CHAPTER IX.
JOHN PALMER, KNOWN IN THE P. R. AS “JACK SCROGGINS”—1803–1822.
To whom this hardy little hero, who so long performed “clown to the ring,” was indebted for his grotesque sobriquet, is a point upon which history is silent, nor can its elucidation be expected, even from the editor of “Notes and Queries,” assisted by his staff of contributors. There was, however, a popular comic song by George Colman the Younger, in which the loves of Giles Scroggins and Molly Brown were involved with “a horrible” ghost story, and possibly the mere oddity of the name suggested itself as an alias for this eccentric pugilist.
John Palmer was born, December 31, 1787, near New Cross, Deptford. It should seem that as Hercules in his cradle betook himself to serpent strangling, by way of prefiguring his future monster-destroying propensities, so Jack was pugilistic from his cradle; and, although not an ill-natured lad, was continually fighting the boys of New Cross, till his victories were so numerous, that he was considered as the cock of the walk. At a more advanced age he went to live as a servant on the farm of Mr. Giblett (the great butcher of Bond Street), at Kilburn. Here he had frequent turns-up with the hardy race of navigators belonging to the Paddington Canal, and here he first received the name of “Scroggins,” which continued with him throughout his services in the navy, and stuck to him to the end of his boxing career. The oddity of this nickname was merited by a corresponding grotesquerie of personal gesture and appearance. In height only five feet four inches, in weight hard upon eleven stone, “his appearance when stripped,” says Boxiana, “is not unlike the stump of a large tree, and from his loins upwards he looks like a man of fourteen stone.” Add to this, much native humour, the antics of a merryman, undaunted courage, and a love of riotous fun, and the reader will admit that the comic lyric poet of Bell’s Life in London could not have chosen a better known or more comic public character than “Ould Jack”—or, after his departure for another world of spirits beyond the grave, “Ould Jack’s Ghost”—for the vehicle of his fancy facetiæ. What follows here is a resumé of the introductory pages of the memoir of Scroggins in “Boxiana.”
JOHN PALMER (“Jack Scroggins”).
From a Portrait by G. Sharples, 1819.
In May, 1803, when sixteen years old, he was ill-treated by one Bill Walters, at the sign of the Waggon and Horses, at Brentford. Walters was a full grown man, possessing strength and some knowledge of milling, but Jack was not easily to be intimidated, and an immediate turn-up was the result, in a field near the above inn. The battle continued upwards of an hour, when Scroggy was proclaimed the victor. Jem Belcher witnessed the mill, and praised Scroggy for the hardy courage he displayed.
Not long after this occurrence, Scroggins dined at a club-feast, at the sign of the Swan, Sunbury Common. The harmony of the company experienced great interruption from the improper conduct of a fellow named Sam Beak, better known as the “Bully of Harrow.” His name was a sort of terror to all present, and the company would have been compelled to endure his insolence for the remainder of the evening, had it not been for the pluck of little Scroggy, who insisted upon his quitting the room. The threat produced a regular fight out of doors, and after a severe battle for nearly an hour, Beak was glad to give in.
Scroggins also fought a brick-maker, weighing thirteen stone, near the sign of the Fox and Goose, at Appleton, near Harrow-on-the-Hill. It was thought by the spectators, from the great disproportion between the combatants, that little Scroggy must ultimately be annihilated; but the smashing activity of Jack reduced the brick-maker to his own pitch, when he finished him off in quick time.
A navigator, known by the appellation of Long Will, fought with Scroggins near Harrow. It was a desperate battle, and contested with alternate success for a long time, till victory crowned the exertions of our little hero.
At Cowley, near Uxbridge, Scroggins entered the lists with Burke Smith, denominated the second Robin Hood, from his attachment to deer, a man of great activity, and distinguished for his great jumps over the canal. In the hands of Scroggins he was soon glad to acknowledge he was defeated.
Billy Lee, the gipsy, had a desperate set-to with Scroggins, at Kilburn, in the year 1804. The bruising qualities of the gipsy were well known in the neighbourhood of Paddington; but Scroggins not only nobbed him severely, but punished his body in such a hammering style that he hastily relinquished the contest, acknowledging the superiority and goodness of our hero.
By moonlight, at Kilburn, between twelve and one o’clock on a Friday night, a chap of the name of Blinko, otherwise designated as “No Nose!” had a turn-up with Scroggins, but the severity “No Nose” met with, in the course of a few rounds, induced him to give in. Upon being shown Scroggins the next day, he said he was not the same he fought with, but would fight him for the whole of his week’s wages on the next Sunday morning; but, when the time arrived, “No Nose” was not to be found.
A strong athletic farmer’s man, of the name of Bill King, was also beaten by Scroggins, at Sandford Green, near Harrow.
At Appleton, after a very severe battle, Jack Matney surrendered to the conquering arm of Scroggins.
It was owing to the following circumstance that our hero was compelled to leave milling on land, to fight the battles of his country at sea, by entering into the navy. In a row with one Ellis, a constable, at Sandford Green, the representative of the law, it appears, felt rather heavily the indignation of Scroggins. In consequence of which turn-up, an application was made to the magistrate (Dr. Glasse), when our hero was depicted in such terrible colours, that a press-gang of seventeen was considered necessary to convey him in safety out of the neighbourhood.
On the Point Beach at Portsmouth, Happy Jack, the terror of that then uproarious seaport (so termed from the numerous conquests he had obtained over various Jack-tars), was, in the presence of some thousands, wofully cut down from the severe punishment he received in combat with Scroggins; Happy Jack, for once in his life, being made miserable by defeat.
During the time Scroggins was on board the Argo, the ship was a scene of milling adventures, and, it should seem, when off duty, his leisure was filled up in boxing.
Before our hero was suffered to realise the title of the Champion of the Argo, the best men in the ship were pitted against him; but it would be beneath the dignity of our history to record the undistinguished names of the mere commoners who fell beneath the conquering arm of Scroggy, who, notwithstanding his pugilistic penchant, was the life and soul of the ship, and as remarkable for his readiness to assist a weaker messmate as to promote the general mirth of the crew. His practical jokes and general good humour were long the standing talk of the Argo’s galley. Toogood, a man of colour, of first-rate weight, and possessing prodigious strength, had a regular battle with our hero on board the Argo. Notwithstanding his athletic powers, Scroggins compelled him to strike his colours.
A caulker, a tall, strong, bony man, who came on board the Argo to make some repairs, presuming on his strength, took off the boiler and placed his frying-pan on the fire, in defiance of the whole mess. Scroggins at length appeared, and took the fellow’s frying-pan from off the fire. A fight was the immediate consequence; but the caulker was so often floored, met with such severe punishment, and was so chaffed by the whole ship’s crew, that out of revenge he complained to the captain of Scroggins, and our hero was compelled to stand and take two dozen lashes, or, what is called in the old sea phrase, a “dry holy-stoning.”
Scroggins had scarcely set his foot on terra firma, when he had a turn up with two dragoons, before the door of the Prince of Wales, at Woolwich. Notwithstanding the heavy force Scroggins had to contend against, our little hero bustled through it with so much true courage, that in the course of a few minutes he came off triumphant, having floored both the soldiers with ease.
Scroggins’ first battle in the ring, after his return from sea, was with Jack Boots (whose real name was Wilford), at Wilsden Green, in 1814, for one guinea a-side. It was a fight without training, and took place entirely from accident. Boots, it seems, had previously talked about fighting our hero, and both of them meeting at the above place to partake of the diversion afforded by Caleb Baldwin’s Bull, they instantly agreed to decide the dispute in question, upon Scroggins observing to Boots, “that he thought they were as capable of amusing the amateurs as the bull had done.” In consequence of this agreement the sports of the day closed, unexpectedly, with a regular mill. Upon the bull’s quitting the ground a ring was immediately formed, and Scroggins and Boots, without further preface, set-to. The latter was well known, from having fought several battles; but Scroggins was a complete stranger to the fighting circles. It was a punishing mill for sixty minutes, during which period the pantomimic tricks exhibited by Scroggins occasioned roars of laughter; he, however, displayed all the fortitude of a sailor bent on obtaining victory. Anything like a regular system of tactics he appeared to despise, and scrambled his way in to mill his adversary; but, notwithstanding this nondescript boxing, his hits were so tremendously sent home, that Boots could not resist their desperate effects. The friends of Boots perceiving that he must eventually lose, were about to resort to some manœuvres to prevent Scroggy from being proclaimed the conqueror. This conduct was observed by old Joe Ward, who was standing in a cart viewing the battle; and although he was severely afflicted with the rheumatism in both knees, he hastily jumped out and made for the ring, where he insisted upon fair play being observed between the combatants. Scroggins was ultimately declared the victor. The spirited conduct of the latter so pleased the amateurs that £4 were collected for him as a reward for his exertions.
The friends of Scroggins, not without reason, thought, from this specimen, that there was good stuff in him. Accordingly, Dolly Smith was selected as a game active boxer, and a good trial man for the hardy little tar. The battle was contested at Coombe Warren, on Wednesday, January 11, 1815, in a twenty feet roped ring, for 20 guineas a-side. Smith was seconded by Bill Cropley; Scroggins was attended by Richmond and Oliver.
Smith was well known as a boxer, and considered a good man, from his game battle with Dick Hares the previous year, on the same ground, while Scroggins was scarcely known to any person connected with the ring. He was viewed by the amateurs as an ambitious adventurer, a rough and daring commoner, opposed to science and experience; the betting was, in consequence, five to four upon Smith. The combatants in point of weight were nearly equal. The first round proved a good specimen of the whole fight; but the impetuosity of the “hardy tar” was so overwhelming, that the science of Smith, however well applied, could not prevent its conquering effects. Scroggins’ singular mode of attack astonished the spectators. Immediately on receiving a hit from his opponent, he went resolutely in to mill, protecting his head with his left hand over it, like a ship running in to attack a fort or shore battery, dealing out terrible punishment with his right hand, and thus took the lead and kept it, although he was opposed in the most manly and skilful style by Smith, who was not long in darkening one of the peepers of the sailor. Scroggins fought at the body with dogged determination, and had the advantage in a striking degree in throwing, Smith experiencing some severe cross-buttocks and desperate falls. Smith, too, was frequently out of distance, and hit over instead of punishing his adversary’s nob. It was a determined battle on both sides, and Smith did not disgrace his character in defeat. The blows of Scroggins were terrible, and he was never off his pins but once during the battle. For three quarters of an hour it was rattling hard fighting, at the end of which time Smith was so severely beaten, that he was compelled to cry “enough.”
The milling fame which Nosworthy had acquired by his conquest of the renowned but worn-out Dutch Sam, at Moulsey, on the 8th of December, 1814, rendered him an object of no small attraction in the milling sphere. Scroggins, it seems, was eager to make a dash; his ambition soared above commoners, and he viewed the victorious baker as a competitor worthy of his aspirings. Some little time, however, elapsed before he was accommodated; at last they met on the 6th of June, 1815, at Moulsey Hurst, for £50 a-side. Belcher and Gibbons seconded Scroggins; Cribb and Clark picked up Nosworthy. The patrons of pugilism mustered very strongly upon this occasion, and the “crusty coves” of the metropolis felt so confident the Master of the Rolls would gain the cause, that, the evening previous to the fight, they laid the odds of five to four with cheerfulness and alacrity. Nosworthy had won his late battle with such seeming ease, that no doubt was entertained by his admirers as to the issue. At one the men set-to.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—The notoriety Nosworthy had obtained in conquering the Jew phenomenon created intense interest, and every eye was on the combatants setting to. A short time elapsed in sparring, when Scroggins made a good hit; the Baker, in return, missed his aim. Some heavy milling occurred, when they closed, and both went down; Nosworthy undermost, Scroggins heavily on him. (Five to four on Scroggins already.)
2.—Nosworthy appeared bleeding at the scratch. Determined fighting was the order of this round; and both the men seemed bent upon proving each other’s courage. Hit for hit was returned with as much indifference as if their bodies were insensible to feeling; and, although both of them were frequently hit away, they returned to the attack. The rally was dreadful, and Nosworthy was, at length, sent down.
3.—It was evident to the spectators that Nosworthy had got enough to do to make a win of it. No flinching on either side. They stood up to each other like a couple of bull-dogs. Scroggins took the lead in gallant style, and punished his opponent in the most terrific manner, by planting a hit under Nosworthy’s ear, so powerfully, that he went down in a twinkling. Nosworthy’s importance was now all at an end; and two to one was offered on Scroggins, without the least hesitation.
4.—The game displayed by Nosworthy was admirable, but he had received so plentifully that his strength was somewhat reduced. Another terrific rally occurred, in which the superiority of Scroggins was manifest. He never left his adversary till he went down. (Three to one on Scroggins.)
5.—Nosworthy fought like a man, but the chance was decidedly against him. Scroggins had it all his own way in this round, and planted his hits with all the success of a first-rate fighter.
6.—Upon setting-to, Scroggins, with much severity, floored his antagonist.
7.—Nosworthy, notwithstanding the punishment he had sustained, came to the scratch full of pluck, and made a desperate effort to effect a change in his favour. He with much dexterity put in a tremendous blow upon one of Scroggins’s eye-lids; but the latter returned upon him severely, and had the best of the round.
8.—The head of Nosworthy seemed an easy mark for Scroggins, who peppered it with the utmost sang-froid. The baker was again floored.
9 to 15 and last.—The courage of Nosworthy was the admiration of the ring; he continued to fight till not a shadow of chance remained. He was so severely beaten in the fifteenth round, that, on time being called, he was unable to quit the knee of his second. The battle was over in eighteen minutes.
From this triumph Scroggins rose rapidly in the esteem of the best patrons of the ring, and was considered one of the best “little men” of the day. Scroggins was scarcely known up to this time to the scientific circles, and his rambling mode of fighting, so peculiar to himself, was rather the subject of mirth than serious discussion; still it was thought, in some instances, that he exhibited the prominent traits of the once terrific Hooper, a method that would not be denied from boring in, and, when once in, must triumph from its close and heavy half-arm deliveries, except in very rare instances. Although Nosworthy was defeated, it was viewed as a determined and skilful battle on his side. The springing hits of Scroggins were truly tremendous; and covering his head with his left hand, not only prevented him from receiving much punishment at going in, but gave him additional vigour in “smashing” his adversary.
Scroggins, it was urged, had offended several of his patrons, in consequence of his insisting on the whole of the battle-money of the late fight being given to him; and many of them felt determined, if possible, to select a scientific boxer who should take the fight out of our hero. Bill Eales was therefore chosen, and backed for this special purpose; but the knowing ones were much divided in opinion respecting their merits. Two of the most complete adepts in the ring took them under their care and training. The sporting knowledge of Gully rendered him at all times, in the ring or on the turf, no mean judge how to select his object, or to lay out his money; and Tom Belcher’s experience had taught him too well to know the value of success to give half a chance away: therefore when Gully selected Scroggins as his favourite, and Belcher preferred Eales as the most competent pugilist, it might not be inaptly observed that, “when Greek joins Greek, then comes the tug of war!” The backers, as well as boxers, it was certain, meant to win if possible. Eales was remarkable for his complete knowledge of the tactics of the milling art, and possessed the important advantages of height and length; while Scroggins was a nondescript, who disdained copying the mode of any pugilist, and fought after his own method, if method it could be termed.
On Saturday, August 26, 1815, near the George, at Kingston Hill, contiguous to Coombe Warren, this interesting and singular match was decided. At an early period in the morning the various roads leading to the scene of action were crowded beyond description. All sorts of vehicles were so close upon each other as to defy enumeration, and pedestrians were numerous beyond precedent. A great many high personages mustered on the turf, among whom Earl Yarmouth, Lord Fife, the Hon. Berkeley Craven, etc., were observed. A few minutes before one the men entered the ring, attended by their seconds. Tom Belcher and Harmer for Eales, Joe Ward and Oliver for Scroggins. The spectators were struck with the great contrast between the size of the combatants. Joe Ward tied the colours of the sailor, “true blue,” to the stakes, as a token of defiance; and Belcher knotted over it the “yellow-man,” as the colours of Eales. Both men looked well and confident. The ceremony of shaking hands being gone through, the set-to immediately commenced.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—From the scientific pretensions of Eales, it was generally expected the first round would clearly evince his superiority over his short and sturdy opponent. Scroggy, however, with the heroism of a British tar, boldly bore down to the assault. The display of Eales, although more scientific than effective, was much admired. Scroggins, equally anxious to commence the fight favourably, exhibited some degree of caution. Eales let go once or twice, but beyond effective distance; at length Scroggins put in a well directed blow under the left ear of his opponent, and, in closing, threw him. (The odds looked rather queer, and Scroggins was pronounced the favourite.)
2.—This round was decisively in favour of Scroggins, who exchanged blows with his opponent in the most gallant style of courage, till Eales was at length floored.
3.—Both the combatants were now alive to the interest of the scene in which they were engaged. A good rally occurred, and they returned and exchanged liberally; in the rally Eales went down.
4.—This was altogether a severe round. If Scroggins planted some severe blows, Eales returned punishment with equal courage. Strength was evidently on the side of Scroggins, who appeared merely getting into work; while Eales, on the contrary, showed symptoms of weak constitution, and fought till he again went down.
5.—Eales, notwithstanding his superior science, could not make that impression upon his opponent which was expected by his friends. He succeeded, it is true, in dexterously putting in some heavy blows, which the hardy tar was not a degree behind hand in returning, keeping up a battering rally, till his opponent went down.
6.—The strength of Eales did not keep pace with his judgment; he, nevertheless, evinced good pluck. This was a pantomimic round; altogether a piece of harlequin and clown antics all round the ring. Eales exerted his best skill to obtain a favourable turn, and a terrific rally ensued; but, in closing, the singularity of Scroggins excited roars of laughter. In throwing Eales he went down, then rolled over and over from his adversary till he rose upon his legs with all the comicality of a merry-andrew. Eales displayed weakness, and the odds were five to one on Scroggins.
7.—The combatants soon fought their way into a sharp rally, and the science of Eales prevailed to a certain extent, till Scroggins went down. (Applause.)
8.—A little discretion seemed necessary on both sides; some sparring occurred before a hit was made. Scroggins bobbed his head to avoid the threatened blows of his opponent, but returned fighting hand over head. The punishment was severe in this round, but reciprocal; however, Scroggins went down.
9.—The combatants attacked each other with the most determined resolution; anything like stopping was out of the question, till they both found themselves upon the ground. Eales could not lay claim to any advantage; neither had Scroggins the worst of it.
10.—Another equally desperate round followed, and a tremendous rally took place. The blows on both sides did great execution—punishment without stopping was the order of the day.
11.—Eales, notwithstanding the exertion of the last round, came to the scratch with considerable spirit, and showed off in such good style upon his opponent, that Scroggins again dropped his nob to escape the intended milling.
12.—The science of Eales was exhibited to great advantage, and Scroggins’ upper works seemed under the direction of a chancery practitioner, till he was sent under the ropes. The round was contested with much resolution on both sides.
13.—Eales again tried it on with some success by planting three severe hits on the nob of Scroggins; but the latter, determined not to be deficient in this part of the practice, liberally returned the favours which had been bestowed, and concluded the round by cross-buttocking his antagonist.
14.—The spectators now perceived that Scroggins was too much for Eales, as the strength of the latter was evidently on the decline every round. Scroggins punished Eales in all directions, and gave him three heavy hits on his nob, stomach, and neck. In closing, both down, but Scroggins fell upon Eales with a plunge enough to send the wind out of his body.
15.—The advantage of strength was completely on the side of Scroggins, who came up to the scratch smiling with confidence. Eales, although weak, fought with much spirit, and contested every inch of ground in a sharp rally, till Scroggins again threw and fell upon him.
16.—Eales endeavoured to gain time by cautious sparring, but Scroggins fought his way pell-mell into a sharp rally, and adopted the same mode as in the two preceding rounds, by tripping up his adversary, then falling upon him, depriving Eales of what little wind he had left.
17.—From the terrible heat of the sun, and the severe punishment both the combatants had experienced, it did not excite any degree of surprise to see them both at the scratch in an exhausted state. The little hardy tar, who had so often braved the changes of climate, seemed of the two least affected by the scorching rays that now poured so heavily upon their persons, and commenced fighting with great spirit. In closing, he peppered Eales considerably, and then cross-buttocked him. From this severe touch it was expected Eales would not be able to meet his man again.
18.—Eales, though much exhausted, again opposed his man, but the chance was decidedly against him; Scroggins threw him as before. (Any odds, but no takers.)
19.—The fight was nearly taken out of Eales; he was at the mercy of his antagonist. He was again thrown.
20.—Eales tottered to the scratch; but Scroggins gave him another cross-buttock as if a child had been opposed to his strength.
21.—The strength of Eales was quite reduced as to effective punishment; he, nevertheless, evinced good bottom, and did more than might have been expected from one so nearly beaten. Scroggins laid himself open, but Eales was too weak to turn it to account. In falling, Scroggins went down on him.
22.—It was now a horse to a hen, and Scroggins threw his man with apparent ease.
23.—Eales, to the astonishment of the spectators, once more appeared at the mark; but it was all up with him, and, by way of a quietus, Scroggins put in so tremendous a hit under his right ear that he was floored like a shot. He could not come again. The battle lasted twenty-two minutes.
Remarks.—Scroggins, in defeating a scientific boxer like Eales, completely astonished every amateur present. It was singular to observe the severity of his blows, and the punishment he administered to his opponent, though a man four inches taller than himself. Indeed our little hero was confidence itself. He assured his friends previous to the battle, that he would win it and nothing else. As an in-fighter, Eales had decidedly the best of his opponent; but his distances were so incorrect at times in out-fighting that numerous blows were thrown away. Some of the partizans of Eales attributed his loss to a severe hurt received on the back part of his head, in falling violently against the stakes; but the general opinion was that he lacked stamina to resist the finishing qualities of his antagonist. Eales was the heavier man, weighing eleven stone and half a pound. The bets never varied from the commencement of the fight; Scroggins was the favourite throughout. It was altogether a sharp contest, but a great deal of time was consumed in struggling to obtain the advantage in throwing. Notwithstanding the great superiority Eales had in standing over his opponent, united with his first-rate skill, he could not prevent Scroggins from going in. The admirers of science were much disappointed at the defeat of Eales.
From the success Scroggins had met with in his boxing career, and the numerous patrons of the art who rallied round him, he was enabled to commence publican. He accordingly opened the Waterman’s Arms, at Stangate, Lambeth, for the entertainment of the sporting world. His house in summer time was then pleasantly and attractively situated, commanding a view across the Thames, a part of the venerable Abbey, and Westminster Hall, with the old St. Stephen’s, and the Houses of Parliament, destroyed by fire in 1836. The name of John Scroggins, in large letters, at the top of the premises, might be seen from the other side of the river, operating as an inducement, not only to sporting characters, but to many an old shipmate of the Argo to call and give our hero a friendly turn. He did not want for company of every description. Peers and costermongers all contributed to make the pot boil; and, though Scroggy could not boast of the eloquence of a Cicero, yet he never suffered any of his customers to depart without receiving a ready answer. Life, in a variety of shapes, was to be seen under the roof of this little caterer for the public. In another part of his dwelling, the “saloon” was not the least importance in the picture. In ruder hands it was merely a skittle ground, but, under the taste and judgment displayed by “Scroggy,” it assumed a new and prominent feature. A gallery was now added to it, in addition to its being boarded over for the accommodation of spectators, and embellished with chandeliers. Every Tuesday night it was opened as a school for the art of self-defence; and here this remnant of the Olympic games was conducted with characteristic spirit to overflowing audiences. Scroggins himself usually appeared as a first-rate actor, assisted by several professionals, in most of these performances, to explain and render the art attainable. Here many a novice was floored for his temerity, by way of initiation, and as a sort of preparatory step to a better acquaintance with the practice and use of the gloves. The “tip” for admission was upon a reasonable scale, a single sixpence, and liquor to its estimated value was allowed. The sporting dinners given by Scroggins were excellent; and the Waterman’s Arms generally afforded amusement to those persons who were disposed to take a peep at the fun and frolic there exhibited, under the management of this comic hero of the ring.
Four months had scarcely elapsed when Scroggins again made his appearance in the prize-ring, but under very different circumstances. Having in his last combat defeated one of the most scientific boxers of the day, he was now called to enter the lists with a complete stranger, and a mere novice. It appears that Whittaker, from Denbigh in Yorkshire, an oilman by trade, had criticised the milling talents of Scroggins rather freely in company; which criticism resulted in a battle between them. The sum contended for was fifty guineas a side, and so much confidence did the Oilman feel upon entering the ring with Scroggins (notwithstanding his name was a sort of terror to pugilists in general), that he put down thirty-two guineas of the stakes out of his own pocket. Scroggins viewed Whittaker with so much indifference that he thought he had merely to take off his coat and win the fight. On Tuesday, the 9th of January, 1816, the fistic heroes met to decide this trial of skill at Moulsey Hurst. The Oilman was understood to be a clever and determined boxer, and so much interest was excited in the sporting circles that upwards of ten thousand persons witnessed the battle. The odds were two to one upon Scroggins, who was seconded by Oliver and Clark; Whittaker was attended by Cribb and Richmond. The men shook hands, and at one o’clock the set-to commenced:—
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—The amateurs expected more of a smashing than a scientific fight; Scroggins thought so little of his adversary, that he went to work sans ceremonie, but hit short with his left hand; the Oilman, in return, planted a slight nobber. The combatants fought their way into a rally, and some sharp blows were exchanged, at the end of which the claret was seen trickling down Whittaker’s face (no variation in the betting).
2.—The Oilman seemed full of pluck and eager for battle. Scroggins again hit short, but Whittaker improved on the opening, and made a sharp left-handed blow. Some desperate milling occurred; no want of spirit on either side. In closing much struggling took place, when the Oilman got away, but was ultimately sent down.
3.—This was altogether a well-fought round. If the Oilman did not show superlative science, he evinced qualities that convinced the spectators he was not to be beaten off hand. Scroggins attacked his adversary with much determination, and Whittaker showed equal resolution in a sharp rally, till he went down.
4.—Science was not the forte of the combatants; downright milling was the order of this round. Scroggins missed several hits, and did not appear to such advantage as was expected. The Oilman fought with much steadiness and composure, and his left hand, in some instances, was successful. The men rattled in a close, when the Oilman, with much dexterity, threw his adversary. The odds nevertheless were still high upon Scroggins.
5.—It was evident that Scroggins had paid little attention to training; and, at this early stage of the fight, his wind appeared rather treacherous. The Oilman attacked his adversary in good style, and had the superiority of hitting. Scroggins slipped in making a hit, but soon recovered himself upon one knee, and with much force levelled his man.
6.—Both combatants on their mettle; reciprocal fighting took place. The Oilman proved himself a much better man than he was thought to be. The odds fell to six to four.
7.—Scroggins came to the scratch much distressed and out of wind. The Oilman improved upon this circumstance and made several telling blows, ultimately finishing the round in his favour. (Applause.)
8.—Scroggins could not recover his wind; and, to avoid receiving punishment, resorted to some strange manœuvres to amuse his adversary. Whittaker was not to be deluded, and stuck to Scroggy hard and fast till he was thrown.
9.—Scroggins came up fresher, and attacked his opponent with unshrinking courage. A rally took place, which was desperately contested; but finished to the advantage of Scroggins, who darkened the Oilman’s left peeper.
10 and 11.—Both of these rounds were fought with manliness and resolution. It was plain Scroggins had considerable work to get through before victory would crown his efforts.
12.—Whittaker seemed more conspicuous for high game and wrestling capabilities than a sound acquaintance with the principles of the pugilistic art; he threw Scroggins in great style.
13 and 14.—Rather in favour of Scroggins.
15.—Here the Oilman showed to much advantage. He put in several blows, both down.
16 to 30.—Several trifling changes occurred during these rounds; in one of which Scroggins met with an accident in falling, which might have terminated the battle; but his fortitude as well as policy was so great, that, notwithstanding the excruciating pain he suffered, he did not even communicate the circumstance to his second, but fought on under considerable disadvantage. From the numerous antics and manœuvres he played off, he recovered himself in some degree, and succeeded in damaging his opponent’s remaining eye.
31 to 49 and last.—It is unnecessary to detail the whole of these rounds; suffice it to observe the Oilman contested the whole of them with resolution and true game. He fought till without the power of directing his blows. He resigned the contest with reluctance; urging his not being reduced in bodily strength. In fact, he was humanely persuaded by Mr. Jackson and his friends, to retire, as he had no chance whatever, from his defective vision. In other respects there is no doubt but he might have protracted the battle.
Remarks.-Scroggins had nearly given the chance away on this occasion by overweening self-conceit, and the contempt with which he viewed the pretensions of Whittaker. The victory indeed was more owing to his good fortune than to judgment. He laughed at the idea of training to beat a novice, and never left his home for a single night. In consequence of this neglect, he took an hour and sixteen minutes to beat Whittaker, which, had he been in good condition, it is presumed he might have accomplished in half an hour. Scroggins (almost too late) found out the fault he had committed from neglect of training. It was a fortunate moment for our hero when the Oilman was taken from the ground. The memorable defeat and ruin of Broughton ought always to operate as a useful lesson to all pugilists—more especially to conquerors—respecting their preparatory conduct. Scroggins had nearly fallen a victim to this blind confidence. His fame was tottering on a precipice. Scroggins too was extremely incorrect in his distances, but neither of the combatants fought upon the defensive. Whittaker was evidently the better wrestler, and Scroggy appeared more punished about his nob than in any other battle. Had not Scroggins succeeded in closing the remaining peeper of Whittaker, the termination might have been rather doubtful, as the latter was not seriously disabled in body nor distressed in wind. Though he retired from the ring a defeated man, it is but common justice to state that a gamer pugilist than Whittaker never quitted the field. Thirty pounds was collected on the ground by Mr. Jackson, as a reward for the bravery the loser had displayed. Notwithstanding the latter resigned the contest, he still entertained an opinion that Scroggins was not the best man, and attributed the chance going against him to his being a stranger to the tactics of the prize-ring.
From the rapid conquests he had obtained, Scroggins was at this period the envy of the boxing circles. His house was numerously attended; he was enjoying the fruits of peace and the reward of his victories; smoking his pipe with ease and pleasure, and laid up as it were in ordinary, resting from the fatigues of war. But peace was not the element in which Jack was seen to advantage; therefore, out of numerous challenges offered to him, he accepted one from a countryman of the name of Church, a native of Gloucester, who, it seems, “had heard of battles,” and thirsting to obtain fighting glory, had determined to lead “a dull inglorious life” no longer. He left Gloucester for the avowed purpose of challenging our hero; and Colonel (afterwards the Earl of) Berkeley, his patron, had so high an opinion of his qualifications, that he backed him for 100 guineas.
Church, it appears, had milled all the best men in Gloucestershire, was well known as a staunch man, was taller than his adversary, and possessed a hardy and erect frame. Upon the match being made he went into training near Enfield; during which period he gave proof that he was capable of performing no little in the milling way. Three countrymen called at the house where he resided, and rudely challenged him to fight. Church, shamefully careless about the engagement he was under, with more rashness than judgment, accepted their offer; fortune favoured him, for in a very short time, it was reported, he disposed of the whole three, and public rumour ran that he was likely to turn out a troublesome customer for Scroggins.
On Tuesday, August 20th, 1816, the men met, and Moulsey Hurst was once more the theatre of pugilistic display. Myriads of persons left the metropolis, in all directions, to view the renowned Scroggins, among whom were Lord Yarmouth, Colonel Berkeley, Captain Barclay, etc. Vehicles of all descriptions, from the barouche and four to the scavenger’s mud-cart, were in requisition at an early hour, to reach the destined spot; the blood-horse, in all the pride of high breeding, was galloping by all, and the more humble donkey and the spare nacker trotting and snorting along the road, to be up in time. Pedestrians of all ranks formed a moving scene, and by twelve o’clock many thousand persons crowded the Hurst. Church appeared first, and threw his hat into the ring; Scroggins shortly following his example. The former was seconded by Tom Belcher and Bill Gibbons, the latter by Cribb and Clark. At a quarter past one the men shook hands. Three to one on Scroggins. The battle lasted fifty-eight minutes, and fifty rounds took place, as follow:—
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—Scroggins, on setting-to, seemed anxious to be at work, but hit short. He, however, soon made up for this deficiency by giving his opponent two desperate facers, which produced the claret in a twinkling. Church seemed electrified by the severity of his hits, exchanged a few blows, turned round in confusion, and was ultimately sent down. (Three to one on Scroggins.)
2.—Church appeared at the scratch bleeding. Scroggins set-to determinedly, and soon showed his opponent the severe punishment he was likely to encounter, by putting in two severe blows, right and left, on his nob. Church again turned round confusedly, but drew the cork of his antagonist. Scroggins evinced his superiority, and finished this round decidedly in his favour, by sending his man down. In this early stage of the fight, the spectators made up their minds to the ultimate event, and four to one was offered.
3.—Church did not know what to do with his antagonist; he was quickly sent down by Scroggins, who held up both his hands.
4.—The position of Church was good, but there was nothing of the scientific boxer about him; nevertheless, he put in some good hits, and, in closing, both went down. Scroggins rolled over like a tumbler.
5.—This was rather a severe round, and, in closing, Church endeavoured to fib his opponent; both down.
6.—Scroggins went furiously in to mill his opponent, which he did most effectually, and sent Church down. Both their mugs began to show the effects of punishment.
7.—Scroggins seemed determined to finish his opponent, but twice hit short: he rushed in and took great liberties with his nob. Church again went down.
8.—Church appeared to have no notion of protecting his head from the attacks of his opponent. He not only received two desperate facers, but was punished severely at the ropes, and milled down.
9.—In this round Scroggins had it all his own way; he hit Church quite out of the ring. (Great applause.)
10.—Some good exchanges. In closing, both down, Church undermost.
11.—Church broke away from a close, and got into a rally, but he was at length sent to the ground.
12.—In favour of Church; he put in two good blows, but, in closing, both went down.
13.—Scroggins hit him quite round against the ropes, and Church was sent down.
14.—Scroggins put in a facer, and Church went down.
15.—Church made a hit and fell down. (Nineteen minutes.)
16.—Scroggins put in two facers, turned suddenly round with all the agility of a dancing master, and ended by flooring Church.
17.—Scroggins broke from a close, and exchanged some blows; but Church ultimately threw him.
18.—Church made one or two good stops, but was sent down.
19.—Scroggins milled his opponent in all directions without receiving any return, till Church went off his legs.
20.—Scroggins was the principal receiver in this round. In a close, both down.
21.—Scroggins, with the utmost sang froid, on setting-to floored his man, and stood over him with the utmost contempt.
22.—Scroggins measured his distance again well, put in a tremendous facer, and ultimately threw his opponent.
23.—Church felt for Scroggins’ nob twice, and threw him.
24.—Scroggins received a hit at going in, but, in closing, both went down.
25.—Church put in a facer, but Scroggins soon floored him.
26.—Church, with much severity, hit his opponent quite away from him, and had the best of the round. In closing, both went down.
27.—Church seemed in this round totally off his guard. Scroggins put in seven severe facers in rapid succession, till he sent Church down. (Twenty to one.)
28.—Scroggins determined to lose no time, pursued his advantage with the utmost spirit, dealing out punishment at every step. His rush was not to be resisted, and Church again went down.
29.—Church gave his opponent a check upon his nob as he was going in, but it did not ultimately prevent Scroggins from boring him to the ropes, and getting him down. (Any odds.)
30.—Church was completely on the taking system; the knowledge of giving he seemed totally ignorant of. A greater glutton was never seen, no common caterer could serve his inordinate appetite. Scroggins hit his adversary off his legs.
31.—Church only appeared as a mark to hit at. Stopping his adversary was out of the question; he again measured his length on the grass.
32.—Scroggins was truly conspicuous in this round. He did as he liked with his antagonist, till he sent him down.
33.—It was astonishing to see Church, considering the severe milling he had received, continue to face his man with such confidence. Ho had no chance whatever, except being knocked down.
34.—Church exchanged some blows in this round rather to his advantage, but almost laid himself down from exhaustion at the conclusion of it.
35.—Scroggins, in making a hit, literally pushed down his opponent.
36.—Church was hit down almost upon setting-to.
37.—Scroggins, eager to put a finishing stroke to this game article, rushed in furiously and sent him down.
38.—Church’s face looked deplorable; he received three tremendous blows. Scroggins put in also a severe body blow with his left hand, when Church as usual went down.
39.—The battle might be said to be at an end, but Church’s game was not yet exhausted. Scroggins again sent his man down.
40.—Scroggins ran in to his adversary like a bull, head foremost, at his body, and caught hold of the waistband of his breeches, but instantly recollecting, as it were, that he had committed an error, he slid his hands upwards. It might have been accidental, but the seconds of Church considering such an attack contrary to the established rules of fighting, thought that to fulfil their duty they ought to take their man out of the ring. The umpires, however, passed it over, and thus, fortunately for Scroggins, saved him from the disagreeable circumstance of a wrangle, or perhaps making a drawn battle of it.
41.—Though Church could not win, yet he now and then felt for his antagonist’s nob sharply, and in this round he put in a severe facer, but Scroggins sent him down.
42.—Nothing. Church went down upon setting-to.
43.—Scroggins again nobbed his opponent, and, to add to the severity of the punishment, Church received a severe body blow before he found his way to the grass.
44.—Scroggins hit his adversary cleanly down, and it was apprehended that he would not be able to come again; indeed, his backer wished him to desist from the contest. The seconds of Scroggins took the hint, and threw up their hats in the air as the token of victory. The outer ring immediately gave way, but Church insisted upon fighting longer, and the
45th round commenced during this confusion. The spirit of Church was good, but his strength could not keep pace with his wishes. Scroggins was awake that victory was certain, and sent his adversary down in quick time.
46.—Church was now going very fast, and was sent down upon setting-to.
47.—The mortification of surrender urged Church to continue the battle while he was able to stand upon his legs; but it was all up, and he was only receiving unnecessary punishment, being sent down every round.
48.—Church went down completely exhausted.
49.—Notwithstanding the reduced state of Church, he made a couple of hits, but it was only to be sent down.
50 and last.—On coming to the scratch he was floored, sans ceremonie, and not able to meet his man any more. He was led out of the ring dreadfully beaten.
Remarks.—A gamer man never entered the ring than Church; he proved himself a complete taker, but as to the winning consequences of giving he had much to learn. Scroggins was completely at home; cautious of himself, his judgment was excellent in perceiving when his antagonist was exhausted, and going in promptly to finish him off. He, however, gave a chance away, by running head foremost at his opponent’s body, a proceeding which at the present day would have lost him the battle. Scroggins, however, did not win this fight without considerable punishment about the nob, one of his eyes being nearly closed, and his face much beaten. He never exhibited anything like such marks before. Church sprained his ankle severely in the third round; and had not this accident occurred, he might have stood up much better, perhaps with more chance of ultimate success. His confidence never deserted him throughout the battle; and he talked to his second between every round of his capabilities to continue the contest. After the great success of Scroggins in the two first rounds, when he in fact reduced winning almost to a certainty, many of the fancy expressed some little astonishment that fifty-eight minutes should elapse before Scroggins was able to send his man out of the ring. Mr. Jackson collected £20 to reward the bravery of Church.
The friends of Tom Hall (known as the Isle of Wight Hall), were extremely anxious to match him with Scroggins for 200 guineas a-side; but, after four meetings upon the subject, the last of which was held at the Mansion House Coffee House, February, 1817, the partizans of Hall offered to pay half the deposit between Scroggins and Turner, in order to induce the former to relinquish that match. Hall also proposed to add ten pounds which had been forfeited to him in a previous instance, to the battle-money; but the offers were declined. Scroggins had no objection to fight Hall, provided he weighed no more than eleven stone. However, it was the general opinion among the best judges of pugilism that Hall was too heavy for our hero.
After six months’ interval, Scroggins again entered the prize ring. His antagonist on this occasion was the afterwards celebrated Ned Turner. The affair came off in a field near Hayes Turnpike, Middlesex, on Wednesday, March 26, 1817; Scroggins fighting Turner £100 against £50. This contest ended in a draw, the particulars of which will be found in the memoir of Ned Turner, ante, p. 374.
A second match was afterwards made on the 10th of June, 1817, Scroggins fighting Turner £120 against £80.
Upon a review of the merits of the drawn battle above mentioned, some doubts appeared to exist in the minds of the backers of Scroggins respecting the result of the coming fight. The following contest, however, which took place ad interim, not only tended to remove the doubts in question, but operated so strongly towards increasing their former confidence in Scroggins as to raise the odds to three to one that he was the victor.
A meeting was held at Tom Oliver’s house in Peter Street, Westminster, on Friday, May 2, 1817, to complete the stakes for the match between Sutton and Ned Painter. Several pugilists were present upon this occasion, among whom were Scroggins, Carter, West Country Dick, Ballard, Purcell, etc. Scroggy having drank freely during the evening above stairs, descended into the parlour and ridiculed Dick upon his defeat by Randall. He also offered to bet two to one upon himself against Turner, which was immediately accepted by Richmond; and, upon the latter’s taking up the money to deposit in some person’s hands, Scroggins seized hold of the man of colour. Scroggins now gave some ludicrous imitations of Richmond’s mode of milling, calling him everything but a good one, and offered to fight the man of colour in the room for any sum. The latter was much pressed to give Scroggins a thrashing for his improper conduct, but Richmond kept his temper, although called a cur for suffering such a little fellow to insult and triumph over him. Richmond was not to be moved from his resolution, and very properly observed, “That as Scroggins was under an engagement to fight Turner, the sporting world should not experience a disappointment from his disabling the man from fulfilling his agreement.” This conduct on the part of Richmond was admitted to be handsome and manly by all present. Scroggins, however, would not be denied—fight he would with somebody, and to accommodate his penchant, a match was proposed between him and young Fisher for twenty guineas a-side, to be decided instantly, the latter having gallantly beaten the rough and hardy Crockey, before the Grand Duke of Russia, at Coombe Warren. Previously, however, the opinion of Mr. Jackson was taken respecting the propriety of Scroggins fighting, considering his engagement with Turner. Mr. J. thought he ought not. Scroggins overruled this objection, by declaring that nothing should hinder him from having a mill, provided Mr. Farmer would make the match. Shelton, in conjunction with some other persons, then put down the money for Fisher. The large room at the back of the premises was lighted up, the scratch made, bottles, lemons, etc., produced; the spectators retired to each end of the room, and the door was locked. Mr. Jackson acted as umpire. Carter and Clark attended Scroggins; Richmond and a novice waited upon Fisher. Three to two on Scroggins. The parties shook hands—half minute time was allowed, and sixteen minutes before twelve o’clock at night the battle commenced. More spirited betting or greater order never was observed at Moulsey, Shepperton, or Coombe Wood.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—On setting-to mischief being meant, little science was displayed between the combatants; Fisher put in a slight body hit. Scroggins reeled in after his usual mode, and both went to work slap bang—some sharp nobbers were exchanged, and, in closing, both down, Scroggy undermost. (“Well done, Fisher!”)
2.—Fisher, full of gaiety, again hit, first on the body, and seemed resolutely determined upon following up his success. They both nobbed each other smartly; and in struggling to obtain the throw, Scroggy, as before, was undermost.
3.—Scroggins, from the effects of lushing, came quite noisy to the scratch, and laughing at Fisher, told him if he could hit no harder than he had done, he must lose it, and he (Scroggins) would soon convince him of that fact. Fisher, not dismayed by this threat, not only fought with his opponent manfully, but threw him completely on his face. (“Go it, Fisher!”)
4.—This was a good round, and Fisher pelted away so sharply, that Scroggy seemed rather sobered by the contact. Ceremony was out of the question, hit for hit was reciprocally given, till Fisher slipped and went down. (Two to one on Scroggy was vociferated by his partisans.)
5.—Fisher came to the scratch in the most lively style, and set-to with as much coolness as if he had been fighting a mere commoner. They soon closed, Fisher undermost.
6.—Nothing but milling was the order of this round; both down.
7.—Scroggins rushed at his opponent with the impetuosity of a bull-dog, and made his one-two tell upon Fisher’s mug: the latter stood to him like bricks, and contended gamely till he found himself undermost in the throw. (This change on the part of Scroggy brought offers forward of four to one in his favour.)
8.—Fisher went to work manfully, and Scroggins slipped down from a hit, but, instantly recovering himself, instead of finishing the round, he rushed at Fisher, when some sharp blows were exchanged till both went down.
9.—Fisher with the utmost ease sent Scroggy down. (“Bravo, Fisher—stick to him, my lad!”)
10.—One of Scroggins’s peepers seemed a little damaged, but his canvas appeared so impenetrable that the claret scorned to make its appearance. Both again down; but Scroggins, while on the knee of his second, gave two or three loud hems, as if to improve his wind.
11.—This was a truly punishing round. Fisher hit Scroggins slightly down—he was up again in a twinkling, and most furiously went in to mill his opponent; he was, however, ultimately sent down.
12.—Fisher put in a good facer; but, in closing, both down.
13.—As yet, nothing was the matter with Fisher, and considering Scroggins was three parts groggy upon commencing the fight, he convinced those around him what a fine constitution he possessed. Fisher was also viewed with admiration—and making allowance for his “greenness” in contending with a pugilist at the top of the tree, he proved himself an ugly customer for this modern Dutch Sam. in this round Fisher had the best decidedly.
14.—Scroggins went down in closing, but the advantage was on his side. When on his second’s knee, he sneeringly observed to Fisher, that “he could not hit hard enough; he had better give it in, as a few more of his hits must finish him.”
15 to 17.—Nothing material on either side.
18.—In this round Scroggy was floored. Great applause to Fisher.
19 to 23.—Though Scroggins was the favourite, yet many present considered the event at this stage of the fight doubtful. (Upon several offers being made, Scroggy observed, “Aye, bet away, gentlemen, I can win it like fun. I lay two to one on myself.”)
24 to 29.—Fisher appeared still fresh, and notwithstanding the desperate rushing forward of Scroggins to take the fight out of him, he never flinched from his man, but fought with Scroggins like a game-cock. At the conclusion of this round, which was in favour of the cove of Stangate, he exclaimed with the utmost confidence, “Who can beat me, alive? I can mill any of ’em!”
30 to 32.—Scroggins had the worst of these rounds. He appeared rather distressed, and from the effects of the grog reeled about. Fisher exchanged many blows to his advantage.
33.—This round was complete hammering. Scroggins wanted to put an end to the fight, and fought his way in with all the determination of a lion. His blows were terrific—and although he went down from a sharp hit, he instantly jumped up again and milled Fisher furiously till he got him down. Carter now offered a guinea to half-a-crown. “Bravo, Scroggy—he is an astonishing fellow!” was the general cry.
34 to 36.—Well contested on both sides: but in the latter round Fisher missed putting in a blow, that might have materially turned the fight in his favour. He had hit Scroggins away from him twice, near the corner of the room, that laid him open, and instead of following up the chance, he retreated and got sent down. Scroggins again loudly hemmed, upon his second’s knee, for wind.
37.—Scroggins sent down Fisher in a twinkling. This blow was on the face, and from its tremendous severity, his countenance changed. Scroggins shouted with glee, and offered to bet anything.
38.—Fisher again went down from a slight hit. Scroggins, with much contempt and confidence, “What do you think of that? I’ll bet a hundred to one, I’ll win it.”
39 to 42.—Fisher fought manfully, but a change had taken place; he showed signs of weakness, and went down in all these rounds. (£250 to £100 on Scroggy, and his partisans roared with delight.)
43.—Scroggins now began to finish in high style, and dealt out some tremendous punishment. (Guinea to a shilling was offered, but not taken.)
44 and last.—Fisher came to the scratch much distressed, and Scroggins again milled him down. On time being called, Fisher could not rise from his second’s knee, being very faint and rather sick, upon which Scroggins was declared the conqueror. The battle lasted forty-one minutes.
Remarks.—Fisher must be pronounced a good man, and had he fought more at the head he might have been able to have given a better account of the battle. His mug was a little battered, but in other respects he did not exhibit severe marks of punishment. He attributed his loss to the very heavy falls he experienced more than to the blows he encountered, and walked from the scene of action without any help. Scroggins fought under disadvantage; but the confidence he possessed was truly astonishing. He urged that he could beat all the light weights, and entertained an idea that six men in the whole kingdom did not exist who could conquer him. He was much inebriated, and the danger he was likely to experience by losing a chance in his ensuing fight with Turner, seemed not in the least to operate on his mind. Though the above conquest was not an easy fight, he was as anxious to bet upon himself as the most interested looker-on, offering terms almost on every round. He was more beaten about the face than his antagonist.
It was now decidedly two to one, and in many instances the odds were still higher throughout the sporting, that Scroggins would add another laurel to his wreath, in his second combat with Turner, on the 10th of June, 1817, at Sawbridgeworth, Hertfordshire, but the smiles of fortune abandoned our hero, and, for the first time in his life, he found himself in defeat. (See p. 377.)
The only consolation Scroggins experienced, after his mind had overcome the shock was attributing his loss to an accidental blow he received upon the throat in the third round, and which swelled so rapidly as almost to deprive him of the power of breathing; nothing could satisfy his wounded feelings but another opportunity to retrieve his lost laurels. Turner, without hesitation, agreed to accommodate him, and Scroggins was so confident of victory, that he put down the principal part of the money himself, to make the stakes £150 a-side, the combat to take place on Tuesday, October 7, 1817. But the charm was broken—the invincibility of Scroggins, in the sporting world, was at an end—no longer a winning man his defects were too prominent to be overlooked. A material falling off was observed at his benefit and he was altogether so much reduced that the odds on the third contest were seven to four against him.
During the time allowed for training, Scroggins, as on a former instance, unmindful of the necessity of paying attention to his health, in an inebriated moment had an accidental turn up with Bob Gregson at Belcher’s. In this skirmish he went down, and sprained one of his legs so severely that he did not recover from its effects for upwards of a month; but, to make amends for this indiscretion, so much did he fancy this match, that he sold his house, quitted the character of a publican, and became a private individual, “in order,” as he observed, “to be more able to keep to his training.”
His third battle with Turner was fought at Shepperton October 7, 1818 (which, as well as the former, will be found under the Memoir of Turner, p. 382). Notwithstanding his professed contempt for regular training, Scroggins appeared in the ring in better condition than his opponent. It was evident to every one present that Scroggy strained every point to win; and it is but common justice to remark, that his character as a boxer rose higher, in every point of view, on that day than in any of his previous battles.
Poor Scroggy’s course was now a downward one. He had survived his fame; and, never heeding the cautions of prudence, he paid the penalty, which men in every profession, pugilism by no means excepted, must pay for disregarding her dictates.
He was successively defeated by Jack Martin, the opponent of Randall, (see p. 398), at Moulsey, on the 18th of December, 1818, after a game fight of sixty-five rounds, in two hours and two minutes; by Josh. Hudson, at the same place, August 24, 1819, in eleven rounds, occupying eighteen minutes; and twice by David Hudson, the first time in May, the second in July, 1820.
Scroggy, however, was still game, and ready for anything. Determined as he himself said, “to lick somebody afore the year was out, pervising he could get backers,” Jack looked in on the 30th of November, 1820, at a “spread” given at Randall’s in Chancery Lane, by sundry patrons of the fistic art. Spring, Purcell, Randall, Turner, Martin, Phil. Sampson, Harry Holt, and others, were among the guests, and the patter turned on battles past and matches to come. A swell observed, that “if he could be got into condition, he should like to see a mill between Holt and the Old Tar, on account of the contrast of their styles.” Holt expressed his approbation of the proposal, and six weeks was mooted as the period. Jack, always rough and ready, replied, “Why, as to that there matter, ’tain’t no match between me and Holt; I can lick him like a babby. I never was so ill with a cold in all my born days; but as to time, why I’ll fight him any time you like, even now, bad as I am.” Holt returned Scroggins thanks for his candour; but, in return, thought Scroggins would have no chance; “however,” concluded Cicero, “far be it from me to aggravate the gentlemanly sort of man’s impatience: I too think, if it can be managed, there’s no time like time present.” “I’m ready,” retorted Scroggins; “but the winner shall have the whole of the purse.” “And I am agreeable,” replied Holt. Ten guineas were quickly posted, and the usual preparations were made for the contest. Turner and Martin seconded Scroggins; Purcell and Sampson were for Holt. Spring was time-keeper. Five to four on Scroggins on one side of the room, and five to four on Holt among the other party.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—The attitude of Holt was elegant, and he appeared also difficult to be got at. Scroggins was not long in commencing his favourite rush, and he bored in upon his opponent till he absolutely ran down Holt in the corner, and fell upon him.
2.—This round was all fighting; and the wisty-castors flew about till both went down, but Holt undermost.
3.—The fine science of Holt here told; and he planted two nobbers with his left hand without any return. Scroggins, however, went in upon the old tack when, after some exchanges, Holt got him down.
4.—After some exchanges of blows upon their nobs, the combatants closed, and Holt weaved his opponent in the Randall style. Scroggins got the throw, and Holt was undermost.
5.—The left hand of Holt told severely, and Scroggins went away with the force of the hits. Both down.
6.—Scroggins rushed in on Holt, but in making a hit he missed his opponent, and fell. He immediately got up, and said, “Gentlemen, I beg your pardon; I could not help it.”
7 and 8.—Nothing else but fighting—giving and taking without flinching, till both went down. “Bravo!” from the Pinks, “it’s an excellent fight. Both are good men; and Jack’s as good as his master.” Scroggins seemed rather touched in the wind, and he gave a loud hem.
9.—Holt, in this round, was everything. He gave Scroggy three facers without any return, and also hit him down. “Scroggy, he’ll spoil your beautiful mug, if you don’t take care.”
10 and 11.—Two slashing rounds. In the last, Scroggy went down from a slip. Ten minutes had elapsed.
12.—Holt, after making a slight blow, slipped down. Six to four on Holt.
13 to 15.—The blows of Holt were not effective enough to take the fight out of Scroggins. It was hard milling in all these rounds. Scroggins said to his seconds, “Don’t water me so much; it’s all right; I can’t lose it.”
16.—Holt’s left eye was rather damaged, and the claret had made its appearance on his mug. This was a tremendous round, and Scroggins threw Holt; but he behaved handsomely to his fallen opponent,—instead of falling upon him, as he might have done, he walked away. “Bravo; you are a good little fellow.”
17.—Scroggins’s nob was a little changed, and he again received two facers. Scroggins also went down.
18.—After an exchange of blows, Scroggins laughingly observed to Holt, “If you don’t hit harder, my boy, you can never win it.” Both down.—Twenty minutes.
19.—Sharp fighting; but Scroggins went down. Here Randall took some brandy to Holt, and gave him advice. “How many seconds are there to be?” said an amateur. “If there are forty it will make no odds,” observed Scroggins.
20.—In this round, Scroggins received a severe hit on his throat; two facers were also added to it; but he would not be denied, and scrambled his way in, till they both went down.
21.—Scroggins now began to wink, and he was as much distressed as an old, worn out, broken winded post prad; he, however, got Holt down.
22 and 23.—“Go along, Harry, it’s all your own; he’ll not come above two more rounds.” The left hand of Holt did some execution, and Scroggins had now the worst of it.
24.—This was a tremendous round. Scroggins went to work like a blacksmith hammering at a forge, and bored Holt into a corner. Hit for hit was exchanged, till they both went down; but Holt was undermost, and the back part of his head came in contact with the window-seat. “It’s all up;” and Martin offered fifteen to ten.
25.—Holt was quite an altered man, and he seemed stupefied from the effects of the fall. The whole of the falls throughout the fight were heavy indeed. When time was called, Holt came to the scratch with great difficulty. Scroggins down and undermost.
26.—The science of Holt was much admired; and, although terribly distressed, he put in two facers before he went down. “He’s nothing else but a game man,” from all the swells.
27.—Holt got better, and Scroggins, in going down, was undermost.
28.—It was not yet safe to Scroggins. Both down.
29.—This round was severely contested; but the heavy fall Holt received shook him all to pieces. Ten to five on Scroggins.
30.—Holt was game to the last; he exerted himself, and got Scroggins down.
31.—Scroggins was very much exhausted, but the fight was not out of him, and he came up first to the scratch. Both down. Ten to three.
32.—It was evident Holt could not win, and he was sent down in an instant. Ten to one.
33 and last.—Holt was sent down, and his second could scarcely get him on his knee. When time was called, the Birmingham Youth said he should not fight any more. Scroggins immediately came up to Holt, and said, “Harry, give us your hand; you are a good fellow, and here’s a guinea for you!” Great applause from the swells, and “Jack, you shall lose nothing by your generosity and feeling.”
Remarks.—For two men out of condition, nay, both unwell, particularly Scroggins, it was a much better fight than has frequently been seen when boxers have been in regular training. Scroggins had still some tremendous points about him, and the old tar’s rumbling, hardy mode of boring in, told severely at close quarters. It was a gallant battle on both sides; but the blows of Holt were not hard enough to stop the rush of Scroggins. The accident Holt received in the twenty-fourth round perhaps lost him the fight; he also complained of a sprained thumb before he commenced the battle. In a ring some of the amateurs thought Holt might have stood a better chance. The smiles of victory, which had not been familiar to Scroggins in his last six battles, seemed to give him new life. It was an out-and-out concern altogether; and the patrons of the science, manliness, and true game had a treat.
This flush of success was followed by another gleam of sunshine. Scroggins found backers, and was pitted against Joe Parish, the Waterman, who having beaten Davis, Harry Holt, and Lashbrook, was thought a promising plant, in spite of his having fallen beneath the all-conquering arm of the Nonpareil, Jack Randall. Banstead Downs, in Surrey, on Saturday, March 3, 1831, were the spot and time, and fifty guineas the sum; it was the second fight on the above day. The rain was pouring down in torrents when Scroggins appeared and threw his hat into the ring, attended by Randall and Paddington Jones as his seconds. Parish showed soon afterwards, followed by Spring and Harmer. Both men appeared in excellent condition. For one hour and a quarter, the rival pugilists exerted themselves in the highest style of courage to obtain the victory. The changes were frequent indeed; two to one on Scroggins—three to one on Parish—three to one again on Scroggins—then other changes. In the fifty-second round, from the distressed state of Parish, Randall threw up his hat, as it did not appear that Parish would be again able to appear at the scratch. He, however, recovered, and fought till the sixty-ninth round; but in the last three rounds, it was a hundred pounds to a farthing in favour of Scroggins. The latter behaved extremely well, was remarkably steady, and reminded the spectator of his best days. He was, however, terribly punished. The greatest anxiety prevailed among the old fanciers, who were more than friendly in their good wishes towards their old favourite. In the second round, Scroggins fell with his shoulder against one of the stakes (which circumstance was not known to the spectators, and operated as a great drawback to his exertions). Had not this accident happened, Scroggins thought he could have won it in much less time. Parish was punished but little about the head; yet he remained in a state of stupor a short time after the fight was over; and Spring carried him in his arms out of the ring. Parish displayed a great deal of game, and suffered very severely from heavy falls. If Parish had gone in to fight first, he might have given a better account of the battle. Spring this day convinced the amateurs he was entitled to their praise, not only as a most attentive second, but as a most active one; and it would not be doing common justice to the anxiety and exertions he displayed to make “ould Jack” win, to pass them over without notice.
On the Thursday after the above fight, at Josh. Hudson’s benefit, Parish addressed the Court, observing, “that although he had been defeated by Scroggins, he was not satisfied, and was ready to have another trial.” Scroggins, in reply, said, “from the advice of his friends, he had not intended to have fought any more; but as how he was too much of a gentleman not to accommodate Mr. Parish, who was also a gentlemanly sort of a man; so he would give him another trial.” A guinea a-side was deposited; but on the arrival of the night to make the stakes good, Parish did not make his appearance, and the guinea, of course, was forfeited.
This sunshine, however, was evanescent, and the course of Scroggins’s history tends henceforth downwards. In April, 1822, as related in the life of Tom Belcher, p. 165 ante, the hardy hero came in contact with the scientific Tom; on this occasion if Tom was stale Scroggy assuredly was but a shadow of his former self, and he was moreover in that state of lush which had now become almost habitual to him. Still, however, “ould Jack,” as he was already called, haunted the ring at every mill of note, unable to quit the arena of his many triumphs. The milling “spirit strong within him,” was shown on the 12th of June, 1822, at Moulsey Hurst. On that occasion the fights between Ward and Acton, and Burke and Marshall, having gone off unsatisfactorily to the patrons of boxing there and then present, a brace of countrymen offered themselves for a purse, and had actually “peeled,” when Scroggy roared out, “Gentlemen, as you’ve had but little fun to-day, suppose I fight the Gipsy, that will produce sport?” Cooper instantly replied that he was ready; and the extemporaneous mill quickly commenced. Scroggins was seconded by Harry Harmer and Bill Eales; Abbot and Turner picked up the Gipsy. In this battle the rash and hardy little Tar showed the folly of entering the ring out of condition. He was full of oranges, ginger beer, and heavy wet, taken as antidotes to the heat of the day, and as unfit to fight as a stall-fed ox; nevertheless he came up to be set down for twenty-five minutes, during which seventeen rounds were fought; Scroggins was at length persuaded to leave off. He afterwards observed, “he could not win, but he wasn’t half-licked.” This was our hero’s last appearance in the P. R.
Poor Scroggins now became a mere hanger-on of pothouses: a droll, diverting vagabond, occasionally picking up a few shillings as a second, or receiving precarious assistance from those who had known him in more prosperous days. Among these Cribb was long his friend, and “wittles” (for which Jack had an inordinate penchant, until brilliant Juniper utterly destroyed his digestion) were often set before him from the larder of the generous host of the Union Arms. Occasionally too, Jack would get in office as a waiter at one or other of the Sporting Houses; but his invincible love of liquor soon lost him these temporary asylums. The editor of Bell’s Life in London (V. G. Dowling, Esq.), by frequent generous appeals, and taking Jack’s name as the comic pseudonyme for innumerable admirable burlesque poems on public affairs, political and pugilistic, kept the once formidable pugilist, now the poor pothouse buffoon, from actual starvation.
May the example of John Palmer have its proper weight with every man whose physical capabilities lead him to adopt pugilism as a profession; and enforce the truth, that no constitution, however good, no strength, however superior to that of ordinary men, no amount of courage no degree of determination, can supply the want of caution, of attention to training, of prudence, of moderation; in short, of steadiness of conduct and becoming behaviour in and out of the ring. This is the deduction which every attentive reader of this history cannot fail to draw from a perusal of the lives of our most eminent boxers—that in the ring, as in every other pursuit, honesty of purpose, self-denial, and sobriety are indispensable—at least while engaged in struggles to attain distinction.
Scroggins departed this life on the 1st of November, 1836, in extreme poverty, having not quite completed his 49th year.
In Bell’s Life in London of November 6, appeared a “monody” of great length, and on the 13th the subjoined—
“EPITAPH ON OLD JACK SCROGGINS, P.P.
BY SIR FROSTY-FACED FOGO, BART., P.L.F.[[163]]
“Beneath this turf, and number’d with the dead,
Poor old Jack Scroggins rests his weary head.
His form grotesque departed, never more
To set the Castle parlour in a roar.
His spirit now unconscious of distress—
His active limbs all stiff and motionless—
Proof against pain, or poverty’s attack.
Here lies a Nonpareil—alas, poor Jack!
’Twas in the proud and palmy days of fight,
That first his wond’rous prowess came to light;
And long the annals of the ring shall tell,
Floor’d by his fives, how many a prime one fell;
How many a gallant miller, tried and tough,
As victor hail’d him, crying, ‘Hold, enough!’
How from his lips this language oft hath dropp’d,
‘I bears no malice to the man I’ve whopp’d!’
But his last fight is fought—the Champion grim,
To whom we all must yield, hath vanquish’d him
His allies sure—pale sickness, max, and age—
Have fairly driven old Scroggins off the stage;
Stretch’d the tough veteran on his lowly bier,
With none to comfort, and with nought to cheer.
Fogo’s salt tears, since thou art gone, old blade,
Shall oft bedew the spot where thou art laid;
And to thy memory in thy place of rest,
He oft will take a drop of Seager’s best.
A long farewell, from care and sorrow free,
Neglect and kindness are alike to thee;
Yet a poor brother bard, to friendship true,
Weeps o’er thy grave, and sighs a last adieu.”