JEM BELCHER’S LAST FIGHT
As already said, John Gulley retired from the ring after his second
fight with Bob Gregson, and Tom Cribb, having himself beaten Gregson
a few months later--that is, on October 25th, 1808, was declared
Champion of England. And once again Jem Belcher’s unreasoning ambition
(or insensate jealousy--whichever way you like to put it) caused him
to challenge Tom for the title. This time, though Jem found backing,
as an old favourite somehow always will, his friends frankly dreaded
the issue. In the two years or so that had gone by since their last
encounter, Jem had taken no greater care of himself than previously.
His all too easy, self-indulgent life in conjunction with a naturally
delicate body, had made a poor creature of him. Before his second fight
with Cribb he entered the ring, as you might say, a beaten man.
The place chosen on this occasion was the racecourse at Epsom, the day
was the first of February, 1809. The betting was 7-4 and 2-1 on Cribb,
who had been trained by Captain Barclay, himself a good amateur boxer,
though chiefly known in those days as the man who, for a wager, had
walked a thousand miles in as many hours.
And yet the first round was Jem’s. Tom Cribb, though in much better
condition than formerly, had not yet reached his highest form and was
still ponderous and slow, relying upon his strength, playing a waiting
game. Jem dashed in with all his old eagerness and gusto, and spanked
away at the champion merrily. Tom retreated, and Jem’s wonderful
speed confused and hustled him, so that he could not guard himself
effectually, and Jem would send home sharp, stinging lefts followed by
heavier rights, half a dozen to Cribb’s one. But though he might be
momentarily bothered and confused, the champion was quite content. He
could stand all the punishment that Jem could give him--that he knew
already. He had only to wait. It was worth a few knocks. Jem would beat
himself.
The second round was rather different. Jem still did all the leading
and Tom fought on the retreat, but this time he kept his head and
stopped most of the quick blows that Jem aimed at him. His guard had
greatly improved, he used both his head and his feet with coolness and
sound judgment. It is true that he was somewhat staggered by one very
hard hit that Jem drove home over his guard, but that led the weaker
man to an act of foolishness such as had helped towards his downfall
in their previous fight. Jem dashed in and instead of raining blows
to complete his man’s discomfiture, he closed and wrestled with him
and finally threw him, which, as we have seen, did more to exhaust
the temporary victor than his opponent. Not even the betting by
unintelligent spectators was affected. Indeed Captain Barclay promptly
tried to lay 4-1 on Cribb, but found no takers even at that price.
And yet for many rounds Belcher boxed with great skill, though quite
early in the fight it was noticed that his wind was poor, and in any
sharp rally he had to fight for his breath. Time after time Cribb found
himself able to get close and throw him. But it was Cribb once more who
showed the severer signs of punishment: his face was already swollen
and he bled profusely from several cuts made by Jem’s sharp knuckles.
Again and again Cribb was out-boxed, but what was science against a man
whose mighty strength could ignore blows? Belcher was indeed and once
again beating himself. His wind was gone, his breath came in feverish
gasps, he grew slower and more feeble. In the eighth round he tried
to get away from his man to the side of the ring in order to get his
breath, but Cribb followed him quickly to the ropes, and Jem had to
fight again. True, he hit Cribb several times, but the sting was gone
from him, and presently the champion closed and they both fell.
And now Cribb refused to retreat any more. He stood up and walked into
Jem, planting terrible blows, chiefly upon his body, guarding the
counters, closing and hurling the lighter man upon the ground. He was
confident and happy now. By the eleventh round he knew that he could
not lose. And yet Belcher fought on with that amazing persistence,
that flickering hope against hope, that glorious courage which in like
case to-day, as then, you will often hear called folly. Jem Belcher
was beaten then, but he went on till the thirty-first round with a
gallantry that endures as an example to this day. Once again his
knuckles were driven up and the skin upon them was all torn away. There
is no possible doubt but that if Jem had been his old self Cribb could
not have beaten him. But that is an unprofitable line of argument.
Belcher never entered the ring again. This battle, though it had lasted
only forty minutes, still further reduced his strength. And immediately
afterwards he was sentenced to a month in jail for this “breach of the
peace.” There he caught a severe chill from which he never recovered.
His lungs had always been delicate, and he died eighteen months later
at the age of thirty, one of the greatest athletic heroes this country
has ever known.