The contest lasted twenty minutes, during which time Firby never had any chance of success. He had ever been considered a first-rate pugilist, and consequently the amateurs expected one of the best displays of science that ever had been witnessed; but whether Belcher’s name overawed him, or he really had fallen off in his style of fighting, he in this contest fell much short of what was anticipated. Belcher after the battle had not the mark of a blow perceivable.
Thursday, May 12, 1803.—“Mr. Garrow this day moved for the judgment of the Court on four defendants, James Belcher, Joseph (but in the indictment erroneously called Edmund) Burke, Joe Ward, called also erroneously James, and Henry Lee, who were described to be labourers. These defendants had allowed judgment to go by default.”
The indictment charged, that they, being persons of evil and malicious dispositions, and fighters, duellers, rioters, etc., had, on the 25th of November, in the county of Berks, conspired and combined together, that James Belcher and Edmund Burke (!) should fight a duel, and that the other two defendants should be aiding and assisting in the said fight and duel; and that in pursuance of the said conspiracy, the said James Belcher and Edmund Burke unlawfully and riotously assembled together, with fifty others, to the disturbance of the public peace; and that Belcher and Burke “fought a duel,” and the other two “were present, aiding and assisting, together with fifty other persons.” Mr. Garrow, afterwards a brutal Tory attorney-general and truculent judge, earned his dirty fee by a more than ordinary amount of hireling abuse of pugilism. Of course he said little of the deadly weapons with which the prisoners’ “betters” settled their duels. The celebrated Erskine, afterwards Lord Chancellor, and Mr. Const defended the prisoners, merely asking the lenity of the Court. Lord Ellenborough finally bound the prisoners, each in his own recognizance of £400, to come up when called on for the judgment of the Court; a nominal judgment, upon which the defendants were discharged.
An unfortunate accident now struck down the skill of this talented boxer, and clouded his after life in every sense. While playing at rackets with Mr. Stuart at the Court in Little St. Martin’s Lane, on the 24th of July, 1803, Belcher received a blow from a ball struck by the marker, of such extraordinary violence as literally to almost knock his eyeball from its socket. This distressing accident and the heavy recognizance on which he was bound, had a most depressing effect on Jem’s spirits and health, and he announced his retirement from the ring. His friends rallied round him, and placed him in a public-house, the Jolly Brewers, in Wardour Street, Soho, where he was well supported. But Jem’s spirit was active, though prudence dictated entire retirement. A quarrel between a brother of Jem’s (who soon after died) and Hen. Pearce, the Game Chicken, his fellow townsman and protegé, led to this unfortunate rencontre. The lavish praises too of Pearce’s friends excited Belcher’s envy: he declared he had taught Pearce all he knew, and spoke slightingly of “the Chicken’s” ability and skill; but we are anticipating.
Joe Berks, upon Belcher’s retirement, claimed the championship; but Pearce of whom we shall soon give the pugilistic career, was invited to London by Jem, with a promise to procure him patronage and a match with Berks. These matters will be found hereafter in our Life of Pearce, who had in the interim twice beaten Berks, and subsequently, Elias Spray, Carte, and lastly John Gully, when Belcher rashly challenged “the Chicken” for 500 guineas, to fight within two months. Pearce appears to have been much mortified at this challenge, but his position as champion forbade him to decline it. Mr. Fletcher Reid, Belcher’s firm friend, staked for Jem, and Captain Halliday posted the 500 for “the Chicken.” This, the first defeat of the renowned Jem, will be found fully detailed under the memoir of his conqueror.
Belcher had materially declined in constitution, independently of the loss of his eye. Among the serious effects of that accident was a nervous depression and irrepressible irritability, which, according to the testimony of many who knew him intimately, he tried in vain to control. Upwards of two years had passed in retirement from active pursuits, and in the ease and free living of a publican’s calling, when Belcher came forward, upon Pearce’s claim to the championship, to dispute his title. He could not be persuaded of the difficulties of meeting so skilful and formidable a boxer with the loss of an eye; and when too late he discovered his inferiority. How he did fight was long remembered by those who witnessed the lamentable but truly heroic and honourable combat, in which more unaffected courage, manly forbearance and true humanity were displayed and applauded, than ever entered into the narrow soul of craven slanderers of pugilism to conceive. Animosity was merged in honourable emulation, and the struggle for fair and unimpeachable victory. Belcher fought in his accustomed style, and tried his usual hits with adroit rapidity; but it was noticed that they were often out of distance, and that his defective eyesight was painfully made evident. When this was aggravated by blows over the good eye, his aim became utterly confused, and he became a victim to his own fatuity. Nevertheless, poor Jem endeavoured to make up for deficiency of sight and aim by an astonishing and unequalled display of courage and gaiety; and though the skill and science on both sides deserved respect, the spectators could not avoid seeing that Belcher’s guard was no longer ready, and his rapid antagonist planted on him so severely and frequently as to excite the regret of his friends that such a combat should have been provoked, and that the envious infirmity of human nature should have thus blinded the mental judgment as well as the bodily sight of so able a champion. Jem’s spirits, however, never forsook him during the fight; and at its close he declared, “That his sorrow was more occasioned by the recollection of the severe loss of a particular friend, who, in fact, had sported everything he possessed upon his head, and had been one of his most staunch backers and supporters through life, than as to any particular consideration respecting himself!” a generous sentiment and well worthy of record. Notwithstanding the somewhat ill-natured remark of John Gully, “That had Jem been in possession of four eyes, he never could have beaten Pearce,” it must be remembered that the future M.P. had been thrashed by Pearce, and had not even seen Belcher in his prime. Fully conceding the excellence evinced by the Chicken in science, wind, strength, and game, we may yet be allowed the supposition, that had this contest taken place when Jem Belcher possessed his eyesight in full perfection, its termination would, to say the least, have been very doubtful.
Respecting Belcher’s two battles with Cribb, when the circumstances of the case are duly appreciated; when it is recollected that his spirits must have been somewhat damped by previous defeat; and that his powers were known to be on the decay previous to his fight with the Chicken, it must be allowed that his heroism and science shone resplendently.
In the first fight with Cribb, as may be traced, Jem’s superiority in tactics was manifest. The former was severely punished; and not until Belcher had received a most violent hit over his good eye, and sprained his right hand, did Cribb appear to have an opening for a lead. In the seventeenth round the odds were two to one on Belcher, and in the eighteenth five to one, when Cribb was so much beaten, that considerable doubts were entertained whether he would be able to come again; and even at the conclusion of the battle Cribb was in a very exhausted state. Until Belcher lost his distance, from his confused sight, victory appeared to hover over him.
In the last battle that Belcher fought his courage was principally displayed, and he by no means proved an easy conquest to Cribb. Since the loss of his eye, it was the positive wish of his best friends that he should fight no more, but he was not to be deterred, obstinately neglected good advice, and would not believe in the decline of his physical powers. In this last battle, his disadvantages were great. His opponent had made rapid improvement in science, was in full vigour, and a glutton that was not to be satisfied in a common way; still Jem gave specimens of his former skill; but they were rather showy than effective, for the strength had departed. His hands, too, failed him, and for several of the latter rounds he endeavoured fruitlessly to prolong the contest without the indispensable weapons to bring it to a successful issue. Youth, weight, courage, freshness, and no mean amount of skill, were too much for the waning stamina and skill of even a Belcher to bear up against.
At the end of the report of his fight with Firby, a correspondent of the Morning Post thus sketches Belcher’s qualifications from personal acquaintance. “Belcher is a dashing, genteel young fellow, extremely placid in his behaviour, and agreeable in his address. He is without any remarkable appearance of superior bodily strength, but strips remarkably well, displaying much muscle. Considered merely as a bruiser, I should say he was not so much a man of science according to the rules of the pugilistic art, as that he possessed a style peculiar or rather natural to himself, capable of baffling all regular science, and what appeared self-taught or invented, rather than acquired by practice. He was remarkably quick, springing backwards and forwards with the rapidity of lightning. You heard his blows, but did not see them. At the conclusion of a round his antagonist was struck and bleeding; but he threw in his hits with such adroitness that you could not discern how the damage was done. His style was perfectly original, and extremely difficult to avoid or to withstand.” Again, “His style, like that of the great masters in every line, was truly ‘his own;’ the spectator was struck with its neatness and elegance—his opponent confused and terrified by its effects; while his gravity, coolness, and readiness, utterly disconcerted the fighting men with whom he was often opposed in mimic as well as actual combat. Add to this, that a braver boxer never pulled off a shirt, and we need hardly wonder at his eminent success, until an accident deprived him of one of the most valuable organs of man’s complex frame.”