“Mr. James Soares, on the part of Thomas Cribb, puts down £10; and Mr. J. E., on the part of William Neate, also puts down £10; to fight for £200 a-side, between Bath and London, on Wednesday, the 9th of May, 1821. To be a fair stand-up fight; half a minute time; in a twenty-four feet ring. The above £20 are placed in the hands of Mr. Belcher. The whole of the stakes are to be deposited in the hands of Mr. Belcher, and who is appointed to name the place of fighting. The sum of £100 a-side to be made good, at the said Mr. Belcher’s, the Castle Tavern, Holborn, on the 24th of January, 1821. An umpire to be chosen by each party, and Mr. Jackson to name referee. The whole of the money to be made good, £200 a-side, on the 9th of April, 1821, at Mr. Cribb’s, the Union Arms, corner of Panton and Oxendon Streets, Haymarket, between the hours of seven and ten o’clock in the evening. In case of either party not making the £100 good, the above deposit, £20, to be forfeited.
A screw, it seems, had been loose between Neate and the Champion of England for some time past, which was now to be decided by the fist. Several wagers were immediately offered that the stakes were not made good; more especially as Neate was to be consulted upon the subject. It was, however, well known that Neate a short time ago offered to fight Cribb for £200 a-side. The Champion was much too heavy, but the good effects of training, it was thought, would put that all to rights. The sporting world were all upon the alert, to see the ‘ould one’ once more take the field. The Champion’s last memorable contest was with Molineaux, on September 28, 1811; nearly ten years having elapsed without receiving a challenge; Cribb ought not to fight—it was giving a chance away—so said the knowing ones.
At ten o’clock on the night mentioned (24th January), the articles were called for and read; and the backer of Cribb (the President of the Daffy Club), said his £100 was ready, but no person appearing on the part of Neate, the deposit money, £10 a-side, was given up to the Champion. The chairman then gave the health of Cribb. The Champion in returning thanks for the honour he had received, said he “was much more capable—nay, he would sooner fight than make a speech.”
The chairman, in an appropriate speech, thought the sporting world ought not to permit the Champion to accept any more challenges. It was upwards of nine years and a half since he had entered the ring. He was growing old, had young kids to provide for, and the gout now and then paid him a visit. He had beaten all his opponents in the highest style of courage, but it could not be expected that he could “get the best” of the infirmities of human nature. Yet the Champion was too game to say “No” to any challenge. He thought Cribb ought to retain his championship till he was floored by Old Time.[142]
Several first-rate amateurs, in short but pithy speeches, addressed the meeting on the subject, and all of them concurred in the opinion of the chairman: but, as to fighting, in future the Champion must “tie it up.”
On the day of the Coronation, July 19, 1821, his Majesty, in passing down the Hall, during the procession to the Abbey, cast a pleasing glance upon the person of Mr. Jackson, by way of recognition, which convinced the Commander-in-Chief of the P.R., that he still lived in the memory of his beloved sovereign and once great patron. Tom Cribb and Tom Spring were also habited as pages, guarding the entrance of Westminster Hall. The manly appearance of the two “big ones” attracted the notice of most of the great folks who were present at the gorgeous ceremony.
The following letters of thanks were individually received by those pugilists who assisted to keep the peace, and protect the persons of the visitors at the Coronation:—
“My Lord,—I am commanded by His Majesty, to express to your Lordship His Majesty’s high approbation of the arrangements made by your Lordship in the department of the Great Chamberlain of England, for the august ceremony of His Majesty’s coronation, and of the correctness and regularity with which they were carried into effect.
“To the exemplary manner in which these duties were performed by your Lordship, and by those officers who acted under your Lordship’s authority, His Majesty is graciously pleased to consider that the order and dignity, which so peculiarly distinguished the ceremony, are in a great degree to be ascribed; and I have to request that your Lordship will communicate to the persons referred to the sense which His Majesty has condescended to express of their services.
Sir,—Having received His Majesty’s commands, through the Secretary of State for the Home Department, to communicate to you, sir, His Majesty’s gracious approbation of the manner in which you discharged your duty on the 19th of July, I know no way so effectual of executing these most gratifying instructions, as by inclosing you a copy of the original document. Permit me at the same time to add, how sensible I am of your attention to the very imperfect directions I was enabled to furnish you with, and that the arrangements, which have been with so much condescension noticed by your King, are in a great degree to be attributed to the loyalty, judgment, and temper, exhibited by you at His Majesty’s coronation.
Lord Gwydyr, presented one of the gold coronation medals, which he had received from the hands of his Majesty King George the Fourth, to the boxers who gave their assistance at Westminster Hall. His lordship also provided a most excellent dinner for all the pugilists, at Tom Cribb’s, upon the occasion. After the cloth was removed, and the health of the king drank with four times four; the gold medal was raffled for, by the whole of the boxers, when Tom Belcher proved the lucky man, and held the trophy until his death.
We now come to our hero’s formal retirement; an event which excited considerable interest throughout the circles of the fancy. On Saturday, May 18, 1822, the Champion of England made his bow to the amateurs, at the Fives Court. Tom had to boast of a Corinthian attendance, and St. Martin’s Street was filled with carriages. The sets-to were generally good. The champion of England and Spring ascended the stage, amidst loud approbation. Cribb was decorated with the belt. It was an excellent combat; and, although Tom had a touch of the gout, he displayed great activity. But the awful moment had now arrived for poor Tom to say, farewell! He scratched his nob—looked about him—his heart full of gratitude—at a loss what to say—and his tongue almost forsook its office. After a struggle to give vent to his feelings, he at length delivered himself of the following words:—“Gentlemen, I return you thanks for your kindness this day. (A short pause.) Indeed, gentlemen, I sincerely thank you for all the favours you have conferred on me—I do indeed. (A long pause, as if Tom had stuck fast.) Gentlemen, may your health and purses never fail you.” Cribb now retired, amid long and loud plaudits, accompanied with, “It will be a long time before we shall look upon your like again in the prize ring.”
Spring now mounted the stage, and thus addressed the spectators:—“Gentlemen, I once more present myself to your notice; but as my old dad has retired from the stage and the prize ring altogether, and as I have stood next to him for some time past, I mean now to stand in his place, till I am beat out of it!” An amateur and Spring went up to Tom Belcher, and informed him that Spring was ready to fight Neate for £300. “Very well,” replied the hero of the Castle; “now I know what you mean, we will talk about it. I shall name it to Neate.” The result of this challenge will be fully recorded in the Life of Tom Spring, opening the next period.
From this time Tom led the life of a retired veteran, but his house was the rendezvous of sporting men. Cribb, however, occasionally figured in the public prints, for then, as now, noisy, troublesome, and drunken fellows annoyed licensed victuallers in their business. The Morning Herald thus reports a “Morning at Bow Street.”
“Cribb and his Customer.—The Champion brought a little shrivelled tailor before Sir Robert Baker, on Tuesday, December 12, 1820, at Bow Street, and charged the ninth part of a man with calling him, the said Champion, ‘a great big fighting cove;’ with exclaiming, ‘Oh, that I was but big enough to whop you!’ and with frequenting his house, the Union Arms Tavern, Panton Street, for the purpose of abusing him and annoying his company. In reply to this, the little remnant of shreds and patches looked up in the champion’s face, and humbly begged his pardon, promising most solemnly, before his worship, never to offend in the like manner again. Cribb’s placability is well known; he, who has so often stood unshaken before the stoutest hearts in the ring, could not stand this pathetic appeal from a forlorn little tailor, and, relaxing his features into a smile, he confessed himself appeased, but trusted Master Snip would get rid of his bad habits in future, and never more measure his way to the Union Arms: or else if he did, Cribb said he would cut his cloth in a way that he would not like. The hero of the needle was in consequence discharged. The magistrate observed that he had heard the various houses kept by the champion to have always been conducted with the utmost propriety. Cribb moved his castor and retired.”
Here is another of Tom’s magisterial interviews.
“The Three Tailors.—Three natty tailors were charged, at Marlborough Street Police Office, in September, 1826, with creating a disturbance, and assaulting Thomas Cribb, the ex-champion of England. The defendants went into Cribb’s house, where they partook of some liquor. After a few minutes they commenced a disturbance, and he requested them to be quiet; but they swore at him, and challenged him to fight. One of them being pot-valiant, struck him. The example was followed by the others, who insisted on his having a turn with them. A person said, “No, Cribb, don’t strike the three tailors, who are only the third part of a man!” The astonished tailors, on hearing his name mentioned, took up their clothes and ran quickly out of the house; but Cribb, determining to teach them better, pursued and lodged them in the hands of the watchman. Sir George Farrant: ‘Did they beat you?’ Cribb, smiling: ‘No, their blows were something like themselves—of little importance.’ Sir George Farrant: ‘Did you return the blow?’ Cribb: ‘No, sir, I was afraid of hurting ’em; I should not like to do that.’ The tailors in their defence, said they were sorry for what had occurred; at the same time, they were not aware that the person whom they had challenged to fight was the Champion: on finding their mistake they instantly left his house. Sir George Farrant: ‘Aye, you thought you had better try the lightness of your heels than the weight of his fists.’ Cribb declined making any charge against them, and they were discharged on paying their fees.”
“Cribb and the Cobbler.—In the same month the ex-champion again made his bow before the beak; but, on this occasion, Bow Street was honoured with his portly presence, where he charged a cobbler with causing a disturbance in his house. Cribb said that the prisoner was, about two years ago, very annoying, and he ordered him never to enter his house again. A few days ago he renewed his visit; and on Wednesday night he was most riotous and abusive. He (Cribb) did not care much for his abuse; but he could not contain himself when the cobbler had the impudence to begin abusing the king: he seized him under the arms, and dropped him gently in the street. The magistrate told Cribb that he had on this, as on all other occasions, evinced great forbearance, and directed the warrant to stand over; and, if the prisoner annoyed him again, he would be committed to prison.”
Cribb’s declining years, however, were disturbed by domestic troubles and severe pecuniary losses; and after a long struggle against adverse circumstances, produced by lending money and becoming responsible for a relative, he was forced to give up the Union Arms to his creditors. His last appearance was on November 12, 1840, when under the auspices of the Pugilistic Association, he took a benefit at the National Baths, Westminster Road. At this time, and for some years previously, Cribb had resided at the house of his son, a baker, in the High Street, Woolwich, where he died on the 11th of May, 1848, aged 67.
The editor of Bell’s Life (Vincent G. Dowling, Esq.), and some friends and admirers of the champion, having resolved to erect a monument to his memory, the matter was thus spoken of in the columns of the leading sporting paper of England, in the beginning of 1851.
“Among the interesting incidents connected with the approaching season of the Great Exhibition, we have much pleasure in announcing the completion of the long promised monument to the memory of Tom Cribb, one of the most justly esteemed champions of the pugilistic school of England. As a professor of his art he was matchless, and as a demonstrator of fair play, in principle and in practice, he was never excelled. He had still a higher virtue, displayed in sustaining throughout his gallant career, independent of indomitable courage—a reputation for unimpeachable integrity and unquestionable humanity. His hand was ever open to the distresses of his fellow-creatures, and whether they befell friend or foe, he promptly, by relieving them, exhibited the influence of the charitable and kindly impulses of a truly benevolent heart—an example well worthy of imitation, and justly entitling him to the present distinction, which, while it cherishes his memory, will show to others of his class, who follow in his steps, that their good deeds will live beyond the grave.
“It will be remembered that poor Cribb, after enjoying the sunshine of good fortune for a series of years, respected by all classes, from the prince to the peasant, o’erstepped the bounds of prudence and self-consideration, fell into distress, and retired to the house of his son, at Woolwich, where after a lingering illness, he died on the 11th May, 1848. Happily, through the sympathy of those who felt as we felt, his last moments were soothed by the enjoyment of every comfort, and he departed in peace, deeply grateful to those whose kindness he had experienced. The last sad duty of consigning his remains to their final resting place was performed in Woolwich churchyard, his ashes mingling with those of naval and military heroes honourably distinguished in their respective vocations. We took care that every expense connected with his illness and death was defrayed, but we still felt that such a man should not depart from among us without some lasting token of the estimation in which the noble qualities by which he had been distinguished were held, and therefore suggested the erection of a monument to his memory—such a monument as would honour and preserve it. This suggestion received a ready response. Our work is now nearly accomplished, and we would fain hope it will be found to fulfil our desire, that of showing to our expected foreign visitors, as well as to our countrymen, that, however humble our heroes, where valour is accompanied by sterling honesty and humanity, we have pride in commemorating their deeds and their virtues....
CRIBB’S MONUMENT IN WOOLWICH CHURCHYARD.
“The grave over which this monument is to be erected has long since been bricked and covered with a suitable slab. Upon this will be placed a plinth, also of solid Portland stone, about two feet in height, to receive the statue. On the edge of the plinth will be engraved this impressive sentence, ‘Respect the ashes of the brave.’ The grave being on an elevated bank close to the path leading to the church from the town of Woolwich, the whole will command the attention of all persons entering the burial ground from London, or passing along that thoroughfare immediately in front, which at all hours of the day is thronged with soldiers, sailors, dockyard men, and civilians.
“We hardly doubt that this monument, from the moral it is calculated to enforce, will be without its beneficial effects on the minds of all those by whom it is seen, and we trust it may be gratifying to those strangers who on their visits to the Arsenal will have an opportunity of witnessing the veneration in which Englishmen hold the memory of those who, although not ‘licensed’ warriors, are yet honest types of our national principles and character.”
On the eve of the first of May, 1854, the monument, of which we here give an engraving, was placed in the position it now occupies in Woolwich Churchyard, and its first view by the public was coincident with the first opening of the first Great Exhibition in Hyde Park. We again quote Bell’s Life:—“Far be it from us to connect this simple occurrence further than in point of time with the Exhibition in question; but the coincidence is fortunate, and the object creditable to those by whom it has been carried out—that object being to testify the respect entertained for the memory of a man who, in his position, entitled himself to universal respect for his unimpeachable honesty, indomitable courage, and unquestionable humanity. Exception may be taken to the sphere in which those qualities were exhibited, but those acquainted with English feeling, English character, and English habits must hold in estimation the memory of a man who, in his own person and by his own acts, impressed on thousands, we might say millions, those principles of fair play, combined with gallant bearing, which have been the distinguishing features of our countrymen, soldiers, sailors, or civilians, in whatever circumstances placed. From these feelings sprung a desire to erect the present monument, for the double purpose of perpetuating the memory of the most distinguished of his class, and of impressing on those who followed in his footsteps the sense entertained of the virtues he so prominently displayed. A subscription was commenced, at the head of which were the names of noblemen and gentlemen of the highest rank, swollen by more humble contributors. The work has been accomplished, thanks to the unceasing assiduity and generous devotion of Mr. Timothy Butler, the sculptor, who has performed his task in a manner that must increase his reputation, and entitle him to a distinguished position in the profession of which he is so bright an ornament. The design is simple yet grand in its conception. It represents a British lion grieving over the ashes of a British hero; for, putting aside all prejudice, Cribb was a hero of whom his country might well be proud. The drawing affords a correct idea of the monument, but falls short of the effect of the original; for we do not believe there is in existence a more beautiful specimen of animal sculpture, whether we regard the exquisite proportions of the figure, or the deep impression of sorrow expressed on the countenance. The paw of the lion, it will be seen, rests on an urn supposed to contain the ashes of the dead, over which is lightly thrown the belt which was presented to Cribb as ‘the Champion of England.’ For obvious reasons—principally the close proximity to the House of Peace—all allusion to the circumstances which have led to this distinction is avoided, and the inscription is simply this:—‘Sacred to the Memory of Thomas Cribb, born July 8, 1781, died May 11, 1848.’ On the plinth beneath are the words—‘Respect the ashes of the brave’—an inscription which, it is hoped, will prevent those encroachments in which idle visitors to a churchyard but too often indulge. The lion, of colossal size, stands on a rock, and the whole was sculptured from a solid block of Portland stone weighing twenty tons, from which some idea may be formed of the labour and perseverance with which such a chef d’œuvre has been accomplished and removed without accident from the studio of the artist in Middlesex Place, New Road, to its present position. The monument stands on a plinth which elevates it among surrounding tombs, rendering it visible even from the river Thames; while from the footpath, in front of the churchyard, it invites immediate attention as well as admiration—a sentiment which has been unequivocally expressed by thousands.
“It is fit we should state that there are some fastidious persons in Woolwich, the town in which poor Cribb breathed his last, who find fault with the erection of such a monument in such a place. It is due to the rector of Woolwich, to state, that although he may in some respects participate in the feelings of the parishioners, his objections were removed by the statement of the fact, that before the monument was commenced, the drawing of the design was submitted to his predecessor, by whom it was so heartily approved that he regretted it could not be surrounded by an iron railing, to protect it from trespassers, who are but too apt to treat with indifference the most exquisite specimens of art.[143] There were, however, some words in the inscription to which the rector did object, and which at his request have been omitted. Respect for this gentleman’s impressions has induced us to omit the following not inappropriate epitaph:—
Thomas Molineaux, the hardy, determined and dangerous opponent of Cribb, under whose memoir we have already given the details of the two championship contests, next deserves a niche in the temple of fistic fame. Unnoticed, unheralded, unfriended, and unknown, this sable gladiator made his way to London. His skill and strength had been tried in several combats in his native country, Virginia. Confident in his own capabilities, no sooner did he arrive in the world’s metropolis, than, proceeding to the best known sporting houses, he offered himself as a candidate for pugilistic honours. He was not long before he attracted the notice of the patrons of those gymnastic sports, which, from their practice and support, instil the principles of endurance and courage into the hardy sons of England, and have not only given greatness but added stability to the national character.
Molineaux deserves credit for his bold challenge of the highest prize of pugilism; his merits were certainly of no mean order, and his defeat adds to the honours of the conqueror of such a formidable antagonist.
THOMAS MOLINEAUX.
From a Drawing by George Sharples.
Molineaux’s trial set-to was with an anonymous Bristol man, on Tuesday, July 14th, 1810. The papers inform us, “the newly come American black is a formidable fellow; in height five feet nine inches, his weight between thirteen and fourteen stone, his age twenty-six years. He was introduced under the auspices of his coloured countryman, Bill Richmond, who seconded him. Tom Cribb, waiting upon the Bristol man, who was a robust but rather clumsy fellow of six feet in height, weight not stated. The scene of action was Tothill Fields. The Bristol boxer was strong and game; but, beyond these qualities he was a poor specimen of the west country school. The black kept himself close, but seemed to have little idea of delivering at distance. He merely ‘flipped’ or hit at half-arm, and when he struck kept his elbows close to his body. His style of in-fighting, however, was peculiar, and he caught his big antagonist so heavily and frequently in the body as to knock the wind out of him, and then began to practise upon his head so dexterously that at the end of an hour of desperate up-hill fighting the Bristol man was compelled to give in, scarcely a feature in his face being distinguishable. The two seconds, Cribb and Richmond, had a quarrel concerning an alleged foul blow, and had a short sharp turn-up by way of a second course. There was but one round, but that quite satisfied Richmond, who is too good a judge to take a thrashing ‘for love,’ which he might soon have had. Although not the most expert boxer that ever offered himself for pugilistic fame, Molineaux was considered a promising ‘Chicken,’ and was immediately matched for 100 guineas with Tom Blake, better known by the title of Tom Tough, who was at this time forty years of age, and whose battles are related in the Appendix, ante, p. 236.
“Tuesday, August 21, 1810, was the day fixed, and the spot where Richmond and Maddox last contended agreed upon, on the coast about four miles from Margate, and two from Reculvers. At an early hour every vehicle was in motion to gain the goal of sport, and at one o’clock Blake came in dashing style, seated in an honourable baronet’s barouche, with his seconds, Tom Cribb and Bill Gibbons. A ring was formed, and at half past one Molineaux was modestly introduced by his humble, but perhaps more firm, supporter Richmond. After the usual ceremony the combatants set-to.”
Round 1.—There was considerable curiosity among the “swell” division to see the new specimen in ebony, on whose merits Massa Richmond was so eloquent to all visitors to the Horse and Dolphin. There was some cautious sparring for about a minute, in which Molineaux showed he had taken lessons and improved by them. Soon, however, Blake[144] seized an opening, put in two smart hits right and left, and stopped Molineaux’s return. The men closed and fought at half-arm. Blake slipped from Molineaux, but while in the act received a tremendous chopping blow on the back of his neck, which Molineaux repeated with his right hand over the head, and brought him down. (Betting even.)
2.—Blake again made play, but soon found that two or three hits, although well planted, were not sufficient to throw Molineaux off his legs. He received the hits with great sang froid, and at length beat down his opponent’s guard with his left hand, and with a degree of quickness and dexterity, which in Dutch Sam or Tom Belcher would have been considered an astonishing effort of science, brought Blake down by a most severe blow with the right. (Six to four on the Black.)
3.—Blake evinced great distress in his wind. Molineaux run in to take advantage, but was received with a chattering jaw hit. They rallied, and both fell, Molineaux uppermost.
4.—A hard round, and such a one as convinced the judges that Blake had trained off. Molineaux rendered his guard perfectly useless, as by strength of hitting he broke through it, and although Blake planted many good blows, they had not an equal effect to those of his opponent, as his face sufficiently exemplified. The round lasted two minutes, obstinate ruffianing fighting, and Blake, after putting in a good body hit, was knocked down. (Odds rose five to two in favour of Molineaux.)
5.—Blake bled copiously, but with great courage rushed to a rally, in which Molineaux got his left arm round his neck, and holding his head up, fibbed him so dreadfully that Blake fell exhausted.
6.—Molineaux now thought it time to beat his man off hand. He rushed in, chopped down his opponent’s guard with his left hand, and knocked him completely off his legs with his right, by a tremendous hit. (Any odds in favour of Molineaux.)
7.—Blake in this round rallied determinedly; he exchanged some good hits dexterously, but was too weak for this work, and fell.
8.—This was the last round. Molineaux began as furiously as in the sixth. Blake retreated, but was forced to rally, to extricate himself from the iron grasp of his adversary. He put in a successful hit on Molineaux’s cheek, but it was returned so forcibly on the head, that it laid him asleep for some time.
The time having expired, Blake was still insensible, and accordingly Molineaux was acknowledged the victor.
Remarks.—In this battle Molineaux evinced great improvement in the science of pugilism, particularly in the art of giving, while nature seemed to have endowed him abundantly with the gift of taking, his body being almost callous to fistic punishment. It was generally considered that should he be able to combine an equal degree of skill with his gluttony, he would mill the whole race of modern pugilists.
Encouraged by his friend and countryman Richmond, and patronised by some leading amateurs, the aspiring nigger now avowed his aim was no less than the championship. Molineaux, with the vanity so remarkably characteristic of his race, never ceased amusing his visitors and patrons with grotesque illustrations of how he would serve out “Massa Cribb,” for he possessed, mixed with a considerable amount of ferocity, the vis comica of the negro race. This could not go on long, and a match was made for 200 guineas, to come off December 18th, 1810. How this event was decided at Copthorne, near East Grinstead, Essex, may be read in the Life of Cribb, ante, p. 254.
Notwithstanding this defeat, Molineaux felt that he was entitled to another chance, and accordingly sent a challenge three days after the battle, which letter will be found in its proper place, at p. 255, under Cribb’s second victory.
About this time Bob Gregson, who was fond of match-making, had at his hostelrie a young Lancashire man of the name of Rimmer, twenty-two years of age, and considered by his countrymen a second Jem Belcher. His friends were anxious to get him on with Molineaux, now defeated, and issued a challenge for 100 guineas, which was directly answered on the part of Molineaux. The day was fixed for May 21, 1811, and accordingly at the well-trodden hurst of Moulsey, at one o’clock on the appointed day, Rimmer threw his hat into a twenty-five feet roped ring, pitched by the commissary-general Bill Gibbons, who, moreover, in company with Richmond, performed the duty of second to Molineaux. The like office to Rimmer was delegated to Power and Tom Jones. The betting on starting was three to one on Molineaux.
Round 1.—A couple of minutes were spent in sparring, in which neither man displayed much grace, though both looked formidable. Rimmer then let go both hands, but was short; he got away without a return. More sparring; at length Molineaux put in a left-handed blow on his adversary’s neck with great force; Rimmer returned, but slightly, and fell. (Four to one on Molineaux.)
2.—Rimmer again made play, and another effort to hit right and left, but the distance was again ill-judged, and he got away. Molineaux waited very patiently for him; they rallied, and Molineaux made some excellent stops. They broke away and got together again, when Molineaux brought down his opponent by two hits, right and left, of most astonishing force and quickness. (Odds four to one in favour of Molineaux.)
3.—Molineaux appeared much elated with his success, smiled significantly at his opponent, and sparred low, evidently to show he disregarded any effort he might attempt. He waited until Rimmer made play, when he hit him, and following him up, repeated his blows until Rimmer fell, but apparently from no other cause than to avoid a repetition of the tremendous hits he had received.
4.—Rimmer’s head was covered with blood, and he was, in fact, stupefied for a time, in consequence of a blow on the temple in the last round. Molineaux again put in two successful hits right and left, over his guard, on the head and neck, and Rimmer fell as if shot. Every one now sympathised with the dreadful situation of the novice, and odds rose to any amount in favour of Molineaux, but no takers.
5.—Rimmer evinced great alertness, made a long hit at double distance, and fell.
6.—Rimmer again hit short, and fell, evidently very weak.
7.—For the first time Rimmer had the best of fighting in this round; he put in a good blow with his left hand, and rallied with great courage, but fell at length over his opponent’s legs.
8.—Both hit over, and Rimmer fell.
9.—Rimmer exerted every effort to gain the superiority, rallied well, and threw Molineaux.
10.—Molineaux appeared almost ferocious, and went in determined to repay him for past favours. He followed Rimmer, milling him to every part of the ring, and at length floored him.
11.—Rimmer rallied, and showed pluck. Some good hits exchanged, but Rimmer hit widely, without judging distance, and gave his head doubled in his chest, which stopped several blows, and he at length came down.
12.—Rimmer made a body hit, which again fell short, and almost in a state of frenzy he ran in, caught Molineaux up by the thighs, and threw him in the Lancashire style. Many cried “Foul,” others “Fair,” but the fight went on.
13.—Rimmer struck Molineaux over the mouth, when the Black ran in and threw him.
14.—A rally. Rimmer closed, and a complete trial of strength ensued. Both fell, Rimmer bringing down his man by Lancashire ingenuity.
15.—Rimmer retreated round the ring, Molineaux following, and at length by a severe blow in the wind, brought him down, when he was indisputably “dead beat.”
At this time the ring was broken; peers, ploughmen, fighting men, chimney-sweepers, costermongers, were all in one tumultuous uproar, which continued for at least twenty minutes, without any reason being assignable. At length, however, by the exertions of Cribb and others, the ring was restored, and the combatants, who had neither left the ring, were again set-to. Six more rounds were fought, but greatly to the discomfiture of Rimmer, who could hardly stand. During this time he received about ten more tremendous blows and then gave in. Rimmer displayed great courage; he has an unfortunate knack of giving his head when he hits, and appears to be timid of advancing towards his adversary, by which errors many blows fall short.
Such is the contemporary report: the slang version may be found in “Boxiana,” vol. i., pp. 365, 366. Of the formidable powers of Molineaux at this time, of which some writers who recorded his later career have expressed themselves sceptical, this battle and that with Blake must be convincing proof. No pugilist from this time offered a challenge to Molineaux, nor could he get a battle on until Tom Cribb, who had publicly announced his retirement from the ring, was called upon to “prevent the championship of England from being held by a foreigner,” or as Pierce Egan oddly calls the American nigger ‘a Moor’. Poor Pierce’s geography was sadly confused, and the term “the Moor” occurs—perhaps from some jumbled reminiscences of Othello, in his stage readings—in a hundred places in his work as a favourite epithet for the States’ black whose ring career we are now tracing. Molineaux had now once again to enter the lists with the Champion, which he did on the 28th September, 1811, at Thistleton Gap, Leicestershire, where, after a desperate battle of less than twenty minutes, he fell before the conquering arm of Cribb. See p. 256, ante.
The losers who have, according to the proverb, “leave to grumble,” were loud, in speech and in the press, upon the depressing influences of prejudice, jealousy, envy, and “apprehension” lest “a black should win the championship.” Very natural is all this, and would be so again; but nothing unfair was ever substantiated. Pierce Egan thus sums up (vol. i., pp. 367–370), which we condense in quotation.
“It was this prejudice, a disheartening one to bear up against, that Molineaux, by never even approaching to unfairness, and by the exercise of a manly forbearance in critical situations, was called on to remove; he could not help seeing the applause and cheering were decidedly on the part of the Champion; in fact, the man of colour experienced from the bulk of the spectators a very different reception, occasioned by the extreme anxiety of the friends of Cribb for the safety of his honour and renown; for his sable opponent was truly formidable. These observations, nevertheless do not pluck a single leaf from his well-merited laurels; but impartiality must supersede every other consideration. It would be absurd to say that Molineaux underwent anything like a regular training; on the contrary, he indulged himself to excess—without a patron, he had to range from town to town, to support himself by exhibitions of sparring, and entering into all the glorious confusion of larks and sprees that might present themselves; while far different was the position of the Champion. Placed under the immediate direction of Captain Barclay, and secluded from the world at the estate of that gentleman in far Scotland, his condition was in the finest possible tone, his mind cheerful, and he felt confident that every chance was in favour of his success. Molineaux, in spite of his undoubted high courage, laboured under considerable depression; wherever he went he was unpopular; which circumstance was considerably heightened upon his public appearance to face his antagonist. His constitution, too, was by no means so good as in the former contest: but his efforts were tremendous and terrible, and for the first few rounds of the battle the flash side trembled for the result.”
Molineaux about this period entered upon a downward course: the facilis descensus was fully exemplified. He quarrelled with all his best friends, scorned advice, and declared himself on all occasions, especially when maddened with liquor, an ill-used man. A street fight with Power, in which Molineaux had the best for seventeen minutes’ roughing, is recorded in “Boxiana.” However his fame and name were a passport to money-getting, and he started on a provincial tour, to gather the silver of gaping rustics, who would pay willingly to see the man who fought the Champion twice.
Molineaux was also a pretty good wrestler, and displayed great activity and powers at the Exeter meeting of July 27, 1812, where he entered himself for the public prize of ten guineas, but received a dreadful fall from John Snow, of Moreton.
We find the following paragraph in the Leicester Mercury, of Feb. 3rd, 1813:
“Jay, the pugilist, has challenged Molineaux to fight at any notice he may please, but Blackee remains both deaf and dumb to this challenge, as he did to Cribb’s immediate acceptance of a vaunting challenge to him. The champion promises him a love-dressing for his bounce, if he could be prevailed on to come to London.”
To which Molineaux replied,—
“I, the said Molineaux, do declare that I never received any challenge, but through the medium of your print; but I am ready to fight Jay at any place within the county of Leicester, for a sum not exceeding £200, if accepted within one month of the above date. In opposition to that part of the paragraph which relates to Cribb, I do declare that I sent him a challenge within two months, but I have received no answer; my friends being mentioned in the challenge, who would back me to any amount; and that I have never received any challenge from Cribb since I last fought him.
“N.B. Letters left at the Post Office, Leicester, will be duly attended to.
We will now refer back to the all-important and absorbing event of our hero’s second contest with Cribb, from which eighteen months elapsed before Molineaux met with a competitor in Carter, a Lancashire man, though he repeatedly challenged all England. This match, however, went off for a time, owing to Richmond, his erewhile patron, “guide, philosopher, and friend,” issuing a writ against him and taking him to a sponging house upon a ca. sa. This is now a bit of antiquated law for which our fathers smarted, and for which the young “Templars” may refer to their “Reader,” while we congratulate our reader that John Roe and Richard Doe are defunct, and no more “seize the body until the debt is satisfied.”
Richmond was now at war to the knife with Molineaux, and made a match for Carter to fight his late protégé for 100 guineas, on Friday, the 2nd April, 1813, when the men met at Remington, Gloucestershire, six miles from Banbury, at the junction of four counties. That there was a doubt about the honesty of this fight, the subjoined extracts from contemporary papers will show:—“Previous to the battle, the articles were read over to the combatants, in which it was stated that the winner was to have a purse of 100 guineas—when Carter stepped up, inquiring what the ‘loser was to have!!!’ Richmond, who was his second, gnashed his teeth and shrugged up his shoulders; Bob Gregson, his friend and patron, tremblingly alive as to the event of the contest, and flattering himself that Lancashire would prove proudly triumphant on this occasion, animatedly exclaimed, ‘Jack, never talk of losing, boy—thee must win, the chance is all in thy favour!’”
As we have already said Richmond seconded Carter, with Cooper as his junior counsel; Joe Ward and Bill Gibbons held briefs for Molineaux. Six to four, and in some instances three to one, were betted on the black. We regret to say that the only report we can discover of this battle is that by Pierce Egan, which, with some necessary pruning of slang and corrections of ungrammatical phrases must serve, faute de mieux:—