LVI.
MARSHALL COUNTY’S ONLY PRIZE FIGHT.
An
epoch in the history of Marshall County occurred by a prize fight at
Baugherville, on the Lake Erie & Western Railroad, about nine miles
northwest of Plymouth, between Lou C. Allen of Chicago, and H. C. Hammer of
Michigan City, middleweights, on the evening of April 30, 1891, which was to
have been a fight to a finish, and would have been had it not happened that
Sheriff Henry L. Jarrell was informed of the affair and with two deputies,
Eugene Marshall and Wm. T. Leonard, and William Klinger, marshal of Plymouth,
pounced upon them and put a stop to the
308
HISTORY
OF MARSHALL COUNTY.
fun
just as the first round was being finished, the particulars of which will be related
hereafter. The writer of this history cannot afford to, allow as important an
historical event as this to go unrecorded as showing the trend of public
opinion in regard to this particular line of amusement. It will not be
necessary to mention the names of any of the spectators, a large number of whom
were present, and therefore only the names of the principals are deemed
necessary to be given in this connection.
On
the afternoon of the eventful evening a number of the "boys" in the
county seat were let into the secret that a prize fight was to take place at
Baugherville, northwest of Plymouth, between 11 o'clock that night and 3
o'clock next morning, and the favored few who were let into the secret were on
tip-toe of expectation, and preparations were made to pull out quietly by
livery teams about 9 o'clock. The secret was to be kept from Sheriff Jarrell,
and from those who would likely give him a pointer in that direction. Up to a
certain point in the proceedings everything worked like a charm, and in
birdological parlance "the ornithological webb-footed specimen of
stupidity was altitudinally elevated." The night was dark and the corduroy
road through the woods was more than ordinarily rough. Some of the drivers lost
the direct road and went a considerable distance out of the way; others ran
into "chuck holes," breaking a spring or single tree or something of
that kind, but where there is a prize at the end of the goal there is always
found a way to reach it. On they went, helter-skelter, an occasional lighter
vehicle and a faster team passing those in the lead, and in this way, after an
hour and a half of intense expectation the place was reached. The prize ring
was in a large barn near a saw mill and a lumber yard near the Lake Erie &
Western railroad, a short distance northwest of Tyner. Lumber was piled up and
scattered about everywhere, and there were acres of saw logs and slabs and log
wagons; and there were no lights about to indicate that there was any- thing
unusual going on, and those w ho were not familiar with the lay of the land had
to feel their way in the dark. The Lake Erie fast train from the north had
arrived at 11 o'clock, bringing the pugilists and about 150 sports from
Chicago, Michigan City and other points along the line, and it was but a short
time until the preliminary arrangements had all been completed. A twenty four
foot ring had been measured off, the building was gorgeously lighted, and in
the glare of the kerosene the lamp of Aladdin would have cast but a faint
glimmer. The 175 spectators who had each paid an admission fee of $5 were
seated about the ring as conveniently as circumstances would permit, and the
remainder were stowed away in the haymow, in balcony rows, one above another,
from which elevated position they were enabled to look down upon the
interesting spectacle before them through the large opening in the center.
The
gladiators were stripped to the skin and took their places in the ring,
accompanied by their backers, trainers, seconds, umpires, spongers and assistants,
and nearby were a couple of reporters for two of the leading Chicago dailies.
The doors of the barn were locked and guarded, and the doorkeeper was ordered
not to admit anyone under any pretext whatever. Time was called and the
pugilistic pounders came smilingly to the scratch. They knocked away at each
other with all the strength they possessed, and from the appearance of the
bruises on Hammer's face there was no doubt
309 HISTORY
OF MARSHALL COUNTY.
but
they meant business from the word "go." The first round was a
success, and applause greeted the bruisers as they retired to their corners to
be rubbed down and catch their wind.
It
was late in the evening when Sheriff Jarrell was informed of what was going on.
He and his deputies pulled out from the county seat shortly after 9 o'clock and
drove rapidly toward the seat of war. He had the misfortune to break his buggy,
which delayed him several minutes, and he did not arrive until just as the
first round had been fought. The sheriff and his deputies alighted hitched
their horses and asked the doorkeeper to be admitted. That distinguished
dweller in the tents of iniquity informed, them that under no circumstances
could they be admitted, where upon the sheriff jerked the latch off, opened the
door, and he and his deputies rushed in upon the pugilists and their
assistants, who were standing in the ring , ready to commence the second round.
Then ensued a scene of consternation which no pen can describe. There was a
general stampede for the door and in the rush and confusion several were run
over and knocked down; some of the lights were turned out and for a few minutes
it seemed that pandemonium had been turned loose. Both principals escaped the
officers and got out of the building with only their thin fighting suits on. In
the melee that ensued Ed Corey, trainer, and Con Cavanah and Dick Ford,
seconds, were captured. The remainder got away. Hammer, one of the principals,
found it was so cold with only his tights on that he could not stand it, and in
returning in search of his clothes was captured by the sheriff. Allen, the
other principal, took the railroad track north as fast as he could run and
never stopped until he reached Walkerton, where he boarded a freight train for
Michigan City, and thus made good his escape.
The
spectators - well, they were panic-stricken, and, if anything, were worse
frightened than the fighters. When the sheriff and his party entered, the
rapidity with which that audience dispersed has never been equaled in this part of the country.
They did not stand upon the order of their going, but they went at once. It was
every fellow for himself and the devil take the hindmost. As soon as they got
out of the building they took to the woods as fast as their legs could carry
them. They tumbled over one another, went head over heels over saw logs, log
wagons and lumber piles, skinned their shins and bruised themselves up
generally. Those who were in the hay loft, and most of them happened to be
Marshall county fellows, were all captured without an effort. They had climbed
up on a ladder which had been removed when the fight began, and there they
were, prisoners and unable to make a move for liberty. So they scrambled back
as far as they could and covered themselves with hay, except their feet, which
stuck out in irregular sizes all around the first row, and waited further
developments. The suspense did not last long. One of them came near smothering
in the hay and yelled out, "Put up that ladder; I can't stand it with this
d-d gang any longer." The ladder was put up, and you would have just died
laughing to have seen capitalists, merchants and business men, old men and
young men, bald heads and gray heads, married men and single men, backing down
that ladder with hayseed in their hair , and on their hats and all over their
clothes. As he reached the floor one of them remarked: "What in ---- would my wife say if she could see me
in this fix ?" And the other fellow replied, "Damfino." They
were greatly
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HISTORY
OF MARSHALL COUNTY.
relieved
when Sheriff Jarrell informed them that he had no use for them and that they
could go about their business. The fun was over, the pro- cession re-formed,
and, headed by the sheriff and his four prisoners, slowly and solemnly wended
its way homeward. "
The
next morning Hammer, one of the principals, and the three others who had been
arrested, appeared before Justice Harley Logan, waived examination and were
bound over to court in bonds of $300 each, which was furnished, and all were
released. When court convened Dick Ford was released; the others pleaded
guilty, were fined $50 each, which was promptly paid, and thus ended the only
prize fight ever witnessed in Marshall county.