Last of the Pugilists

Encouraged by his father’s recollections Jerry Glover uncovers the career of a

forgotten sporting hero from the brutal underworld of Victorian prizefighting...

Ever since I was a lad my dad claimed we were descended from a bare-knuckle boxing
champion of England, which if you saw the size of my fists you would find hard to believe.
Dad said how his grandmother told how she saw her grandfather, this pugilistic champion,
having his wounds tended to in her kitchen. Then there was the lovely image of how he
rubbed sheeps urine into his cracked knuckles to toughen the skin.

Nothing more was known about him though, and it wasn’t until dad eventually
mentioned the name Paulson or Poulson and I started Googling it along with boxing terms
that I discovered there was such a person who had lived in Nottingham, my birthplace. His
name was Harry Paulson.1 He was described in an obituary as ‘One of the best behaved
and most gallant boxers who ever lived, and had he been brought out sooner would no
doubt have become Champion of England.’

While it was exciting to have our few snippets of oral history apparently reflected by a
published source there was a lot to do before I could put together the story of how we were
related, if that was indeed the case.

The 1901 census showed that my fifteen year-old Great-Grandmother, Beatrice

Paulson, was living with James Paulson who was fifty-two years old. James, I
presupposed, would have been the son of Harry. On the 1861 census I found the
household of Henry Paulson, and there was a son called James, just making it onto the
census at one year old. Great! The only problem was that he was twelve years too young.
There was only one other James Paulson living in Nottingham at this time, but his father
was a William Paulson, not Harry. Although I didn’t want to believe it, the evidence was
there, and it did not show Harry Paulson as my ancestor. Very disappointing.

While puzzling this over (and having spent all my credits on www.findmypast.com) I
continued to assemble the career of Harry Paulson. Modern library-available books on the
pre-Queensbury Rules era downplayed or omitted him and old boxing books are scarce
and expensive. Internet booksellers2 turned up a few more books with Paulson references.

1 www.newarkadvertiser.co.uk/warner/warner92.htm

2 www.abebooks.com
A couple were willing to photocopy the relevant details, and for a small sum I had new
information, plus a portrait. The library at Nottingham provided another portrait from
Harry’s twilight years. With a few well-placed points of enquiry I had the broad strokes of
his entire life.

Harry was born in Newark in 1819. After moving to Nottingham as a boy, he grew up
to be a ballast heaver on the canals, building the ‘Herculean’ frame he was known for. His
first ‘real encounter’ was with James Cummings in 1850 for £5 a side. Harry won in only
two rounds, putting him on the path to four tremendous prizefights that would seal his
reputation. The first three were against Tom Paddock of Redditch, beginning on
September 23, 1851 for £25 a side at Sedgebrook, near Grantham. After an hour and
thirty-five minutes the entrance to the ring of a constable caused Paddock to flee thereby
forfeiting the contest. A rematch was arranged for December 16 near Belper, Derbyshire at
which eight-six rounds were fought before law officials from three counties unwisely
attempted to stop the fight. Jedediah Strutt, a magistrate, attempted to force his way into
the ring and read the Riot Act, provoking a full-blown riot involving over a thousand men.
Strutt was beaten with sticks by ‘about fifty roughs.’ The pugilists, their seconds and
referee were apprehended (Paulson was found hidden in a “drag”). At the trial on March
16, 1852, the prisoners pleaded guilty to the misdemeanour of riotously assembling to
disturb the peace, but not to the felony of assault. The prosecutor, who “prompted by a
feeling of mercy” did not pursue the felony charge, remarked that had they been tried and
found guilty of the felony they would have been liable to transportation for life. As it was,
Paulson and Paddock each received ten months hard labour in Derby Gaol. (Mark Young
at Derby Library found all the contemporary newspaper accounts and the Sentences of the
Prisoners.) The Victorian records of Derby Gaol do not survive, but hard labour in a
Victorian prison meant much the same everywhere: picking oakum, pointlessly turning a
crank, ‘climbing the wooden hill’ (treadmill). Cold, futile, painful torments.

More Googling led to specialist boxing memorabilia dealers3 and after a brisk
negotiation via email for more photocopying I secured source details of Harry’s career from
Pugilistica, an exhaustive ‘Wisden of fisticuffs.’ Extremely rare Victorian periodicals such
as the Police Budget Edition of Famous Fights from 1901 proved to be copiously illustrated
with engravings. After thinking I’d be fortunate to find a single image of Harry here was
over a dozen engravings taken from his most famous fights. An unbelievable find! The
material on Harry’s life was piling up to the neglect of my genealogical research. Every

3 http://hometown.aol.com/cmoyle/myhomepage/index.html

Last of the Pugilists page 2

thrilling discovery was tinged with the concern that I hadn’t yet found all the links in my
ancestry.

I phoned my Aunty Betty, who suggested I wrote to her sister, Aunty Irene. Talking to
long-lost Aunties about bare-knuckle boxing ancestors is a strange experience... Aunty
Irene had also researched her grandmother Beatrice. Her birth certificate showed her to
be the daughter of James Paulson. His birth certificate cross-confirmed what I found on
the census: that William Paulson was Beatrice’s grandfather, not Harry. Not wanted I
wanted to see. But I knew William was born in Newark in 1817, just two years earlier and
in the same town as Harry. William was also a brewer, the same trade as Harry’s father.
Could William and Harry be brothers, so that when Beatrice lived with the other James
Paulson around 1901 had she had grown up thinking her great-uncle Harry was her
grandfather? The online census records could not show a link between William and Harry
so I needed the evidence of common parents for both boys by other means...

A few months after being released Paulson and Paddock again went up to scratch
against each other. Harry was defeated two and a half hours later. On January 28, 1856,
in Appledore, Kent Harry faced his toughest opponent, the Brighton champion Tom Sayers.
Harry was by now supporting a wife and four children, so the £200 prize would have been
very valuable. The battle was a 109-round, three-hour epic. Pugilistica records that by the
end ‘The game fellow [Harry] tried once more to effect a lodgement, but missed, his head
came forward and Tom delivered the coup de grâce by a heavy right-hander on the jaw,
which again knocked the veteran off his legs, and on being taken up he was found to be
deaf to the call of “Time.” He recovered in a few minutes and shed bitter tears of
disappointment at the unsatisfactory and unexpected termination of his labours.’ A win
would have given him the Heavyweight Championship of All-England but it was not to be.
Sayers later fought for the world championship and lost. Harry partially recovered his
reputation with another win against Harry Tyson in only forty-nine rounds.

I was always dreading an eye-squinting baptism record search in a dim church crypt
for the parents of William and Harry. But no! The pre-1840 Newark baptism records are
microfiched at the Nottinghamshire Archives4 where staff will respond quickly with their
archival references provided you supply as much district and dateline information as you
can. The truth I suspected came through: both children were the sons of George and
Elizabeth Paulson. The same father was also corroborated on the marriage documents. I
had my prizefighting ancestor.

4 www.nottinghamshire.gov.uk/home/leisure/archives.htm
 In 1890, after years of poverty relieved by benefit exhibitions against mystery men
such as ‘Fatty’ Gooding at the long-gone Exhibition Building in Nottingham, Harry died at
his eldest daughter’s house in Sneinton. An obituary called him a ‘formidable gladiator’,
adding, ‘Although one of the most inoffensive men that ever lived, he had the heart of a
lion, and his gameness was extraordinary.’

When he was a boy men would shake my dad’s hand because of the family
connection. For the females in the family, however, it may well have been a source of
shame, not pride: running away from the law, the brutal fights where men were touted and
priced like game-birds, prison. Not the kinds of memories you wanted to pass down to your
grandchildren, and I detected an initial reticence from my dad about some of our
discoveries. What we know now has brought us closer though, and deepened my sense
of belonging to a wider family, including living relatives I had no previous contact with. I’m
proud as well to put the deeds of my remarkable prizefighting ancestor back up where they
belong!

Jerry writes for many publications, and has devised and produced numerous shows
for radio and television. He can be reached at jerryvglover@gmail.com

Special thanks to William Bell (Nottinghamshire Archives), Peter Hedge (bookseller), Clay
Moyle (boxing connoisseur), Harry Shaffer (boxing connoisseur & archivist), Mr T. Warner
(Newark Library), Mark Young (Derby Library).

BOXOUT 1 - BACKGROUND

Since the Regency era bare-fisted prizefighting was the exclusive entertainment of men, its
backers and spectators comprising gamblers, drinkers, aristocrats, politicians, and gangs
of rogues like the ‘Nottingham Lambs’. Serious fights were arranged in secret in pubs and
London sporting dens such as Limmer’s Hotel (home of the Corinthians and the Tom
Collins cocktail) with articles being drawn up and purses staked. The police were always
looking to disperse proceedings so fights were often rearranged to elude them. In many
ways prizefights were the illegal rave parties of their times.

Last of the Pugilists page 4

BOXOUT 2 - THE NOTTINGHAM PUGILISTS

William ‘Bendigo’ Thompson trained and seconded Harry at several of his fights.
Bendigo’s brilliant fighting career and eccentric character have passed into legend. The
excellent biography Bold As A Lion tells how Harry was with Bendigo as he lay dying.
Bendigo asked ‘Harry, will you meet me in heaven?” Harry replied, “No, I’m too bad.”
Bendigo inspired popular songs, including one by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. His only defeat
was at the hands of ‘Big’ Ben Caunt, who after becoming the All-England Champion in
1848 kept the Coach & Horses inn on St. Martin’s Lane, London where Harry stayed the
before his match against Sayers. Bendigo’s gym still survives in the Forest Tavern,
Mansfield Road, Nottingham, where his brother John Ellis was proprietor.

MARGIN NOTES

The London Prize Ring Rules were drafted by Jack Broughton in 1743. They determined that
rounds would only end when a man went down, which he could voluntarily do by dropping on
one knee. Contests went on as long as the boxers could come “up to scratch”, the chalk line at
the centre of the ring within eight seconds. Wrestling throws, holds (and sometimes foot-
stamping) were allowed, and no more than thirty seconds rest between rounds. These rules
were revised and expanded to be more ‘gentlemanly’ in 1838 and 1853, until around 1861 they
were incorporated with and superseded by the Marquess of Queensbury Rules. These
prevented wrestling, clinches, limited rounds to three minutes duration, and defined the use of
gloves. They marked the transition from the bare-fisted pugilistic era to the modern era of
boxing where fights are to be won ‘by the rules’ not ‘at any cost.’

Out of print books and periodicals can be expensive, but some booksellers will photocopy
what you need provided you know what you are looking for. For online dealers, a Paypal
account is often preferred for a fast, secure transaction.

Librarians at local studies libraries can be very helpful indeed. But beware of swamping
them with too many requests, especially those at the larger city libraries where more
enquiries are received, or you may not get a reply!

CONTACT
Nottingham Local Studies Library
Central Library
Angel Row
Nottingham
[t] 0115 915 2873
[e] local_studies.library@nottinghamcity.gov.uk

Nottinghamshire Archives
County House
Castle Meadow Road
Nottingham
NG2 1AG

[t] 0115 950 4524

[e] archives@nottscc.gov.uk
[w] www.nottinghamshire.gov.uk/archives

East Nottinghamshire Group

County Library
Beaumond Gardens
Baldertongate
Newark
NG24 1UV

[t] 01636 703 966

Derby Local Studies Library

25B Irongate
Derby
DE1 3GL

[t] 01332 255393

[w] www.derby.gov.uk

WEBSITES

Antiquities of the Prize Ring (c/o Harry Shaffer)

Last of the Pugilists page 6

[w] www.antekprizering.com
[e] antekprizering@earthlink.net

Prizefighting Books (c/o Clay Moyle)

[w] http://hometown.aol.com/cmoyle/myhomepage/index.html
[e] cmoyle@aol.com

FURTHER READING

Prizefighting, The Age of Regency Boximania, John Ford, 1971, ISBN 071535325X

Bold as a Lion - The Life of Bendigo, Champion of England, J.P. Bean, 2002, ISBN
09507645

Tom Sayers, The Last Great Bare-Knuckle Champion, Alan Wright, 1994, ISBN
0863329292

Capital Punishments, Crime and Prison Conditions in Victorian Times, Steve Jones, 1992,
ISBN 187000003X

Victorian Prison Lives, Philip Priestly, 1985, ISBN 0712665870

PUGILISTICA: being one hundred and forty-four years of the history of British boxing, H.D.
Miles, 3 vols. 1880