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EDITED BY John C. Parish
Associate Editor of the State Historical Society of Iowa
| Volume II |
June 1921 |
No. 6 |
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Copyright 1921 by the State Historical Society of Iowa
(Transcribed by Gayle Harper)
THE PACIFIC CITY FIGHT
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In his article on "The Rise of Sports" Professor Paxson
has pointed out that prize fighting in the United States
suffered a decline after the famous Sayers-Heenan fight in
1860, when the London spectators broke into the ring to
prevent the American from knocking out the English champion.
Boxing did not regain its popularity until the early eighties,
when John L. Sullivan fought his way to notoriety with his
bare fists. In the two decades that intervened pugilists
seldom knocked each other out to the complete satisfaction of
the sporting public. But there were champions in those days,
and challengers who coveted the title, and it was during this
period that an Iowa village became the scene of a championship
"mill", under circumstances that help to explain the obstacles
to be overcome before the sport could flourish.
The
contrast between the fight in Iowa in an improvised ring on
the turf before a few hundred fugitive "roughs", and its
present day descendent, with its elaborate preparations, its
wide publicity, and its enormous stadium, shows a growth
almost as great as the transition from the prairie schooner to
the transcontinental Pullman train. The change in public
sentiment toward affairs of this kind is equally noticeable.
In 1873 the contestants met only after an arduous series of
journeys to elude the vigilance of the constituted
authorities. For the serious minded people of the Missouri
Valley demanded that every effort be made to prevent the
desecration of the soil of their States by such a scene of
brutality The day when society ladies were to patronize the
"pugs" was far distant.
In November, 1873, a steamboat with
an unusual assortment of passengers headed upstream from St.
Joe, Missouri. On board were Allen, who held the belt for the
heavy-weight title, and Hogan, the challenger, with their
trainers and backers, the newspaper reporters, and the fans
who were anxious to see the fight and bet their money. After
the challenge had been issued and accepted, the legal
inconveniences attendant upon an affair of this kind in the
Eastern States had led to the conclusion that it should be
held in the West. Promoters in St. Joe had promised "a fair
field and no favor" and immunity from interference by the
officers of the law.
But the special train from the East
brought the followers of the manly art to a scene of
disappointment. The lid was on in Missouri, and the governor
was sitting upon it. An attempt to stage the "mill" across the
river in Kansas ended in failure.
Nothing daunted by
these untoward circumstances, the crowd chartered a steamboat,
and these strange argonauts started up the river in search of
a convenient spot upon which to determine the championship of
the world. Nebraska proved inhospitable. The governor of that
State borrowed some United States troops to maintain order
while the fighters sojourned in Omaha, and their stay was
brief. Thus it transpired that the pugilists sought the soil
of Iowa as a last resort.
On the morning of Monday,
November 18, 1873, Governor Cyrus C. Carpenter received a
telegram signed by a number of the prominent citizens of
Council Bluffs: "The Allen-Hogan prize fight is to take place
Tuesday in Iowa, and the men are here. We are powerless to
prevent it." Fifteen hundred roughs were reported to be in
Omaha, where the local authorities were unable to cope with
the situation. Governor Carpenter was requested to send
military companies from Des Moines to prevent the impending
disgrace to the city of Council Bluffs and the State of Iowa.
He immediately notified the prominent citizens that if the
sheriff would inform him officially of his inability to
enforce the law without military assistance, the troops would
be sent. He received the prompt response:
I am advised that
the prize fighters will come into the State at this point
tomorrow. From their number I know that I am not able to
arrest them. If the fight is to be prevented it must be done
by stopping them here. I ask the aid of the State in doing so.
There is no armed military company here.
GEORGE
DOUGHERTY
Sheriff of Pottawattamie County
Within
three hours after the receipt of this telegram the available
contingents of the Olmstead Zouaves, commanded by Colonel F.
Olmstead, and of the Crocker Veteran Guards under the command
of Captain W. L. Davis, were ordered out for immediate duty,
served with ammunition, and entrained for Council Bluffs. They
arrived late that night, and were placed in rather
uncomfortable quarters, "but", their commander reported, "as
most of the men were old soldiers, there was no complaint."
Before the arrival of the visiting sportsmen on Tuesday
morning, preparations had been made to receive them. Colonel
Olmstead's report to the Adjutant General describes the
situation. "We were ready for duty", he said, "at about
half-past ten A. M., on the 18th of November, subject to the
order of the Sheriff of Pottawattamie County, when the train
arrived, loaded in my opinion with 'roughs' and men who wished
to see the Allen-Hogan fight. The sheriff should have taken
possession of that train and all the paraphernalia of the
fight, but he did nothing. He could have arrested, in my
opinion, participators in the fight at any rate, and there
were evidences enough for him to do that, but he was not
backed by the moral influence or the good advice of a single
man who induced the Governor to order you to send forward my
command. He was therefore weak and wavering. He would do
nothing ...." The sheriff and the troops were unable to find
either Allen or Hogan on the train. The stakes, the ropes, the
sledges for constructing the ring were thrown into one of the
cars in full view of the officers, but the sheriff still
hesitated. Colonel Olmstead, whose orders placed him under the
command of the sheriff, sent a telegram to the Adjutant
General asking for instructions. Various explanations were
offered for the sheriff's dilatory tactics. "The roughs on the
train," said a newspaper report, "were respectful and
good-natured, and made no secret of saying that the sheriff
had 'been sweetened'." Whether that officer acted on account
of financial considerations, or (as the governor charitably
told the legislature) because of his "confusion as to the law
and the 'overt act', owing to the difference of opinion which
he had heard among the lawyers, " may be a matter for dispute.
At any rate the train pulled out unimpeded. The conductor
refused to take the sheriff and the troops along unless they
had tickets, which no one had provided. The sheriff showed no
enthusiasm for Colonel Olmstead's suggestion that a special
train be chartered to go in pursuit. Before the Colonel could
obtain telegraphic orders from Des Moines to act independently
it was too late.
The occupants of the train had shown
signs of gleeful amusement when informed that the two
pugilists were the only men wanted, for they knew that the
principals were not in the vicinity. Early in the morning
Allen and Hogan, with their trainers, had left Omaha in hacks,
had crossed the ferry, had been driven through the principal
streets of Council Bluffs, and had disappeared. No attempt had
been made to follow them. Six miles south of the city the
train stopped, the fighters boarded it, and the party steamed
ten miles further down the line.
The quiet little village
of Pacific City, just across the Missouri River from the mouth
of the Platte, had been one of those frontier enterprises
whose promoters had expected it to become a western
metropolis. A few years of boom had followed its foundation in
1857, but its prosperity had declined: the history of Mills
County published in 1881 noted that its formerly numerous
churches and Sunday schools had been reduced to a single
Baptist congregation of eighteen members, and that its brick
school house had a capacity more than ample to meet all
demands likely to be made upon it.
The peaceful
inhabitants were no doubt both surprised and interested when a
train of five coaches pulled in and stopped on the siding, and
three hundred sports debouched upon the right of way. A
suitable place was selected, the ring was staked out, and the
spectators hastened to obtain ringside seats. A diversion was
created when the sheriff of Mills County attempted to arrest
the wrong men, but he and his small posse were roughly handled
by the crowd, and told to go about their business.
The
champion tossed his hat into the ring at 11 o'clock. The
challenger was not ready to "shy his castor" over the ropes
until 1:15. The first round opened with " lively, beautiful
sparring by both men." Hogan was the first to reach his
opponent effectively. At the end of this round he scored a
clean knock-down. In the second round the men clinched, and
Hogan got Allen's head under his arm—this was not a foul in
those days—which enabled the challenger to belabor the
champion's physiognomy at his leisure. Allen was much
embarrassed. Unable to extricate himself by fair means, he
suddenly struck Hogan a violent blow below the belt, which
doubled him up like a jackknife.
Roars of "Foul! Foul!"
came from the excited crowd. The referee ordered the fight to
go on. Another blow knocked Hogan down, but he did not take
the count, and was able to keep his feet until time was
called.
At the beginning of the third round Hogan was
evidently groggy from the effects of the punishment he had
received, but he fought gamely until the final catastrophe.
Allen struck him again below the belt. This was too much for
the challenger's overwrought friends. Rushing in with a free
display of knives, pistols, and profanity, they broke down the
ring, and the fight ended in a free for all struggle. Many of
the spectators were knocked down and trampled, but the weapons
appear to have been used with discretion, for there were no
casualties.
By nightfall all the participants were back
in Omaha, and the fight had degenerated into a series of
desultory verbal skirmishes between the now numerous
supporters of Hogan, who considered him unfairly treated, and
Allen's adherents. The referee declared that the fight was a
draw and that all bets were off. The stake holder said that
the men must fight again for the money in his possession and
he was arrested for trying to embezzle the stakes. The
financial backer of the fight wanted to pay the money to
Allen, but a compromise was reached by which each of the
pugilists received $1000.
The determination of the
responsibility for the failure to suppress the bout involved
difficulties. The commander of the troops blamed the Sheriff
of Pottawattamie County. The sheriff's friends explained his
indecision on the ground of inexperience rather than venality.
There were editors who thought that the military authorities
might have acted more vigorously, and that the affair was a
"double disgrace", involving both State and local authorities.
The governor, when he told the legislature, in his message,
how it happened, absolved the officers and troops of all
blame. He informed the lawmakers that the ultimate cause of
the fiasco lay in the absence of any law prohibiting prize
fighting in Iowa. He urged the passage of a statute that would
be preventive as well as punitive. If so salutary a measure
should result from this unfortunate occurrence, he said, the
State would be well repaid for the otherwise useless
expenditure.
Allen afterwards to "Paddy" Ryan, who held
the championship until he was knocked out by the redoubtable
John L. Sullivan. Hogan in after years became an evangelist,
in which capacity he doubtless fought Satan as gamely as he
had fought Allen. And the quiet village of Pacific City, after
a brief period of publicity almost as great as the promoters
of the would-be metropolis could have anticipated, relapsed
into obscurity and pursued the even tenor of its way in a
manner more befitting its name.
DONALD L. MCMURRY
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