by Jery Payne

On August 2, 1876, Jack McCall entered the No. 10 Saloon in the town of Deadwood in what is now South Dakota, walked up behind “Wild Bill” Hickok, shouted a curse and “Take that!”, and shot Wild Bill in the back of the head. Wild Bill was holding two black eights and two black aces. Ever since, this hand has been called the “dead man’s hand.”

Jack tried to flee but never made it out of Deadwood. The town itself was illegal because the Lakota Sioux tribe owned the land, but then Lieutenant Colonel George Custer had led an expedition that discovered gold, so the town popped up anyway. The federal government tried to buy back the gold fields, but the Lakota were not in a selling mood. Being an illegal town, there was no real law and there were no real courts. The townsfolk put together a makeshift court and tried Jack.

Jack’s defense was that Wild Bill had killed his brother and therefore deserved death. He actually used the “he needed killing” defense. The defense succeeded; Jack was set free.

In 1872, Sitting Bull and his warriors were locked in a stalemate with Custer’s 7^th Cavalry. Sitting Bull was trying to forge the entire Lakota Sioux tribe into a single fighting force. He needed to show that he was the man to lead the entire tribe. The stalemate did not bode well for his leadership and people grumbled, so Sitting Bull gathered up his pipe and tobacco and walked down to the front lines, within range of the enemy’s guns. He sat down with bullets striking all around him. He then lit the pipe and smoked it, seeming to be indifferent to the danger. After taking a few puffs, he called his men to join him. Four warriors braved it but wanted to return after taking a few puffs. Sitting Bull slowly smoked the rest of the pipe, cleaned it out, and casually walked back to his warriors. His legend was made, and, by 1876, he led the entire tribe.

The 1870s West favored the bold risk-taker.

But boldness has its cost. In June of 1876, Custer had looked over a settlement on the Little Bighorn River. Custer could not see the entire settlement, but it was bigger than any he could have expected. The Lakota Sioux, Cheyenne, and Arapaho tribes had come together to discuss war. Custer could see that he was outnumbered, but he probably didn’t understand that it was at least three to one. His biggest concern was that the tribes would melt away and fail to give him a fight. Without a fight, he could not get the victory that would put him back in the good graces of the U.S. Army.¹

Custer needn’t have worried. He faced Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, two legendary warriors who wanted to fight—especially since Crazy Horse had recently defeated the U.S. Army in the Battle of the Rosebud. A few hours later, Crazy Horse and his warriors had killed Custer and half his men and defeated the 7^th Cavalry.

Two months later, Jack McCall bragged about killing Wild Bill, who was a U.S. marshal, in front of another U.S. marshal. This marshal arrested Jack. At the new trial, he was sentenced to hang. Next morning, a U.S. marshal carried out the sentence.

This may seem like ancient history that is foreign to our modern Colorado. But in 1876, the modern world was beginning to take shape. On March 10, Alexander Graham Bell made the first successful telephone call, saying the words, “Mr. Watson, come here, I want to see you.” On February 2, The National League of Professional Baseball Clubs was formed. This league became the National League of Major League Baseball.

A game is rules. Change the rules, and you change the game. Without the rules you have no game. And without rules, you have no order.

The story of 1876 is America lying by a campfire staring up into the stars. The campfire gives light and heat but also smokes and burns, and all the while the stars in the sky are distant, pretty, and spellbinding. You need the light and heat for a time, but the stars fill your dreams. In Deadwood, justice was makeshift, but in Colorado, laws and institutions were coming. For the first time, a telephone wire hummed and a curveball was pitched. The West was changing. The day before Wild Bill gazed at his dead man’s hand, the federal government and Colorado dealt a very different hand to Colorado’s citizens: statehood.

1. Custer had fallen out with the U.S. Army because he had traveled to Washington D.C. to testify to Congress about corrupt kickbacks. While in Washington, he had tarried for multiple reasons, including trying but failing to meet with President Grant to make peace. (Grant’s brother was tangentially implicated in the scandal.) But most people familiar with the situation suspected he tarried because he was having too much fun. Custer had been ordered to lead the 7^th Cavalry west on April 6. Custer’s absence delayed the expedition by two months, so he had technically disobeyed an order, but also, he had angered the commander in chief. ↩︎

by Amanda Clapham, Legislative Council Staff Visitor Services Deputy Manager, Education and Curation

If you are a regular at the Capitol, you have walked by the “Women’s Gold” tapestry on the first floor innumerable times, and you’ve probably marveled at the brilliant colors of the stained-glass Heritage Windows in the Old Supreme Court, the Emily Griffith window on the second floor, north side, and the Virginia Neal Blue window in the Senate. (If you haven’t marveled, please walk over there and marvel immediately). These artifacts feel like they’ve been here forever. But they haven’t.

Colorado is nicknamed the Centennial State because we became a state on our nation’s 100-year anniversary. In 1976, the nation and Colorado went all out for the United States’ 200th anniversary and Colorado’s 100th. In addition to the many activities and celebrations statewide, the Capitol participated by adding several installations that are now so well established: the tapestry and the collection of stained glass. 

The math nerds out there may have already gotten there, but 2026 is our 150th year of statehood! While celebrations are going on throughout the 50 states in honor of the country’s 250th birthday, Colorado’s celebration of its 150th anniversary makes us special. Senate Bill 22-011 created the America 250-Colorado 150 Commission to commemorate this unique anniversary, and the planning began there! Visit the commission’s website to learn more.

While there are activities across the state and country, we have several commemorations planned for the Capitol as well.

An exhibit entitled “Inspired to Serve” opened Friday February 20th; it features all 100 legislators currently serving in the Colorado General Assembly, with pictures of them now and as children. Each legislator has answered two key questions: “What inspired you to serve?” and “What is special about your district?” This exhibit will run through the end of 2026. While our building is historical, the legislature, by its nature, is always looking to the future. This exhibit is meant to inspire Colorado’s future generations to learn about civics and maybe one day run for office themselves!

You may have heard that the official sea level in the United States has changed, making our Mile High Marker incorrect! Capitol staff is working with the Colorado School of Mines to re-measure our treasured marker that resides on the West Steps. If you’re a Capitol nerd, you know that there are three Mile High Markers currently embedded on three different steps, originally measured in 1909 (15th step), and then re-measured in 1969 (18th step) and 2003 (13th step). Both sea level and the accuracy of measurement techniques have changed over time. It’s the latter that the School of Mines will explore as they measure for us, again. Engineering Professor Jeff Holley and his students will be using old surveying techniques as well as GPS to give us the real mile high measurement for 2026.

In Mr. Brown’s Attic, the space above the third floor of the Capitol, there is a scale model of the Capitol building, which is really popular, especially with kids. And what is more popular with kids of all ages than LEGO? The Denver Lego Users Group will be building a scale model of the House and the Senate for the 2026 celebrations. Both fun and colorful, these models will draw the attention of visitors of all ages and act as a gateway to civic education. 

In addition to these exciting projects, the Capitol will be working with History Colorado as well as other cultural, educational, and civic organizations throughout the state, to create one of our biggest and best Colorado Day celebrations EVER! Join us on August 1, 2026, for bands, food, history, entertainment, and some special surprises! Events will take place in Civic and Lincoln Memorial parks, on Broadway, from History Colorado to Colfax, and inside and on the West Steps of the Capitol Building.

This commemoration isn’t just about Colorado’s past 150 years, but also who and what we are as a state right now. It is our chance to tell the future what is important to us (and also to have some fun!).

by Faith Marcovecchio

In February 1861, with Abraham Lincoln about to take office and the Civil War just weeks from breaking out, President James Buchanan signed legislation establishing the Colorado Territory. Immediately, the territory’s first governor, William Gilpin, began thinking about where the capital of the new territory would be. Towns up and down the Front Range vied for the honor, and in the territory’s first years, the center of government moved from Colorado City to Golden and finally, in 1867, found its home in Denver. Now it was time for political leaders to think about a site for a statehouse.

Money was tight, so when contractor and builder Henry Cordes Brown offered government officials a 10-acre swath of land south of town as a gift, they jumped at the opportunity. Years of fundraising followed. In the centennial year of our nation’s founding, Colorado became a state, and soon after, the General Assembly set aside money for a capitol building. Finally, in 1885, a plan and an architect, Elijah Myers, were chosen.

At a time when Colorado’s population stood at 200,000, Myers had an interesting idea: Every agency of state government, including boards, commissions, and all the public servants who worked for those agencies, would be housed within the walls of his simple but grand building. The structure would be so large that it would serve the new state as the sole state government building for generations to come. 

When the State Capitol was finally completed 15 years later, Myers’s grand vision was realized: The legislature’s beautiful bicameral chambers shared a floor with the Colorado Supreme Court. The governor’s office sat across from the offices of the state treasurer, attorney general, and five other executive branch officers. And, perhaps most interesting, on the main floor Myers set aside space to showcase the most powerful influences in nineteenth-century Colorado: Mining, agriculture, and land management.

Walking into the statehouse in its early years was like visiting a museum featuring all that Colorado had to offer. In the west wing, collections from the State Historical and Natural History Society were on display, including pottery, tools, and baskets from Mesa Verde; stuffed birds, bison, bears, and bighorn sheep from Colorado’s mountains and plains; and Civil War-era cannons, firearms, and banners used in the Battle of Glorieta Pass. Down the hall, glittering minerals and polished stone filled cabinets in the Bureau of Mines quarters. In yet another room, the State Horticultural Society displayed the trees, flowers, fruits, and vegetables grown in Colorado. There were even quarters where Union Civil War veterans could gather (until they were evicted in 1897 for too much card playing and carousing).

The treasures found on the Capitol’s main floor, along with the brass chandeliers, marble floors, rose onyx walls, and soaring rotunda above, attracted tourists in droves. But the dome itself was the most important element, marrying the functions of government with the natural beauty that encircled the building. An observation deck offered sightseers, as Myers had hoped, “an unequaled view of the surrounding country.” The architect knew the panorama of the Rocky Mountains from Pikes Peak to Longs Peak was the building’s greatest feature.

As the nineteenth century came to a close and the twentieth century dawned, a variety of embellishments were added. A sweeping staircase rose through the center of the rotunda, replacing cast-iron staircases in the north and south atriums. The copper-plated dome, which quickly oxidized, was covered with gold leaf in a glittering nod to the Pikes Peak gold rush. Brightly colored stained-glass portraits of Colorado pioneers were installed in the rotunda.

Some of these changes were in tune with Myers’s original vision. Others were not. But the building’s greatest promise, that it would hold every office and function of Colorado government for generations, quickly shattered. By 1907, so many new agencies and commissions had been created that the statehouse had reached its limit.  Fewer than 10 years after the Capitol’s grand opening, its managers were looking for a place to expand.

Today, though shiny minerals and taxidermied mammals no longer fill the first floor of the statehouse, the grandeur and beauty of the Gilded Age still make the Colorado Capitol an attraction to tourists from throughout the state, the country, and the world. 

To learn more about the planning, construction, and evolution of the Colorado statehouse, see Derek R. Everett’s book, “The Colorado State Capitol: History, Politics, Preservation,” University Press of Colorado, October 1, 2018, on which this article is based.