CHAPTER II.
THOMAS MOLINEAUX (THE COLOURED COMPETITOR FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP)—1810–1815.
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.”
THE FIGHT.
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.
THE FIGHT.
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,—
Leicester, February 10th, 1813.
“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.
“The mark of X THOS. MOLINEAUX.”
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:—
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—It was the opinion of the most experienced pugilists that such a set-to was never before witnessed; one “was afraid, and the other dared not,” and two minutes were trifled away in this sort of caricaturing, when Carter touched Molineaux on the mouth, who genteelly returned it. They closed, and the man of colour was thrown. It would be absurd to detail by way of rounds any more of this worst of fights, though we readily admit that Carter was the best man after the battle began, and continued so throughout the fight. Molineaux was wretched in the extreme, and at one time bolted from his second, and had it not been for Colonel and Captain Barclay, he would never have returned to the scratch, he wished so much to get away. At another period he was down on one knee, and with both hands laid fast hold of the ropes, and being hit in this situation, he roared out lustily “Foul!” but he was given to understand that, by the laws of boxing, no one is considered down “without having both knees on the ground, with either one or both hands also.” In the fifteenth round he was so terrified that, upon being driven to one corner of the ring, he cried out lamentably, “Oh dear! oh dear! murder!” a little previous to which, he declared Carter “had bit him in the neck!” and soon afterwards he repeated, “there, he has bit me again!” and it was with great difficulty Joe Ward could persuade him that it was the knuckles of Carter, and not his mouth. This the once brave competitor of the champion! impossible! Could he have thus degenerated? Twenty-five rounds occurred, in which coaxing, persuading, dramming, and threatening, were resorted to, in order to make the man of colour perform something like fighting. But to the great astonishment of all the spectators, when Molineaux was dead beat, Carter fainted, and dropped his head as he sat on the knee of his second. With all the exertions of Richmond, it seems, he could not arouse Carter from his lethargic state, and he thus lost the battle in not coming to time. His fame, it is urged, was not only tarnished from this circumstance, but even his integrity called into question. The above battle created universal dissatisfaction.
Poor Bob Gregson, agitated beyond description at seeing Lancashire (as he considered) thus trampled on with disgrace, went up to Carter, exclaiming, “Jack, Jack, what be’est thee at? get up and fight, man!” But Bob might as well have sung psalms to a dead horse. Carter, some little time afterwards raised his head, feebly observing, “Stop a bit! stop a bit!” And whether by accident, design, or with an intent to conclude this farce in style we are not in the secret to unfold, but a disciple of Esculapius stepped up, and in the twinkling of an eye pulled out his lancet, and bled Carter, to the great astonishment of his friends and the spectators in general; thus preventing, even had any inclination remained on the side of Carter to have renewed the fight. The latter’s clothes had hitherto been preserved, during the fight, in the chariot of a man of distinction, but who, it is said, was so disgusted with the scene before him, that he instantly ordered them to be thrown out with disdain and contempt. In once more taking a slight view of the man of colour, whatever certainty there might have been of Molineaux being a sound man at the core, it is strongly urged that if his heart had been a good one, he must have won the first battle with the champion; however, be that as it may, since that period he has been dissipated to excess, completely gone off in constitution, and broken winded. One improvement appeared to have taken place: he was more temperate in setting-to, but he did not like to face his man, and it required no small ingenuity to get him into the ring.
POETIC RETORT
Between a “Town” and “Country Amateur” at Oxford; or, in the phrase of the day, Between a “Johnny Raw” and a “Knowing One!”
On witnessing Carter faint away when he had won the battle, but who contrived to lose the purse, in his contest with Molineaux.
Says Jack to Bob, “Look, poor Carter’s hipp’d!”
“Hipp’d, be d——d!” cries Bob, “the R——’s tipp’d!”
“No, no,” quoth Jack, “they put in too hard pats:”
“Put in,” echoes Bob, “they’ve put in—the flats!”
With this specimen of “the historian’s” style we dismiss the affair of Carter and Molineaux. We shall hear more of the so-called “Lancashire hero,” when we come to the life of Tom Spring in the next Period.
Molineaux once more started on a tour, extending it this time to Scotland, where he exhibited sparring in the principal towns. The black, like most of his race, had a childish propensity for gaiety, and a strong passion for dress, was amorously inclined, and devoted himself by turns to Bacchus and Venus. Of course the Black Samson met with many mercenary Dalilahs, and—
“Plung’d
In general riot, melted down his youth
In different beds of lust, and never learn’d
The icy precepts of respect, but follow’d
The sugar’d game before him.”
With dress of the best quality and fashion, the man of colour soon appeared a swell of the first magnitude. Maintaining, then, the highest secondary rank as a boxer, he dashed about regardless of future consequences to his milling fame. Pleasure was the order of the day with him, and the stews tended not only to ease him of his cash, but soon undermined that overwhelming power and pluck so conspicuously displayed in his terrible combats with the mighty Cribb. The consequences of such a line of conduct need be scarcely dwelt on; the iron frame of the black soon seriously felt the dilapidating effects of intemperance. Yet, notwithstanding this visible falling off, Molineaux with all the drawbacks of enervating excess, was not to be beaten off hand, and none but a boxer of more than common skill and strength seemed likely to accomplish this task.
Fuller, a clever and well-informed man, who had beaten Bill Jay, and whose character for science and game entitled him to every consideration, fancied he was able to contend with this renowned milling hero, and the amateurs of Scotland, in order to facilitate a match between them, entered into a subscription purse of 100 guineas, to be fought in a forty feet ring. Early in the morning, on the day appointed for the above trial of skill to be decided, Friday, the 27th May, 1814, at Bishopstorff, Paisley, Ayrshire, the fancy were in motion. Numerous vehicles of all descriptions were seen rattling along the road to the scene of action, and scampering pedestrians out of number, to witness the novelty of a prize-mill in Scotland. Some thousands of spectators formed the ring, and upwards of one hundred carriages belonging to gentlemen were upon the ground. Molineaux was seconded by Carter, and Fuller had the veteran Joe Ward and George Cooper. Five to four on the black. At one o’clock the ceremony of shaking hands was performed, and the men set-to. Both the combatants displayed good science, but the blows of Fuller, although he put in several with much dexterity, appeared more showy than effective. However, on Fuller’s planting a desperate ribber, Joe Ward ironically observed, that “if he continued to hit his man so hard, they should all be baulked, and the fight be over too soon.” The battle had continued only eight minutes, when the sheriff of Renfrewshire, attended by constables, entered the ring, and put a stop to it in the fourth round. Both the combatants appeared much chagrined, particularly Molineaux, who vauntingly declared, “had he foreseen such an interruption, he would have finished off his opponent before the arrival of the sheriff.” The man of colour, it seems, was so confident of victory, that previous to the fight, he betted five to two he drew first blood—this bet he won; and also two to one he floored Fuller first—the latter was not decided. Fuller expressed himself ready to settle the matter the next day, but Molineaux insisted the fight should not take place till the following Tuesday.
The above arrangement was agreed to, and on Tuesday, May 31, they again met at Auchineux, twelve miles from Glasgow. Fuller was attended by Ward and Cooper, Molineaux by an Irish sergeant, of the name of Hailward, assisted by a private. The umpires were Captain Cadogan and Mr. George Stirling, and in case of any dispute, Mr. Graham, of Guntmaux, as the referee. This battle is without parallel. There is nothing like it in the annals of pugilism. It is thus described by the veteran Joe Ward, from whom the account given in “Boxiana” was gathered, and which we here reprint:—
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—Fuller displayed some good positions, and convinced the spectators that he was a scientific boxer. His guard was firm and imposing, and he seemed confident of success. They sparred a considerable time, with good skill, before any punishment was exhibited; at length Fuller, by a tremendous hit, drew the cork of his antagonist. Molineaux, upon the claret making its appearance, became rather impetuous, and attacked Fuller fiercely; but the latter stopped with much adroitness, and gave some heavy nobbing returns. A desperate rally now took place, during which severe milling was dealt out on both sides; the men broke away, and again resorted to sparring. Fuller’s nose was much peppered, and the crimson flowed abundantly. In short, this unprecedented round was filled with rallies, recoveries, retreating, following each other alternately round the ring, stopping and hitting with various success, and both exhausted by turns, till at length Molineaux was levelled by a tremendous blow, and the round finished after a lapse of twenty-eight minutes.
2.—To describe anything like the various changes which occurred during this set-to would fill the space of an ordinary report of a whole fight. Suffice it to observe, that almost every “dodge” of the milling art was resorted to, from beginning to end. The skill, practice, and experience of both the combatants were made use of to the best advantage. Fuller proved himself a boxer of more than ordinary science and game. Molineaux was convinced he had got a troublesome customer to deal with, who required serving out in a masterly style before he could be satisfied. In fact, the strength of the man of colour seemed materially deteriorated as compared with his former exhibitions, when he used to hit his men away from him, and levelled his opponent with the most perfect sang froid. The severe blows of Fuller, who stuck close to Molineaux, made him wince again. The Black appeared much exhausted from the great portion required to give, and heartily tired of what he had to take. The claret was liberally tapped on both sides, and as regarded Fuller, stauncher game was never displayed by any pugilist whatever. Upon the whole, it was a truly singular fight, and the people of Scotland witnessed the most unique specimen of English prize-fighting. In sixty-eight minutes two rounds only had taken place.
The contest terminated in rather a singular manner. Molineaux asserted that “Joe Ward had behaved foul, in pulling Fuller down, when he was much distressed, and had been beaten all over the ring in a rally; and that this prevented him from putting in a decisive blow.” The umpires decided it was so, and the purse was accordingly awarded to Molineaux. The latter did not appear anything like the once tremendous competitor of Cribb; on the contrary, instead of going boldly up to his man, he was always shy, and tried to win by tiring out his man. Molineaux fought at the head, Fuller at the body. Notwithstanding the supposed falling off of the man of colour, it was considered great temerity on the part of Fuller to enter the lists with Molineaux. The conduct of Fuller in this fight gave such general satisfaction, that a purse of 50 guineas, which had been subscribed for at the match between Cooper and Carter, in consequence of that battle not taking place, was presented to Fuller.
Molineaux now attracted great attention in Scotland, and a match was at length made between him and George Cooper, a boxer of superior talent. On the 11th of March, 1815, these first-rate heroes of the fist met at Corset Hill, in Lanarkshire. In twenty minutes Molineaux was defeated. (See life of George Cooper, post, Chapter IV).
Intemperance was the ruin of Molineaux; and, it would seem, that within a brief period his fame had become so tarnished, that every strong commoner entertained an idea that he could serve out the once formidable man of colour, as the following anecdote will evince. During Molineaux’s provincial tour of 1813, he visited Derby, to give the natives an exhibition of his milling accomplishments. The competitor of Cribb was well attended, and several Johnny Raws had the temerity to have a taste with the Black; but these, possessing little more than strength and courage, soon found themselves inadequate to contend against the science of Molineaux, and therefore wisely laid down the gloves. Not so a country pugilist of the name of Abraham Denston, possessing Herculean strength, and the stature of a giant, added to which his fame was well abroad in these parts for milling, in which none dared to oppose him. Abraham had rather “crept into favour with himself,” and entertained an idea that, with the mufflers, he should be able to serve out the nigger in style, and increase his renown as a miller. Great things were expected from the countryman; and considerable interest was excited among the spectators on their setting-to. But, unfortunately for Abraham, he had calculated somewhat too hastily upon his great size and strength, and two rallies with the Black were quite enough to convince him of his error. Molineaux punished the chaw-bacon most severely for his self-conceit, and, with one of his favourite left-handed lunges, gave him such a remembrancer under his left eye, that the claret flew in all directions, and the big ’un found his way to the ground, saluting it roughly with his seat of honour. The conceit of Abraham now evaporated, and he hastily retired amidst the laughter of the audience.
From Scotland, Molineaux went on a sparring tour into Ireland; and at the latter end of the year 1817, he was travelling over the northern parts of that country, teaching the stick fighting natives the use of their fists; an accomplishment which might save many a jury the trouble of a trial ending in a verdict of manslaughter or even of murder. But the sun of his prosperity was set; and according to an obituary sketch (given in the Sporting Magazine, vol. ii., p. 230, 1818), he was dependent for bare existence on the humanity of two coloured compatriots, serving in the 77th regiment then quartered at Galway. He expired in the band-room of that regiment, on the 4th of August, 1818, a wasted skeleton, the mere shadow of his former self. For the last four years he strolled about the country. Intemperance, and its sure follower disease, brought down the once formidable gladiator to a mere anatomy, and he latterly declined to fight the oft-defeated and gone-by Dan Dogherty. Molineaux was illiterate and ostentatious, but good-tempered, liberal, and generous to a fault. Fond of gay life, fine clothes, and amorous to the extreme, he deluded himself with the idea that his strength of constitution was proof against excesses. Alas! poor Molineaux found out the vanity of his conceited boast, and repented, but too late, his folly. Peace be to his manes! he was a brave but reckless and inconsiderate man, on whose integrity and straightforwardness none who knew him ever cast a slur; nevertheless he was the worst of fools, inasmuch as he sacrificed fame, fortune, and life; excusing himself by the absurd plea, that “he was a fool to no one but himself.”
