THE AUSTRALIAN RING.

NZ Truth, Issue 437, 8 November 1913, Page 8

THE AUSTRALIAN RING.

MISCENCES AND RECORDS. (By "Boxer Major. , o Copyright : Ail Rights Reserved by the Author. ■ ' * (CHAPTER XvX>

I am indebted to Mr. William Sher- 1 rard, ,of the Orange district, for his kindness m calling upon mc to con- j vey further interesting information concerning one who occupied, a high place among the ring heroes of the past, anfi jvhose name has. frequently appeared m former chapters. This is Paddy Sinclair, the convict barber and ex-Derwenter. Mr. Sherrard tells me that Sinclair kept a barber's shop m Little Bourke-street West, Melbourne, from 1863 to 1870, and that bo had displayed m his shop window the championship belt given him by his admirers after his second defeat of Bill Sparkes, It would probably be from there that poor old Paddy was taken to the mental sanatorium, as mentioned m •a previous chapter. Another correspondent throws light on the extraordinary and unaccountfoil from form of Bill Sparkes, so soon after his magnificent per•forxnance against Nat Langham m England. He informs me that it •was not the superiority of Paddy Sinclair tiiat beat Bill, so much &s the fact that he not only fractured j bis. arm, m a fall, during hie his? torical fight with Langham, but he broke his hands so badly, as to renr j der /them practically useless ever J after. They would crack to pieces ! with the first heavy blow Bill land- ; cd on a bony, portion of bis antagon- I ist's anatomy. This is valuable m- j formation, and settles a matter that ; has puzzled many a lover of a good | scrap, arid many an admirer of a good man. To continue on our recording way. I Probably what finally settled j [ knuckle-fighting and relegated it to ; the limbo of the past, was a painful | totality that occurred ' "at the back \ ot Randwidc," at what is now the j Kensington racecourse was then col- j loquially known, one sunny Autumn ; Sunday morning m April. ISB4. . A j well-known ficure m the fistic world j of those days was natty little j Jimmy Lawson, a mulatto lightweight. I^awson was a frequent performer with the gloves at Foley's m tho days when the scraps used to be fought m the cellar of the White Horse Hotel, before Larry built the ball at the back. A white boxer named Alex. Agar was -also m evidence at the time, and Lawson and Agar had met once or twice with th© mitts, m limited-rounds spars, but arrived at no finality; and some of the fancy felt that it was up to the pair to find out which was the better man. So they matched them for £25 aside to fight with bare knuckles. There was a considerable muster of sports that lovely morning, and at the ringside were men who are m big positions to-day, and would hate for their friends m high places, and i the rector and his lady, and all such ( of the elect, to know that they were parties to a Sunday prizefight that had a fatal ending. . What a stir m the dovecots of the' (self) righteous there would be if I were to publish j a list of the names of those who stood around that ring. A less considerate man would do it, and sit back and enjoy tho circus 1 Among those present was a policeman who was so fond of the gamo as to forget what was due to his position as a guardian of tljo law. He was only following m the footsteps of many a good copman before him; for how often did, not ono only, but a posse of police, sent out to hunt down, arrest and disperse, m the palmy days of the ring, join tbe crowd at the hempen enclosure, carried away, lost to a sense of duty, by that delight that every red-blood-

ed man who is not a Wowseristic hypocrite- ieels at the sight of a good fight. Unfortunately, as has been forecasted; this - particular contest ended m a tragedy. They had not been* fighting many minutes when Lawson landed a heavy right-hander ou the temple, andy-Agar went to mother earthy with a thud. Aias, mother earth "was soon to enfold him m her gracious, gentle, peaceful bosom forever. . The poor fellow did n6t come to, 'and the crowd scattered m terror, all . except a faithful few, who carried* Agar to the hospital, where life was found to be extinct. He died from an. effusion of blood on the brain. The policeman's presence became known to his superior officers and his finish seemed to be grinning at him maliciously, when, at the inquest, and subsequently at tbe trial of Lawson for manslaughter, his name. cropped up, but actual witnesses were scarce, the law could pnly get hold of those honest hearts who practically gave themselves up by carrying the dead man ofT the field; -and they were loyalY One witness was Lawson's second, a boxer who became quite famous subsequently, and he was heckled by Crown Prosecutor and police officer to get him to admit that he had seen that policeman at the ringside. But they couldn't move him. He was,- adamant on -that point; was color, blind that morning, so to speak, and at last he swore positively: that the constable m question Was not among those who watched the fight. , That let Mr. Cop out, and it was as v well for the State as for him, because . he rose to be ' one of the most useful; officers m. the New South Wales Force, and at this day holds high rank and is universally respected. Such are the workings of Fate and a little justifiable perjury. . . , Lawson left Australia for some time, but returned, and I often saw him spar at Foley's Hall m 1888-S. He was a beautiful mover, with a remarkably good guard and a great punch m either hand. It was a joy to watch his graceful, easy approach, quick hit, and lightning getaway. He vanished again when Foley's place was marked for destruction, and I have never heard of Jimmy Lawson from that period to this. There were certainly other knuckle fights afterwards, but they were rare 1 indeed. The most notable was that between Paddy Slavin and Martin Power at Qympie, Queensland. Slavin waa a six-footer and Power was only sft. 6in., and scaled under ten stone. It was not much of a test of a man's possibilities, and yet It was enough to put Slavin on the road to fame and fortune. Power was a man of splendid muscular development and a fine boxer; but no lightweight could hope to successfully oppose Francis Patrick Slavin, who was one of the finest men I ever clapped eyes on; and naturally Paddy won, m, if memory serves me right, thirteen rounds. I sow Power some years afterwards m Sydney. He struck the town dead broke and begged Larry Foley to give him a fight at the White Horse. Larry asked the late Jim Burge, the man I nicknamed "Ironbark Jim," which monnikor stuck to him all round the world when he toured it, if he'd meet Pp-wor, and Burge readily agreed. I took a great deal of interest m Martin, as he was a very decent, quiet-spoken young man, and one that suggested by his development and rugged strength that he might heat Burge, whose invulnerableness was getting on people's nerves. Many a promising young boxer broke his hands on Jim's ironbark face and head, I little knew tho terrible Btraits to which Power was reduced, or things might have been dUlerent. It transpired afterwards that t.v>« man was penniless and stari ving; and tbe fool was too proud to tell me or anybody else. He made a good show against Burge, and that was tho occasion of my last bet on a fight. I wagered a sovereign on Power, impressed -by bis I muscle, his superior science, nnd weight, nnd his reputation, with n-y friend, Syd Broomfield, who sat mxt to me at tho ringside. Power was beaten through sheer weakness m olght rounds, and I paid over spot cash. Then Syd did a characteristic thin?. He jumped out of his «eat, battled his way round to Poww's comer — the ring waa on th* floor level m those days — and stuffed his winnings into Power's hand. Martin Power was another who did the r»in. ishing trick. He left Sydney with tho bit he got out of the fight and I never saw him again. We had a knucklo fight m Sydney m later years. Chiddy Ryan and Ginger Toohey were the principals. It arose out of a quarrel, and Too- i hey. while acknowledging Ryan's superiority: with tho gloves on; boards, offered tc* take him on with the bare >bonea. A wager was made and the pair met out Botany way. ! It was looked upon as a cinch for Chiddy, who was one of the most perfect masters of science who ever pulled on a glove; and so it would havo been if Master Ginger had stood np to him; Chiddy would have cut him to pieces without being touched himself. But the brother of clover, hard-hitting and game littlo PcU-r Toohey knew a trick worth two of that. He never let Ryan get near him. Thero was no ring, and OlnKcr hacked and side-stopped and ponernlly got away, so carefully nnd successfully thot they tramned down nearly an acre of gnaw end bracken In their .peregrinations; and. at the end of an hour and a-holf. when moHt of tho spwtators bud gone awny In distrust, it waa n^r-v-d to draw th? »tak<i» nnd the whole thing, which mado a jrreat stir at the time, ended m a fiasco. Chiddy Itynn wns tho maddest man m AustrttltA thnt night « i Writing of Ryan, brings to mind i th« henutiful uptix* he nurd u> put up with Grirto, the boxing marvel of the ne.es ! They didn't want any twenty-two foot ring for their displays. You never saw Ryan or GHf-