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From the History of Fairfield and Perry County, Ohio:
THE HIPPODROME WAR.---The Hippodrome War, as the disturbance is usually termed, which occurred in Somerset, in September, 1853, was a very serious affair, and for a time threatened far greater dangers. Welch's Hippodrome, a large traveling show, was announced to exhibit in Somerset Wednesday, September 7th, of the year before mentioned, and came on according to announcement.
At this date, and for months previous, work was in progress on the old Scioto and Hocking Valley Railroad. There were at least two hundred laborers engaged upon the “deep cut” at Somerset, and there were many other hands employed upon another section, not far away. Nearly all of these railroad hands were of Irish nationality and quite a number of them had been discharged from other places, and were generally looked upon as dangerous men. The great majority, however, were peaceable and industrious.
The Hippodrome had been extensively advertised and puffed, and brought out large crowds of people, day and evening, the weather being very fine. It had been arranged by Fink and Dittoe, the contractors on the cut, that the wives and children of the laborers should attend the show in the day-time, and the men at night. The showmen knew of this state of things, and had their fears for the night entertainment, especially as they had been informed at Thornville, or some other place, that the railroad laborers had planned and determined to take possession of the show at night. The strong probability is, that there was no ground for such a report, and it is not believed that the workmen had any such intention, though they were in and about the show in great force at night. This was only natural, under the circumstances. The report, however, made the showmen very suspicious and excited them very much.
The direct cause of the affray occurred inside the canvas, not far from the entrance, soon after the commencement of the Hippodrome performance. A railroad laborer took out his pipe and began to smoke, which was of course against the rules. Just here there is a discrepancy of statements. It is claimed on one hand, that the pipe was rudely knocked out of the smoker's mouth, who resented, and a fight commenced. It is alleged on the other side that the laborer who was smoking was requested to go out with his pipe, which he declined doing, and then force was used to eject him, which brought on the fight. It is certain that the fight began fifteen or twenty feet inside of the entrance, and that very soon a dozen or more engaged in it. The showmen at first appeared to be getting the worst of the battle; then the performance stopped, when a number of men ran swiftly from the neighborhood of the dressing room and took part in the combat. The men on both sides all appeared to have clubs or other weapons, and the sound of the knocks resounded thick and fast, as clubs struck other clubs or descended upon human heads. There was something of a panic among the throng of people inside the canvass; women screamed, children cried, and a number crawled out or were dragged out under the canvass, at points remote from the place where the fight was going on. Happily, however, the great majority of persons remained quietly in their seats, otherwise a disaster of great magnitude might have ensued. The showmen soon drove their antagonists outside of the tent, but there the contest continued with increased fury and additional numbers. Iron pins, clubs, stones and beer bottles were the principal weapons used. Near the entrance to the tent stood a wagon loaded with cronk beer, in stone bottles, which were unceremoniously captured by the showmen and effectively used during the remainder of the fight, and it is not improbable that the beer vender's ammunition, pressed into the service, decided the result. It was a fearful scene, and attended by a hideous noise of growling, swearing, infuriated men. The melee did not last fifteen minutes, but seemed an hour. The showmen were victorious and soon their opponents withdrew from the grounds, taking their wounded with them. When quiet once more reigned the performance was renewed and the programme fully presented to an audience still large, though very considerably lessened.
A great many persons were bruised, cut and otherwise injured in the fight, but only one fatally. A peaceable laborer by the name of Sullivan, who was in no wise responsible for the melee that resulted in his death, was struck with a beer bottle on the head, which proved to be a mortal wound. Sullivan was a peaceable citizen, respected by his fellow workmen and resident citizens, and his friends state that he was not even at the show grounds, but hurried there as soon as he heard of the trouble, to induce a son to go home, and persuade other friends to do the same. He unfortunately reached the ground in time to be struck by a deadly missile, receiving a mortal hurt. Sullivan was a man of family, and lived in the “Old Exchange,” on Main street. He was carried home and died a little after midnight. His death was a terrible blow to his immediate family, who could not be comforted, and many of the dead man's companions and fellow laborers threatened dire vengeance, and no doubt resolved upon swift, retribution. They accomplished nothing that night, however, for the showmen had undisputed possession of the streets. If a stray Irishman was found, he was set upon and beaten fearfully. One poor fellow ran down Main street, pursued by five or six showmen, and at almost every step would cry out, “Let me die aisy; let me die aisy.” He was overtaken on South Columbus street, and dreadfully beaten, though not killed. As a party of showmen were passing the house of the wounded Sullivan, not long before his death, they were fired upon from the second story windows of the building, at close range. The showmen thereupon attacked the house, but failed to gain an entrance and soon retired.
This was a memorable and fearful night in the history of Somerset. There was no military, the peace officers were powerless, and the possession of the town was vascillating between two infuriated mobs. The night was very dark, and citizens remained quietly at home and within doors. There was not much sleeping done, and many persons stayed up all night, patiently waiting for whatever might come.
Day at length dawned, and all felt relieved, but the end of the war was not yet. At a very early hour warrants had been issued by a Justice of the Peace for the arrest of Welch and his company, but they refused to go with the constables to the court house, while a band of Irish railroaders, now armed with guns, had possession of the streets. These armed men had previously attacked and smashed the hippodrome band wagon, which stood in front of the American House, kept by Samuel Gordon, at which house most of the showmen were stopping. “Disarm those rioters,” said Welch, “or remove them to a distance, and we will go alone before the magistrate.” There were about fifty State rifles in the place, which had been used by a military company then disbanded, and these, by some unknown authority, had been issued to excited railroad laborers, who were to act as special constables or police in assisting to arrest the showmen and taking them before a magistrate. The issuing of the arms to these men, by whatever authority, was very unwise action. Welch and his men would have gone before the magistrate without any force, and that is the way they did go, so many of them as were required. Quite a number of men connected with the hippodrome were permitted to remain, for the time being, in the second story of the hotel. While the preliminaries for the hearing were in progress before the magistrate at the court house, the armed Irishmen had returned to the neighborhood of the hotel. A musician connected with the show stepped out upon the pavement, was fired upon and shot down. Two or three men followed up and beat him with their guns, leaving him for dead. Simultaneously with this proceeding a general attack was made upon the hotel, and hundreds of shot were fired into the hall between the office and parlor. The side lights on either side of the hall door, and the doors, stairs and banisters were riddled with shot. The showmen who were on the second floor, armed themselves with bricks torn from the hearth and chimney, and also broke up bedsteads for the purpose of supplying themselves with weapons, in what they feared would be an unequal and terrible encounter. Two or three of the most turbulent spirits outside broke into the hall door, and a hand to hand fight ensued; but the Irishmen were expelled, and one of them very severely punished. In this engagement the showmen captured one gun. The doors were now closed and barricaded. There was a temporary lull, and then another and more furious attempt was made to storm the hotel, and by larger numbers. This was the most fearful moment of the battle. The shooting was incessant, the noise deafening, and it looked as though the rioters would “storm the fort.” The treasurer of the hippodrome, who appeared at the head of the stairway, was struck in the side by a bullet and severely wounded. Several citizens, among them Mayor Morris and Gen. Lidey, at this time made strenuous efforts to quell the riot and restore order. Lidey commanded the peace in the name of the State of Ohio, and forcibly disarmed one rioter who was about to shoot into the building. Morris, who was expostulating with the men who were trying to batter down the door, was struck with a stray shot on the nose, which drew the blood freely. Enraged at the conduct of the rioters, and smarting with his wound, churchman and Methodist as he was, he roared out to the madmen, that if they did not desist,” He would bring out the cannon and blow them all to hell.” The rioters were finally induced to cease their bombardment of the hotel, but they occupied the streets during the remainder of the day, and refused to disband or give up the guns with which they had been armed. It was thought at the time that the musician was mortally wounded, but after lying several weeks at the hotel, in front of which he was shot and beaten, he was sent to his home in Pennsylvania, and eventually recovered.
As a consequence of the preliminary hearing at the court house, nine of the showmen were committed to jail to await a further trial. They were finally released in some way, and they never had a trial in the Court of Common Pleas. On Thursday morning, J. J. Johnson, Esq., who was then sheriff of the county, after trying in vain to restore order, communicated with the rightful authorities for military aid to quell the riot, whereupon the Zanesville City Guards, under command of Captain Graham and Lieut. Hazlett, by order of the Governor of the State, responded to the call, and arrived at Somerset, seventy-five or eighty in number, at six P. M. of the same day. When the strains of martial music were heard ascending the hill at the east end of town, the rioters quickly disappeared, and in five minutes the town was as quiet and orderly as on Sunday. The showmen soon after quietly and peaceably left the place. The civil authorities decided to disarm the men who had been engaged in the riotous proceedings of the day, and the military was made use of for this purpose. The fire-arms were nearly all found, not in the hands of those who had used them, but secreted in beds, garrets, cellars and all kinds of out of the way places. There was not the slightest attempt at resistance to the military, but there was a general denial of arms being about premises, and apparently no knowledge of any riot. But they were well known and could not escape in this manner. In the course of a few hours over one hundred men were arrested, taken to the Court House and placed under a guard to await a hearing. The investigation finally came off in the Court House before George Morris, Justice of the Peace. T. J. Gallagher, who was then Prosecuting Attorney”, assisted by James Sheward, appeared for the State, and Hon. Wm. E. Fink and T. J. Maginnis for the defendants. All were acquitted except two, and they were recognized to the Court of Common Pleas. None of the cases connected with the “Hippodrome War” ever came to a final trial. The Zanesville Guards remained in town until Saturday morning, when peace having been fully restored, they returned home. They were very welcome and highly honored guests during their stay and received an ovation at the Court House just before they departed.
Many occurrences of a most ludicrous character took place during the Hippodrome War. Straggling showmen who ventured on the streets Thursday morning, were quickly and mercilessly pursued, and sought refuge in all kinds of hiding places. Five or six showmen retreated to the garret of the Carroll House, where they remained nearly twenty-four hours, their food in the meantime being passed up to them through a trap door, in a clandestine manner. The driver of the Hippodrome band wagon, sought refuge in the house of a citizen on Columbus street, and after remaining several hours, borrowed a suit of female apparel, and left as a “forlorn female” on foot. This gentleman who was then quite young, afterward became a show proprietor of considerable prominence, and years afterwards, visited Somerset with his show. His fair benefactress was gone, but he visited the spot and enjoyed a hearty laugh over the manner of his escape from the seat of war. Another showman concealed himself in a cellar, where he remained three or four days until hunger drove him out, when he was both surprised and gratified to find that peace and order reigned supreme. A well known citizen was wending his way home on the first night when he was mistaken by the showmen for an Irishman and only saved himself by taking refuge in a neighbor's house, where he lay concealed until the next day. The transient guests of the different hotels became panic stricken and departed the town in haste. One man is said to have walked twenty miles before he considered it safe to stop for something to eat. The regular boarders, mostly young men, stood their ground pretty well until sent for to go to various parts of the town to remain over night in households where there were no adult male persons. How much valor, or the contrary, these young men would have shown in case of emergency, the world will never know.
It is possible that some of these ludicrous stories may be slightly exaggerated, but it would be a difficult matter to overdraw the actual facts. The foregoing is intended to be a fair and impartial statement of all the principal difficulties and occurrences connected with the so called “Hippodrome War.” The account is collected from various published resources, made at the time and since, and by personal interviews with eye witnesses of the proceedings of that eventful time.
THE HIPPODROME WAR.---The Hippodrome War, as the disturbance is usually termed, which occurred in Somerset, in September, 1853, was a very serious affair, and for a time threatened far greater dangers. Welch's Hippodrome, a large traveling show, was announced to exhibit in Somerset Wednesday, September 7th, of the year before mentioned, and came on according to announcement.
At this date, and for months previous, work was in progress on the old Scioto and Hocking Valley Railroad. There were at least two hundred laborers engaged upon the “deep cut” at Somerset, and there were many other hands employed upon another section, not far away. Nearly all of these railroad hands were of Irish nationality and quite a number of them had been discharged from other places, and were generally looked upon as dangerous men. The great majority, however, were peaceable and industrious.
The Hippodrome had been extensively advertised and puffed, and brought out large crowds of people, day and evening, the weather being very fine. It had been arranged by Fink and Dittoe, the contractors on the cut, that the wives and children of the laborers should attend the show in the day-time, and the men at night. The showmen knew of this state of things, and had their fears for the night entertainment, especially as they had been informed at Thornville, or some other place, that the railroad laborers had planned and determined to take possession of the show at night. The strong probability is, that there was no ground for such a report, and it is not believed that the workmen had any such intention, though they were in and about the show in great force at night. This was only natural, under the circumstances. The report, however, made the showmen very suspicious and excited them very much.
The direct cause of the affray occurred inside the canvas, not far from the entrance, soon after the commencement of the Hippodrome performance. A railroad laborer took out his pipe and began to smoke, which was of course against the rules. Just here there is a discrepancy of statements. It is claimed on one hand, that the pipe was rudely knocked out of the smoker's mouth, who resented, and a fight commenced. It is alleged on the other side that the laborer who was smoking was requested to go out with his pipe, which he declined doing, and then force was used to eject him, which brought on the fight. It is certain that the fight began fifteen or twenty feet inside of the entrance, and that very soon a dozen or more engaged in it. The showmen at first appeared to be getting the worst of the battle; then the performance stopped, when a number of men ran swiftly from the neighborhood of the dressing room and took part in the combat. The men on both sides all appeared to have clubs or other weapons, and the sound of the knocks resounded thick and fast, as clubs struck other clubs or descended upon human heads. There was something of a panic among the throng of people inside the canvass; women screamed, children cried, and a number crawled out or were dragged out under the canvass, at points remote from the place where the fight was going on. Happily, however, the great majority of persons remained quietly in their seats, otherwise a disaster of great magnitude might have ensued. The showmen soon drove their antagonists outside of the tent, but there the contest continued with increased fury and additional numbers. Iron pins, clubs, stones and beer bottles were the principal weapons used. Near the entrance to the tent stood a wagon loaded with cronk beer, in stone bottles, which were unceremoniously captured by the showmen and effectively used during the remainder of the fight, and it is not improbable that the beer vender's ammunition, pressed into the service, decided the result. It was a fearful scene, and attended by a hideous noise of growling, swearing, infuriated men. The melee did not last fifteen minutes, but seemed an hour. The showmen were victorious and soon their opponents withdrew from the grounds, taking their wounded with them. When quiet once more reigned the performance was renewed and the programme fully presented to an audience still large, though very considerably lessened.
A great many persons were bruised, cut and otherwise injured in the fight, but only one fatally. A peaceable laborer by the name of Sullivan, who was in no wise responsible for the melee that resulted in his death, was struck with a beer bottle on the head, which proved to be a mortal wound. Sullivan was a peaceable citizen, respected by his fellow workmen and resident citizens, and his friends state that he was not even at the show grounds, but hurried there as soon as he heard of the trouble, to induce a son to go home, and persuade other friends to do the same. He unfortunately reached the ground in time to be struck by a deadly missile, receiving a mortal hurt. Sullivan was a man of family, and lived in the “Old Exchange,” on Main street. He was carried home and died a little after midnight. His death was a terrible blow to his immediate family, who could not be comforted, and many of the dead man's companions and fellow laborers threatened dire vengeance, and no doubt resolved upon swift, retribution. They accomplished nothing that night, however, for the showmen had undisputed possession of the streets. If a stray Irishman was found, he was set upon and beaten fearfully. One poor fellow ran down Main street, pursued by five or six showmen, and at almost every step would cry out, “Let me die aisy; let me die aisy.” He was overtaken on South Columbus street, and dreadfully beaten, though not killed. As a party of showmen were passing the house of the wounded Sullivan, not long before his death, they were fired upon from the second story windows of the building, at close range. The showmen thereupon attacked the house, but failed to gain an entrance and soon retired.
This was a memorable and fearful night in the history of Somerset. There was no military, the peace officers were powerless, and the possession of the town was vascillating between two infuriated mobs. The night was very dark, and citizens remained quietly at home and within doors. There was not much sleeping done, and many persons stayed up all night, patiently waiting for whatever might come.
Day at length dawned, and all felt relieved, but the end of the war was not yet. At a very early hour warrants had been issued by a Justice of the Peace for the arrest of Welch and his company, but they refused to go with the constables to the court house, while a band of Irish railroaders, now armed with guns, had possession of the streets. These armed men had previously attacked and smashed the hippodrome band wagon, which stood in front of the American House, kept by Samuel Gordon, at which house most of the showmen were stopping. “Disarm those rioters,” said Welch, “or remove them to a distance, and we will go alone before the magistrate.” There were about fifty State rifles in the place, which had been used by a military company then disbanded, and these, by some unknown authority, had been issued to excited railroad laborers, who were to act as special constables or police in assisting to arrest the showmen and taking them before a magistrate. The issuing of the arms to these men, by whatever authority, was very unwise action. Welch and his men would have gone before the magistrate without any force, and that is the way they did go, so many of them as were required. Quite a number of men connected with the hippodrome were permitted to remain, for the time being, in the second story of the hotel. While the preliminaries for the hearing were in progress before the magistrate at the court house, the armed Irishmen had returned to the neighborhood of the hotel. A musician connected with the show stepped out upon the pavement, was fired upon and shot down. Two or three men followed up and beat him with their guns, leaving him for dead. Simultaneously with this proceeding a general attack was made upon the hotel, and hundreds of shot were fired into the hall between the office and parlor. The side lights on either side of the hall door, and the doors, stairs and banisters were riddled with shot. The showmen who were on the second floor, armed themselves with bricks torn from the hearth and chimney, and also broke up bedsteads for the purpose of supplying themselves with weapons, in what they feared would be an unequal and terrible encounter. Two or three of the most turbulent spirits outside broke into the hall door, and a hand to hand fight ensued; but the Irishmen were expelled, and one of them very severely punished. In this engagement the showmen captured one gun. The doors were now closed and barricaded. There was a temporary lull, and then another and more furious attempt was made to storm the hotel, and by larger numbers. This was the most fearful moment of the battle. The shooting was incessant, the noise deafening, and it looked as though the rioters would “storm the fort.” The treasurer of the hippodrome, who appeared at the head of the stairway, was struck in the side by a bullet and severely wounded. Several citizens, among them Mayor Morris and Gen. Lidey, at this time made strenuous efforts to quell the riot and restore order. Lidey commanded the peace in the name of the State of Ohio, and forcibly disarmed one rioter who was about to shoot into the building. Morris, who was expostulating with the men who were trying to batter down the door, was struck with a stray shot on the nose, which drew the blood freely. Enraged at the conduct of the rioters, and smarting with his wound, churchman and Methodist as he was, he roared out to the madmen, that if they did not desist,” He would bring out the cannon and blow them all to hell.” The rioters were finally induced to cease their bombardment of the hotel, but they occupied the streets during the remainder of the day, and refused to disband or give up the guns with which they had been armed. It was thought at the time that the musician was mortally wounded, but after lying several weeks at the hotel, in front of which he was shot and beaten, he was sent to his home in Pennsylvania, and eventually recovered.
As a consequence of the preliminary hearing at the court house, nine of the showmen were committed to jail to await a further trial. They were finally released in some way, and they never had a trial in the Court of Common Pleas. On Thursday morning, J. J. Johnson, Esq., who was then sheriff of the county, after trying in vain to restore order, communicated with the rightful authorities for military aid to quell the riot, whereupon the Zanesville City Guards, under command of Captain Graham and Lieut. Hazlett, by order of the Governor of the State, responded to the call, and arrived at Somerset, seventy-five or eighty in number, at six P. M. of the same day. When the strains of martial music were heard ascending the hill at the east end of town, the rioters quickly disappeared, and in five minutes the town was as quiet and orderly as on Sunday. The showmen soon after quietly and peaceably left the place. The civil authorities decided to disarm the men who had been engaged in the riotous proceedings of the day, and the military was made use of for this purpose. The fire-arms were nearly all found, not in the hands of those who had used them, but secreted in beds, garrets, cellars and all kinds of out of the way places. There was not the slightest attempt at resistance to the military, but there was a general denial of arms being about premises, and apparently no knowledge of any riot. But they were well known and could not escape in this manner. In the course of a few hours over one hundred men were arrested, taken to the Court House and placed under a guard to await a hearing. The investigation finally came off in the Court House before George Morris, Justice of the Peace. T. J. Gallagher, who was then Prosecuting Attorney”, assisted by James Sheward, appeared for the State, and Hon. Wm. E. Fink and T. J. Maginnis for the defendants. All were acquitted except two, and they were recognized to the Court of Common Pleas. None of the cases connected with the “Hippodrome War” ever came to a final trial. The Zanesville Guards remained in town until Saturday morning, when peace having been fully restored, they returned home. They were very welcome and highly honored guests during their stay and received an ovation at the Court House just before they departed.
Many occurrences of a most ludicrous character took place during the Hippodrome War. Straggling showmen who ventured on the streets Thursday morning, were quickly and mercilessly pursued, and sought refuge in all kinds of hiding places. Five or six showmen retreated to the garret of the Carroll House, where they remained nearly twenty-four hours, their food in the meantime being passed up to them through a trap door, in a clandestine manner. The driver of the Hippodrome band wagon, sought refuge in the house of a citizen on Columbus street, and after remaining several hours, borrowed a suit of female apparel, and left as a “forlorn female” on foot. This gentleman who was then quite young, afterward became a show proprietor of considerable prominence, and years afterwards, visited Somerset with his show. His fair benefactress was gone, but he visited the spot and enjoyed a hearty laugh over the manner of his escape from the seat of war. Another showman concealed himself in a cellar, where he remained three or four days until hunger drove him out, when he was both surprised and gratified to find that peace and order reigned supreme. A well known citizen was wending his way home on the first night when he was mistaken by the showmen for an Irishman and only saved himself by taking refuge in a neighbor's house, where he lay concealed until the next day. The transient guests of the different hotels became panic stricken and departed the town in haste. One man is said to have walked twenty miles before he considered it safe to stop for something to eat. The regular boarders, mostly young men, stood their ground pretty well until sent for to go to various parts of the town to remain over night in households where there were no adult male persons. How much valor, or the contrary, these young men would have shown in case of emergency, the world will never know.
It is possible that some of these ludicrous stories may be slightly exaggerated, but it would be a difficult matter to overdraw the actual facts. The foregoing is intended to be a fair and impartial statement of all the principal difficulties and occurrences connected with the so called “Hippodrome War.” The account is collected from various published resources, made at the time and since, and by personal interviews with eye witnesses of the proceedings of that eventful time.