After an unsuccessful venture as a coal-merchant, at Hungerford Wharf, Cribb underwent the usual metamorphosis from a pugilist to a publican, and opened a house at the Golden Lion in the Borough; but finding his position too far eastward for his numerous aristocratic patrons, “honest Tom” moved his quarters to the King’s Arms,[[141]] the corner of Duke Street and King Street, St. James’s, and subsequently to the Union Arms, at the corner of Panton Street and Oxendon Street, Haymarket.
With one interruption, presently to be noticed, our hero’s life was henceforth of a peaceful character. In 1814, upon the conclusion of the gigantic European struggle with the first Napoleon, Cribb had the honour of sparring before the monarchs, princes, and marshals, who visited the Prince Regent in honour of the pacification of Europe. On Wednesday, June 15, 1814, the Emperor of Russia, the Hetman Platoff, Marshal Blucher, and an illustrious party, assembled at the house of Lord Lowther, in Pall Mall, to an elegant déjeuner, when boxing, as a peculiar trait of the brave nation of England, was introduced. “The distinguished visitors were so much gratified with this generous mode of settling quarrels, and the scientific mode of attack and defence exhibited, that they requested of Lord Lowther that another trial of skill might take place on the Friday following, when, in addition to the visitors, the King of Prussia, the Prince Royal of Prussia, Princes Frederick and William of Prussia, the Prince of Mecklenburg, General D’Yorck, etc., honoured the meeting with their presence. Some elegant specimens of the pugilistic art were displayed between Messrs. Jackson, Belcher, Cribb, Richmond, Painter, Oliver, etc. The set-tos in general were excellent; but the sparring of Jackson was particularly admired. The Champion of England (Cribb) occasioned a general stare among the spectators, and the veteran Blucher eyed him with more than common attention. The royal guests expressed their satisfaction at the treat they had experienced; and upon taking their departure, complimented his lordship as the patron of so manly and characteristic a trait of his country.”
About this period, and for several years, Tom’s character and doings seem to have been a favourite theme with “penny-a-liners” and paragraph writers, and the papers of the time, furnish a crop of anecdotes, good, bad, and indifferent, many of which are scattered up and down Pierce Egan’s volumes. We give a few of them on his authority.
Tom Cribb and the Pig.—During the time Tom was in training, previous to his match with Gregson, as he was taking his morning’s exercise through a country village, accompanied by his friend Gully, dressed in long smock frocks, they observed an overgrown fellow beating a pig in a very cruel manner. Upon inquiry, they found the animal belonged to a neighbour, and civilly begged him to desist from such cruelty. The fellow abused them for their interfering, and, relying on his strength, threatened to give them both a good hiding, assisted by three or four hawbucks, who had joined the squabble. Without farther ceremony the fellow put himself in an offensive attitude, and made a violent blow at Cribb, which the latter stopped with the utmost sang froid, not forgetting to put in his one-two tremendously, the effects of which floored this unfeeling brute in a twinkling. His nob was materially shook, and the claret tapped in a masterly style. This small taste of Cribb’s quality had the desired effect. The fight was instantly taken out of the chaw-bacon, who went off, growling to himself, from the scene of his cruelty and impertinence; but not, however, before receiving an admonition from the Champion to be more temperate in his language and humane in his conduct in future. Gully, smiling to himself, now wished another of these Johnny Raws, who had been also very busy and impudent, to try what he could do with him, observing, that he might have better luck than his fellow servant. But in vain, the milling specimen exhibited by Cribb had completely terrified all their boasted valour into submission. It was soon afterwards learned in the village that the row in question had been with Gully and Cribb.
Cribb and the Navvy.—A navigator, from Lancashire, as big and as rough an article as can be imagined, prompted, it is supposed, by the great pugilistic success of Carter, took a turn, on Thursday evening, November 7, 1816, in the neighbourhood of Westminster, and suddenly pounced on the Champion of England and Tom Oliver, in the friendly act of blowing a cloud together. Without waiting for the formality of an introduction to those heroes of the fist, he boasted of his milling pretensions, and sans cérémonie, challenged Oliver for a turn-up. The coat of Oliver was half way off to resent this unprovoked attack upon his prowess, but Cribb forbade it, observing that the navigator was too heavy, and that he should be more fitted to accommodate this hasty customer, having no doubt but that he should quickly alter his opinion of his own capabilities. The parties retired to a large shed at the back of the house, when a turn-up commenced without further delay. The navigator run in like a bull, head foremost, and endeavoured to bring the Champion down after the Lancashire method, by seizing hold of his thighs; but he failed in his attempts most wofully, for in five minutes he was so punished that he cried out, “I yeald.” Cribb left him to reflect on his folly, but in the course of a few minutes he came in and again insisted upon having another set-to with “the stout ’un.” This was agreed to, but the navigator soon adopted his former phrase of “I yeald!” Cribb now retired, supposing he had given complete satisfaction; but it was not long before he was compelled to renew the combat for the third time with this dissatisfied brute. The navigator resorted to purring, and endeavoured to effect a conquest by hugging; but Cribb clareted him in all directions, and marked his body so severely, that he now could scarcely articulate the provincial, “I yeald!” The only regret expressed by the Champion was that, during an attack of twenty minutes, he could not put in a straight blow, as the navigator never stood up like a man, merely attempting by foul means to throw or disable his man. Cribb returned home without a scratch, while the man of mud received an important lesson on the advantages of science.
The Champion and the Jew.—The placid and forbearing character of Cribb is strikingly illustrated in the following incident. Cribb, in passing through Fore Street, Cripplegate, was most grossly insulted by a Jew of the name of Simmonds, who, valuing himself upon his manhood, and not knowing whom he was in contact with, endeavoured to give our hero a facer. The Champion, with the utmost composure, seized hold of this mere apology for a boxer (in his hands), yet disdained to inflict that sort of punishment which, had he given way to passion, from his well-known strength and science, must in all probability nearly annihilated this presuming Israelite. Instead of this, however, Tom instantly compelled Mordecai to go before the Lord Mayor to answer for the assault. His Lordship, on hearing the case, was struck with the magnanimity displayed by Cribb on this occasion, and highly praised him for his manliness of temper, at the same time reprimanding the Jew severely for his improper behaviour. The Jew was, however, discharged on paying the costs, upon the Champion good-naturedly interposing to prevent a fine.
Cribb and Massa Kendrick.—A sable hero, well known in the fancy circles as Massa Kendrick, was brought before Mr. Birnie, at Bow Street, on a Bench warrant, for an assault on the Champion of England. The African kicked most confoundedly at finding himself in the grasp of the law. When told by the magistrate that he must find good and sufficient bail, he exclaimed, “Bail! what ‘casion for bail? Massa Cribb the most quarrelsomest man in all England. He’s a fighting man, and I’m a fighting man, and if I gibs him punch ob the head, and he gib me another, what that to anumbody else? What the use ob talking about bail?” In reply to this tirade the Champion calmly observed, “If I was not to take such a step as this now and then, I could not carry on my business, or even live in my own house, for these swaggering blackguards.” He then explained to the magistrate that the defendant was noisy and riotous in his house, and in consequence he insisted on his leaving; but, instead of doing so, he seized the Champion by the cravat, and attempted to extinguish his glories by strangulation, at the same time placing his hand under his thigh, apparently with the intention of throwing him. “But,” said the Champion, “that was all my eye, for I put him down.” Kendrick was about to retort, but the magistrate stopped his mouth, by ordering him to find the required bail.
The Champion and his Dwarf.—To these proofs of courage and forbearance we will append a sample or two of his humanity, an unfailing accompaniment of true valour.
Our hero made his bow before the magistrate on Wednesday, December 18, 1822, as the friend and protector of the helpless, in the person of a German dwarf, named John Hauptman. This little fellow, whose extreme altitude was forty inches, obtained a living during many years by hiring himself out as an exhibition to itinerant showmen. But his day had gone by—other and more youthful dwarfs had superseded him in the public favour, and poverty was pressing heavily on his head, when, in the midst of his destitution, accident led him to the hospitable fireside of Tom Cribb. The Champion listened to his tale of poverty; cheered his frame with the comforts of his bar and his larder, and told him he was welcome to stay at the Union Arms till he could find a better shelter, and he resided there as a sort of assistant waiter.
A drunken hackney-coach master, named Beckett, during the champion’s absence, on the previous Monday, not only insulted the little fellow, but encouraged his son, a lad of about ten years old, to beat him, and for this outrage on his protégé, the Champion now sought redress.