Читать книгу The Life and Adventures of Ben Hogan, the Wickedest Man in the World - Ben Hogan - Страница 5

Table of Contents

Early Life—Arrival in America—How he Avenged the Robbery of his Father—Mysterious Disappearance of the Old Jew—In the House of Refuge—Seafaring Life—Beginning of his Boxing Career.

Benedict Hagan, whose name has become familiar in the altered form of Hogan, is a native of Würtemberg, Germany. With his parents, he immigrated to this country at the age of eleven years.

His father was a cabinet-maker by trade, who had saved up something like a thousand dollars, with which he set forth to better his condition in the New World. Along with his family, he arrived in New York in the summer of 1852. His reception was not of the most encouraging nature, and an incident which occurred almost immediately after the landing of the family will serve to show the character of Hogan at that time.

As was customary with all emigrants who had any money to carry, the elder Hogan had secured his fortune, amounting to eight hundred dollars in gold, in a belt fastened about his shoulders. When he walked out of Castle Garden he was forthwith set upon by a Hebrew of the South street order, whose nose resembled his nature, because it was sharp. This enterprising Jew, who spoke German fluently, induced the emigrant to go into a small shop where everything was given away—for four times its value. The unsuspecting Hogan made a small purchase, and when he came to pay for it, disclosed the bag containing his gold. The sight was enough to rouse the Hebrew. Precisely how it happened he did not know; but in an amazingly short time Hogan senior found himself relieved of his eight hundred dollars.

Had it not been for the presence of young Ben, it may be safely assumed that the emigrant would never have gone forth from the Jew’s place alive. The boy, however, presented an obstacle to the commission of murder, which was undoubtedly intended by the robbers. They determined, therefore, to get rid of their victims by strategy instead of force. One of their “cappers” offered to lead the way to the police station where they might get assistance in recovering the money. He did lead the way, but it is unnecessary to add that there were not a great many police stations in the neighborhood to which he conducted them. The Hebrew perhaps thought that he had made one of the fattest “hauls” in his life; but it turned out to be a very dear job.

Young Ben, although a mere child, marked the man who had robbed his father, and resolved to be avenged. Three or four years afterward, he returned to New York, and after days of diligent search he discovered the Hebrew.

“That is the man!” he muttered to himself.

With two or three trusty companions, he resolved upon a plan of action which he proceeded to carry out.

The next day Ben called upon the Jew in his shop. He represented himself to be an employee of the Emigrant Department. He said that a great many chances came to him of making money, but he wanted a confederate. Would the Jew like to have him (Hogan) bring emigrants to the shop with plenty of money in their pockets? It wouldn’t be of much consequence how they got out of the shop!

“Dat vas a fine idea—a very fine idea!” answered the old vulture, rubbing his bony hands together. “You brings ’em in, and I’ll take care of how they goes out. And together ve’ll take care of all their gold!”

That night Ben called again at the shop and told the Jew that a very green young emigrant was waiting to take a walk along the docks.

“He’s got piles of money on him!” added Hogan.

The old Jew accordingly set forth with the green young emigrant. As a matter of fact, this verdant youth was one of Hogan’s companions; and the “piles of money” which Ben had described consisted of lumps of lead put into a bag, after the emigrant fashion.

Fate is a curious thing in this world. That old Hebrew, for instance, started forth from his shop on the night in question, intent upon robbing the green young emigrant and throwing his body into the river. But he didn’t carry out his plans. Perhaps he retired from his South street den. Perhaps he concluded to take a tour to Jerusalem; or perhaps he went to Canada; or perhaps his foot tripped, and he fell into the East river. Whatever his fate, he didn’t rob any more emigrants of their hard-earned savings.

Relieved of his gold, the senior Hogan, with his family, removed to Syracuse, N. Y., which city he made his permanent home. The family was not by any means rich in this world’s goods, and it became necessary for Ben to do something toward his own support. His first venture at money-making was in the line of a peddler. His father bought him an outfit—the horse could not trot under thirty, but he did very well to draw a peddler’s cart—costing, in all, twenty-five dollars. The young peddler’s first day was not altogether successful. He made a number of sales and exchanges, but when he came to balance his accounts he found that he was four dollars out of pocket. The next day, however, he did better, and at the end of six months he had cleared seventy-five dollars.

It may be well to remark here, that, from his earliest boyhood, Ben Hogan has possessed the faculty of making money. He never saved any, because he is too open handed to take any thought of the morrow. But, if he has not saved, he has rarely wanted. His ingenuity and quick wit have invariably “made a raise,” and prevented him from remaining “broke” any length of time.

Among the experiences of this epoch in his career was one which resulted somewhat seriously for our hero. It was found out by a companion that there was a big house near the city occupied by a minister, who had a large collection of books; in these books were many fine engravings, and it occurred to this youngster that if he could get hold of these pictures he might make his fortune by exhibiting them. It was plain that the books would not come to him, and he accordingly concluded to go to the books. For obvious reasons he did not ring the front-door bell, nor leave his card behind him. He found it more convenient to go through the window. In a wagon which he had brought with him for the purpose, he carted off a large number of valuable volumes, tore out the pictures, and threw the books away, telling Ben he had bought the pictures.

Ben Hogan’s career as a showman may be said to have begun when he first exhibited these engravings which had embellished the library of the clergyman. They were steel engravings, which perhaps was why they were stolen. The adventure proved a success while it lasted, but it didn’t last very long. At one and two cents admission the gallery was crowded; but at the very opening of a prosperous season the youthful manager was arrested. This naturally interfered with the show. Although the boy had not really committed anything like a crime here, he was sent to the penitentiary, where he remained thirty days.

Upon his release he went to work in his father’s cabinet shop, but was not wholly contented there. The roving spirit within him began thus early to develop itself. Among Ben’s acquaintances at this time were a couple of choice young spirits known in Syracuse as Joe Heizler and “Red Jacket.” Probably the owner of this latter distinctive appellation had been christened by some other name, but he was known always and only as Red Jacket. The three boys determined upon setting forth from home and finding out what the world was beyond the salt limits of Onondaga county. Accordingly they got together their limited capital, and without troubling themselves to check their trunks, started for Oswego.

They reached that flour-y and flourishing town with fifty cents in their pockets, failed to get a very cordial reception from Landlord Hartmann, and proceeded to look about for work. Ben was the only one of the trio who had pluck and energy enough to succeed. He found employment on board of a schooner lying in port, and by working like a beaver, earned enough to support his companions. Finding that board bills would be inconvenient to settle, it occurred to Ben that housekeeping would be more economical. Neither a house nor furniture bothered him so much as a stove with which to prepare the meals. He finally mustered up courage to go into a hardware store and tell the proprietor that he would rather have a stove than any amount of stock in an insurance company.

“What do you want a stove for?” asked the astonished merchant.

“To keep house with!” was the prompt reply. “If you will trust me for that stove, I’ll pay you as sure as I live!”

The earnest manner of the boy had its effect upon the merchant, who not only let Ben have the stove, but provided him with a small house on the outskirts of the town, where the three companions took up their residence. Ben not only earned all the money, but he was housekeeper and cook as well. How long they might thus have lived must remain a conundrum, for the household was abruptly broken up one day by the appearance of a policeman, who took the runaways back to Syracuse.

Ben was again put to work in his father’s shop, but the restraint of the place led to frequent eruptions, and finally, with a view to breaking his refractory spirit, he was sent to the House of Refuge in Rochester. He remained there three months.

The reader will pardon a brief interruption in the narrative while the writer gives expression to some opinions concerning Houses of Refuge and other similar institutions. Mr. Hogan believes—and his belief, I think, will be shared by all who give the subject careful attention—that, as at present conducted, these places are more productive of evil than of good. Boys are thrust into a House of Refuge where they find many associates more hardened than themselves, and where they learn a good deal of wickedness which they did not know before. The more advanced in crime become the teachers of those who are just entering the broad path. Impure habits are terribly common among the boys confined in these Houses of Refuge. Even worse is the condition of many of the asylums and reformatories for women. If a woman has once fallen, she will not be apt to be reclaimed by entering one of these places. Better far if the mother or father of a girl who has gone astray should say to her, “You have done wrong, but I will not cast you off; try to redeem the past by making your life pure hereafter.” Such words as those would do more to restore Magdalene to true womanhood than all the philanthropic institutions which were ever erected. Ben Hogan bears testimony to the fact that he learned nothing good during his three months’ sojourn in the Rochester institution; and unless he had been a pretty clear-headed boy he would have come out a good deal worse than he did.

Upon returning home, Ben tried his hand at cabinet-making again; but he was no more contented than before. Opposite his father’s shop was a building with a chain running over a pulley, and this chain was a constant temptation to our hero. Whenever he could get the opportunity, he would slip out and climb up the chain to the top of the building, letting himself down head foremost with his feet. This performance excited considerable admiration from those who witnessed it, and the young athlete was called upon to repeat it frequently.

One day a dispute arose between Ben and the foreman of the shop, in which the latter undertook to tell the boy what he should, and what he should not do. Thinking that one “boss” was enough, and that his father rightfully held that position, the young cabinet-maker gave an exhibition of his skill in the manly art by planting a backhander square on the foreman’s nose. When he picked himself up, he was more of a hind man than a foreman. And he didn’t have any more to say to Ben.

Shortly after this episode, the desire to see the world again took possession of our hero, and with very little preparation he left Syracuse. He took with him Red Jacket, Joe Heizler, Nick Shearer, and as big a stock of crackers and cheese as could be purchased for a dollar and a half. It may be remarked incidentally that the crackers and cheese stood by Ben better than any of his companions. They traveled by the Erie canal as far as Schenectady, and there got a job at cutting broom-corn. Red Jacket and the others soon became homesick, and at the end of a couple of weeks disappeared; but Ben kept pluckily to his work, and at the end of five weeks he set out for Albany with a new suit of clothes and fifteen dollars in his pocket. I say “pocket,” although he really carried his money in his stocking. The conductor on the train was induced to let the boy ride free, Ben telling him that he hadn’t a cent of money, and that he would pay him some other time.

THE WAMBOLD.

Once in Albany, our hero lost no time in securing work, which he found on the tow-boat “Belle.” His idea was to get to New York, and then to strike out at whatever presented itself. The captain of the “Belle” evinced a good deal of interest in the boy, and proposed to take him to his home in the country when the boating season should end. Ben listened demurely to this proposition, and said he “would see.” After making a couple of trips or so, the captain wasn’t able to see his protege as much as formerly. In fact, Ben had no relish for the idea of a home in the country and so remained in New York.

It was at this period that he shipped as cabin-boy on the “Humboldt,” where he continued for two years. His readiness to do whatever was demanded of him, added to his indomitable pluck, enabled him to make a considerable sum in the way of extra wages; so that at the end of the two years he had saved up two hundred and seventy-five dollars in gold. This entire amount he sent to his father in Syracuse. The fact that he did not even let his parents know from whom the money came, furnishes an excellent illustration of his character. Throughout his life Ben Hogan has done a good many generous acts, but he has not troubled himself about advertising them to the world.

It was during the time that his ship was lying in port that Ben happened to be passing through Crosby street one night, when he saw, in blazing letters, the word “Gymnasium.” That was a staggerer for the young tar. He had heard of a good many curious things in this world, but he had never before heard of a gymnasium. Crossing the street, he stood looking eagerly at the entrance of the building, when the door opened, and he caught sight of ropes and chains and flying-rings. That proved too much for him to withstand, and so he made his way into the place. The apparatus filled him with wonder, but he took to it as naturally as a duck takes to water, or a Fourth Ward politician takes to whisky. Seeing others lifting the dumb-bells and swinging the clubs, he forthwith began to do the same himself. His fun was suddenly interrupted by the proprietor of the place, who came up and demanded what he was doing.

“Don’t you see?” answered Ben, raising first one hand and then the other.

“But you don’t belong here,” continued the proprietor.

“Oh, that don’t make any difference,” answered the young salt, vigorously working with the bells; “I’ll do this for nothing—you needn’t mind about paying me!”

The gymnasium proprietor stared in amazement, but Ben was too much in earnest to admit of the suspicion that he was “guying.” Finally he explained to the boy that a course of lessons would cost twenty-five dollars. Ben offered twenty-five cents for a part of a course, but the offer was not accepted. Then the teacher induced him to put on the gloves, and pitted him against a boy of about his own size. The other boy understood boxing and Ben didn’t. The result was that our hero, although he showed plenty of pluck and was game all through, came out second best. He resolved, then and there, that he would get somebody to show him how to use his hands, and take satisfaction out of that “other boy.”

This resolve he carried out. Upon the recommendation of the gymnasium keeper, he called upon Wood, and showed such aptness in the manly art, that in two weeks’ time he went back and polished off his former antagonist in the most approved style.

The fascination of the gloves proved so strong that Ben made up his mind to leave the “Humboldt,” which he accordingly did. Devoting pretty much all his time to the practice of boxing, he soon became wonderfully expert for one of his age, and was known in sporting circles as “The Sailor Boy.” Under the patronage of Billy Clark, he attended a sparring exhibition one night, and was matched against a boy considerably bigger than himself, but whom he disposed of in short order. Then the crowd found a second youth, who also put on the mittens, but finding that “The Sailor Boy” was too much for him, resorted to his feet, and dealt Ben a kick.

This was a style of boxing which our young hero had not been taught; nevertheless, he was prepared to pay back in the same coin. He had on, at that time, a pair of heavy brogans, such as are often seen upon German emigrants. Dropping at once to the little game of his antagonist, Ben raised his foot and gave him a kick which doubled him up in a sort of pretzel-shaped bow-knot. He rolled about on the stage like a kangaroo suffering from the colic, while his backers shouted and swore, and the crowd yelled itself hoarse. In the midst of this general hubbub, “The Sailor Boy” quietly slipped out of the hall.

Thus ended Ben Hogan’s first public sparring match. It came precious near ending the fellow who fought against him, and it is safe to assume that he never kicked a man after that without first looking to see whether he wore brogans.

THE PIRATE “SPHINX” CAPTURING A RICH TREASURE.