Spring now mounted the stage, and thus addressed the spectators:—“Gentlemen, I once more present myself to your notice; but as my old dad has retired from the stage and the prize ring altogether, and as I have stood next to him for some time past, I mean now to stand in his place, till I am beat out of it!” An amateur and Spring went up to Tom Belcher, and informed him that Spring was ready to fight Neate for £300. “Very well,” replied the hero of the Castle; “now I know what you mean, we will talk about it. I shall name it to Neate.” The result of this challenge will be fully recorded in the Life of Tom Spring, opening the next period.
From this time Tom led the life of a retired veteran, but his house was the rendezvous of sporting men. Cribb, however, occasionally figured in the public prints, for then, as now, noisy, troublesome, and drunken fellows annoyed licensed victuallers in their business. The Morning Herald thus reports a “Morning at Bow Street.”
“Cribb and his Customer.—The Champion brought a little shrivelled tailor before Sir Robert Baker, on Tuesday, December 12, 1820, at Bow Street, and charged the ninth part of a man with calling him, the said Champion, ‘a great big fighting cove;’ with exclaiming, ‘Oh, that I was but big enough to whop you!’ and with frequenting his house, the Union Arms Tavern, Panton Street, for the purpose of abusing him and annoying his company. In reply to this, the little remnant of shreds and patches looked up in the champion’s face, and humbly begged his pardon, promising most solemnly, before his worship, never to offend in the like manner again. Cribb’s placability is well known; he, who has so often stood unshaken before the stoutest hearts in the ring, could not stand this pathetic appeal from a forlorn little tailor, and, relaxing his features into a smile, he confessed himself appeased, but trusted Master Snip would get rid of his bad habits in future, and never more measure his way to the Union Arms: or else if he did, Cribb said he would cut his cloth in a way that he would not like. The hero of the needle was in consequence discharged. The magistrate observed that he had heard the various houses kept by the champion to have always been conducted with the utmost propriety. Cribb moved his castor and retired.”
Here is another of Tom’s magisterial interviews.
“The Three Tailors.—Three natty tailors were charged, at Marlborough Street Police Office, in September, 1826, with creating a disturbance, and assaulting Thomas Cribb, the ex-champion of England. The defendants went into Cribb’s house, where they partook of some liquor. After a few minutes they commenced a disturbance, and he requested them to be quiet; but they swore at him, and challenged him to fight. One of them being pot-valiant, struck him. The example was followed by the others, who insisted on his having a turn with them. A person said, “No, Cribb, don’t strike the three tailors, who are only the third part of a man!” The astonished tailors, on hearing his name mentioned, took up their clothes and ran quickly out of the house; but Cribb, determining to teach them better, pursued and lodged them in the hands of the watchman. Sir George Farrant: ‘Did they beat you?’ Cribb, smiling: ‘No, their blows were something like themselves—of little importance.’ Sir George Farrant: ‘Did you return the blow?’ Cribb: ‘No, sir, I was afraid of hurting ’em; I should not like to do that.’ The tailors in their defence, said they were sorry for what had occurred; at the same time, they were not aware that the person whom they had challenged to fight was the Champion: on finding their mistake they instantly left his house. Sir George Farrant: ‘Aye, you thought you had better try the lightness of your heels than the weight of his fists.’ Cribb declined making any charge against them, and they were discharged on paying their fees.”
“Cribb and the Cobbler.—In the same month the ex-champion again made his bow before the beak; but, on this occasion, Bow Street was honoured with his portly presence, where he charged a cobbler with causing a disturbance in his house. Cribb said that the prisoner was, about two years ago, very annoying, and he ordered him never to enter his house again. A few days ago he renewed his visit; and on Wednesday night he was most riotous and abusive. He (Cribb) did not care much for his abuse; but he could not contain himself when the cobbler had the impudence to begin abusing the king: he seized him under the arms, and dropped him gently in the street. The magistrate told Cribb that he had on this, as on all other occasions, evinced great forbearance, and directed the warrant to stand over; and, if the prisoner annoyed him again, he would be committed to prison.”
Cribb’s declining years, however, were disturbed by domestic troubles and severe pecuniary losses; and after a long struggle against adverse circumstances, produced by lending money and becoming responsible for a relative, he was forced to give up the Union Arms to his creditors. His last appearance was on November 12, 1840, when under the auspices of the Pugilistic Association, he took a benefit at the National Baths, Westminster Road. At this time, and for some years previously, Cribb had resided at the house of his son, a baker, in the High Street, Woolwich, where he died on the 11th of May, 1848, aged 67.
CRIBB’S MONUMENT.
The editor of Bell’s Life (Vincent G. Dowling, Esq.), and some friends and admirers of the champion, having resolved to erect a monument to his memory, the matter was thus spoken of in the columns of the leading sporting paper of England, in the beginning of 1851.
“Among the interesting incidents connected with the approaching season of the Great Exhibition, we have much pleasure in announcing the completion of the long promised monument to the memory of Tom Cribb, one of the most justly esteemed champions of the pugilistic school of England. As a professor of his art he was matchless, and as a demonstrator of fair play, in principle and in practice, he was never excelled. He had still a higher virtue, displayed in sustaining throughout his gallant career, independent of indomitable courage—a reputation for unimpeachable integrity and unquestionable humanity. His hand was ever open to the distresses of his fellow-creatures, and whether they befell friend or foe, he promptly, by relieving them, exhibited the influence of the charitable and kindly impulses of a truly benevolent heart—an example well worthy of imitation, and justly entitling him to the present distinction, which, while it cherishes his memory, will show to others of his class, who follow in his steps, that their good deeds will live beyond the grave.