Dick Carlisle and the South Bend Brawl that Never Happened

Reported secondhand in an Ohio newspaper, this is a story that needs to be seen to be (dis)believed.

BY AARON HELMAN // POSTED FEBRUARY 6, 2026

I'm about to repeat some lies. It's something historians probably aren't supposed to do, but it's also something newspapermen aren't supposed to do either, and that didn't stop the esteemed editor of the Holmes County Farmer from running this bit of unhinged insanity in February 1861.

Not sure where Holmes County is? That's where Millersburg, Ohio is.

Not sure where Millersburg, Ohio is? Me neither.

Anyway, the hero of the story, as reported in the Holmes County Farmer, is Richard Risley Carlisle. Carlisle is notable for being the founder of New Carlise and then for becoming the most famous juggler in the world. Besides that, he was an entrepreneur, a marksman, and a legendary acrobat. According to the article, he was also a hell of a fighter.

The origins of this story are impossible to determine. The incident allegedly occurred in South Bend some time during the 1850s. Some years later, the story was passed along to a travelling singer named Ossian Dodge. Dodge is alleged to have written the story under a pen name and sent it off to a newspaper out of Cleveland. The Cleveland newspaper printed the tale, and that story was reprinted in the Farmer.

It's hearsay at best. None of this would hold up in court of law.

The story begins at a mostly unknown place, a “country dance” where Richard Carlisle is the most popular guy on the floor. He's as quick as a cat and as muscular as a horse. Everyone just calls him Dick.

At some point during the festivities, a half-dozen strapping big fellows charged onto the dance floor and announced in loud voices that they had come to kiss every girl in the room. They threatened violence if their demands were not met. Some of the women might have screamed. Others may have swooned.

Dick wasn't having it.

According to the Farmer, Carlisle quickly knocked one of the rascals out, then took the poor guy by the heels and began swinging him as a club. He bludgeoned the remaining bullies with their friend for a period lasting not more than three minutes. Realizing they'd been bested, the would-be smooch-stealers fled the scene, already plotting their revenge.

The battle on the dance floor was over, but the war was just beginning.

Defeated in their quest for kisses, the dance hall bullies needed a new strategy to deal with Richard Carlisle, so they ran off to recruit a ringer. They'd heard tell of a big fighting man four miles to the south who could, and this is a direct quote, whip his weight in wild cats. They hired him for what was then the enormous sum of $25 and sent him toward Carlisle's shop.

The big man accosted Carlisle at his store a few days later and made his intentions clear. Dick agreed to the fight, just as soon as his shop was empty and the pair of pugilists had shared a drink together. The fighter from the south side acceded to Carlisle's terms.

After that, the fight began in earnest, and I'll let the Holmes County Farmer take it from here:

The big fellow made a lunge with his long muscular arm, as if he meant to annihilate his opponent with one blow; but Dick quickly warded off the compliment, and striking straight from the shoulder, gave the fellow a tap on the neck that sent him to the grass like a bag of potatoes, and immediately commenced dancing around him in the most comical style imaginable. After getting up and shaking himself together, the fellow made a second lunge, which was as easily parried as the first, and followed by a rap on the cranium which doubled him up like a jack-knife.

“Dear, dear,” says Dick, “that was too bad! I hit you rather hard, didn't I old fellow?”

“Blast you!” was the reply. “I'll pay you back with interest in a few minutes!”

This maddened the fellow so that he sprang to his feet, and blindly went in for a big fight. Dick adroitly warded off his good intentions, however, and giving him an auctioneer on the temple, spread him out like a wet rag.

That was the end of the fight. The man surrendered on the rationale that he believed Carlisle's blows would whip the very devil himself. The two poured another round of drinks, and evidently, became great friends.

According to the (tall) tale, that hired brute became a baggage man during Carlisle's circus adventures across the United States, China, and Japan.

It's a hell of a story. It's just too bad that it's not true.

Richard Risley Carlisle founded New Carlisle in 1835, but he left Indiana for good in 1840. If there was a dance out in the country, Carlisle wasn't around to attend it. If there was a brawl in the city Carlisle wasn't there to fight it. If a big man wanted to fight a shopkeeper for $25, Richard Carlisle no longer had a shop to keep.

Twenty years after he left St. Joseph County, all that was left of Dick Carlisle was the name of his town and the tall tales that had risen in his wake. To hear the Holmes County Farmer tell it, his legend had a long echo indeed.