EDWARD HUNT—1746–1758.

This favourite pupil of Broughton continually appears in his master’s advertisements. He was a boxer of first-rate science, as then practised, with unquestionable courage, extreme hardihood, and remarkable activity. Though barely five feet five inches, and weighing but nine stone, he often fought and defeated men of large stature, and vastly his superiors in weight. “Being constantly overmatched, he had more difficulties to encounter than any other boxer on the list, and of the few instances of ‘shifting’ which occurred in his time, he is the most singular, for he conquered the stoutest men by his admirable art. With strength so much beyond his own opposed to him he might have been allowed to drop, but he seldom fell without a blow. He never confined himself to one attitude, for, being extremely active, he found he could more effectually confuse his antagonist by continually changing his guard. He endeavoured to avoid blows aimed at his body by stepping aside, and then took an opportunity of dexterously ‘winding’ his man, who was driven forward by his own force. If a blow was aimed at his head, he stooped to let his adversary’s arm pass over him, and then succeeded in general in planting a good body blow. These manœuvres proved highly advantageous to Hunt in his pugilistic career, for his opponents became aware of these practices, and accordingly fought on the defensive, by which means he became the assailant, and avoided being overwhelmed by their superior power.” This is the description of a consummate boxer by a master hand; quoted in “Pancratia,” pp. 50, 51. “What a picture of a combination of the styles of Young Dutch Sam and Bendigo! With this before you read Pierce Egan’s stuff about Hunt’s not “fearing the disparagement (sic) between him and his lofty opponent,” and “stood up to Hawksley prime as a game cock,” etc. The contemporary account of Hunt’s battle with Hawksley is brief:—

“On June 11th (1746) a very severe battle was contested at the Amphitheatre between Edward Hunt, a pupil of Mr. Broughton’s, weighing only nine stone,[[25]] and one Hawksley a Life-guardsman, who weighed seventeen stone. The odds before fighting were ten to one in favour of Hawksley. The battle lasted only ten minutes, during which the odds changed in favour of Hunt, who was declared the victor.” This affair is most unaccountable; shifting, and the “planting” of a nine stone man, could hardly have beaten Hawksley in ten minutes, unless he was out of condition, drunk, or a coward.

His next great battle was with Smallwood (1757), already narrated; and his last recorded appearance was with Richard Mills, a game boxer, known by the name of “the Onion Boy,” May 17, 1758, at Islington. After an hour’s severe fighting, Hunt, upon whom large odds were betted, was compelled to surrender.

BUCKHORSE (JOHN SMITH)—1732–1746.

There was one pugilist of this period, whose name we rather introduce as a remarkable lusus naturæ than as an illustrator of the noble art. This individual was John Smith, more commonly known as Buckhorse. The following particulars are chiefly derived from a memoir which appeared in the “Eccentric Magazine.”

BUCKHORSE (John Smith), 1732–1746.
After an Etching by William Hogarth.

“Buckhorse, whose real name is said to have been John Smith, first saw the light in the house of a sinner, in that part of London known by the name of Lewkner’s Lane, a place notorious in the extreme for the eccentricity of the characters it contained: here the disciples of Bamfylde Moore Carew were to be found in crowds, and cadgers of all descriptions resorted to regale themselves upon the good things of this life, laughing at the credulity of the public in being so easily duped by their impositions; and here the juvenile prig was soon taught to become an adept in the profession, by taking out a handkerchief or a snuff-box, from the pocket of a coat covered with bells, without ringing any of them. In these slums the finished thief roosted from the prying eyes of society, and laid plans for his future depredations.

“It appears, then, that few places could boast of more originality of character than that from which Buckhorse sprang; and, from the variety of talents here displayed, there is little doubt he did not remain long a novice. As we have never been troubled with any account to what good-natured personage he owed his origin, we cannot determine; but suffice it to observe, that little Buckhorse and his mother were turned out upon the wide world, long before he knew its slippery qualities, by the cruel publican, their landlord, which inhuman circumstance took place about the year 1720.