JOSH. HUDSON, “THE JOHN BULL FIGHTER.”—1816–1826.
Among the names which a pugilistic Plutarch might find difficult to
parallel for lion-hearted, fearless, and indomitable pluck, that of
Josh. Hudson may be fairly cited. “The John Bull Fighter,” as his
friends and admirers at the East-end fondly called him, fought his way
into the battle of life at Rotherhithe, on the 21st of April, 1797.
Although fond of a mill from his youth upwards, the juvenile John Bull
earned the character of a thorough good-natured fellow, and this he
preserved through life. There was no ferocity in Josh.’s composition,
though once aroused in the fight his hitting was truly terrific, and his
gameness in receiving as remarkable as his readiness in refusing to take
an advantage of his adversary. Josh, was by no means an uninformed man,
and, barring a propensity for practical jokes—a common thing in his
day—remarkably inoffensive.
Josh.’s first reported contest was with Jack Payne, the butcher, at
Dartford Brim, October 22, 1816, for ten guineas a-side. Jack, when he
pleased, could fight well, but he was thought, not without reason, to
lose pluck whenever he had not the “lead” in his hands. He soon found he
had “caught a Tartar” in young Josh., for in thirty-five minutes he
cried “enough!”
Our hero now flew at higher game, and challenged Aby Belasco. After a
determined battle of one hour and thirty minutes the affair ended in a
wrangle; Clark and Peter Warren, who seconded Josh., taking their man
away. Belasco, however, got the stakes.
Hudson’s next battle was with Street, April 5, 1817, which he won in one
hour and ten minutes. In “Boxiana,” vol. ii., p. 477, “Street” is called
“Connelly.” It was David, Josh.’s brother, who fought and beat Connelly.
Tom Oliver and Clark seconded Josh. in this battle.
His next match was with Charles Martin, at Sawbridgeworth, for a stake
of twenty guineas, June 10, 1817. Richmond and Harry Holt seconded
Josh., who won cleverly in thirty minutes.
Thompson, an Essex coachman, and rather fast with his fists, fancied
Josh. for a “tenner,” and challenged him within six weeks of the
last-named battle. They fought at Woolwich, July 17, 1817, when, in
twenty-five minutes, Thompson dropped his whip and declined any further
proceedings.
Josh, having in a spree “milled the wrong person,” was bound over by the
magistrates to keep the peace for twelve months. He determined to keep
out of the way of mischief for that period, so engaged himself as
butcher on board the Surat Castle, Indiaman. Pierce Egan embellishes
this voyage with fights with nobodies, to fill up the story of Josh.’s
sea life. On his return, Hudson accepted the challenge of a formidable
Chatham caulker, of the name of Bowen. This rough and ready customer
stood six feet two inches in his stockings, and weighed thirteen stone
and a half without an ounce of superfluous flesh; while Josh, drew ten
stone seven pounds at scale. The battle was truly desperate; but in
seventeen minutes Josh. was knocked out of time. This occurred on March
25, 1819.
Josh. lost no time in emerging from the cold shade of defeat, and on
Tuesday, April 17, 1819, a month after the last event, he entered the
ropes with Williams, the waterman, for ten guineas a-side, in Essex,
opposite to Woolwich Warren. There were 5,000 persons present, say the
reports at the time. Hudson was the favourite at five to four. At
thirteen minutes past one Tom Owen and Donnelly conducted Josh. into the
ring, followed by Williams, who was seconded by Tom Oliver and Harry
Holt. The first three rounds were full of manœuvring, and decidedly in
favour of the waterman; but when Josh. came to force the fighting, the
scene was quickly changed. The waterman, however, proved a truly game
man: he was terribly punished before the sponge was thrown up; and
Josh., too, had napped it heavily. It was on both sides a manly fight,
and Josh. was prophesied by Tom Owen—who dubbed him “his boy”—as likely
to take a top place among the boxers of England.
[Illustration:
JOSHUA HUDSON.
_From a Miniature by_ T. COOPER.
]
On the 24th of August, 1819, at the renowned battle-field of Moulsey,
after Cy. Davis had beaten Boshell, a purse of 25 guineas was made up on
the ground, and Jack Scroggins (JOHN PALMER, see his life in vol. i.)
agreed to fight Josh. Hudson for the amount. Tom Owen and Sutton
esquired Hudson, Harry Harmer and Tom Shelton picked up “Scroggy.”
Scroggins hesitated, saying, he had been drinking overnight, and was in
bad condition: but, added the daring little sailor, “Here goes—I’ll have
a shy for it.” The fight requires but little description; Scroggins
rushed headlong at his opponent, scrambling for a hit, and often losing
his balance. Josh., on the contrary, was steady, and nobbed the once
formidable hero with stupefying effect. When Scroggins fell at the close
of round one, two to one was offered on Josh., and soon after three to
one was without takers. At the end of the sixth round Tom Owen
exclaimed, “It’s your own, Josh., my boy; you don’t want any seconding.
Meet him as he comes in—one more like that, and the ‘pence’ you shall
have.” In the eleventh and last round Scroggins over-reached himself,
and came down on his knees, when Josh. caught him a stinger on the side
of the head. “Foul, foul!” “Fair, fair!” echoed from all sides of the
ring, for the rough and ready “merry-andrew of the ring” had many
friends. The umpires decided the blow to be unintentional, and ordered
them to “go on.” Scroggins refused, declaring he “was not used fair.”
The purse was then awarded to Hudson. Scroggins, during the first few
rounds was as full of antics as a clown in a pantomime, but soon became
convinced that he was getting the worst of it, and broke off with an
attempt to “snatch a verdict.” About this period Phil. Sampson, the
Birmingham Youth, who had, as will be seen by his biography, a talent
for quarrelling with his friends, fell out, Phil., _more suo_, talking
about “serving out” Josh. at the first opportunity. Hence, after Ned
Turner and Martin had left the ring (see Life of TURNER, vol. i.), on
the 26th of October, 1819, at Wallingham Common, Surrey, ten guineas
a-side having been posted, and a ten guinea purse subscribed by the P.
C., Sampson intimated his readiness to meet Josh., and the John Bull
Fighter stepped into the ring with alacrity. Tom Owen and Purcell waited
upon Hudson; Shelton and Harmer seconded the Birmingham Youth. On
stripping, Owen said to Josh., “Now, my boy, remember the _multum in
parvo_.” “Is that a new hit?” asked Josh. laughing. “No, my boy,”
replied Tom; “it’s Latin for doing a lot of work in a little time.” “I’m
awake,” replied Josh.; “he won’t catch me napping.” The men stood up,
and the seconds having retired to their corners, they began—
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—Scarcely had the combatants shaken hands than it appeared
that they had no intention to protract hostilities. Sampson dashed
in at Josh. and planted a tremendous teazer flush in his ivories.
Josh. returned, and some rattling exchanges followed, Sampson
literally nobbing Hudson till he reeled staggering away; but he
returned to the attack like a bull-dog, and went on weaving away
till he was hit down. (Tumultuous applause for Sampson, and the two
to one offered on Hudson no longer heard. “I’ll bet six to four, and
have Sampson,” cried a Corinthian amateur.)
2.—Sampson again led off, and nobbed Josh. three times on the head.
Josh. returned, and caught Phil. heavily on the ribs and side of the
head. The men got into a ding-dong rally, right and left, in which
unshrinking courage was displayed on both sides. The round closed by
both being down side by side covered with claret.
Twenty-five rounds ensued, occupying forty minutes, all of which
were distinguished for tremendous fighting. Hudson received three or
four flooring hits. In one instance, in the struggle, he fell with
his knee on the private parts of Sampson, when the latter observed,
“Is that the way you mean to win it, Josh.?” “I couldn’t help it—it
was accident,” replied Hudson. “Well, I believe it was,” said
Sampson. This small trait of feeling during the rage of battle is a
fine proof of the generous courage of Englishmen. Such a good fight
has not often been witnessed. At length victory was declared in
favour of Hudson. It was a nice thing, and dearly bought, for Josh.
fainted on his second’s knee after he was proclaimed the conqueror.
Hudson, from the game and milling talents he had displayed, was next
matched against Jack Martin, for 50 guineas a-side, which took place at
Colnbrook, on Tuesday, December 14, 1819, when, in the second round,
Hudson’s shoulder was dislocated, and of course he lost the battle. (See
the Life of MARTIN in vol. i.)
In the course of the evening after the battle, Hudson, in company with a
friend, called at the house of Abrams (Little Puss), near the Royalty
Theatre, to take a glass of liquor. One Guyly, a big costermonger, took
up some money which was upon the tap-room table, belonging to Hudson,
and refused to return it. The courage of Josh. made him forget the
crippled state of his shoulder for the instant, and he let fly so
severely upon the nob of Guyly that the saucy costermonger quickly gave
back the cash. Owing to this circumstance a report got into circulation
that it was untrue that Hudson’s shoulder had ever been put out by
Martin.
An off-hand match was made for Hudson against Rasher, a determined
Welshman, a butcher belonging to Whitechapel Market. The latter boxer
had the weight of Josh.; nevertheless, he fought Rasher ten guineas to
eight. This contest took place at Plaistow, in Essex, on Tuesday,
January 11, 1820. Hudson was seconded by Owen and his brother David;
Rasher by Mendoza and Cy. Davis. It occupied twenty-nine minutes and a
half, and fifteen rounds. After the first round, which was tremendously
contested, Hudson had it all his own way. The science displayed by Josh.
was much admired, and he made many clever feints with his left hand, to
get the right well into play. Rasher was covered with claret, and his
gameness astonished every one present, but he was too slow in his
movements. He was floored in the last round; and on coming to himself
wanted to renew the fight.
Hudson, still continuing to rise in the estimation of his friends, was
backed against Benniworth, the Essex champion, the hero of the country
for several miles round, for 50 guineas a-side. Benniworth was six feet
in height, weighing thirteen stone twelve pounds; nevertheless, Hudson
was the favourite. This contest took place on Tuesday, April 4, 1820, on
a common near Billericay, in Essex. Hudson was seconded by Owen and
Purcell; Benniworth was attended by his brother and another yokel.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—About a minute elapsed in sparring, Benniworth making
numerous awkward feints, and dancing about, sometimes standing with
his right leg first, then changing it for the left. He made three or
four hits, but they proved short. At length Benniworth made a slight
blow with his right hand on Hudson’s body. Josh. seeing what sort of
a customer he had before him, made play, and let fly right and left
in the middle of Benniworth’s nob, both of which told, and the
claret flowed copiously. Benniworth’s left eye was much damaged. He
rushed in to his opponent, when, in getting away, Hudson’s heel hung
in the grass, and Benniworth made a slight half round hit on the
neck with his left hand, flooring him. (Great rejoicings from the
yokels.)
2.—Hudson, with much dexterity, in a sort of half-arm rally, placed
three straight hits on Benniworth’s nob. Josh. also drew backwards,
and avoided all Benniworth’s half round blows. Hudson now made
himself well up, and planted a most tremendous right-handed blow on
the nose of his opponent that floored him like a shot. (Any odds,
but no takers, and the Johnny Raws all blue.)
Further description would be useless. Hudson had it thenceforth all
his own way. He laughed at Benniworth, and nobbed him at pleasure.
The Essex champion lost his temper, rushed in, and followed Hudson
all over the ring, with his head leaning forward and both his hands
open. Hudson kept retreating, and jobbing his adversary on the head
with his left hand. Benniworth was a complete receiver-general;
nevertheless, he succeeded in driving Hudson to the ropes; but here
he had the worst of it, a guinea to a shilling. Josh. nobbed him
terribly away; and in following him, floored him with a terrific
right-handed hit on his nose. Benniworth, when “time” was called,
was in such a state of stupor that he could not leave the knee of
his second, whereon Hudson was declared the conqueror.
Thus was the vaunted rustic champion disposed of in the short space
of seven minutes. As a scientific pugilist, Benniworth did not
appear to possess a single point: he had no idea of fighting. From
the moment he entered the ring Hudson kept laughing at him, and beat
him without a scratch upon his face. It certainly was a laughable,
but not an interesting contest; and it was matter of astonishment
how such a boxer could have obtained so terrific a character. Upon
the Essex champion coming to himself, he exclaimed, with great
surprise, “Be I licked?” “You are, indeed,” replied Josh., laughing;
“but you may have a round or two for fun, if you like it, Benny.”
“Noa, noa,” said the champion; “as I’ve lost the stakes, there be no
fun in that loike.” Benniworth, it seems, had made so sure of
conquest, that he invited his mother and sister to be near at hand.
The yokels had also booked it, and provided themselves with blue
ribbons to decorate their hats the instant victory was declared in
Benniworth’s favour.
Josh. was suddenly called into action with Spring at Moulsey Hurst, on
Tuesday, June 27, 1820, for a purse of £20; and, notwithstanding the
disparity of size, weight, and science between the combatants, Hudson
showed himself a good man. (See the Memoir of SPRING, vol. ii.)
Hudson, during the time he was at Norwich, had a battle with Abraham
Belasco in the long room at Gurney’s Bowling Green, July 19, 1820. In
this contest, which might be termed for honour, Josh.’s shoulder went in
and out three times.
Moulsey Hurst, on Tuesday, December 5, 1820, was again the favourite
“bit of turf” for a genteel mill between a swell of the name of Williams
and Josh. Hudson. Williams was unknown to the mass of sporting men; but
those persons who knew him pretended to be acquainted with his prime
fighting qualities, and chaffed all the old ring-goers out of conceit of
their own judgment, and Williams was the favourite, six and five to
four. This sort of “whisper” importance was also kept up at friendly Bob
Lawrence’s, the Red Lion, at Hampton, where the fancy met to take a bit
of a snack before they crossed the water, and make their “books”
complete. Richmond, downy as a hammer, spoke in raptures of the swell’s
superior science with the gloves. Bill Eales, who had stood before
Williams many times, nay, who had given him instructions several years
back, pronounced him “a downright slaughterer.” The Master of the Rolls
was quite infatuated with this pink of the gloves. Martin had tried him
again and again, and not having found Williams “wanting,” was this day
£50 the worse for his opinion. Tom Shelton was also led away by the
stream, and Spring was taken in upon the same suit. Oliver, too, was out
of his know, and out of pocket in consequence. Cocker had nothing to do
with the fight in question; indeed, who could make any calculation about
an unknown man? Randall and Belcher, somehow or other, were persuaded
into the good milling qualities of their hero; in short, there was a
sort of fashion attached to the betting. The “Swell” was supported and
brought forward by the swells. Judgment was shoved, as it were, into the
background, or else a novice in the ring would never have been backed,
at high odds, against a well-known high-couraged man, one who had often
been put to the test, and admitted to be a boxer of talent. But then the
shoulder of Hudson was ricketty; no dependence could be placed upon it.
Things went on in this manner till about a few minutes before one
o’clock, when Williams appeared and threw his hat into the ring,
followed by Belcher and Randall as his seconds. The look of Williams was
swellish in the extreme. He bowed in the most graceful manner, and there
was a superior air about him. He paced the ring up and down for about
eight minutes, when Josh., with his white topper, a fancy upper
Benjamin, and a blue bird’s eye round his neck, came brushing along and
threw his castor into the ring. He immediately went up to Williams and
shook hands with him in the true open-hearted English style. To witness
the manly act, this characteristic trait of Britons, is worth more in
its influence upon society than the perusal of a thousand canting essays
tending to fritter down the courage of Englishmen. Williams observed to
Hudson, that he hoped there was no animosity between them. “Not in the
least,” said he; “we are going to fight for a prize, and to see which is
the best man.” Tom Owen and Ned Turner were the seconds for Josh. The
latter tied his colours (yellow) to the stakes, and Randall covered them
with the blue of Williams. Owen, who had never seen “the Swell” till he
entered the ring with “his boy” Josh., observed to the latter, “Why, my
chaff-cutter, if you don’t go and lick this Bond Street blade in a
jiffy, the white topper shall never more be placed on your nob. My dear
boy, the East against the West End for milling.”
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—On stripping, Williams displayed a fine muscular frame, and
good legs; but his face was pale, and his countenance showed him to
be between forty and fifty years of age. Josh. was in high trim, and
seemed confident of winning. Some time elapsed after the combatants
had placed themselves in attitude before Williams let fly; but
Hudson got away. Counter hits followed, when Josh.’s right eye
showed blood, and the nose of the swell looked a little red.
Williams made a right-handed hit, which Hudson stopped prettily, and
then went to work. The exchanges were sharp and hard, but the
wisty-castors of Josh. were so tremendous that he spoilt the
gentility of the Swell, and positively milled him down. (Great
applause from the plebeians; and Tom Owen smilingly said to Josh.,
“I told you so, my boy: that’s the way to clear Regent Street in a
brace of shakes.” Seven to four.)
2.—Josh.’s eye was bleeding when he came up to the scratch. The
Swell looked rather puzzled; but he touched Hudson’s other peeper so
severely that his nob was chanceried for an instant. Hudson made a
plunge with his right hand upon his opponent’s face that produced
the claret, followed him up to the ropes, and punished him down.
(Three to one, and “It’s poundable,” was the cry. Here Owen told
Josh. he had “done the trick, and lots of Daffy were in store for
him.”)
3.—The confident appearance of Williams had left him; he had paid a
visit, as Tom said, to “Pepper Alley.” Williams showed game, but he
had no chance to win. He, however, made some sharp hits; but the
pepper-box was again administered, and Williams went down
distressed. (Ten to one.)
4.—This round was the quietus; the Swell was hit out of the ring. It
was Cayenne at every dose. Williams was completely done up, and his
seconds dragged him up all but gone.
5.—Williams was brought up to the scratch in a most distressed
state. He, however, showed fight, and with his right hand put in a
heavy body blow: it was his last effort. Josh. now went in right and
left, and punished the Swell so terribly that he staggered and fell
against the ropes; but, on recovering himself a little, Tom Owen
said to Josh., “Don’t give a chance away; a finisher only is
wanting.” The finisher was applied, and Williams was down all
abroad. The swells looked blue, and Josh. received thunders of
applause. (“Take him away!” was the general cry.) Josh. in this
round did not like to hit the Swell when he had got him at the
ropes, feeling like the British sailor, so finely described by
Dibdin—
“In me let the foe feel the paw of a lion;
But the battle once ended, the heart of a lamb!”
6.—Williams came to the scratch in a deplorable state, and Hudson
pushed him down _sans cérémonie_. When time was called he could not
leave his second’s knee.
REMARKS.—Thus, in the short space of nine minutes, Josh. defeated
this much-vaunted opponent. After remaining a short time in a state
of stupor, Williams came to his recollection, and asked if it was
over. The flash side were completely floored in consequence,
according to themselves, of their calculating upon Josh.’s shoulder
giving way. The Swell showed great steadiness in the first round,
which occupied upwards of three minutes; but afterwards had no
chance, and found out the great difference between sparring and
fighting. Instead of losing so much time in sparring in the first
round, as he was clearly a stale man, he ought to have gone to work.
He could hit hard, and most certainly did not want for knowledge of
the science. But he was too old to take; his mind might be firm
enough to endure punishment, but his frame could not stand it. At
all events, he should have commenced pugilism (if he wished to
obtain a high place in the prize ring) some seventeen or eighteen
years earlier. Drummers and boxers, to acquire excellence, must
begin young. There is a peculiar nimbleness of the wrist and pliancy
of the shoulder required, that is only obtained by early practice.
Youth and strength, however, are indispensable ingredients in a
pugilist. The backers of Williams, _i.e._, those amateurs who made
the match for him, had no right to complain of his conduct. There
was nothing of the cur about him; on the contrary, he fought like a
game man: he never said “No,” and he tried to win the battle till he
lost sight both of his opponent and friends.
Josh.’s combat with Ned Turner, when _Bacchi plenus_, and which ended in
a defeat, will be found noticed in the life of that boxer, _ante_, vol.
i.
A second match with his former antagonist, Phil. Sampson, was the next
public appearance of Josh. This took place on Saturday, March 3, 1821,
at Banstead Downs, Surrey. The torrents of rain did not deter hundreds
from leaving the metropolis, and several aristocrats of the highest
class were upon the ground.
At one o’clock the Birmingham Youth, followed by Spring and Randall,
threw up his hat in the ring; and in a few minutes after, Hudson,
attended by Oliver and Purcell, repeated the token of defiance. Spring
and Oliver went up smiling together, and tied the colours of the
combatants to the stakes.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—On stripping, Hudson looked extremely well, but rather too
fat. Sampson was in excellent condition: both gay, confident, and
eager. They had tasted plentifully of each other’s quality in their
former fight, and much difference of opinion existed among the
spectators who had really won it. A short pause occurred, when
Hudson made an offer to hit, and Sampson drew back. Another pause.
Sampson endeavoured to put in right and left, which proved short, in
consequence of Josh.’s getting away. After looking at each other for
about a minute, Hudson went in; some sharp work took place, and in
the struggle, Sampson was undermost. (Loud shouting, and “Josh., you
have begun well.”)
2.—The nose of the Birmingham Youth appeared rosy. Both now began to
slash away, and the pepper-box was handed from one to the other,
till Josh, either went down from a hit, or slipped on his knees.
(“Go along, Sampson.”)
3.—Hudson missed a tremendous hit at Sampson’s head. The latter drew
the claret from Josh.’s mug by a facer; but Josh. rushed in and
exchanged hits to his own advantage, and sent his opponent down.
(The shouting was now like thunder—the old fanciers dancing
hornpipes, the East-enders all in spirits, and the Bermondsey boys
offering odds on their favourite, Hudson, six to four.)
4.—The Birmingham Youth took great liberties with the upper works of
his opponent. The round was terrific. Both went down, Sampson
undermost.
5.—“It’s a good fight,” was the cry all round the ring. Sampson was
more than busy, and the face of Hudson was clareted. The latter,
bull-dog like, did not care about receiving, so that he could go in
and punish his opponent. He did so most effectively in this round,
and Sampson was hit down. It is impossible to describe the joy of
Hudson’s friends. (Seven to four.)
6 to 9.—These were all busy rounds, and the partisans of each of the
combatants claimed the best.
10.—Sampson meant nothing but mischief, and at out-fighting placed
his hits, in most with tremendous effect. In this round he went down
from the force of his own blow.
11 and 12.—The Birmingham Youth always good for punishment in
commencing the round; but Josh. finishing them all to his own
advantage.
13.—Sampson in this round was, from the heavy blows he received,
almost at a stand-still, till both down.
14.—This was a terrible round on both sides. Hudson’s mug was
terrific. The men hit each other away staggering, then returned to
the charge game as pebbles, till Sampson scarcely knew how he went
down. (“Go along, my Joshy; it’s as safe as the Bank.”)
15.—Sampson was floored from a heavy blow under the listener. (The
Hudsonites were uproarious, and offering any odds.)
16.—Sampson came up like a true Briton, and, after several severe
exchanges, was again sent down.
17.—Hudson either could not, or did not attempt to, protect his
head, and Sampson hit him down. (“Bravo, Sampson! do so again, and
you can’t lose it,” from his friends; “you behave like a good one.”)
18.—If Josh. had not been an out-and-out bottom man, from the
repeated tremendous facers he received, he must have been beaten
before this period; but the more he received the more courage he
appeared to have, and after another desperate round, Sampson was
sent down.
19.—It was Pepper Alley on both sides, and neither appeared anxious
to stop. Josh., as usual, napt it in the first part of the round,
but finished it in prime style, and hit the Birmingham Youth down.
(Here some hissing occurred, as it was said by a few that Hudson
touched the head of his opponent improperly as he laid on the
ground; but it was evident that Hudson was moving out of the way to
avoid it. “He’s too high-couraged to behave unhandsomely to a brave
opponent,” was the general expression.)
20.—Sampson, after a few exchanges, was again hit down. (Two to
one.)
21.—It was evident that Sampson was getting weak; his knees began to
tremble, but his courage and anxiety to win were strong. He strained
every nerve to turn the fight in his favour, and, although he did
not succeed in this respect, he was still a dangerous customer. All
fighting till Sampson was down. (Three to one, and the Hudsonites
quite up in the stirrups.)
22.—Sampson took the lead. The face of Hudson was pinked all over,
and his head went back twice. Sampson’s mug was also painted. The
latter could not keep Hudson out; he would always be with his man
till he had the best of him. Sampson down.
23 to 25.—All milling; but, in the last round, Sampson was exhausted
and dropped.
26.—Sampson came up distressed, and was soon sent down. (“It’s all
u-p up,” says an over-the-water lad. The Hudsonites all in good
humour.)
27.—No chance remained to win; but Sampson would not allow his
seconds to say “No.” He came unsteadily to the scratch, but it was
only to be sent down. (“Take him away.”)
28.—Sampson, it is true, reached the scratch; and although Hudson
was in a bad state, from the punishment he had undergone, yet he
still remained fresh enough to finish the exhausted Sampson, who
went down without knowing where he was. The shouts of victory gave
Hudson new life; he jumped up, put on his own coat, and was
immediately taken to a carriage.
REMARKS.—All that a boxer could do towards victory Sampson
attempted; but he had not strength enough to dispose of Hudson, who
would not be denied. Sampson by no means disgraced his character in
defeat. He was led out of the ring in a very distressed state. The
fight was over in thirty-two minutes. Hudson received by far most
punishment about the head; and, although quite abroad once or twice,
his game was so out-and-out that he returned to fight with his
opponent at each repulse as though nothing could daunt him.
A slight skirmish took place between Josh. and Jack Ford, the pugilist,
on Thursday evening, March 29, 1821, at the east end of the town, over a
pot of heavy. Ford offered to fight David Hudson, when Josh. said it was
cowardly to challenge “a blind one.” Ford immediately gave Josh. a
snorter, which produced the claret. Josh. could not return the favour
till he had put the pot and glass out of his hand, when the John Bull
boxer caught hold of Ford, and put in such a shower on his nob that he
roared out for help, and begged of the company to take Josh. away from
him, if they did not wish to see him (Ford) murdered! Josh. offered to
accommodate Ford any time in a public ring, if he liked it, but observed
that he must take no more liberties in future with his head, or he
should answer before “the beak” for such conduct.[44]
In June, 1821, Josh., by way of keeping the game alive, offered to fight
Tom Oliver for £100 a-side; and in October of the same year sent the
following to the editor of the _Weekly Dispatch_:—
“SIR,—
“‘The John Bull Fighter,’ as he is termed, without meaning any
offence, or a long preface on the subject, wishes to make it known
that he can be backed for £100 a-side against Martin, if it meets
with the approbation of the latter. Also, the same sum is ready to
enter the lists with Garrol, the Suffolk champion; but if Garrol
cannot get £100, I have no objection to accommodate him for £50. I
am to be found at all times ready to make a deposit to the above
effect.
“Yours, etc.,
“JOSHUA HUDSON.
“_October 10, 1821._”
The second fight which was to have taken place between Josh. Hudson and
the Suffolk champion on Tuesday, the 11th of December, 1821, after Neat
defeated Hickman, for £50 a-side, went off, in consequence of a demur
about the stakes. An appeal was made to Mr. Jackson, who advised the
money to be returned. The Suffolk champion threw up his hat in the ring,
but Hudson did not think it necessary, under the circumstances, to
answer it. Had the fight taken place, Tom Owen was on the ground to
second his boy Josh. The forfeit of £20 was given to Hudson by consent
of Garrol’s backers.
A match was made immediately after the above forfeit between Hudson and
the Chatham Caulker for £100 a-side. Bowen, six feet two inches in
height, as the reader has seen, had defeated Josh. a few years before,
at Chatham, in seventeen minutes. David Hudson had likewise surrendered
to his conquering arm. However, the gay boys—the East-enders, with ould
Tom Owen at their head—said Josh. should have another shy for it, if he
lost his stick. The odds were six and seven to four against him. “What
of that?” said Tom Owen; “do you mind me, the bigger the Caulker is, the
better mark my boy Josh. will have to hit at.” This battle was decided
on Wimbledon Common on Tuesday, February, 5, 1822.
Soon after peep of day the fancy were in motion to reach Banstead Downs,
the appointed spot for the mill; but the secret had slipped out, and the
beaks had got hold of the scent; yet timely notice was given to the
travellers, to prevent their proceeding farther than the Cock at Sutton.
Some doubts also existed upon the subject on the preceding evening at
the sporting houses in town, and several swells preferred starting for
Croydon to be in readiness for the result. Sutton, however, was the
rallying point; and after some little consideration, Smitham Bottom was
the next place determined upon, to accomplish which, two roads presented
themselves (and precious ones they were), when the company brushed off
in all directions, and bad was the best. To describe the ludicrous
incidents which occurred across the country for nearly seven miles a
small volume would scarcely suffice. In many instances several of the
horsemen, mounted on good cross-country bits of horseflesh, went the
pace in steeple-chasing style; and, by way of increasing the effect, at
one period sly Reynard appeared in view, followed by the Surrey hounds
in full cry. A few of the ring-goers, who were upon horses (now reduced
to hacks) which in better times were hunters, found their situations
become ticklish, and one of the “Jemmy Green” fraternity, who was
floored slap in the mud, observed, with a face as long as one’s arm,
“That the stable-keeper had not used him well by putting him on a
hunter, and not tellin’ of him.” The puffing and blowing of the poor
toddler, to keep up with the carriages: gigs shivered to pieces, upset,
or their springs broken; post-chaises fast up to the naves of the fore
wheels in clay, altogether formed so serio-comic a sketch that the pen
cannot do justice to it. Boreas, too, took unwarrantable liberties with
the head covers of the company, and many a hero’s tile was not replaced
on his upper story without a scampering of a quarter of a mile for it.
Smitham Bottom was at length reached in a tremendous shower of rain, the
turnpike was paid without murmuring, and all the preceding troubles were
forgotten on the ring appearing in sight. But here another difficulty
arose: the stakes had been scarcely put into the ground, when a “beak”
unexpectedly appeared, attended by his clerk, and put a stop to the
battle. This was a reverend gentleman, upon whom no remonstrances could
prevail. A funny fellow immediately observed to the preacher, “That it
would not hinder him from receiving one jot less of his tithes; but if
he was determined to prevent the contest taking place, he might, in lieu
thereof, be kind enough to give them a sarmon against the noble old
English practice of boxing. This might have two advantages—make them
disperse, if not, perhaps change their opinions upon the subject.” The
only answer elicited was, “That he would follow them all over the
county.” No time was to be lost, and the assemblage again hurried off in
all directions to gain Wimbledon Common. The sudden influx of company
which poured into Croydon, put all the good people of that place on the
stare; the doors and windows of the houses were crowded to witness the
movements of the discomfited fancy. The bipeds by this time were dead
beat; in fact, they were off their legs. The horses, too, were almost
baked to a stand-still; and the storm coming on thicker and faster, many
preferred the comforts of a good inn and a prime dinner to a doubtful
chase; indeed, numerous bets were laid that no fight would take place on
that day. The champion, Tom Cribb, with several of his friends, being of
this opinion, preferred toasting milling over a bottle of black strap to
further adventures. But the out-and-outers, whom neither wind, weather,
hail, rain, nor shine can get the best of, regardless of the pitiless
pelting storm, braved its fury for many a long mile, without a dry
thread upon their backs, till they again met Bill Gibbons, with the
stakes, on Wimbledon Common. The ring was quickly made; but the
spectators were select and few, some thousands being left behind.
Neither had the beak pluck enough to encounter the storm or distance,
the persevering ones having travelled nearly forty miles to witness the
battle. At seventeen minutes to five o’clock, Hudson, attended by Tom
Owen and Randall, threw his hat into the ring. The Caulker immediately
followed him, attended by Sutton and Jackson, a butcher, from Chatham.
The Caulker was decidedly the favourite, six and five to four. Hudson
immediately went up to his opponent and shook hands heartily with him.
The President of the Daffy Club (Mr. R. Soares) held “the ticker.”
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—The person of the Caulker was unknown to the ring-goers.
True, his fame had gone before him, and he had been represented as
nothing else but an out-and-outer, a terror to all milling coves in
the neighbourhood of Chatham, and the best and strongest man in the
dock-yard. David Hudson proved a mere chick in his hands, and Josh.
had been licked against his will in seventeen minutes. The knowing
ones, who do not like to remain idle, and who always endeavour to
get a guinea upon a safe suit, were thus induced to lay the odds
upon the Caulker, and in many instances rather heavily. It was
farther said of him that he was a second Bill Neat, and that his
right, whenever it told, was a sort of quietus. On the appearance of
the Caulker in the ring, the general remarks were in his
favour—“That he was a good nobbed one, snake-headed, had the length
of his adversary, and looked a dangerous customer.” However, on
peeling and getting rid of the swell white upper tog (which,
by-the-bye, seemed to fit him like a purser’s shirt upon a
handspike), he appeared a thin, lanky man, yet with good arms. On
shaking hands with Hudson, he stood over the latter several inches.
The round frame and ruddy face of Josh. was in singular contrast
with the countenance of his opponent. It was observed on all hands
that the John Bull Fighter was too fat, when a wag remarked that the
contest being between roast beef and soup-maigre, John Bull was
perfectly in character. Very little sparring took place before the
Caulker endeavoured to put in his right hand, but Hudson got away
from its force with much dexterity. The Caulker endeavoured to
repeat this mode of attack, when Hudson again retreated with
success. Some hard fighting ensued, several hard blows were
exchanged, and the length of the Caulker was thought to give him the
superiority. Hudson planted a tremendous hit upon his opponent’s
ivories, that not only made them chatter, but produced a pinky
appearance upon his lips. The Caulker, however, was not behind hand
in returning the favour, and put in such a slap under Josh.’s right
ogle as started the claret, sent him off his balance, and dropped
him on one knee; he would have fallen, if he had not been caught
hold of by Tom Owen, when the round finished.[45] (The Chathamites
were up in the stirrups at the success of their hero, and loudly
offered to back him at six to four.)
2.—This triumph was of short duration, and Josh. convinced the
spectators that he was by far the better fighter, as well as the
harder hitter. John Bull was now in his glory; laughing at all
danger, he resolutely went in to his opponent. Some tremendous blows
were exchanged in favour of Hudson; indeed, it was all fighting. For
a rally, there was never a better boxer or a more determined one
than Josh. Hudson. He finished the round in fine style, and floored
his adversary by a terrific hit on his knowledge box, that gave the
Caulker quite a different view of the battle. (The East-enders were
now dancing with delight, and offering to sport their blunt like
waste paper. In the ecstasy of the moment, five to two and two to
one was current betting. The Chathamites looked blue. “My boy,” said
Tom Owen, “I always knew you were good at a short cut, but I did not
think you could play half so well at long bowls. Do you mind me,
Josh.; another such a tickler will send all the Chathamites to
Gravesend with pockets to let.” “I’m awake, my Tommy,” replied
Josh.)
3 and last.—John Bull came up to the scratch jolly, and eager to
commence offensive operations; while, on the contrary, the Caulker
came up slow and shaky; however, as a last resource, he endeavoured
furiously to attack Hudson, who got away laughing. The combatants
now got into a desperate rally, and Josh, received the most pepper,
till he put in a Gas-light Man’s shot in the middle of his
opponent’s mug that sent him staggering some yards; he appeared as
stupid as a man without a nob. Hudson lost no time, but, from the
length of his opponent, two blows fell short upon his shoulder, till
he finished the battle by another Gas-lighter under his opponent’s
ear, when the Caulker fell in a state of stupor, from which he did
not recover for some time after Josh. had regained his post-chaise.
When time was called, the battle had only occupied three minutes and
a half and a few seconds.
REMARKS.—This last hit was an electric shock to the backers of the
Caulker, many of whom were naval men. Not a few of the travellers,
too, were disgusted at so short a fight after such a long and weary
journey. “How we have been gammoned,” said those who had been
persuaded to lay the odds on Bowen; “this man a terror to all the
dock-yard men and milling ‘salts’ in the neighbourhood of Chatham?
If so, what a prize Josh. must be!” When Josh. met the Caulker the
first time he was a stripling of ten stone four pounds; he was now
over twelve stone, had learnt much, and by his in-fighting set at
nought the Caulker’s great length of arm. Large sums of money were
lost throughout Kent upon the Caulker. A bright moon and pleasant
air, after the day’s storm, rendered the ride home doubly pleasant
to the winners.
Josh., ever anxious to be doing, addressed the following to the editor
of the _Weekly Dispatch_:—
“SIR,—
“I wish, through the medium of your paper, to inform Mr. Martin that
I am ready to fight him for one or two hundred pounds, either before
or after his fight with Randall. Should he accept this challenge, I
am ready, at any time he shall appoint, to meet him at Mr. Holt’s,
Golden Cross Chop House, Cross Street, Long Acre, to make a deposit;
should he refuse (having been once defeated by him), I must, to use
the language he so generously adopted when challenging Randall,
pronounce him ‘a cur.’ I also wish to inform the sporting world that
the challenge to Ned Turner, which appeared in your paper of last
Sunday week, as coming from me, I know nothing of; and be assured
the John Bull Fighter, as I am termed, possesses too much of a John
Bull heart to exult over a defeated pugilist; and Messrs. Old Tom
and Old Time having made great inroads upon the constitution of poor
Ned, it was farthest from my thoughts to give a challenge, which I
know his proud heart could not brook, nor his health admit him to
accept.
“I am, sir, your obedient servant,
“JOSHUA HUDSON.
“_Golden Cross Chop House, May 4, 1822._”
A month or two subsequently, Bill Abbot having dared Josh. to the field,
he inserted the following as an answer to Abbot’s challenge:—
“SIR,—
“With reference to your letter of Sunday last, I shall be happy to
accommodate you for fifty a-side, and any day this week you will
find me or my money at the Cock and Cross, Red Cross Street, London
Docks, to make the match. If your friends will back you for £100, I
wish to say my money is ready, and in that case I will wait upon you
to make a deposit of £20, as far West as you may appoint. I went the
other evening to Mr. Belcher’s, and did hope to have found you, or
some friend, to have made the match; but was there informed by one
of your backers it was a mistake.
“I am, sir, yours obediently,
“JOSHUA HUDSON.
“_July 14, 1822._”
The John Bull Fighter was matched, at short notice, with a countryman of
the name of Barlow, called the Nottingham Youth, for £50 a-side. This
battle was decided on Tuesday, September 10, 1822. Great sums of money
were pending, and the road from London to St. Alban’s was covered with
vehicles of every description, their inmates anxious to behold the “new
hero” make his _début_. Barlow, according to report, had beaten twelve
of the best men in Yorkshire, and the knowing ones were persuaded into
the delusion that he would swallow Josh. at a bolt, afterwards dispose
of Shelton, and ultimately put out “the Gas.” So many wagons on the
ground well filled with country gentlemen (particularly from Yorkshire)
had not been witnessed for a long time. A few minutes before one, Josh.
threw his white topper into the ring with more than usual animation, as
much as to say, “I mean to win, and nothing else!” He was followed by
that “special original,” Tom Owen, and Randall, also in white hats.
Hudson was loudly cheered by the spectators. The backer of Josh.
accompanied him within the ropes, wearing the same emblem. Barlow was
not forgotten by the crowd on making his appearance arm-in-arm with
Belcher and Harmer. Hudson went up and shook hands with him. Josh.
peeled instantly, and got ready; but the countryman was so long in
preparing, George Head lacing his shoes carefully, and a number of
officiating attendants crowding about him, that Tom Owen sung out, “What
are you arter, Mr. Bel-s-h-a-r; you are keeping us waiting? Your man
don’t seem to like it much. D’ye mind me?” Hudson also observed, “Come,
what are we waiting for; I’m ready—let’s go to work.” Five to four on
Barlow.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—On peeling, the frame of the Nottingham hero did not appear
calculated to punish, and most of the pugilists present made up
their minds Hudson must win. It is true, the John Bull Fighter was
rather too fleshy; nevertheless, he was in fine condition, and,
united with his laughing, open, and confident countenance, setting
defeat at defiance, made a considerable impression in his favour
with the surrounding multitude. On setting-to, Josh. stood firm as a
rock, with his left arm extended, nearly touching the fists of
Barlow, for half a minute; on the contrary, the knees of the
countryman shook (by-the-bye, he was a bad-legged one); he appeared
puzzled, and at a loss how to commence the attack. Josh., finding
his opponent in no hurry to begin, let fly, and counter-hits took
place. The ivory box of John Bull received a small taste; but the
nose of Barlow napped a rap which produced the claret. Josh.,
laughing, said to the umpires, “First blood.” This decided numerous
wagers. (The East-enders began to chevy it was all right, and the
“special original” offered ten to one on Hudson, when Belcher
replied, “I’ll take it.” “Stop till the round is over,” said Owen,
“and it will be twenty to one.”) Hudson put down his hands and
rubbed them on his drawers, but the countryman did not take
advantage of this opening. Josh. saw that he had got him, stepped
in, in the Randall and Curtis style, and, without ceremony, planted
a tremendous hit under the listener of Barlow that sent him down
like a shot. The countryman seemed all abroad. The shouting by the
boys from the Tower was uproarious in the extreme, and five to one
was offered all round the ring. Anything like description must fall
short in portraying the emotions of the various countenances. The
chaff-cutting countrymen, who had been so jolly before, were all
struck of a heap; the few knowing ones, too—who knew everything
about the feats of Barlow, and had been let into the secret, “as how
the Nottingham boy had beaten twelve men in the country, had knocked
Tom Belcher about in a private set-to, and had got the best of Gully
in a bout with the gloves”—began to drop down a little, and to look
blue; while the sages of the East offered “little all” that John
Bull would again prove victorious. “Do you mind me, Josh.,” said Tom
Owen, “it’s as right as the day; you have only to go in and lick him
off-hand.” “Yes,” replied Josh., laughing, “I’ve got him safe enough
now; I liked him when I first saw him.”
2.—The countryman was reduced to a mere dummy: he was quite puzzled,
and came up to the scratch to be floored by Josh. in a twinkling.
(Ten to one offered, but no takers. Hudson as strong as a horse.)
3.—Similar to the last: Barlow again measured his length on the
turf.
4.—Barlow, although without a chance to win, showed himself a game
man, and came to the mark for another shy; but it was only to be hit
down. (Here the president of the Daffy Club interfered, and
requested he might be taken away. The long faces of “I’s Yarkshire”
beggared all description.)
5 and last.—Barlow came again to fight, but soon found himself in
Pepper Alley. Belcher satisfied that he could not win, put up his
arm to stop further punishment, and he fell down. Josh. jumped out
of the ring as conqueror, only six minutes and a half having
elapsed.
REMARKS.—The friends of Barlow showed great want of judgment in
selecting such a well-known, often-tried, high-couraged man as Josh.
Hudson for his trial opponent in the London prize ring. It was a
hundred pounds to a farthing against Barlow after the first round;
indeed, it was next to an impossibility that he should recover from
the stupefying effects of so tremendous a hit. That he was a game
man there is no doubt: his conduct in the ring decided that fact.
This battle afforded no opportunity of judging accurately upon the
subject of Barlow’s real capabilities. Hudson had not a single mark,
and said it was one of the easiest things he had ever had in his
life. On recovering from his surprise, in the post-chaise, Barlow
wished his friends to let him renew the combat on the ground.
Josh., anxious not to let his faculties lie idle, addressed the
subjoined letter to the editor of the _Weekly Dispatch_:—
“SIR,—
“You will oblige me by inserting the following challenges in your
valuable paper. I understand that the friends of the Suffolk
champion have been at the other end of the town to make a match
against me; in answer to which I have only to say my friends are
ready to meet them any day next week, where they think proper, to
make a deposit, for 100 guineas a-side, to fight once within two
months. I am also informed that Mr. Abraham Belasco wishes to have
another trial with me. If any gentleman will make the match for
Belasco, my friends will meet them at Randall’s any day next week
they shall choose to appoint. I have only to add that, if either of
them wish to do as they say, they must enter the ring before
Christmas, as I mean to be like the rest of the pugilists, and
declare off. Answers from the Suffolk champion and Belasco will
oblige me, that I may know where to meet them on the subject, if
they mean to come to the scratch.
“I remain, sir, your humble servant,
“JOSH. HUDSON.
“_Cock and Cross, Redcross Street, October 4, 1822._”
Tom Shelton, after some delay, was matched with Hudson for £100 a-side,
the mill to take place on Tuesday, November 19, 1822; but, owing to some
reports having got into circulation that it was to be a cross on the
part of Shelton, Mr. Jackson refused the use of the P. C. ropes. The
friends of Shelton, nevertheless, were so satisfied with his integrity
that they immediately made the following match:—
“_Golden Cross, Cross Lane, Long Acre._
“Thomas Shelton agrees to fight Josh. Hudson on Tuesday, the 10th of
December, in a twenty-four feet ring, for £100 a-side, half-minute
time; to be a fair stand-up fight. Mr. Jackson to name the place,
and to hold the stakes of £200. £6 a-side are now deposited in the
hands of the P. of the D. C., and the remainder of the stakes, £94
a-side, to be made good at Mr. Holt’s, on Saturday, the 23rd of
November, between the hours of eight and ten o’clock in the evening,
or the deposit money to be forfeited. An umpire to be chosen on each
side, and Mr. Jackson to name the referee.
“_November 22, 1822._”
This remarkable contest came to issue on Harpenden Common, near St.
Alban’s. Josh. was defeated in less than fifteen minutes, and fourteen
rounds. He was hit out of time, and Shelton was so dead beat that it was
with difficulty he appeared at the scratch to answer the call of “time.”
On the 17th of December, 1822, Josh. (full of Christmas before it began)
had a turn-up in a room with Tom Gaynor, the carpenter, a strong, wiry
chap, then little known, and said to be a bit of a plant. Hudson’s hands
were quite gone, and altogether he was not in a fit state to fight, and
if he had any friends present when the row took place, they ought to
have prevented the battle. The high courage of Josh. brought him through
the piece; but he was severely milled, and met with a very troublesome
customer for thirty-five minutes, before Gaynor could be choked off. To
mend the matter, it was for love. Josh.’s defeat weighed on his mind,
and he thus proposed a renewal of hostilities in a letter:—
“SIR,—
“My late defeat by Shelton having occurred through accident, has
induced me to wish to meet him once more in the ring, for the
satisfaction of myself and friends and the sporting world, for which
purpose I have seen Tom personally; but, for reasons best known to
himself, he declines fighting any more, at least with me. I am
therefore disengaged; and as my friends are ready to back me for
£100 against any one (that fact coupled with the idea I entertain of
myself), I wish, through the means of your valuable paper, to say,
should either Bill Neat or Tom Spring have a leisure hour, once
within three months, to display in real combat the scientific art of
self-defence, I am ready, at any time and place either of these
gents may appoint, to make a deposit to fight for the above sum.
“I am, with respect to Neat and Spring, yours obediently,
“JOSHUA HUDSON.
“_Cock and Cross, Redcross Street, London Docks, January 25, 1823._”
The second match was made between Hudson and Shelton for £100 a-side,
but on Thursday evening, May 23, 1823, Josh. and his friends attended at
Shelton’s house to make his money good for the fight on the ensuing 10th
of June. The money of Hudson, fifty sovereigns, lay on the table for ten
minutes. Shelton in reply, said he was under recognizances, and should
not fight nor would he forfeit. Thus the battle went off, and Hudson
received £30.
Hudson was anxious to make a match with Neat, but the friends of the
latter never appeared at the scratch. Hudson attended at Randall’s house
for the purpose on May 30, 1823.
The John Bull Fighter never let a chance go by him, and the following
epistle clearly decides his anxiety at all times to accommodate a
customer:—
“_To the Editor of the_ WEEKLY DISPATCH.
“SIR,—
“On perusing the daily papers, I understand that Ward challenged me
at the Fives Court on Tuesday last; you will therefore have the
kindness, through your sporting journal, to inform him that the John
Bull Fighter, whether abroad or at home, is always ready to
accommodate any of his friends, to afford a ‘bit of sport.’ If Mr.
Ward, or his backers, will call at Mr. Randall’s, the
Hole-in-the-Wall, Chancery Lane, on Thursday evening next, Hudson
will make a match either for £100 or £200 a-side, as may suit his
opponent.
“I remain, sir, yours, etc.,
“JOSH. HUDSON.
“_Birmingham, August 28, 1823._”
On the arrival of Hudson in London, the following articles were agreed
to:
“_Hole-in-the-Wall, Chancery Lane._
“Josh. Hudson agrees to fight James Ward for £100 a-side. To be a
fair stand-up fight, in a twenty-four feet ring. Half-minute time.
Mr. Jackson to name the place of fighting. The battle to take place
on Tuesday, November 11, 1823. The men to be in the ring, and ready
to fight, between the hours of twelve and one o’clock. An umpire to
be chosen on each side, and a referee to be appointed on the ground.
£10 a-side are now deposited in the hands of a person well known in
the prize ring; £40 a-side more to be made good at Mr. Shelton’s,
Hole-in-the-Wall, Gate Street, Lincoln’s Inn Fields, on Tuesday,
October 7, 1823, between the hours of eight and ten o’clock in the
evening, or the £10 a-side to be forfeited. The remainder of the
stakes, £50 a-side, to be made good a fortnight before fighting, on
Tuesday, October 28, 1823, at Mr. Randall’s, Hole-in-the-Wall,
Chancery Lane, between the hours of eight and ten o’clock in the
evening, or the money deposited to be forfeited.
“Signed,
“For JOSH. HUDSON, G. H.
“JAMES WARD.
“Witness, B. BENNETT.
“_September 4, 1823._”
Upon the above articles being signed, six to four was offered to be
taken by the friends of Ward, and several bets were proposed that Ward’s
money would be made good.
The following remarks were made respecting the milling capabilities of
the combatants previous to the match:—
“The friends of the Black Diamond in the rough (Jem Ward) flatter
themselves he is so much polished by his recent experiments on the nobs
of the provincials, as to be able to take a high number among the
metropolitan boxers. Ward, in point of frame, is a second Hen. Pearce,
so say the ould ones; and his chest is thought to be equal in point of
anatomical beauty and immense strength to any boxer on the P. L. Ward is
likewise a most scientific fighter, active on his legs, and mills on the
retreat in first-rate style. The principal drawback is said to be, that
he is more of a tapper than a heavy punishing hitter; and it is also a
question at present, which time can only answer (in order to make his
resemblance to the Chicken complete), whether the little but important
word ‘game’ is to be added to his character. Ward, on account of his
youth, is much fancied by a great part of the betting world at the west
end of the metropolis, who assert, and back their opinion, he will win
it easily. On the contrary, something like grief has escaped the lips of
the coveys near the Mint; and the Sage of the East has also been caught
on the sly wiping his ogles, that necessity should compel the ‘two Stars
of the East’ to be opposed to each other. Josh. and Ward being
positively in want of a job, and sooner than remain idle, or stand
still, are anxious to take each other by the hand, no opponents from any
part of the kingdom offering to enter the lists with them. Their match
seems made upon the same principle as that of the late Tom Johnson and
Big Ben. ‘Tammy,’ said the latter, ‘you and I never fell out, and that
is the reason why I think we ought to fight.’ This is exactly the
opinion of the John Bull Boxer, who delights in fighting, but detests
quarrelling, laughing heartily at the incidents of a mill, and weeping
over any real distress. Great sums of money are already betted upon the
battle between Hudson and Ward. The former hero is thought to be too
fleshy; but his lion-hearted courage, among his staunch admirers,
overbalances all defects; and numbers take Josh. for choice, while
others are so fond of him as to bet the odds.”
The fight took place on the 11th of November, 1823, on Moulsey Hurst.
Hudson was the favourite at six to four some days before the battle; but
by a dodge on the evening when the final stakes were to be made good, he
reduced the betting to evens, and finally six to four on Ward. He
stuffed himself into a great coat, a dress coat, and seven or eight
under waistcoats, which gave him such a puffy appearance that many even
of his own friends imagined him out of condition. Hudson was always an
attractive feature in the prize ring; and Ward, by anticipation, was
expected to turn out a hero of the first milling class. From the time
Dutch Sam fought Nosworthy, so many vehicles were not seen upon Moulsey
Hurst. A sprinkling of Corinthians ornamented the ring, numerous swells,
a great variety of heavy-betting sporting men, thousands of independent
respectable spectators, lots of commoners, and plenty of persons a shade
below the last mentioned, and, lastly, a multitude of chaps still a
shade lower. The whole was conducted in the most respectable and orderly
manner, under the direction of the Commander-in-Chief, seconded by the
efforts of the Commissary-General. The exertions of Oliver, Scroggins,
Harmer, Sampson, Turner, Carter, etc., also tended in a great degree to
give every individual an opportunity of viewing the fight. Five and
seven shillings each person was demanded for a standing place in the
wagons; and the watermen who ferried the crowds across the Thames were
well paid for their exertions. The Red Lion at Hampton was head
quarters, and every room in the house overflowed with company. Between
twelve and one o’clock Josh., in a drab white coat, with a blue bird’s
eye round his neck, attended by his seconds, Randall and Peter Crawley,
followed by Jem Burn, threw his hat into the ring. Hudson was received
with loud shouts. He looked cheerful, nodded to several friends, and
appeared quite at his ease. After walking about the ring for the space
of ten minutes, “Ward, Ward,” was the cry. “He ought to have been here
before,” said Josh.; “half past twelve o’clock was the agreement.” The
Black Diamond was seen, arm-in-arm with his backer and trainer, making
his way through the crowd, followed by his seconds, Spring and Aby
Belasco. He was cheered as he passed along, and threw his hat spiritedly
into the ring. Ward looked extremely pale on entering the ropes; and the
contrast between the mugs of the combatants was decidedly in favour of
Hudson. While the Black Diamond was sitting on the knee of his second,
preparing for action, he turned round and surveyed his opponent from
head to foot. Randall tied the colours of Josh., “true blue,” to the
stakes, and Spring placed Ward’s, green, alongside of them. “Go to
work,” was now the order of the day.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—Hudson, on throwing off his togs, amused the spectators by
a dramatic touch—a new feature in the prize ring—something like the
comic business in Hamlet. On getting rid of his linen, which had
been nicely got up by his laundress for the occasion, a flannel
cameza was discovered, and the eager peepers of the amateurs were
disappointed in not beholding Josh.’s canvas, a second layer of
Welsh obscuring it. “Hallo!” said the Nonpareil, “how many more of
them have you got on?” “Why, you are made of flannel,” rejoined
Peter. “Leave it all to the cook,” replied Josh., smiling; “ask Ward
about that by-and-bye.” To the great astonishment of the crowd
Randall divested a third from his frame before Josh.’s rotundity of
abdomen, broad jolly shoulders, and round arms were exposed for
action. At length the John Bull Fighter appeared all in his glory:
“His soul in arms, and eager for the fray.” “Let no person assert
that Josh. has not been careful of himself,” observed a young sprig
of aristocracy. “Careful, indeed!” replied an old sporting man; “do
not say a word about being careful: he is in no condition at all; he
is not fit to fight. For myself, I never make any calculations upon
his training; no, no, system and Hudson are not pals; and the old
Sage of the East, Tom Owen, has deplored this defect in his darling
boy times and often with watery ogles. It is his invincible bottom
that never flinches while nature holds her empire over his frame
that renders Hudson a safe man to back at all times. Recollect Ben
Burn’s character of Tom Cribb, ‘I wouldn’t mind fighting Cribb,’
said Ben, ‘but Tom has not sense enough to leave off; he never knows
when he has got enough.’” The John Bull was now only waiting to
shake the hand of his opponent to show the spectators that animosity
had no place in the contest, fame and glory being his only object in
view. Ward was in tip-top condition; in fact, he could not have been
better: he was nearly, if not quite, as heavy, without the grossness
of his opponent, and thus possessed the advantages of training. The
bust of the Black Diamond was pronounced “beautiful” by the admirers
of anatomy; indeed, the whole figure of Ward was of so manly an
appearance, that a sculptor might have long looked for such a model
of a pugilist. The combatants placed themselves in attitude. Hudson
stood firmly with his left arm extended, looking steadfastly at his
opponent, ready for any chance that might offer, well knowing that
he had an active and scientific boxer before him. The forte of Ward
immediately showed itself: hitting and getting away seemed to be the
object he had in view. After a short pause, and both moving a few
paces on the ground, Josh. let fly with his left, but the Black
Diamond got away with activity. Ward endeavoured to make a hit, but
his distance from Josh. was too respectful to do any mischief.
Hudson looked cheerful and Ward smiled. Hudson aimed a heavy blow
with his right hand, but the Black Diamond was not to be had, and
retreated. Josh., perceiving that long bowls were of no service,
determined to try if a broadside would not bring his adversary into
action; he went to work _sans cérémonie_, and an exchange of heavy
blows was the result. The Black Diamond napped a blow on the side of
the neck, which, if it had been planted a little higher, might have
been mischievous. In closing at the ropes Ward commenced the weaving
system actively, but the situation of Josh. gave him the opportunity
of beating the back part of Ward’s neck and head. In struggling for
the throw, Ward obtained it cleverly, Hudson being undermost.
(Shouting, and “Well done, Jem! that’s the way, my lad; you can win
it by throwing only.” “Walker!” said an old sailor from the Cock and
Cross; “lick my old messmate by a throw indeed! You don’t know
him.”)
2.—Josh.’s forehead was a little rouged, and the right ear of the
Black Diamond vermilioned from the effects of the last round. Ward
would not make play, and Hudson found his man very difficult to be
got at. A short time was occupied in dodging, when Hudson again
resolutely commenced the attack. Several blows of no tender nature
were exchanged between them till they fought their way into close
quarters. Ward, with great spirit and activity, fibbed his opponent
_à la_ Randall, but not without return. After severe struggling they
separated, and both went down.
3.—Josh. stopped well, and also got away from a heavy hit. Ward
smiled. A smart rally took place, in which Hudson received a rum one
that caused him to stagger, stagger, and stagger till he went down
on his rump. It is true it was from the effects of the hit; but
perhaps it would be too much to term it a knock-down blow. In the
above rally Ward also received a teazer on the tip of his nose which
produced the claret, and he dropped, a little exhausted, on one knee
at the conclusion of the round. (“Ward will win it,” from his
partizans; “he’ll be able to make a fool of the fat one in ten
minutes.” The odds decidedly on the Black Diamond.)
4.—This round was short, but very sweet to the backers of Hudson.
The latter, on setting-to, floored Ward like a shot. (The joy was so
great on this event that the Bullites roared like bulls, the Black
Diamond’s friends looking a little blue at this momentous triumph.)
5.—This was an out-and-out round on both sides. Ward was on his
mettle, and nothing else but milling followed. Josh. made play, and
Ward turned to with equal gaiety. Some heavy blows passed between
them, and Josh. turned round in breaking away from his adversary. A
short pause, when Hudson kept creeping after Ward, who was
retreating, till another rally was the result, in which the Black
Diamond had the best of it, till Josh. again broke away. Hudson was
terribly distressed, and Ward committed the error of letting the
John Bull Fighter make a pause till he recovered his wind; in fact,
Ward would not fight first. The high-couraged ould one, puffing and
blowing like a grampus, again commenced play, but received three
facers for his temerity. Another pause. Hudson was now at a
stand-still, and his bad condition was visible to every one, but he
would attempt to mill undismayed, till he received a tremendous blow
on his left cheek-bone, which sent him down in a twinkling. This was
a clean knock-down blow. (The Black Diamonders were now in turn
brilliant. “That’s the way, my Jem’s eye; it’s all your own. We’ll
back you now two to one, nay, three to one. You can’t lose it.”)
6.—The heart of Hudson was as sound as ever, and his eye still
possessed its wonted fire, but his distressed state was evident. Two
severe counter-hits separated the combatants from each other, and
both of them felt the severity of the blows. Ward retreated fast
from Josh.; but the latter kept creeping and creeping after him till
the Black Diamond was near the ropes, and compelled to fight. Here
the John Bull Fighter found himself at home, that is to say, at
close quarters, a sort of yard-arm and yard-arm fighting, where all
his blows told. Josh. not only stopped skilfully, but he put in two
such tremendous hits on Ward’s body, that the face of the Black
Diamond exhibited excruciating grimaces. Hudson also finished the
round by throwing Ward. (Another uproarious shout. The spectators
all alive, and the John Bull Fighter, if not the favourite among the
betting men, seemed to have the interest of the unbiassed part of
the audience.)
7.—Hudson, while sitting on Crawley’s knee, appeared exhausted, but
not in pluck, and laughed at Randall’s telling him to recollect his
invitation of dining with the Lord Chancellor to-morrow. On time
being called, Josh., with much judgment, kept sparring at the
scratch to recover his wind. Hudson cleverly stopped a heavy blow.
In closing at the ropes the activity displayed by Ward in fibbing
his opponent was the admiration of the ring, but it was more showy
than effective. Hudson, though awkwardly held, nevertheless
administered most punishment. Ward again threw his opponent
cleverly.
8.—Some pausing occurred, Ward waiting for his opponent to make
play. “You must come to me, Jem,” said Josh.; “I shall not go after
you; I shall stand here all day.” “So can I,” replied Ward. Hudson
soon broke through his resolution, and went to work, Ward fighting
and retreating till he was against the ropes. Here the combatants
closed, and the Black Diamond endeavoured to fib his adversary,
until Josh., in rather a singular manner, extricated himself from
the gripe of his adversary, and found himself outside of the ring,
when he put in a blow across the ropes which floored the Black
Diamond. (Loud shouting in favour of Hudson; but in betting
generally Ward was the hero of the tale.)
9.—The face of Hudson was red and puffy, and it was astonishing to
witness a man fight so well who laboured under such an evident state
of distress. The skill of Ward, added to his goodness on his legs,
should have given him confidence to have fought immediately with
Josh. on his appearing at the scratch. Owing to the want of this
confidence, he gave a chance away. “The John Bull” again commenced
play, but Ward would not be hit. Hudson, on the creeping system,
gently followed Ward all over the ring, until the latter was in a
situation that he was compelled to fight. A slaughtering rally took
place, hit for hit, till both the men went down. (Spring, on picking
up his man and looking at Hudson, observed, “I should like to have a
calf’s head as fat as Josh.’s face.” “Softly,” said Crawley, “you
don’t know how soon your own mug may be in a worse condition.”)
10.—This was a fine fighting round altogether, exhibiting skill,
bottom, and bravery. Josh., after a short pause, endeavoured to feel
for his adversary’s nob, but Ward retreated. The Black Diamond,
however, returned upon Hudson quickly, and missed a tremendous blow
aimed at Josh.’s head; it alighted upon his shoulder. A severe but
short rally occurred, till the combatants separated from distress.
Hudson was determined to put his opponent to the test, and the
exchange of blows was severe, till they were compelled to make a
pause. “To lick or be licked,” says Josh., “here goes!” and hit for
hit occurred till both the men went down.
11.—This round led to the decision of the battle. Ward was pinking
Josh.’s nob and retreating, as the John Bull kept creeping after
him, till a severe rally was the result. Josh. put in a tremendous
blow under Ward’s left eye, which closed it. The Black Diamond was
wild and quite abroad from its severity, hitting at random. It was
now blow for blow till Ward was floored.
12.—It was evident that Ward could not measure his distance
accurately, and his blows were given like a man feeling for his way
in the dark; nevertheless, this was a complete milling round.
Hudson’s mug was red in the extreme, and he did not appear to have
wind enough to puff out a farthing rushlight. Ward was also
distressed; indeed, it was the expressed opinion of some of the old
fanciers that “it was anybody’s battle.” When time was called, a
minute, if it could have been allowed, would have proved very
acceptable to both parties. After a short pause at the scratch Ward
got away from a heavy body blow. At the ropes a smart exchange of
blows occurred, when they separated. Hudson stopped a heavy lunge in
great style. At the ropes another sharp encounter took place, till
both of the men were at a stand-still. Ward endeavoured to put in a
nobber, which Josh. stopped so skilfully as to extort applause from
all parts of the crowd. In a struggle at the corner of the ring Ward
was sent out of the ropes, and Hudson fell on one of his knees. (The
backers of both parties were on the funk. There seemed no decided
certainty about it: hope and fear were depicted on the faces of the
friends of both men at this juncture. It was an awful moment for the
cash account—the transfer of some thousands was at hand.)
13.—Hudson’s little smiling eyes, although nearly obscured by the
bumps and thumps above and below them, had not lost their fire, and
he said to Randall, on coming to the scratch, “I am satisfied, Jack,
I have got him.” The face of the Black Diamond was completely
metamorphosed, and his peepers nearly darkened. On setting-to Hudson
planted a nobber, which sent Ward staggering two or three yards, and
he was nearly going down. Hudson followed his opponent, and some
blows were exchanged; when, in closing, Josh. fell on Ward with all
his weight. (“John Bull for £100; five to one,” and higher odds.
Victory was now in sight. “Hudson can’t lose it,” was the general
cry.)
14.—Badly distressed as Josh. appeared to be, on coming to the
scratch he was by far the better man of the two. Ward did what he
could to obtain a turn, and, in closing at the ropes, endeavoured to
fib his adversary; but Hudson pummelled Ward so severely behind his
nob, that in a confused manner he let go his hold. A few blows were
then exchanged, when the John Bull gave Ward a _coup de grace_ that
sent him down flat on his back. (“Ward will not come again; it’s all
over!”)
15 and last.—When time was called, Spring brought his man to the
scratch, but Ward was in so tottering a state that he was balancing
on one leg. (“Take him away!” “Don’t hit him, Josh.”) The John Bull
Fighter, with that generosity of mind which distinguishes his
character, merely pushed his opponent down, when the battle was at
an end. Josh. took hold of Randall’s hat and threw it up in the air,
and at the same time he tried to make a jump. If not quite so light,
graceful, nor so high as the pirouette of an Oscar Byrne, yet, it
was that sort of indication that he did jump for joy. Hudson
immediately left the ring amidst the shouts of the populace, crossed
the water, and prudently went to bed at the Bell, at Hampton. The
battle was over in thirty-six minutes.
REMARKS.—Ward must be pronounced a fine fighter: he completely
understands scientific movements, and, perhaps it is not too much to
assert, he is master of the art of self-defence. His most
conspicuous fault in this battle appeared to be in not fighting
first, and evincing too great anxiety to avoid the blows of his
opponent. The Black Diamond is excellent upon his legs—few, if any,
boxers better; but, in his fondness for retreating, his blows,
however numerous, did not reduce the courage of the John Bull
Fighter. It has been urged that Ward was shy of his adversary. The
name and character of Josh. Hudson, as one of the gamest of the game
boxers on the list, no doubt has some terrors attached to it, and we
think it had a little effect upon the feelings of Ward. Hudson was
now in his twenty-seventh year, and victory had crowned his efforts
sixteen times. In the battle with Ward the extraordinary courage he
displayed was the theme of every one present. To courage, and
courage alone, he may attribute his success; but at the same time we
are sure that he might have been in much better condition, if he had
paid more attention to his training. Hudson, we must assert, relied
too much upon his courage; in fact, he was so completely exhausted
two or three times in the fight, that his most sanguine friends were
doubtful of the result. Ward proved himself a troublesome customer,
and difficult to be got at. Josh. won the battle out of the fire.
Ward was considerably punished about the head, and put to bed
immediately after the battle, at Hampton. Upon the whole it was a
fine manly fight.
On the fight being over, “Home, sweet home,” was the object in view, and
the night fast approaching, the proverb of the “devil take the
hindmost,” seemed to be uppermost. The toddlers brushed off by thousands
to the water’s edge, and, in spite of the entreaties of the ferrymen,
the first rush jumped into the boats in such numbers as nearly to
endanger their own lives. However, the watermen soon got the “best of
it,” by demanding a bob or more to carry over in safety select
companies. Yet so great was the pressure of the crowd, and so eager to
cross the water to Hampton, that several embraced Old Father Thames
against their will, amidst the jeers and shouts of their more fortunate
companions. A nice treat, by way of a cooler, in an afternoon in
November, sixteen miles distant from home. The other side of the Hurst
produced as much fun and laughter, from the barouches, rattlers, gigs,
heavy drags, etc., galloping off towards Kingston Bridge through fields
covered with water, to save time. Several were seen sticking fast in the
mud, the proprietors begging assistance from those persons whose horses
were strong enough for the purpose; but “a friend in need” was here out
of the question. Two or three drags that were overloaded with “live
stock” broke down in similar situations, which a wag observing, sung
out, by way of consolation to the Jacks in the water, “that they were
going home swimmingly.” One block up of this kind operated on a string
of carriages upwards of half a mile in length. Upon the whole, it was a
lively and amusing picture. The vehicles were so numerous, that two
hours had elapsed before the whole of them had passed over Kingston
Bridge, to the great joy and profit of the proprietors of the gates. For
miles round Moulsey Hurst it proved a profitable day for the inns; and
money that otherwise might have remained idle in the pockets of persons
who could afford to spend it, was set to work in the consumption of
articles tending to benefit hundreds of tradesmen, who otherwise (like
Dennis Brulgruddery) might have been long on the look-out for “a
customer.”
Josh. purchased several pieces of blue silk handkerchiefs, and as a
convincing proof to his friends that he meant nothing else but winning
the battle, he presented one to each of them on the condition that if
he, Hudson, won the battle, he was to receive a guinea; but if defeated,
not a farthing was to be paid to him. Hudson cleared £100 by the above
speculation several of his backers presenting him with £5 a-piece for
the blue flag.
Hudson, on meeting with Ward in London the morning after the battle,
enquired after his health, shook hands with him, and presented him with
a £5 note.
At a meeting of the Partiality Club, held at Mr. Tuff’s, the Blue
Anchor, East Smithfield, on Thursday evening, November 13, 1823, it was
proposed by Pierce Egan, seconded by Tom Owen, and carried unanimously,
that a silver cup, of the value of 100 guineas, be presented to the John
Bull Fighter for the true courage displayed by him at all times in the
prize ring. The room was small, the company but few in number, yet in
less than five minutes, so glorious was the East-end upon this occasion,
that the subscriptions amounted to £20. The money was immediately put
down, and Mrs. Tuff (wife of the landlord), as an admirer of true
courage, begged the favour of being permitted to add her guinea.
At Crawley’s benefit at the Fives Court, Wednesday, November 12, 1823,
on Hudson showing himself on the stage, he was warmly congratulated by
his friends. “Gentlemen,” said Hudson, “I have been informed by Mr. Egan
that Shelton has made an assertion that Ward received £100 to lose the
battle with me. I will bet any person five to one that he does not prove
it. (Bravo!) I will also fight Tom Shelton for from £25 to £200 a-side
when the time he is bound over for expires. If Ward is in the Court let
him come forward and meet this charge made against him.” (Applause.)
Shelton appeared upon the stage and said, “I have been told by Ben Burn
that Ward received £100. I merely repeated it, and give up the author.”
“That’s right, Tom; you’ve cleared yourself.” Burn then appeared and
said, he had heard in casual conversation what he had repeated to
Shelton. Here Ward rushed up the steps and said, as he stood between
Shelton and Burn, “The whole is a direct falsehood;” and added
indignantly, “I will fight either of them, gentlemen, for £100, and cast
back the slander. (Applause.) I now publicly assert that no individual
whatever ever offered me one single farthing to lose the battle. I felt
confident I could win.” (Great applause.) Josh. Hudson: “And I will
fight Ben Burn any day he likes to appoint, my £100 against his £60.”
Vehement cheering, during which Uncle Ben tried a reply. He had no more
chance than an unpopular candidate on the hustings. All that could be
heard was a declaration that he had not had fair play, and they did not
act towards him like Englishmen. The suspicions, if any had legitimately
existed, as to the fairness of the fight between Hudson and Ward, were
utterly dissipated.
Hudson and Sampson were matched on the bustle for £100 a-side, owing, it
would appear, to a word and a blow, Sampson—always very
fast—entertaining an opinion he had improved, not only as a boxer, but
was a better man in every point of view than heretofore, while the John
Bull Fighter always thought he could polish off Sampson at any period in
a twenty-four foot ring.[46] Articles were entered into; but Josh., in
order to gain three weeks in training, forfeited £10 to Sampson, at Mr.
King’s, the Cock and Cross, East Smithfield, on March 8, 1824, and a new
match was made the same evening, for £100 a-side, to come off on
Tuesday, May 11, 1824.
PRESENTATION OF A SILVER CUP TO JOSH. HUDSON.—On Thursday, May 6, 1824,
previous to this trophy being deposited in the hands of the John Bull
Boxer, the Partiality Club dinner took place at Mr. Tuff’s, Blue Anchor,
East Smithfield. The festive board was truly inviting; the wines
excellent; and a silver cup which had been given to a gentleman of the
name of Docker, for his spirited conduct in behalf of the oppressed poor
in the parish—as one of the links connected with “true courage”—was also
placed in view of the visitors. On the cloth being removed, the John
Bull Fighter’s cup, filled with five bottles of port, was placed in the
front of the Chairman, and Hudson took his seat on the right hand side
of the President. Pierce Egan occupied the chair, and accordingly fills
six pages of “Boxiana” with a newspaper report _apropos_ of—nothing. The
health of Hudson having been drunk, he received the cup with great
emotion. “Gentlemen,” said Josh., “I cannot make a speech, but, believe
me, my gratitude and thanks are sincere, and as you have honoured me
with this cup in the name of true courage, why I will endeavour to
support my character for true courage to the end of my life.” The cup
then passed round. The healths of Mr. Jackson, Tom Cribb, and the
leading supporters of the prize ring, were drunk, and Josh. departed to
the country to finish his training for his fight with Sampson.
The cup bears the following inscription:—
“THIS CUP
Was presented to the
JOHN BULL FIGHTER,
ON THURSDAY, THE 6TH OF MAY, 1824,
As a Reward for the
TRUE COURAGE
which
JOSHUA HUDSON
Displayed throughout all his Contests in the
PRIZE RING.
John Bull in the ring has so oft play’d his part,
The form let it be in the shape of a heart—
A true British one! at its shrine take a sup:
Can a more noble model be found for a cup?—P. E.
* * * * *
This Piece of Plate was raised by Subscription;
The Contributors were
Several Members of the PARTIALITY CLUB,
a few frequenters of the WIDOW MELSOM;
(and in confirmation that ‘_None but the Brave deserve the Fair!_’
The HOSTESSES of the above houses);
And by those Amateurs who are supporters of the Noble
ART OF SELF-DEFENCE.”
The cup, as indicated in the doggrel to which P. E. is engraved, is
heart-shaped. On the cover is the figure of a sailor, with an anchor and
foul cable. The report goes on:—“In front of the cup a small heart
appears over four divisions, intended for the boxers’ coat of arms. The
first division represents the pugilists in attitude. The second portrays
one of the combatants down on his knees, his opponent with his arms held
up walking away, in order to show that he will not take any unfair
advantage. The third division exhibits the battle at an end, the
defeated man sitting upon the knee of his second in the act of shaking
hands with the victor, to evince that no malice exists between them. The
fourth depicts the honours of conquest—the conqueror carried out of the
ring upon the shoulders of his seconds, with the purse in his hands.
Several other appropriate embellishments appear on the different parts
of the cup, on the bottom of which the lion is seen with the lamb
reposing at his feet; and at no great distance from the lion is the
English bull-dog, as a second to the king of the forest.”
The affair of Hudson and Sampson was fixed for Tuesday, May 11, 1824, at
Haydon Grange Farm, forty miles from the metropolis. Hudson was
originally the favourite, at five and six to four, and heavy sums were
laid out on him at Tattersall’s at these figures. But on the day before
the fight there was a rush to get on to Sampson, and the odds went about
at six to four on the Birmingham Youth. This sudden change terrified the
East-enders, and many tried to get off.
At one o’clock the ring was formed in a most delightful situation, and,
punctual to time, Josh. threw his white topper into the ring. Just
before, however, the backers of Sampson declared that they preferred
forfeiting the £100 stakes to the risk of losing more than £1,000, as
numbers of sporting men had declared off, and that they would not pay if
Hudson lost the battle. Hereupon Hudson’s backers offered to cancel the
old articles, and post £100 for a new match to come off there at two
o’clock. This was refused, and the altercation became violent, but
Sampson’s backers said he should not fight that day. The wrangle having
subsided, two Cambridge men, Samuel Larkins[47] and William Shadbolt, of
local fame, and both styled “champions,” threw their hats into the ring.
The Cantabs, who were in force, took great interest in the result.
Paddington Jones and Jem Ward seconded Larkins, and Tom Oliver and Ned
Stockman picked up Shadbolt. Larkins, in nineteen rounds, polished off
Shadbolt completely.
Hudson walked round the ring, conversing with his friends during the
battle. The John Bull Fighter was never in such excellent condition in
any previous battle, and loudly expressed himself dissatisfied at
receiving the battle-money without a fight. “The sporting world,” said
Josh. “are my best friends; to them I owe everything, and I am sorry
they should have come so many miles on my account to be disappointed. It
is not my fault, and I hope they will not blame me for circumstances I
have nothing to do with.” On leaving the ground, and passing the Grange
Farm House, Hudson met with Sampson, when they shook hands together. The
ground was soon cleared, and the company was off. Hudson returned to
London in a post-chaise and four, and arrived about two o’clock in the
morning. Sampson also moved for the metropolis with the utmost speed.
The sporting houses were filled with company, and every one out of
humour at having travelled nearly a hundred miles to be laughed at for
his pains.
By the advice of his best friends, and in consequence of his
constitutional tendency to corpulency, which resisted the effects of
ordinary training, Josh. now took leave of the P. R. in an address at
the Tennis Court. His next step was to “commit the crime the clargy call
matrimony,” with the complicity of a very amiable and respectable young
woman, who quickly developed into the agreeable hostess of the Half Moon
Tap, in Leadenhall Market, where “Jolly Josh.,” brimful of fun and
facetiousness, held his opening dinner on the 23rd of January, 1825.
Josh., though he retired from activity as a principal, kept up his ring
connection, and was foremost not only in backing and match-making on
behalf of the East-enders as in rivalry with the Corinthians of the
West, but never spared himself in the anxious and often laborious duties
of seconding any man worthy of his care and patronage, or of setting-to
for his benefit, as may be seen in these pages on many occasions. A
paragraph which we find in a newspaper of this period may show that
Josh.’s “right hand” had not “lost its cunning” by reason of
bar-practice, and also throws a side-light on our hero’s manly readiness
to champion the defenceless.
“GALLANTRY.—As Hudson, the well-known pugilist, was passing along
Ratcliff Highway, a clumsy coalheaver elbowed a pregnant woman off the
pavement into the road. The feelings of Josh. were roused at this
unmanly conduct, and he remonstrated pretty forcibly with Coaly for his
bad behaviour. The reply he got was a cut from a trouncing whip. This
was too much. Without further ceremony Josh. judged his distance and
gave Coaly such a pile-driver that he went down on the stones as if he
had been shot. It was a minute or two before he recovered, and then,
declining to get up for ‘another round,’ Josh.’s name being upon every
one’s tongue, the humbled bully sneaked into a public-house to talk the
matter over with his brethren of the sack.”—_Sunday Monitor_, July,
1825.
Among Josh.’s generous qualities were his grateful remembrance of past
services and favours and his firm adherence to a friend in adversity. Of
this there is extant an instance so creditable to both parties
concerned, that we cannot forbear its repetition.
An old friend of Josh.’s early days having, by reverse of fortune, by no
means unfrequent among sporting men, fallen into a difficulty which
called upon him for the immediate payment of some £50, applied, in his
extremity, to mine host of “the Half Moon.” Josh., who had not the cash
by him, was sadly annoyed at the idea of being compelled to refuse such
an application from one from whom he had received favours. A sudden
thought struck him. There was his “Cup,” lying snug in its case in his
iron safe. On that he could raise a temporary loan, and nobody the
wiser. Desiring his friend to make himself at home while he went for
“the mopusses,” Josh. possessed himself of the piece of plate, hurried
out at the side-door, and after a sharp toddle presented himself,
blowing like a grampus, in one of the small boxes of a neighbouring
“Uncle” in Bishopsgate Street. Josh. was not only a well-known public
character, but it so happened that “mine Uncle” was an admirer of the
“noble art.” Josh. unlocked his box, and drew forth his well-earned
trophy. The assistant eyed him with some curiosity.
“How much?”
“Forty pounds!” gasped Jolly Josh. not yet recovered from his run.
The assistant stepped into his employer’s sanctum, who instantly
returned with the shining pledge in his hands.
A brief colloquy explained the position of affairs. Josh. wanted forty
pounds.
“Mine Uncle” proceeded to his desk, but not to make out the “ticket”
required by law. He merely wrote an acknowledgment, to be signed by
Josh., that he had received a loan of forty pounds. This “mine Uncle”
presented to him for signature. Josh. was overwhelmed.
“No, no,” said mine Uncle! “Take back your Cup, Josh., you must not be
without it. Pay me, as I know you will, as soon as you are able. I’ll
not have _that_ piece of _wedge_ go to sale anyhow.”
Josh returned to the Half Moon with both money and cup; discharged the
duty of friendship, and the pawnbroker lost nothing by his confidence.
We must preserve the name of the generous pawnbroker (strange coupling
of epithets!), it was Folkard, and the assistant was the youth who, in
after years, was the well-known Renton Nicholson, of newspaper and
“Town” celebrity, from whose lips we have often heard this little
episode of “John Bull and his Uncle.”
“Mine host in the market, a prime jolly fellow,
As rough and as ready as here and there one;
In his lush-crib when seated, good-humoured and mellow,
Looks very like Bacchus astride of his tun.
But more to advantage, with Davy beside him,
This John Bull, the picture of frolic appears,
Discoursing on battles, which those who have tried him
Confess to have rung a full peal in their ears.”
In 1827, Mrs. Hudson presented, as a second offering, a son and heir,
which occasion the friends and admirers of the father celebrated by a
festival on Christmas Day, whereat a silver cup was presented to the
young “John Bull,” inscribed: “The gift of a few friends to Josh.
Hudson, junior, born February 28th, 1827, within the sound of Bow
Bells.”
The free life of a publican, with one who certainly had no inclination
to check free living, was not long in telling its tale. Josh. was now
visited with increasing frequency by gout and its too common sequel,
dropsy, and died at the age of thirty-eight, on the 8th of October,
1835, at the Flying Horse, in Milton Street, Finsbury.
[Illustration]