CHAPTER III.
JACK BROUGHTON (CHAMPION)—1734–1750.
Broughton is indisputably entitled to be regarded as the founder of the modern art of self-defence. The successor of Fig in popularity, he far exceeded that stalwart cudgeller in fistic science, and in the application of those principles which stripped the practice of boxing of many of those features of ruffianism and barbarity with which the unregulated contests of mere bruisers had invested it. There was a neatness and quickness in his style which far distanced his competitors, and drew crowds to witness his exhibitions. He appears first to have introduced stopping and barring blows, then hitting and getting away; before him it appears to have been toe-to-toe work, or downright hammering; at any rate, his method appears to have had the novelty of a discovery with his spectators and his antagonists. He stopped the blows aimed at any part of him by his adversaries with so much skill, and hit his man away with so much ease, that he astonished and daunted his opponents, and those persons who had the temerity to enter the lists with Broughton, were soon convinced of his superior knowledge and athletic prowess: while most of his competitors, who were compelled to give in from their exhausted and beaten state, had the mortification to behold Broughton scarcely touched, displaying as much cheerfulness and indifference as if he had scarcely been engaged in a set-to.
He was indebted to nature for a good person; his countenance was manly and open, possessing a sharp and penetrating eye, that almost looked through the object before him, which gave animation to his face. His form was athletic and commanding, and denoted uncommon strength. Every spectator felt impressed who beheld him. Six feet, wanting an inch, in height, and fourteen stone, or thereabouts, in weight.
Broughton became as a fixed star in the pugilistic hemisphere, His talents as a boxer gained him many admirers and patrons; but his good temper, generosity of disposition, and gentleness of manners, ensured him numerous friends. He was intelligent, communicative, and not destitute of wit. The system he laid down was plain, and easy to be understood; and, under his instruction, several of his pupils arrived at pugilistic eminence, and gave distinguished proofs of the acquirements they had gained under so great a master.
Broughton was still, up to 1742, an exhibitor at the Great Booth of George Taylor; we shall, therefore, before giving an account of his adventures “on his own hook,” turn to his exploits at the Tottenham Court Road establishment.
Like all great masters, Broughton, we learn, always exhibited something new in his several contests; and those pugilists who had seen him fight, and supposed they had observed his method, were awfully deceived when they entered the lists with him, and expected to “nail” him on “the old suit.”
Contrary to most other boxers, he did not depend upon any particular blow, although he was distinguished for giving some remarkable hits, which were not easily forgotten. Broughton, when necessary in the conflict, by putting in “his stomach blow,” often decided the battle; and his lunge under the ear generally produced terrible consequences to his opponent. The eye of Broughton was lively, piercing, and acute, soon perceiving the weakness of any adversary; his arm, keeping pace with that valuable assistant, protected him from the most destructive blows; and his quick penetration made him always aware of any direct intent pursued by his adversary, so as immediately to render it unavailing. His guard was so complete, that his frame appeared secured as if in a fence, uncommon strength and bottom often fell before him, and his expertness in the cross-buttock was great. His various attitudes in the fight were fine and impressive, and his countenance always animated and cheerful.
Pipes and Gretting, already named, both distinguished pugilists—the former of whom hardily maintained the title of a “Champion” for a number of years—appeared nothing in the hands of Broughton, who gave them several chances to recover their lost laurels; these each proved beatings to them, and tended to increase his growing fame.
George Taylor, of whom honourable mention has been made, fell as a conquest to Broughton.
JACK BROUGHTON (Champion), 1734–1750.
From the Painting by Frank Hayman, R.A., formerly in the possession of the Duke of Cumberland.
“George Stevenson, the coachman,” says our perpetual resource, Captain Godfrey, whose thin quarto we must almost plead guilty to reprinting piecemeal, “stood up for the length of forty minutes in a most heroic style to Broughton. It was a hasty match, and although Broughton was extremely unwell, sooner than make any excuse, he agreed to fight Stevenson without having that regard for his preparation which he afterwards found he ought to have had. But here his true bottom was proved, and his conduct shone and admired. The battle was fought in one of the fair booths at Tottenham Court Road, railed at the end towards the pit. After a most desperate conflict of thirty-five minutes, being both against the rails, and the coachman endeavouring to get the whip-hand of Broughton, the latter, by his superior genius, got such a lock upon Stevenson as no mathematician could have devised a better. There he held him by this artificial lock, depriving him of all power of rising or falling, till resting his head for about three or four minutes upon his back, he found himself recovering, then loosed his hold. By this manœuvre Broughton became as a new man, and, on setting-to again, he gave the coachman a tremendous blow, as hard as any he had given him in the whole battle, so that he could no longer stand, and his brave contending heart, though with reluctance, was forced to yield. Stevenson was a beautiful hitter; he put in his blows faster than Broughton, but then one of the latter’s told for three of the former’s. Stevenson had a most daring spirit, but his strength could not keep pace with it.”
Broughton expressed a very high opinion of Stevenson as a pugilist.
Jack James, a dashing boxer, who ranked high in the annals of pugilism as a thorough-bred man, was compelled to acknowledge that he had found his master in Broughton. James’s wrist, which in other contests had been considered so remarkably “handsome,” lost its attraction when in contact with the athletic arm of Broughton.
We need not proceed further with an enumeration of his earlier contests, but come at once to his appearance at his own theatre, in the character of Champion of England.
We have noticed his differences with George Taylor. Broughton was promised liberal support and patronage if he would open a theatre for the better accommodation of the admirers of boxing.
Under the patronage we have already spoken of, Broughton seceded from the Tottenham Court Road establishment, rapidly completing a new building adjoining the Oxford Road, near the spot where Hanway Street, Oxford Street, now stands, and opened it on March 10th, 1743, with the subjoined advertisement in the Daily Advertiser. From prints yet existing in the British Museum, it appears that this edifice was somewhat similar to Astley’s original circus and riding school, in the Westminster Road, or rather the large temporary and removable theatres, which have of late travelled with equestrian exhibitions round our principal provincial towns. There were boxes, pit, and a gallery; a stage for the combatants in the centre of the ring, and the tout ensemble bore some resemblance to the pictures of the Old Fives Court, in Windmill Street. The following is a copy of the announcement:—
The appearance of this rival was a cruel blow to George Taylor, who saw the ruinous results which must ensue to his “booth” from Broughton’s popularity: he, therefore, as a counter hit, instantly let fly in the following terms:—
Whereas, Mr. Broughton, well knowing that I was to fight Mr. Field on Tuesday next, the 13th of March, 1743, in order to injure me, has maliciously advertised to open his Amphitheatre on that day, and where several battles are then to be fought. To prevent the public from being deceived, I feel it my duty to inform them, that the principal part of the persons mentioned were never made acquainted with such circumstances, and have no intention of so doing. Mr. Broughton wishes to make it appear that he never imposed upon any of the pugilists who had been concerned with him in any transaction whatever; but his imposition shall soon be made manifest to the world. And to show Mr. Broughton that I have no animosity against him as a pugilist, or any jealousy concerning his amphitheatre, I am willing to fight him, as soon as he may think proper, wherever it may please him, not regarding, as he loudly sets forth, the strength of his arm.
We are inclined to suspect that there was a little “gag” in the names of the pugilists set forth by Broughton, from subsequent occurrences; be that as it may, Taylor had already fallen beneath his conquering fist, and his challenge was viewed as nothing more than mere bounce, to detract from the triumph of the rival manager.
The charges of Taylor, made from time to time, led to a sort of paper war. Taylor charged Broughton with appropriating to himself the “Lion’s Share” of the door-money, to the injury of the other pugilists. This accusation Broughton replied to by showing to the satisfaction of his patrons that he had not received one hundred pounds; that his amphitheatre had cost him upwards of £400; that he had appropriated but a third part of the door-money for his own individual emolument, and that the rest had been shared among the pugilists. This account proving satisfactory, firmly established Broughton; and Taylor, perceiving that it would be useless to oppose so powerful an opponent, relinquished his booth, and was engaged at the Amphitheatre, where the most noted of his “merry men” followed him, under an engagement to fight on no stage but his.
We now come to one of the most important epochs in the history of boxing, namely the promulgation of a “Code” for the guidance of the combatants, and the satisfaction of the judges. These rules were “produced by Mr. Broughton, for the better regulation of the Amphitheatre, and approved of by the gentlemen, and agreed to by the pugilists, August 18th, 1743.” The code promulgated by this Fistic Napoleon, whose law-making and fall were much like those of his great successor, had a much longer duration than the “Code Napoleon!” for they lasted in perfect integrity from the period of their date until 1838, when, after the fight between Owen Swift and Brighton Bill, the “New Rules of the Ring” superseded Broughton’s. We here give the original—
1. That a square of a yard be chalked in the middle of the stage; and every fresh set-to after a fall, or being parted from the rails, each second is to bring his man to the side of the square, and place him opposite to the other; and till they are fairly set-to at the lines, it shall not be lawful for the one to strike the other.
2. That, in order to prevent any disputes as to the time a man lies after a fall, if the second does not bring his man to the side of the square, within the space of half a minute, he shall be deemed a beaten man.
3. That, in every main battle, no person whatever shall be upon the stage, except the principals and their seconds; the same rule to be observed in bye-battles, except that in the latter, Mr. Broughton is allowed to be upon the stage to keep decorum, and to assist gentlemen in getting to their places; provided always, he does not interfere in the battle; and whoever presumes to infringe these rules, to be turned immediately out of the house. Everybody is to quit the stage as soon as the champions are stripped, before they set-to.
4. That no champion be deemed beaten, unless he fails coming up to the line in the limited time; or that his own second declares him beaten. No second is to be allowed to ask his man’s adversary any questions or advise him to give out.
5. That, in bye-battles, the winning man to have two-thirds of the money given, which shall be publicly divided upon the stage, notwithstanding any private agreement to the contrary.
6. That to prevent disputes, in every main battle, the principals shall, on the coming on the stage, choose from among the gentlemen present two umpires, who shall absolutely decide all disputes that may arise about the battle; and if the two umpires cannot agree, the said umpires to choose a third, who is to determine it.
7. That no person is to hit his adversary when he is down, or seize him by the ham, the breeches, or any part below the waist: a man on his knees to be reckoned down.
These rules may be called the groundwork of fair play and manly boxing, and no man, from his experience, was better able to frame such a code than Broughton. “It is to be observed,” says the talented author of ‘Fistiana’ (V. G. Dowling, Esq.), “that to them we greatly owe that spirit of fair play which offers so wide a contrast to the practices of barbarous ages, when every advantage was admissible when brute strength or accidental casualties placed a combatant in the power of his antagonist. It is to be lamented that, even in modern times, the inhuman practices of uncivilised periods have subsisted to a disgraceful extent, and hence we have heard of gouging, that is to say, forcing out the eye of an antagonist with the thumbs or fingers—purring, kicking a man with nailed shoes as he lies on the ground, striking him in vital parts below the waistband, seizing him when on his knees, and administering punishment till life be extinct, and a variety of other savage expedients by which revenge or passion has been gratified; and it is remarkable that in those counties in which pugilism or prize-fights have been least encouraged, these horrors have been most frequent. We refer to Lancashire in particular, where, even to this day, that species of contest called up-and-down fighting—that is, when a man is got down he is kept down and punished till incapable of motion—is permitted with impunity, unless indeed the death of the victim leads to the apprehension and trial of the survivor.”
The adoption of Broughton’s rules in the metropolis soon led to their extensive dissemination in the provinces, and public boxing was thereby stripped of half its evils; while in the adjustment of private quarrels, the settlement of the simple issue of “which was the better man” after “a fair stand up fight,” put an end to all bad feeling, and the conqueror or the conquered submitted with a good grace to “the fate of war;” the strongest proof of the effects of cultivation, and the best test of a manly and honourable feeling.
“To Broughton, then,” continues Mr. Dowling, “is to be ascribed the credit of two great reforms in the practice of pugilism, namely, the introduction of science and humanity; and by the moral effects these inculcated, more has been done to establish the high character of Englishmen for honour and fair play, than by all the eloquence of the pulpit or the senate.” To Broughton also do we owe the introduction of gloves, or mufflers, for conducting mock combats or sparring matches, as they are now called, by which men receive lessons without injury, or display the art of self-defence without those painful consequences to which Captain Godfrey so willingly submitted, and which he so feelingly describes, but which deterred young aspirants from entering those arenas in which, after harmless initiation, they often became distinguished adepts, or were prepared to take their own parts in unavoidable encounters. Broughton thus announces his new invention in the Daily Advertiser of February, 1747:—
“Mr. Broughton proposes, with proper assistance, to open an academy at his house in the Haymarket, for the instruction of those who are willing to be initiated in the mystery of boxing, where the whole theory and practice of that truly British art, with all the various stops, blows, cross-buttocks, etc., incident to combatants, will be fully taught and explained; and that persons of quality and distinction may not be debarred from entering into a course of those lectures, they will be given with the utmost tenderness and regard to the delicacy of the frame and constitution of the pupil; for which reason mufflers are provided, that will effectually secure them from the inconveniency of black eyes, broken jaws, and bloody noses.”
We have said that Broughton’s original calling was that of a waterman; it appears that the interest of his royal patron made him one of the Yeomen of the Guard to the King. He also accompanied the Duke of Cumberland on a tour to the Continent, of which an anecdote is preserved, of which we may say, si non è vero è ben trovato. “At Berlin he saw the fine regiment of Grenadiers raised by Frederick the Great. The champion was asked by his patron what he thought of any of them for a set-to, when Broughton, with a smile, instantly replied, ‘Why, your Royal Highness, I should have no objection to fight the whole regiment, only be kind enough to allow me a breakfast between each battle.’” Thomas Carlyle has omitted this.
Thus far, Broughton appears to have sailed on the wave of triumph. His patrons were numerous and aristocratic; but the confidence which good fortune begets was to prove to him a snare, as it has to many before and since. Slack, a butcher, and a pugilist of some note, but who had already succumbed to George Taylor, had, it appears, a quarrel with Broughton on a race-course, which led to a threat on the part of the champion that he would horsewhip Slack. The result was a challenge: Slack obtained friends, a match was made for £200 a-side, and as the door money was included in the sum contended for, it was estimated at £600 clear. Although properly falling under the biography of Slack, we here give the battle, for the purpose of rendering as complete as possible the history of the Father of Scientific Pugilism.
Broughton’s overweening confidence proved his ruin; for, as we learn from a contemporary authority, “he refused to take training preparation,” although “he had not fought for a long time.” Let others take warning by his fall.
On the evening previous to the battle (Tuesday, April 10, 1750) Broughton, who had invited his patrons and numerous friends to witness the battle, was rather apprehensive that Slack would not fight, and for fear any disappointment should take place, made the latter a present of ten guineas not to break his engagement.
For the first five minutes, Broughton’s superiority over Slack was so evident, that the odds were ten to one in his favour; when Slack, recovering a little from the effects of his antagonist’s blows, made a sudden and unexpected jump, planting a desperate hit between the champion’s eyes, which immediately closed them up. Broughton now appeared stupefied; and as it was two or three minutes before the effects of this fatal blow were manifest, the spectators were at a loss to account for the unusual movements of Broughton, who appeared to feel for, instead of boldly facing and attacking his man. At length his patron, the Duke of Cumberland, exclaimed, “What are you about, Broughton?—you can’t fight!—you’re beat!” To which Broughton instantly replied, “I can’t see my man, your highness—I’m blind, but not beat: only let me see my man, and he shall not gain the day yet.” Broughton’s situation was truly distressing; and Slack, following up this singular advantage, obtained a victory in fourteen minutes!
The Duke appears to have been most unworthily angered at his loss, which has been (we suspect extravagantly) stated to have amounted to £10,000. He always declared he had been “sold.” There seems no cause for such an assertion.
This defeat proved Broughton’s ruin. The Duke of Cumberland could never speak of this contest with any degree of temper, and turned his back on the beaten man. The legislature interfered, the amphitheatre was closed, and Broughton never fought more. Previous to this battle, it is said he had grown plethoric; if so, it requires no great acumen to opine the cause of the sudden swelling which temporarily blinded him.
The best monument to the memory of Broughton is the character and description of his pupil and admirer, the gallant Captain, which eulogy, like that of Lord Byron on the “eminent” Mr. John Jackson, remain permanent answers to the slanderers of pugilists and pugilism.
“Advance, brave Broughton!” exclaims Captain Godfrey. “Thee I pronounce captain of the boxers. As far as I can look back, I think I ought to open the ‘characters’ with him: I know none so fit, so able to lead up the van. This is giving him the living preference to the rest; but I hope I have not given any cause to say that there has appeared in any of my characters a partial tincture. I have thoroughly consulted nothing but my unbiassed mind, and my heart has known no call but merit. Wherever I have praised, I have no desire of pleasing; wherever decried, no fear of offending. Broughton, by his manly merit, has bid the highest, therefore has my heart. I really think all will poll with me, who poll with the same principle. Sure there is some standing reason for this preference: what can be stronger than to say that, for seventeen or eighteen years, he has fought every able boxer that appeared against him, and has never yet been beat? This being the case, we may venture to conclude from it; but not to build alone on this, let us examine farther into his merits. What is it that he wants? Has he not all that others want, and all the best can have? Strength equal to what is human, skill and judgment equal to what can be acquired, undebauched wind, and a bottom spirit never to pronounce the word ‘enough.’ He fights the stick as well as most men, and understands a good deal of the small sword. This practice has given him the distinction of time and measure beyond the rest. He stops as regularly as the swordsman, and carries his blows truly in the line; he steps not back, distrusting of himself, to stop a blow, and puddle in the return, with an arm unaided by his body, producing but fly-flap blows, such as pastrycooks use to beat those insects from their tarts and cheese-cakes. No! Broughton steps bold and firmly in, bids a welcome to the coming blow; receives it with his guardian arm; then, with a general summons of his swelling muscles, and his firm body seconding his arm, and supplying it with all its weight, pours the pile-driving force upon his man.
“That I may not be thought particular in dwelling long upon Broughton, I leave him with this assertion, that as he, I believe, will scarce trust a battle to a waning age, I never shall think he is to be beat till I see him beaten.”[18]
Broughton retired into private life. In his later days he resided in Walcot Place, Lambeth. He was for many years seen as a constant frequenter of sales of private property, where he purchased out-of-the-way things, curiosities, and articles of vertu, and adhered to the costume of the period of the Second George. Of these habits the author of “Recollections of an Octogenarian,” gives us the following information:—“He appeared to me,” says the writer, “a heavy, thick, round-made, large-boned man, about the height of Humphries.[19] To be sure when I saw him last he was in the vale of years, and had acquired some corpulency. It might be about the year 1785, when attending a lady, to look at some household goods, which were to be sold by auction in Walcot Place, Lambeth, a catalogue could not be procured, and seeing Broughton with one in his hand, I civilly requested the favour of him to permit the lady to look at a certain article in it. The old man replied with a sullen asperity of countenance, ‘I want it myself,’ turning his back upon me. At the instant, up started a little, pert, natty, humorous Jew broker, who, with real politeness, made the lady an offer of his catalogue, and casting an arch look at the testy old champion, who was still close to us, ‘Ah!’ said he, ‘Master Broughton, then you are a bear to-day,’ alluding to the bulls and bears of Change Alley, where Broughton was well known to be daily jobbing with his property.”
The “Octogenarian” confirms the statement given below from the Annual Register:—“He (Broughton) had long before left the ring, and lived independently on the property he had saved, and on an annuity which he enjoyed from his Royal Master, the old, or Culloden, Duke of Cumberland, whom, by the bye, he used in former days to style ‘Duke William.’” Boxiana says he died January the 8th, 1789, but this can hardly be the correct date. In the Annual Register for 1789, Chronicle for January, we read as follows:—“Died, at his house, at Walcot Place, Lambeth, in his 85th year, the celebrated John Broughton, whose skill in boxing is well known, and will ever be recorded in the annals of that science. He was originally bred a waterman. His patron, the late Duke of Cumberland, got him appointed one of the yeomen of the guard, which place he enjoyed till his death. He was buried in Lambeth Church on the 21st instant, and his funeral procession was adorned with the presence of the several capital professors of boxing. He is supposed to have died worth £7,000.”
His enjoyment of his place and pension till death seems to qualify the “utter desertion” of his patron, and falsify the “ruin” which is related in Boxiana apparently to “adorn a tale,” if not “to point a moral.”
CHAPTER IV.
JACK SLACK (CHAMPION)—1750–1760.
Though the prestige of Broughton has gone far to illustrate the name of his conqueror, this lucky, rather than skilful, achievement will not give him the place he deserves among boxers with those with whom success is not “the be-all and end-all” in war or in worldly fortune. Slack fought better battles than that in which he tore the laurel from the brow of the veteran Broughton. We read of him in a contemporary journal:—“Slack is a butcher from Norwich; his height is five feet eight inches and a half, and his weight nearly fourteen stone. He is remarkably compact” (we should think so at fourteen stone for so short a man), “superior to the generality of men in strength, and of excellent bottom. His method of hitting is not regular, and he seldom fights on a preconcerted plan; but his style being suited to the man contending with him, few were able to resist him, when he resolved on victory. His blows were usually given with such force, that his name ‘Slack’ passed into a slang expression, and ‘a slack’un’ meant a smashing hit. His attitude was remarkably upright, legs little separated, the right hand covering the pit of the stomach, and the left placed immediately before the mouth.”[20] It is not possible to distinguish much science in such an attitude, and had he not been more resolute in attack, and more game in taking punishment than his opponents, he might have missed the proud title of champion. We are told, “with the greatest resolution he disputed every inch of ground, and was so averse to shifting or retreating, that he has risked and received a knock-down blow rather than give up his position. Slack frequently used the chopper,[21] and generally with success (this says little for his opponents’ defence), in a return. Bringing his fist to his breast, and projecting his elbow, he threw off a blow describing a segment of a circle(!), the centre of which was the elbow, unexpectedly striking his antagonist in the face with the back of his hand. This mode was completely his own, but has since been adopted by many.” (“Pancratia,” p. 40). We do not know that we have ever read more nonsense in as many lines; but this is not the place for a treatise on the art.
Slack, after numerous victories in the provinces, came up to Broughton’s booth, about 1748, to try his fortune. It may interest some of our readers to see a challenge of the day in which John Slack figures as the respondent. The advertisement is curious.
October 30, 1744.—At the Castle, in Framlingham, in Suffolk, on Monday, the 12th day of November next ensuing, there will be a severe trial of manhood between the following Champions, viz.,
I, Daniel Smith, the Suffolk Champion, do once more invite Mr. John Slack, the Norfolk Champion, to meet and fight me at the time and place above said, for the sum of forty guineas: and though I had the misfortune to be defeated by him before, am sure I am much superior in the art of boxing, and doubt not but I shall give him and the company entire satisfaction.
I, John Slack, the Norfolk Champion, do accept the above challenge, and will be certain to meet and fight the above hero for the said sum, at the time and place above mentioned; and don’t doubt but I shall support the character I have hitherto maintained.
N.B. They are to fight upon a stage, and galleries will be erected for the reception of gentlemen, &c.
The doors will be opened at nine o’clock, and the champions mount the stage at one.
It will be seen from this that Daniel Smith had already fallen before Slack’s ponderous arm. When and where we have found no record. That on this occasion he again made the Suffolk champion strike his colours, may be fairly assumed from the fact that when, after some successes over inferior boxers, he had the audacity to challenge George Taylor himself, it is recorded as Slack’s first defeat. “He had not been hitherto beaten.” The battle, as already narrated, took place on the last day of January, 1750, at Broughton’s amphitheatre, and was a desperate contest on the part of Slack, who rushed in till he was punished to helplessness.
JACK SLACK, of Bristol, the Conqueror of Broughton.
From a Bust sculptured by Sivier.
Shortly after this defeat Slack was present at Hounslow Races. Here a dispute arose, in the course of which Broughton, considering Slack’s conduct insolent, assumed a high tone of superiority, threatening to horsewhip “the butcher” on the spot. With the merits of the quarrel we have nothing to do. Slack, in whose composition there was certainly no fear of man, at once challenged the redoubted and highly patronised waterman, who upon the spot accepted the defiance. Some of the preliminary incidents of this remarkable battle have been already touched upon in the memoir of Broughton. That skilful boxer appears to have viewed the challenge of Slack with a fatal self-confidence. Indeed, considering that Slack had recently surrendered to Taylor, whose qualifications none knew better than Broughton, who had long since defeated him, probably more than once, there was some ground for confidence, and we have it on authority that he considered there was no necessity for regular training, imperfectly as that process was carried out at that period. We prefer copying an account from a paper of the day, to the embellished apocrypha of later histories.
“On Wednesday, April 11 (1750), was fought the grand boxing match between the celebrated Broughton, hitherto invincible, and John Slack, the Norfolk butcher. Before the battle began Broughton gave Slack ten guineas to fight him, according to a previous promise, which Slack immediately betted against one hundred guineas offered as odds against him. The first two minutes the odds were ten to one in favour of Broughton; but Slack, recovering himself, struck a blow which blinded his adversary, and following up his advantage, obtained a complete victory in fourteen minutes, to the great mortification of the knowing ones, including a peer of the first rank, who, betting ten to one, lost £10,000. The money received at the doors was £130, besides 200 tickets at a guinea and a half each; and as the battle was for the whole house, it is supposed the victor cleared £600.”
We have already said that the downfal of Broughton was the downfal of public pugilism in the metropolis; whatever there was of good in the art to a great extent perishing at the caprice of a prince and the power of a few aristocrats. If these are necessary concomitants to its existence, it would not have been worth preserving, but it has survived the frowns of power, and had a better support in the favour of the people. If Broughton’s theatre was closed, the ars pugnandi dwelt in the provinces, and we find our hero engaged in 1751 at Harlston, in Norfolk, with a gigantic Frenchman, whose name, Petit or Pettit, almost savours of a jest. Pettit appears to have been an exhibitor in a circus as a “strong man,” and was noted for immense muscular powers. Of his boxing capabilities, like those of the Gondolier, we cannot form a high estimate. The following letter appeared in the papers of the time:—
“Yesterday, in the afternoon, Slack and Pettit met and fought. At the first set-to Pettit seized Slack by the throat, held him up against the rails, and grained[22] him so much as to make him extremely black. This continued for half a minute, before Slack could break from Pettit’s hold; after which, for near ten minutes, Pettit kept fighting and driving hard at Slack, when at length Slack closed with his antagonist, and gave him a severe fall, after that a second and a third, but between these falls, Pettit threw Slack twice off the stage; indeed Pettit so much dreaded Slack’s falls, that he ran directly at his hams, and tumbled him down,[23] and by that means gave Slack an opportunity of making the falls easy. When they had been fighting 18 minutes the odds run against Slack, a guinea to a shilling; whereas, on first setting out, it was three or four to one on his head; but after this time Slack shortened Pettit so as to disable him from running and throwing him down in the manner he had done before, but obliged him to stand to close fighting. Slack then closed one of his eyes, and beat him very much about the face; at twenty minutes Pettit grew weaker and Slack stronger. This was occasioned by Slack’s straight way of fighting. At twenty-two minutes the best judges allowed Slack to have the advantage over Pettit very considerably, as he was then recovering his wind, owing to his game qualities. When they had boxed twenty-four minutes, Pettit once more threw Slack over the rails. This indeed Slack allowed him to do, for as he got his hold, Slack fired a blow under Pettit’s ribs that hurt severely. While Slack was again getting upon the stage (it was not half a minute before he remounted), Pettit had so much the fear of his antagonist before his eyes, that he walked off without so much as civilly taking leave of the spectators. The cockers call this rogueing it, for it is generally thought that Pettit ran away full strong. The whole time of their fighting was twenty-five minutes, and this morning the battle was judged to Slack, who drew the first ten guineas out of the box.”
From the last sentence it would seem that there was a subscribed fund, and principal and secondary prizes for the winners.
We read in “Pancratia,” that “the name of Slack was, and not unjustly, a terror to fightable rustics.” “At a country fair a ‘native,’ depending on his natural prowess, gave Slack a blow in the face. We may presume it was returned, and ‘a ring’ being called, a sharp set-to began. It is said the countryman had the advantage, until Slack exclaimed with fervour, ‘What! shall it be said a ploughman beat Jack Slack?’ The very name appalled the countryman, who, imagining his antagonist had been playing with him, said, ‘Have I been fightin’ wi’ Slack? I’ll ha’ no more on’t.’ And he was as good as his word, donning his clothes and leaving the field to the veteran professional.”
The next recorded battle of Slack was for 100 guineas with Cornelius Harris, a collier of Kingswood, near Bristol. It took place on the 13th of March, 1755. The skill and tactics of Slack were severely tried, Harris fighting desperately in Slack’s own early style for twenty minutes, when he gave in.
On October 20th, 1759, Slack is again recorded as victor in a fight for £50 aside with one Moreton, who had issued a challenge to the champion. It came off at Acton Wells. Moreton proved himself a courageous, if not a good boxer; but at the end of thirty-five minutes he acknowledged his mistake.
Ten years had now elapsed since Slack had vanquished the renowned Broughton, and held the title of champion—but the honour was dazzling, and another hero put in his claim for the towering prize. Slack’s fame was well established; and here royalty once more appeared on the pugilistic scene; for Broughton’s old patron, the Duke of Cumberland, stepped forward and backed Slack for £100 against Bill Stevens, the Nailer, whom the Duke of York took under his patronage. The Haymarket was the scene of action, and a stage was erected in the Tennis Court, James Street, on the day of the 17th of June, 1760. Slack entered the field with all the confidence of a veteran, and was acknowledged to have the advantage in the first part of the battle; but the Nailer, with an arm like iron, received the ponderous blows of his antagonist on his left with ease, while with his right arm he so punished the champion’s nob, that he knocked off the title, picked it up, and wore it. Thus fell the hitherto invincible Slack.
This second great mistake of William of Cumberland seems to have disgusted him with the ring, and we hear no more of him. The Duke of York here spoken of was one of the uncles of George III., whose father, Frederick, Prince of Wales, died in George II.’s lifetime.
Slack now quitted the pugilistic profession, and returned to his old trade, opening a butcher’s shop in Chandos Street, Covent Garden. Here he carried on a good business, but still mixed himself in fistic matters. He backed and trained George Meggs, of whom more anon, to fight Bill Stevens, his conqueror, for the championship and 200 guineas. The fight came off on the 2nd of March, 1761, at the Tennis Court, St. James’ Street. The reporter says, “At the first onset Stevens missed his blow, and Meggs struck him that instant on the side of the head and knocked him down. This error seems to have lost him the battle. After this the battle lasted seventeen minutes, with scarcely a blow struck, when Stevens gave in.” We regret to say that this disgraceful affair was clearly traced to Slack, who gave Stevens 50 guineas and his stake. “Pancratia” says: “An old supporter of Stevens, meeting him one day, expressed his surprise at this defeat, when Bill drily answered him, ‘Why, Lord bless you, the day I fought Jack Slack I got 90 guineas; but I got 50 guineas more than I should otherwise have done by letting Georgy beat me; and, damme, ain’t I the same man still?’” The Nailer and Slack both fell into disrepute; but the latter stuck to his business, and appears to have prospered until his death in 1778.
BILL STEVENS THE NAILER (CHAMPION)—1760.
This tremendous boxer, whose courage found no counterpart in his honesty, will aptly come in here. It would be tedious, could they even be dug up, to give an outline of his many battles before his crowning victory over Slack, with the exception of one, that with Jacob Taplin, the coal-eaver.
The winter of 1760 was rendered memorable in the annals of pugilism by a desperately contested battle, “fought in the month of February between William Stevens the Nailer and Jacob Taplin. The site fixed on for deciding the boxing match was the hollow known as Marylebone Basin, which held about 3,000 spectators. A ring was formed in its centre, and the champions commenced the combat. Taplin in the first rounds seemed to have much the best of the Nailer, who received some tremendous blows in the ‘bread-basket,’ which had several times knocked him down. The last time Stevens seemed to rise with the fury of a lion roused from slowness and placidity into excessive irritation. He faced his antagonist and let fly, levelling him at his feet. The odds, which had been in favour of Taplin, now became four to one on Stevens. In the next round he repeated his knock-down by a tremendous blow below the left breast. When Taplin rose next time, he closed on him suddenly and both fell. The next round decided the battle in favour of Stevens, who struck Taplin on the left eye with his left hand, while with the other he followed it by a blow on the temple, which laid him senseless. Taplin not being prepared in time to resume the contest, Stevens was declared the victor.”—Daily Advertiser, Feb. 20, 1760.
And now the fame of Stevens running abroad he received the highest patronage, and was matched for 100 guineas aside against the veteran champion Slack. The result has been already told. He disabled Slack’s guard by repeated and heavy blows on his left forearm, and followed them by a right hand lunge at the head, accompanied by a trip at his left foot, which disturbed the champion’s balance. In the words of the report, “he with his right hand beat him about the head, while at the same time tripping him off his centre with his foot.” The champion’s title fell to Stevens, but he did not long wear it, through his own misconduct. The battle, or rather sham fight at the Tennis Court with George Meggs, the collier, has been already noticed. Stevens, after seventeen minutes of trickery, scarcely knowing how to make a fight of it, gave in.[24]
Stevens’ later fights were few. His backers had, of course, deserted him. On July 4, 1769, we find as follows: “William Stevens, the Nailer, who dexterously played the cross with George Meggs, fought a battle with M’Guire, an Irish pugilist, on the green stage at the back of Montague House. M’Guire was beaten.”
Stevens was also defeated by one Turner, but the date and circumstances are not recorded. We learn this fact from the account of Turner’s victory over Peter Corcoran, the Irish champion (Sept. 24, 1769).
Stevens’ career closed in defeat and disgrace. Eighteen years after his victory over Slack, he entered the ring with the rising Harry Sellers (see Sellers, post). Stevens added another illustration to the ring proverb—“Youth will be served.” Had Stevens kept the straight course, he might have emulated Taylor, Broughton, and Slack. The date of his death is uncertain.
THOMAS SMALLWOOD—1741–1757.
Among the luminaries of George Taylor’s Great Booth, and subsequently of Broughton’s Amphitheatre, Tom Smallwood, though never opposed to the very foremost men of his time, was a ready and resolute boxer of no small pretensions. Captain Godfrey has enshrined him in his curious pages, so that entire omission of him would be inexcusable in these sketches of the early heroes of the ring. “Had he but possessed weight (whence we may infer he was what we should now call a ‘middle weight,’ say 11 stone), he was capable of standing against any man.” It must be remembered that “rushing,” and “hammering,” and “driving against the rails,” seem to have been much in vogue in the stage encounters of the period; and the preposterous weight of thirteen stone and a half and fourteen stone was thought advantageous for a man of five feet eight or nine inches! Smallwood’s battles were numerous and creditable, whether in defeat or success. His first battle recorded in the “Diurnals” was with one Dimmocks, a powerful carman, at Taylor’s Booth, in May, 1741, the month after Broughton had defeated Stevenson, the coachman. It was a desperate affair, and well contested by Smallwood, then a youth. After three-quarters of an hour of severe fighting, Smallwood was beaten by the superior strength of his opponent.
In the following November Tom Smallwood again entered the lists with Richard Harris, a brick-maker, for 50 guineas. It is described as “one of the severest boxing matches that had taken place for many years,” and “contested with alternate successes, with the greatest hardihood and intrepidity, for one hour, when victory decided in favour of Smallwood.” Broughton expressed a high opinion of the courage and skill of Smallwood. The day was also noted for the first appearance of “Buckhorse” (John Smith) upon this stage, who fought “a draw” with Harry Gray, the clogmaker. See Buckhorse, post.
In the notice of George Taylor will be found a couple of specimens of his booth advertisements. They contain the names of Tom Smallwood and Will Willis (the Fighting Quaker). On this occasion (April 28, 1742) our hero despised Willis, who derived his nickname from a remarkably plain and formal appearance, and a sedateness of manner not common among “knights of the fives,” with whom fun and flash appear to have been ever prevalent. At this point, after an imaginary account of Smallwood’s victory, stuffed with the slang of the first quarter of the present century, and bald attempts at facetiousness, the “Historian” adds, “Tom Smallwood fought several other battles, in all of which he proved victorious; but the combatants were not of sufficient importance to claim mention.”—Boxiana, vol. i., p. 33. He then proceeds, p. 67, to give a memoir of Edward Hunt, on whom he lavishes just praises, and records his defeat by Smallwood, as one out of the many specimens of method with which his hash is concocted.
Smallwood, after the closing of Taylor’s Booth in 1744, does not appear to have belonged to Broughton’s company, for we find him fighting one King, a butcher, at Stanton Green, who beat him, in January, 1746. The particulars of this battle are not recorded, but King is said to have also “fought several good battles at the Booth.” There is something obscure about this battle, as Captain Godfrey, writing in 1747, a constant visitor at Broughton’s, and au courant with every man in the fistic world, says, “If I was to choose a boxer for my money, and could but purchase him strength equal to his resolution, Smallwood should be the man.”
The most remarkable of Smallwood’s triumphs was his victory over Broughton’s favourite pupil and protegé, Edward Hunt, whose defeat of Hawksley, the Life-guardsman, had made him the talk of the town. The battle had been long talked of, and was fought on a stage at Hounslow, July 14, 1757. The stake was 150 guineas. For thirty minutes the combat was carried on with equal resolution, and without any leading advantage. “For the first 35 minutes the odds were alternately on each man. After this time, Tom, who was the heavier man, closed with Hunt more frequently, and by superior strength followed it up with such advantage, that in 50 minutes the battle was decided in his favour.” Hunt is said to have weighed but nine stone. Smallwood was seconded by “Old George Taylor,” and Hunt by the champion, Jack Slack.
Smallwood, who had now been at least seventeen years before the public, seems to have retired a conqueror, as we have no further mention of his name.
EDWARD HUNT—1746–1758.
This favourite pupil of Broughton continually appears in his master’s advertisements. He was a boxer of first-rate science, as then practised, with unquestionable courage, extreme hardihood, and remarkable activity. Though barely five feet five inches, and weighing but nine stone, he often fought and defeated men of large stature, and vastly his superiors in weight. “Being constantly overmatched, he had more difficulties to encounter than any other boxer on the list, and of the few instances of ‘shifting’ which occurred in his time, he is the most singular, for he conquered the stoutest men by his admirable art. With strength so much beyond his own opposed to him he might have been allowed to drop, but he seldom fell without a blow. He never confined himself to one attitude, for, being extremely active, he found he could more effectually confuse his antagonist by continually changing his guard. He endeavoured to avoid blows aimed at his body by stepping aside, and then took an opportunity of dexterously ‘winding’ his man, who was driven forward by his own force. If a blow was aimed at his head, he stooped to let his adversary’s arm pass over him, and then succeeded in general in planting a good body blow. These manœuvres proved highly advantageous to Hunt in his pugilistic career, for his opponents became aware of these practices, and accordingly fought on the defensive, by which means he became the assailant, and avoided being overwhelmed by their superior power.” This is the description of a consummate boxer by a master hand; quoted in “Pancratia,” pp. 50, 51. “What a picture of a combination of the styles of Young Dutch Sam and Bendigo! With this before you read Pierce Egan’s stuff about Hunt’s not “fearing the disparagement (sic) between him and his lofty opponent,” and “stood up to Hawksley prime as a game cock,” etc. The contemporary account of Hunt’s battle with Hawksley is brief:—
“On June 11th (1746) a very severe battle was contested at the Amphitheatre between Edward Hunt, a pupil of Mr. Broughton’s, weighing only nine stone,[25] and one Hawksley a Life-guardsman, who weighed seventeen stone. The odds before fighting were ten to one in favour of Hawksley. The battle lasted only ten minutes, during which the odds changed in favour of Hunt, who was declared the victor.” This affair is most unaccountable; shifting, and the “planting” of a nine stone man, could hardly have beaten Hawksley in ten minutes, unless he was out of condition, drunk, or a coward.
His next great battle was with Smallwood (1757), already narrated; and his last recorded appearance was with Richard Mills, a game boxer, known by the name of “the Onion Boy,” May 17, 1758, at Islington. After an hour’s severe fighting, Hunt, upon whom large odds were betted, was compelled to surrender.
BUCKHORSE (JOHN SMITH)—1732–1746.
There was one pugilist of this period, whose name we rather introduce as a remarkable lusus naturæ than as an illustrator of the noble art. This individual was John Smith, more commonly known as Buckhorse. The following particulars are chiefly derived from a memoir which appeared in the “Eccentric Magazine.”