were to emerge that would attempt to redefine the aims of boxing and they would be codified as a list of do’s and don’ts of the most extraordinary priggishness.
Despite the fact that the Queensberry Rules have (except in the higher reaches of the sport) taken root, the bare-knuckle tradition is obstinately embedded in the noble art. Certainly, there is evidence that prizefights under the Queensberry Rules take place as early as 1872, but the sea change in the sport only comes in 1891, when the first world championship is fought under the new regime. Until then, bouts took place both with the ‘raw ‘uns’ and the ‘mauleys’ in equal measure.
Boxing and drinking also went hand in hand and with the rapid development of railways the coaching inn was becoming a thing of the past. This simple fact liberated useful spaces where clandestine fights could be held and the innkeepers became, in effect, the first promoters and matchmakers of the sport. They also established another dubious tradition: they also became the first bookmakers. Inshort, the sport of illegal boxing, if we can call it that, fell into the effective control of the country’s pub landlords.
For George Cooper, this was a pity, as it seems that he was becoming something of a black sheep of the family. To say that he was a scamp would be something of an understatement. Perhaps the loss of his mother affected him; certainly he would until his death lose no opportunity to produce, at the drop of a hat, any or all of the songs and verses which stepmother Bridget had patiently taught him and it became clear that he had also inherited an extremely fine voice.
He became (like his stepbrother Charles) a fine judge of horseflesh but these passions of his – singing, fighting and horses – all served to ensure that he was never far from a pub. He seems to have been a bright and quick-witted man, as he certainly had an ability to make plenty of money as a horse-coper, and was able to earn useful sums as a fighter and minder, a furniture porter and even as a semi-professional singer-songwriter, but it also seems that money rather burned a hole in his pocket. After a successful deal, commission or bout he would quite often drop from sight for days on end on a series of giant benders. He was not, it must be said, much of a saver.
But he had some interesting adventures. Family tradition has it that in 1883, one of his first jobs as a horse-keeper arrived, and it was an important one, to accompany a string of thoroughbred horses on their delivery to, ultimately, St Petersburg. In the days when men of his background went abroad only on military service, it must have been quite an experience. Naturally, he managed to become involved in a fight along the way.Fighting was part of the fabric of society in nineteenth-century London, as it was in most metropolitan areas. Disputes would be settled face to face, man to man, without the services of the law in any form, neither attorney nor police. The level of street violence was colossal and it had become bone-deep in the culture, but there was never any suggestion that George was anything but a law-abiding citizen, save for the fact that he boxed, which, as we have seen, was technically illegal. Certainly, he appears not to have attracted the attention of the authorities.
But he comes down to us as an interesting man. He married, at an undetermined date, but certainly by the end of the century, a formidable Walworth lady by the name of Elizabeth Lindo, who had been born in 1862 and was thus two years older. She needed to be formidable, in fact, simply to put up with him, as he did not change his bachelor habits one iota. In her way, she was as tough as he was and the pair of them would cheerfully fight shoulder to shoulder against all comers; an unorthodox way of bonding, but clearly successful, as they stayed together until George’s death. Her grandson recalled some of the family tales handed down to him: ‘In those
Despite the fact that the Queensberry Rules have (except in the higher reaches of the sport) taken root, the bare-knuckle tradition is obstinately embedded in the noble art. Certainly, there is evidence that prizefights under the Queensberry Rules take place as early as 1872, but the sea change in the sport only comes in 1891, when the first world championship is fought under the new regime. Until then, bouts took place both with the ‘raw ‘uns’ and the ‘mauleys’ in equal measure.
Boxing and drinking also went hand in hand and with the rapid development of railways the coaching inn was becoming a thing of the past. This simple fact liberated useful spaces where clandestine fights could be held and the innkeepers became, in effect, the first promoters and matchmakers of the sport. They also established another dubious tradition: they also became the first bookmakers. Inshort, the sport of illegal boxing, if we can call it that, fell into the effective control of the country’s pub landlords.
For George Cooper, this was a pity, as it seems that he was becoming something of a black sheep of the family. To say that he was a scamp would be something of an understatement. Perhaps the loss of his mother affected him; certainly he would until his death lose no opportunity to produce, at the drop of a hat, any or all of the songs and verses which stepmother Bridget had patiently taught him and it became clear that he had also inherited an extremely fine voice.
He became (like his stepbrother Charles) a fine judge of horseflesh but these passions of his – singing, fighting and horses – all served to ensure that he was never far from a pub. He seems to have been a bright and quick-witted man, as he certainly had an ability to make plenty of money as a horse-coper, and was able to earn useful sums as a fighter and minder, a furniture porter and even as a semi-professional singer-songwriter, but it also seems that money rather burned a hole in his pocket. After a successful deal, commission or bout he would quite often drop from sight for days on end on a series of giant benders. He was not, it must be said, much of a saver.
But he had some interesting adventures. Family tradition has it that in 1883, one of his first jobs as a horse-keeper arrived, and it was an important one, to accompany a string of thoroughbred horses on their delivery to, ultimately, St Petersburg. In the days when men of his background went abroad only on military service, it must have been quite an experience. Naturally, he managed to become involved in a fight along the way.Fighting was part of the fabric of society in nineteenth-century London, as it was in most metropolitan areas. Disputes would be settled face to face, man to man, without the services of the law in any form, neither attorney nor police. The level of street violence was colossal and it had become bone-deep in the culture, but there was never any suggestion that George was anything but a law-abiding citizen, save for the fact that he boxed, which, as we have seen, was technically illegal. Certainly, he appears not to have attracted the attention of the authorities.
But he comes down to us as an interesting man. He married, at an undetermined date, but certainly by the end of the century, a formidable Walworth lady by the name of Elizabeth Lindo, who had been born in 1862 and was thus two years older. She needed to be formidable, in fact, simply to put up with him, as he did not change his bachelor habits one iota. In her way, she was as tough as he was and the pair of them would cheerfully fight shoulder to shoulder against all comers; an unorthodox way of bonding, but clearly successful, as they stayed together until George’s death. Her grandson recalled some of the family tales handed down to him: ‘In those
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