BOXING.
We will first give briefly some of the reasons why we have determined to mention this branch of the manly exercises. Firstly, we do so because we have a great personal esteem for the art, though none can be more sternly opposed to its abuse. Secondly, because it affords one of the finest exercises in the world, employing every limb and every muscle in the body, giving at the same time readiness of hand and quickness of eye, while it tests and improves the patience and endurance. And, thirdly, because every one likes to know how to use the weapons which Nature has given him, and will contrive to acquire the desired knowledge whenever he can find an opportunity. All Englishmen, and therefore all English boys, are proud of their natural weapon, and compare it with the knife, the loaded stick, the knuckleduster, and the pistol of other nations. The principle of fair play and justice is strongly developed in an English breast, and in nothing is the principle so thoroughly carried out as in boxing. No unfair advantage is allowed to either side, no striking upon the vital parts of the body is permitted, and the use of the foot, tooth, or nail is forbidden under the severest penalties. Even in the very prize ring, where men are trained for the express purpose of hitting each other with the utmost force of which human arms are capable, there is little harm done, and in a few days both combatants look as if nothing had happened to them. It is not so even in a wrestling county, or in some few parts of our own land where men fight like brute beasts, and use their best endeavours to maim or blind their adversaries for life. A well-known American writer has expressed, in his own humorous language, the astonishment which he felt at witnessing a short “turn up” at an English cattle-fair. The grave propriety of the affair, and the admirable order in which it was conducted, struck him with profound admiration, as contrasted with the “inglorious and inevitable Yankee clinches, followed by a general mêlée,” which in popular language is termed a “free fight,” and in which every one attacks every one else with any weapons and in any manner.
Before proceeding to our genuine English Boxing, we must just mention the French “savate,” of which we have heard so much of late. We have seen it practised and taught in the salles d’armes, and for it, as a system for boxing, we have the profoundest contempt; as also for that execrable French custom of striking upwards with the knee when at close quarters—an atrocity for which we should like to see a man soundly horsewhipped on the spot.
Now, the savate simply consists in this. You make a feint, as if to strike in the usual manner, and then, instead of striking with the fist, you kick with the foot. Or, when your antagonist is pressing you sharply, you send the point of your toe into his chest, and stop him. Or, you retreat from him, suddenly turn round, and kick at him backwards—of course being quite unable to tell where the blow will alight, and possibly inflicting an injury the effects of which will be felt for life.
Those who are practised in this manœuvre will employ it with wonderful skill. They will hit you on the nose or on the forehead without the least apparent effort, and with the greatest certainty; they will fling you back from your advance with stunning force, and the effect of the lash-out is terrific. Indeed, if the object of boxing be to use all means of offence and defence, the savate is indispensable.
Having many opportunities of visiting several schools of arms, we carefully considered this system, which was then totally unknown to us; and after watching it well for some time, during our residence in Paris, we came to the conclusion that the savate is useful enough in case you are attacked by ruffianly fellows, whom you must needs maim, lest they should maim you; and that by the combined use of the savate and a stick, or even the fist, a man may knock over a couple of assailants simultaneously and effectually.
And if a Frenchman who uses the savate were opposed to an Englishman who never heard of it, the probability is that the former would win, because the latter would lay himself open to a mode of attack which he had always been taught to consider unfair and unmanly. But we do not believe that it would be of the slightest value against any one who knew that his antagonist would employ it, and think that the person attempting to use it would find himself hurled to the ground, and probably discover that his leg was violently sprained. So much for the savate.
It is not easy to teach any branch of the science of arms in a book, and boxing is perhaps as difficult to be learned from books as fencing. Still, something can be done even through the medium of ink and paper; and the reader can, at all events, learn to avoid the errors to which a total novice is subject.
The first and most important point is the position in which the boxer stands.
This is not very dissimilar to that of a left-handed fencer, except that the right arm, instead of being raised, is brought across the body, so that it defends the pit of the stomach (technically called the “mark”), and only leaves a very small portion of the chest open to a blow. The left arm is rather higher than if it held a foil, and the elbow is kept well to the side. This latter point is most important, as it is impossible to hit straight from the shoulder if the elbow should project from the side.
The weight of the body rests mostly on the right leg, so that the boxer can step backwards or forwards, while still keeping his side to the adversary. If you stand opposite a good sparrer in boxing attitude, you will be surprised to find how well guarded he is, and how difficult it is to hit him, even if he neither moves nor attempts to return the blow. His left hand keeps you well away from him, and his right is ready either to stop or throw off your blow.
It will be seen from the foregoing description, as well as by reference to the [illustration], that a right-handed boxer stands with his left side towards the opponent, uses his left hand for the chief part of the hitting, and reserves the right for stopping, parrying, or returning blows when at close quarters, or what is technically called a “rally.”
Practise this attitude before a glass. You will soon see if you lay yourself open, and will learn to stand in a correct position. Advance and retreat also before the glass, and so make sure that you do not expose some weak point while so doing. I met a French gentleman who had made himself really a creditable boxer, merely by practising before his mirror; and after a few days of practical work with the gloves he became quite a formidable antagonist.
Another important point is the making up of the fist—not such a simple matter as it seems. The fingers must be clenched tightly, and the thumb doubled down outside them, so that when presented towards your antagonist he can see no part of it projecting over the fingers. This can also be practised at the glass. If the hand be rightly held, it will be seen that the knuckles form a kind of arch, of which the middle knuckle is the keystone. It is with this knuckle that you strike; and be sure to clench the hand with all your power as you deliver the stroke; otherwise you will run a sad risk of dislocating either a finger or a thumb.
The position of the head is of no small importance. On no account bear forwards, as is the way of muffs, but keep it lightly thrown back, and never take your eye off that of your opponent. Greenhorns always lower the head, and rush at their antagonist with their arms flying about like the sails of a windmill; and the natural consequence is, that their opponent quickly steps aside, lets them pass, and knocks them neatly over by a blow on the temple, which they cannot possibly see or guard.
Having got our attitude and doubled our fist, we now learn to strike. Deliver your blow straight and from the shoulder, not merely with the arm. Put all your body into the stroke, and aid it with the spring of the right foot against the ground. Thus you add to the blow the force of a kick, and the stroke comes with such terrific force that I have seen a tall man lifted fairly off the ground and deposited on his back by a straight shoulder-hit, even though the two were merely sparring with the gloves.
Never draw back your hand before you strike, as that tells your opponent what you are contemplating. Your stroke should flash out like the lightning, without warning and straight to the mark. You cannot strike too rapidly, and you cannot recover yourself too quickly. Practise this repeatedly before a glass, and note the length of your reach, for in a knowledge of distance lies half the art of boxing. As a general rule, if you can get your left toe on a level with your antagonist’s heel, you have your proper distance. This rule, however, is necessarily variable, as in the case of the contest to which allusion has just been made, where one party could reach a full foot beyond the other, and had, in consequence, the advantage of twelve inches of space at his disposal.
Now that we have practised the left hand and arm, let us turn to the right. Except when striking, you need not trouble yourself to close the fist very tightly, but may let the hand lie in an easy and unconstrained position across the chest, ready for use in any direction that may be required.
The chief use of the right hand and arm are for parrying and stopping, which are thus achieved:—
If your opponent delivers a blow at the face or upper part of the chest, and you find yourself in a good position, do not retreat from it, but fling your right arm sharply outwards and upwards, catching the opponent’s arm by the wrist, and throwing it out of the direction in which it was aimed. The effect of the parry is very powerful, as it mostly lays open the antagonist’s head, and gives opportunity for a smart return blow with the left hand; it is then near the opponent’s head, and has only a short distance to traverse. This return blow is technically called the “counter,” and is usually very effective, as it takes effect just at the moment when the antagonist is expecting his own blow to strike, and turns the tables on him after a rather discouraging fashion.
Practise this also before the glass, parrying an imaginary blow from the opponent, and simultaneously shooting your own left hand against the spot where your antagonist’s head ought to be. I have often found that a quick double blow when countering is very embarrassing, and gives an opportunity of stepping in and planting your right hand after your left with enormous effect.
Stopping is performed in another manner, and must often be used where the parry is impracticable. For example, if your antagonist strikes at the body the parry cannot be accomplished, and you must either get away, stop, or take the blow in hopes of retaliation. In stopping you receive the blow on your arm, and thereby break its force, while, unless your opponent is possessed of herculean strength, the arm scarcely feels the stroke, yielding before the assault and acting like the cotton bales that have saved many a ship from the enemy’s cannon.
If you are fortunate enough to find a good boxer, get him to give you a few lessons in the practical department of the art, and in all cases be careful to keep your temper. I know that few things are more annoying than when you have made a telling plan of attack, and are just about to begin its execution, to be checked by a short dab on the nose, which makes your eyes water and the lids blink, and forces you to act on the defensive for the next few minutes, while the tears are streaming down your cheeks, and you cannot use a handkerchief by reason of the gloves.
Remember that there are two golden rules for a boxer, namely, hit straight and keep your temper. Fail in either of these requisites, and you will probably come off second best; fail in both, and you will certainly do so. Listen to an account of a battle where strength and weight and anger were overmatched by skill and coolness:—“As the assailant rushed in he ran a prominent feature of his face against a fist which was travelling in another direction, and immediately after struck the knuckles of the young man’s other fist a severe blow with the part of his person known as the epigastrium to one branch of science, and the bread-basket to another. This second round closed the battle.”
So we say again, keep your temper and hit straight. You see a circular blow takes more time to deliver than a straight one, and if your opponent swings his arm round at you, while you dart out your own fist at him, your blow will have taken effect long before his clumsy circumgyratory attempt has completed its journey.
Let me here offer another piece of advice. Do not buy cheap gloves. You may get them at a saving of half-a-crown or so, but you will soon wish that you had expended the money in obtaining a better pair. Gloves require the best horsehair, arranged after a peculiar fashion, in order to give them the mixed softness and elasticity which they require. Inferior gloves soon become hard and knotty, the stuffing gets thin in some places, especially just in those very parts where it is most required. The consequence is, that the gloves become practically useless, and the blows are nearly as severe as if struck with the bare hand.
Remember that, although we strongly approve of boxing, it is not to be understood that we want every one to be fighting. We very much approve of fencing and single-stick, but we certainly have no wish that every one who learns to use the foil or the single-stick in mimic combat should want to try his rapier or his broadsword in deadly fight.
As a mere exercise it stands supreme; but it is even something beyond an exercise. It shows that superior strength and height and weight are powerless before superior skill, and that a small boy who knows how to box will certainly conquer a big one who is ignorant of the art. We say again, we do not recommend fighting; but still it is good to know how to stand up in one’s own defence, and we heartily wish that when we went to school some kind friend had taught us the rudiments of the art.
The brutal bully of a school never holds his own when he meets with an antagonist who is skilful in the use of his hands, and is forced to confess that his brute strength and cruel nature are useless in such a contest. We once saw a school bully get his deserts in a charming manner. He had fallen upon (of course) a much smaller boy, and was chasing him down a passage between a double row of forms. Suddenly his victim turned round, and delivered a right-and-left blow on the chin of his tormentor, astonishing him in no slight degree. The bully pressed on, thinking to annihilate his impertinent antagonist, but could not do so on account of the narrowness of the passage. As he pressed forward the bold little fellow retreated backwards, step by step, popping in his blows sharp and quick, and stepping back just as those of his persecutor were delivered. The bully never guarded a single blow or succeeded in hitting one, and by the time that they had made their way through the defile he was obliged to confess himself beaten, and was deposed for ever from the despotic throne which he had so long disgraced.
