CHAPTER II.
RICHARD HUMPHRIES, “THE GENTLEMAN BOXER”—1784–1790.
The popular cognomen of the “Gentleman Boxer” may give the cue to the prepossessing appearance, quiet self-possession, and amenity of manners, which contemporary writers agree in attributing to Richard Humphries. “His attitudes,” says the author of “Sketches and Reminiscences,” already quoted, “were remarkable for their impressive grace;” of course according to the taste of the old school. We doubt if modern cognoscenti, as they inspect our faithful copy of a contemporary engraving, will endorse the opinion; but, as the Latin poet told us two thousand years ago, “times change, and men change with them:”[[57]] though we must admit that our progress has brought improvement.
Humphries was about the middle size, 5 feet 8 inches, well-limbed, and had practised boxing to great advantage. He was apt and ready; his blows were effective; and his aims at the “mark,” or wind, and under the ear, are talked of by contemporaries. Contrary to our modern notions, Humphries puzzled his antagonists by hitting with his right at leading off, and stopping with his left. He did not, however, like Mendoza, use both hands with equal facility. His game was unquestionable, and he was justly esteemed a model of pugilistic excellence. He was so attractive as to give a new and increased impetus to the art of self-defence; and on the public announcement that “the Gentleman Boxer” would fight Samuel Martin, the Bath Butcher, on a stage at Newmarket, on the 3rd of May, 1786, the battle was attended by their Royal Highnesses the Prince of Wales and Duke of York (arcades ambo), the Dukes of Orleans and De Fitzjames, and most of the French nobility then in England, with a crowd of the best and bravest of the land. A guinea was the admission-fee, which hundreds cheerfully paid, to go to the winner, and between £30,000 and £40,000 awaited the wager of battle.
Sam Martin[[58]] was a boxer of some repute, shorter than Humphries, strongly made, a little heavier, and had seen some service in the field of battle. The set-to was remarkable for science, Humphries parrying Martin’s attacks with singular adroitness, and standing up to Martin manfully. Martin seemed deficient in distance, and occasionally fell; hence his deliveries were ineffective. Humphries retained his position of favourite. Martin, finding himself kept out of distance, went in boldly. Humphries exchanged, and fought “with” his man, till the betting became equal. Humphries appeared the stronger man, giving his opponent a most tremendous knock down, which brought the odds to his favour. Martin, notwithstanding, appeared game, and fought well, contesting every inch of ground; and it was not until after a determined combat of an hour and three quarters, (“Boxiana” states three quarters of an hour) that Martin declared he had had enough. The distinguished company were highly gratified, and Humphries won—“golden opinions from all sorts of men.”
Numerous sporting men rallied round pugilism, and the professors of the science were not without high and noble patrons. Royalty now frequently witnessed the display of the art, accompanied by dukes, earls, honourables, etc.; and men of the first distinction did not feel ashamed of being seen in the ring, or acting as umpires at a manly boxing match.
The science, courage, and gentleman-like conduct of Humphries had secured him many friends; and, with a mind by no means destitute of intelligence, he could not fail in obtaining admiration and respect. But, deservedly distinguished as Humphries stood in the boxing hemisphere, a competitor arose to share his fame and glory, if not to aspire to superiority. He was not only a daring, but a most formidable rival, as his pretensions to pugilistic excellence were known to be sound. He had been proved, and his displays of skill in trying conflicts had made a deep impression upon the best judges. As there was beyond this a personal jealousy and rivalry, there was little difficulty in bringing together Daniel Mendoza and Richard Humphries.
We have already noticed the preliminary brush between the rivals at the “Cock,” at Epping.
Preliminaries being agreed to, Odiham, in Hampshire, was fixed upon as the place, and 400 guineas as the sum for which these masters of the art should contend. A raised twenty-four feet stage was prepared, in a paddock, and the door-money was to be divided between the combatants. On the day (January 9, 1788) being announced, the anxiety which prevailed upon the decision of this tourney was unprecedented. Odiham was then a distance from town; it is now a steam steed’s “stride.” Everybody was there, for Humphries and Mendoza were to fight. In the towns and villages near the scene of action, the country people were equally interested, and innumerable pedestrians were seen in all directions moving towards the fight, so that within an hour previous to the battle the multitude collected was truly astonishing. To prevent the combatants from being bilked of the door-money (which was half a guinea each), the most athletic of the milling corps were selected for the protection of the entrance, and the potent arms of Dunn, Ryan, Warr, and Tring, assisted by other powerful pugilists, kept for some time order in the crowd. But, as the time drew near for the combatants to mount the stage, John Bull’s anxiety increased beyond every other thought; and, with one desperate effort, the “majesty of the people,” like a mighty flood, swept all before it. The door-keepers were soon lost in the violence of the torrent, and thousands never gave themselves the trouble of asking the price of admission. All was noise, uproar, and confusion, for some minutes; but upon the appearance of the combatants their attention was so completely riveted that silence instantly prevailed.
According to our practice, whenever procurable we quote the report:—
“About one o’clock on Wednesday (January 9th, 1788), Humphries ascended the stage amid the cheers of the spectators, attended by Tom Johnson as his second, Tom Tring as his bottle-holder, and Mr. Allen as his chosen umpire. After bowing to all around, he proceeded to strip. His dress, when prepared for the contest, was a pair of fine flannel drawers, white silk stockings with gold-coloured clocks, pumps, and black shoe-ribands. While Humphries was preparing, Mendoza mounted the stage, and was received with reiterated plaudits. His second was David Benjamin; his bottle-holder, Jacobs, both Jews; and his umpire, Mr. Moravia. Mendoza’s dress was more plain than his opponent’s.
“In a few minutes the combatants were prepared for the onset, shook hands, and immediately Mendoza assumed his attitude with the air of a man determined on victory. Humphries appeared astonished, and both remained in serious expectation for some minutes before a blow was offered. Mendoza struck first, but recoiling, slipped and fell; Humphries caught it, and retreated. The second blow Mendoza gave his opponent brought him down, and in the next round they closed, and Mendoza threw his adversary. For full fifteen minutes did Mendoza attack with such violence and superiority, that the odds, which at the beginning were two to one against him, changed considerably in his favour; and during this time Humphries had many falls, but still remained undaunted.
“Whether the defensive mode of fighting adopted by Humphries in his first onset was manœuvre, or the nouvelle style in which he was attacked, and the unexpected vigour of his antagonist, made him give way, cannot but remain a matter of dispute. At the commencement of the battle Mendoza drove him to the side of the rail, and, while his body was suspended, aimed a blow at the bottom of his ribs, which undoubtedly would have decided the battle, had not Johnson caught it. Mendoza’s friends immediately exclaimed, ‘foul, foul;’ but the umpires decided Johnson was perfectly justified in acting as he had done, for that Humphries must be considered as being knocked down.[[59]]
“From the wetness of the day, the stage was extremely slippery, and this was particularly unfavourable to Humphries: he therefore took off his shoes; but silk stockings were ill calculated to remedy the inconvenience, and he afterwards put on a pair of worsted stockings, in which he stood more firm, and began to manifest great superiority. Having very much recovered himself, he stood up to his antagonist, and with great dexterity threw Mendoza, pitching him on the face, which cut his forehead above the right eye, and very much bruised his nose. From this moment odds changed again in favour of Humphries. He threw in a blow near the loins of his antagonist, and in the next round planted a most severe one in the neck. In this round Mendoza also struck him in the face; but slipping, he fell with his leg under him, sprained his foot, and immediately gave in: he shortly after fainted, and was carried off the stage.
“The contest lasted twenty-nine minutes (twenty-eight minutes fifty-four seconds), and it was acknowledged there never was more skill and science displayed in any boxing match in this kingdom.
“Mr. Bradyl, Humphries’ patron, not being on the ground, he immediately forwarded to him the result in the following laconic style:—
“Sir,—I have done the Jew, and am in good health.
“RICHARD HUMPHRIES.”
The Israelites were severe sufferers; but although Mendoza was defeated, his fame and character as a pugilist were considerably increased. His style of fighting was highly spoken of by the scientific; and at close quarters, and as a quick hitter, he was evidently superior to his antagonist. The advantage was also upon the side of Mendoza in strength of arm; and, when struggling to obtain the throw, he punished his adversary considerably by keeping down his head. His guard was excellent, and displayed a thorough knowledge of the art; in consequence of keeping it closer to his body than that of his adversary, his blows were given with more force when he hit out; and with respect to stopping he was not inferior to Humphries. For elegance of position, cool and prompt judgment, fortitude of manner, and force of blow, however, he was thought much inferior. He wanted also that manly bearing which was so apparent in Humphries, whose confidence rendered him so apparently indifferent of self. In throwing, Mendoza, to the great surprise of many, had the advantage.
Humphries’ attitudes were of the most manly and tasteful description, and, even in the most trying moments of the fight, his postures were considered graceful. His intellectual capacity had rendered him more acquainted with the properties of the human frame than pugilists in general; and his habits of life had tended to make him more conversant and attractive in society than fighting men perhaps think essentially necessary. His manners were conciliatory, and he endeavoured through life to enact the gentleman. His friends were materially increased by such conduct.
It was extremely difficult to decide which was the neatest pugilist; so much activity, science, elegance, and courage, were displayed upon both sides, though extremely different as to character and manner: but it appeared that Humphries, in the defensive position, although he kept his adversary at a distance by extending his arms, lost that celerity and power which his hits might have possessed had his arms been nearer his body.
Thenceforward, the pugilistic career of Humphries was a fruitless attempt to prevent his victor’s wreath from falling into the hands and adorning the brow of his able Israelitish rival. Twice did he do all that man can do—his best—to stem the advancing tide of fate, but in vain. How he struggled is already written in the memoir of Mendoza. Humphries lived for many years after their last contest (September 29th, 1790), and died in respectable circumstances, his calling being that of a coal-merchant in the Adelphi, Strand.