Chapter I (2)

6.—Molineaux distressed for wind and exhausted,
lunged right and left. Cribb avoided his blows,
and then put in a good hit with his right, which
Molineaux stopped exceedingly well. Cribb now
got in a destructive blow at his “mark,” which
doubled up Molineaux; he got away pitifully cut
up: he, however, returned to begin a rally,
seemingly anxious to go in, but still sensible
of the ugly consequences. He appeared almost
frantic, and no dancing-master could have
performed a pirouette more gratifying to Cribb’s
friends. Molineaux hit short, capered about, and
was quite abroad. Cribb followed him round the
ring, and after some astonishing execution,
floored him by a tremendous hit at full arm’s
length. The odds rose five to one.

7.—Molineaux seemed lost in rage. He ran in, and
undoubtedly did some execution; but Cribb put in
several straight hits about the throat, stepping
back after each. Molineaux bored in till he
fell.

8.—Molineaux again rallied, seemingly as a
forlorn hope, but his distance was ill-judged.
Cribb once and again nobbed him, and getting his
head (his own trick by the bye) under his left
arm, fibbed him until he fell.

9.—Lombard Street to a China orange. Molineaux
was dead beat, and only stood up to encounter
Cribb’s ponderous blows. He ran in, Cribb met
him with his left hand; the blow was tremendous,
being doubled in force by the black’s impetuous
rush, Molineaux’s jaw was fractured, and he fell
like a log. He did not come to time within the
half minute, but Cribb, wishing to show his
superiority, gave away this chance, dancing a
hornpipe about the stage, until—

10.—With great difficulty Molineaux got off his
second’s knee, only for fresh punishment. His
rush was desperate, but equally unsuccessful,
and he fell evidently from distress.

11.—Here ended the contest. Cribb gave away
another chance in the time. Molineaux’s senses,
however, were absolutely hit out of him; he was
perfectly unable to stand, and a Scotch reel by
Gully and Cribb announced the victory, while the
very welkin echoed with applause.

REMARKS.[137]—This battle, which lasted only
nineteen minutes ten seconds, left no doubt as
to the superiority of Cribb. The science of
Molineaux at the opening of the fight was quite
equal to that of the champion, but the condition
of Cribb was far better, his temper more under
restraint, and although there was no question of
Molineaux’s courage, which almost amounted to
ferocity, Cribb was his superior in steadiness
and self-possession. During the battle the
spectators gave applause to both combatants, and
many were surprised that Molineaux should have
found himself necessitated to relinquish the
palm in so short a time, when he so obstinately
contested with the same opponent thrice the
duration so very recently. It is to be
considered, that in the first combat Cribb was
full of flesh, and by no means in prime
condition; and again, that in this battle,
although Molineaux had acquired an increased
degree of science, he had by his own conduct
impaired his stamina. Although it has been
acknowledged that applause was mutually given,
and that Molineaux in every point had fair play
shown him, it cannot but be granted that the
exulting clamour of congratulation, proceeding
from the Champion’s friends, when even the
slightest advantage seemed to favour him, must
have tended to hurt the feelings of the man of
colour, and very probably to have cowed him. It
should have been considered that Molineaux was a
stranger, that he stood indisputably a man of
courage; that he came to the contest unprotected
and unsupported by friends of note; while his
opponent commanded the patronage of the leading
men as well as the natural partiality of his
countrymen in his favour. Much has been said of
Molineaux’s savage denunciations against Cribb;
of his vapouring professions of what he should
like to do to him; and these were thought
sufficiently disgusting to have excited
animosity against him. But granting that
Molineaux was brutish enough to make use of many
of the barbarous expressions imputed to him, we
certainly ought to take into consideration the
circumstances under which they were uttered. The
black could not but be sensible that Cribb was
better supported by his many surrounding friends
than himself. He knew and felt that Cribb was
under the care of the first trainer in the
country, while he was left to the government of
Tom Belcher and Richmond, who made him an
instrument of getting money, by carrying him
round the country to exhibit sparring, and, to
keep him in good temper and pliable to their
wishes, allowing him to drink stout and ale by
gallons. It is said that on the morning of the
fight, he bolted a boiled fowl, an apple pie,
and a tankard of porter for his breakfast. When
all these circumstances are considered, by an
unprejudiced mind, it cannot be denied, that
whatever national pride we may justly feel in
our Champion’s triumph, and admiration of his
pluck and manly prowess, we cannot but admit
that the man of colour was a formidable
antagonist, and one who, but for his own
imprudence, might have won fame and fortune in
the pugilistic arena.[138]

The stage, which was twenty-five feet square,
was erected in a stubble field, surrounded first
by a roped ring, in order to prevent any
interruption by the crowd, and secondly, by as
well framed and supported a circle of
pedestrians as perhaps was ever witnessed,
notwithstanding the great distance from the
metropolis. The first row of these, as usual
upon most occasions, lying down, the second
kneeling, and the rest standing up. Outside
these again were numerous horsemen, some seated,
while others more eager stood, circus-like, upon
their saddle; these were intermixed with every
description of carriage, gig, barouche, buggy,
cart, and waggon. The display of sporting men,
from the peer on the box of his four-in-hand to
the rustic in clouted shoes, but as perfect a
picture as the fancy can well conceive. Every
fighting man of note, every pugilistic amateur
was to be seen, and among those active and
peculiarly interested we noted Lord Yarmouth,
the Hon. Berkeley Craven, Major Mellish, Captain
Barclay (Allardyce of Ury),[139] Sir Francis
Bayntun, General Grosvenor, Thomas Goddard,
Esq., Sir Henry Smith, the Marquis of
Queensberry, Lord Pomfret, Sir Charles Astor,
etc., etc.

On the Sunday after the battle the champion passed through Stamford in a barouche and four, the horses decorated with blue ribbons (Cribb’s colours). He called on Molineaux at Grantham, and on the Monday arrived in London, where he was received with a public ovation, the wide street at Holborn being almost impassable from the crowds which assembled to greet the Champion of England. At the Horse and Dolphin,[140] St. Martin’s Street, Richmond’s house, on the Saturday night, the crowd was so immense that a posse of officers attended and the house was closed. Cribb’s passage home to his house, in White Lion Street, Seven Dials, was through so dense an assemblage of applauding spectators that the streets were almost impassable. We read in “Boxiana,” that “Cribb gained £400 by this set-to, and his patron, Captain Barclay, £10,000; a baker, in the Borough, sported all his blunt, personal property, together with the lease of his house, etc., amounting to £1,700, upon the Champion. A curious bet was also made between two sporting characters, the winner to get a complete suit of clothes, shirt, cravat, etc., etc., with walking stick, gloves, and a guinea in the trousers pocket. Through the kind interference of Mr. Jackson, a collection of nearly £50 was made for Molineaux.” We have already referred to the superior condition of Cribb in this second battle, and the present appears a fitting place to narrate a few circumstances relating to this remarkable instance of the first recorded results of the modern system of training. It is extracted from a little work on “Pedestrianism and Training,” published in 1816, “revised” by Captain Barclay himself.

“The Champion arrived at Ury on the 7th of July of that year. He weighed sixteen stone; and from his mode of living in London, and the confinement of a crowded city, he had become corpulent, big-bellied, full of gross humours, and short-breathed; and it was with difficulty he could walk ten miles. He first went through a course of physic, which consisted of three doses; but for two weeks he walked about as he pleased, and generally traversed the woods and plantations with a fowling-piece in his hand; the reports of his gun resounded every where through the groves and the hollows of that delightful place, to the great terror of the magpies and wood pigeons.

“After amusing himself in this way for about a fortnight, he then commenced his regular walking exercise, which at first was about ten or twelve miles a day. It was soon after increased to eighteen or twenty; and he ran regularly, morning and evening, a quarter of a mile at the top of his speed. In consequence of his physic and exercise, his weight was reduced, in the course of five weeks, from sixteen stone to fourteen and nine pounds. At this period he commenced his sweats, and took three during the month he remained at Ury afterwards; and his weight was gradually reduced to thirteen stone and five pounds, which was ascertained to be his pitch of condition, as he would not reduce farther without weakening.

“During the course of his training, the Champion went twice to the Highlands, and took strong exercise. He walked to Mar Lodge, which is about sixty miles distant from Ury, where he arrived to dinner on the second day, being now able to go thirty miles a day with ease, and probably he could have walked twice as far if it had been necessary. He remained in the Highlands about a week each time, and amused himself with shooting. The principal advantage which he derived from these expeditions was the severe exercise he was obliged to undergo in following Captain Barclay. He improved more in strength and wind by his journeys to the Highlands than by any other part of the training process.

“His diet and drink were the same as used in the pedestrian regimen, and in other respects, the rules previously laid down were generally applied to him. That he was brought to his ultimate pitch of condition was evident, from the high state of health and strength in which he appeared when he mounted the stage to contend with Molineaux, who has since confessed that when he saw his fine condition, he totally despaired of gaining the battle.

“Cribb was altogether about eleven weeks under training, but he remained only nine weeks at Ury. Besides his regular exercise, he was occasionally employed in sparring at Stonehaven, where he gave lessons in the pugilistic art. He was not allowed much rest, but was constantly occupied in some active employment. He enjoyed good spirits, being at the time fully convinced that he should beat his antagonist. He was managed, however, with great address, and the result corresponded with the wishes of his friends.

“It would be perhaps improper, while speaking of Cribb, to omit mentioning that, during his residence in the north of Scotland, he conducted himself in all respects with much propriety. He showed traits of a feeling, humane, and charitable disposition, on various occasions. While walking along Union Street in Aberdeen, he was accosted by a woman apparently in great distress. Her story affected him, and the emotions of his heart became evident in the muscles of his face. He gave her all the silver he had in his pocket. ‘God bless your honour,’ she said, ‘ye’are surely not an or’nary mon!’ This circumstance is mentioned with the more pleasure, as it affords one instance, at least, in opposition to the mistaken opinion that professional pugilists are ferocious, and totally destitute of the better propensities of mankind. The illustrious Mr. Windham, entertained juster sentiments of the pugilistic art, as evinced by a print he presented to Mr. Jackson as a mark of his esteem. In one compartment an Italian, darting his stiletto at his victim, is represented; and in the other, the combat of two Englishmen in the ring. For this celebrated genius was always of opinion, that nothing tended more to preserve among the English peasantry those sentiments of good faith and honour, which have ever distinguished them from the natives of Italy and Spain, than the frequent practice of fair and open boxing.”

Shortly after Cribb’s final triumph, in honour of his hard-earned victories, a splendid dinner was given at Gregson’s (the Castle, Holborn), by a large party of the Champion’s admirers and patrons. Cribb was unanimously called to the chair. His conduct as president was unassuming and pleasant, receiving the approbation of the patrons of distinction by whom he was surrounded. Harmony prevailed, and several excellent songs written for the occasion, full of point, were most rapturously received, particularly one of Bob Gregson’s, which was applauded to the echo, and loudly encored. The company did not depart till they unanimously voted the Champion a silver cup, valued 50 guineas, as a memorial of the high opinion which the sporting world held of his uniform courage in his pugilistic combats; also for his having voluntarily entered the ring (after positively declining pugilism in general), on the score of nationality, his own individual fame, and to prevent a foreigner from triumphing over the heroes of England.

The subscriptions for this purpose proving ample, the sum was increased, and a silver cup of 80 guineas value was presented to the Champion at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, on Monday, the 2nd of December, 1811, at a dinner appointed for that purpose, Tom Cribb in the chair, supported by one of the most numerous and respectable assemblages of the “fancy” ever witnessed. After the cloth was removed, and the usual loyal toasts given, Mr. Emery (of the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden), who had at a previous meeting been unanimously voted to present the plate, was now called upon to fulfil the wishes of the company. The cup was produced, the son of Thespis rose, and after drinking to “Cribb, the Champion of England!” addressed the chairman to the following effect:—

“Thomas Cribb, I have the honour this day of being the representative of a numerous and respectable body of your friends; and though I am by no means qualified to attempt the undertaking which has devolved on me by a vote of the subscribers, yet the cause will, I am confident, prove a sufficient excuse for my want of ability. You are requested to accept this cup as a tribute of respect, for the uniform valour and integrity you have shown in your several combats, but most particularly for the additional proofs of native skill and manly intrepidity displayed by your last memorable battle, when the cause rested, not merely upon individual fame, but for the pugilistic reputation of your country, in contending with a formidable foreign antagonist. In that combat you gave proof that the hand of a foreigner, when lifted against a son of Britannia, must not only be aided by the strength of a lion, but the heart also.

“The fame you have so well earned has been by manly and upright conduct; and such conduct, I have no doubt, will ever mark your very creditable retirement from the ring, or stage of pugilism. However intoxicated the cup or its contents may at any future period make you, I am sufficiently persuaded the gentlemen present, and the sons of John Bull in general, will never consider you have a cup too much.”

The cup, filled with wine, having gone round, the Champion thus briefly addressed his patrons:—“Gentlemen, for the honour you have done me in presenting this cup, I most respectfully beg of you to accept my warmest thanks.”

Harmony reigned throughout, and the Champion, impressed with gratitude to his leading patrons, Sir Henry Smyth, Bart., Captain Barclay, Thirlwall Harrison, Esq., etc., drank their healths with marked animation and respect; and the cup, in being put round, upon its arrival into the hands of Mr. Jackson, Gully, Gregson, and the veteran Joe Ward (who acted as vice), the company, as a mark of esteem for their past services, loudly cheered those heroes of the fist.

After an unsuccessful venture as a coal-merchant, at Hungerford Wharf, Cribb underwent the usual metamorphosis from a pugilist to a publican, and opened a house at the Golden Lion in the Borough; but finding his position too far eastward for his numerous aristocratic patrons, “honest Tom” moved his quarters to the King’s Arms,[141] the corner of Duke Street and King Street, St. James’s, and subsequently to the Union Arms, at the corner of Panton Street and Oxendon Street, Haymarket.

With one interruption, presently to be noticed, our hero’s life was henceforth of a peaceful character. In 1814, upon the conclusion of the gigantic European struggle with the first Napoleon, Cribb had the honour of sparring before the monarchs, princes, and marshals, who visited the Prince Regent in honour of the pacification of Europe. On Wednesday, June 15, 1814, the Emperor of Russia, the Hetman Platoff, Marshal Blucher, and an illustrious party, assembled at the house of Lord Lowther, in Pall Mall, to an elegant _déjeuner_, when boxing, as a peculiar trait of the brave nation of England, was introduced. “The distinguished visitors were so much gratified with this generous mode of settling quarrels, and the scientific mode of attack and defence exhibited, that they requested of Lord Lowther that another trial of skill might take place on the Friday following, when, in addition to the visitors, the King of Prussia, the Prince Royal of Prussia, Princes Frederick and William of Prussia, the Prince of Mecklenburg, General D’Yorck, etc., honoured the meeting with their presence. Some elegant specimens of the pugilistic art were displayed between Messrs. Jackson, Belcher, Cribb, Richmond, Painter, Oliver, etc. The set-tos in general were excellent; but the sparring of Jackson was particularly admired. The Champion of England (Cribb) occasioned a general stare among the spectators, and the veteran Blucher eyed him with more than common attention. The royal guests expressed their satisfaction at the treat they had experienced; and upon taking their departure, complimented his lordship as the patron of so manly and characteristic a trait of his country.”

About this period, and for several years, Tom’s character and doings seem to have been a favourite theme with “penny-a-liners” and paragraph writers, and the papers of the time, furnish a crop of anecdotes, good, bad, and indifferent, many of which are scattered up and down Pierce Egan’s volumes. We give a few of them on his authority.

TOM CRIBB AND THE PIG.—During the time Tom was in training, previous to his match with Gregson, as he was taking his morning’s exercise through a country village, accompanied by his friend Gully, dressed in long smock frocks, they observed an overgrown fellow beating a pig in a very cruel manner. Upon inquiry, they found the animal belonged to a neighbour, and civilly begged him to desist from such cruelty. The fellow abused them for their interfering, and, relying on his strength, threatened to give them both a good hiding, assisted by three or four hawbucks, who had joined the squabble. Without farther ceremony the fellow put himself in an offensive attitude, and made a violent blow at Cribb, which the latter stopped with the utmost _sang froid_, not forgetting to put in his one-two tremendously, the effects of which floored this unfeeling brute in a twinkling. His nob was materially shook, and the claret tapped in a masterly style. This small taste of Cribb’s quality had the desired effect. The fight was instantly taken out of the chaw-bacon, who went off, growling to himself, from the scene of his cruelty and impertinence; but not, however, before receiving an admonition from the Champion to be more temperate in his language and humane in his conduct in future. Gully, smiling to himself, now wished another of these Johnny Raws, who had been also very busy and impudent, to try what he could do with him, observing, that he might have better luck than his fellow servant. But in vain, the milling specimen exhibited by Cribb had completely terrified all their boasted valour into submission. It was soon afterwards learned in the village that the row in question had been with Gully and Cribb.

CRIBB AND THE NAVVY.—A navigator, from Lancashire, as big and as rough an article as can be imagined, prompted, it is supposed, by the great pugilistic success of Carter, took a turn, on Thursday evening, November 7, 1816, in the neighbourhood of Westminster, and suddenly pounced on the Champion of England and Tom Oliver, in the friendly act of blowing a cloud together. Without waiting for the formality of an introduction to those heroes of the fist, he boasted of his milling pretensions, and _sans cérémonie_, challenged Oliver for a turn-up. The coat of Oliver was half way off to resent this unprovoked attack upon his prowess, but Cribb forbade it, observing that the navigator was too heavy, and that he should be more fitted to accommodate this hasty customer, having no doubt but that he should quickly alter his opinion of his own capabilities. The parties retired to a large shed at the back of the house, when a turn-up commenced without further delay. The navigator run in like a bull, head foremost, and endeavoured to bring the Champion down after the Lancashire method, by seizing hold of his thighs; but he failed in his attempts most wofully, for in five minutes he was so punished that he cried out, “I yeald.” Cribb left him to reflect on his folly, but in the course of a few minutes he came in and again insisted upon having another set-to with “the stout ’un.” This was agreed to, but the navigator soon adopted his former phrase of “I yeald!” Cribb now retired, supposing he had given complete satisfaction; but it was not long before he was compelled to renew the combat for the third time with this dissatisfied brute. The navigator resorted to purring, and endeavoured to effect a conquest by hugging; but Cribb clareted him in all directions, and marked his body so severely, that he now could scarcely articulate the provincial, “I yeald!” The only regret expressed by the Champion was that, during an attack of twenty minutes, he could not put in a straight blow, as the navigator never stood up like a man, merely attempting by foul means to throw or disable his man. Cribb returned home without a scratch, while the man of mud received an important lesson on the advantages of science.

THE CHAMPION AND THE JEW.—The placid and forbearing character of Cribb is strikingly illustrated in the following incident. Cribb, in passing through Fore Street, Cripplegate, was most grossly insulted by a Jew of the name of Simmonds, who, valuing himself upon his manhood, and not knowing whom he was in contact with, endeavoured to give our hero a facer. The Champion, with the utmost composure, seized hold of this mere apology for a boxer (in his hands), yet disdained to inflict that sort of punishment which, had he given way to passion, from his well-known strength and science, must in all probability nearly annihilated this presuming Israelite. Instead of this, however, Tom instantly compelled Mordecai to go before the Lord Mayor to answer for the assault. His Lordship, on hearing the case, was struck with the magnanimity displayed by Cribb on this occasion, and highly praised him for his manliness of temper, at the same time reprimanding the Jew severely for his improper behaviour. The Jew was, however, discharged on paying the costs, upon the Champion good-naturedly interposing to prevent a fine.

CRIBB AND MASSA KENDRICK.—A sable hero, well known in the fancy circles as Massa Kendrick, was brought before Mr. Birnie, at Bow Street, on a Bench warrant, for an assault on the Champion of England. The African kicked most confoundedly at finding himself in the grasp of the law. When told by the magistrate that he must find good and sufficient bail, he exclaimed, “Bail! what ‘casion for bail? Massa Cribb the most quarrelsomest man in all England. He’s a fighting man, and I’m a fighting man, and if I gibs him punch ob the head, and he gib me another, what that to anumbody else? What the use ob talking about bail?” In reply to this tirade the Champion calmly observed, “If I was not to take such a step as this now and then, I could not carry on my business, or even live in my own house, for these swaggering blackguards.” He then explained to the magistrate that the defendant was noisy and riotous in his house, and in consequence he insisted on his leaving; but, instead of doing so, he seized the Champion by the cravat, and attempted to extinguish his glories by strangulation, at the same time placing his hand under his thigh, apparently with the intention of throwing him. “But,” said the Champion, “that was all my eye, for I put him down.” Kendrick was about to retort, but the magistrate stopped his mouth, by ordering him to find the required bail.

THE CHAMPION AND HIS DWARF.—To these proofs of courage and forbearance we will append a sample or two of his humanity, an unfailing accompaniment of true valour.

Our hero made his bow before the magistrate on Wednesday, December 18, 1822, as the friend and protector of the helpless, in the person of a German dwarf, named John Hauptman. This little fellow, whose extreme altitude was forty inches, obtained a living during many years by hiring himself out as an exhibition to itinerant showmen. But his day had gone by—other and more youthful dwarfs had superseded him in the public favour, and poverty was pressing heavily on his head, when, in the midst of his destitution, accident led him to the hospitable fireside of Tom Cribb. The Champion listened to his tale of poverty; cheered his frame with the comforts of his bar and his larder, and told him he was welcome to stay at the Union Arms till he could find a better shelter, and he resided there as a sort of assistant waiter.

A drunken hackney-coach master, named Beckett, during the champion’s absence, on the previous Monday, not only insulted the little fellow, but encouraged his son, a lad of about ten years old, to beat him, and for this outrage on his protégé, the Champion now sought redress.

The burly-built hero of the ring entered the office, leading his tiny friend by the hand; and he and the lad having been placed side by side on a stool before the bench, the Champion stated what he had heard of the transaction, adding, “The poor little fellow has no friend in the world but me, your worship, and hang me if I would not rather have been beat myself.”

“That would not have been so easy a matter, Mr. Cribb,” observed his worship, and directed the dwarf to be sworn.

The little fellow then gave a very humble and modest account of the affair. He said, in tolerable English, that he was very sorry anybody should be troubled on his account, but Mr. Beckett would not be satisfied unless he would fight with the boy, and because he would not fight, he urged the boy on, till he knocked him down by “a blow on de mout, which cut him vor mush, and hurt him a mush deal.”

The lad pulled out his torn shirt-frill in reply, and the father delivered his defence thus:—“It was the brandy and water that did it, your worship; I’ll tell the truth: it was the brandy and water sure enough. I have known Mr. Cribb many years.” “That’s the reason you ought not to have taken advantage of my absence, to insult a poor little fellow you know I cared so much for,” observed the kind-hearted Champion.

The magistrate, after having warmly commended the conduct of the Champion, directed the hackneyman to find bail for the assault. Upon retiring to settle the row, the dragsman made it “all right” with Cribb, by making the dwarf a present of a sovereign.

At the Fives Court, on the occasion of Scroggins’s benefit, March 23, 1817, Jack Carter, who then aspired to the championship, which for nearly eight years had remained undisputed in the hands of Cribb, made his appearance upon the stage, and a glove being thrown up as a defiance, the Champion of England presented himself, to answer the challenge. However, upon Gregson ascending the platform to spar, Cribb was about to retire, when “Cribb, Cribb!” was vociferated from all parts of the court. The anxiety was so great, that the disturbance was hardly appeased until Cribb appeared ready for the combat. Cribb looked well and kept his position like a rock. He could neither be drawn nor stepped in upon, and the skirmishing tactics of the Lancashire hero could make no impression on the veteran of the ring. At in-fighting Cribb also decidedly took the lead. Carter put in one or two facers with much dexterity; but upon the milling system the Black Diamond proved that he was still a diamond, and instead of losing any of his former brilliancy, he shone with increased lustre and effect.

“From this period,” says “Boxiana,” “Carter seems to have ‘fancied’ a shy at Cribb, and on his return from Ireland on Tuesday, February 1, 1820, he challenged the man of colour, Sutton, for 100 guineas a-side. While this match was on, Carter called in at a sporting house, at the west end of the town; and, in consequence of his not being admitted into a private party, then assembled, he intemperately addressed a note to the chairman as ‘Mr. Swell.’ He was, however, admitted, when he had the bad taste to begin flourishing about his repeated conquests over the dark part of the creation. He also sneered at the Champion, saying, he had left off fighting, because fighting had left him off; but he (Carter) had come to fight somebody, and indeed he would fight ‘onybody!’ This sort of chaffing was attempted to be checked by a person present, when the Lancashire brute, _sans ceremonie_, threw the contents of a glass of wine in his face, part of which alighted on Tom Cribb. This insult was not to be borne, and the champion of England exclaimed “it was wrong!” Carter hereon defied him. Little parley ensued, ere the lion of the ring, although rather worse for the juice of the grape, grappled his enemy. He held up the Lancashire hero with the utmost ease, with one hand, in the Randall style, and Carter’s frontispiece received such repeated quiltings from the fist of Cribb that it was like a fashionable footman paying away at a knocker. It was close quarters—in fact, yard-arm to yard-arm; but the heavy shot of the first rate, although long laid up in ordinary, and nearly invalided, told heavily on the mug of his opponent. It was an up-and-down contest, and the Champion made such good use of his time, that his opponent was quite satisfied he had enough, and begged, in a piteous manner, that some person would take Cribb away from him, or else he should be killed! This entreaty was at length complied with; and upon the fallen hero getting upon his pins, the lads of the Fancy declared, from his altered appearance, that it was meeting an old friend with a new face. This severe thrashing scarcely occupied Cribb one minute! He did not receive a hurt in the slightest degree. Carter upon feeling his mouth, declared that part of his railings had departed.”

Until his formal retirement, Cribb never allowed his title of Champion to be questioned; and at the conclusion of the set-to between Harmer and Lancaster, at the Fives Court, on August 7th, 1820, the Champion rushed in, almost out of wind, made his way through the audience in a twinkling, ascended the stage with great rapidity, and threw up his hat. With his other hand he snatched out his pocket-book, and, with great animation and good emphasis, spoke to the following effect—keeping in mind our immortal bard’s advice to the actors, to

“Suit the action to the word.”

“Gentlemen,—I will fight Neate for 1000 guineas, or for 500 a-side (bravo). I have been just told, while I was taking a few whiffs over some cold brandy and water, that Neate had publicly challenged me. I therefore lost no time to show myself before you. Gentlemen, I do not like this chaffing behind a man’s back. I won’t have it. I am an Englishman; and I will behave like one. An Englishman never refuses a challenge (thunders of applause from all parts of the court). Neate is my countryman, but what of that? If he refuses to meet me, I will fight any man in Bristol for 1,000 guineas, and stake £100 directly. Here’s the blunt! My countrymen used me ill when I was last at Bristol; and Neate behaved rude to me (hear! and ‘Tom’s quite an orator; he must certainly have taken lessons from Thelwall.’) Perhaps ‘the old fool’ may be licked; but I will give any of them some trouble first before they do it (‘There is no one on the list can do it, Tom.’) I will tell you, gentlemen, they say Neate shall fight my boy, Spring, because they know he is unwell. This conduct isn’t right; my boy’s in a consumption (loud laughter), therefore I will fight Neate instead of him (bravo). My boy Spring has not got belly enough for him, but I have (clapping his hand upon his rotundity of abdomen.) ‘You have too much of it.’ Never mind, then, I am right enough about my bottom (great applause and laughter). I will fight; and blow my dickey (striking his fist very hard on the rails of the stage), but I will give any of them that fight me pepper (tumultuous cheering, and ‘To a certainty you will, Tom.’)”

This challenge of Neate, however, soon assumed a palpable form, for on Thursday evening, January 4, 1821, the Champion having called in at the Castle Tavern, to take a glass with his friend Tom Belcher, a swell from Bristol, and an admirer of Neate, without ceremony proposed the battle. The challenge was immediately taken up by Mr. James Soares, who felt for the pride of the metropolitan prize ring, and offered to stake £100 if the champion would consent to fight for the sum mentioned. Cribb answered, that he had said he would not fight for less than £500 a-side, in consequence of his business, but there had been so much chaffing about it, that he would fight Neate for £200 (loud cheers). The articles were immediately drawn up, and signed by the respective parties:—

“CASTLE TAVERN, HOLBORN, _January 4, 1821_.

“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.

“Signed, “J. S.
“J. E.”

“Witnessed, P. E.
“Thomas Belcher.”

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:—

“WHITEHALL, _21st July, 1821_.

“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.

“I have the honour to be, my Lord,
“Your Lordship’s most obedient, humble servant,
“SIDMOUTH.”

“_The Lord Gwydyr,
Deputy Great Chamberlain of England,
etc., etc., etc._”

“GREAT CHAMBERLAIN’S OFFICE, _July the 22nd, 1821_.”

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.

“I remain, sir,
“Your faithful and obedient servant,
“GWYDYR.”

“_To Mr. Thomas Cribb, etc._”

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.

CRIBB’S MONUMENT.

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.”