where he played a conspicuous part. Meeting with no one particularly worthy
of being called a dangerous competitor in the first five rounds, he went
through with considerable ease, throwing in rotation, James Johnson, R.
Armstrong, J. Scott, T. Hodgson, and William Clark of Hesket-New-Market.
After the fifth round, the only two men left standing were Todd and
Richardson, the dyer; and the fall which ought to have been decided between
them, resulted in nothing but discreditable quarrelling and ill feeling. A
fuller account of this unpleasant affair will be found in the sketch of
Thomas Richardson's career. Todd's friends, as a natural consequence,
thought that he was the better man, and ought to have won. Todd himself,
after the event, seemed to be under a bond of secrecy on the subject. We
have no desire to sully his memory, with the charge of a settled
determination not to go to work with equal holds. We do not wish to twit
him with taking a mean advantage of his opponent, in order to deprive him
of the chance of a fair contest. We believe he had a soul above such an
unwarrantable proceeding. It will, probably, be nearer the mark to say, he
acted unwisely and unbecomingly, by conniving with his principal backer, as
the sequel will show.
Todd's usual remark was--when the subject chanced to be broached and
discussed--that Richardson's backers pressed him very much to "lay down,"
which he declined most definitely to do. But a week or two before his
death, a far more disagreeable fact oozed out. He then acknowledged, to an
intimate friend, mentioned hereafter--whom he rescued at the Gretna
fight--that he received _half the money_, offered for the head prize, in
1816. This, of course, was paid through the agency of one of the principal
promoters of the Carlisle ring, in a left-handed manner, with an
understanding that it should never be made public!
About two years after the dishonourable act narrated, had broken up the
annual wrestling at Carlisle, Todd used to tell of meeting Richardson, in
the third round at some village sports, where he threw him easily.
After this--and during the discontinuance of the popular gathering on the
Swifts, for three years--we know nothing of Todd's career as a wrestler,
until the Carlisle Meeting of 1822, when he again made a gallant but
unsuccessful struggle to carry off the head prize. Being engaged as a
gamekeeper, in the service of the Earl of Carlisle, on the Naworth Castle
estates, he entered himself under the assumed name of "John Moses of
Alston." Todd displayed considerable science and activity in the course of
the day, and distinguished himself much and deservedly, by throwing
several dangerous hands, among whom may be especially mentioned, John
Fearon of Gilcrux, seventeen stone weight, John Liddle of Bothel, a
fourteen-and-a-half stone man, (winner of the head prize at Keswick, a few
weeks previously, where he finally disposed of William Cass of
Loweswater)--and Robert Watters of Carlisle, a light weight, but an
accomplished scientific wrestler. In the final fall, however, with Cass,
the cup of success was again dashed from his lips. This time the
weight--sixteen stones--and strength of the Loweswater champion, proving
too much for twelve-and-a-half stones.
Scarcely had the cheers died away which greeted the West Cumberland man's
victory, when Louis Nanny of Haltwhistle--an enthusiastic frequenter of
wrestling rings--offered to back the Knarsdale man in a match against Cass
for a hundred pounds. Todd thought this sum too much to risk even handed,
against such a powerful antagonist; but was willing to be backed, and
contend at all hazards, for half that amount. The two east countrymen,
however, had it all their own way, so far as the challenge was concerned.
At that time, Cass being new to the Carlisle ring, and almost unknown as a
wrestler, no one seemed bold enough to stand forward on his behalf; and,
moreover, like a quiet, inoffensive man, he was perfectly content to rest
upon the laurels he had just gained.
This year Weightman--"aw ower his oan daft nonsense"--was thrown by Fearon
of Gilcrux, in the first round, for the principal prize at Carlisle. Not
being eligible, on this account, for entry in the second day's competition,
Tom Todd stood on one side for him; when Weightman, in order to retrieve
lost ground, took pains, and threw his men as fast as he came to them.
"Talk aboot russlin'!" exclaimed an eye witness, "Wey, man, he just went
thro' them like th' wind!"
As time passed on, and Weightman came more prominently to the fore, Tom
Todd found himself absolutely nowhere in the giant's grasp; he therefore
thought it wiser and more prudent to retire from the ring, without making
any further efforts to carry off first honours.
When Todd was a young man, he kept a tight well-made little trail-hound,
trained to the name of "Stand back," but which was entered at the different
trails as "Towler." Harry Kirkby of Kirkhaugh, the clergyman's lame son,
used to tell a tale about Todd and himself taking the hound one year to
Melmerby Rounds. When the dogs were coming in, they looked to the
spectators, "aw iv a cluster," as they neared the winning post. At this
crisis, Todd roared out in a loud voice: "Standback! Standback!" apparently
appealing to the crowd, and ran fussing about immediately in front, with
his arms flying in the air. "An' dar bon!" said the priest's son, "the dog
com' in like stooar, an' wan easily!"
This artful trick has been often practised since, if not earlier than that
time, at dog-trails--successfully on more than one occasion by the late
Richard Gelderd of Ulverston, a keen dog-trailer. He had a "Standback," and
at the Flan and other neighbouring sports, was trained to rush forward to
the winning post, when the crowd were ordered in a stentorian voice:
"Standback! Standback! an' let t' dogs cum in--can't ye!"
At the great northern fight, between Carter and Oliver, at Gretna, in 1816,
John Slack of Carlisle, shoemaker, then a young man in his teens, was
thrown to the ground by the surging of the immense crowd, and might easily
have been trampled to death. Seeing the impending danger, Tom Todd, and
John Barnes, the constable, both powerful men, elbowed their way through
the crowd, and succeeded in rescuing the fallen man, before he was
seriously injured. On lifting him from the ground, Todd exclaimed, "Marcy,
Jwohn! is that thee? My faiks! but thoo'd a narrow squeak for thy life
theear!"
Some time after the year 1822, Todd left the north of England, and went
into the Highlands of Scotland, where he became gamekeeper to Sir Charles
Ross of Belnagowan Castle, Ross-shire, and continued in that capacity for
something like twenty-four or twenty-five years.
Returning again to his native district, he settled upon the farm rented by
his brother John, at Moscow, near the fashionable watering-place of
Gilsland. A few years before he died, he gradually lost his sight, and at
times grew "varra canker't an' twisty." Once when one of these fits was
upon him, his denunciation of wrestlers and wrestling rings was hurled
about in such unqualified language, that one was apt to think the
transgressions committed in the Carlisle ring of 1816, still haunted his
waking dreams--not probably for anything done personally, but for being
made a cat's-paw at that time, by his principal backer.
In the month of September, 1875, Todd, then in his eighty-fourth year, went
to the house door, beckoned to the farm-workers that dinner was ready, and
immediately after passed quietly away. From the fact of the Knarsdale
athlete having attained this great age--and he was only one of many who
did--we may draw pretty conclusive evidence, that the northern pastime of
wrestling does not, as a rule, shorten life.
WILLIAM WILSON
OF AMBLESIDE.
Size, position, and population considered, it must be allowed that the
district of High Furness, in North Lancashire, has produced its fair quota
of wrestling celebrities. Foremost comes William Wilson, then Miles
Dixon--according to Professor Wilson, "a match for any cock in
Cumberland"--his brother James, and Roan and John Long, all men of great
stature and power, capable of hurling their opponents
"Off the ground with matchless strength."
These were all natives of the soil. In the early part of the nineteenth
century, the wrestlings at the Ferry-on-Windermere, at Backbarrow, Bouth
Fair, Finsthwaite, Oxenpark, Arrad Foot Races, and on many other village
greens in Furness Fells, were often very keenly contested. Arthur Burns of
Ullater, (who suffered from the deadly grip of Roan Long,) James Burns, a
younger brother of Arthur's, Roger Taylor of Scathwaite, and John Wren of
Bouth, the peatman, were all good wrestlers in their day and generation.
Then came John Harrison of Lowick, sometimes called "Checky," from the
colour of his shirt, who carried off one or two prizes from the Keswick
ring in its palmiest days; later in life a landlord at Ulverston; a man of
enormous strength, standing fully six feet high, stout limbed, and weighing
something like seventeen stones. One feat, forcibly illustrating his
uncommon strength, deserves record. During one of the statute fairs, two
sturdy country servant men got to fighting in his house at Ulverston. He
made no fuss of any kind, but quietly took up one under each arm, and
carried them both, vainly struggling to be free, into the middle of the
market place; then set them down on their legs, and, giving each a good
bang against the other, left them to fight it out. Joseph Jackson of
Grizebeck, in Kirkby Ireleth, sickle maker, though barely a twelve-stone
man, gained many first prizes, and came off triumphant in a severely
contested match with William Bateman of Yottenfews, near Gosforth.
Cannon of Subberthwaite, Robert Casson and Brian Christopherson of
Oxenpark, and Marshall, the forgeman, also deserve a passing word of
praise, although none of them ever went out of their own neighbourhood to
wrestle. Christopherson put forth promising powers at the Ferry and other
places, and was highly complimented by Richard Chapman. At the Ferry, he
was backed by a local sporting man, in a match with George Donaldson--a
single fall--for two pounds; and, to the surprise of a crowd of anxious
onlookers, won gallantly. There was little difference in the weight or
height of the winner and the loser. Casson threw Harrison, Cannon, and all
comers at Bouth Fair; and Marshall did precisely the same thing at
Sparkbridge. On the last occasion, the excitement amongst the spectators
became so intense, that the forgeman's progress was urged on after the
following primitive fashion: "If thou'll nobbut thra' Cannon," shouted
one, "I'll gi'e the' a pint!" "Thra' Harrison," roared another, "an'
I'll stand the' a quart!" "I think," responded Marshall, with a fine stroke
of humour--"I think, I'd better hev summat to be gaen on wi'. It'll
mebbe help me to thra' them _beàth togidder_!"
William Wilson was born and brought up at High Wray, a village pleasantly
situated on the western banks of Windermere lake. Near to his birthplace
there has been erected a lordly baronial residence--Wray Castle--on a
beautiful commanding site, overlooking all the higher reaches of
Windermere, and forming one of the many attractive objects for sight-seers
on the lake. Wilson was a nephew of the Dixons of Grasmere, and was
commonly spoken of as "girt Will Wilson," in order to distinguish him from
"lile Will Wilson" of Grasmere, or "wicked Will," as the latter was
sometimes called, from the bottom and endurance he displayed in frequent
pugnacious encounters. It was "lile Will," we believe, who once wrestled up
at Bowness, with William Thwaites of Staveley, an eleven-stone man. They
each got a fall. The next one--called by the umpires a dog-fall--was
claimed by Thwaites, who, in consequence, refused to wrestle over again.
The ring was soon broken up in disorder, and in the _melée_ which ensued,
Professor Wilson struck Thwaites over the head with his stick, and bulged
his hat in. "Did I do that, my lad?" asked Wilson. "Yes," replied Thwaites,
"yee did it: I's suèr an' sarten o' that." "Then," said Wilson, "here's a
sovereign for wrestling so well. It'll mebbe help to get thee a new hat."
William Wilson grew up a tall "lathy fellow," standing, when full grown,
quite six feet four inches high, straight as a willow-wand and as lithe,
and gradually grew until at twenty-two he weighed from fourteen to fifteen
stones, with a good reach of arm, and a finely developed muscular frame. As
a hyper, or "inside striker," as Litt calls him, he displayed superb form.
For three or four years, he stood unmatched and irresistible in this
particular stroke, and since his day no man has appeared worth calling a
rival to him, except William Jackson of Kinniside. We are now alluding to
the "standing hype," or as the author of _Wrestliana_ more properly defines
it, "inside striking." It is a chip in which a tall wrestler, like Wilson
or Jackson, has a great advantage, particularly over shorter opponents. The
"swinging hype," in which Chapman, Donaldson, and Longmire were such deadly
proficients, is more showy and artistic, consisting of a quick swing off
the breast once round or nearly so, and then a turn over with the knee
inside the thigh.
Our information respecting Wilson's career as a wrestler is neither so full
nor minute as we could have desired. The probability is that he won his
first prize on the banks of his native Windermere, but at what age or under
what circumstances is not now known. When a young man, Roan Long and he had
a severe bout at Ambleside sports, which ended in Wilson throwing his burly
opponent cleverly with the hype.
The first definite notice, however, we have of him as an athlete was at the
Keswick Regatta and Races in 1818, being at that time about twenty-two
years old. While the Carlisle ring, on the Swifts, was closed for the space
of four years, the wrestling in the Crow Park, Keswick, assumed an
importance which it could scarcely otherwise have attained. In fact, for a
time it was justly entitled to be considered the leading and most important
wrestling gathering in the north. In aid of this distinction, there then
existed on all sides of the metropolitan lake town, a numerous array of
very distinguished athletes. Mr. Pocklington of Barrow House, was the chief
supporter of the regatta and races at that date, and his personal exertions
to promote the permanent establishment and success of these meetings were
unceasing.
In the year 1818, some remarkably good play took place in the wrestling
ring. The two most successful competitors were in excellent "fettle,"
namely, Tom Richardson and William Wilson. The latter gathered his men
quickly and cleanly, and threw them as fast as he came to them. Coming
against Richardson in the final fall, he lifted him from the ground with
the intention of hyping, but failing to hold his man firmly, the Dyer
turned in, and, after a considerable struggle, managed to bring him over
with the buttock. After this tussle, Wilson always spoke of Richardson as
being "swine back't," meaning thereby that his back was extremely slippery
and difficult to hold, from the nature of its peculiar roundness.
In the year 1819, Wilson carried off the head prize for wrestling, and a
handsome belt, at the Ferry Regatta, Windermere. We have no account of the
other competitors at this meeting.
Wilson attended the Keswick gathering of the same year, for the second
time, and it proved memorable above all others in his wrestling career,
stamping him as "the best wrestler Westmorland ever produced." Many
dispassionate judges at this time held the opinion, that this eulogium
might be extended also to the neighbouring northern county. We have no
doubt, if he had continued a healthy man, this verdict would have been
confirmed over and over again. Although he did not succeed in winning the
chief prize this year, he nevertheless distinguished himself ten times more
than the victor who did, by throwing the man with whom no one else had the
shadow of a chance. We refer to his struggle with John Mc.Laughlan of
Dovenby, more than two inches taller than Wilson, and at that time five or
six stones heavier.
As a prelude to this fall, Clattan took hold of Wilson in the middle of the
ring, in a good natured sort of way, and lifted him up in his arms to show
how easily he could hold him. No sooner was he set down, than Wilson threw
his arms around Clattan's waist, and lifted him in precisely the same way,
a course of procedure which greatly amused the spectators. After these
preliminaries had been gone through, the two men were not long in settling
into holds, each having full confidence in his own powers and his own mode
of attack. A few seconds, however, decided the struggle of these two modern
Titans. No sooner had each one gripped his fellow, than quick as thought,
Wilson lifted Clattan from the ground in grand style, and hyped him with
the greatest apparent ease--a feat that no other man in Britain could have
done.
The cheering which followed the giant's downfall was tremendous, and might
have been heard on the top of Skiddaw or Saddleback. "Hurrah! hurrah! Well
done Wilson!" shouted a hundred voices, while round followed round of
applause in rapid succession. It was one of these brilliant and exciting
moments, when the miserable party feeling of envy and strife, which
sometimes crops up between the two sister counties, was entirely swamped
and forgotten. "Thoo wasn't far wrang," exclaimed a hard featured man, with
an austere voice, to his next neighbour, sitting by the side of the
ring--"Thoo wasn't far wrang, when thoo said Wilson wad throw him."
"Wrang!" replied the other in ecstasies, "I wad think nut! Wilson's
like a cooper, thoo sees. He kens hoo to gang roond a cask!"
An old "statesman," from about Mungrisedale or Penruddock--wearing a pair
of buckskin breeches, whose pint of nut-brown had just been upset in the
_furor_--is remembered as having been so worked upon by the excitement of
the moment, that he threw his hat in the air, and, in derisive language,
addressed himself to anybody and everybody, as follows:--"Ha! ha! my fine
fellow! If thoo says Clattan _isn't_ a gud russler, an' wasn't _olas_ a gud
russler, thoo tells a heàp o' lees, an' nowte but lees--thoo confoondit
taistrel, thoo!"
This fall is still talked of at the firesides of the dalesmen of the
north--cottars, farmers, and "statesmen"--as one of the most wonderful and
dazzling achievements ever witnessed in the wrestling ring.
Returning again to the next Keswick meeting which followed, Wilson found no
difficulty in walking through the ranks of 1820. When only four men were
standing, Tom "Dyer" was drawn against Isaac Mason of Croglin, who at that
time was looked upon as a dangerous customer in the ring. It was the
opinion of some onlookers that the "Dyer" seemed to be afraid of Mason. Be
that as it may, the two not being able to agree about holds--a procedure
which has sometimes discredited parties in the ring, and is sorely trying
to the patience of spectators--the stewards, after a considerable delay,
very properly crossed them both out. Wilson and William Richardson were now
the last standers, and the former carried off the Caldbeck hero with
ridiculous ease. Litt says, "Richardson had not the shadow of a chance with
him." This testimony is exceedingly significant, and says much for Wilson's
powers as a wrestler.
"Hoo 'at thoo let him hype the' i' that stupid fashion, thoo numb divel,
thoo?" said Tom "Dyer," reproachfully, to the loser of the fall, while the
latter was engaged in putting his coat on. "What! _he hes it off_--an' that
thoo kens as weel as anybody," was the sturdy reply. "I cudn't stop him,
ner _thee_ nowder, for that matter, if he nobbut gat a fair ho'd o' the'."
The year 1822, found Wilson "rayder gaen back, an' thin o' flesh." He
laboured under an asthmatic complaint, which increased upon him about this
date, and began to tell much against his athletic attainments.
Nevertheless, he attended the Keswick gathering once more. The wrestling
was carried on in the bottom of a meadow, and not on the higher ground as
previously. The ground being wet and slippery, was consequently disastrous
to many of the wrestlers. Wilson threw Jonathan Watson, a dangerous hand
to meet, in the first round, for the head prize; and in one of the
subsequent rounds was drawn against Weightman of Hayton. Lifting the huge
East Cumbrian "varra clean," but not being able to keep his feet, from the
slippery and lumpy state of the ground, Wilson overbalanced himself and
fell backwards, with his opponent on the top of him. This untoward
accident, in all probability, lost him the chief prize. Cass of Loweswater
brought Weightman to grief, in the last round but one, by striking at the
outside, and throwing him off the breast.
At the Windermere Regatta, held at Low Wood, during the same year--where
the rain fell in torrents--it was generally expected that Wilson, who had
conquered so many, would again be the conqueror. But the fates were against
him. He came off the third stander, being thrown by Edward Howell, a clever
wrestler from Greystoke, in the neighbourhood of Penrith, who won the belt
and four sovereigns.
So far as we have been able to ascertain, the year 1822 was the last one in
which Wilson figured in the ring. If this be correct, his wrestling career
will be limited to four or five years duration, at the utmost. No doubt,
the complaint under which he laboured, was the principal cause of his early
retirement. Although Wilson loved athletic exercises much, it must be
understood, however, that he viewed them more as a means of recreation and
pastime, than in any other sense; a thrifty ambition inducing him to look
zealously to the main point of making both ends meet at home.
We have heard it asserted that when he and his first wife were married in
1820, they could only raise ten pounds of loose money between them. With
this small sum to the fore, however, they ventured to take an inn at
Ambleside, called the Golden Rule, which they rented for seven years,
during which time they managed to save £700. They then took a larger inn,
which was afterwards known as the Commercial. Some time elapsed, and they
removed to the King's Arms, in Patterdale, at that period the only inn at
the head of Ullswater.
While he was an innkeeper at Patterdale, George Brunskill, the life
guardsman, about the height of Wilson, and two stones heavier, was very
anxious to try his skill with him. After much pressing, a friendly bout was
consented to, on condition that Brunskill would be satisfied with one fall.
The result was that Wilson "dud whack him;" the soldier being carried clean
off "befooar he reetly kent whoar he was."
William Wilson--whose brief, but distinguished career, has helped to confer
an enduring lustre on the northern wrestling ring--died at Patterdale, in
1836, about forty years old, and was buried in Ambleside churchyard.
JOHN WEIGHTMAN
OF HAYTON.
For great size and well-proportioned figure, combined with amazing strength
and activity, John Weightman was one of the most remarkable men ever bred
in Cumberland. Born at Greenhead, near Gilsland, in 1795, he was brought up
at the quiet pastoral village of Hayton, near Brampton, where he continued
to live until the time of his death. In that neighbourhood, he was always
spoken of as a remarkably simple minded man, being quiet and settled in
appearance when about his daily work or any ordinary pursuit. Fierce
passions, however, were then only asleep, shrouding a peculiar temperament,
easily excited to mirth or to violent anger.