In the year 1742 differences arose between Broughton, now in the highest favour with the Duke William of Cumberland (afterwards so fatally known at Culloden in the year ’46), and other distinguished patrons of the Ring. The schism, which was fatal to George Taylor’s establishment, will be noticed in our Life of Broughton, and ended in Taylor’s joining Broughton’s company of “champions” in 1744–5, after a sounding challenge to that boxer.
From this period George Taylor appears to have held his own in numerous displays, but nothing of importance occurred till his memorable battle with Slack (see Slack), a butcher from Norwich, afterwards so renowned for his conquest of the great Broughton. Taylor’s battle with Slack has come down with no details, farther than that it lasted twenty-five minutes, and was a display of steady coolness and science over rushing impetuosity. Slack proved an awkward fellow to keep off, but George was too wary, and in less than half-an-hour the butcher was beaten to a stand-still.
Among the patrons of “the noble art,” during the period of George Taylor’s proprietorship of the Great Booth, may be numbered Frederick, Prince of Wales, the father of George the Third, before whom we may fairly infer Taylor many times exhibited. It was not then the custom, except incidentally, to give the people anything like our present “Court Circular,” thus keeping the general public au courant to the movements of royalty and its branches. We find, however, among the works of Paul Whitehead, the poet, who is styled by Captain Thompson, his biographer, “The Champion and Bard of Leicester House,”[[17]] a poem entitled, “The Gymnasiad, or Boxing Match.” It is printed entire in the edition of his collected works. Dodsley, London, 1777.
Taylor, when he retired from the stage, became landlord of the Fountain Inn at Deptford. But as the old war-horse is said to prick his ears at the sound of the trumpet, so, although declining in the vale of years, he replied to the challenge of Tom Faulkner, “the noted cricketer.” Tom, it appears, had twice been worsted by Taylor, in bygone days; yet he felt so confident he could reverse the verdict, that he challenged George for 200 guineas and “the gate money.” They met on August the 5th, 1758, at a mile and a-half from St. Alban’s, Herts. The betting was three to one on Taylor, who is called in the account “the old successor of Fig.” It would appear that there was “no love lost” between the combatants. It was a complete hammering set-to. For the first twelve or thirteen rounds, Faulkner was dreadfully punished and floored several times. The fourteenth round proved a proper trial of skill and strength; at length, Faulkner levelled Taylor, when the odds began to drop a little, and Faulkner was getting into favour. George, finding that his man gained upon him, began to shift, and fell now and then without a blow, which occasioned considerable murmuring, and the friends of Faulkner insisted that he had won the battle; but Faulkner was above taking any advantage and wished to fight it out. The combatants set-to more furiously than ever.
Taylor, inspired with the thought of his fame and former victories, stood up like a hero; and Faulkner, recollecting that it must either make or break him, fought like a lion. After a terrible conflict of an hour and fifteen minutes, the veteran George Taylor acknowledged he was conquered. Greater courage and skill could not be displayed; and it was supposed, that had not Taylor laboured under the manifest disadvantage of an eye of which he had been blind for some time, Faulkner could not have beaten him; as the contest was only put an end to by Taylor having the other eye closed from a blow. The veteran hero thus added another to the list of great men who have “lingered too long upon the stage,” or returned to exhibit those powers in their decadence which were admired in their prime. “We shall have many occasions in the course of this history to show the unconsciousness of decaying powers among the heroes of the ring. George Taylor did not recover the shock of this defeat, and died in the December following (1758) at his house at Deptford.”
CHAPTER III.
JACK BROUGHTON (CHAMPION)—1734–1750.
Broughton is indisputably entitled to be regarded as the founder of the modern art of self-defence. The successor of Fig in popularity, he far exceeded that stalwart cudgeller in fistic science, and in the application of those principles which stripped the practice of boxing of many of those features of ruffianism and barbarity with which the unregulated contests of mere bruisers had invested it. There was a neatness and quickness in his style which far distanced his competitors, and drew crowds to witness his exhibitions. He appears first to have introduced stopping and barring blows, then hitting and getting away; before him it appears to have been toe-to-toe work, or downright hammering; at any rate, his method appears to have had the novelty of a discovery with his spectators and his antagonists. He stopped the blows aimed at any part of him by his adversaries with so much skill, and hit his man away with so much ease, that he astonished and daunted his opponents, and those persons who had the temerity to enter the lists with Broughton, were soon convinced of his superior knowledge and athletic prowess: while most of his competitors, who were compelled to give in from their exhausted and beaten state, had the mortification to behold Broughton scarcely touched, displaying as much cheerfulness and indifference as if he had scarcely been engaged in a set-to.
He was indebted to nature for a good person; his countenance was manly and open, possessing a sharp and penetrating eye, that almost looked through the object before him, which gave animation to his face. His form was athletic and commanding, and denoted uncommon strength. Every spectator felt impressed who beheld him. Six feet, wanting an inch, in height, and fourteen stone, or thereabouts, in weight.