Before our hero was suffered to realise the title of the Champion of the Argo, the best men in the ship were pitted against him; but it would be beneath the dignity of our history to record the undistinguished names of the mere commoners who fell beneath the conquering arm of Scroggy, who, notwithstanding his pugilistic penchant, was the life and soul of the ship, and as remarkable for his readiness to assist a weaker messmate as to promote the general mirth of the crew. His practical jokes and general good humour were long the standing talk of the Argo’s galley. Toogood, a man of colour, of first-rate weight, and possessing prodigious strength, had a regular battle with our hero on board the Argo. Notwithstanding his athletic powers, Scroggins compelled him to strike his colours.
A caulker, a tall, strong, bony man, who came on board the Argo to make some repairs, presuming on his strength, took off the boiler and placed his frying-pan on the fire, in defiance of the whole mess. Scroggins at length appeared, and took the fellow’s frying-pan from off the fire. A fight was the immediate consequence; but the caulker was so often floored, met with such severe punishment, and was so chaffed by the whole ship’s crew, that out of revenge he complained to the captain of Scroggins, and our hero was compelled to stand and take two dozen lashes, or, what is called in the old sea phrase, a “dry holy-stoning.”
Scroggins had scarcely set his foot on terra firma, when he had a turn up with two dragoons, before the door of the Prince of Wales, at Woolwich. Notwithstanding the heavy force Scroggins had to contend against, our little hero bustled through it with so much true courage, that in the course of a few minutes he came off triumphant, having floored both the soldiers with ease.
Scroggins’ first battle in the ring, after his return from sea, was with Jack Boots (whose real name was Wilford), at Wilsden Green, in 1814, for one guinea a-side. It was a fight without training, and took place entirely from accident. Boots, it seems, had previously talked about fighting our hero, and both of them meeting at the above place to partake of the diversion afforded by Caleb Baldwin’s Bull, they instantly agreed to decide the dispute in question, upon Scroggins observing to Boots, “that he thought they were as capable of amusing the amateurs as the bull had done.” In consequence of this agreement the sports of the day closed, unexpectedly, with a regular mill. Upon the bull’s quitting the ground a ring was immediately formed, and Scroggins and Boots, without further preface, set-to. The latter was well known, from having fought several battles; but Scroggins was a complete stranger to the fighting circles. It was a punishing mill for sixty minutes, during which period the pantomimic tricks exhibited by Scroggins occasioned roars of laughter; he, however, displayed all the fortitude of a sailor bent on obtaining victory. Anything like a regular system of tactics he appeared to despise, and scrambled his way in to mill his adversary; but, notwithstanding this nondescript boxing, his hits were so tremendously sent home, that Boots could not resist their desperate effects. The friends of Boots perceiving that he must eventually lose, were about to resort to some manœuvres to prevent Scroggy from being proclaimed the conqueror. This conduct was observed by old Joe Ward, who was standing in a cart viewing the battle; and although he was severely afflicted with the rheumatism in both knees, he hastily jumped out and made for the ring, where he insisted upon fair play being observed between the combatants. Scroggins was ultimately declared the victor. The spirited conduct of the latter so pleased the amateurs that £4 were collected for him as a reward for his exertions.
The friends of Scroggins, not without reason, thought, from this specimen, that there was good stuff in him. Accordingly, Dolly Smith was selected as a game active boxer, and a good trial man for the hardy little tar. The battle was contested at Coombe Warren, on Wednesday, January 11, 1815, in a twenty feet roped ring, for 20 guineas a-side. Smith was seconded by Bill Cropley; Scroggins was attended by Richmond and Oliver.
Smith was well known as a boxer, and considered a good man, from his game battle with Dick Hares the previous year, on the same ground, while Scroggins was scarcely known to any person connected with the ring. He was viewed by the amateurs as an ambitious adventurer, a rough and daring commoner, opposed to science and experience; the betting was, in consequence, five to four upon Smith. The combatants in point of weight were nearly equal. The first round proved a good specimen of the whole fight; but the impetuosity of the “hardy tar” was so overwhelming, that the science of Smith, however well applied, could not prevent its conquering effects. Scroggins’ singular mode of attack astonished the spectators. Immediately on receiving a hit from his opponent, he went resolutely in to mill, protecting his head with his left hand over it, like a ship running in to attack a fort or shore battery, dealing out terrible punishment with his right hand, and thus took the lead and kept it, although he was opposed in the most manly and skilful style by Smith, who was not long in darkening one of the peepers of the sailor. Scroggins fought at the body with dogged determination, and had the advantage in a striking degree in throwing, Smith experiencing some severe cross-buttocks and desperate falls. Smith, too, was frequently out of distance, and hit over instead of punishing his adversary’s nob. It was a determined battle on both sides, and Smith did not disgrace his character in defeat. The blows of Scroggins were terrible, and he was never off his pins but once during the battle. For three quarters of an hour it was rattling hard fighting, at the end of which time Smith was so severely beaten, that he was compelled to cry “enough.”
The milling fame which Nosworthy had acquired by his conquest of the renowned but worn-out Dutch Sam, at Moulsey, on the 8th of December, 1814, rendered him an object of no small attraction in the milling sphere. Scroggins, it seems, was eager to make a dash; his ambition soared above commoners, and he viewed the victorious baker as a competitor worthy of his aspirings. Some little time, however, elapsed before he was accommodated; at last they met on the 6th of June, 1815, at Moulsey Hurst, for £50 a-side. Belcher and Gibbons seconded Scroggins; Cribb and Clark picked up Nosworthy. The patrons of pugilism mustered very strongly upon this occasion, and the “crusty coves” of the metropolis felt so confident the Master of the Rolls would gain the cause, that, the evening previous to the fight, they laid the odds of five to four with cheerfulness and alacrity. Nosworthy had won his late battle with such seeming ease, that no doubt was entertained by his admirers as to the issue. At one the men set-to.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—The notoriety Nosworthy had obtained in conquering the Jew phenomenon created intense interest, and every eye was on the combatants setting to. A short time elapsed in sparring, when Scroggins made a good hit; the Baker, in return, missed his aim. Some heavy milling occurred, when they closed, and both went down; Nosworthy undermost, Scroggins heavily on him. (Five to four on Scroggins already.)
2.—Nosworthy appeared bleeding at the scratch. Determined fighting was the order of this round; and both the men seemed bent upon proving each other’s courage. Hit for hit was returned with as much indifference as if their bodies were insensible to feeling; and, although both of them were frequently hit away, they returned to the attack. The rally was dreadful, and Nosworthy was, at length, sent down.