The Gymnasium Business--Life in Rochester--First Meeting of Hogan and
Tom Allen--A Disgraceful Affair.
Our hero's next exploit was in Geneva, which town he visited for the
purpose of meeting Dempsey, a local pugilist of some reputation.
It was arranged that a sparring match between the two should take place,
so that Dempsey's friends might decide whether they were willing to back
their man against Hogan.
The exhibition was very largely attended, and excited a good deal of
interest. When the men made their appearance they were greeted with
applause, and their movements were closely watched. Ben had made up his
mind that he would let Dempsey get the best of the match, in order that a
fight might be brought about. This little game would probably have worked
but for the fact that there were some among the spectators who knew Ben,
and knew also what he could do. When these friends saw Hogan playing off,
and permitting himself to be knocked down by Dempsey, they began to cry
out:
"Hold on, Hogan. That won't do!"
Of course Ben, finding himself discovered, was obliged to handle his fists
with his usual skill, and this not only knocked Dempsey, but likewise the
match, into a cocked hat. Nobody was willing to back the Geneva boy, and
the fight accordingly fell through. However, the sparring exhibition
yielded about four hundred dollars, so that the trip was not a failure.
Soon after this, Ben, in company with Snatch Murray, went to Buffalo and
gave an exhibition in that city. Mackey was in the town then, training a
man to fight Cummings, and having failed, as we know, to get the Rochester
champion in the ring, Hogan contented himself by fighting Mackey. The
battle lasted through only four rounds, at the end of which time Mackey
had got enough. Indeed, he had got too much.
Hogan's reputation throughout the central and western portions of New York
had become so well established by this time, that the rumor was common
that he could whip any man in Rochester, Buffalo or Syracuse. Certain it
is that there appeared to be nobody in those cities who seemed anxious to
meet Ben in the P. R.
Cast-Iron Collins, as he was called, came to the front for a short time,
and a fight was arranged between him and Hogan. But while Ben was in
training, Collins backed out, thus showing that the sort of cast-iron of
which he was made was not of a very reliable nature.
After a sojourn of some time in Buffalo, Ben returned to Rochester. He
struck the latter city with the idea of opening a place--and he had no way
of doing it except with a crowbar. He did not resort to this method,
however, preferring to use his wits instead.
Hiring a vacant store, he went to work to fix it up as a gymnasium. It may
be remarked, incidentally, that whenever Ben has been hopelessly "broke,"
he has invariably resorted to the gymnasium as a means of raising the
needful. This Rochester venture did not cost him very much at the outset.
He got everything on credit; stocked the bar by credit and paid people--on
credit. Nobody can say that this was not a perfectly credit-able
proceeding on Ben's part.
The project proved a big success, and business increased so rapidly that
Ben finally concluded to take in a partner. Some laughable incidents
occurred during this period in Rochester.
Ben drove a handsome team of horses, which he hired for the season, and
which gave him the appearance of a man of wealth. While out driving he
frequently met the farmers coming into the city with loads of wood. Purely
for the deviltry of the thing, Ben stopped one of these rustics one day,
told him that he would buy his wood, and directed him to leave it at a
given address. The farmer, thinking that he had made a good bargain, did
as Ben told him, taking the latter's word that he would "settle with him
in a day or two."
As soon as the wood had been delivered, Ben had it immediately sawed and
split, so that by the time the farmer called around for his money, it was
all piled away. The man was naturally mad, but he was informed that he
might take his wood back if he wanted it, only he must first pay for the
sawing and splitting. The price charged for this work was fixed at the
modest sum of twenty dollars--which was twice as much as the wood had
originally cost.
Believing that he had been swindled, the farmer had Ben arrested, but, as
our hero was able to show that he was not worth a dollar, and that he owed
more people than he could remember, there was little satisfaction to be
got out of the law. Hogan sent the wood to a needy family, and enjoyed the
little joke immensely.
If he did this thing once, he did it a dozen times, always sending what he
got from the prosperous farmers to the poor of the city. When he happened
to meet one of his victims on the road, he would draw up most politely,
and say:
"Ah, that little bill of yours! I had forgotten all about it. Call around
at my place when I am in!"
And with that he would touch up his horses, and go whirling away.
The trouble was that whenever the farmers did call around at his place,
Ben was sure to be out. That was one of his fixed rules.
On another occasion, the man whom Ben had "stood up" for his cigars, came
to him and wanted some money the worst way. Ben learned that this man was
owing a number of his employees, and that the workmen could not get their
pay. He entered into an agreement with some of the hands, whereby they
might get a part of what was due them. When the cigar manufacturer came
in, Ben laid down thirty dollars on the bar, saying:
"There you are, sir!"
But before the dealer could pick up the money, it had been snatched by the
workmen, as Ben knew it would be, and the manufacturer never saw a dollar
of it again.
By way of comforting the fellow for his loss, Hogan proposed a little
game of faro, and bled him out of what money he had. But the chap made
himself more than solid by afterward bucking against a square game.
On still another occasion a pork dealer came into Ben's place, who had
heard a good deal about the notorious Hogan, and who was anxious to see
him. Ben was present at the time and at once met his rural visitor with
the utmost politeness.
"Be you Hogan?" asked the dealer in hogs.
"No, sir," answered Ben, promptly. "Mr. Hogan is not in just at present;
but I am a pupil of his."
"Waal, neow!" said the countryman. "I thought I'd jest drop in here to see
what was going on, you know. I used to box a little myself."
"Well, I'm not much in that line," remarked Ben, modestly, "but suppose we
have a little set-to, just for fun."
This was agreed to, and the pork dealer put on the gloves. For a time Ben
let him get the best of it, merely warding off the blows, without trying
to get in any himself. Then he proposed that they should bet the drinks on
the first blood. The countryman thought he would have to try it once,
whereupon Ben braced up and planted one on his opponent's smeller, which
caused the claret to flow copiously.
"Waal, neow; you got me that time!" exclaimed the countryman. "Suppose we
try it once for the first knock-down?"
As may be easily guessed, it didn't take Ben but a precious short time to
lay out his antagonist, and after the two rounds of drinks had been
ordered and paid for, Hogan told the pork dealer who he really was. Of
course it surprised him, but not quite as much as did another discovery
which he afterward made, and which will be described hereafter.
During Ben's stay in Rochester he had his first public association with
Tom Allen. Allen turned up in the town and gave a sparring exhibition
along with Shedder and Bill Riley, the entertainment closing with a set-to
between Hogan and Allen.
This was the first meeting of the men, and it is well to note that Ben
gave his opponent more than he wanted.
Charley Perkins, who is known among sporting men, from his connection at
one time with Heenan, offered to back Ben for one thousand dollars against
Allen. A challenge to this effect was sent to _The New York Clipper_,
accompanied by the requisite deposit.
It chanced that after the challenge had been sent, Cummings fell in with
Perkins, and told him that he (Cummings) could lick Hogan or Perkins
either.
Perkins reminded the windy Cummings that he had seen Hogan offer to fight
him in Rochester for anything from five hundred dollars to a chew of
tobacco, and instead of accepting the offer, Cummings had slunk away, and
had had Hogan arrested. As for whipping him (Perkins) he did not believe
that Cummings or any of his tribe could successfully undertake that job.
The hot words very soon led to arguments of a more forcible nature--in
other words, the men resorted to their fists. Perkins knocked Cummings
down twice in quick succession. Then Cummings, who entertained some
curious ideas of the pugilistic art, finding that he could not fairly
whip his opponent, bit off a part of Perkins' nose.
This disgraceful proceeding naturally aroused much indignation in
Rochester. It was, indeed, the excitement growing out of the affray which
put an end to the proposed fight between Hogan and Allen. Other
explanations than this have been offered, and it has been openly asserted
that Hogan weakened. The simple statement of facts here given should serve
to quiet all such stories in the future.
As soon as Hogan had heard of the cowardly attack made upon his friend, he
resolved to seek revenge. He hurried to the house in which Cummings was
living, but unfortunately was followed by two officers who had been
detailed to watch his movements. As soon as he entered the house he was
ordered to leave it. Seeing how useless it would be to oppose the power of
the law, he left Cummings unpunished.
Space prevents the further description of Ben's adventures at this time,
save to recount the manner in which he left the city.
The pork dealer, to whom reference has already been made, happened to drop
in a second time, having with him a load of dressed hogs. Ben greeted him
with great cordiality, asked him how he was getting along, and expressed
deep interest in the subject of hogs. After one or two sociable drinks,
our hero surprised his visitor by offering to buy his entire load of pork.
"I will give you," said Ben, "six and a fourth cents a pound," (this was
about the market price) "and you may come in to-morrow for your money."
This proposition was joyfully accepted by our rural friend, who
considered the promise of so high-toned a gentleman as Ben quite as good
as the money in hand. The value of the pork at the proposed price was two
hundred and thirty dollars. Congratulating himself upon having made a
first-class bargain, the countryman withdrew--not however until he had
drunk Ben's good health in a bottle of champagne.
The gymnasium business had begun to wane in Rochester. For that reason
Hogan had determined to give it up. And this resolve perhaps was hastened
by his large investment in pork. He disposed of the stuff for two hundred
and fifty dollars, and having got the money, shook the dust of Rochester
off his feet.
That farmer is looking for him to this day, but, as he was worth forty
thousand dollars, he could abundantly afford to help so worthy an object
as Ben Hogan.