The Dawn of the XIXth Century in England

Another cruel, yet intensely national sport, was Bull-baiting. Hardly a country town of note but had its “Bull-ring”; and, although the bull had but a circumscribed range, being tied by a rope to a stake, yet the dogs did not always get the best of the combat, and many a tyke met his death, or went a limping cripple for the remainder of his days. I have already noted one bull-baiting in the account of the Jubilee rejoicings at Windsor in October, 1709, and that must suffice.

A few years previously it had been made the subject of a debate in the House of Commons, where much special pleading in its favour was exhibited. On May 24, 1802,52 Mr. John Dent, M.P. for Lancaster, moved that the Bill to prevent Bull-baiting and Bull-running be read a second time. Sir Richard Hill pleaded the cause of the poor bulls, not very eloquently, but as earnestly as he could. He pointed out that an Act had been passed for the abolition of Bull-baiting in Ireland, and he called upon the Irish members to support this Bill.

Then up rose the Right Hon. W. Windham, M.P. for Norwich, and he contended that the cruelty was no greater than that comprised in the sports of hunting, shooting, and fishing. “If the effects of one were to be viewed through the medium of a microscope, why were not the consequences of the other to be scrutinized with equal severity?” In the course of a long speech he warmed to his view of the subject, until, at last, in the fervour of his eloquence, he burst into the following: “He believed that the bull felt a satisfaction in the contest, not less so than the hound did when he heard the sound of the horn which summoned him to the chase. True it was, that young bulls, or those that were never baited before, showed reluctance to be tied to the stake; but those bulls, which, according to the language of the sport, were called game bulls, who were used to baiting, approached the stake and stood there, while preparing for the contest, with the utmost composure. If the bull felt no pleasure, and was cruelly dealt with, surely the dogs had also some claim to compassion; but the fact was, that both seemed equally arduous in the conflict; and the bull, like every other animal, while it had the better side, did not appear to feel unpleasantly; it would be ridiculous to say he felt no pain; yet, when on such occasions he exhibited no sign of terror, it was a demonstrable proof that he felt some pleasure.”

Mr. Courtenay rose to a much greater height. Said he: “What a glorious sight to see a dog attack a bull! It animates a British heart —

‘To see him growl, and snap, and snarl, and bite,Pin the bull’s nose, and prove instinctive might.’

Besides, if bull-baiting was given up, the characteristic of our British dogs, so classically celebrated in the Augustan age of literature, would be totally lost. Claudian says: ‘Magnaque taurorum fracturæ colla Britannæ.’ Symmachus mentions seven Irish bull-dogs: ‘Septem Scottici canes,’ as then first produced in the circus at Rome, to the great admiration of the people.’”

General Gascoyne considered it an amusement which the lower orders were entitled to; and it was “with regret he observed a disposition in many of the members to deprive the poor of their recreations, and force them to pass their time in chaunting at conventicles.”

Then the gentle William Wilberforce rose, and rebuked the former speakers, telling them that he thought the subject had been treated with too much levity. “The evidence against the practice was derived from respectable magistrates. From such evidence he had derived a variety of facts, which were too horrid to detail to the House. A bull – that honest, harmless, useful animal – was forcibly tied to a stake, and a number of bull-dogs set upon him. If he was not sufficiently roused by the pain of their attacks, the most barbarous expedients were hit upon to awake in him that fury which was necessary to the amusement of the inhuman spectators. One instance of the latter kind he would state. A bull had been bought for the sole purpose of being baited; but, upon being fixed to the stake, he was found of so mild a nature that all the attacks of the dogs were insufficient to excite him to the requisite degree of fury; upon which those who bought him refused to pay the price to the original owner, unless he could be made to serve their purposes: the owner, after numberless expedients, at last sawed off his horns, and poured into them a poignant sort of liquid, that quickly excited the animal to the wished-for degree of fury. When bulls were bought merely for the purpose of being baited, the people who bought them wished to have as much diversion (if diversion, such cruelty could be called) as possible, for their money. The consequence was that every art, even fire, had been employed to rouse the exhausted animal to fresh exertions, and there were instances where he had expired in protracted agonies amidst the flames. It had been said, that it would be wrong to deprive the lower orders of their amusements, of the only cordial drop of life which supported them under their complicated burthens. Wretched, indeed, must be the condition of the common people of England, if their whole happiness consisted in the practice of such barbarity!”

Sheridan joined Wilberforce; but the Bill was thrown out by 64 to 51; and the practice of Bull-baiting was only declared illegal in 1835, when it was included in the Act against Cruelty to Animals, 5th and 6th William IV., cap. 59.

There was yet another brutal sport, not wholly unconnected with money and betting, which was then at its apogee, and that was Prize-fighting. This decade was at its Augustan period, when the ruffians, who mauled each other for lucre’s sake, were petted and fêted as much as ever were the gladiators in the time of Rome’s decline – the names of the pugilists then living being those of the greatest renown in the history of the prize ring. Even people who are not tainted with a love of the “Noble Art of Self-defence” must have heard of Jem Belcher, John Gully, page to George IV., and M.P. for Pontefract; Dutch Sam, Tom Crib, and his black adversary Thomas Molineaux; these names are as familiar to every schoolboy as those of the Homeric heroes. It was an age of muscle, not of brains; and the use of the fists was encouraged as the arbiter in disputes which nothing but a little blood-letting could appease, in preference to the duels, or to that utter abhorrence of all Englishmen – the knife.

Doubtless, boxing is commendable in many ways, and should form part of every man’s physical education, not only to the great advantage of his muscular system, and consequent good health, but, should occasion ever require the use of his fists, he is armed at once with weapons in whose use he is well trained; but that is very different from two men, possibly very good friends, spending long months in getting themselves in the best possible physical condition for pounding each other into a mass of bruised jelly, in order to put some money in their pockets, and afford sport and amusement to a parcel of debased brutes, whatever their social position might be.

The Prince of Wales in his younger days was, to a small extent, a “Patron of the Ring,” i. e., he once went to a meeting which took place at Smitham Bottom, near Croydon, on June 9, 1788, where he saw three fights, one between the celebrated John Jackson – whose beautiful tomb is in Brompton Cemetery – and Fewterel, of Birmingham; and, on Jackson’s winning, he sent him, by the hand of his friend, Colonel Hanger, a bank-note. The next fight was between Stephen Oliver, nicknamed “Death,” with a Jew, named Elisha Crabbe, which ended in “Death’s” defeat; and the third encounter was between two outsiders.

Again he was present at three fights which took place on the Brighton race-course, on August 6, 1788. In the third – which was between Tom Tyne, “the Tailor,” and Earl – Tyne hit his opponent a sharp, left-handed blow on the side of the head, which drove him against the rail of the stage. He fell insensible, and expired very shortly afterwards. The Prince of Wales openly expressed his determination to never again witness a prize-fight – and this he kept – also to settle an annuity on Earl’s widow and children; but history is silent as to whether this was ever carried out.

Of course, then as now, the better-thinking portion of the nation discountenanced these blackguard exhibitions, which were mainly supported by the “fast” set of that day – the Jerry Hawthorns and Corinthian Toms of the next decade. It is refreshing to read such paragraphs as the following:

Morning Post, January 11, 1808: “Prize Fighting. We are happy to hear that there is some prospect of this most disgraceful and mischievous practice being put an end to by the interference of the Legislature. The consequences resulting from it become every day more and more serious, and, without a vigorous effort to terminate the evil, we may shortly expect to find numerous families reduced to the extremes of poverty and wretchedness, in consequence of those who have hitherto supported them by their industry having given themselves up to idleness and blackguardism, by entering the foul ranks, and becoming the constant associates of prize-fighting vagabonds.”

Ibid.: “The magistrates are beginning to do their duty; they, last week, dissolved a meeting of Boxers who were sparring for money. His Majesty’s Navy wants able-bodied men, and those lovers of fighting could hardly complain, if they were compelled to box with French instead of English men.”

Morning Post, February 3, 1808: “Prize Fighting. We are rejoiced to find that we have not in vain called attention to the growing evil of this disgraceful, mischievous, and baleful practice. Mr. Justice Grose, in his Charge to the Grand Jury, yesterday, particularly noticed its pernicious effects, and forcibly urged the necessity of a speedy remedy; and we may, therefore, hope, ere long, to see the progress of this species of blackguardism and vice effectually arrested. We shall take an early opportunity of offering some further reflections upon the subject.”

But nothing came of it. It is now illegal, but we know well enough, that fights frequently take place. The police are half-hearted over it, knowing it to be a thankless task even to effect a capture; for no magistrate ever inflicts more than a very nominal punishment, either on principals or accessories.

That the physical education of the fair sex was attended to, long before these days of female gymnastic exercises, is evidenced by the following advertisement in the Morning Post, February 20, 1810: “Patent grand Exercise Frames particularly intended for Young Ladies, the use of which will not only remove deformities, but will infallibly produce health, strength, symmetry, beauty, and superior elegance of deportment,” &c.

The lower classes in the Metropolis were naturally debarred from manly sports, by want of room; so that almost their sole muscular exercise was Skittles. But, in the country, a wholesome rivalry was engendered among the rustic youth, by means of foot-racing, wrestling, and Cudgel-playing. The latter still survives in Berkshire, where many a crown has been cracked at the Scouring of the White Horse (of late years fallen into desuetude), and many an old “gamester” still lingers, who can tell long yarns of the hats he has won. At fairs, too, and holidays, the young lasses used to race for smocks, and many sports were in vogue that are now never practised, save when resuscitated at some Harvest Home, or some country school feast.

CHAPTER XXXVI

Hunting then, and now – Hunting near the Metropolis – The Epping Hunt – Fishing – Shooting then, and now – Guns – Methods of proving gun barrels – Big charges – Introduction of the Percussion Cap – Size of bags – Colonel Thornton’s bet.

OF COURSE there was Hunting, both Fox and Stag, but it was not carried out on the same principles then as now. A man, then, kept a pack of hounds for his own amusement, that of his friends, and the neighbourhood generally. A meet, then, was a great social gathering of neighbours, at which, for the time, all were on a courteous equality, engendered by similarity of taste, and cemented by means of the Master, who, at some great expense, kept the pack for others’ use. Now, “the old order changes, yielding place to new;” the probability is that it is a subscription pack – with the subscriptions not too well paid, and the Master frequently changing, owing to his quarrels with his masters, the subscribers, who carp at his doings, and try to dictate their own views. The railway brings down the “London Contingent” – sporting stockbrokers, solicitors, tailors, and publicans – in fact, all who can scrape together the necessary money to hire the “hunter,” and pay its fare to the nearest station to the meet. These people have no sympathy with the farmers, no relations with the county, spend no money, because they return to London at night, care nought for the damage they do, which, probably, is done in ignorance; and it is no wonder that, nowadays, hunting is not so popular among tenant farmers as it might be – and it is pretty safe to prophesy, that in many districts, before many more years, it will be reckoned as a thing of the past.

Then, however, there was never heard a whisper of the scarcity of foxes. A fox found poisoned, or shot, would have been considered as an indelible disgrace to the district. The word vulpecide was not coined, because the crime had not been committed. No farmer ever sent in a claim to the Hunt, and only old women, cottagers, ever wanted compensation for the gander, or the two or three hens that they had lost; as to warning off land, it had never been dreamt of, much less practised.

In other ways, too, hunting was different – both horses, and hounds were heavier, and slower then; it was not the pace of the run that was discussed at night, but its length, and the behaviour of both hounds, and horses. Fox hunting began much earlier in the morning than it does now; and a good solid meal of cold meat, washed down with a tankard of home brewed, was vastly superior to a modern “lawn meet” breakfast, with its wines and liqueurs, to “steady the nerves,” to say nothing of the flask of “jumping powder.” Sport, too, was found much nearer the Metropolis then than now. Morning Post, August 14, 1805: “To Sportsmen and others. – A Deputation to be granted of the very extensive Manors of Hornsey and Finchley, in the County of Middlesex, with the liberty of Hunting and Shooting over, and upon, the said Manors, abounding with game,” &c.

The Epping Hunt, too, where the citizens53 annually met on Easter Monday, to vindicate their right to hunt in the Forest, was not the farce it afterwards became. Most men, then, were accustomed to horseback, and could manage to stick on somehow.

Fishing and shooting were, of course, as popular as now. Of the former we have had little to learn since Isaac Walton’s time, and the illustration shows us that the “Contemplative Man,” in the early part of this century, knew how to combine his “Recreation” with the charms of female society.

Shooting, like hunting, was a totally different thing, in the first ten years of the century, to what it is now. There were no battues, no hot, and elaborate, luncheons, no being posted in “warm corners,” no army of beaters, no breech-loaders, and two attendants to load for you, and, at the end of a day’s sport, no waggon-loads of slain to be sent off to market to help pay, in some part, the expenses of breeding, and keeping, such a head of game. Then, a man went out, preferably with a friend or two, soon after an early breakfast, accompanied by Don and Ponto, who were his constant companions in his walks, and whose education he had personally superintended; to watch their intelligent movements was in itself one of the pleasures of the day. When a covey rose, not a shot was wasted, if possible, for, by the time the gun was reloaded, the birds would be far off. A bit of bread and cheese, as luncheon, at the nearest farmhouse, or the village pub.; if the former, a brace of birds, or a hare left, with a kindly message. Enough game to carry home, without being tired, plenty for the larder, and some for friends; then dinner, some punch – and Betty would come with the chamber candle and warming-pan, to find the party asleep and quite ready for bed.

The Guns, with which our grandfathers shot, were vastly inferior to our modern breechloader; the workmanship was good, but the flint-lock, with its tardy firing, and the very weak powder then in use, did not render the “birding gun” a very efficient weapon.

Thornhill, who wrote the Shooting Directory in 1804, is as great an authority on the subject of guns as any of his contemporaries; and he had quite sense enough to see that the old-fashioned long barrel of four feet, or more, carried no further than one of three feet, and he counselled the musket length of two feet ten inches, as the standard length for fowling-piece barrels, and preferred one that carried its shot close, to one that scattered. The method of proving “that a barrel will not burst, was to get a ball to fit the exact bore, and put the exact weight of the ball in powder, with which load, and fire it off by a train; if it does not burst, you need be under no apprehension. This is called Tower-proof; or put in double the quantity of powder and shot.”

He recommends as a proper charge for a fowling-piece of ordinary calibre, a drachm and a quarter, or a drachm and a half, of good powder, and an ounce, or an ounce and a quarter, of shot; and, when treating on the subject of recoil, he gives one or two anecdotes of overloading. “The overloading of the piece is the reason of the recoil; respecting sportsmen who are in the habit of overloading with shot, such are properly ridiculed in a treatise published some time since, entitled, ‘Cautions to Young Sportsmen,’ in which we find an advertisement levelled at some persons who were going to a Pigeon Shooting Match at Ballingbear-Warren House. It was as follows: ‘Take notice, that no person will be allowed to load with more than four ounces of shot.’ A gamekeeper to whom this author mentioned the story, told him he thought it a pretty fair allowance, and, on being told what charge and weight of shot he generally used, replied, he divided a pound into five charges… A friend of the gentleman who relates this story, seeing his keeper equipped for a pigeon match, had the curiosity to examine his charge, and, after trying it with his rammer, expressed his surprise at finding it rather less than usual. ‘Oh, sir,’ replied the keeper, ‘I have only put in the powder yet;’ and, on putting in the shot, the charge, altogether, was eleven fingers. The reason he assigned was ‘that he always liked to give his piece a belly full.’”

The Percussion Cap, which was destined to make such a revolution in small arms, was patented April 11, 1807, by the inventor, the Rev. A. J. Forsyth, of Belhelvie, Aberdeenshire. It soon came into use, for we find an advertisement in the Morning Post, December 23, 1808: “To Sportsmen. The Patent Gun-lock invented by Mr. Forsyth is to be had at No. 10, Piccadilly, near the Haymarket. Those who may be unacquainted with the excellence of this Invention are informed that the inflammation is produced without the assistance of flint, and is much more rapid than in the common way. The Lock is so constructed as to render it completely impervious to water, or damp of any kind, and may, in fact, be fired under water.”

Grouse, partridge, and other shooting, commenced on the same dates as now, and game certificates were as necessary then, as at the present time. Heavy bags were not the rule. Thornhill supplies us with his ideal of a luxurious sportsman of his time, with every appliance for slaughter, and game ad libitum. Compare his butcher’s bill with that of a modern battue. “A man of fortune, surrounded with gamekeepers (let us suppose the scene for the present in Norfolk), pointers, setters, &c., without number, Manton54 Guns, and all in compleat retinue, going out at, perhaps, twelve o’clock (the hour of indolent, and feather bed gunners), into the highest preserved covers in that County, where the game is so very tame, that twenty birds may be killed in a few hours; their servants with clean guns ready, and, if necessary, loaded by them; and probably, if the dog of one of these elegant sportsmen is admired, or gains credit, if his master is asked his name, he makes for answer ‘he really cannot tell you, but will ask his gamekeeper.’”

A large bag is spoken of by Daniel, in his Field Sports, where he says that in 1796, on Mr. Colquhoun’s manor at Wretham, in Norfolk, the Duke of Bedford, and six other gentlemen, killed eighty cock pheasants, and forty hares, besides some partridges, in one day.

Mr. Coke, of Holkham, kept up a wonderful head of game, so that his performances ought not to be looked upon in the light of phenomenal sportsmanship, because his victims were so plentifully to hand. As an instance, on October 7, 1797, upon his manor at Warham, and within a mile’s circumference, he bagged forty brace of partridges, in eight hours, at ninety-three shots; and, on the previous day, over the same ground, he killed twenty-two brace and a half, in three hours. In 1801, he killed, in five days, seven hundred and twenty-six partridges.

In January, 1803, Mr. Coke, Sir John Shelley, and Tom Sheridan went to Lord Cholmondeley’s place at Houghton, in Norfolk, and killed there, in one day, to their three guns only, fourteen and a half brace of hares, sixteen couples of rabbits, twenty-four brace of pheasants, thirteen brace of partridges, and sixteen couples of woodcock.

In the Morning Post of the 21st of January, 1801, we find: “Col. Thornton some time ago made a bet that he would kill 400 head of game at 400 shots, the result was, that, in the year 1800, he bagged 417 head of game (consisting of partridges, pheasants, hares, snipe, and woodcock) at 411 shots. Enumerated amongst these are a black wild duck, and a white pheasant cock, and at the last point he killed a brace of cock pheasants, one with each barrel; on the leg of the one last killed (an amazing fine bird) was found a ring, proving that he had been taken by Colonel Thornton when hawking, and turned out again in the year 1792.”

CHAPTER XXXVII

A Cockney’s account of the First of September – Pigeon shooting – Out-door games – Cricket – High stakes – Lord’s cricket ground – Trap and ball – Billiards – Life of Andrews the billiard player.

PASSING from recounting the feats of legitimate sportsmen, let us unbend, and indulge in a contemporary account of his cockney congener —Times, September 2, 1803:

“A Cockney’s Account of Yesterday, being The First of September

“Having sat up all night to be ready and fresh in the morning, four of us met at the Obelisk, in St. George’s Fields, from whence we proceeded with our dogs, arms, and ammunition, to Lambeth Marsh, where we expected to have great sport, but found nothing except a cat, which we all fired at; but being only four in number, and a cat having nine lives, we missed killing her, though, as we believe, she was severely wounded. In this discharge we broke a bell glass in a gardener’s ground, so, fearing that we might, on that account, be taken up for poachers, we made the best of our way to Tothill Fields; here we reloaded our pieces, and gave our dogs a piece of bread each, but the fox dog would not eat his. We then proceeded to look about for sport, when two Westminster boys claimed the place as their manor, and drove us out of it. We now beat all about Jenny’s Whim, and seeing something swimming across the water, which a waterman’s boy told us was a dab-chick, we all fired, but without success, but the terrier caught it, as it ran up the bank and it proved to be the largest rat we had ever seen.

“As we passed through the five Fields, Chelsea, we saw several pigeons, but they flew so fast that none of us could take aim.

“On the other side of Battersea Bridge, met two men driving geese. Offered them eighteenpence, which they accepted, for a shot at the flock, at twenty yards. Drew lots who should fire first; it fell to Billy Candlewick’s chance, who, from his father belonging many years ago to one of the regiments of City Militia, knew something of taking aim.