In the days of bare knuckles there was only one champion, and though there were one or two exceptions—Tom Sayers is the most notable—little men, or men little by comparison, were quite out of the running. Champion, therefore, meant Champion—the best man that could be found. There was no qualification of the title—no middle, welter, feather, bantam, fly, or paper-weight. If a first-rate boxer of eight stone liked to fight another of sixteen stone—I suppose he could, but, rather naturally, he didn’t. In the old annals, though there is some record of the lesser men—lesser very often only in size and not in skill or courage—they are overshadowed by the big fellows far more than they are to-day. Even now, of course, from the spectacular point of view, big men—heavy-weights—cause far more excitement. And, as a rule, a good fight between two good big men is better worth seeing than a good fight between two good little men. The dramatic atmosphere is more intense, blows are harder, there is (though it is overrated) a certain splendour in sheer size.

But championship battles both now and in the past have been by no means necessarily the best battles: rather the contrary. Many a pot-house quarrel has provided better sport than a stupendously advertised World’s Championship with heaven only knows how ridiculously many thousands of pounds “hanging” upon the issue.

At the beginning of the nineteenth century there were, then, plenty of good little men, though we hear less about them than we do of the champions. Jack Scroggins was one, Ned Turner another. Scroggins may, by present standards, be called a light middle-weight: he was just under 11 stone. Turner was 10 stone 4 lb.—just over the present light-weight limit.

The first time they fought the ring was broken by rowdy 56 spectators, and the result was a draw. The second battle took place at Sawbridgeworth on June 10th, 1817, and Jack Scroggins, who had never yet been beaten, staked ￡120 to ￡80 on the event.

Ned Turner—the Welshman referred to by George Borrow in the passage quoted in the Introduction—was a very fine boxer, and at the outset put up an almost impenetrable defence. Some minutes in the first round went by before the two men really began to fight. Scroggins was accustomed to dash in and hit his man at the very beginning, but something in Turner’s attitude daunted him, and he held off. But a start had to be made, and after a while he did rush, came close to his man, and gave him a light hit from which he fell. Scroggins had been a sailor and was a jolly little man, ever eager to see the bright side of a situation. In the present case he was absurdly elated at his trifling success, and dashed in again. This time the Welshman caught him hard on the face twice, following these blows with another in the ribs, but when they wrestled for a fall he was underneath. Scroggins saw now that he had taken on a better man than he had ever faced before, and was correspondingly cautious. Round after round Turner showed himself quicker with his fists, the sailor stronger in a close. In the fourth round Turner sent in a vicious blow on his opponent’s neck which, Scroggins said later on, decided the fight. It is true that he threw Turner again and again after that, but he was a hurt man. At the end of the fifth round a troop of Yeomanry were seen approaching, clattering down the lane which ran alongside the field of battle. It was thought at first by the ring officials and spectators that these soldiers had come to spoil sport; but as a matter of fact they had heard of the fight and had merely determined to see it.

After this the exchanges were almost equal. Each man planted severe blows, and Turner was undermost when they wrestled for a fall. It was not until the twelfth round that he succeeded in throwing Scroggins. In the following round Turner landed a blow which sent his opponent almost spinning, but the sailorman did not take advantage of it to fall, but dashed in again with commendable pluck. Turner was now a hot favourite. 57 He was knocked down in the next round, but not heavily. He was quick and agile at close quarters, though a bad wrestler; and he generally managed to put in a series of fierce half-arm blows before Scroggins could hold him. The seventeenth round was interesting, as it gave an instance of the same kind of temper in Scroggins, remarkable in Humphries when he fought Mendoza, the Jew. Turner gave him a mighty hit in the face which must have hurt him considerably. He turned round, not from the force of the blow, but in real fear, the instinctive desire to get away—even to run away, out of reach. And then, even as he turned, Jack Scroggins remembered himself, swung right round in his stride and dashed at his adversary again. As they came together Turner hit him unmercifully, but was yet again underneath when they fell to the ground.

And so the fight went on, Scroggins invariably getting the worst of the exchange of blows, Turner the wrestling. The twenty-second was a tremendous round. They began with a furious rally, giving blow for blow with all their might, got away from each other in a moment, and then at it again. Scroggins charged in with his head down, and Turner met him with a vicious uppercut which caught him on the neck; and then, in trying for a fall, was und............