to permeate American culture, most especially (for good or for bad) in our perceptions of cowboys, the West, the astonishing changes that happened to the Great Plains and Western landscapes during the mid-to-late 1800s, and relationships between white and Native American populations.
Kerns deftly shows Texas Jack to be a complex human being--smart, strong, sunny, forward-thinking and adventurous, but also struggling with an ever-changing landscape, trying to find his footing in entertainment, and suffering from serious health issues and personal demons. Kerns uncovers many aspects of Texas Jack's history that I've not encountered in anything else I've read, creating a rich timeline for a man who managed to be part of some of the most pivotal moments in 19th Century American history. We also learn more about the people around Texas Jack, including his amazing wife, ballerina Guissippa Morlacchi, who, frankly, deserves her own book.
Although this book is a real treat for those of us who are already interested in the era and have encountered Texas Jack in other histories, it will also appeal to the general history or biography reader interested in understanding how one man's essence continues to shape our perceptions of American history.
Kerns deftly shows Texas Jack to be a complex human being--smart, strong, sunny, forward-thinking and adventurous, but also struggling with an ever-changing landscape, trying to find his footing in entertainment, and suffering from serious health issues and personal demons. Kerns uncovers many aspects of Texas Jack's history that I've not encountered in anything else I've read, creating a rich timeline for a man who managed to be part of some of the most pivotal moments in 19th Century American history. We also learn more about the people around Texas Jack, including his amazing wife, ballerina Guissippa Morlacchi, who, frankly, deserves her own book.
Although this book is a real treat for those of us who are already interested in the era and have encountered Texas Jack in other histories, it will also appeal to the general history or biography reader interested in understanding how one man's essence continues to shape our perceptions of American history.
October 27, 2021
We’re familiar with Buffalo Bill Cody and Wild Bill Hickcock, there was another person of history and folklore that associated with that group that is all but forgotten. Texas Jack Omohundro, Cowboy, Scout, Hunting partner and friend of Buffalo Bill and Hickcock. A figure of western folklore who was popular in dime novels of the day. Who traveled with Buffalo Bills Wild West Show. This is his biography.
June 14, 2021
Texas Jack Omohundro is the real, true cowboy who started it all, and this book tells his fascinating story, from Confederate veteran and Texas cowboy to stage star with Buffalo Bill Cody, Need Buntline, and Wild Bill Hickok. Deeply researched and well written, Matthew Kerns's book is a must-have for devotees of the real roots of the fictional Wild West. Highly recommended!
December 2, 2022
I'm conflicted about this book. I appreciate the passion with which Kerns brings to his subject. He clearly is a great admirer of John B. Omohundro (aka Texas Jack), not only because he is a member of the Texas Jack Association or runs the Texas Jack fan page on Facebook, but also because he obviously went to great pains in researching the life of Omohundro, tracking down old newspaper accounts of the man's life as a cowboy, scout, and actor.
And yet, there were a number of issue that kept nagging at me. One arose early in the text, and for a biography can almost amount to an unforgivable sin: historical inaccuracy. On page 15, referring to the opening days of the Civil War, Kerns wrote, "These tensions came to a boil when federal troops fired on Fort Sumter on April 12, 1861." The date is correct, but the aggressor is incorrect. Federal troops, who occupied the fort, were fired upon by Confederate militia. Now, obviously, anyone can get certain details wrong—and a careful editor could have and should have caught this error—but when you presume to write history, its assumed by your readers that basic facts are correct.
But there was a greater problem nagging me, and it had to do with the writing. Though Kerns is passionate about the life of Texas Jack Omohundro, he doesn't have the storyteller's skill. The structure of the book—and subsequently Texas Jack's life—is episodic. I never got the impression that Omohundro's life was lived as a whole person, but that he had a series of adventures—in the wilderness and on the stage—as if he were a character in one of his plays or one of the dime novels Ned Buntline wrote about him. Texas Jack doesn't come across the page as a fully formed, three-dimensional individual, but rather as a one-dimensional caricature. For example, apparently Texas Jack had two love interests (at least they are the only two Kerns writes about)—Ena Palmer and Giuseppina Morlacchi. In the relationship with Ms. Palmer we get a sense of her feelings for Omohundro, but his feelings for her are misty and unclear. Is this because he didn't leave a historical record about his feelings for Ms. Palmer, or because Kerns could paint the word pictures necessary to give us a clear picture. I believe it's the latter, because in Omohundro's relationship with Ms. Morlacchi, who he later married, there is no sense of the passion and courtship between the couple. And at his death, though Kerns tells us that Ms. Morlacchi was heartbroken, the writing lays flat on the page. It doesn't invite me in to feel sorrow for her loss.
This kind of Joe Friday-style of writing, where just the facts are presented, is revealed in other aspects of Texas Jack's life. Reading this biography of the famed cowboy the reader gets no emotional sense of what life as like as a Texas cowboy—of the difficulties and dangers of life on the trail. There's no sense of the danger in what it was like to rope a buffalo, or even how to go about it. Nor is there an invitation into the depth of feeling Omohundro apparently had for the Pawnee.
At the end of the book, and reason for the three stars, I walked away thinking that Kerns has done yeoman's work in researching the life of Texas Jack Omohundro—a story Kerns is passionate about telling. But passion isn't enough. All the research elements are there for a compelling life story, but a more skilled hand is needed in the telling.
And yet, there were a number of issue that kept nagging at me. One arose early in the text, and for a biography can almost amount to an unforgivable sin: historical inaccuracy. On page 15, referring to the opening days of the Civil War, Kerns wrote, "These tensions came to a boil when federal troops fired on Fort Sumter on April 12, 1861." The date is correct, but the aggressor is incorrect. Federal troops, who occupied the fort, were fired upon by Confederate militia. Now, obviously, anyone can get certain details wrong—and a careful editor could have and should have caught this error—but when you presume to write history, its assumed by your readers that basic facts are correct.
But there was a greater problem nagging me, and it had to do with the writing. Though Kerns is passionate about the life of Texas Jack Omohundro, he doesn't have the storyteller's skill. The structure of the book—and subsequently Texas Jack's life—is episodic. I never got the impression that Omohundro's life was lived as a whole person, but that he had a series of adventures—in the wilderness and on the stage—as if he were a character in one of his plays or one of the dime novels Ned Buntline wrote about him. Texas Jack doesn't come across the page as a fully formed, three-dimensional individual, but rather as a one-dimensional caricature. For example, apparently Texas Jack had two love interests (at least they are the only two Kerns writes about)—Ena Palmer and Giuseppina Morlacchi. In the relationship with Ms. Palmer we get a sense of her feelings for Omohundro, but his feelings for her are misty and unclear. Is this because he didn't leave a historical record about his feelings for Ms. Palmer, or because Kerns could paint the word pictures necessary to give us a clear picture. I believe it's the latter, because in Omohundro's relationship with Ms. Morlacchi, who he later married, there is no sense of the passion and courtship between the couple. And at his death, though Kerns tells us that Ms. Morlacchi was heartbroken, the writing lays flat on the page. It doesn't invite me in to feel sorrow for her loss.
This kind of Joe Friday-style of writing, where just the facts are presented, is revealed in other aspects of Texas Jack's life. Reading this biography of the famed cowboy the reader gets no emotional sense of what life as like as a Texas cowboy—of the difficulties and dangers of life on the trail. There's no sense of the danger in what it was like to rope a buffalo, or even how to go about it. Nor is there an invitation into the depth of feeling Omohundro apparently had for the Pawnee.
At the end of the book, and reason for the three stars, I walked away thinking that Kerns has done yeoman's work in researching the life of Texas Jack Omohundro—a story Kerns is passionate about telling. But passion isn't enough. All the research elements are there for a compelling life story, but a more skilled hand is needed in the telling.
May 2, 2023
A well-written book about a man who helped shape the ideas of the Old West and what we call the American Scouts who led the way He died at the age of 34, unlike his contemporary and friend, Wild Bill Cody. If he had lived, maybe it would have been his name, John B. "Texas Jack" Omohundro, that would be known throughout the world.
August 11, 2023
Good history about a little known cowboy. Similar little known story as frontiersman Simon Kenton. Both are legends we knew little about until now.
December 6, 2023
America's first dime novel star, best friends & partners with Buffalo Bill Cody & Wild Bill Hickock and completely forgotten by Hollywood.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews