THOMAS MOLINEAUX (THE COLOURED COMPETITOR FOR THE
CHAMPIONSHIP)—1810‒1815.
Thomas Molineaux, the hardy, determined and dangerous opponent of Cribb,
under whose memoir we have already given the details of the two
championship contests, next deserves a niche in the temple of fistic
fame. Unnoticed, unheralded, unfriended, and unknown, this sable
gladiator made his way to London. His skill and strength had been tried
in several combats in his native country, Virginia. Confident in his own
capabilities, no sooner did he arrive in the world’s metropolis, than,
proceeding to the best known sporting houses, he offered himself as a
candidate for pugilistic honours. He was not long before he attracted
the notice of the patrons of those gymnastic sports, which, from their
practice and support, instil the principles of endurance and courage
into the hardy sons of England, and have not only given greatness but
added stability to the national character.
Molineaux deserves credit for his bold challenge of the highest prize of
pugilism; his merits were certainly of no mean order, and his defeat
adds to the honours of the conqueror of such a formidable antagonist.
[Illustration:
THOMAS MOLINEAUX.
_From a Drawing by_ GEORGE SHARPLES.
]
Molineaux’s trial set-to was with an anonymous Bristol man, on Tuesday,
July 14th, 1810. The papers inform us, “the newly come American black is
a formidable fellow; in height five feet nine inches, his weight between
thirteen and fourteen stone, his age twenty-six years. He was introduced
under the auspices of his coloured countryman, Bill Richmond, who
seconded him. Tom Cribb, waiting upon the Bristol man, who was a robust
but rather clumsy fellow of six feet in height, weight not stated. The
scene of action was Tothill Fields. The Bristol boxer was strong and
game; but, beyond these qualities he was a poor specimen of the west
country school. The black kept himself close, but seemed to have little
idea of delivering at distance. He merely ‘flipped’ or hit at half-arm,
and when he struck kept his elbows close to his body. His style of
in-fighting, however, was peculiar, and he caught his big antagonist so
heavily and frequently in the body as to knock the wind out of him, and
then began to practise upon his head so dexterously that at the end of
an hour of desperate up-hill fighting the Bristol man was compelled to
give in, scarcely a feature in his face being distinguishable. The two
seconds, Cribb and Richmond, had a quarrel concerning an alleged foul
blow, and had a short sharp turn-up by way of a second course. There was
but one round, but that quite satisfied Richmond, who is too good a
judge to take a thrashing ‘for love,’ which he might soon have had.
Although not the most expert boxer that ever offered himself for
pugilistic fame, Molineaux was considered a promising ‘Chicken,’ and was
immediately matched for 100 guineas with Tom Blake, better known by the
title of Tom Tough, who was at this time forty years of age, and whose
battles are related in the Appendix, _ante_, p. 236.
“Tuesday, August 21, 1810, was the day fixed, and the spot where
Richmond and Maddox last contended agreed upon, on the coast about four
miles from Margate, and two from Reculvers. At an early hour every
vehicle was in motion to gain the goal of sport, and at one o’clock
Blake came in dashing style, seated in an honourable baronet’s barouche,
with his seconds, Tom Cribb and Bill Gibbons. A ring was formed, and at
half past one Molineaux was modestly introduced by his humble, but
perhaps more firm, supporter Richmond. After the usual ceremony the
combatants set-to.”
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—There was considerable curiosity among
the “swell” division to see the new specimen
in ebony, on whose merits Massa Richmond was
so eloquent to all visitors to the Horse and
Dolphin. There was some cautious sparring for
about a minute, in which Molineaux showed he
had taken lessons and improved by them. Soon,
however, Blake[144] seized an opening, put in
two smart hits right and left, and stopped
Molineaux’s return. The men closed and fought at
half-arm. Blake slipped from Molineaux, but
while in the act received a tremendous chopping
blow on the back of his neck, which Molineaux
repeated with his right hand over the head, and
brought him down. (Betting even.)
2.—Blake again made play, but soon found that
two or three hits, although well planted, were
not sufficient to throw Molineaux off his
legs. He received the hits with great _sang
froid_, and at length beat down his opponent’s
guard with his left hand, and with a degree of
quickness and dexterity, which in Dutch Sam or
Tom Belcher would have been considered an
astonishing effort of science, brought Blake
down by a most severe blow with the right.
(Six to four on the Black.)
3.—Blake evinced great distress in his wind.
Molineaux run in to take advantage, but was
received with a chattering jaw hit. They
rallied, and both fell, Molineaux uppermost.
4.—A hard round, and such a one as convinced the
judges that Blake had trained off. Molineaux
rendered his guard perfectly useless, as by
strength of hitting he broke through it, and
although Blake planted many good blows, they had
not an equal effect to those of his opponent, as
his face sufficiently exemplified. The round
lasted two minutes, obstinate ruffianing
fighting, and Blake, after putting in a good
body hit, was knocked down. (Odds rose five to
two in favour of Molineaux.)
5.—Blake bled copiously, but with great courage
rushed to a rally, in which Molineaux got his
left arm round his neck, and holding his head
up, fibbed him so dreadfully that Blake fell
exhausted.
6.—Molineaux now thought it time to beat his
man off hand. He rushed in, chopped down his
opponent’s guard with his left hand, and knocked
him completely off his legs with his right,
by a tremendous hit. (Any odds in favour of
Molineaux.)
7.—Blake in this round rallied determinedly; he
exchanged some good hits dexterously, but was
too weak for this work, and fell.
8.—This was the last round. Molineaux began as
furiously as in the sixth. Blake retreated, but
was forced to rally, to extricate himself from
the iron grasp of his adversary. He put in a
successful hit on Molineaux’s cheek, but it was
returned so forcibly on the head, that it laid
him asleep for some time.
The time having expired, Blake was still
insensible, and accordingly Molineaux was
acknowledged the victor.
REMARKS.—In this battle Molineaux evinced
great improvement in the science of pugilism,
particularly in the art of giving, while
nature seemed to have endowed him abundantly
with the gift of taking, his body being almost
callous to fistic punishment. It was generally
considered that should he be able to combine
an equal degree of skill with his gluttony, he
would mill the whole race of modern pugilists.
Encouraged by his friend and countryman Richmond, and patronised by some
leading amateurs, the aspiring nigger now avowed his aim was no less
than the championship. Molineaux, with the vanity so remarkably
characteristic of his race, never ceased amusing his visitors and
patrons with grotesque illustrations of how he would serve out “Massa
Cribb,” for he possessed, mixed with a considerable amount of ferocity,
the _vis comica_ of the negro race. This could not go on long, and a
match was made for 200 guineas, to come off December 18th, 1810. How
this event was decided at Copthorne, near East Grinstead, Essex, may be
read in the Life of CRIBB, _ante_, p. 254.
Notwithstanding this defeat, Molineaux felt that he was entitled to
another chance, and accordingly sent a challenge three days after the
battle, which letter will be found in its proper place, at p. 255, under
Cribb’s second victory.
About this time Bob Gregson, who was fond of match-making, had at his
hostelrie a young Lancashire man of the name of Rimmer, twenty-two years
of age, and considered by his countrymen a second Jem Belcher. His
friends were anxious to get him on with Molineaux, now defeated, and
issued a challenge for 100 guineas, which was directly answered on the
part of Molineaux. The day was fixed for May 21, 1811, and accordingly
at the well-trodden hurst of Moulsey, at one o’clock on the appointed
day, Rimmer threw his hat into a twenty-five feet roped ring, pitched by
the commissary-general Bill Gibbons, who, moreover, in company with
Richmond, performed the duty of second to Molineaux. The like office to
Rimmer was delegated to Power and Tom Jones. The betting on starting was
three to one on Molineaux.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—A couple of minutes were spent in
sparring, in which neither man displayed much
grace, though both looked formidable. Rimmer
then let go both hands, but was short; he got
away without a return. More sparring; at length
Molineaux put in a left-handed blow on his
adversary’s neck with great force; Rimmer
returned, but slightly, and fell. (Four to one
on Molineaux.)
2.—Rimmer again made play, and another effort
to hit right and left, but the distance was
again ill-judged, and he got away. Molineaux
waited very patiently for him; they rallied, and
Molineaux made some excellent stops. They broke
away and got together again, when Molineaux
brought down his opponent by two hits, right and
left, of most astonishing force and quickness.
(Odds four to one in favour of Molineaux.)
3.—Molineaux appeared much elated with his
success, smiled significantly at his opponent,
and sparred low, evidently to show he
disregarded any effort he might attempt. He
waited until Rimmer made play, when he hit him,
and following him up, repeated his blows until
Rimmer fell, but apparently from no other cause
than to avoid a repetition of the tremendous
hits he had received.
4.—Rimmer’s head was covered with blood, and
he was, in fact, stupefied for a time, in
consequence of a blow on the temple in the last
round. Molineaux again put in two successful
hits right and left, over his guard, on the head
and neck, and Rimmer fell as if shot. Every one
now sympathised with the dreadful situation
of the novice, and odds rose to any amount in
favour of Molineaux, but no takers.
5.—Rimmer evinced great alertness, made a long
hit at double distance, and fell.
6.—Rimmer again hit short, and fell, evidently
very weak.
7.—For the first time Rimmer had the best of
fighting in this round; he put in a good blow
with his left hand, and rallied with great
courage, but fell at length over his opponent’s
legs.
8.—Both hit over, and Rimmer fell.
9.—Rimmer exerted every effort to gain the
superiority, rallied well, and threw Molineaux.
10.—Molineaux appeared almost ferocious, and
went in determined to repay him for past
favours. He followed Rimmer, milling him to
every part of the ring, and at length floored
him.
11.—Rimmer rallied, and showed pluck. Some good
hits exchanged, but Rimmer hit widely, without
judging distance, and gave his head doubled in
his chest, which stopped several blows, and he
at length came down.
12.—Rimmer made a body hit, which again fell
short, and almost in a state of frenzy he ran
in, caught Molineaux up by the thighs, and threw
him in the Lancashire style. Many cried “Foul,”
others “Fair,” but the fight went on.
13.—Rimmer struck Molineaux over the mouth, when
the Black ran in and threw him.
14.—A rally. Rimmer closed, and a complete trial
of strength ensued. Both fell, Rimmer bringing
down his man by Lancashire ingenuity.
15.—Rimmer retreated round the ring, Molineaux
following, and at length by a severe blow in the
wind, brought him down, when he was indisputably
“dead beat.”
At this time the ring was broken; peers,
ploughmen, fighting men, chimney-sweepers,
costermongers, were all in one tumultuous
uproar, which continued for at least twenty
minutes, without any reason being assignable.
At length, however, by the exertions of Cribb
and others, the ring was restored, and the
combatants, who had neither left the ring, were
again set-to. Six more rounds were fought, but
greatly to the discomfiture of Rimmer, who could
hardly stand. During this time he received about
ten more tremendous blows and then gave in.
Rimmer displayed great courage; he has an
unfortunate knack of giving his head when he
hits, and appears to be timid of advancing
towards his adversary, by which errors many
blows fall short.
Such is the contemporary report: the slang version may be found in
“Boxiana,” vol. i., pp. 365, 366. Of the formidable powers of Molineaux
at this time, of which some writers who recorded his later career have
expressed themselves sceptical, this battle and that with Blake must be
convincing proof. No pugilist from this time offered a challenge to
Molineaux, nor could he get a battle on until Tom Cribb, who had
publicly announced his retirement from the ring, was called upon to
“prevent the championship of England from being held by a foreigner,” or
as Pierce Egan oddly calls the American nigger ‘a Moor’. Poor Pierce’s
geography was sadly confused, and the term “the Moor” occurs—perhaps
from some jumbled reminiscences of _Othello_, in his stage readings—in a
hundred places in his work as a favourite epithet for the States’ black
whose ring career we are now tracing. Molineaux had now once again to
enter the lists with the Champion, which he did on the 28th September,
1811, at Thistleton Gap, Leicestershire, where, after a desperate battle
of less than twenty minutes, he fell before the conquering arm of Cribb.
See p. 256, _ante_.
The losers who have, according to the proverb, “leave to grumble,” were
loud, in speech and in the press, upon the depressing influences of
prejudice, jealousy, envy, and “apprehension” lest “a black should win
the championship.” Very natural is all this, and would be so again; but
nothing unfair was ever substantiated. Pierce Egan thus sums up (vol.
i., pp. 367‒370), which we condense in quotation.
“It was this prejudice, a disheartening one to bear up against, that
Molineaux, by never even approaching to unfairness, and by the exercise
of a manly forbearance in critical situations, was called on to remove;
he could not help seeing the applause and cheering were decidedly on the
part of the Champion; in fact, the man of colour experienced from the
bulk of the spectators a very different reception, occasioned by the
extreme anxiety of the friends of Cribb for the safety of his honour and
renown; for his sable opponent was truly formidable. These observations,
nevertheless do not pluck a single leaf from his well-merited laurels;
but impartiality must supersede every other consideration. It would be
absurd to say that Molineaux underwent anything like a regular training;
on the contrary, he indulged himself to excess—without a patron, he had
to range from town to town, to support himself by exhibitions of
sparring, and entering into all the glorious confusion of larks and
sprees that might present themselves; while far different was the
position of the Champion. Placed under the immediate direction of
Captain Barclay, and secluded from the world at the estate of that
gentleman in far Scotland, his condition was in the finest possible
tone, his mind cheerful, and he felt confident that every chance was in
favour of his success. Molineaux, in spite of his undoubted high
courage, laboured under considerable depression; wherever he went he was
unpopular; which circumstance was considerably heightened upon his
public appearance to face his antagonist. His constitution, too, was by
no means so good as in the former contest: but his efforts were
tremendous and terrible, and for the first few rounds of the battle the
flash side trembled for the result.”
Molineaux about this period entered upon a downward course: the _facilis
descensus_ was fully exemplified. He quarrelled with all his best
friends, scorned advice, and declared himself on all occasions,
especially when maddened with liquor, an ill-used man. A street fight
with Power, in which Molineaux had the best for seventeen minutes’
roughing, is recorded in “Boxiana.” However his fame and name were a
passport to money-getting, and he started on a provincial tour, to
gather the silver of gaping rustics, who would pay willingly to see the
man who fought the Champion twice.
Molineaux was also a pretty good wrestler, and displayed great activity
and powers at the Exeter meeting of July 27, 1812, where he entered
himself for the public prize of ten guineas, but received a dreadful
fall from John Snow, of Moreton.
We find the following paragraph in the _Leicester Mercury_, of Feb. 3rd,
1813:
“Jay, the pugilist, has challenged Molineaux to fight at any notice he
may please, but Blackee remains both deaf and dumb to this challenge, as
he did to Cribb’s immediate acceptance of a vaunting challenge to him.
The champion promises him a love-dressing for his bounce, if he could be
prevailed on to come to London.”
To which Molineaux replied,—
LEICESTER, _February 10th, 1813_.
“I, the said Molineaux, do declare that I never received any
challenge, but through the medium of your print; but I am ready to
fight Jay at any place within the county of Leicester, for a sum not
exceeding £200, if accepted within one month of the above date. In
opposition to that part of the paragraph which relates to Cribb, I
do declare that I sent him a challenge within two months, but I have
received no answer; my friends being mentioned in the challenge, who
would back me to any amount; and that I have never received any
challenge from Cribb since I last fought him.
“N.B. Letters left at the Post Office, Leicester, will be duly
attended to.
“The mark of X THOS. MOLINEAUX.”
We will now refer back to the all-important and absorbing event of our
hero’s second contest with Cribb, from which eighteen months elapsed
before Molineaux met with a competitor in Carter, a Lancashire man,
though he repeatedly challenged all England. This match, however, went
off for a time, owing to Richmond, his erewhile patron, “guide,
philosopher, and friend,” issuing a writ against him and taking him to a
sponging house upon a _ca. sa._ This is now a bit of antiquated law for
which our fathers smarted, and for which the young “Templars” may refer
to their “Reader,” while we congratulate _our_ reader that John Roe and
Richard Doe are defunct, and no more “seize the body until the debt is
satisfied.”
Richmond was now at war to the knife with Molineaux, and made a match
for Carter to fight his late protégé for 100 guineas, on Friday, the 2nd
April, 1813, when the men met at Remington, Gloucestershire, six miles
from Banbury, at the junction of four counties. That there was a doubt
about the honesty of this fight, the subjoined extracts from
contemporary papers will show:—“Previous to the battle, the articles
were read over to the combatants, in which it was stated that the winner
was to have a purse of 100 guineas—when Carter stepped up, inquiring
what the ‘loser was to have!!!’ Richmond, who was his second, gnashed
his teeth and shrugged up his shoulders; Bob Gregson, his friend and
patron, tremblingly alive as to the event of the contest, and flattering
himself that Lancashire would prove proudly triumphant on this occasion,
animatedly exclaimed, ‘Jack, never talk of losing, boy—thee must win,
the chance is all in thy favour!’”
As we have already said Richmond seconded Carter, with Cooper as his
junior counsel; Joe Ward and Bill Gibbons held briefs for Molineaux. Six
to four, and in some instances three to one, were betted on the black.
We regret to say that the only report we can discover of this battle is
that by Pierce Egan, which, with some necessary pruning of slang and
corrections of ungrammatical phrases must serve, _faute de mieux_:—
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—It was the opinion of the most
experienced pugilists that such a set-to was
never before witnessed; one “was afraid, and
the other dared not,” and two minutes were
trifled away in this sort of caricaturing, when
Carter touched Molineaux on the mouth, who
genteelly returned it. They closed, and the
man of colour was thrown. It would be absurd
to detail by way of rounds any more of this
worst of fights, though we readily admit that
Carter was the best man after the battle began,
and continued so throughout the fight. Molineaux
was wretched in the extreme, and at one time
bolted from his second, and had it not been
for Colonel and Captain Barclay, he would never
have returned to the scratch, he wished so much
to get away. At another period he was down on
one knee, and with both hands laid fast hold
of the ropes, and being hit in this situation,
he roared out lustily “Foul!” but he was given
to understand that, by the laws of boxing, no
one is considered down “without having both
knees on the ground, with either one or both
hands also.” In the fifteenth round he was so
terrified that, upon being driven to one corner
of the ring, he cried out lamentably, “Oh dear!
oh dear! murder!” a little previous to which,
he declared Carter “had bit him in the neck!”
and soon afterwards he repeated, “there, he
has bit me again!” and it was with great
difficulty Joe Ward could persuade him that it
was the knuckles of Carter, and not his mouth.
This the once brave competitor of the champion!
impossible! Could he have thus degenerated?
Twenty-five rounds occurred, in which coaxing,
persuading, dramming, and threatening, were
resorted to, in order to make the man of colour
perform something like fighting. But to the
great astonishment of all the spectators, when
Molineaux was dead beat, Carter fainted, and
dropped his head as he sat on the knee of his
second. With all the exertions of Richmond,
it seems, he could not arouse Carter from his
lethargic state, and he thus lost the battle in
not coming to time. His fame, it is urged, was
not only tarnished from this circumstance, but
even his integrity called into question. The
above battle created universal dissatisfaction.
Poor Bob Gregson, agitated beyond description
at seeing Lancashire (as he considered) thus
trampled on with disgrace, went up to Carter,
exclaiming, “Jack, Jack, what be’est thee at?
get up and fight, man!” But Bob might as well
have sung psalms to a dead horse. Carter, some
little time afterwards raised his head, feebly
observing, “Stop a bit! stop a bit!” And whether
by accident, design, or with an intent to
conclude this farce in style we are not in the
secret to unfold, but a disciple of Esculapius
stepped up, and in the twinkling of an eye
pulled out his lancet, and bled Carter, to the
great astonishment of his friends and the
spectators in general; thus preventing, even had
any inclination remained on the side of Carter
to have renewed the fight. The latter’s clothes
had hitherto been preserved, during the fight,
in the chariot of a man of distinction, but who,
it is said, was so disgusted with the scene
before him, that he instantly ordered them to be
thrown out with disdain and contempt. In once
more taking a slight view of the man of colour,
whatever certainty there might have been of
Molineaux being a sound man at the core, it is
strongly urged that if his heart had been a good
one, he must have won the first battle with the
champion; however, be that as it may, since
that period he has been dissipated to excess,
completely gone off in constitution, and broken
winded. One improvement appeared to have taken
place: he was more temperate in setting-to, but
he did not like to face his man, and it required
no small ingenuity to get him into the ring.
POETIC RETORT
Between a “Town” and “Country Amateur” at Oxford; or, in the phrase
of the day, Between a “Johnny Raw” and a “Knowing One!”
_On witnessing Carter faint away when he had won the battle, but who
contrived to lose the purse, in his contest with Molineaux._
Says Jack to Bob, “Look, poor Carter’s hipp’d!”
“Hipp’d, be d——d!” cries Bob, “the R——’s tipp’d!”
“No, no,” quoth Jack, “they put in too hard pats:”
“Put in,” echoes Bob, “they’ve put in—the flats!”
With this specimen of “the historian’s” style we dismiss the affair of
Carter and Molineaux. We shall hear more of the so-called “Lancashire
hero,” when we come to the life of TOM SPRING in the next Period.
Molineaux once more started on a tour, extending it this time to
Scotland, where he exhibited sparring in the principal towns. The black,
like most of his race, had a childish propensity for gaiety, and a
strong passion for dress, was amorously inclined, and devoted himself by
turns to Bacchus and Venus. Of course the Black Samson met with many
mercenary Dalilahs, and—
“Plung’d
In general riot, melted down his youth
In different beds of lust, and never learn’d
The icy precepts of respect, but follow’d
The sugar’d game before him.”
With dress of the best quality and fashion, the man of colour soon
appeared a swell of the first magnitude. Maintaining, then, the highest
secondary rank as a boxer, he dashed about regardless of future
consequences to his milling fame. Pleasure was the order of the day with
him, and the stews tended not only to ease him of his cash, but soon
undermined that overwhelming power and pluck so conspicuously displayed
in his terrible combats with the mighty Cribb. The consequences of such
a line of conduct need be scarcely dwelt on; the iron frame of the black
soon seriously felt the dilapidating effects of intemperance. Yet,
notwithstanding this visible falling off, Molineaux with all the
drawbacks of enervating excess, was not to be beaten off hand, and none
but a boxer of more than common skill and strength seemed likely to
accomplish this task.
Fuller, a clever and well-informed man, who had beaten Bill Jay, and
whose character for science and game entitled him to every
consideration, fancied he was able to contend with this renowned milling
hero, and the amateurs of Scotland, in order to facilitate a match
between them, entered into a subscription purse of 100 guineas, to be
fought in a forty feet ring. Early in the morning, on the day appointed
for the above trial of skill to be decided, Friday, the 27th May, 1814,
at Bishopstorff, Paisley, Ayrshire, the fancy were in motion. Numerous
vehicles of all descriptions were seen rattling along the road to the
scene of action, and scampering pedestrians out of number, to witness
the novelty of a prize-mill in Scotland. Some thousands of spectators
formed the ring, and upwards of one hundred carriages belonging to
gentlemen were upon the ground. Molineaux was seconded by Carter, and
Fuller had the veteran Joe Ward and George Cooper. Five to four on the
black. At one o’clock the ceremony of shaking hands was performed, and
the men set-to. Both the combatants displayed good science, but the
blows of Fuller, although he put in several with much dexterity,
appeared more showy than effective. However, on Fuller’s planting a
desperate ribber, Joe Ward ironically observed, that “if he continued to
hit his man so hard, they should all be baulked, and the fight be over
too soon.” The battle had continued only eight minutes, when the sheriff
of Renfrewshire, attended by constables, entered the ring, and put a
stop to it in the fourth round. Both the combatants appeared much
chagrined, particularly Molineaux, who vauntingly declared, “had he
foreseen such an interruption, he would have finished off his opponent
before the arrival of the sheriff.” The man of colour, it seems, was so
confident of victory, that previous to the fight, he betted five to two
he drew first blood—this bet he won; and also two to one he floored
Fuller first—the latter was not decided. Fuller expressed himself ready
to settle the matter the next day, but Molineaux insisted the fight
should not take place till the following Tuesday.
The above arrangement was agreed to, and on Tuesday, May 31, they again
met at Auchineux, twelve miles from Glasgow. Fuller was attended by Ward
and Cooper, Molineaux by an Irish sergeant, of the name of Hailward,
assisted by a private. The umpires were Captain Cadogan and Mr. George
Stirling, and in case of any dispute, Mr. Graham, of Guntmaux, as the
referee. This battle is without parallel. There is nothing like it in
the annals of pugilism. It is thus described by the veteran Joe Ward,
from whom the account given in “Boxiana” was gathered, and which we here
reprint:—
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—Fuller displayed some good positions,
and convinced the spectators that he was a
scientific boxer. His guard was firm and
imposing, and he seemed confident of success.
They sparred a considerable time, with good
skill, before any punishment was exhibited;
at length Fuller, by a tremendous hit, drew
the cork of his antagonist. Molineaux, upon
the claret making its appearance, became rather
impetuous, and attacked Fuller fiercely; but
the latter stopped with much adroitness, and
gave some heavy nobbing returns. A desperate
rally now took place, during which severe
milling was dealt out on both sides; the men
broke away, and again resorted to sparring.
Fuller’s nose was much peppered, and the crimson
flowed abundantly. In short, this unprecedented
round was filled with rallies, recoveries,
retreating, following each other alternately
round the ring, stopping and hitting with
various success, and both exhausted by turns,
till at length Molineaux was levelled by a
tremendous blow, and the round finished after a
lapse of twenty-eight minutes.
2.—To describe anything like the various changes
which occurred during this set-to would fill the
space of an ordinary report of a whole fight.
Suffice it to observe, that almost every “dodge”
of the milling art was resorted to, from
beginning to end. The skill, practice, and
experience of both the combatants were made use
of to the best advantage. Fuller proved himself
a boxer of more than ordinary science and game.
Molineaux was convinced he had got a troublesome
customer to deal with, who required serving out
in a masterly style before he could be
satisfied. In fact, the strength of the man of
colour seemed materially deteriorated as
compared with his former exhibitions, when he
used to hit his men away from him, and levelled
his opponent with the most perfect _sang froid_.
The severe blows of Fuller, who stuck close to
Molineaux, made him wince again. The Black
appeared much exhausted from the great portion
required to give, and heartily tired of what he
had to take. The claret was liberally tapped on
both sides, and as regarded Fuller, stauncher
game was never displayed by any pugilist
whatever. Upon the whole, it was a truly
singular fight, and the people of Scotland
witnessed the most unique specimen of English
prize-fighting. In sixty-eight minutes two
rounds only had taken place.
The contest terminated in rather a singular
manner. Molineaux asserted that “Joe Ward had
behaved foul, in pulling Fuller down, when he
was much distressed, and had been beaten all
over the ring in a rally; and that this
prevented him from putting in a decisive blow.”
The umpires decided it was so, and the purse was
accordingly awarded to Molineaux. The latter did
not appear anything like the once tremendous
competitor of Cribb; on the contrary, instead of
going boldly up to his man, he was always shy,
and tried to win by tiring out his man.
Molineaux fought at the head, Fuller at the
body. Notwithstanding the supposed falling off
of the man of colour, it was considered great
temerity on the part of Fuller to enter the
lists with Molineaux. The conduct of Fuller in
this fight gave such general satisfaction, that
a purse of 50 guineas, which had been subscribed
for at the match between Cooper and Carter, in
consequence of that battle not taking place, was
presented to Fuller.
Molineaux now attracted great attention in Scotland, and a match was at
length made between him and George Cooper, a boxer of superior talent.
On the 11th of March, 1815, these first-rate heroes of the fist met at
Corset Hill, in Lanarkshire. In twenty minutes Molineaux was defeated.
(See life of GEORGE COOPER, _post_, Chapter IV).
Intemperance was the ruin of Molineaux; and, it would seem, that within
a brief period his fame had become so tarnished, that every strong
commoner entertained an idea that he could serve out the once formidable
man of colour, as the following anecdote will evince. During Molineaux’s
provincial tour of 1813, he visited Derby, to give the natives an
exhibition of his milling accomplishments. The competitor of Cribb was
well attended, and several Johnny Raws had the temerity to have a taste
with the Black; but these, possessing little more than strength and
courage, soon found themselves inadequate to contend against the science
of Molineaux, and therefore wisely laid down the gloves. Not so a
country pugilist of the name of Abraham Denston, possessing Herculean
strength, and the stature of a giant, added to which his fame was well
abroad in these parts for milling, in which none dared to oppose him.
Abraham had rather “crept into favour with himself,” and entertained an
idea that, with the mufflers, he should be able to serve out the nigger
in style, and increase his renown as a miller. Great things were
expected from the countryman; and considerable interest was excited
among the spectators on their setting-to. But, unfortunately for
Abraham, he had calculated somewhat too hastily upon his great size and
strength, and two rallies with the Black were quite enough to convince
him of his error. Molineaux punished the chaw-bacon most severely for
his self-conceit, and, with one of his favourite left-handed lunges,
gave him such a remembrancer under his left eye, that the claret flew in
all directions, and the big ’un found his way to the ground, saluting it
roughly with his seat of honour. The conceit of Abraham now evaporated,
and he hastily retired amidst the laughter of the audience.
From Scotland, Molineaux went on a sparring tour into Ireland; and at
the latter end of the year 1817, he was travelling over the northern
parts of that country, teaching the stick fighting natives the use of
their fists; an accomplishment which might save many a jury the trouble
of a trial ending in a verdict of manslaughter or even of murder. But
the sun of his prosperity was set; and according to an obituary sketch
(given in the _Sporting Magazine_, vol. ii., p. 230, 1818), he was
dependent for bare existence on the humanity of two coloured
compatriots, serving in the 77th regiment then quartered at Galway. He
expired in the band-room of that regiment, on the 4th of August, 1818, a
wasted skeleton, the mere shadow of his former self. For the last four
years he strolled about the country. Intemperance, and its sure follower
disease, brought down the once formidable gladiator to a mere anatomy,
and he latterly declined to fight the oft-defeated and gone-by Dan
Dogherty. Molineaux was illiterate and ostentatious, but good-tempered,
liberal, and generous to a fault. Fond of gay life, fine clothes, and
amorous to the extreme, he deluded himself with the idea that his
strength of constitution was proof against excesses. Alas! poor
Molineaux found out the vanity of his conceited boast, and repented, but
too late, his folly. Peace be to his manes! he was a brave but reckless
and inconsiderate man, on whose integrity and straightforwardness none
who knew him ever cast a slur; nevertheless he was the worst of fools,
inasmuch as he sacrificed fame, fortune, and life; excusing himself by
the absurd plea, that “he was a fool to no one but himself.”
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