CHAPTER V.
TOM JOHNSON (THOMAS JACKLING). CHAMPION OF ENGLAND—1783–1791.
Tom Johnson, whose real name was Jackling, was a native of Derby, although a general claim of Yorkshire extraction has been made for him, and “Boxiana” so states it; followed, of course, by “Fights for the Championship,” London, 1855. However, as he signs himself “Thomas Jackling, of Derby,” in a printed letter, the point is not worth disputing. He surely could himself have no motive for such a misrepresentation.
Johnson, for we shall retain his popular name, was certainly a hero among heroes; and if Tom was inferior to Broughton in science, he came certainly nearest of any man that had hitherto appeared to that phœnix of pugilistic skill. Nature had endowed him with unusual strength of body, and he was universally admitted to possess a careful and precise style of hitting. His courage was of the highest order, and he possessed a constitutional coolness of disposition and temper. Johnson was born in 1750, the very year that Jack Slack defeated his prototype, the champion Broughton, and at an early age repaired to London, where he followed the laborious occupation of a corn-porter, on a wharf near Old Swan Stairs. His surprising strength was paralleled by his kindness of heart; and while in this employment an anecdote is recorded of him which deserves preservation. Johnson’s fellow porter was taken ill, and being burdened with a wife and a numerous family, dependent on his labour for support, they were likely to be reduced to want, had not Johnson immediately undertaken (unknown to them) to do his fellow porter’s work, as well as his own. The warehouses where the corn was deposited were situated at some distance from the wharf, at the end of a court, denominated, from its steepness, “Labour-in-vain Court,” and to which place Tom carried every journey two sacks of corn instead of one, and gave the money to his family, till his fellow porter was able to return to his work. We would recommend this anecdote for extract in the next number of the “Evangelical Magazine;” it can be much better authenticated than most of the “lose-nothing” benevolences of their portrait-loving “labourers in the vineyard.”
As we prefer truth unadorned to clumsy rhetoric we have here merely paraphrased what we find in contemporaries, and, where advisable, resorted to acknowledged quotations. “After he (Johnson) had assumed the profession of the gymnasium (somewhat pedantic this, but the writer as he goes on becomes more natural), he soon proved the most effective among the whole race of modern athletæ. His strength, science, and astonishing bottom gave him rank superior to all his contemporaries, but his greatest excellence was his surprising coolness and judgment. It may appear somewhat ridiculous to the inconsiderate, and those prejudiced against the art, to attempt panegyric upon the mental gifts of a pugilist, but where such a merit did or does exist, it is a duty incumbent on those who are just and impartial to record it. The natural powers of Johnson’s mind, although not developed by the care of what the schoolmaster calls fostering education, were remarkably extensive and capable of the accomplishment of great difficulties. Unlike many pugilists, who seldom form any rules for their guidance in emergencies until they find themselves on the stage, he invariably, long before, determined on a system of conduct adapted to his own advantage, and calculated to defeat the style of his adversary. To effect this, he calmly balanced the respective abilities of his opponents, their tempers, power, and mode of attack, and particularly noted the constitution and disposition of his opponent. His grand principle in fighting was never unnecessarily to expose himself to danger, nor hazard anything which could be obtained with certainty by waiting. By acting on this plan, he frequently at the conclusion of a battle, was nearly in as good condition as at its commencement; for though confident when first setting-to of an easy conquest, his prudence led him to protract an engagement, which perhaps he could not speedily terminate, unless by endangering himself. He usually, therefore, acted on the defensive, and never made a blow but when confident of getting home. If his opponent was cool, he was cooler; if warm and precipitate, he endeavoured to make him still more so, by using every justifiable measure to disappoint and baffle him; but he never took advantage of his man by unfair manœuvres.”[[38]] This description, despite a certain stiffness of the old school, is written by a master, and an appreciator of the art.
A few casual turns-up had shown the bent of Johnson’s natural genius for fistic fame; and at 23 years of age, in June, 1783, he met a carman of the name of Jarvis in Lock’s Fields, Walworth. The skill of Johnson, a supposed novice opposed to a practised boxer, astonished the spectators. Jarvis was severely thrashed, and Tom’s fame spread abroad.
A desperate rough, known as “the Croydon Drover,” next challenged Johnson, and they fought on Kennington Common, in March, 1784. The Drover was completely polished off in twenty-seven minutes.
Stephen Oliver (Death), though a decided “ould ’un,” would not believe in Johnson’s vast superiority until he tried him, on Blackheath, in June, 1784, when he had ocular demonstration by being beaten blind in thirty-five minutes.
Johnson now seems to have reposed on his laurels without a competitor till 1786. On the 11th of January in that year, Bill Love,[[39]] a butcher, fancied Tom for 50 guineas a-side. Johnson disposed of Bill Love’s pretensions in a few minutes.
Jack Towers, “the celebrated conqueror of Death,” says the reporter, though we have not met with the record, met Johnson (for a stake not stated), at Barnet, in February, 1786, and was soundly beaten without a chance of retrieving his fame.
About this period, 1786, Humphries, Martin, the Bath butcher, and Mendoza appeared. These celebrated men will be found duly chronicled “in their right place.”
Fry, a big, heavy, and powerful man, next challenged Johnson for 50 guineas, and they fought at Kingston, in June, 1786, but in less than half an hour Fry got so much broiled as to be very glad to put an end to the contest; and Tom walked off the ground almost without a scratch.
Johnson, about this period (1787) beat every one that was opposed to him, and the sporting world was almost nonplussed to find a man who might stand something like a chance with him. As the metropolis could produce no such character, Bristol was searched (the parsley-bed of pugilists), when Bill Warr[[40]] was selected as an article that could be depended upon. He was backed to fight Johnson for 200 guineas, on a stage, at Oakingham, in Berkshire, on January 18, 1787.
In the first round Warr found out he had got a trump to deal with, by receiving a doubler from Johnson. He immediately assumed the defensive. In fact, it was scarcely worthy of being called a fight, and the amateurs were not only disappointed but much displeased. Warr was convinced that he could not beat Johnson by standing up to him, and therefore determined to try whether he could not tire him out by shifting and falling; accordingly, whenever Tom seemed likely to make a blow, Bill Warr was on his knees praying for pluck, à la Tass Parker and Nick Ward of more modern days. This humbugging lasted for nearly an hour and a half, Johnson’s intentions being continually frustrated by Warr’s dropping. At length an ugly hit nailed him as he was falling. He insisted on a “foul!” which not being admitted, he instantly bolted, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his seconds to come back and finish the fight. In the words of the report: “Warr jumped up from his knees, crying ‘foul!’ and jumped from the stage. His second called him several times to return, but he ‘mizzled’ clean off.” Johnson was now firmly established as the champion; his fame ran before him, and it was some months before any person could be found hardy enough to dispute his well-earned title; at length, a brave Hibernian chief, who, like Tom Johnson, had milled all his opponents, came forward, and soon found backers.
How this came about must be told by an episode. On November 22, 1787, a severe contest was decided, in Stepney Fields, between W. Savage and Doyle. Tom Johnson seconded Savage, and Ryan, his countryman Doyle. After a sharp battle of forty-five minutes, Doyle was defeated, and Ryan in some heat challenged Johnson.
Michael Ryan, the Irish champion’s skill and courage stood so high, that the odds were six to four before the fight, which took place at Wradisbury, in Buckinghamshire, on December 19, 1787, for 300 guineas a-side. The seconds were chosen from the first-rate pugilists, Humphries for Johnson, and Dunn for Ryan; and even the bottle-holders were of fistic eminence, being Tom Tring for the latter, and Mendoza for the former. The spectators were numerous. The celebrated Mr. Windham, Sir Richard Symonds, Colonel Hanger, Colonel Hamilton, Mr. Bradyl, General Fitzpatrick, etc., were more than spectators on this occasion.
The contest long hung doubtful, though, at the commencement, the odds were in favour of Ryan. What follows is from “Boxiana.” “After the fight had continued nearly twenty minutes, and at the close of a most tremendous round, Ryan put in a blow upon Johnson’s temple, which so completely stunned him that his arms fell by his side, and was following up this advantage with another hit, which must have decided the contest, when Humphries ran in to save Johnson, and caught Ryan in his arms. Cries of ‘Foul! foul!’ resounded from all parts, and the friends of Ryan instantly demanded the money, by observing that, as long as Johnson had not fallen, it was perfectly fair on the part of Ryan to strike him, and that the latter had won the battle. Here a general clamour took place, during which Ryan, with the warmth peculiar to his country, indignantly told his second, Dunn, that he had not done his duty by him as a man, in suffering such conduct to take place without resenting it, and, had he not been prevented, he would have milled Dunn upon the spot, his rage was so great. Considerable time having now elapsed, Johnson was recovered, and challenged Ryan to renew the combat: the latter, like a man, notwithstanding it was considered there was no necessity for so doing, agreed to it, thinking he could beat Johnson.
“The battle was at length renewed; but it was soon perceived that Ryan’s strength was exhausted by passion, and he now, in about ten minutes, became an easy conquest to Johnson, by giving away the chance. Ryan’s conduct in the battle was so noble, and his manly courage and science so truly apparent, that the amateurs were still left in doubt to decide accurately which was the best man” (“Boxiana,” pp. 94, 95).
In consequence of this opinion, a second battle was determined upon, and fought upon a stage in the Rabbit Dell in Cashiobury Park, near Rickmansworth, in Hertfordshire, for 300 guineas a-side, on February 11, 1789. This was a contest of great anxiety, and the whole sporting world was there, from the Corinthian to the costermonger.
Johnson, who had for his second, Humphries, and Jackson as his bottleholder, mounted the stage at three o’clock, and were immediately followed by Ryan, who was seconded by Mr. Rolfe, a baker, and Nowlan his bottleholder. The set-to was one of the finest ever witnessed, and much science was displayed; the parries and feints eliciting general admiration. At length Ryan put in a severe blow on Johnson’s chest, which floored him.
The second round, which continued about two minutes, was terrible beyond description—science seemed forgotten—when Ryan received a knock-down blow. The battle was well sustained on both sides for some time; but Ryan’s passion getting the better of him, he began to lose ground. “Johnson,” says “Pancratia,” p. 83, “stopped Ryan’s blows with the greatest dexterity, and, hitting over his guard, cut him under the eyes.” Ryan’s head and eyes made a dreadful appearance. The contest lasted for thirty-three minutes, when Ryan gave in. A hat, ornamented with blue ribbons was placed upon the conqueror’s head; and Johnson gained a considerable sum of money, as, besides the 300 guineas stakes, and £512 door money, equally divided between the combatants, Mr. Hollingsworth, a cornfactor, and a former master of Johnson, settled £20 a year upon him for life, in consideration of the money he had won by backing him.
Brain, better known as Big Ben (see post), was now considered the only man capable of meeting Johnson, and a match was made for £1,000; but Ben, being taken ill at the appointed time, forfeited the deposit, which was £100.
We now approach one of the most interesting and remarkable contests in the annals of pugilism. The various coloured accounts of more modern writers cannot be excused of exaggerating the incidents of this fight, yet, as our object is rather authenticity than “sensation,” we shall simply transcribe the report from the old Sporting Magazine, for the month of September, 1789.
Birmingham having challenged London to produce its most noted men to meet their best pugilists, the matter has been put in train, and the combatants paired thus:—Isaac Perrins[[41]] challenges Tom Johnson, the champion; Jacombs will fight Bryan (Big Ben); Pickard, George Ingleston (the brewer); Tom Faulkner (the cricketer), Watson; and Thornhill, Hooper (the tinman). The challenges of the three first heroes were accepted, and the terms proposed by “the bruisers” agreed to.
The meeting of Johnson and Perrins was arranged for the first October meeting at Newmarket, to be fought on the turf, for 250 guineas a-side, and two-thirds of the door money to the winner, one-third to the defeated combatant. We continue from the contemporary report:—
“Perrins was an uncommonly strong man, gigantic in height and weight, with force adapted to his form, and, for his size, of astonishing activity. He stood six feet two inches in his stocking feet, and weighed seventeen stone, three stone heavier than Johnson. Perrins is stated to have lifted eight hundred weight of iron into a waggon, and to have performed other feats of strength almost beyond credibility. He was universally allowed to possess much skill in boxing, and excellent bottom. He had won many battles with ease, beating every competitor in Warwickshire, Staffordshire, and Worcestershire, and undoubtedly thought himself superior to every athlete, as is shown by his advertisement, challenging to fight any man in England for 500 guineas. His Birmingham friends considered him invincible, and backed him in the contest for many thousands of pounds, at two, and even three, to one against Johnson.
“The combatants, however, were not permitted to fight at Newmarket, and Banbury, in Oxfordshire, was then fixed upon, where they accordingly met on the 22nd of October, 1789. The battle was fought on a turfed stage, raised five feet from the ground, twenty-four feet square, and railed in. Johnson’s second was Will Ward (Warr), and his bottle-holder Joe Ward; Pickard seconded Perrins, and his brother was his bottle-holder. Colonel Tarleton was umpire for Johnson, and Mr. Meadows, of Birmingham, for Perrins.
“At a little before one the combatants set-to, and Johnson’s friends, who before had flattered themselves with certain success, when they viewed the wonderful difference of size between the bruisers, began to tremble for the event.
“For five minutes all was anxious expectation; Perrins then with great force aimed a blow, which Johnson very dexterously eluded, and gave the first blow, by which Perrins fell. The three next rounds terminated also in Johnson’s favour, who confused his antagonist by dancing round him, and occasionally planting an unexpected hit. Perrins became excessively irritated at this conduct, and throwing off the caution he had shown at the beginning, followed Johnson with vast resolution, and appearing to treat his manœuvres with contempt, he, despite of several sharp hits, at last got in a successful knock-down blow, which success he followed up for several rounds, in one of which he brought blood by a severe cut on Johnson’s lip.
“Johnson watched his opportunity, and in reply to a taunt from the Birmingham Goliath jumped in, and planting a blow over Perrins’ left eye, cut the eyebrow, and completely closed it up. This blow, and the failure of Perrins’ wind, which was now very visible, raised the bets amazingly in Johnson’s favour; the odds, however, again changed upon Perrins closing one of Johnson’s eyes; after this Johnson began once more to fight cunning, and having skilfully parried a violent attack of Perrins, he caught him so severe and swift a blow in the face as laid his nose completely open. Odds now rose 100 to 10 on Johnson.
“Perrins recovered his breath, and with great vigour and resolution attacked Johnson, who retreated parrying, but Perrins got in a blow over Johnson’s right eye that again brought down the odds, but not to even. Forty rounds of resolute boxing had now taken place.
“In the following round Johnson fell when not struck, and Perrins claimed the victory, but the umpires decided it was allowable,[[42]] as the articles did not specify to the contrary.” We suspect the Birmingham men, for Perrins was as brave a boxer as ever pulled off a shirt, were trying to “snatch a verdict,” as the day was clearly going against them.
“Perrins, in turn, seemed now to lose much of his strength. He tried to imitate his antagonist’s mode of fighting, with which he was totally unacquainted.[[43]] He fought low, and had recourse to chopping back-handed strokes, which at first drove back Johnson and disconcerted him, but against which he soon guarded himself very collectedly; often getting home a sharp return.
The Fight between TOM JOHNSON and ISAAC PERRINS, at Banbury, Oxfordshire, November 22nd, 1789.
From an Engraving published in 1790.
“Johnson seemed to improve in strength as the battle went on, never beginning the attack. Perrins, in aiming several heavy blows, fell, as if from weakness. Johnson watched his falling, and hit him in the face, generally falling at the same time. He seemed now to hit Perrins whenever he tried. At the end of one hour and a quarter Johnson gathered himself for a blow, and it took effect directly, in the centre of the face,[[44]] and finished as severe a contest as stands recorded in the annals of pugilism; the combatants having fought sixty-two rounds of fair hard boxing.”
Mr. Bullock won £20,000 by the battle. He backed Johnson, taking high odds, and afterwards made him a present of £1000 (and he deserved the generous gift). The door-money amounted to £800, of which Johnson had £533, after expenses deducted. As the song says,
“Shall we ever, shall we ever;
Shall we ever see the like again?”
The remarkable print from which our engraving is furnished, is certainly, when we compare it with most of the art-productions of the day, a most creditable production. The descriptions which we have quoted from witnesses of the fight, and from persons who well knew the combatants, are fully realised. Although the stoop of Johnson certainly exaggerated the vast proportion of Perrins, the disparity, upon closer examination, is not so extreme. The faces, you feel, must be portraits.
The fights which followed will be found under Brain (Big Ben) and George Ingleston (note to John Jackson).
Johnson now seemed to be without a rival to dispute his supremacy; but about the year 1790, the Duke of Hamilton, who had been the firm friend and patron of Ben Brain of Bristol (Big Ben), was extremely anxious to back his protégé against the renowned, and as yet invincible Johnson. A challenge was accordingly published, the Duke backing Ben for 500 guineas.
“Johnson,” says “Pancratia,” “who the year before possessed the amount of £5000 acquired by his astonishing success in the battles he had fought, by an unlucky ‘leter’ of shaking the elbow, found himself obliged, in order to replenish the exchequer, to accept Ben’s offer. The conditions were agreed upon, and the day fixed for January 17th, 1791. Never was public curiosity more on tiptoe;” but as this battle belongs by our system to the memoir of the victor, it will be found in the memoir of Big Ben. This was the last fight of both these celebrated pugilists.
Johnson’s name appears from time to time as second to Hooper, the tinman, “Gentleman Jackson,” and other pugilists, but no more as principal. We find Bell soon after his victory over Stanyard, the Birmingham boxer, (in December 1792) challenging Johnson to “mill for a guinea;” whereon the reporter remarks: “Tom, however, has lost too many of the yellow-boys lately to trouble himself to win a single one, and left the stage.” A sufficient allusion to Tom’s improvidence.
Johnson, becoming a Boniface, took the “Grapes” in Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields. Here he failed in business, owing to his gambling propensities, which also caused the loss of his license. He then became the proprietor of an EO table at races, etc. This, too, failing, he migrated to Ireland. In Dublin he kept, as we see by advertisements, a public house in Cooper-Alley: but here again the gaming practices and frequenters incensed the magistrates, and he was deprived of his license. He next is found in Cork, where he advertised for pupils in the art of boxing, and where, on the 21st of January, 1797, aged forty-seven years, the Champion fell before the arm of the great leveller—death.
“Johnson’s appearance,” says a contemporary, “indicated, when stripped, more of strength than beauty of form. He was in height nearly five feet nine inches, and about fourteen stone in weight; a remarkably round-made man, with very fine chest and shoulders, and displaying immensely strong loins. He was by no means a showy fighter, and his guard was generally considered inelegant, and his attitudes more defensive than otherwise. In the fight he was peculiarly steady, watching every movement of his antagonist with a coolness unequalled, receiving the attack unappalled, and scarcely ever failing in the return of planting a most desperate hit. The head was his favourite object, and if his adversary did not possess considerable science, he was in extreme danger of being put in the dark. Johnson walked round his antagonist in a way peculiar to himself, that so puzzled his adversary to find out his intent, that he was frequently thrown off his guard, by which manœuvring Johnson often gained the most important advantages. Tom was thorough game, and showed the utmost contempt for retreating; at the same time careful to avoid exposing his person too much to the attacks of his antagonist. One pugilist,” continues the author of “Pancratia,” “may be superior in strength, a second in science, a third in endurance, but in Johnson have been more fully combined the requisites of a complete boxer than in any pugilist up to this day.”
