It would be superfluous to detail the remainder of the rounds, in number thirty-eight. Complete sameness pervaded the whole of them; and Sam, who had hitherto portrayed the hero, now scarcely exhibited the traits of a second-rate pugilist. The ferocity which had so terrified his opponents was no longer visible; indeed he exhibited weakness and distress early in the fight. It is curious to remark that he never once knocked down Nosworthy; but, on the contrary, was either floored or went down every round, with the exception of about three. Still the friends of Sam, and particularly those denominated “the flash side,” relying on his experience and judgment, flattered themselves it was all right, that he was aiming to bring down Nosworthy to his own pitch, to obtain any conquest, and give a good opportunity of betting. But they wofully deceived themselves; the wished for change never arrived.
Remarks.—Nosworthy proved himself a confident boxer. If his movements were not equal to the scientific precision of Tom Belcher, his undaunted resolution and courage, from the commencement to the termination of the fight, reminded many of the spectators of that peculiar forte of Bill Hooper. The Baker was a two-handed hitter, and seemed perfectly awake to the business before him. From this mode of attack the debilitated Jew stood no chance whatever. The strength of Sam, once so much the theme of his backers, was missing, and he appeared a mere shadow of his former self. He could not knock down Nosworthy, or even hit him away. This defeat of a great favourite may operate as a useful lesson: youth and strength must be served; and never was the position more clearly and decisively shown than in this instance. Sam was turned of forty-one years of age, and his irregularities of life must have dilapidated as fine a constitution as was ever possessed by man. His opponent, a young man of twenty-eight, was in good health, of great strength, and weighed a stone and a half more than the Jew; besides, we are to take into the scale that Nosworthy was not destitute of skill, and possessed unimpeachable bottom, which had shown itself in all the battles he had fought. But calculation was out of the question. The game of chance, even, was completely lost sight of. “To a certainty, to a certainty,” was the cry of nearly the whole of the fancy; and any opinion expressed in favour of the Baker was instantly silenced by four to one, treated as a want of judgment, and laughed at with derision and contempt. Upon Sam’s resigning the contest, a general consternation took place among the backers of the hero. If the Jews were weighed down with grief, the Christians were equally miserable and chapfallen at this unexpected defeat. So complete a cleaning out, it is supposed, had not taken place in the boxing world, since the conquest obtained by Slack. It is computed that, in different parts of the kingdom, £100,000 at least were lost upon this battle. In the dismay of the moment, the exclamations of the losers were loud and vehement. “’Tis impossible!” said many. “It must be a cross!” The combatants did not appear to be so much punished as might have been expected. But the case was altered; instead of giving, as heretofore, Sam now received punishment. Sam must have suffered terribly from the repeated knock-down blows he experienced; but his frame was of so close a texture that it did not exhibit marks of punishment like most other men. This was an important point towards victory on his side, by disheartening his antagonists, who, however they might mill him, could not see the result of their efforts, from Sam’s appearing fresh and unhurt. Had Sam properly attended to his training, had he viewed the consequences of the battle in the light of an experienced veteran, bearing in mind that he had everything to lose, and but little to gain, the sequel might have proved different. His experience and judgment should also have pointed to him, that youth, strength, science, and determined resolution were not to be disposed of as matters of course; that it was not a mere sporting article he had to pink for his amusement—one who had presumptuously dared to enter the lists against so mighty and renowned a chief. Some caution, it might be presumed, was necessary when it was also known to him his antagonist was above a novice; that Nosworthy was an energetic boxer, aspiring to reach the top of the tree. But the conquests of Sam had made him forget himself. Fame and flattery had cheated him. The whole race of pugilists viewed him as a phenomenon, and impressed with this character, it should seem, latterly, that poor Sam “had crept so much into favour with himself,” that he vainly imagined he had only to appear in the ring, and his name alone was sufficient to vanquish any pugilist who might have the temerity to oppose him. He at length fell a victim to “self-conceit” and ill-timed flattery.
The fame which Nosworthy earned on this occasion led to several challenges, among others to one from the renowned and hardy Scroggins, which he accepted, and they met on June 16, 1815, at Moulsey Hurst. The details of this battle will be found in the Life of Scroggins, p. 416, who was on this, as on many other hard fought fields, the conqueror. His friends attributed this defeat to bad condition; but the truth seems to be that in Scroggins, Bill Nosworthy met a miller of his own stamp.
Bill was afterwards matched to fight George Curtis, but the latter paid forfeit from ill-health.
Nosworthy felt his defeat by the hardy little tar, and never recovered his usual spirits. Dissipation and excessive drinking hurried him into a consumption, and in the last stage of this frightful disease, he, with the assistance of a few friends, left London for Lympstor, in Devonshire; but, in October 26, 1816, while resting at Exeter, he received his final knock-down, scarcely surviving the Jew three months. His connections in Devon were very respectable, and his manners, until depraved by excessive drink, pleasing, while his appearance was prepossessing.
BEN BURN (“UNCLE BEN”)—1810–1834.
There was nothing in the pugilistic exploits of the first of the Burn family (“Uncle Ben,” as he was afterwards termed, on account of the higher merits of his “nevvy”) to deserve particular record. He was well known as a sparrer with the “big ’uns” at the Fives Court, a match-maker, a second, a ring attendant, and a sporting publican. He beat J. Christie on Highgate Common, January 1, 1810, for 40 guineas. Fought Flanagan for 100 guineas, March 27, 1814, whom he also defeated. His after fights were with Dogherty, Silverthorne, Palmer Jones, Tom Spring, and Tom Oliver, by all of whom he was beaten. He also had a set-to with “Gibletts” (Charles Grantham), whom he beat in twenty minutes in a room fight in Bow Street, June 13, 1821. His last appearance (which is omitted under his name in “Fistiana”) was with Old Tom Oliver, in 1834, who defeated him at Hampton in six rounds, twenty-four minutes, for £25 a-side, as will be seen under the Memoir of Oliver.
HARRY HARMER, THE COPPERSMITH—1812–1815.
This scientific pugilist was allied to the family of the Belchers, and was born in the place known as the Horse Fair, Bristol, in 1784. His sparring was for many years the theme of admiration. His height, five feet eight inches and a half; his weight, eleven stone and a few pounds. It does not appear that Harmer, although reared in the hot-bed of pugilists, exhibited in any public scientific contest previous to his arrival in the metropolis.
The superior style he displayed in his first battle with Maltby, the latter having vanquished George Cribb and Cope, brought Harmer into notice with the admirers of pugilism. With Jack Ford, in his second contest, he also rose a step higher; and in his third and last battle, with Shelton, he established his reputation as a game and first-rate boxer.