Talking Fancy

In a comment on my post last week, Marissa mentioned boxing cant, a colorful language that developed out of early nineteenth century pugilism. I wanted to follow up on that as well as my post. But first a little praise is due.

When I was writing my book, The Bluestocking on His Knee, I wanted my hero to box. I did some initial research, but I was drawing a blank, so I appealed to that bastion of all early nineteenth century knowledge, my colleagues in the Beau Monde, the Romance Writers of America Special Interest Chapter for Regency-set romances. A woman named Kate McMurry willingly shared volumes of research with me, and I will be forever grateful. I dedicated the book, and now this post, to her.

So, for a little more on what the boys were doing at Gentleman Jackson’s, here’s a piece, courtesy of Kate, from Vincent Dowling, editor of Bell’s Life (a gentleman’s sporting magazine), talking about boxing at Gentleman Jackson’s:

Here all the elite of the of fashionable world were daily assembled; noblemen and gentlemen of the highest rank did not disdain to take the gloves with the accomplished Jackson. . . In these associations there was none of the finnikin foppery [don’t you love it!] of modern times; there was no apprehensions of the derangement of well-cured locks or pretty faces; men, and noblemen too, met foot to foot and fist to fist, regardless of consequence, dealing such blows at each other’s heads as often deprived them of momentary sensation.

Sounds like a bunch of lads, doesn’t it?

Of course, those lads had a sound all their own. When playing at boxing, they often used boxing cant. The purpose of boxing cant isn’t much different than jargon and acronyms that litter professional disciplines today. Being able to speak in this special language indicated you were in the know, you belonged, you GOT it. And just in case you didn’t, but wanted to pretend that you did, a helpful chap named Pierce Egan starting publishing a series of books called Boxiana in 1812 that explained everything you could want to know about the fine art of boxing.

According to historians, boxing cant was a combination of technical sporting terms, cockney, and slang used by the criminal underworld. Here’s a few of the terms:

• The Fancy—those who took a fancy to a particular sport, from the boxers themselves to the umpires and those who thronged the matches. Today, we might use the word “fan.”



• Out-and-Outer—the perfect example of his kind



• A Cross—a fixed fight



• Chucker Outer—someone who cleared the ring after a prize fight



• Cove—a common gentleman.

You may notice some similarity between boxing cant and thieves cant, which the heroine Kim uses at first in Mairelon the Magician. Marissa and I can hardly wait to talk to you more about it next week. Make sure you’re here on Tuesday, when Marissa calls to order the first meeting of the Young Bluestockings Book Club!

Where the Boys Are: Learning Boxing from a Gentleman

Marissa and I tend to focus on what a gently bred young lady in nineteenth century England would be doing in various areas of her life. Makes sense—we are both gently bred ladies absolutely obsessed with the nineteenth century! However, another of your excellent suggestions for Nineteen Teen was to have us talk about the boys once in a while. So, today’s post inaugurates a new occasional series focusing on the life of a young gentleman. We intend to talk about those institutions and past times of keen interest to these gentlemanly lads, so who better to start us of then the Gentleman of Gentlemen himself: Gentleman Jackson.

“Gentleman” John Jackson was born in 1769 to a Worcestershire family of builders, but he decided at age 19 to become a boxer, much against his parents' wishes. At 5 feet 11 inches tall and 195 pounds, his body was said to be so perfectly developed (with the early nineteenth century ideal of "perfection" being the classical statues of the Greek gods), that artists and sculptors came from all around to use him as a model. He dressed well (although he favored bright colors) and spoke in cultured tones, making him the darling of the aristocracy. He was the acknowledged king of the boxing ring, although he actually only fought professionally three times, loosing once. Of course, as the other two times he fought men who were considered the top champions, he was considered in his time the heavy-weight boxing champion of England. He is credited with a scientific style of boxing, which he taught three times a week during the London Season from his rooms in No. 13 Bond Street.


And that’s where you’d find any aspiring young gentleman. They came to learn from him, and they came to try their hand at besting each other. Even Lord Byron was an avid student. Gentleman Jackson taught them to use nimble footwork and judge the distance between fist and target to achieve the most impact. They fought with slightly bent bodies, head and shoulders forward, and knees slightly bent and at ease with fists well up. He believed that that fighting with the entire body (what we might call street fighting) was ineffective against the power of a well-trained fist, proving his point by having his students attempt to attack him and fending them off with fists alone.

So our young lads of sixteen and up might be found hanging about the Gentleman’s boxing emporium, coats off, hands wrapped in mufflers (absorbent material wrapped around the hands—the forerunner of today’s boxing gloves, having a go at each other. You can see them in the above picture. The fellow with his back closest to us is the Gentleman himself. An enterprising young fellow is also weighing himself on the scales for pugilists. However, while they lark about at the emporium and even spare with the Gentleman, few would fight professionally.

Which is probably just as well. Professional boxing matches in the nineteenth century were far less civilized from what we have today. Even though true boxing gloves were invented in the late 1700s, they weren’t used. Up until the Marquess of Queensberry drew up the boxing rules in 1867, the fights could be brutal and long, sometimes going over 100 rounds! And you were allowed to hit your opponent anywhere on the body, gouge at his eyes, and pull his hair if you liked.

Now, that’s not very gentlemanly!