good man," we must return to Miles Dixon. He was born in the year 1781, at
either "Far" or "Near Sawrey." They form two villages, but are so little
apart that they may both be classed as "Sawrey;" and are situated half-way
between Hawkshead and the Ferry on Windermere. No more beautifully located,
clean, bright looking, secluded villages are to be found in all the Lake
district. The most prominent and interesting view from "Near Sawrey," is
Esthwaite lake; and all around to the south, south-west, and north-west,
there appears a wide extent of richly wooded undulating country. From "Far
Sawrey," there is a view of the lower reaches of Windermere, and a vast
panorama of undulating hill and vale.
Miles's father followed the primitive occupation of a wood-cutter, felling
timber trees and young trees of fifteen or sixteen years growth, called
_coppice wood_, used for making hoops and charcoal. While his sons were
"lile lads," he removed across Windermere to the vale of Troutbeck, and
then in a short time migrated to Grasmere, where he settled.
Miles Dixon's full stature was six feet three inches; and his general
wrestling weight, fifteen-and-a-half stones. His favourite move in the ring
was to lift his opponent from the ground one way, then throw him quickly
back the other--and dispose of him, so to speak, with a twist. His
herculean powers enabled him to do this effectually. He had other tactics
on which to fall back, but occasions very rarely occurred when these had to
be called into action. His quiet habits, and mild enthusiasm for wrestling,
often made him careless. Had he possessed a greater amount of ambition, and
followed the wrestling ring more closely, we should undoubtedly have had to
record a much more numerous list of achievements. Professor Wilson hits off
some of his leading characteristics very happily when he says: "Honest and
worthy Miles, if put into good heart and stomach, and upon his own
dunghill, was, in our humble opinion, a match for any cock in Cumberland."
Young Dixon won his first belt at Grasmere, when only about sixteen years
old. John Fletcher, the village carrier, a powerful sixteen-stone man,
wrestled second. It so happened the carrier was very ambitious of winning
first honours, and feeling sorely disappointed at being thus checkmated by
a beardless boy, tore the waistcoat off his opponent's back, in a passion,
and for a long time bore the victor a grudge.
During one of the militia meetings at Kendal, a good deal of "braggin'"
took place respecting the wrestling abilities of one Harrison, a man who
stood six feet high, and weighed fully fifteen stones. Miles Dixon was
pressed to take Harrison's challenge up, but gave his friends no
encouragement that he would do so, and seemed to be very careless and
indifferent about the matter. Ned Wilson and William Mackereth at length
backed Dixon, the best of three falls, for a guinea, being all the money
they could muster between them. Harrison in the match lost the two first
falls easily, and was so chagrined at the defeat, that he absented himself
from drill for several days.
At the Windermere gathering, held at Waterhead, near Ambleside, in 1810,
there was a considerable amount of rivalry displayed as to whether the belt
should stay in Westmorland, or go to Cumberland. John Wilson, the young
squire of Elleray, then fresh from Oxford, was the principal getter up of
the sports. He was all enthusiasm, and heartily backed Westmorland. In
Miles Dixon's absence the previous year, Tom Nicholson had carried off the
first prize. He now returned again, to do all that lay in his power to be
the winner a second time, bringing with him his brother John, and Joseph
Slack from Blencow. William Litt came over Hardknot and Wrynose, from West
Cumberland, riding on a good horse, and wearing a pair of high top boots.
He called at Skelwith-bridge for refreshment, and stayed there all night,
previous to the meeting. Getting a little "fresh" at the snug hostelry, as
the hours went on, he began to be communicative about the morrow's
proceedings, and laid down the law with great precision. According to his
theory, Tom Nicholson would be first, and "yan Litt" second: of this there
could be no doubt whatever. "Nay, nay," said mine host, not then knowing
who the traveller was, "Nay, nay, I think nit! Theear' some Dixons o'
Gersmer'--meàst sowan good 'ans--'ill be to fell first!" An old miller
"com' ower t' Raise,"[9] in the rear of the Cumberland men, on purpose to
bet, and rifle the pockets of the Westmorland lads. Tom King, owner of The
Hollins, in Grasmere, annoyed at the never ceasing din made by the miller,
said to Dixon: "Miley, if thoo's gaen to du' thy best, noo, I'll away
an' tak' yon ald fule up." He forthwith went and bet guinea after
guinea, until the miller began to think it prudent to venture no further.
Early on, Miles threw a Yorkshire waller, named Harrison, a heavy man, and
a good wrestler. He was afterwards called out against William Litt, with
whom he had a hard tug. The excitement was extreme. Curiously enough, the
two men started with the same tactics. "Te'àn triet to lift, an' tudder
triet to lift," and both being heavy men, the exertion became very irksome
work. The result was that Litt was thrown "lang streàk't" on his back,
amid deafening cheers. Like many men who are losers, Litt complained in
_Wrestliana_ of "unfair play," and brings half-a-dozen excuses forward as
the reasons why he lost the fall. In the case of Miles Dixon and Litt
having had another fall, Professor Wilson says: "Whether Mr. Litt could or
could not have thrown Miles, can never be positively known in this world."
The final fall, between Dixon and Tom Nicholson, was not of long duration.
No sooner were they in holds, than the former lifted his opponent clearly
from the ground, and disposed of him easily with a twist. The belt was then
handed to Miles Dixon, by Mr. Wilson, who complimented him warmly on the
victory he had gained. The future Professor of Moral Philosophy took the
belt to Edinburgh with him. After the lapse of a couple of years, it was
returned to the winner, with the following inscription engraved on a silver
plate: "Won by Miles Dixon, at a Grand Wrestling Match, between the
Westmorland, Lancashire, and Cumberland Lads, 1810." The belt is still in
the possession of the family at Grasmere. It is made of leather, about two
inches broad, and mounted with silver buckle and inscription plate.
In 1811, Dixon did not wrestle at Ambleside. In 1812, when thirty-one years
old, he put in an appearance again, and virtually carried off the first
prize. Litt says, "Miles Dixon and a butcher in Ambleside were the two last
standers. They agreed to wrestle two or three falls for the gratification
of the gentlemen who had subscribed towards the wrestling, and in this
friendly trial Miles Dixon was victorious."
Miles died in June, 1843, aged sixty-two years. A headstone in Grasmere
churchyard bears the following testimony to his worth: "The uniform
integrity of his conduct, has induced one who appreciated his worth, to
erect this memorial."
His widow--a thrifty, sensible, managing housewife--died in 1875, aged
ninety-one years. Wrestling meetings, and similar gatherings, she treated
with marked contempt. A frequent saying of hers, about her husband as a
wrestler, was: "Ivery shillin' he wan, cost us two!" She used to compare
those who took part in such exercises to "a lot of potters an' tinklers,
'at dud nowte but nip an' squeeze yan anudder to deeàth!"
JAMES DIXON, brother to Miles, was born at the before-mentioned village of
Sawrey. He died at Beck Houses, Grasmere, in 1866, aged seventy-eight
years. In height, he stood six feet three inches, and his general wrestling
weight was fourteen stones. His favourite chip in the ring was an outside
stroke.
When young, he wrestled at a gathering of militia at Kendal, and won. In
1809, at the Ambleside meeting, he came against Tom Nicholson of Threlkeld,
in one of the latter rounds. According to the most reliable information we
have been able to gather, the latter lost fairly enough, but owing to some
oversight on the part of the umpires, they decided it must be a wrestle
over, to which course of procedure Dixon naturally objected.
In 1811, he won the head prize at the Ferry Inn wrestling, Windermere.
Richard Luther Watson, of Calgarth, a son of the Bishop of Llandaff,
officiated as steward. In addition to the wrestling, which commenced early
in the afternoon, there was a regatta on the lake, and prizes were given
also for leaping and running. The belt won at the Ferry is still kept, in a
good state of preservation, at Grasmere. It is made of leather, about four
feet six inches in length, by two inches in breadth, with a silver buckle,
and inscription plate: "Presented by the Steward of the Windermere Regatta,
to the conqueror at the Grand Wrestling Match, on the 17th July, 1811."
At one of the Windermere gatherings, with Miles and James Dixon both
thrown, a general buzz ran round the ring that Roan Long was sure to be the
final victor. Just at the moment when this opinion was prevalent, George
Dixon, an elder brother, very bow-legged, stepped into the ring,
exclaiming, "Tak' time, lads; tak' time! Aw t' Dixons errant doon yet!"
Coming as a counter-blast to the prevailing opinion, this saying created
much merriment among the spectators. Surely enough, the current of the tide
which had set so strongly against the Dixons, was turned, for Roan was
cleverly thrown. George was a stiff stander, difficult to get at, and often
very bad to move.
Besides prizes incidentally mentioned in this narrative, the three brothers
won many others, records of which, it is to be feared, have passed away
with the contemporary generation who witnessed and took part in them.
The Dixons were wallers by profession, and many of the bridges in the
immediate vicinity of the lake country were built by them. One notable fact
relating to their bridge-building is worth mentioning. About the year 1828,
Muncaster bridge, over the river Esk, near Ravenglass, was built by some
one whose name has not been recorded. The bridge had a considerable span,
and a high tide, and a furious mountain torrent pouring down out of
Eskdale, washed it away. Another man then undertook the rebuilding of it,
but failed to carry out the details, and finally gave up in despair. Lord
Muncaster being disgusted with the unsuccessful attempts, and hearing of
the celebrity of the Dixons, sent to Grasmere for them. The three brothers
set about the work in good earnest, and in the month of June, 1829, the
keystone of the bridge was fixed, with considerable ceremony. A handsome
sum of money was collected, for a day's festivity and sports, and the
Dixons gave two barrels of ale. The prize for wrestling fell to one William
Dickinson of Langley Park, a farm on the Bootle side of the bridge. The
foot-race and leaping were both carried off by a young man from Eskdale,
named William Vickers.
Lord Muncaster was so well pleased with the skill and persevering industry
displayed by the builders, that he caused the following inscription--which
remains to this day--to be placed on the east side of the bridge:
MDCCCXXIX.
THIS BRIDGE BUILT BY MEN FROM GRASMERE.
Commercially speaking, Muncaster bridge was an advantageous affair for the
Dixons. The successful accomplishment of the work spread their fame as
builders far and wide, and assisted materially towards establishing them
nicely in the world. Miles and James became purchasers of estates, through
industrious and economic habits.
We have heard it stated that Lady Richardson of Lancrigg--the wife of the
arctic explorer--once contemplated writing an account of Miles and James
Dixon (who, by the way, are both mentioned in the interesting memoir of her
mother, MRS. FLETCHER). How she intended treating the subject-matter of
their lives, we cannot tell; probably more in their domestic relations to
the people of Grasmere vale, than as athletes in the wrestling ring.
* * * * *
After John Barrow and the Dixons, it is somewhat singular and remarkable to
note the large number of first-rate lake-side wrestlers that came out; and
it may not be amiss to bestow a passing notice on the foremost. Before the
Dixons had retired, the two Longs--Rowland, commonly called Roan, and
John--the one a giant in size and strength, and the other a big burly
man--figured in the ring; then--most renowned in the galaxy--William Wilson
of Ambleside. He appeared all over the beau ideal of a heavy weight
wrestler; "lish as a cat," straight as a wand, good shoulders, and long
arms. When about his best, there had never before been seen such a
consummate master of the hype; and no one since can claim to be his equal.
His action was so quick and irresistible, that his opponents went down as
if completely helpless. In 1822, William Richardson of Caldbeck, a most
successful hyper, had not "the shadow of a chance" with Wilson; he also
struck down the gigantic Mc.Laughlan of Dovenby, in such a style as "no
other man in the kingdom could have done." In appearance he resembled
William Jackson of Kinneyside, with the same gentlemanly conduct in the
ring, and the same good tempered bearing to his opponents. Unfortunately,
this bright particular star became subject to a wasting disease when hardly
at his best, and was soon lost to the wrestling world, and a large circle
of admiring friends.
Then followed Tom Robinson, the schoolmaster, Richard Chapman, George
Donaldson, Joseph Ewbank, a Haweswater lake sider; William Jackson, an
Ennerdale lake sider; and Thomas Longmire--men whose names and deeds will
be cherished as long as "wruslin'" is a household word in the north. These
have all gone hence, or are "in the downhill of life." At present there is
not one man of note on the immediate borders of Windermere, Ullswater, or
Derwentwater.
FOOTNOTES:
[9] Dunmail Raise, which divides Cumberland and Westmorland.
ROWLAND AND JOHN LONG
OF AMBLESIDE.
Rowland Long, generally called "Roan," may be considered one of the biggest
of our northern athletes, but by no means one of the most distinguished for
science and activity--an immense, but somewhat inert, mass of humanity. He
was born and brought up at Graythwaite, a beautiful country of woodland
slopes and green dells, laying contiguous to the west side of lake
Windermere, in North Lancashire. The father of John and Rowland, farmed a
small estate of land under the ancient family of Sandys of Graythwaite
Hall.
Rowland was born about the year 1778. While even a lad, he developed into
gigantic proportions of body, limbs, and bone. When only seventeen years
old, he weighed seventeen stones, and was looked on at that time as a
wonder by all the country side, for size and strength. On arriving at
maturity, his full stature reached six feet two inches, and he weighed
never less than eighteen stones. In truth, a man of colossal appearance,
looking "as breeàd as a yak tree across t' shooders," as big limbed and
heavy footed as Goliah of Gath, and with a grip like the hug of a polar
bear. His principal move in the ring was to make a rush at his adversary,
push him backward, and throw in the "ham"; then, if well got in, woe to the
unlucky wight who felt the crushing weight of eighteen or nineteen stones.
From a well known deficiency in points of science and activity, it may
naturally be conjectured that most of his achievements were gained by main
strength, on one hand, and stubborn standing on the other.
In one sense, Roan Long's career is the most perplexing one with which we
have to deal. The fact is pretty well established, that he won no less than
ninety-nine belts; and at various places he tried hard to make the number
up to an even hundred, but laboured in vain. The perplexing point
is--where, and at what dates, did he win those belts? We may take it for
granted that the field of his operations was confined principally to
Windermere and its neighbourhood; and that his successful career as a
wrestler commenced about the year 1796, and ended in 1812. Most of the
details during those sixteen years are, unfortunately, not forthcoming.
We learn incidentally that he "yance hed a ter'ble hard day's russlin' at
Bouth fair, whar he fell't three or fower o' t' biggest chaps he iver
fell't in his life." Probably this was the time he had the fearful tug with
Arthur Burns, one of the Ullater family, near Rusland. Burns stripped off
a tall, active, well built, six-foot man, who stuck to the giant most
determinedly, and tried hard to get him to make play without effect, until
the struggle became one of mere animal strength. The upshot was that Burns
came to grief, and unluckily came out of the ring so much mauled about the
ribs, that he never recovered fully from the punishment inflicted.
At one of the village gatherings, held at Grasmere, Tom Ashburner, a
"statesman" of the valley, entered his name among the wrestlers for the
sole purpose of trying a round with Roan. Being fortunate enough to be
called against him, and having succeeded in getting the fall, he retired
from further contest, saying as he did so, to the younger hands: "Noo,
lads, I've clear'd t' rooad for yee: work yer way!"
In 1811, Roan, then about thirty-three years old, attended the third annual
meeting held at Carlisle, but was singularly unfortunate. He was thrown in
the first round, by John Watson, who the next time over laid down to Tom
Nicholson.
At the Windermere Regatta, held at the Ferry hotel, in July, 1812, he won
his ninety-ninth and last belt. Previously he had won several belts at the
same place. No part of this final trophy is left, but the inscription
plate--in the possession of Mr. Backhouse, farmer, near Low Wood--which
runs: "To the Hero of the Regatta, on Windermere, 1812."
After this date, we obtain passing glimpses of Roan entering various
rings, and trying in vain to make up the hundredth prize. In 1824, the old
veteran--having then contended more or less for twenty-eight years--was
thrown at Low Wood Regatta, by one Hodgson, who wrestled third; and even as
late as 1828, he wrestled at Ambleside fair, where he was disposed of by
John Holmes, a tall six-foot tailor. This proved the last time he ever
contended for a prize--saying, as he bade farewell to the ring, "I think
it's time to give ower, noo, when a bit iv a tailyer can thra' me!"
Roan's match with William Richardson of Caldbeck will be found described in
the sketch of Richardson's career.
Many years elapse, and Roan is sitting among the onlookers of the
wrestling, at Ambleside sports. After Longmire had carried off several big
men with the swinging hype--eliciting the admiration of all beholders--old
Roan said to the young aspirant, in a drawling tone of voice: "Thoo cudn't
ha' trailed me by t' neck i' that way, my lad!"
If Roan Long was deficient in science and activity, and did not cut the
brilliant figure in the wrestling ring that some of his contemporaries did,
he, nevertheless, habitually maintained through a long span of existence,
many points of much greater importance, in a social view--such, for
example, as plodding perseverance, singleness of purpose, and sturdy
independence of character--traits in themselves truly commendable, and far
above any merely nominal honours which the wrestling arena could bestow.
Roan's occupation was that of a wood-cutter and wood-monger. In company
with the Robinsons of Cunsey--two brothers--he worked in the woods around
Windermere, for many years. Robert Robinson, one of the brothers, was a
very powerful man, nearly six feet high, with broad massive shoulders, and
herculean thighs. During the height of the wood-cutting season, these men
toiled and wrought from daybreak to dusk, more like galley slaves than
free-born Englishmen; often continuing their laborious employment half
through moonlight nights. On certain occasions, when arriving at the woods
before daybreak, they have been known to sit down and eat their dinners
"while they'd time," as they phrased it, in order to keep themselves "frae
hankerin' efter 't throo t' day." With coat, waistcoat, and shirt off, Roan
used frequently to yoke himself in a cart, heavily laden with wood, and had
to "snig" like a horse, while the two Robinsons placed themselves behind
the cart, and regulated their motions according to the necessity of the
case.
One time, in Finsthwaite woods, when going down a steep hill, so "brant"
that horses were practically useless, the Robinsons let go the cart for
nothing else but pure devilment, and off went Roan, taking giant-like
strides, until he could hold on no longer; and was obliged to throw the
cart over into the steep incline below, and extricate himself as best he
could. After having been a considerable time in partnership, he began to
think the Robinsons were not doing the clean thing by him, in some other
matters, and in consequence dissolved all connexion with them.
Later on, Roan--who through life was a pattern of industry and
integrity--kept a nursery and vegetable garden at Ambleside. While so
occupied, it was his wont to overlook operations from a small wooden house
in the garden, where he sat as closely wedged up almost as a veritable Gog
or Magog.
A few days before his death, he sent for his neighbour, John Cowerd, a
joiner by trade, to give him instructions about the making of his coffin.
"Noo, John," said he, "I s' nit be lang here, I Kna' I shallant; an' I
want to speeàk to yee about my coffin. Mak' me a good heart o' yak yan, an'
_nowt but yak_. Noo, mind what I's sayin'; I want nin o' yer deeàl-bottom't
sooart--_nin o' yer deeàl-bottom't sooart for me!_" repeated the dying man
again and again. Many coffins had been made in the same shop, but never one
anything like Roan's for size. It measured two feet three inches across the
breast, inside measure. A custom prevailed in the workshop to try most of
the coffins made, by the length of some workman. On this occasion, one
Michael Rawlinson, the biggest man employed, was press-ganged into Roan's
coffin, but scarcely half-filled it, and presented a very ludicrous picture
for the time being.
Roan's death took place at Ambleside, about the year 1852; aged
seventy-four years.
* * * * *
John Long, born also at Graythwaite in Furness Fells, about the year 1780,
formed in many respects a marked contrast to his brother Roan, and was
considered by good judges to be much the better wrestler of the two. In
height, he stood five feet ten inches, and weighed about fourteen stones.
In his prime, he was a remarkably fine built man: firm, compact, and well
developed in every part, with clean action; in fact, from head to foot he
might be said to be symmetry typified.
John had the credit of winning many prizes on the banks of his native
Windermere; but not having the ambition of his brother for wrestling
distinction, he never rambled far from home in search of adventure; nor did
he follow the sport for anything like the same lengthened period. We are
sorry that no available and reliable means can be come at touching his
feats in the ring. His well known accomplishments as a wrestler richly
entitle him to a more extended notice than it is in our power to give.
At the Ambleside wrestling, in 1811, John Long was second to William
Mackereth, the winner, a young man from Cockermouth, a friend and companion
of Tom Nicholson. Nicholson had grassed the well known John Lowden of
Keswick, but suffered a grievous defeat in the fourth round when he met
John Long. This of itself must be considered sufficient to stamp the victor
a wrestler of considerable ability, as Tom was then at his best, and was
looked upon by his admirers as a match for any man in the kingdom.
In early life, John followed wood-cutting through the spring and winter
months; and in autumn, he generally went off to the "shearings" in Low
Furness and West Cumberland. For a lengthened period he was chief boatman
at the Ferry inn, Windermere, in which capacity he is well remembered. When
up in years, he displayed a good deal of ready wit and droll humour. He has
been spoken of--by the most successful wrestler that Windermere has
produced--as "a queer sly ald dog, 'at nin o' t' young 'ans cud reetly
mak' oot, whedder he was in fun or earnest."