James Scott was the lightest man who won the head prize in the Carlisle ring about his own time; and what is much more curious, the only Scotchman who ever accomplished the same feat. Indeed, it seems up to Scott's time, and since, too, that the borderers on the Scotch side did not take as much pleasure in the pastime as those dwelling on the English side.
Scott was born and brought up at Oarnlee, in the picturesque parish of Canonbie, in Dumfriesshire, within a few miles distance from the roofless tower of Gilnockie, the ancient stronghold of the noted border free-booter, Johnny Armstrong, of whose tragic fate in the presence of the Scottish king, the old minstrel thus sings:—
But then rose up all Edenborough,
They rose up by thousands three;
A cowardly Scot came John behind,
And run him through the fair bodye.
Said John, "Fight on my merry men all,
I am a little wounded, but not slain;
I will lay me down to bleed a while,
Then I'll rise, and fight with you again."
James Scott stood about five feet nine inches high, and weighed between eleven and twelve stones. Litt surmises that he was more than thirteen stones; but according to the most reliable authorities, this is much beyond the mark. He was a "tight built, streight, beàny mak' iv a fellow, withoot a particle o' lowse flesh aboot him." In the ring, he became noted as a quick striker, and bore the reputation of being a good scientific wrestler.
He never went much from home to contend, and, excepting in the Carlisle ring, is only known to have wrestled at the village gatherings, along the borders. He does not figure among the thirty-two men, who wrestled at the first annual meeting at Carlisle, in 1809. In the following year, when double that number contended, we think it hardly likely that he put in an appearance; but on this point we cannot speak with any amount of confidence, as there is no list of names known to be in existence.
In 1811, however, he did good service in the Carlisle ring, by throwing Joseph Wilson, John Hall, Joseph Coates, and William Richardson of Caldbeck; but sustained defeat at the hands of John Earl of Cumwhitton, in the fifth round. For the second prize of the same year, he was cleverly thrown by George Little of Sebergham, (and not again by John Earl, as stated by Litt.)
At the Carlisle meeting held on Tuesday, the 20th day of September, 1812, the favourite north-country pastime attracted an immense gathering of spectators to the Swifts. Although the prizes offered amounted in all to the handsome sum of twenty guineas, there was a noticeable falling off in the attendance of wrestlers. Only forty-eight names were entered for the principal competition—the most noteworthy absentees being Tom Nicholson, (who was suffering from an accident at the Greystoke festival,) John Earl of Cumwhitton, Robert Rowantree of Bewcastle, and Harry Graham of Brigham.
Scott, who was then in his twenty-fourth year, turned up on the Swifts "i' grand fettle," and wrestled through the ring with much spirit, tact, and determination. The unexpected fall of William Mackereth of Cockermouth, the first time over, removed at least one formidable rival. John Jordan of Great Salkeld, falling in one of the subsequent rounds, left the coast as good as clear to Scott and Richardson, who ultimately came together in the final fall. Although wanting in the height, weight, and experience possessed by his veteran opponent, the wiry borderer had the advantage of youthful suppleness and activity on his side.
A good deal of time was wasted by the combatants; both tenaciously endeavouring to obtain the better hold. Meanwhile a tall, red-haired, gaunt-looking Scotchman, made himself somewhat officious and troublesome to the umpires, by running to and fro into the ring, "wi' a wee drap whuskey, an' a hantle o' advice," in order to cheer up the spirits of the Canonbie lad. When holds had been obtained, after acting on the defensive for some time with much wariness, Scott managed to catch Richardson's heel, and by this means succeeded in carrying him off precisely in the same manner as he had done the preceding year. No sooner had the burly figure of the Caldbeck man kissed the green-sward, than the air resounded again and again with lusty cheers for the Canonbie hero.