It is not generally known that a Mr. William Thompson was once Champion of England. Sometimes a nickname will stick to a man much harder than the name of his father, and so it was with Thompson. He was one of a triplet, called, in and out of the family, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. This last, “Thormanby” tells us, soon became “Bednego,” of which “Bendigo,”—a much easier word to say—is the natural corruption. To start with, Thompson tried to maintain the full “Abednego,” and advertised himself as a boxer under that nom de guerre in Bell’s Life. Jem Belcher left his name to a particular sort of scarf. “Jack Johnson,” a variety of heavy German shell, is at least as well-known as the negro champion, and thousands of people must know of Bendigo, a town in Australia, who never heard of Bendigo, the prize-fighter.

Bendigo was a Nottingham man, born in 1812, and his first battle took place in 1835. This was with Ben Caunt, with whom he fought in all three times. He was, as champion heavy-weights go, a middle-sized man, 5 feet 9¾ inches in height, and his weight was generally somewhere in the neighbourhood of twelve stone. He was an all-round athlete, a fair cricketer and an acrobat: he was also a most scientific boxer, plucky, and a terribly hard hitter: but his methods were foul. In his first fight with Caunt his dodge—to which he was ever faithful in after years—was to hit and then directly there were signs of possible retaliation to slip down, as plausibly as possible, to avoid punishment. Going down without a blow was a foul by the rules: but on the whole Bendigo was wonderfully lucky in his referees. Caunt lost his temper after a time, and dashing across the ring, hit Bendigo whilst still on his second’s knees. That was a foul that no referee could by any conceivable possibility overlook, and Caunt was “deemed the loser.”

Three years later they met again, and this time Caunt won on a foul. This Ben Caunt also came from Nottingham; a huge fellow of 6 feet 2½ inches, weighing well over 15 stone in condition, and much more than that out of it. He had enormous bat-like ears which stood out on his head as do the handles of a cup. In the second fight he showed himself an inferior boxer to Bendigo: but his size and strength enabled him, in a close, to seize his opponent and almost to squeeze the breath out of his body. So far as hitting went, Bendigo had the better of it, and towards the end of the fight, which lasted for seventy-five rounds, the betting on him was 3-1. In the last round, however, he fell without a blow. His supporters declared that he had slipped and that throughout he had been handicapped by not having his proper fighting shoes. Caunt’s people, however, appealed to the referee, who gave it a foul, and Caunt was, therefore, declared the winner. There were many roughs about the ringside, mostly partisans of Bendigo, and Caunt had to be mounted on a horse and ride almost for his life to escape them.

Bendigo’s next fight was with Deaf Burke, and it took place near Appleby in Warwickshire, on February 12th, 1839. Bendigo was in first-rate condition, whilst his opponent looked pale and flabby. A diverting incident marked the preliminary arrangements, for there appeared at the ringside a “not unlikely woman,” as Bell’s Life calls her, a friend of the “Deaf ‘un,” who shook hands with him over the ropes and remained in that position of vantage throughout the battle.

Bendigo fought right foot foremost and in a rather stooping position, whilst Burke’s attitude was more orthodox but a little too square, judged by the standard of Belcher and Spring. The man who stands square to his antagonist offers a bigger target, and it has been reckoned from the beginning of the nineteenth century that “edgeways on” is the better mode.

The first round was a good one. Both fought carefully and hit hard. Bendigo’s left was straight and true, and the exchange of blows was equal. They closed at the end and both went down together. The second set-to was much the same, though it was noticed that Burke breathed the more heavily. In the next round, however, Bendigo went ahead, hitting again and again without a return. Burke seemed to be almost paralysed, unable either to defend himself or to hit back. His left eye was closed and at the end of the round, when Bendigo threw and fell on him, he was evidently feeling ill. He was much marked, whilst Bendigo was quite fresh and with hardly a flush to show that he had been hit. The fourth round was similarly Bendigo’s. Burke fought with dogged pluck, but was clearly out of condition. His seconds shouted to him to go in and fight, and he did his best, but his opponent’s straight and well-judged blows came and returned to the same bad eye and battered nose. Finally Bendigo stepped back rather too quickly, tripped against the lower rope, and fell out of the ring.

Ill-trained men can often fight with pluck, and Burke did this now, but his self-confidence had gone. He hesitated about leading, and whilst making up his mind Bendigo hit him and closed. A little later Burke took a nip from the brandy bottle, but this did him no good. In the seventh round he began by fighting hard, hitting left and right, but was finally thrown. He now accused his man of butting him, and anxiously appealed to the umpire, but no question of foul play had arisen. Bendigo had jerked his head back as he flung Burke down, and had not, as a fact, touched him. Burke was thrown in the eighth round and knocked down in the ninth. The tenth round was the last. Burke was now desperate. He rushed in, got close to his man, and hit with both hands, but he got more in return than he gave. Again he charged at his opponent, forcing him to the ropes, and whilst pinned with his back against them Burke deliberately butted Bendigo with his head. Jem Ward, who was seconding the victim, claimed a foul, which was allowed. Deaf Burke’s umpire could not deny the justice of the decision; so Bendigo was proclaimed the winner after twenty-four minutes’ fighting. There seems to be no doubt that Burke butted openly with this very end in view of being disqualified, so that an end could be made of a battle for which he had lost all taste.