A noted Birmingham pugilist (the “Hardware Village” has always been renowned for boxers) hight Joe Higgins, “who had fought fifteen battles, in all of which he had been the conqueror,”[[36]] challenged Hood. He had miscalculated his skill. They met July 23, 1778, when Hood gave him so severe a beating as, says the authority just quoted, “taught him the proper respect due to a scientific pugilist.”
The tide of battle now turned against Hood. On the 8th of September, 1778, after a severe attack of illness, Joe met “the Bristol Boy,” Peter Bath, at Maidenhead races, for £50 a-side. “The bets were two to one in Joe’s favour, notwithstanding his indifferent health.” Joe soon “found himself entirely unable to cope with his opponent, and gave in after fighting twenty minutes, when Bath[[37]] was hailed the conqueror.”
On the 4th of September, 1779, Hood was again unsuccessful in a pitched battle in Smithfield with William Day, an active and game pugilist. This seems to have been Joe’s last appearance as a principal, his constitution being impaired.
CHAPTER V.
TOM JOHNSON (THOMAS JACKLING). CHAMPION OF ENGLAND—1783–1791.
Tom Johnson, whose real name was Jackling, was a native of Derby, although a general claim of Yorkshire extraction has been made for him, and “Boxiana” so states it; followed, of course, by “Fights for the Championship,” London, 1855. However, as he signs himself “Thomas Jackling, of Derby,” in a printed letter, the point is not worth disputing. He surely could himself have no motive for such a misrepresentation.
Johnson, for we shall retain his popular name, was certainly a hero among heroes; and if Tom was inferior to Broughton in science, he came certainly nearest of any man that had hitherto appeared to that phœnix of pugilistic skill. Nature had endowed him with unusual strength of body, and he was universally admitted to possess a careful and precise style of hitting. His courage was of the highest order, and he possessed a constitutional coolness of disposition and temper. Johnson was born in 1750, the very year that Jack Slack defeated his prototype, the champion Broughton, and at an early age repaired to London, where he followed the laborious occupation of a corn-porter, on a wharf near Old Swan Stairs. His surprising strength was paralleled by his kindness of heart; and while in this employment an anecdote is recorded of him which deserves preservation. Johnson’s fellow porter was taken ill, and being burdened with a wife and a numerous family, dependent on his labour for support, they were likely to be reduced to want, had not Johnson immediately undertaken (unknown to them) to do his fellow porter’s work, as well as his own. The warehouses where the corn was deposited were situated at some distance from the wharf, at the end of a court, denominated, from its steepness, “Labour-in-vain Court,” and to which place Tom carried every journey two sacks of corn instead of one, and gave the money to his family, till his fellow porter was able to return to his work. We would recommend this anecdote for extract in the next number of the “Evangelical Magazine;” it can be much better authenticated than most of the “lose-nothing” benevolences of their portrait-loving “labourers in the vineyard.”
As we prefer truth unadorned to clumsy rhetoric we have here merely paraphrased what we find in contemporaries, and, where advisable, resorted to acknowledged quotations. “After he (Johnson) had assumed the profession of the gymnasium (somewhat pedantic this, but the writer as he goes on becomes more natural), he soon proved the most effective among the whole race of modern athletæ. His strength, science, and astonishing bottom gave him rank superior to all his contemporaries, but his greatest excellence was his surprising coolness and judgment. It may appear somewhat ridiculous to the inconsiderate, and those prejudiced against the art, to attempt panegyric upon the mental gifts of a pugilist, but where such a merit did or does exist, it is a duty incumbent on those who are just and impartial to record it. The natural powers of Johnson’s mind, although not developed by the care of what the schoolmaster calls fostering education, were remarkably extensive and capable of the accomplishment of great difficulties. Unlike many pugilists, who seldom form any rules for their guidance in emergencies until they find themselves on the stage, he invariably, long before, determined on a system of conduct adapted to his own advantage, and calculated to defeat the style of his adversary. To effect this, he calmly balanced the respective abilities of his opponents, their tempers, power, and mode of attack, and particularly noted the constitution and disposition of his opponent. His grand principle in fighting was never unnecessarily to expose himself to danger, nor hazard anything which could be obtained with certainty by waiting. By acting on this plan, he frequently at the conclusion of a battle, was nearly in as good condition as at its commencement; for though confident when first setting-to of an easy conquest, his prudence led him to protract an engagement, which perhaps he could not speedily terminate, unless by endangering himself. He usually, therefore, acted on the defensive, and never made a blow but when confident of getting home. If his opponent was cool, he was cooler; if warm and precipitate, he endeavoured to make him still more so, by using every justifiable measure to disappoint and baffle him; but he never took advantage of his man by unfair manœuvres.”[[38]] This description, despite a certain stiffness of the old school, is written by a master, and an appreciator of the art.
A few casual turns-up had shown the bent of Johnson’s natural genius for fistic fame; and at 23 years of age, in June, 1783, he met a carman of the name of Jarvis in Lock’s Fields, Walworth. The skill of Johnson, a supposed novice opposed to a practised boxer, astonished the spectators. Jarvis was severely thrashed, and Tom’s fame spread abroad.