A Terrible Fight

[The followiug article taken froin the Detroit Journal, is wel! written, very tlirilling, but lacks one great essential, tliat of trnth. Forepaugh did not show here in 1866; and if he liad done so, the studenta are not hefe in the summer time. Then again there never' was a student, citizen, circus man or anyone else ever killed here at a circus. About 20 ago Forepaugh carne here while the students were here, and wlien they commenced their cheering - with tin horns- he stepped out into the ring with perhaps a dozen men, armed witli clubs, and told the boys that uuless they respected the audience, the show and theniselves by keeping still he had appointed some special policeinen who would endeavor toquiet them. The result was that they remained quiet the rest of the evening.] - Ed. Courier. In a chop house in the theatrical Rialto district a few evenings ago several veterans of the iootlights and two men who once followed the circus were talking about the way audiences soinetimes cut up when they dou't like a play or au act of a show. In the party was Hugh Coy le, the well-known New Yorker and cosmopolite, says the New Sunday News. "We don'tbave many old-time scrimmages between audience and show peoplo nowadays," he said, "but 1 was in the show business wheu a man took his life in lus hand, even here in New York or Brooklyn, if he was attached to a circus, and it happened to get hito trouble. Of course, the pólice here were a great restraint, but now and then there was quite a serious break. In the old days the yell of 'Hey, Rube!' was a familiar and almost nihtly sound in any town where the circus chanced to be. ïhat, you know, is the slogan of the circus man. Whenever it rings out in the tent or the street every follower of the ring knows that there is trouble arioat, and he responda with the loyalty of a Scotch Highlander to the cali of his chief . In the west and southwest fights veré of almost every-day oecurrence, md at every stand the facilities for deense and offense were carefully looked ifter, and weapons were placed handy. "The favorite weapon," lie continued, 'was the toe-pin, an irou bolt used in ;he wagons at the tongue and in pinling down the tent ropes. Shows in ;hose days didn't travel by special ;rain, as they do now, but most of the ourueys froin place to place were made by wagon. Before the show opened the men would place toe-pius at convenient points about the tent, under the wagons or seats, or wherever they could be reached and picked up in a hurry. Nfiw, a toe-pin is something worse than a policenian's billy, and cracked skulls, broken arms and legs usually followed a scrimmage betweeu the circus people and tbs public. "The worst of these figlits I recall, and probably the bloodiest of the sort that ever took place occurred at Arm Arbor, Mich.,in 1806, and New Yorkera did most of the üghtiug. ïhe show had been there the year before and the students at the university alniost wiped it out. Very nearly all tlie hands were liurt, more or less. Of course, our men wanted revenge, so when it was learned that the show would appear ia Ann Arbor again, they sent on to íÑew York and Philadelphia for help. Car and truck drivers who worked here in the winter time followed the show in the suramer, and they were about as tough a crowd as j'ou would want to run up against. And they stuck together, too. (Contiaued on 8th Page.) II TERRIBLE FIGHT, (Coutinued from lst page.) Disloyalty and cowardice were unpardonable offeoses, and the exliibitiou of the sliglitest disinclination on tlie part of any follower of the show to take part in a figlit iuvariably resulted in his benig driven out of the business. A man bad to he willim? to take hard knocks and to give them. lie got used to them írmn the various foremen, for a circus hand had to stand as mucb cursing and blows as a roustabout on a Mississippi river steamboat. But that was all riglit - it was in the clan or family, as it were. Xo matter hovv revengeful a wagon man or a teamster might feel against one of the bosses, lie was as true as steel to the show when a íight was on with the public. "Well, vvhen we got to Ann Arbor that memorable summer iu 1866, every man in the show, from hostler to head clown and star bareback rider, was primed and anxious for the battle Ihat all feit sure was about to take placo. Proud of their victory the year before, the students of the university were all itching for the fray. Of course, they were animated almost solely by a spirit of deviltry, and the arrival of the circus was for tlicni an occasion for a lark and a blow-off of their surplus steam. Ann Arbor was a good deal smaller then than it is now, but all the country thereabout sent its farmers and others of the population into the town to see the circus. So that night the big tent and side shows were packed. About 20 of the toughest characters I ever saw had joined the show that morning, brought on from the east for the occasion. These fellows were distributed amoug the audience, most of them near the seats reserved for the college boys, who carne in troops and kept together. All of thetn had canes or stout cudgels, but wooden sticks even in the bands of atbletes couldn't withstand the onslaught of the circus toughs vvith their terrible toe-pins and wagon-wheel spokes. "The "un started almost at the beginning of the show. The students guyed everything and threw turnips, cabbages and such things at every performer in the ring. Everything the ringmaster could do was of no avail. The boys were out to break up the show i f they could. We bad about 75 men, who were veterans in the rough-and-tuinble, knock-down-and-drag-out scrimmages of the arena, and there were about 100 students with sticks. Of course, the tuwnspeople were expected to side with the co'leae boys, because the circus men were looked upon as legitímate prey. The flght came all right. I don't remember just how, because I was in front taking tickets. But I understood one of the trick horses got scared at a bombardment of vegetables and broke out of the ring. There was a scrainble on the tiers of seats and a bowl from the collegians. High above all caine the yell of the circus men to arms, 'Hey, Rube!' Froin every side it was repeated and even the anímala seemed to get the infection. The lions roared, the elephauts trumpeted, and the horses neighed. 'Hey, Rube!' in shrieks and hoarse hovvls rang out again and agaiu, in answer to the college yells. "ïhe stratagem of putting our men among the audience was soon apparent. The students found themselves attacked on the sides and rear, and their vvelllaid plan of battle was broken at the very onset. I oever saw such a fight in my life, and don't want to see another like it. The big tent was a jumble of sprawling, rushing, shouting men and shreiking women. Friends and foes were inextricably mixed, but tlie show people, with tlieir yelpsof 'Hey, Rube!' liad the advantage of the confusión, while the students and townspeople pummeled eacli otlier. Our men hurt no one but the enemy, and everybody in sight was an enemy that night, uuless he had the sense to yell 'Hey, Rube !' "The ropes along the entrance were broken down in the mad rush of the crowd to get out beyond the lines of the bloody battle, and part of the canvas was torn away. When a man or woïnan feil, no one stopped to help. It was each for himself in that wild flight to safety. " The college boys fought well but they were outclassed. The circus men were ravenous for revenge, and many of tliem got even for broken heads and noses received on that very spot the season previous. For nearly an hour the combat raged. Tlie handful of pólice and deputy slieriffs couldn't do a thing in tlie way of stopping the fight, and it died out solely for want of more material. "When it was over, the ring was full of prostrate forme. Some of them were of young girla and women, with torn dresses and disheveled hair, lying in the dirt and sawdust unconscious. Their finery was in rags. The farmers' daughters had come to town arraj'ed in their best hat, but they went home in tatters. Ilandsome young college fellows were scattered about witli bleeding heads and faces, broken arms and legs, groaning in pain. But that was not the worst of it. Some of them were dead. I don't remember how many, Ijut nearly a dozen lives were sacriflced to the p'rankish proclivities of the students and the love of 'scraps' of the circus hands. Many were not killed outright, but they died of their injuries subsequently. Besides, over sixty others were more;orless hurt in tlie frav. "There were arrests and an investigation as a matter of course, but I don't think that any one was ever punished. It was impossible to fix any particular Ijlaine. Old man Forepaugh was hauled up before the authorities, but he was equal to the occasion. He insisted that bis men were not to blame. 'It was your own people who did it,' he said. 'Thefight started on thebenches amoag the audience, and there it was fought. My people were attending to thcir business and did all they could to stop it.' "It was impossible to disprove tliat. No one onteide of the circus people knew about the men brought on from New York and Philadelphia for tbo fight, and who were scattered among the audience. It goes without saying tliat the showmen never gave the trick away."