succession, the first time that Litt and William Richardson met to wrestle
the match at Workington, which never came off. He also threw John Long in
Westmorland, and won. In speaking of Roan Long, Mackereth used to say his
own hand was like a child's hand, compared to that of the giant's.
A common saying of his was, that he "was nobbut a thurteen steàn man."
To this Tom Nicholson generally retorted by saying, "_I_ niver kent the',
Will, when thoo was thurteen steàn!" Tom called him fourteen stones,
good weight.
Mackereth was brought up to the building trade, and ultimately became
keeper of the gaol at Cockermouth for many years. He had an only daughter,
who married and settled in Ireland, in which country he died about the year
1859.
HARRY GRAHAM
OF BRIGHAM.
Harry Graham was a clogger by trade, at Brigham, a pleasant but irregularly
built village, whose square church tower catches the eye of the passing
tourist between Cockermouth and Workington. Born and bred in the heart of a
district which has produced many noted wrestlers, and practising the art
from boyhood, Graham possessed rare abilities as an athlete; but was either
too indifferent, or else of too petulant a disposition, to take his chance
in the ring, like his compeers.
The most famous victory gained by Graham--and we know of no other of any
moment--was the one over Tom Nicholson, in 1811, which goes far to prove
him to have been, for his inches and weight, one of the best men West
Cumberland has produced. Litt speaks of his having wrestled more matches
than any man in the county, but fails to single out any others, wherein
Graham was the conqueror, than the two mentioned in this brief notice.
Harry attended the annual meeting at Carlisle, in 1811, for the first and
last time, and competed for the head prize. In the first round, he threw
one Thomas Hoodless, said by Litt to be "of some celebrity," but long since
forgotten; and in the second round, he came against John Jordan of Great
Salkeld, waller,[10] and fairly won the fall, without even going down. For
some cause or other, the umpires decided it a dog-fall; and on taking hold
a second time, Jordan won. This exasperated Harry's friends, who felt
confident his rare science, quickness, and activity, rendered him a match
for any man existing.
Be this as it may, a match was struck up with Tom Nicholson--the taller man
by three inches--who backed himself for three pounds to two, the best of
five falls. Harry lost the first and second. This made Tom's supporters
cock-sure of winning the match. The third was disputable, and decided a
dog-fall, although a great majority of the spectators insisted Harry won.
The fourth and fifth he gained cleverly. They were then equal, with the
dog-fall in dispute. After some squabbling, they began again afresh; and
Harry won the match by scoring first, third, and fourth falls.
Graham's match with William Richardson--which he won, and which Litt sets
forth as one of some importance--was merely the result of a drunken spree
at Cockermouth. It took place in a garden belonging to the Old Buck inn.
Among the handful of people who witnessed the scene, was John Murgatroyd,
at that time a growing youth interested in the sport.
Harry left the locality of his native hills in 1822, and settled in
Liverpool, where he brought up a family in a manner which reflected much
credit upon himself. When more than sixty years old, he took a voyage to
Australia, to join his eldest son, a graduate of Dublin university, who was
following the scholastic profession, with a considerable amount of success,
at the antipodes.
Graham died in November, 1878, at the venerable age of eighty-eight, and
was buried in Shooter's-hill cemetery, near London.
FOOTNOTES:
[10] Litt speaks unguardedly when he calls Jordan "a noted wrestler from
the Penrith side," as there was nothing worthy of note about any of his
performances in the ring. Nature had endowed him with a considerable amount
of strength, but being almost destitute of science, he had only one mode of
dealing with opponents, and that was "just to tew them doon!" One who knew
him well, described him as "a greit rammin' sixteen-steàn man, creùk't
back't, an' varra fond o' fishin'!"
JAMES SCOTT
OF CANONBIE.
Noo, Jamie Scott o' Cannobie,
He hied to Carel toon;
And mony a borderer cam to see
The English lads thrawn doon.
_Border Ballad._
James Scott was the lightest man who won the head prize in the Carlisle
ring about his own time; and what is much more curious, the only Scotchman
who ever accomplished the same feat. Indeed, it seems up to Scott's time,
and since, too, that the borderers on the Scotch side did not take as much
pleasure in the pastime as those dwelling on the English side.
Scott was born and brought up at Oarnlee, in the picturesque parish of
Canonbie, in Dumfriesshire, within a few miles distance from the roofless
tower of Gilnockie, the ancient stronghold of the noted border free-booter,
Johnny Armstrong, of whose tragic fate in the presence of the Scottish
king, the old minstrel thus sings:--
But then rose up all Edenborough,
They rose up by thousands three;
A cowardly Scot came John behind,
And run him through the fair bodye.
Said John, "Fight on my merry men all,
I am a little wounded, but not slain;
I will lay me down to bleed a while,
Then I'll rise, and fight with you again."
James Scott stood about five feet nine inches high, and weighed between
eleven and twelve stones. Litt surmises that he was more than thirteen
stones; but according to the most reliable authorities, this is much beyond
the mark. He was a "tight built, streight, beàny mak' iv a fellow, withoot
a particle o' lowse flesh aboot him." In the ring, he became noted as a
quick striker, and bore the reputation of being a good scientific wrestler.
He never went much from home to contend, and, excepting in the Carlisle
ring, is only known to have wrestled at the village gatherings, along the
borders. He does not figure among the thirty-two men, who wrestled at the
first annual meeting at Carlisle, in 1809. In the following year, when
double that number contended, we think it hardly likely that he put in an
appearance; but on this point we cannot speak with any amount of
confidence, as there is no list of names known to be in existence.
In 1811, however, he did good service in the Carlisle ring, by throwing
Joseph Wilson, John Hall, Joseph Coates, and William Richardson of
Caldbeck; but sustained defeat at the hands of John Earl of Cumwhitton, in
the fifth round. For the second prize of the same year, he was cleverly
thrown by George Little of Sebergham, (and not again by John Earl, as
stated by Litt.)
At the Carlisle meeting held on Tuesday, the 20th day of September, 1812,
the favourite north-country pastime attracted an immense gathering of
spectators to the Swifts. Although the prizes offered amounted in all to
the handsome sum of twenty guineas, there was a noticeable falling off in
the attendance of wrestlers. Only forty-eight names were entered for the
principal competition--the most noteworthy absentees being Tom Nicholson,
(who was suffering from an accident at the Greystoke festival,) John Earl
of Cumwhitton, Robert Rowantree of Bewcastle, and Harry Graham of Brigham.
Scott, who was then in his twenty-fourth year, turned up on the Swifts "i'
grand fettle," and wrestled through the ring with much spirit, tact, and
determination. The unexpected fall of William Mackereth of Cockermouth, the
first time over, removed at least one formidable rival. John Jordan of
Great Salkeld, falling in one of the subsequent rounds, left the coast as
good as clear to Scott and Richardson, who ultimately came together in the
final fall. Although wanting in the height, weight, and experience
possessed by his veteran opponent, the wiry borderer had the advantage of
youthful suppleness and activity on his side.
A good deal of time was wasted by the combatants; both tenaciously
endeavouring to obtain the better hold. Meanwhile a tall, red-haired,
gaunt-looking Scotchman, made himself somewhat officious and troublesome to
the umpires, by running to and fro into the ring, "wi' a wee drap whuskey,
an' a hantle o' advice," in order to cheer up the spirits of the Canonbie
lad. When holds had been obtained, after acting on the defensive for some
time with much wariness, Scott managed to catch Richardson's heel, and by
this means succeeded in carrying him off precisely in the same manner as he
had done the preceding year. No sooner had the burly figure of the Caldbeck
man kissed the green-sward, than the air resounded again and again with
lusty cheers for the Canonbie hero.
Everybody seemed astonished when "lal Jamie Scott" fought his way
through the ring; and probably no one was more astonished than himself.
With eight bright guineas in his pocket, he received a hearty welcome on
going back again, from all the "weel kent" faces he passed on his
"hameward" journey to "Canobie lea."
Having gained first honours, Jamie inherited too much of the "canny" and
prudent disposition of his countrymen, to risk tarnishing the victory which
had thus fallen under somewhat favourable circumstances to his share. The
Carlisle ring of 1812 was, we believe, the last one in which he contended
for a prize.
Scott was a joiner by trade, and worked for several years at "Kirkcammeck,"
(Kirkambeck,) in Stapleton, on the English side of the border. At the
local gatherings in after years, he made a point of backing David Potts of
Haining--a rather tricky customer--against John Blair of Solport Mill.
Scott recommended Potts to rosin the inside of his pockets well, and rub
his hands in them before taking hold of an opponent. "And than," said he,
bestowing a hearty thump on his pupil's back, "no a man i' Cummerland need
thraw the', if thou nobbut fews onything like!"
His cheerful and jocular disposition led him to be widely known on both
sides of the border as "Canobie Jamie." He was specially fond of rural and
field sports. In speed of foot he surpassed most of his companions. Many
stories are told of the practical jokes and harmless tricks he used to play
off on his neighbours and acquaintances; a few examples of which we may
perhaps be allowed to relate as illustrative of his character.
"Canobie Jock," a well known voluble neighbour of his, partial to keeping
up a breed of terriers and foxhounds of the right sort, had one of the
former which he boasted was the fleetest dog of its kind in the parish. For
a trifling wager, Jamie offered to run a race with Jock's terrier. The
distance chosen was from one end of a good sized field to the other,
through part of which a broad deep ditch extended, and had to be crossed.
After starting, our hero found there existed every likelihood of his canine
competitor leaving him some distance behind. This induced him to hasten
towards that part of the field where lay the deep ditch. With a single
bound he cleared the distance in capital style. Meanwhile, before the poor
terrier had time to swim the water, climb the banks, and shake itself,
Jamie had got so far ahead as to be able to win easily--which he did, much
to the discomfiture of the owner of the dog.
As an additional illustration of his nimbleness of foot, it may be
mentioned that on another occasion, in coming "owre the hills frae Hawick,"
he ran down a cub fox, which he took home with him to Canonbie, and kept
there in a tame state, until it became so troublesome and destructive among
the hen-roosts of the neighbourhood, that he was obliged to put it down.
Jamie, and a cousin of his, were once invited to a wedding in the
neighbourhood of Liddesdale, and, as it chanced, they could only muster a
single horse between them. Under these circumstances, Scott thought it
might be as well to give the natives of "Copshaw-holme," (Newcastleton,)
something to amuse themselves with. Accordingly, he placed his cousin on
the front of the horse, in the usual way, while he mounted behind, facing
the opposite direction, with a straw rope drawn round the animal's tail for
a bridle. In this comical fashion, the two men rode through the large open
square of the old border village, amid the laughter and jeers of young and
old.
One other story, and we must take leave of Jamie. When crossing a wild part
of the country, it so happened that through being benighted, he was in
danger of losing his way. Nearing a farm-stead, the pleasing sound of a
fiddle fell on his ears, which ultimately turned out to proceed from an
adjoining barn, where a dancing school was held. On entering, Jamie met
with a warm reception from the people assembled, and enjoyed the scene
before him with much glee. Getting communicative with those around, he
threw out some broadish hints that he thought he could dance a hornpipe or
jig better than the dancing-master himself. To such a belief as this the
teacher entirely demurred; and the difference of opinion thus set forth
paved the way for a friendly contest. Notwithstanding being a good deal
fatigued with travelling, Jamie managed to trip about with so much
gracefulness and agility, that he was acknowledged by all present to have
quite outrivalled the professor of the calisthenic art.
James Scott died at Oarnlee in the year 1854, aged sixty-six years.
ROBERT ROWANTREE,
OF KINGWATER.
Robert Rowantree, the subject of this brief memoir, was one of the big
stalwart athletes of the wrestling ring in the "olden time," when wrestlers
six feet high, and fourteen stones weight, were plentiful amongst the
competitors of the northern arena. Rowantree was not so much distinguished
for science as William Jackson, Richard Chapman, or the Donaldsons of more
recent times; but was formidable from possessing great strength, a long
reaching muscular arm, much supple activity, and no end of endurance in a
keen, protracted struggle with an adversary. Remarkable instances of this
fierce endurance are to this day commented on, particularly in his
memorable bouts with John Richardson of Staffield Hall, "Belted Will" of
Caldbeck, and the celebrated bone-setter, George Dennison.
Rowantree was born in the vale of Kingwater, in the year 1779. The place of
his birth, and where he continued to reside for a long series of years, is
a lonely and sterile region, inhabited chiefly by sheep-farmers, situate
between the green woodland slopes of Gilsland, and the then wild unclaimed
wastes of Bewcastle; and was doubtless in the long ago border marauding
times the scene of many a bloody raid; and later, too, of many smuggling
affrays in getting across the border untaxed whiskey. Maitland's
_Complaint_ gives a vivid description of the lawlessness prevalent:--
That nane may keip
Horse, nolt, nor sheip,
Nor yet dar sleip,
For thair mischeifis.
"The lordly halls of Triermaine," in the vale of Kingwater, supplied the
title to one of Sir Walter Scott's poems; but the once "lordly halls" are
now reduced to a mere fragment.
Like William Jackson of Kinneyside, Rowantree was brought up a shepherd,
and followed this pastoral occupation, with scarcely a break in the chain,
throughout an extraordinarily prolonged life. He stood fully six feet one
inch, his general wrestling weight being fourteen stones. "A lang-feàc't,
strang, big-limb't man, carryin' varra lile flesh on his beàns," was the
description given of Rowantree by a brother athlete, who, like himself, had
carried off the head prize once from the Carlisle ring.
Litt speaks of him as attached to loose holds, and as being an extremely
awkward customer to get at. It cannot be said that he was a quick, good,
scientific wrestler, being too strong limbed and heavily built throughout,
for excelling in these requisites. Nevertheless, he had tremendous powers
when he could get them set agoing in full swing. His famous cross-buttocks
in the Carlisle and other rings, which made men fly upwards, like a bull
tossing dogs, are spoken of to this day. When young, like many another,
Rowantree was such an enthusiastic follower of the wrestling ring, that he
frequently went on foot twenty miles to wrestle in the evening for a common
leather belt, not worth eighteen pence.
He won his first prize at "Mumps Ha'," Gilsland, at that time a noted hedge
ale-house, whereat border farmers--most of them nothing loth to spend a
jovial hour or two when happening to meet a neighbour--used to stop and
refresh themselves with a "pint" or two, and enjoy a "good crack." The
hostelry was at that time kept by a daughter of old Margaret Teasdale,
immortalized as "Mumps Meg," in Sir Walter Scott's _Guy Mannering_.
Rowantree afterwards attended some sports at Stanners Burn, in North Tyne;
and in the final wrestle up, he came against an exceedingly powerful man,
named William Ward, a rustic Titan, with a grip like a giant, resident in
the neighbourhood. In the previous rounds the stranger from Kingwater had
astonished the North Tyners, by disposing of his men without the least
difficulty. In the last round, Ward lifted Rowantree clean off his feet,
and caused much amusement among the spectators by crying out, whilst
holding him in that position: "Hey, lads! See! I can haud him, noo!" No
sooner, however, did Rowantree set foot on _terra firma_, than in an
instant the position of the two men was reversed, a sweeping cross-buttock
sending Ward's feet "fleein' i' the air," amid loud plaudits--the loser
being sadly crestfallen by this unexpected turn of the wheel.
As a general rule, Rowantree did not go far from home to attend wrestling
meetings; his principal ground being along the wild tract of Cumberland
lying to the north-east of Carlisle. Occasionally, however, he strolled
away from Kingwater and the adjoining country. In the year 1810, he had a
trip "wid Nanny, the priest' son, o' Haltwhistle, ower th' fells," to try
his luck at the noted gathering, known far and wide as "Melmerby Round."
Along with the priest's son--a promising youth in his way for "a bit of a
spree"--he entered his name. The Haltwhistle youth came to grief in one of
the early rounds, being thrown by John Morton of Gamblesby (father to Tom
Morton of the Gale); but Rowantree succeeded in working his way through the
ring, and carrying off the head prize.
We next come to record worse luck, in a match with Thomas Golightly, a
miner, who belonged to the Butts, in Alston town. Rowantree, though a much
heavier and taller man, was overmatched by the 'cute Alstonian, and had to
succumb to him. Golightly--one of a wrestling family--was a thoroughly
all-round, scientific, first-rate wrestler; and though weighing only twelve
stones, and standing five feet nine inches high, gained many head prizes
in the neighbourhood of Alston, Workington, and Whitehaven. The match took
place probably at Alston sports, then held annually on Easter Monday and
Tuesday--on the same days that a two-days main of cocks was fought.
Rowantree attended the first annual wrestling meeting held at Carlisle,
September, 1809, and in the first round he threw Thomas Atkinson; in the
second, one Younghusband, (who in the previous round had thrown John
Rowantree, a brother of Robert.) In the third round, he had to face the
celebrated Thomas Nicholson of Threlkeld. The first was a disputed fall;
but in the second, Tom was easily victorious. At Carlisle, in 1810,
Nicholson again threw him.
Next year, John Richardson of Staffield Hall, near Kirkoswald, gained the
second prize on the Swifts. For the first prize, he came against Rowantree,
and after one of the most desperate and determined struggles ever seen in
any ring, the latter won with a half-buttock, after giving his opponent a
shake off the hip. In all the recorded meetings of athletes in the rings of
the north, it has seldom happened that the spectators had the gratification
of witnessing two men step into the arena, equal in stature and muscular
power to Robert Rowantree and John Richardson. The latter stood six feet
three inches high, and the former six feet one inch. Both weighed upwards
of fourteen stones, and on stripping, presented remarkable specimens of
athletic formation. Armstrong, familiarly known as the "Solid Yak," another
gigantic Cumbrian, was also grassed in the same entry, by Rowantree.
At Carlisle, in 1812, when James Scott, the Canonbie man, won, we do not
find that Rowantree contended. No record is known to exist, giving the
names of those who entered for the prizes, and, therefore, nothing definite
can be stated.
The following extract from the _Carlisle Journal_, will show that the
prize--twenty guineas--given in 1813, was held to be something remarkable
in wrestling annals, and created a wide-spread sensation throughout the
north. At the present day, a considerably larger sum is given; but whether
this profuse liberality has improved the _morale_ of the ring, is a very
doubtful matter.
On Friday, the 8th of October, the great prize of
twenty guineas was wrestled for on the Swifts, in a
roped ring of seventy yards in diameter, in the
presence of the largest concourse of people we ever saw
on a similar occasion. Notwithstanding the day was
extremely wet during the whole of the contest, the
curiosity that had been excited through all ranks of
society, overcame every obstacle; and we were happy to
see on the ground the Duke of Norfolk, the Marquis of
Queensberry, the Earl of Lonsdale, H. Fawcett, Esq.,
M.P., together with a large number of gentlemen from
all parts of the county, and from Scotland, to witness
one of the finest exhibitions of activity, muscle,
science, and resolution, ever seen in the north of
England. The wrestling was of the most superior kind;
many of the combatants having been struck by their
antagonists from the ground upwards of five feet.
Robert Rowantree, the Cumberland shepherd, gained the
first prize, having thrown the noted William Richardson
and George Dennison, in two of the severest struggles
we ever saw. We are happy to add that their peaceable
and civil deportment to each other has been the subject
of much commendation.
On the morning of the wrestling, Rowantree walked from Butterburn, a lone
farm-stead, north-east of Gilsland, and fully twenty miles from Carlisle,
as the crow flies; and then wrestled through an exceedingly strong ring--a
proof of lasting endurance and pluck seldom parallelled. Seventy-two men
entered the ring for the head prize; exactly twenty-four more than in the
previous year. In the first round, Rowantree threw Joseph Richardson; in
the second, James Gibson; in the third, Thomas Gillespie; in the fourth,
William Earl of Cumwhitton; in the fifth, George Dennison of Stainton; and
in the final fall, William Richardson of Caldbeck.
It is somewhat singular that Rowantree, an enthusiastic follower of
wrestling, should not again enter the ring of the Border City, or, indeed,
any other ring, where winning might be considered to confer distinction.
Soon after achieving at Carlisle, the highest distinction a wrestler can
attain, he won his last belt in the same arena where he gained his first
one--at "Mumps Ha'," Gilsland. He got the belt without contesting a single
fall; no one thinking proper to try the chance of a single tussle with him.
Shepherding was his daily pursuit during the greater part of a long life;
and at times he performed some extraordinary feats of pedestrianism. We
regret, however, being unable to give exact data of the time and distances.
They would have been interesting additions to his wrestling career. For
many years he lived on an extensive sheep farm at Wiley Syke, near
Gilsland, with one of his brothers. During the great storm of November,
1807, when the snow drifted in some places to the depth of nine and ten
feet, Rowantree's brother John, lost four-score sheep, and at one time
upwards of two hundred more were missing. A neighbouring shepherd, named
James Coulthard, perished in attempting to fold his sheep in
Scott-Coulthard's Waste.
At one time, Rowantree was tempted to enter the service of the Earl of
Carlisle, as a game-watcher, on the Naworth Castle estates, and continued
to be so occupied "a canny bit."