Homer Lane
#PWHS #Bio #Biography #Wrestling #ProWrestling #HomerLane #CollarXElbow #CollarAndElbow #NewYork #NewYorkCity #NYC
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Homer Lane was born on July 14, 1828 to Gad Lane and his wife Polly Gould in Lowville, Lewis County, New York. Practically nothing is known about his childhood. If he did serve in the Civil War I have never seen mention of it, but I would have to guess he did. He was jsut under 40 years old by the time that it ended.
Lane wrestled his first bout at the age of seventeen or in 1851, but 1868 is the year when I start to find regular matches for him. And what an impressive first year of opponents it is for him. He's billed for a match with one of the biggest stars of the 1860's, Lieutenant Louis Ainsworth, but Ainsworth no-shows on the June 2 date. Lane instead wrestles the legend that was Harry Hill and scored the pin-fall victory. He followed that up with a loss in August to Lew Thompson, another fairly big name for the time in the wrestling world.
September 1, 1868 was the defining moment of the year for him though when he won the American Collar & Elbow Championship in Oneida, New York from Colonel James Hiram McLaughlin. As far as is known that's the first title Homer Lane ever held in his career. For fans that are not familiar with these earliest days of American professional wrestling, Collar & Elbow was the main style through-out the 1860's and the first half of the 1870's and various times it was argued no-one was better at the style than Homer Lane.
For the next 18 months Lane took on all comers and continued to tour the Northeast of America. His reign appears to come to an end on March 10, 1870. As far as has been recorded there was an international tournament held in Detroit, Michigan where upon Lane competed and was defending his title through-out. Who knocked him out of the tournament is unknown, but eventually it would be run by the Colonel.
He would not see a medal again for over two years. Immediately after losing he went on a theater tour with the Colonel where both men took on all comers and he challenged the Colonel again at least once during that time. When McLaughlin retired from the mat, Lane either won a match for the title or just started claiming it, which is not known, but it occurred either in the spring or summer of 1872.
He'd swap the belt with Perry Higley in the fall of that year, losing it on September 18 and regaining it on October 28. Over the course of the next year he defended the title against well known opponents such as William Ainsworth, brother of Louis, and Lang Dolan a big star from the West Coast.
The following is a story a from the April 15, 1873 edition of the New York Sun:
"The LATEST HORSE STORY
A CAYUGA LAKE FARMER WHO HAD A MORTGAGE TO LIFT.
A Dignified New Jersey Justice Looking for a Favorite Henry Chay Mare - The Bargain Which a New York Publican Made - Union Square Mistake for Central Park.
... A stranger entered Mr. Henry [Harry] Hill's little theatre. The stranger was of medium height, well built, and about 35 years old. He was dressed in a rough brown suit of country-made clothes, wore a black neck tie with red spots, a stand-up collar, and a plug hate. His trousers were too tight, and rumpled up around his long, coarse boots. His face was round, clean shaved, and shiny, and he carried his hands in his trousers pockets. HE took a seat far back against the wall, drew out a briarwood pipe, loaded it, took a match from among a lot of toothpicks and watch keys which he drew from his waistcoat pocket, lighted the match on his pantaloons, and began to blow a cloud. He sat there ten minutes looking around the room and gazing on the pictures that adorned the walls. The singing was not yet begun, so the stranger arose and walked over to the shooting gallery, and got into conversation with the man in charge. Then the stranger shot two or three times. Then he walked toward the bar and sat down at the table at which Mr. Hill usually sits, and called for a drink. Presently Mr. Hill appeared from below, and approached the table. The stranger nodded and made as though he was going to rise, saying, 'Have I got your seat, sir?' Mr. Hill told him to sit still, and took a seat beside him. The stranger and Mr. Hill soon got into conversation. The stranger asked where the best place to take a horse for sale was. Mr. Hill asked the man whether he had any horses for sale. The stranger said that he had for sale one mare,
A FULL-BLOODED HENRY CLAY.
He had brought four horses from home, and had sold three. He was a farmer in Ledyard Township in Cayuga Lake, and wanted to raise enough money to pay off a mortgage. Mr. Hill asked what he wanted for the mare. The stranger said that her real value was about $800, but that as she had gone lame and he was anxious to sell so as to save further expense and get home, he would let Mr. Hill have her for $250. Mr. Hill told the stranger to bring her down, and if she suited him he would make an offer. The stranger said he didn't care about taking the trouble unless he was pretty sure to make a sale, and for his part he would not take one cent less than he had already asked. Mr. Hill said that he thought they could make a bargain, and the man promised to bring the horse down from Twenty-Fourth Street, where it was at livery, next morning at 10 sharp. The stranger was punctual, and Mr. Hill, after examining the mare-which, by the way, had a badly swelled knee-offered her owner $210. The man refused positively. The mare was accordingly taken back to Twenty-Fourth Street.
THE CAYUGA LAKE FARMER AGAIN.
In the evening about 7 o'clock the man sauntered into Mr. Hill's again. Mr. Hill quietly called aside his factotum, Homer Lane, of athletic renown, and said: 'Homer, there's the countryman who has the Henry Clay for sale. I'm certain he's sorry he didn't take my offer, and has come round here to get another chance. You tackle him. Undervalue the mare all you can. Scare the life out of the fellow with stories of horse disease, bone decay, and such like, and hint about the risk of buying horses that may have been stolen, and all that. The fellow's all square enough. I know that. He's a countryman and wants to raise money. I believe the story he tells, but you throw all the suspicion you possibly can upon the horse. You understand.'
'I understand,' said Homer, smiling grimly, and nodding, and forthwith he went over toward the countryman and entered into conversation with him.
Homer called for a small bottle of wine. The countryman asked what sort of liquor that was, and opened his heart. Homer was soon in possession of the fact that his new friend had a mare, a Henry Clay, full-blooded, for sale.
A FEARFUL ACCIDENT IN HARLEM LANE.
'A Henry Clay?' said Homer, in a tone of commiseration. 'I don't think much of Henry Clays. I bought a spanking pair of mares, Henry Clays, about a year ago. I gave $600 for 'em. I tell you they were beauties to look at. Well, I got a new set of harness made o' purpose for 'em, and the day week I bought 'em I put 'em to the wagon and went for a drive on the lane. Just when I got opposite the Cayuga House-'
'I live on Cayuga Lake when I'm to home,' interjected the stranger.
'You do, eh?' said Homer, smiling. 'Well, as I was saying, just as I got opposite the Cayuga House the mares, which had been skittish all the way up, began to rear and plunge, and before you could say Jack Robinson they sent everything flying and went off with the shaft. I got a bad fall and my head was goose eggs all over. But the worst of it was the damage cost me $471. I sold the mares just as soon's I could, and made up my mind never to buy another Henry Clay.'
SPOTTED AS AN ENGLISHMAN.
'Well, but you see,' the countryman said, 'my mare's as quiet's a lamb. And when she ain't lame she can go, you bet. And then, you see, she's full-blooded.'
'Oh, ----.' Homer exclaimed: 'don't talk about full blooded. You're an Englishman. I suppose? Ah, I thought so. Englishmen are dead on full bloods, but we this side go in for a cross. There's nothing like a cross. I don't think I'd care to own a full blood-unless, perhaps, it was a mare, so as I could get a fine cross out of here.'
'Why don't you make me an offer for my mare, then?' the countryman asked, timidly.
'I had not seen her,' was Homer's reply.
'You can ask Mr. Hill about her,' the countryman said: 'he's seen her.'
'That's so,' said Homer. 'Excuse me a minute,' and Homer went after Mr. Hill. For five minutes Mr. Hill and Homer Lane sat at a table out of sight of the countryman, and had much pleasant talk. Mr. Hill's hand was often before his mouth, and at such times his back and shoulders heaved. Finally Mr. Hill put his hand into his trousers pocket and brought up
A HANDFUL OF CRUMPLED GREENBACKS.
He spread them out upon his knee until he reached the sum of $175, which he handed to Homer Lane. Then he thrust the remainder back into his pocket. Homer Lane folded his greenbacks carefully, and placed them inside a medium-sized valise which he carried in his waistcoat pocket. Then Mr. Hill's hand went up to his mouth and his back went up and down, and Homer walked over and seated himself once more beside the countryman.
'Well, now,' Homer began, 'Hill says the horse is derned lame. And then again, you see, there's the horse disease. Why, I'm told the stables up town, especially those in Twenty-Fourth Street, has it bad. And then there's another sickness broken out. They call it spino-something-or-another. It kills a horse in about twenty-four hours. I should like well enough to buy your mare to get a good cross out of her, but it is so plague risky. What do you want for her?'
'Well, seeing it's you,' the countryman said, 'I'll let you have the mare for $200.'
THE COUNTRYMAN ALARMED.
Homer sat thinking for some time. 'I'll tell you what I'll do. You see the longer you keep that mare, the worse your chances get for selling her. She'll grow lamer before she's better. And then there's the chance of getting sick-all the bigger chance when she's got that bad leg. You may keep her there eating her head off for a week or two-'
'Well, say, what'll you give me?' the stranger asked.
'Well, now,' said Homer. 'I'll make a square deal with you. I'll give you $175.'
'Done,' the countryman said after a moment's pause. 'I see the force of what you say, and I was a derned fool not to sell this morning.'
Homer Lane and the countryman departed for the stables in Twenty-Fourth Street. The amount due for the horse's board was paid by the countryman, the transfer was duly made, and the $175 deposited in the countryman's hand. Then Homer Lane quietly took the livery stable keeper aside and told him to keep the mare until Mr. Hill sent for her. Homer Lane and the countryman shook hands and separated.
AN UNPLEASANT VISITOR.
At about noon on Wednesday, a tall, handsomely-dressed gentleman entered Mr. Hill's saloon and asked for the proprietor. He was told that Mr. Hill was at the barber's, and would be round in a few minutes. The gentleman said he would wait. In about ten minutes Mr. Hill entered.
'Mr. Hill, I believe,' the gentleman said, with great dignity.
'Thad's my name, sir.' was Mr. Hill's reply.
'Mr. Hill,' the stately visitor said, 'I'm very sorry to come on such unpleasant business.'
'What-what's the matter?' Mr. Hill exclaimed, the corners of his mouth beginning to droop.
'I believe, sir,' said the imposing stranger, 'that you yesterday purchased a Henry Clay mare, lame on the front off leg?'
'Yes, sir,' Mr. Hill replied, 'and what if I did?'
'Were you not aware, sir,' the gentleman said, elevating his head and assuming an air of severity,' that a valuable mare like that could not be sold for $175 unless the person selling her had come by the property in a dishonest way?'
'When a man wants money,' Mr. Hill said, weakening under the telling point, 'he sometimes makes a sacrifice.'
MR. GODSPILL, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE.
'That horse, or mare, rather, sir, was stolen-stolen from me, sir, about two weeks ago. She was a pet mare, sir, for which I would not have taken any money.'
'Well, sir,' said Mr. Hill, 'I hear what you say; but how do I know that it's the same mare you speak of, or whether you are the owner?'
The gentleman cast a glance of mingled scorn and dignity on Mr. Hill, and drew forth a capacious pocketbook. From the unfolded book he took an enameled card and handed it to Mr. Hill. 'That, sir,' said he, 'is my name.'
Mr. Hill held the card up to the flight and read as follows:
"Mr. GEO. W. GODSPILL
Attorney at Law,
Groveville,
Mercer Co
N.J.
Justice of Peace."
'Well, Mr. Godspill,' Mr. Hill said, after having carefully read the card, ' I don't see how this proves you to be owner of the mare.'
A DISCRIPTION OF THE THIEF.
'Allow me, sir,' said Mr. Godspill, producing a neatly folded paper from his pocketbook, and opening it under Mr. Hill's nose. 'This, sir, you will see is a warrant of apprehension of the thief and on the back is a full description of this person.'
Mr. Hill glanced at the warrant. Then he turned it and read the description carefully. There was no doubt about it. It was a perfect picture of the countryman down to his clumsy boots and rumpled pantaloons.
'Sold again!' Mr. Hill said, with a forced laugh. 'Well, sir, all I can say is, I'm very sorry. I don't care a curse about the money, but I hate to be taken in. I suppose you know where the mare is?'
'I do, sir.' said Mr. Godspill. 'I traced her to the stables in Twenty-Fourth Street this morning.'
'Well, then,' Mr. Hill said, 'You can go and take the animal.'
'Excuse me, sir,' Mr. Godspill replied, 'the man in charge won't give her up unless authorized by you in person.'
'Tommy,' Mr. Hill called out, 'Where's Homer Lane?'
'He is upstairs, sir; I'll run for him.'
Presently Homer Lane, horse dealer and athlete, appeared from above, and Mr. Hill explained the situation. Mr. Lane drew the back of his hand across his mouth and looked at the floor.
'Tommy,' said Mr. Hill, 'get a hack from the Metropolitan, and we'll go up together.'
In due time the hack came round, and the three gentlemen were bowled up Broadway and Fourth Avenue to Twenty-Fourth Street. There was much pleasant talk by the way. Mr. Godspill expressed his regret at having made the acquaintance of Mr. Hill under such unpleasant circumstances. Mr. Hill smiled sweetly, and asked Mr. Godspill whether he had heard of his famous horse, Curiosity?
When they reached Union Square, Mr. Godspill looked out at the window through his eye glasses, and asked whether it was Central Park. When told his mistake, he excused himself by saying that he was a plain stay-at-home man, and had never been but once in New York for the last thirty years.
MR. GODSPILL'S GENEROSITY.
When they reached the stables Mr. Godspill insisted on paying $2 due for the horse's keep, and also gave the groom a $2 greenback. The horse was delivered over to him, and he called a boy standing at the stable door. Then Mr. Godspill shook Mr. Hill's hand, bowed to Mr. Homer Lane, and walked toward Second Avenue. The boy led the mare down the middle of the street in the same direction.
Mr. Hill stood looking at Mr. Godspill and the Henry Clay. Homer Lane, with his hands in his pockets, stood on edge of the sidewalk and looked down the gutter.
'Say, Homer,' said Mr. Hill, after a moment's thought, 'follow that chap and see where he goes.'
Mr. Lane sauntered down the street to Second Avenue. When he got there and looked toward Twenty-third street he saw something which
MADE HIS HEART LEAP INTO HIS MOUTH.
Mr. Godspill was standing about thirty yards from the corner, conversing in a sprightly way with the countryman from Cayuga Lake, from whom Mr. Lane had bought the Henry Clay mare.
Homer clenched his fists in his pockets and heaved a big sigh. Then he leaned against a tree and waited. In a minute Mr. Godspill and the countryman moved off down the avenue. The countryman whistled to the boy leading the mare, and he stopped. When the two men caught up with the boy, the boy went on. Homer Lane walked slowly down the avenue. Mr. Godspill, the countryman, and the boy stopped opposite a liquor store. Mr. Godspill and the countryman went in to take a drink. Homer Lane
SHOT DOWN THE STREET LIKE AN ARROW,
until he got near the boy holding the horse. Then he walked leisurely. When he reached the boy he went up to him and said, in a tremulous whisper:
'Joe, leap right on the mare and push her round to the stable like ----, Harry Hill will give you a ten dollar bill.'
The boy was across the mare's back in a second and in another the mare and her gallant rider had disappeared round Twenty-Third Street.
Mr. Homer Lane sat on a stoop nearby and treated himself to a fresh chew. He says he has seen an English prize-fighter badly licked, and a Boston champion laid flat on his back, but he never saw two men more utterly dumbfounded than Mr. Godspill and his friend when they returned to the sidewalk and saw no mare. In describing the scene to a SUN reporter Mr. Lane stopped short, and said it would be lemonade with a stick in it.
Mr. Hill sent the mare yesterday to his farm near Flushing. He says it must be a sharp man that can beat him, especially when Homer Lane is around."
The next month Lane's reign came to an end as John McMahon an upcoming star took the medal from him on May 30. That would make the last time Lane would ever see gold, or was it? Lane still had half a country left to visit.
What's most remarking is probably how it appears that immediately like when he lost to the Colonel, Lane started touring with McMahon. They were together for the majority of 1874 and the first half of 1875, it would appear that Lane had taken McMahon under his wing. In the summer both men turned up in California where they worked together off and on, travelling the country as part of an early troupe.
Lane stayed there for the rest of the year and made trips to Nevada in the New Year and picked up the Nevada State Collar & Elbow Championship from V.B. Sabine on March 21. Appears he lost the title prior to April 20 to Jeremiah Barker, on that day though Lane defeated Barker, but there is no mention of the title changing hands.
Interestingly for a match with Andre Christol on December 30, 1876, Lane is billed as the "World Collar & Elbow Champion" the words "World" and "American" were often interchangeable in this pioneer period of wrestling. Where he got the title is not clear. Whether he just started billing himself as that or whether he had actually won it, I don't know at the time of writing this. I have no listing for him with a title again after that.
Worth noting is the lack of material on him in 1877 where he seems to just disappear completely. It does seem as though he stayed exclusively in California and the Pacific Coast for the duration of the 70's though having a series of battles with Canadian star William Fox in San Francisco and Oakland.
I read once that he sustained an injury at the beginning of the 1880's which put a serious damper on his career, however, I have never been able to verify this or have any proof this did happen. What does happen though is he vanishes from 1880 through to 1884 when he turns up in Minneapolis, Minnesota on the losing end to a local wrestler called Butler.
Again all is quiet through to 1887 when he appears at a series of benefit shows and a couple of other odd appearances all in the Northeast again. One of which on April 16, 1887 was with old foe/friend, John McMahon. His career would continue this way until he retired. For the latter half of 1888 his main opponent would be Jimmy Carroll.
After a long gap between the years 1890 and 1894 the last match I have recorded for him took place on August 27, 1894 where he lost two falls to none for the Seaside Athletic Club in New York City against Joe Ryan.
What actually happened with Homer Lane may always remain a mystery. He built his name in an era where newspapers and other informational sources are through and far between and he seems to just fade away without mention in during both his periods of recorded absence and again after his last match.
Right through his last sporadic matches though he was always fondly remembered in articles and expressed as the former-champion and a great wrestler still, even better in the past. He certainly deserves his place in history as one of the earliest champions in America and someone who was right at the top of the Collar & Elbow style along with the Colonel, McMahon, Dufur, and James Owens.
Homer Lane was born on July 14, 1828 to Gad Lane and his wife Polly Gould in Lowville, Lewis County, New York. Practically nothing is known about his childhood. If he did serve in the Civil War I have never seen mention of it, but I would have to guess he did. He was jsut under 40 years old by the time that it ended.
Lane wrestled his first bout at the age of seventeen or in 1851, but 1868 is the year when I start to find regular matches for him. And what an impressive first year of opponents it is for him. He's billed for a match with one of the biggest stars of the 1860's, Lieutenant Louis Ainsworth, but Ainsworth no-shows on the June 2 date. Lane instead wrestles the legend that was Harry Hill and scored the pin-fall victory. He followed that up with a loss in August to Lew Thompson, another fairly big name for the time in the wrestling world.
September 1, 1868 was the defining moment of the year for him though when he won the American Collar & Elbow Championship in Oneida, New York from Colonel James Hiram McLaughlin. As far as is known that's the first title Homer Lane ever held in his career. For fans that are not familiar with these earliest days of American professional wrestling, Collar & Elbow was the main style through-out the 1860's and the first half of the 1870's and various times it was argued no-one was better at the style than Homer Lane.
For the next 18 months Lane took on all comers and continued to tour the Northeast of America. His reign appears to come to an end on March 10, 1870. As far as has been recorded there was an international tournament held in Detroit, Michigan where upon Lane competed and was defending his title through-out. Who knocked him out of the tournament is unknown, but eventually it would be run by the Colonel.
He would not see a medal again for over two years. Immediately after losing he went on a theater tour with the Colonel where both men took on all comers and he challenged the Colonel again at least once during that time. When McLaughlin retired from the mat, Lane either won a match for the title or just started claiming it, which is not known, but it occurred either in the spring or summer of 1872.
He'd swap the belt with Perry Higley in the fall of that year, losing it on September 18 and regaining it on October 28. Over the course of the next year he defended the title against well known opponents such as William Ainsworth, brother of Louis, and Lang Dolan a big star from the West Coast.
The following is a story a from the April 15, 1873 edition of the New York Sun:
"The LATEST HORSE STORY
A CAYUGA LAKE FARMER WHO HAD A MORTGAGE TO LIFT.
A Dignified New Jersey Justice Looking for a Favorite Henry Chay Mare - The Bargain Which a New York Publican Made - Union Square Mistake for Central Park.
... A stranger entered Mr. Henry [Harry] Hill's little theatre. The stranger was of medium height, well built, and about 35 years old. He was dressed in a rough brown suit of country-made clothes, wore a black neck tie with red spots, a stand-up collar, and a plug hate. His trousers were too tight, and rumpled up around his long, coarse boots. His face was round, clean shaved, and shiny, and he carried his hands in his trousers pockets. HE took a seat far back against the wall, drew out a briarwood pipe, loaded it, took a match from among a lot of toothpicks and watch keys which he drew from his waistcoat pocket, lighted the match on his pantaloons, and began to blow a cloud. He sat there ten minutes looking around the room and gazing on the pictures that adorned the walls. The singing was not yet begun, so the stranger arose and walked over to the shooting gallery, and got into conversation with the man in charge. Then the stranger shot two or three times. Then he walked toward the bar and sat down at the table at which Mr. Hill usually sits, and called for a drink. Presently Mr. Hill appeared from below, and approached the table. The stranger nodded and made as though he was going to rise, saying, 'Have I got your seat, sir?' Mr. Hill told him to sit still, and took a seat beside him. The stranger and Mr. Hill soon got into conversation. The stranger asked where the best place to take a horse for sale was. Mr. Hill asked the man whether he had any horses for sale. The stranger said that he had for sale one mare,
A FULL-BLOODED HENRY CLAY.
He had brought four horses from home, and had sold three. He was a farmer in Ledyard Township in Cayuga Lake, and wanted to raise enough money to pay off a mortgage. Mr. Hill asked what he wanted for the mare. The stranger said that her real value was about $800, but that as she had gone lame and he was anxious to sell so as to save further expense and get home, he would let Mr. Hill have her for $250. Mr. Hill told the stranger to bring her down, and if she suited him he would make an offer. The stranger said he didn't care about taking the trouble unless he was pretty sure to make a sale, and for his part he would not take one cent less than he had already asked. Mr. Hill said that he thought they could make a bargain, and the man promised to bring the horse down from Twenty-Fourth Street, where it was at livery, next morning at 10 sharp. The stranger was punctual, and Mr. Hill, after examining the mare-which, by the way, had a badly swelled knee-offered her owner $210. The man refused positively. The mare was accordingly taken back to Twenty-Fourth Street.
THE CAYUGA LAKE FARMER AGAIN.
In the evening about 7 o'clock the man sauntered into Mr. Hill's again. Mr. Hill quietly called aside his factotum, Homer Lane, of athletic renown, and said: 'Homer, there's the countryman who has the Henry Clay for sale. I'm certain he's sorry he didn't take my offer, and has come round here to get another chance. You tackle him. Undervalue the mare all you can. Scare the life out of the fellow with stories of horse disease, bone decay, and such like, and hint about the risk of buying horses that may have been stolen, and all that. The fellow's all square enough. I know that. He's a countryman and wants to raise money. I believe the story he tells, but you throw all the suspicion you possibly can upon the horse. You understand.'
'I understand,' said Homer, smiling grimly, and nodding, and forthwith he went over toward the countryman and entered into conversation with him.
Homer called for a small bottle of wine. The countryman asked what sort of liquor that was, and opened his heart. Homer was soon in possession of the fact that his new friend had a mare, a Henry Clay, full-blooded, for sale.
A FEARFUL ACCIDENT IN HARLEM LANE.
'A Henry Clay?' said Homer, in a tone of commiseration. 'I don't think much of Henry Clays. I bought a spanking pair of mares, Henry Clays, about a year ago. I gave $600 for 'em. I tell you they were beauties to look at. Well, I got a new set of harness made o' purpose for 'em, and the day week I bought 'em I put 'em to the wagon and went for a drive on the lane. Just when I got opposite the Cayuga House-'
'I live on Cayuga Lake when I'm to home,' interjected the stranger.
'You do, eh?' said Homer, smiling. 'Well, as I was saying, just as I got opposite the Cayuga House the mares, which had been skittish all the way up, began to rear and plunge, and before you could say Jack Robinson they sent everything flying and went off with the shaft. I got a bad fall and my head was goose eggs all over. But the worst of it was the damage cost me $471. I sold the mares just as soon's I could, and made up my mind never to buy another Henry Clay.'
SPOTTED AS AN ENGLISHMAN.
'Well, but you see,' the countryman said, 'my mare's as quiet's a lamb. And when she ain't lame she can go, you bet. And then, you see, she's full-blooded.'
'Oh, ----.' Homer exclaimed: 'don't talk about full blooded. You're an Englishman. I suppose? Ah, I thought so. Englishmen are dead on full bloods, but we this side go in for a cross. There's nothing like a cross. I don't think I'd care to own a full blood-unless, perhaps, it was a mare, so as I could get a fine cross out of here.'
'Why don't you make me an offer for my mare, then?' the countryman asked, timidly.
'I had not seen her,' was Homer's reply.
'You can ask Mr. Hill about her,' the countryman said: 'he's seen her.'
'That's so,' said Homer. 'Excuse me a minute,' and Homer went after Mr. Hill. For five minutes Mr. Hill and Homer Lane sat at a table out of sight of the countryman, and had much pleasant talk. Mr. Hill's hand was often before his mouth, and at such times his back and shoulders heaved. Finally Mr. Hill put his hand into his trousers pocket and brought up
A HANDFUL OF CRUMPLED GREENBACKS.
He spread them out upon his knee until he reached the sum of $175, which he handed to Homer Lane. Then he thrust the remainder back into his pocket. Homer Lane folded his greenbacks carefully, and placed them inside a medium-sized valise which he carried in his waistcoat pocket. Then Mr. Hill's hand went up to his mouth and his back went up and down, and Homer walked over and seated himself once more beside the countryman.
'Well, now,' Homer began, 'Hill says the horse is derned lame. And then again, you see, there's the horse disease. Why, I'm told the stables up town, especially those in Twenty-Fourth Street, has it bad. And then there's another sickness broken out. They call it spino-something-or-another. It kills a horse in about twenty-four hours. I should like well enough to buy your mare to get a good cross out of her, but it is so plague risky. What do you want for her?'
'Well, seeing it's you,' the countryman said, 'I'll let you have the mare for $200.'
THE COUNTRYMAN ALARMED.
Homer sat thinking for some time. 'I'll tell you what I'll do. You see the longer you keep that mare, the worse your chances get for selling her. She'll grow lamer before she's better. And then there's the chance of getting sick-all the bigger chance when she's got that bad leg. You may keep her there eating her head off for a week or two-'
'Well, say, what'll you give me?' the stranger asked.
'Well, now,' said Homer. 'I'll make a square deal with you. I'll give you $175.'
'Done,' the countryman said after a moment's pause. 'I see the force of what you say, and I was a derned fool not to sell this morning.'
Homer Lane and the countryman departed for the stables in Twenty-Fourth Street. The amount due for the horse's board was paid by the countryman, the transfer was duly made, and the $175 deposited in the countryman's hand. Then Homer Lane quietly took the livery stable keeper aside and told him to keep the mare until Mr. Hill sent for her. Homer Lane and the countryman shook hands and separated.
AN UNPLEASANT VISITOR.
At about noon on Wednesday, a tall, handsomely-dressed gentleman entered Mr. Hill's saloon and asked for the proprietor. He was told that Mr. Hill was at the barber's, and would be round in a few minutes. The gentleman said he would wait. In about ten minutes Mr. Hill entered.
'Mr. Hill, I believe,' the gentleman said, with great dignity.
'Thad's my name, sir.' was Mr. Hill's reply.
'Mr. Hill,' the stately visitor said, 'I'm very sorry to come on such unpleasant business.'
'What-what's the matter?' Mr. Hill exclaimed, the corners of his mouth beginning to droop.
'I believe, sir,' said the imposing stranger, 'that you yesterday purchased a Henry Clay mare, lame on the front off leg?'
'Yes, sir,' Mr. Hill replied, 'and what if I did?'
'Were you not aware, sir,' the gentleman said, elevating his head and assuming an air of severity,' that a valuable mare like that could not be sold for $175 unless the person selling her had come by the property in a dishonest way?'
'When a man wants money,' Mr. Hill said, weakening under the telling point, 'he sometimes makes a sacrifice.'
MR. GODSPILL, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE.
'That horse, or mare, rather, sir, was stolen-stolen from me, sir, about two weeks ago. She was a pet mare, sir, for which I would not have taken any money.'
'Well, sir,' said Mr. Hill, 'I hear what you say; but how do I know that it's the same mare you speak of, or whether you are the owner?'
The gentleman cast a glance of mingled scorn and dignity on Mr. Hill, and drew forth a capacious pocketbook. From the unfolded book he took an enameled card and handed it to Mr. Hill. 'That, sir,' said he, 'is my name.'
Mr. Hill held the card up to the flight and read as follows:
"Mr. GEO. W. GODSPILL
Attorney at Law,
Groveville,
Mercer Co
N.J.
Justice of Peace."
'Well, Mr. Godspill,' Mr. Hill said, after having carefully read the card, ' I don't see how this proves you to be owner of the mare.'
A DISCRIPTION OF THE THIEF.
'Allow me, sir,' said Mr. Godspill, producing a neatly folded paper from his pocketbook, and opening it under Mr. Hill's nose. 'This, sir, you will see is a warrant of apprehension of the thief and on the back is a full description of this person.'
Mr. Hill glanced at the warrant. Then he turned it and read the description carefully. There was no doubt about it. It was a perfect picture of the countryman down to his clumsy boots and rumpled pantaloons.
'Sold again!' Mr. Hill said, with a forced laugh. 'Well, sir, all I can say is, I'm very sorry. I don't care a curse about the money, but I hate to be taken in. I suppose you know where the mare is?'
'I do, sir.' said Mr. Godspill. 'I traced her to the stables in Twenty-Fourth Street this morning.'
'Well, then,' Mr. Hill said, 'You can go and take the animal.'
'Excuse me, sir,' Mr. Godspill replied, 'the man in charge won't give her up unless authorized by you in person.'
'Tommy,' Mr. Hill called out, 'Where's Homer Lane?'
'He is upstairs, sir; I'll run for him.'
Presently Homer Lane, horse dealer and athlete, appeared from above, and Mr. Hill explained the situation. Mr. Lane drew the back of his hand across his mouth and looked at the floor.
'Tommy,' said Mr. Hill, 'get a hack from the Metropolitan, and we'll go up together.'
In due time the hack came round, and the three gentlemen were bowled up Broadway and Fourth Avenue to Twenty-Fourth Street. There was much pleasant talk by the way. Mr. Godspill expressed his regret at having made the acquaintance of Mr. Hill under such unpleasant circumstances. Mr. Hill smiled sweetly, and asked Mr. Godspill whether he had heard of his famous horse, Curiosity?
When they reached Union Square, Mr. Godspill looked out at the window through his eye glasses, and asked whether it was Central Park. When told his mistake, he excused himself by saying that he was a plain stay-at-home man, and had never been but once in New York for the last thirty years.
MR. GODSPILL'S GENEROSITY.
When they reached the stables Mr. Godspill insisted on paying $2 due for the horse's keep, and also gave the groom a $2 greenback. The horse was delivered over to him, and he called a boy standing at the stable door. Then Mr. Godspill shook Mr. Hill's hand, bowed to Mr. Homer Lane, and walked toward Second Avenue. The boy led the mare down the middle of the street in the same direction.
Mr. Hill stood looking at Mr. Godspill and the Henry Clay. Homer Lane, with his hands in his pockets, stood on edge of the sidewalk and looked down the gutter.
'Say, Homer,' said Mr. Hill, after a moment's thought, 'follow that chap and see where he goes.'
Mr. Lane sauntered down the street to Second Avenue. When he got there and looked toward Twenty-third street he saw something which
MADE HIS HEART LEAP INTO HIS MOUTH.
Mr. Godspill was standing about thirty yards from the corner, conversing in a sprightly way with the countryman from Cayuga Lake, from whom Mr. Lane had bought the Henry Clay mare.
Homer clenched his fists in his pockets and heaved a big sigh. Then he leaned against a tree and waited. In a minute Mr. Godspill and the countryman moved off down the avenue. The countryman whistled to the boy leading the mare, and he stopped. When the two men caught up with the boy, the boy went on. Homer Lane walked slowly down the avenue. Mr. Godspill, the countryman, and the boy stopped opposite a liquor store. Mr. Godspill and the countryman went in to take a drink. Homer Lane
SHOT DOWN THE STREET LIKE AN ARROW,
until he got near the boy holding the horse. Then he walked leisurely. When he reached the boy he went up to him and said, in a tremulous whisper:
'Joe, leap right on the mare and push her round to the stable like ----, Harry Hill will give you a ten dollar bill.'
The boy was across the mare's back in a second and in another the mare and her gallant rider had disappeared round Twenty-Third Street.
Mr. Homer Lane sat on a stoop nearby and treated himself to a fresh chew. He says he has seen an English prize-fighter badly licked, and a Boston champion laid flat on his back, but he never saw two men more utterly dumbfounded than Mr. Godspill and his friend when they returned to the sidewalk and saw no mare. In describing the scene to a SUN reporter Mr. Lane stopped short, and said it would be lemonade with a stick in it.
Mr. Hill sent the mare yesterday to his farm near Flushing. He says it must be a sharp man that can beat him, especially when Homer Lane is around."
The next month Lane's reign came to an end as John McMahon an upcoming star took the medal from him on May 30. That would make the last time Lane would ever see gold, or was it? Lane still had half a country left to visit.
What's most remarking is probably how it appears that immediately like when he lost to the Colonel, Lane started touring with McMahon. They were together for the majority of 1874 and the first half of 1875, it would appear that Lane had taken McMahon under his wing. In the summer both men turned up in California where they worked together off and on, travelling the country as part of an early troupe.
Lane stayed there for the rest of the year and made trips to Nevada in the New Year and picked up the Nevada State Collar & Elbow Championship from V.B. Sabine on March 21. Appears he lost the title prior to April 20 to Jeremiah Barker, on that day though Lane defeated Barker, but there is no mention of the title changing hands.
Interestingly for a match with Andre Christol on December 30, 1876, Lane is billed as the "World Collar & Elbow Champion" the words "World" and "American" were often interchangeable in this pioneer period of wrestling. Where he got the title is not clear. Whether he just started billing himself as that or whether he had actually won it, I don't know at the time of writing this. I have no listing for him with a title again after that.
Worth noting is the lack of material on him in 1877 where he seems to just disappear completely. It does seem as though he stayed exclusively in California and the Pacific Coast for the duration of the 70's though having a series of battles with Canadian star William Fox in San Francisco and Oakland.
I read once that he sustained an injury at the beginning of the 1880's which put a serious damper on his career, however, I have never been able to verify this or have any proof this did happen. What does happen though is he vanishes from 1880 through to 1884 when he turns up in Minneapolis, Minnesota on the losing end to a local wrestler called Butler.
Again all is quiet through to 1887 when he appears at a series of benefit shows and a couple of other odd appearances all in the Northeast again. One of which on April 16, 1887 was with old foe/friend, John McMahon. His career would continue this way until he retired. For the latter half of 1888 his main opponent would be Jimmy Carroll.
After a long gap between the years 1890 and 1894 the last match I have recorded for him took place on August 27, 1894 where he lost two falls to none for the Seaside Athletic Club in New York City against Joe Ryan.
What actually happened with Homer Lane may always remain a mystery. He built his name in an era where newspapers and other informational sources are through and far between and he seems to just fade away without mention in during both his periods of recorded absence and again after his last match.
Right through his last sporadic matches though he was always fondly remembered in articles and expressed as the former-champion and a great wrestler still, even better in the past. He certainly deserves his place in history as one of the earliest champions in America and someone who was right at the top of the Collar & Elbow style along with the Colonel, McMahon, Dufur, and James Owens.
Unique content strictly for the Professional Wrestling Historical Society.
Biography of Homer Lane.
Author: Jimmy Wheeler.
Published: July 2014.
Biography: #78.
Editor: Jimmy Wheeler.
Unique content strictly for the Professional Wrestling Historical Society.
Biography of Homer Lane.
Author: Jimmy Wheeler.
Published: July 2014.
Biography: #78.
Editor: Jimmy Wheeler.