USA > Indiana > Vanderburgh County > Evansville > History of the city of Evansville and Vanderburg County, Indiana, Volume I > Part 13
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closed their doors and the merchants would go to a large vacant common which now is filled up by Chandler Avenue, Blackford Avenue and Mul- berry street, there to engage in a game of town ball. Among the best play- ers of that time were John Wymond, who for many years was in the paper business here, William E. Hollingsworth, Thomas J. Hollingsworth, Ed- ward E. Law, Dr. I. Haas, the late Wiley Little, Samuel E. Gilbert, Henry Dodge, Billy Caldwell, Billy Baker, John S. Hopkins and a number of others who were the leading men of Evansville in those days. The play- ers used a large rubber ball, solid and almost the same size as the league ball now in use. To catch the ball on the bounce or after it had hit the ground the first time, was considered perfectly fair. This would be a joke at present. There was only one base or home plate where the batter stood. There was only one batter of course and no catcher and the game was simply like batting flies for practice at any league park, with this exception. Whenever the fielder (and they were all fielders except the man who stood at the bat,) caught the ball either before it struck the ground or before it struck the ground the second time, he marched in, took his place at the bat and tossing up his own ball ( for there were no pitchers), knocked it as far as he could. The great point of skill was in knocking the ball so that it would not bounce. In other words, in knocking grounders or in knocking it as far as he could, so that the fielders could not catch it on the bounce from where they were stationed. I remember that my father, the late Samuel E. Gilbert, took a great interest in the game and would as soon have missed the Sunday morning choir as he could his Saturday afternoon ball game and he imagined that he was a great catcher, but one day he got directly under a high fly which slipped through his hands and struck him exactly on the bridge of the nose and for two weeks he had about the worst pair of black eyes ever seen in the city of Evansville. This club played for several years and even after base ball had gotten a start some of these old timers imagined that the new game would be equally as simple as the old one. So on a certain afternoon a lot of the old merchants, all of whom had been town ball players, challenged the clerks for a game. This was pie for the clerks, but the old timers did not know it. We all went to the park and I suppose through having a relative in the game, I was selected as pitcher and used nothing but a plain drop ball, but there was not one of those old timers who hit any closer than about one foot from it, and they actually had the nerve to order me from the plate on the grounds that I was not playing fair. When their turn came to pitch, what we did to those straight balls was good and plenty. I do not remember the score, but I do remember that that was the last time the old timers ever challenged any of the younger generation. They seemed to realize that things had changed since their day. It was in the '50s that Charlie Wentz a dashing young college graduate from the east, came here and was ap- pointed agent of the Adams Express Company, which was then in Chandler block where the barber shop now is. He was the first one to introduce the
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regular game of base ball in this city and was assisted by the late Emerson B. Morgan, also an eastern man, and George Bartlett, the young member of the firm of John H. Bartlett & Co., who were in the dry goods business here.
This was in the year 1866. I do not remember just where they first played but it was on the open grounds and a huge back stop of boards was put up just behind the catcher. The game at that time was new, even in the east and the rules far different from what they are at the present. The pitcher had a great deal better show as did the batter and such scores as two to one or even 10 to 5 were unheard of. They generally ran be- tween the 20's and the 50's.
It was in 1882 that Evansville first had a regular semi-professional ball team and the first grounds were at Bedford park which was the ground this side of the tri-state fair grounds. A professional pitcher and catcher, Messrs. Hungler and Strueve were engaged. Among the players were Ed. Heberer who played center field, Sham Scheurer, who afterwards joined professional ranks, Al Vogel and Arth Saunders, who was then and is today, the best pitcher ever turned out in this section of the country. These grounds were never laid out very well and the grand stand was a frail af- fair, which, during an exciting game one afternoon, fell down. It was crowded with people and the entire supports gave way with one crash but so closely were the people packed that the only accident was the breaking of the ankle of one of the spectators. It was always a great wonder that many were not killed but the stand seemed to sink down towards the earth instead of breaking apart and this accounted for the lack of serious acci- dents. In 1883 and 1884 a new park was used at the corner of Mary- land streets and the Belt railroad. Here we had a professional team man- aged by Billy Harrington, and Ollie Beard, who afterwards became a great player, and Lem Sowders, Red Bittman and Decker, who afterwards be- came a great catcher, all played with this team. Decker was the inventor of the first big mitt ever used by a catcher, and made a fortune out of it. He afterwards played in several big eastern teams. Walton Goldsby played left field and the great Sam Thompson who became such a star, played center field. Dan O'Leary, the pedestrian, afterwards became man- ager of the team and their club house was in the brick building which stood back of a beautiful front yard between Jacob Meyer's saloon and. the E. B. A. building on Second street. This house was built originally by a Mr. Fatman, who came here from the east in the great tobacco days and was sold by him to George P. Hudspeth, the father of Mrs. Edwin Walker and Mrs. Mina Laughlin, who at that time was a very wealthy man and who engaged in the tobacco business and the wholesale dry goods business after his removal to this city.
This club of which I have just spoken was composed of crack ball players. They did not belong to any league but they beat the great Union Pacific team, went to Louisville and St. Louis and beat their teams and
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then to Cincinnati, where they beat the crack Cincinnati team which at that time was supposed to be the best team in the west. Since that time Evansville has been represented in the Southern, the Three I and the Cen- tral leagues. One of our old managers was Phil Reccius of Louisville, who played third base for several seasons here. Among the managers have been Ollie Beard, Al Schellhase, who developed into a magnificent ball player and held high positions all through the east, until through an acci- dent he lost his eye, Tom News, Jimmie Ryan, Punch Knoll, a home prod- uct, Walton Goldsby and Stallings, who is now with the New England Highlanders. It is a matter of fact that Arth Saunders who now resides here, pitched the first curved ball ever pitched in Evansville. It was an invention of his own. When he felt like pitching there was no team that ever had any show against him. He had what they called a Floater. : He would throw a couple of very swift balls and then releasing his thumb hold, would send a floater with the same arm action that he used on the others, but this ball was very deceptive and the batter would strike at it before it reached him. Saunders and Schellhase had golden opportunities. They were in demand everywhere. A southern gentleman who happened to see them pitch in Evansville and was completely thunderstruck with their battery work, was in Selma a few weeks afterwards when Selma and some other southern cities were in the midst of a hot contest. He told some of the magnates of the Selma team of the wonderful battery of boys that he saw in Evansville, Indiana, and told them that if they could secure them, they could wipe out any team in the south. They at once wired Saunders for terms and as I happen to know this incident, here it is.
Schellhase was a furniture turner by trade and was hard at work turn- ing out bed posts, when Arth went down to see him. When Arth showed him the telegram, his eyes nearly popped out of his head and he said, "Now here is a chance for us but we musn't ask too much."
"About what do you think would be right?" asked Saunders.
"About $25 a month apiece," replied Al.
At this Saunders sneered and said, "If they want us bad enough to wire for us, we might as well just ask for $roo for the two and be done with it."
Al could not agree with him for this seemed like an enormous sum for those days and urged him to wire back that they would work for $50 and then said to Saunders, "If they refuse to give that, ask $40. That is mighty good wages."
Saunders agreed to this but came down town and wired, "Terms $100 a month and all expenses."
They were accepted like a flash. The boys went down there and Selma not only beat her rival but every other team in the south that they could get to go against them. After that this battery was in great demand but Saunders had decided not to take up ball playing as a business, so the
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partnership dissolved and Al went east where he made quite a record as noted above.
In 1879 the Argus team was started. They were all young men and were supposed to represent the Argus newspaper. There were two pitch- ers Min Saunders, brother of Arth Saunders, and Dick Quimbeck, who lived in Lamasco and who had wonderful speed but pitched a straight ball. Frank Schneider played first base. The late Joe Steele who was then a slim youngster, played center field, while Ed. McNeely was catcher. This little team won quite a number of victories and one day beat the profes- sional Vincennes team, getting $90 for their afternoon's work which was considered quite a fortune by the boys, who were none of them afflicted with too much riches. Ed. McNeely and Jack Chandler in their younger days were two as good little ball players as could be found anywhere. They were both good hitters and when it came to fielding there were few pro- fessionals who could beat them. Another good ball player was Jimmy Best, and Phil Veatch was also a good one before he took on flesh. Dick Stickenbaum was a hard hitter and his favorite stunt was to turn a back somersault out in the field every time one of our boys made a good play. The Haas boys were all good players and seemed to inherit this from their father. The older brother of Punch Knoll was a good player and these boys inherited their love for athletics from their father, who often practiced on the horizontal bar with me when I was a youngster. As it is now, the city has many amateur teams, many of which are capable of making good scores and every little while this city turns out a professional who if he does not make good here, gets a good position in some other club. Jack Law was a fine ball player and a good hitter and made quite a reputation in the south. Of course all are familiar with our team of last year which won the pennant and also know of the present team and this article was written more to give a record of those who in the past upheld the prestige of Evansville as a great ball town.
Of course every little village or small town has had its bad men. This does not necessarily mean that these bad men were always bullies, though often it is the case that the two go together. Back in the old days when the power of the police was not as thoroughly recognized as it is at pres- ent, we had quite a number of men who were continually getting into brawls of one kind or another and who seemed to glory in trying to make reputations of being bad men whom no one could handle. I think .today there is only one man living of the crowd I have in mind, and he has settled down to a staid and sober citizen, so I will not mention his name at all.
About the first one was Dublin Tricks, of whose place I have spoken. He was a prize-fighter but not an aggressive one and on the whole a quiet kind of a man who never sought trouble. Then we had the Flying Dutch- man, who lasted only a short time and then went away. For many years we had an old Englishman whom they called Tailor Billy, who was quite a boxer and had a habit of getting drunk at every opportunity and then
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telling everybody what a bad man he was. But it was after the war that the real fighters began to make themselves felt. There was a man named Watson who ran on the river and who had a habit of knocking down every inoffensive negro he met. He was certainly a hard hitter but among white men not particularly aggressive. Then there was Johnny McLain, who was afterwards a policeman, who was supposed to be a man who would fight at the drop of the hat but I always sized him up as a man with a yellow streak and never did think he would stay in fast company. One- armed George was another and Harry Porter still another and when this crowd got together there was always trouble, until one time a stranger blew in by the name of Gassy Jack, who proved himself such a good rough- and-tumble fighter that when he got drunk and went into a barroom the crowd escaped through doors or windows or anything that was handy. He was champion here for some time until the redoubtable Jim Mulligan took the field. Jim was an Irishman who got drunk whenever he could and seemed to be made out of iron, for it took from three to four police- men to arrest him and when he reached the station he was always battered up until he was a sight to behold, but it never seemed to hurt him, for in a few days he would be out again looking for fresh trouble.
For some little time Jim held the limelight until finally his heart was broken and, as a great many had been reading Jeff's "My Story of My Life," I fail to see why something of this kind might not be of interest to the people of Evansville, as it brings in Tommy Coogan, who is still alive and doing well at the ripe age of sixty-two. Coogan came here from Liverpool, a quiet Englishman and a little fellow, and by chance happened to get down into what is called Whisky Row, where the redoubtable Mul- ligan was making one of his regular speeches about being able to whip his weight in wildcats, etc. Some one approached Coogan, asked him where he was from and he replied, "From Liverpool, England." The conversa- tion went on as follows:
"They have a great many fighters over there, don't they?"
"Yes," said Thomas, "they fight over there for fun."
"Have you ever fought any?"
"Yes, I have had quite a few fights."
"How do you fight over there ?"
"Why, the old England prize fighters use their fists."
"Do you think you could lick that Irishman who is making all that talk at the end of the bar?"
"Yes, I think I can lick him. He doesn't look bad to me."
So the windup of the matter was that they matched Tommy to fight Mulligan in two or three days, not giving him any time to train before the time, though they always thought he kept in pretty good condition. The party of the knowing ones took the barge and went up to a point just above the city and anchored and the contestants shook hands and began. Mulli- gan was simply a child in Coogan's hands. Coogan was an expert boxer
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and before the end of the first round had Mulligan's eyes all out of shape and his face battered up and he then proceeded to polish him off at his leisure and whipped him with hardly a scratch to himself. Of course Evansville felt proud over its new-found champion and Louisville decided to send down its champion, who came and his career was about as long as that of Mr. Mulligan, but after this second victory Coogan gave it out very decidedly that he was not a professional prize fighter and did not propose to fight anybody, and stopped then and there. But the fight with Coogan broke Mulligan's heart and he left this city never to return.
There were some bad men in Lamasco for a time but they kept their fights between themselves and rarely came to the upper part of the city to fight anybody. Again, their style was not very much liked, for they had the very bad habit of allowing several men to jump on one poor fellow and kick him to pieces. Everybody who likes a fight likes fairness and the Lamasco style in those days was certainly not very fair. Mr. D. Evans, the oldest grandson of Gen. Robert M. Evans, was a brave and fearless man, who was rather quiet and got into very little trouble, but I never heard of his having been whipped by anybody. There was also a young man named Newman who was very well able to take care of himself, and I remember a fight between him and a very heavy-set negro named Gover, in which Gover gave him a most beautiful licking. Hen. Scriber was an- other good one. But bringing this matter along a little bit nearer the pres- ent, my esteemed old friend, Billy Bedford, who refused to tell his age a few months ago, was about as handy a specimen with his fists as ever I saw. He came by it honestly, for his father, Pap Bedford, was a fearless man and loved fighting next to his horses. One thing may be said that most of the fights of the bad men were conducted with their fists. Very little cutting or shooting was done. In fact, the tragedy in Mozart hall, when the Evans boys killed each other, was about the only one I remember where pistols were used.
Let it again be understood that not all the brave men were bad men. In those early days a man had to depend to a great extent on his own phys- ical powers. The trouble was that nearly every one drank, and under the influence of the strong liquor of those days hot words came up and free fights, which are almost unknown in these days, often took place right in the public square or on the best streets. Among the old timers were Matt and Lundy Burns, two brothers, who were both splendid fighters. Lundy was killed by a knife thrust in a fight. Wash Beck was also quite a fighter. John S. Gavitt, or Smith Gavitt, as he was called, while not a man who sought a fight, was known to have absolutely cold-blooded nerve of the highest order and would go right up against a pistol. Lute Smith and Wal Smith were two other prominent men who were handy with their fists, while Paul Evans, spoken of above, though a small man, was a man of great nerve. Ted Simpson was quite a fighter and I think was killed by being hit over the head by a crazy man whom he was trying to care for.
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John B. Stinson was another man of nerve, as was also Jim Patton, who lost an eye in one of his fights and was interested with Charlie Fox, who at one time was city marshal here. Billy Payne was another fighter of the olden times. Another very quiet man, but one who could take care of himself, was John Gilman, who came here in 1828 and made the first hats ever made in the city of Evansville. There was a colored man named Ab Bishop. who lived to a good old age here, who was well able to take care of himself but his tastes ran more to fighting chickens and fighting dogs, and I think the first game chickens ever handled here were fought by Bishop, who heeled on one side, and Mr. Gavitt, who heeled for the other, and the lat- ter was quite an expert. It should be remembered that it was considered all right to race horses or fight chickens, or play cards in those days, just so one was not a member of a church. If he had professed religion at the mourners' bench, of course he was supposed to drop everything of that kind. But until that time a chicken or dog fight or a free-for-all fight was supposed to be all right.
NEGRO HAD A LESSON.
I have spoken of a young negro named George Gover. He was born free and was the son of Aunt Sally Gover, who washed for many of the early families here and was almost a second Jack Johnson, except in size. He dearly loved to fight and could hold his own and I once saw him hit on the head with a brick which bounced off without seeming to do him any perceptible damage. But the trouble was that he got spoiled and began to think that it was his duty to cow and abuse every white boy he met, until the other boys decided that it was time to call him down or there would be no getting along with him. So with their usual shrewdness the young fellows arranged a plot. They were all down on Water street when one said, "Let's go up on the sand bar and get some turtle eggs," (for in those days the river was full of soft shell turtles which laid their eggs on all the bars, and thousands of them were gathered every season by the Evansville people, who merely took the track of the old turtle as she went by night to lay her eggs and followed it up until where the tracks turned, and, digging at this point, they found the eggs a short distance below the surface of the sand which hatched them by its heat).
Gover spoke up at once and said he was going, too, but the others told him that he had not been asked and that they did not want him and were going up there with their own crowd, but Gover got up and boldly declared that if anybody went, he would go and he would show them whether they could leave him out or not. So he took his seat in the boat and the white young men rowed up to a sand bar which was about opposite where the new water works now stand. They hunted eggs for a while and then someone proposed swimming and all disrobed. As soon as Gover got into the water his clothes were hastily searched and his knife and whatever he
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had in the pockets buried out of sight in the sand and then the whole crowd jumped on him. He could have whipped any one or possibly any two, but with young fellows all over him, hanging to his legs and arms, and others hitting him with their fists, for no weapon was used at all, he was soon so badly battered up that he was glad to yell "enough." Then the boys made him promise to turn over a new leaf, which he did. After that there never was a more polite young fellow. He had had his lesson just when he deserved it.
But for cool nerve, about the best example ever seen here was shown by John Ingle, Jr., who was the grandfather of quite a number of the Ingle boys and was one of the first men interested in the E. & T. H. rail- road. He was a lawyer by profession and a very small man and sparely built. In fact, I doubt if he weighed more than 120 lbs., but he was very quick on his feet and was a very fearless man. There was an election here held at the old market place and as usual a barrel of whiskey was put up on a box, the head knocked in and tin cups placed all around, for in those days to drink a tin cup full of whiskey was not considered out of the way. The average drinker of today who pours a tablespoonful of whiskey into a glass and then waters it and thinks he has a drink, would shudder at the sight of these old timers filling a tin cup to the brim and drinking it down without a drop of water on the side. Of course with so much stimulants free to all, elections in those days meant a tolerable peace- ful morning but a continuous fight all the afternoon and many of the bet- ter citizens had tried to break up this habit of placing out the free whiskey but were always voted down by the rougher element who took it for granted that elections, whiskey and free fights always went together. On this par- ticular day Mr. Ingle went about noon himself to the old market and look- ing into the barrel and seeing that it was only about half empty, he sud- denly put his shoulder against it and tipped it over before any one there thought of interfering and before it could be tilted back, of course every drop was wasted. Mr. Ingle jumped back, as a great cry arose to lynch him, beat him, etc., but he stood with his back up against the building and dared any man to lay hands on him. It is very probable that these rough men took it for granted that he had a perfect arsenal of fire arms on him, but the fact is, as demonstrated afterwards, that Mr. Ingle had only a small pocket knife. It was a case of good cool nerve. This one deed had such an effect on the minds of the public, that free whiskey opened to all in a barrel, was never put out in Evansville afterwards. There were sometimes free-for-all fights among the early firemen. Each company had its one best man who was always ready to fight the best man in any other company, but as a rule they had so much to do at the fires, that the fight- ing spirit had little chance to crop out and though there were occasional ructions, they were really few and far between. There were also many fights at the first horse races.
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All these things occurred, of course, before we had a police force and with only one town marshal to protect the whole city, it can easily be seen that even the very bravest man who could be put in that position, would have his hands more than full in trying to stop a fight where from a dozen to 20 men were all engaged in pounding each other. But after all, the fighting was not so bad and for the simple reason that in those days men did not seem to hold grudges against each other. Nowadays if a man has a spite against another, he seeks to do him up in a business way or he is inclined to tell preposterous tales behind his back and the aggrieved one may go on for years, knowing nothing about it. But in those days when two men had a quarrel, they simply fought it out until one yelled "enough" and not one blow would be struck after that. In fact, there are some still living who know that the man who would srike a prostrate foe after he had once cried "enough" would be liable to be whipped immediately by half a dozen men standing around. After the vanquished got up, he generally shook hands with his victor and then went for a drink and that was the end of it and some of the firmest of friendships of the olden times were cemented in just such a way. Really, I think I can close this chap- ter by saying that it was not so bad after all.
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