The Life and Adventures of Ben Hogan, the Wickedest Man in the World
CHAPTER VI.
First Appearance in the Oil Country--Dance-house in Pit Hole--French Kate--Babylon House--Fight with Bob Donnelly--His Explanation in Court of the Character of his House.
It was in this manner that Ben Hogan first entered the Oil Country--a region where he was destined to become more notorious, perhaps, than any other man who ever entered it.
His first adventure in Pit Hole was the meeting with Jim Linton, who carried with him a pair of boxing-gloves. Ben pretended not to know what they were; but having been taken around to "Heenan's Cottage"--a famous resort for the sporting fraternity--he very soon showed that he could use his hands in a thoroughly scientific manner. This, of course, made him "solid" with the crowd, and he very soon became known.
Nothing better turning up, Ben joined Diefenbach's show, to do general gymnastic business, while young Burke did a lively business in watches. The latter was so industrious that he came in often at the end of a night's work with half a dozen "tickers" in his pockets.
Probably Pit Hole, at that time, was the wickedest place on the globe. The roughest and most desperate classes had centred there. Pistols and bowie-knives were the ordinary adornments worn by pretty nearly everybody. It was no unusual occurrence for half a dozen men to be killed in a day, and if twenty-four hours did happen to pass without somebody's being shot, it set the inhabitants of the town to wondering what was the matter.
At the time of which I am writing, Fred Hill and Dean Wilson came to the town to give a sparring exhibition, and Hogan was trotted out as a "green Dutchman," who would put on the gloves "just for fun." Hill naturally supposed that he had a soft thing, but that idea left him by the time four rounds had been fought. He was so used up that he did not want any more of the "green Dutchman."
From Pit Hole, Ben went to Oil City, where he worked in a variety show, and afterward in O'Hara and Hill's Theatre, keeping order where nobody else could.
He next joined Capt. Smith, and played in Rouseville, Petroleum Centre, and Pit Hole, at which latter place Ben, who carried the "boodle," lost nineteen hundred dollars at faro. That bursted the show, as the captain couldn't make out where the profits were under such management.
Remaining in Pit Hole, Ben's next venture was in the dance-hall and restaurant line, he becoming the business manager for a woman known as Em Fenton. She had conducted the place on a one-horse scale, but Ben ran the trade up to a hundred dollars a day.
No doubt Cal Wagner will remember his visit to the oil regions at this time, and the benefit which Hogan, in connection with Baldy Sauers, got up for him after his hard luck in Pit Hole.
Although Ben had made Em Fenton's house his stopping place, he left there owing the woman six dollars. He next joined "French Kate," a notorious character, with whom Ben was associated for a considerable time. This woman had served as a spy in the Confederate army and had been a companion of J. Wilkes Booth, Surrat and others. In connection with Kate and Fanny White he opened a first-class house, where liquors were served by pretty waiter girls, and where the patrons very soon became quite numerous.
At about this time occurred his fight with Holliday, formerly of Rochester. Although the stakes were only two hundred dollars, it is doubtful whether a more exciting contest was ever seen in the ring. Fully seven hundred persons were in attendance, women as well as men. Pistols and bowie-knives were as plentiful as cigars, and it took a good deal of courage to face such a crowd in a prize ring. Just before the fight, French Kate called Ben to her side--he was then her acknowledged champion, and said:
"Ben, if you lose this fight you shall cease to be a friend of mine!"
Our hero went into the ring, therefore, with a double incentive for winning. After a pretty woman had said what French Kate did to a fellow, it would have been enough to make a parson fight for all he was worth. Marsh Elliott and John Sweeney acted as seconds for Ben. Seven rounds were fought, at the end of which Holliday threw up the sponge, and Hogan was declared the winner. He thus got the purse, and also preserved his friendship with Kate.
After the fight was over, Marsh Elliott began to do some heavy blowing, asserting that he could furnish a man who "could knock the daylights out of Ben Hogan." This sort of talk really had reference to himself, and as Ben was perfectly willing to try conclusions with the man, he invited him to step up whenever he pleased. But Elliott had no idea of meeting Hogan in a fair fight. He shot at him through a window in the hopes of killing our hero, and failing in this attempt, was forced into a fight the next day. Ben disposed of him in four rounds, breaking his nose and giving him a terrible using up. He then secured Ben's arrest, but the tables were turned in court, and he was himself fined twenty-five dollars while Hogan was released.
On the very next day, as Ben was sitting in his parlor, four men entered the room, with the avowed intention of killing him. Hogan arose and said:
"I am unarmed, and only one against four. Give a man some sort of a show for his life. Let me have one revolver, and I'll take my chances against you all!"
Just as these words were uttered, and most fortunately for Ben, a number of friends dropped in to see him, and the would-be murderers cleared out.
The attempt to make way with Hogan did not end here. A job was put up by which he was to be induced to engage in a fight with one "Stonehouse Jack," with the understanding that the latter was to kill him in the fracas. This little plan fell through, however, as Ben met the crowd, and at the muzzle of a revolver made them lay down their arms. Believing his life to be in constant peril, Ben appealed to the authorities, who, knowing the character of the men he had to deal with, told him that he would be justified in shooting any one of them who might attack him. Acting upon this assurance, he fired at Stonehouse Jack, as that worthy was coming out of a dance hall. Unfortunately for society, the ball missed its mark and Jack escaped.
Striking out for fresh fields, Ben went to Babylon, where, in conjunction with French Kate, he opened a first-class sporting house. Babylon was a peculiar place, and fully as wicked as the ancient city of that name. There were only eight houses in the town, and six of these were gambling houses. The inhabitants were not over-pious, as may be imagined; and a more desperate set it would be difficult to find.
Ben went on in advance, and fitted up the house in two day's time, doing pretty much all of the work himself. He then telegraphed for some friends, and they set out in a hay-wagon. That was a memorable night in Babylon when these sports arrived and Ben's place was opened. The whole were pretty well primed with wine, and they made the town ring with their songs and laughter. Crowds of people from the neighboring country gathered about the wagon. The boys shouted and the men shouted back. When the whole had entered the house, a grand rush was made for admission. Ben sold them tickets till the place was jammed, and than stood at the door, with revolver in hand, to prevent any more from attempting to enter.
During the nine months which Ben spent in Babylon, adventures crowded one another in such rapid succession, that I can only touch upon some of the more important ones.
Among Ben's rivals in business were the Shay Brothers, who succeeded, on one occasion, in getting away his musicians. It was a Saturday night, the place was crowded, but it was impossible for the crowd to be jolly without music.
Ben went around to the rival house, entered the bar-room, and saw his band playing away at their posts. He took one square look at them, and then, suddenly seizing a champagne bottle in each hand, he let them fly at the heads of the musicians.
Lightning is supposed to travel a greased pole at a pretty lively rate, but the way those musical chaps vanished before Ben's bottles beat any lightning all out of time. The leader wasted a couple of shots in firing at Hogan, and that was all the resistance that was offered. Naturally enough, the sight of champagne bottles traveling through the air without any fixed destination, threw the whole place into an uproar. Ben had entered with the intention of clearing out the house--and he proceeded to do it without any waste of time. A stray blow with a bottle broke Tommy Shay's arm. Then Ben knocked over boxes, and kegs, and barrels, sent the glasses spinning around in every direction, broke everything that there was to break, and closed up the place in amazingly short order.
The Shays got out an indictment against Ben for this little proceeding, but when he met them with a counter charge of selling liquor without a license, of keeping a disorderly house, and various other offenses, they concluded to let the matter drop.
It was at about this time, also, that Ben had his fight with Bob Donnelly. Some of the sporting papers talked of this as a "snide" affair, and refused to give either of the men credit for the battle. As a matter of fact it was an exceedingly hot fight, occupying thirty-six rounds, and being won by Hogan only after a tough struggle. The contest took place near Fort Erie, and was witnessed by only twelve men on a side--a fact which led the papers to doubt its genuineness.
Keeping as many sports as Ben did in his place it became necessary, at times, to devise some means of entertaining them--for Babylon was not a very big town, and the sights were limited. On one occasion Ben enlivened Sunday by getting up a hurdle-race, which was contested by girls in short skirts. Of course a big crowd turned out; the girls never troubled themselves about the purse of one hundred dollars which had been offered (on paper), and Ben did a flourishing business over the bar.
At another time he dressed up fifteen of the boys in girl's clothing, mounted them upon horses, and, acting himself as the general of this feminine army, made a week's tour of the oil regions. Every town that was then of any importance was visited, and it need hardly be said that the company picked up a good deal of stray money.
Perhaps one of the most amusing dodges which Hogan originated, was his pulley-weight trick. He had a set of ordinary weights, such as are found in every gymnasium, but he made them pay more than such apparatus ever did before. This is how he worked it: Taking the occasion when the place was full of loungers, he would walk up to the pulley-weights himself, and placing his back to the board draw them out, at the same time pretending to use a great deal of strength. Then he would step back, remarking:
"I don't believe there's anybody in the house that can do that!"
Somebody would immediately try it, and, of course, pull the weights up with perfect ease--they weighed only thirty-six pounds. Then somebody else would want to try it, and after a dozen or so had shown off their strength, Ben would say:
"Well, by thunder, you're a muscular crowd! But I tell you--it's one thing to lift up the weights, and another to keep 'em up. Now I'll bet the drinks for the house that you can't hold the weights up, say for two minutes!"
There would always be enough ready to accept this bet. Having got somebody holding on to the weights, Ben would have a negro, who was trained for the purpose, go around outside of the building, where the ropes came through, and just as the fellow inside had braced himself for the pull, the darkey would give such a jerk as to hurl him back with a good deal more suddenness than was pleasant. Of course the victim had to stand the drinks for the party, and the money went over the bar.
Even a more fruitful source of income than the pulley-weights was the interesting little game known as three-card monte. In this Ben was assisted by Hank Johnson, who could manipulate the pasteboards with surprising skill. Ben acted as a sort of general patron of the game, always sympathizing with the fellows who lost, and frequently putting in money himself to help make up a stake. He felt very sorry to see his rural friends lose their money--very sorry indeed. But for all that, he didn't object to sharing the profits with Johnson. Three-card monte is what Hogan used to call "catching suckers by wholesale," and that was an excellent name for it.
One case, in particular, was most amusing. A highly respectable old chap from Titusville came in one day with a load of fish. After he sold his stock he was introduced to Hank Johnson, who was illustrating the way they used to draft men in the South.
"You see," said Hank, "they would throw down three cards in this manner. Well, if a man could pick out the queen, he wouldn't be drafted; but if he didn't hit the queen, he was a goner!"
"Waal, now, I want teu know if that's the way they did it!" exclaimed the first dealer. "I'll bet if I'd a been down there they wouldn't a drafted me!"
"You think you could have picked out the right card, do you?" asked Johnson, carelessly.
"Think? Why, Lord bless you, I don't think nothin' about it; I _know_ I could!"
"Well, suppose you try it once, just for fun."
Johnson threw down the cards, and, sure enough, the Titusville man picked out the queen.
"You wouldn't want to bet five dollars that you could do it again, would you?" observed Hank, playing with the pasteboards in an unconcerned manner.
"Wouldn't I, now?" said the fish-dealer. "You jest believe I would!"
So saying, he pulled out five dollars, planked it down, and for the second time turned the queen.
All this time Ben had been watching the game, and now the Titusviller turned to him and whispered:
"Why, Lord bless you, I can pick out that kerd every time. Don't you see it's got a mark on it?"
Sure enough, the queen did have a mark on the back, and the only wonder was that Johnson hadn't discovered it. Probably he would if he hadn't made the mark himself.
"Go him fifty this time," suggested Ben. "Here, make it a hundred, and I'll stand in with you."
Hogan slipped some bank notes in the countryman's hand, and the latter bet his pile on the throw.
"There she is!" he exclaimed, laying his finger on the card with the spot on it.
Johnson turned it over, when, to the Titusviller's amazement, it proved to be the ten-spot of clubs, instead of the queen.
He didn't have much more to say, except that he hoped they would keep the matter quiet, as it would injure his reputation if it got out. He was a church member, he said, and never did take much stock in cards, anyhow. As he had lost Ben's money as well as his own, he was allowed to go, only upon promising to bring another load of fish by way of payment.
Another of the incidents which I shall proceed to relate was, perhaps, the spiciest of all Ben's adventures in Babylon.
The woman Em Fenton, for whom our hero had at one time acted as manager, had drifted into Babylon and established a sporting house there. She had been, and for that matter still was, desperately in love with Hogan. Of course, French Kate became an object of intense hatred to this former favorite, who saw her place taken by another. Jealousy led her to commit an assault upon Kate, and it therefore became the duty of Ben to show his gallantry by resenting the insult.
Providing himself with a keen-edged ax, he paid a visit to the Fenton woman's place, and informed the astonished inmates that he had come for the purpose of chopping down the house. With this remarkable introduction, he began to hack away at the door-posts, frightening the women half out of their wits. He didn't go quite so far as to chop down the whole house, but he smashed things generally and raised a big row.
Thirsting for revenge and maddened by jealousy, Em Fenton made a complaint against Hogan. This led to the arrest of the latter by the sheriff. The occurrence was particularly tantalizing just at that time to Ben. He was expecting to leave Babylon shortly, and the idea of being detained by a law-suit, to say nothing of the chances of his conviction, was anything but pleasant.
He offered the deputy sheriff four hundred dollars to release him, but this offer was rejected. I may add that at a future day Ben got even with this official, which exploit will be recounted hereafter. Not only did the deputy refuse the money, but he insisted on taking Ben to Warren, Pa., a distance of thirty-six miles, in a sleigh, claiming that it was not safe to travel by the cars.
Through the snow and slush, Ben was accordingly taken to Warren as a prisoner. He had with him a plentiful supply of money, and upon reaching the town deposited a thousand dollars with the sheriff as security for his appearance in court the next day. Instead, therefore, of passing the night in jail, he sat down to a quiet game of draw-poker, in which he roasted his friend the sheriff to the tune of two or three hundred dollars. This was a good deal pleasanter way of passing the time than being shut up in a cell.
When the morning came the whole town of Warren was in a state of intense excitement. It had become noised about that Ben Hogan--the terrible, the wicked, the notorious Ben Hogan--was stopping at the hotel, and was about to be brought to trial. The court room was packed to its utmost capacity. Everybody was straining his eyes to get a glimpse of the wickedest man in the world. Ben took his seat in the prisoner's dock and quietly awaited the proceedings.
At last the judge addressed our hero, saying:
"Hogan, I find that there are five indictments against you, all growing out of the charge of keeping a disorderly house. I need not specify the charges, as you know well enough what they are. Do you plead guilty or not guilty?"
"Not guilty!" answered Ben. Then rising to his feet, he continued: "If your honor please, I shall be glad to explain this whole matter to you, so that you may judge for yourself the nature of my offences. I will cheerfully answer any question which your honor sees fit to ask."
"Very well," said the judge. "I will ask you first, what sort of a place is it which you are keeping in Babylon?"
"A restaurant and gymnasium," was Ben's prompt reply. "Open to both ladies and gentleman!"
"What have you got in this gymnasium?" queried the judge, who had himself given a good deal of attention to physical culture.
"Well, the apparatus which is generally found in such places. Dumb-bells, Indian-clubs, boxing-gloves, pulley-weights, rings, bars, etc."
"How many 'ladies' are there in your class?" continued the judge, with a smile.
"Fifteen!" answered Ben, gravely.
"And about how many gentlemen?"
"Oh, between three and four hundred!"
"The gentlemen find it more attractive than the ladies, do they?"
"Well, they all like it," was Ben's reply.
The judge began to think his questions less shrewd than he had supposed, and the spectators relished his disappointment in bringing out evidence of such an innocent nature.
"Now, sir," he continued, "I want you to tell me what sort of exercises you put these ladies through?"
This caused the crowd to break forth into a roar of laughter; but Ben, not at all disconcerted, proceeded to answer the question with all seriousness.
"Light gymnastic exercise is what I call it," he said.
"Would you be good enough to explain what that is?" asked the judge.
"Certainly," answered Ben. "It is a moving of the arms, the body and the limbs in such a manner as to bring all the muscles into play, thus," (here he began to work the upper part of his body to and fro, while the spectators roared aloud). "Practice of this kind," continued Ben, "is most beneficial to the whole system. It is better than trying to lift heavy weights, in which there is more or less danger of overstraining oneself. The body exercise can be taken by anybody, no matter how weak. It's a great thing!"
"I should say so!" interrupted the judge.
"Yes," resumed Ben, "it does persons a great deal of good, and in order to know how much they are improving, their relations come around frequently to witness their performances, and to judge of what progress they have made, both in health and strength."
This called forth a fresh outburst of applause; but Ben preserved the utmost gravity.
"I may say to your honor," he went on, "that this subject is not understood by the great mass of the people in this country. They do not take exercise enough. They shut themselves up in offices and shops, over-tax their energies, eat unwholesome food, and as a consequence become dyspeptic, sallow-faced, and miserable. Now, if they would spend a few hours each week in a gymnasium, it would do them more good than all the doctor's pills that were ever made."
"Upon my word," exclaimed the judge, "you are not the sort of man I had supposed from what I had heard of you. I thought that you must be a monster, but I find that you are very much of a gentleman."
This compliment was greeted by a round of applause from the spectators, all of whom had been won by Ben's ready wit and intelligent bearing.
"I think you will find, sir," rejoined Ben, "that the monsters are those who have pressed these charges against me."
"Well, perhaps that is so," said the judge. "However, it is my duty to hold you, and I will therefore put you under two hundred dollars bonds."
"That is certainly kind," observed Ben. "I expected that you would make it fifteen hundred!"
"The next time you appear before me I shall."
"But I shall never appear here again!" rejoined Ben. And he never did.