Read Ebook: Pugilistica: The History of British Boxing Volume 1 (of 3) Containing Lives of the Most Celebrated Pugilists; Full Reports of Their Battles from Contemporary Newspapers With Authentic Portraits Personal Anecdotes and Sketches of the Principal Patrons of t by Miles Henry Downes

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"'If there be here whose dauntless courage dare In gauntlet-fight, with back and body bare, His opposite sustain in open view, Stand forth thou, champion, and the games renew: Two prizes I propose, and thus divide-- A bull with gilded horns and fillets tied, Shall be the portion of the conq'ring chief; A sword and helm shall cheer the loser's grief.' Then haughty Dares in the lists appears; Stalking he strides, his head erected bears; His nervous arms the weighty gauntlets wield And loud applauses echo through the field. Dares alone in combat sued to stand, The match of mighty Paris, hand to hand; The same at Hector's funerals undertook Gigantic Butes of the Amycian stock, And by the stroke of his resistless hand, Stretched his vast bulk along the yellow sand. Such Dares was, and such he strode along, And drew the wonder of the gazing throng. His brawny bulk and ample breast he shows, His lifted arms around his head he throws, And deals, in whistling air, his empty blows. His match is sought; but through the trembling band Not one dares answer to his proud demand. Presuming of his force, with sparkling eyes, Already he devours the promised prize. He claims the bull with lawless insolence, And, having seized his horns, addressed the prince: 'If none my matchless valour dares oppose, How long shall Dares wait his dastard foes? Permit me, chief, permit without delay, To lead this uncontested gift away.' The crowd assents, and, with redoubled cries, For the proud challenger demands the prize."

Acestes then reproaches Entellus for allowing the prize to be carried off uncontested. Entellus pleads "staleness" and "want of condition," but accepts the challenge.

"Acestes fired with just disdain to see A plain usurped without a victory, Reproached Entellus thus, who sate beside, And heard and saw, unmoved, the Trojan's pride. 'Once, but in vain, a champion of renown, So tamely can you bear the ravished crown, The prize in triumph borne before your sight, And shun for fear the danger of the fight. Where is your Eryx now, the boasted name, The god who taught your thundering arm the game? Where now your baffled honour? where the spoil That filled your house, and fame that filled our isle?' Entellus thus: 'My soul is still the same, Unmoved with fears, and moved with martial fame; But my chill blood is curdled in my veins, And scarce the shadow of a man remains. Oh! could I turn to that fair prime again, That prime of which this boaster is so vain, The brave, who this decrepit age defies, Should feel my force without the promised prize.'"

Entellus then throws down the gauntlets of Eryx , but Dares, declining the ponderous weapons, old Entellus offers to accommodate him, by permission of the umpires, with a round or two with a lighter pair.

"'But if the challenger these arms refuse, And cannot wield their weight, or dare not use; If great AEneas and Acestes join In his request, these gauntlets I resign: Let us with equal arms perform the fight, And let him learn to fear since I forego my right. This said, Entellus for the fight prepares, Stripped of his quilted coat, his body bares: Composed of mighty bones and brawn he stands, A goodly towering object on the sands. Then just AEneas equal arms supplied, Which round their shoulders to their wrists they tied. Both on the tiptoe stand, at full extent, Their arms aloft, their bodies inly bent; Their heads from aiming blows they bear afar, With clashing gauntlets then provoke the war. One on his youth and pliant limbs relies, One on his sinews and his giant size. This last is stiff with age, his motion slow; He heaves for breath, he staggers to and fro, And clouds of issuing smoke his nostrils loudly blow Yet equal in success, they ward, they strike, Their ways are different, but their art alike. Before, behind, the blows are dealt; around Their hollow sides the rattling thumps resound; A storm of strokes, well meant, with fury flies, And errs about their temples, ears, and eyes-- Nor always errs, for oft the gauntlet draws A sweeping stroke along the crackling jaws. Hoary with age Entellus stands his ground, But with his warping body wards the wound. His hand and watchful eye keep even pace, While Dares traverses and shifts his place, And, like a captain who beleaguers round Some strong-built castle on a rising ground, Views all the approaches with observing eyes; This and that other part in vain he tries, And more on industry than force relies. With hands on high Entellus threats the foe; But Dares watched the motion from below, And slipped a-side, and shunned the long-descending blow. Entellus wastes his forces on the wind, And, thus deluded of the stroke designed, Headlong and heavy fell, his ample breast And weighty limbs his ancient mother pressed. So falls a hollow pine that long had stood On Ida's height or Erymanthus' wood, Torn from the roots. The differing nations rise, And shouts, with mingled murmurs, rend the skies. Acestes runs with eager haste to raise The fallen companion of his youthful days. Dauntless he rose, and to the fight returned; With shame his glowing cheeks, his eyes with fury burned Disdain and conscious virtue filled his breast, And with redoubled force his foe he pressed. He lays on load with either hand amain And headlong drives the Trojan o'er the plain; Nor stops nor stays nor rests nor breath allows But storms of strokes descend about his brows, A rattling tempest and a hail of blows."

At this point of the combat--when, after what ought to have closed round 1, by the fall of old Entellus, the latter jumps up and renews the fight, driving Dares in confusion before him--we find that the referee and stakeholder had a judicial discretionary power to stop the fight, the more necessary on account of the deadly gloves in use. Some such power, in cases of closing and attempts at garotting , should be vested in the referee; but then where is the man who in modern times would be efficiently supported or obeyed in this judicial exercise of authority?

"But now the prince, who saw the wild increase Of wounds, commands the combatants to cease, And bounds Entellus' wrath, and bids the peace. First to the Trojan, spent with toil, he came, And soothed his sorrow for the suffered shame. 'What fury seized my friend? The gods,' said he, 'To him propitions, are averse to thee, Have given his arm superior force to thine, 'Tis madness to contend with strength divine.' The gauntlet fight thus ended, from the shore His faithful friends the unhappy Dares bore: His mouth and nostrils poured a purple flood, And pounded teeth came rushing with his blood. Faintly he staggered through the hissing throng, And hung his head and trailed his legs along. The sword and casque are carried by his train, But with his foe the palm and ox remain."

The reader will doubtless be forcibly struck with the close imitation of Homer by the later epic poet. The length of this account--given, as are those in the ensuing pages, under the name of the winner--will render superfluous a lengthy notice of the vanquished--

DARES, another of the companions of AEneas, who also, like St. Patrick, was "a jontleman, and came of dacent people." Indeed, we see that he claimed to be descended from King Amycus. Your ancient pugilists seem to have been as anxious about "blood" as a modern horse-breeder. Dares was afterwards slain by Turnus in Italy. See Virg. AEneid, v. 369, xii. 363.

CLOANTHUS, too, fought some good battles; and from him the noble Roman family of the Cluentii boasted their descent. In "AEneid," v. 122, he wins the rowing match.

Of GYGES' match we merely learn that Turnus also slew him; and of GYAS, that he greatly distinguished himself by his prowess in the funeral games of Anchises in Sicily. As to the "pious" AENEAS himself, another son of Venus, by Anchises, he was a fighting man all his days. First, in the Trojan war, where he engaged in combat with Diomed and with Achilles himself, and afterwards, on his various voyagings in Sicily, Africa, and Italy, where he fought for a wife and a kingdom, and won both by killing his rival Turnus, marrying Lavinia, and succeeding his father-in-law, Latinus. Despite his "piety" in carrying off his old father Anchises from the flames of Troy, and giving him such a grand funeral, AEneas seems to have been a filibustering sort of vagrant; and after getting rid of poor Turnus, not without suspicions of foul play, he was drowned in crossing a river in Etruria, which territory he had invaded on a marauding expedition. We cannot say much against him on the score of "cruelty and desertion" in the matter of Queen Dido, seeing that chronology proves that the Carthaginian Queen was not born until about three hundred years after the fall of Troy, and therefore the whole story is the pure fabrication of the Roman poets, Virgil and Ovid. This, however, is by the way, so we will proceed to give a short account of the implements used in ancient boxing.

The second form of caestus, though less deadly at first aspect, is capable of administering the most fatal blows. This sort is represented in a bronze group, engraved in the first volume of the "Bronzi del Museo Kircheriano," which represents the battle between Amycus and Pollux, already noticed.

This would also seem to have been that offered by Entellus to Dares in the fifth book of the AEneid, though the "knobs of brass," "blunt points of iron," "plummets of lead," and other superfluities of barbarity, are not visible. Virgil's description of the caestus being the best, we here quote it:--

"He threw Two pond'rous gauntlets down, in open view; Gauntlets, which Eryx wont in fight to wield, And sheathe his hands within the listed field. With fear and wonder seiz'd the crowd beholds The gloves of death,--with sev'n distinguish'd folds Of tough bull's hides; the space within is spread With iron or with loads of heavy lead. Dares himself was daunted at the sight, Renounc'd his challenge, and refused to fight. Astonish'd at their weight, the hero stands, And pois'd the pond'rous engines in his hands."

In Smith's "Antiquities of Greece and Rome," and in Lenu's "Costumes des Peuples de l'Antiquit?," are other patterns. The subjoined is from the last named work.

The last form we shall give is also from a bas-relief found at Herculaneum. It is certainly of a less destructive form, the knuckles and back of the hand being covered by the leather, held in its place by a thumbhole, and further secured by two crossed straps to the vellus, which ends half way up the forearm. A similar engraving forms the tail-piece to the fifty-first page of the second volume of the Abb? St. Non's "Voyage Pittoresque," already quoted.

The AMPHOTIDES, a helmet or head-guard, to secure the temporal bones and arteries, encompassed the ears with thongs and ligatures, which were buckled either under the chin or behind the head. They bore some resemblance to the head guards used in modern broadsword and stick play, but seem to have fitted close. They were made of hides of bulls, studded with knobs of iron, and thickly quilted inside to dull the concussion of the blows. Though it may be doubted whether the amphotides were introduced until a later period of the pugilistic era, yet as their representation would prevent the faces or heads of the combatants being seen, sculptors and fresco painters would leave them out unhesitatingly, as they do head-dresses, belts, reins, horses' harness, etc., regardless of reality, and seeking only what they deemed high art in their representations.

The search after traces of boxing among the barbarism of the Middle Ages, with their iron cruelty and deadly warfare--not unredeemed, however, by rude codes of honour, knightly courtesy, and chivalrous gallantry, in defence of the weak and in honour of the fair--would not be worth the while. The higher orders jousted and tilted with lance, mace, and sword, the lower fought with sand-bags and the quarter-staff.

Wrestling, as an art, seems to have only survived among Gothic or Scandinavian peoples. A "punch on the head," advocated by Mr. Grantley Berkeley as a poacher's punishment, is, however, spoken of by Ariosto as the result of his romantic hero's wrath, who gives the offender "un gran punzone sulla testa," by way of caution. That there were "men before their time," who saw the best remedy for the fatal abuse of deadly weapons in popular brawls, we have the testimony of no less an authority than St. Bernard. That holy and peace-loving father of the Church, as we are told by Forsyth, and numerous other writers, established boxing as a safety-valve for the pugnacious propensities of the people. He tells us: "The strongest bond of union among the Italians is only a coincidence of hatred. Never were the Tuscans so unanimous as in hating the other States of Italy. The Senesi agreed best in hating all the other Tuscans; the citizens of Siena in hating the rest of the Senesi; and in the city itself the same amiable passion was subdivided among the different wards.

PUGILISTICA:

PREFATORY REMARKS.--FIG--SUTTON--WHITAKER--PEARTREE--PIPES--GRETTING.

At the risk of repetition we will return to our argument. Individuals, as well as states, must have their disputes, their quarrels, and then--their battles. This is, there is no denying, the sad but natural--the regrettable but inevitable, condition and tenure on which human life--nay, all animal existence--is held. There must, then, be some mode through which the passions, when aroused, from whatever cause,--

Ambition, love, or greed and thirst of gold,--

It has frequently been urged by magistrates, and even ermined judges of quasi-liberal sentiments, that pugilism, as a national practice, and an occasional or fortuitous occurrence, may be winked at by the authorities, or tacitly allowed, and prohibited or punished at discretion, as the occasion may seem to require: but that gymnastic schools where boxing is regularly taught, and pitched battles, are social nuisances which the law should rigorously suppress. Granting the possibility of this utter repression, which we deny, it may well be questioned whether we have not tried to suppress a lesser evil to evolve a greater.

To boxing-schools and regulated combats we owe that noble system of fistic ethics, of fair play, which distinguishes and elevates our common people, and which stern, impartial, unprejudiced and logical minds must hail and foster as one of the proud attributes of our national character. We do not in the least undervalue peaceful pursuits, which constitute and uphold the blessings of peaceful life; yet a nation with no idea or principle beyond commerce would be unworthy, nay, would be impotent for national existence, much more for national power and progress. Subjection, conquest, and hence serfdom and poverty, must be its fate in presence of strong, rapacious, and encroaching neighbours. "The people that possesses steel," said the ancient assailant of the Lydian Croesus, "needs not long want for gold." A portion, then, of a nation must be set apart, whose vocation it will be to secure and to defend the lives, liberties, and properties of the whole. Hence the honourable calling of the soldier and the sailor; and hence, to fit the people for these, and to prevent the too general indulgence of effeminacy, dread of enterprise, and the contagious spread of an enervating and fanatical peace-at-any-price quietism, it is wise and politic to encourage the manly and athletic sports and contests which invigorate the frame, brace the nerves, inspire contempt of personal suffering, and enable man to defend his rights as well as to enjoy them. Englishmen have learned, and we sincerely hope will continue to learn and to practise, fair boxing, as they have learned other arts of defence,--the use of the rifle among others, in which they have already excelled Swiss, American, and Australian mountaineers and woodmen: men from countries celebrated for their practice of long shots, and constant handling of the weapon. Let them, therefore, see that the fair use of the fist is not sneered down by the craven or the canter. Were every pugilistic school shut up, the practice of boxing discouraged, and the fiat of our modern intolerant saints carried out, the manly spirit of fair play in our combats would disappear, and the people of this country lose one of their fairest characteristics. A retrospect of the last ten years will answer whether these are times to incur such risk; while at home, how-much-soever we may have had of the fist, we have indeed had too much of the loaded bludgeon, the mis-named "life-preserver," the garotte, the knife, and the revolver.

FIG --1719-1734.

Although, doubtless, brave boxers in every shire of "merrie England" sported their Adam's livery on the greensward, and stood up toe to toe for "love and a bellyful," yet the name of James Fig, a native of Thame, in Oxfordshire, is, thanks to the pen of Captain Godfrey and the pencil of the great Hogarth, the first public champion "of the Ring" of whom we have authentic record. Doubtless--

"Vixere fortes ante Agamemnon;"

but their deeds and glories, for want of a chronicler, have lapsed into oblivion , and--

"Sleep where lie the songs and wars of earth Before Pelides' death, or Homer's birth."

To Captain Godfrey's spirited and scarce quarto, entitled "A Treatise on the Useful Science of Defence," we are indebted for the preservation of the names and descriptions of the persons and styles of the athletes who were his contemporaries. It would seem that though Fig has been acknowledged as the Father of the Ring, he was as much, if not more, distinguished as a cudgel and back-sword player then as a pugilist. Captain Godfrey thus speaks of Fig:--"I have purchased my knowledge with many a broken head, and bruises in every part of me. I chose mostly to go to Fig and exercise with him; partly, as I knew him to be the ablest master, and partly, as he was of a rugged temper, and would spare no man, high or low, who took up a stick against him. I bore his rough treatment with determined patience, and followed him so long, that Fig, at last, finding he could not have the beating of me at so cheap a rate as usual, did not show such fondness for my company. This is well known by gentlemen of distinguished rank, who used to be pleased in setting us together."

The reputation of Fig having induced him to open an academy , known as "Fig's Amphitheatre," in Tottenham Court Road, the place became shortly a great attraction, and was crowded with spectators. It was here that Captain Godfrey displayed his skill and elegance in manly sports with the most determined competitors, the sports being witnessed by royal and noble personages, who supported the science as tending to endue the people with hardihood and intrepidity. About 1720 Fig resided in Oxford Road, now Oxford-street, and at the period of the curious fac-simile, here for the first time engraved, we find him still in the same neighbourhood.

Smithfield, Moorfields, St. George's Fields, Southwark, and Hyde Park, during this period also had "booths" and "rings" for the display of boxing and stick play. In Hogarth's celebrated picture of "Southwark Fair" our hero prominently figures, in a caricatured exaggeration, challenging any of the crowd to enter the lists with him for "money, love, or a bellyful." This picture we have also chosen as an interesting illustration of the great English painter,--a record of manners in a rude period. As one of the bills relating to this fair is extant, we subjoin it:

ALSO

To conclude With a GRAND PARADE by the Valiant FIG, who will exhibit his knowledge in various Combats--with the Foil, Back-sword, Cudgel, and Fist. To begin each Day at Twelve o'clock, and close at Ten.

N.B. The Booth is fitted up in a most commodious manner, for the better reception of Gentlemen, &c. &c.

Let it not be thought that Fig, among his many antagonists, was without a rival. Sutton, the Gravesend Pipemaker, already mentioned, publicly dared the mighty Fig to the combat, and met him with alternate success, till a third trial "proved the fact" of Fig's superiority. These contests, though given in all the "Chronologies" and "Histories" of the Ring, were neither more nor less than cudgel-matches, as will be seen by the subjoined contemporary verses by Dr. John Byrom. They are printed in "Dodsley's Collection," vol. vi., p. 312, under the title of--

EXTEMPORE VERSES UPON A TRIAL OF SKILL BETWEEN THOSE TWO GREAT MASTERS OF DEFENCE, MESSIEURS FIG AND SUTTON.

Long was the great Fig, by the prize-fighting swains, Sole monarch acknowledged of Marybone plains, To the towns far and near did his glory extend, And swam down the river from Thame to Gravesend, Where lived Mister Sutton, pipemaker by trade, Who hearing that Fig was thought such a stout blade, Resolved to go in for a share of his fame, And so sent a challenge to the Champion of Thame.

With alternate advantage two trials had past, When they fought out the rubber on Wednesday last; To see such a contest, the house was quite full, There hardly was room to thrust in your skull. With a prelude of cudgels we first were saluted, And two or three shoulders were handsomely fluted, Till, weary at last with inferior disasters, All the company cried, "The Masters! the Masters!"

Whereupon the bold Sutton first mounted the stage, Made his honours as usual, and yearned to engage; When Fig, with a visage so fierce, yet sedate, Came and entered the lists with his fresh shaven pate; Their arms were encircled with armigers too, With a red ribbon Sutton's, and Fig's with a blue. Thus advanced the two heroes, 'tween shoulder and elbow, Shook hands, and went to't, and the word it was, "Bilbo!"

Stanzas iv. to viii. describe the back-sword play, in which both men broke their weapons, and Fig has blood drawn by his own broken blade, whereon he appeals and another bout is granted. Fig then wounds Sutton in the arm and the sword play is over. Stanzas ix. and x. wind up the match , as follows:--

Then after that bout they went on to another, But the matter must end in some fashion or other, So Jove told the gods he had made a decree, That Fig should hit Sutton a stroke on the knee; Though Sutton, disabled as soon as he hit him, Would still have fought on, strength would not permit him; 'Twas his fate, not his fault, that constrained him to yield And thus the great Fig remained Lord of the Field.

"In Fig," says his pupil and admirer Captain Godfrey , "strength, resolution, and unparalleled judgment, conspired to form a matchless master. There was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in all his actions, beyond all I ever saw. His right leg bold and firm, and his left, which could hardly ever be disturbed, gave him the surprising advantage already proved, and struck his adversary with despair and panic."

BOB WHITAKER--1733.

Two only of Whitaker's battles have survived the tooth of old Tempus edax rerum: his victory over the Venetian Gondolier and his defeat by Ned Peartree.

In the year 1733 a gigantic Venetian came to this country in the suite of one of our travelling nobility, whose name not being recorded we may set down this part of the story as apocryphal; in fact, as a managerial trick to attract aristocratic patronage. Be that as it may, this immense fellow, who was known by the name of "The Gondolier," was celebrated for feats of strength: his fame ran before him, and his length of arm and jaw-breaking power of fist were loudly trumpeted. Indeed, a challenge having been issued by the backers of the Venetian, Fig was applied to to find a man to meet this Goliath. The sequel shall be told in Captain Godfrey's own words:--

"Bob Whitaker was the man pitched upon to fight the big Venetian. I was at Slaughter's Coffee-house when the match was made by a gentleman of advanced station: he sent for Fig to procure a proper man for him. He told him to take care of his man, because it was for a large sum; and the Venetian was of wonderful strength, and famous for breaking the jawbone in boxing. Fig replied, in his rough manner, 'I do not know, master, but he may break one of his countrymen's jawbones with his fist; but I'll bring him a man, and he shall not be able to break his jawbone with a sledge hammer.'

"The battle was fought at Fig's amphitheatre, before a splendid company, the politest house of that kind I ever saw. While the Gondolier was stripping my heart yearned for my countryman. His arm took up all observation; it was surprisingly large, long, and muscular. He pitched himself forward with his right leg, and his arm full extended; and, as Whitaker approached, caught him a blow at the side of the head which knocked him quite off the stage, which was remarkable for its height. Whitaker's misfortune in his fall was the grandeur of the company, on which account they suffered no common people in, that usually sat on the ground, and lined the stage all round. It was thus all clear, and Whitaker had nothing to stop him but the bottom. There was a general foreign huzza on the side of the Venetian, as proclaiming our countryman's downfall; but Whitaker took no more time than was required to get up again, when, finding his fault in standing out to the length of the other's arm, he, with a little stoop, dashed boldly in beyond the heavy mallet, and with one English peg in the stomach," by which the captain in another place explains he means what is called "the mark,"--"quite a new thing to foreigners, brought him on his breech. The blow carried too much of the English rudeness with it for him to bear, and finding himself so unmannerly used, he scorned to have any more doings with such a slovenly fist." We could not resist transcribing this graphic, terse, and natural account of a prize-fight; the rarity of Captain Godfrey's book, and the bald, diluted, silly amplification of it in "Boxiana," pp. 22-25, vol. i., being the moving reasons thereto.

"So fine a house," says Captain Godfrey, alluding to the company which assembled to see Whitaker fight the Gondolier, "was too engaging to Fig not to court another. He therefore stepped up, and told the gentlemen that they might think he had picked out the best man in London on this occasion; but to convince them to the contrary, he said, that if they would come on that day se'nnight, he would bring a man who should beat this Whitaker in ten minutes by fair hitting. This brought near as great and fine a company as the week before. The 'man' was Nathaniel Peartree, who, knowing the other's bottom, and his deadly way of flinging, took a most judicious manner to beat him. Let his character come in here.--He was an admirable boxer, and I do not know one he was not a match for, before he lost his finger. He was famous, like Pipes, for fighting at the face, but was stronger in his blows. He knew Whitaker's hardiness, and, being doubtful of beating him, cunningly determined to fight at his eyes. His judgment carried his arm so well, that, in about six minutes, both Whitaker's eyes were shut; when, groping about a while for his man, and finding him not, he wisely gave out , with these odd words--'Damme, I'm not beat; but what signifies my fighting when I can't see my man?'"

TOM PIPES AND GEORGE GRETTING--1724-1734.

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