Hollywood has idealized saloon duels with flesh-and-blood Lucky Lukes, gunslingers faster than their shadow. A recent example is The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, by the Coen brothers. The reality, however, should have been more like the scene in which William Munny (Clint Eastwood) kills Little Bill (Gene Hackman) in Unforgiven.
Screams, holstered weapons, stray bullets and errant shots almost at the muzzle. This was the truth, and not what the cinema usually presents. What no one will ever dispute is that the canteens of the West were very violent scenes. The names of some places are revealing, such as the Bucket of Blood, the Gibrell de Sang, from Virginia City.
And yet, the Bucket of Blood is light years away from the Bird Cage, the Tombstone Cage, the city of the duel at the OK Corral, an arch-famous shootout. One of its protagonists was Sheriff Wyatt Earp, whose family also ran brothels and canteens. Or brothel canteens, as many of these premises were. This is certainly the case with the bloody Bird Cage.
Numerous businesses began as cabins in wild corners of California, Colorado, New Mexico or Arizona, among other states then without law. A thatched roof and a bar where beer and whiskey were served, among other liquors that the clientele passed on despite their dubious quality. As villages grew, especially if gold or silver was discovered nearby, taverns grew. The cabin gave way to the saloon.
Drinks (and lunches) were no longer the only incentive to go through those cinematic swing doors. Alcohol got better (or at least it didn’t mix so much with God knows what). Beans and longhorn meat (like that of the steaks in The Man Who Killed Liberty Valance) were complemented by other, more careful preparations. And gaming tables and shows began to proliferate…
The Tombstone Bird Cage was precisely the Cage because it had 12 small boxes, the cages where prostitutes worked or exhibited. In 1882, The New York Times published that the Bird Cage Theater was highly unrecommended: “There is no night place more hooligan, obscene and perverse.” Not bad for a company that had been founded only a year earlier.
This relic of the West, where the curious can count up to 140 bullet holes, had several lives and can still be visited at 535 E Allen St, Tombstone, Arizona. Between 1881 and 1892, at least 26 people died there by being shot, stabbed or poisoned. The building was later used as a warehouse and again as a canteen until in 1967 it was reborn as the museum and tourist attraction it is today.
“Tall, brunette and slim”, the chronicles describe her. She must have been almost a teenager too, if syphilis hadn’t already sapped her beauty. The Bird Cage was not the only brothel in Tombstone. Crystal Palace was the competition. One of the prostitutes in this second saloon was Little Gertie, who could not bear to see a former client in the arms of another, Margarida, whom she stabbed to death. Too much blood to not attract the seekers of the golden hen. The most violent cantina in the West has appeared in countless television programs dedicated to the paranormal world, which have made pilgrimages to Tombstone in search of unexplained phenomena. The same company that runs the business has exploited this vein and asks visitors to send the “ghostly photos” they take to the website.
The staff say they have seen supernatural presences. Spectral figures of women. Melodies on pianos that no one plays. Laughter in empty rooms. The museum assures that “at night you can hear inexplicable noises, as if the old West was still in full swing”. The secret is simple. Anyone who grew up with Sunday matinees and double screenings at neighborhood cinemas knows this. The saloon remains open.
