From Slave to Immortal to Palooka: The Triumph and Tragedy of Tom Molineaux
In early 19th England, the boxing sub-culture was an arena of radical equality and meritocracy in a world that was otherwise socially stratified to the extreme. The members of the Fancy came from every tier of the society. Whether crowding around a prizefight, milling inside a sparring coven, or tossing back pints at a Public House owned by a notable pug, coal porters rubbed shoulders alongside members of Parliament. Pick pockets and stable hands might very well jostle against the sons of nobility.
In an era when Europe was only still slowly crawling toward democratic government and slavery was still a deeply entrenched way of life in much of North America, no realm but the British prize ring could have provided a heroic rise like the one experienced by Tom Molineaux.
The facts surrounding Molineaux’s early life are impossible to establish clearly. He was born as a slave in the United States — probably in 1784 and probably in Virginia. According to Molineaux’s own telling, he was born into a family of fighters. His father and brother were also boxers. The Molineaux men faced other slaves in bouts arranged to entertain their decadent white masters and provide opportunities for high-stakes gambling.
While early opponents of Mixed Martial Arts fighting, like John McCain, referred to MMA as “human cock fighting” for the purposes of sensationalizing their political stances, such casual language insults the true, lived experiences of slaves like Molineaux. Fights between slaves in 19th century America were in no way sport fighting, but instead a form of cruel exploitation, with the human combatants viewed as no different than fighting roosters or dogs.
However, for Molineaux, the experience did provide a launching pad toward international fame. At 5'8” and nearly 200 pounds of solid muscle, Molineaux was a rare athletic specimen. Eventually, he won so much money for his master that he was granted his freedom. He traveled to New York City, where he continued to earn his way with the only skills he possessed, engaging in waterfront brawls with winner-take-all bets.
There was no real competition for Molineaux in this arena. Sailors who Molineaux met informed him that there was only one place in the world for a prizefighter of his ability: England. In 1809, Molineaux arrived in London and quickly became a fixture in pubs and inns that were popular with the Fancy. He loudly proclaimed himself as the “Champion of America” and boasted that he would knockout the British Champion, Tom Cribb, if only Cribb would dare to face him.
Molineaux arrived in Britain during one of the greatest eras in the history of prizefighting, and Cribb remains among the greatest champions of all time. Unlike his contemporary, Jem Belcher, Cribb was not exactly a phenom. In fact, if Belcher had not lost sight in one eye while playing shuttlecock early in his career, Cribb might never have had the space to truly emerge as a superstar. As history played out, Cribb was the one of an amazing string of British champions: Tom Johnson, Richard Humpries, Daniel Mendoza, John Jackson, Jem Belcher, Henry Pearce, and finally, Cribb himself.
This string of heroes raised the status of boxing to beyond even what it had enjoyed during the era of Jack Broughton. And Cribb, more than any of the rest, became an icon for John Bull pride. Like Molineaux, he was a physical marvel, standing 5'10” and coming in at between 190 and 200 pounds of thick muscle and sinew. He had defeated a post-injury Belcher in 1807 and knocked Bob Gregson out in 1808 to earn universal recognition as the Champion of Britain.
By 1810, he was essentially retired, due to a lack of suitable opponents. The sudden appearance of an imposing, though entirely unknown, fighter from across the ocean very much raised the Fancy’s interest. The interest began to grow when Molineaux knocked out Jack Burrowes in less than one minute. Burrowes was a green fighter, but a pupil of Cribb’s.
Molineaux’s second fight in England was against one of the country’s top veteran fighters, “Tough” Tom Blake. Cribb, who had previously defeated Blake, served as his chief second for the fight. Molineaux hammered Blake, knocking him out in Round 8, after 17 minutes of one-sided brutality. According to the great contemporary boxing writer, Pierce Egan, Molineaux battered Blake so thoroughly, not a single one of his facial features was recognizable. To the members of the Fancy, it was clear: Cribb must return to the ring to face Molineaux.
While English fight fans were anxious to see Molineaux receive his fair shot at glory, they definitely did not view him as anything but an interloper and outsider. In 1810, the armies of Napoleon were raging across Europe, threatening even the great British empire. This moment of hyper-nationalism no doubt contributed substantially to the surging popularity of boxing, which the British viewed as their own sport. The ethics of boxing demanded that a worthy contender like Molineaux should receive a shot at the crown. But the pride of the English made them tremble over the possibility that he might win it.
A stranger in a strange land, Molineaux was fortunate to fall in with one of the great boxing figures of the age, Bill Richmond. Like Molineaux, Richmond was a black man born into slavery in North America, sometime before the American Revolution. As a teenager, he drew the attention of a British officer, who witnessed Richmond beating up a group of thugs. The officer hired Richmond to be his driver and later helped him move to England, where as a free man, Richmond pursued both book learning and further training as a prizefighter.
Weighing no more than 150 pounds, Richards was a consummate technician, using skill and guile to defeat larger men. In 1805, he had been defeated by Cribb, who out-weighed him by approximate 50 pounds. His rivalry with Cribb extended well beyond this fight, as Richmond would go on to second a number of Cribb’s next few opponents.
While Richmond and Molineaux shared some basic biographical facts, they were radically different people. Richmond’s natural demeanor had made him an attractive figure to upper-class fight fans. Like “Gentleman” John Jackson, Richmond ran a successful boxing academy, where he trained the sons of the aristocracy. Molineaux, by contrast, was a much rougher character. He was loud and boastful, given to drunken benders; his favorite companions were ladies of the night.
However, Richmond’s sharp eye recognized unlimited potential when he saw it. In Molineaux, he truly believed he had found the pupil who could be trained to defeat his previous conqueror. The work Richmond was able to accomplish with Molineaux between his British debut and his fight with Blake shocked the members of the Fancy. According to Egan: “the members of the Fancy were completely astonished at the improvement exhibited by Molineaux, and the punishment he dealt out was so truly tremendous, and his strength and bottom so superior, that he was deemed a proper match for the Champion.”
After two years of inactivity, Cribb had gained weight and slipped far out of top condition. To prepare for his challenger, he trusted himself to the care of Captain Robert Barclay. Barclay was an infantry officer and probably the greatest pedestrian in history. In 1809, he had walked 1000 miles in 1000 hours, to win a bet of 1000 guineas. The feat had attracted huge crowds and daily newspaper coverage, spurring huge side bets among sporting. As a result, Barclay one of the era’s great sporting stars.
Barclay was also a skilled amateur fighter. He brought Cribb far from the congested city to his home in the Scottish countryside. He put Cribb on a strict diet of grass fed beef and gruel made from oatmeal. He sent him on hours long hikes through the hills, alternated with sprints of a mile or less. He sparred with Cribb personally, strategizing for every potential scenario. The experience became the basis for Barclay’s still widely read Treatise on training fighters.
By fight day, Cribb was as lean and muscular as ever. On December 18, 1810, Cribb and Molineaux faced off at Copthorne Commons, about 30 miles from London. Torrential down pours had turned the road to the location into a knee-deep mud pit. But the conditions did nothing to keep the Fancy away.
The first round of the bout started slowly, with both men sizing each other up and failing to land big punches. But the pace gradually quickened and the two fell into a clinch. Both Molineaux and Cribb were noted as powerful wrestlers. Cribb tossed Molineaux to the ground, to record the first fall.
After that, the fight was a war. The two traded big punches in the second round, with a shot to Cribb’s mouth revealing the first signs of “claret.” In Round 5, the two stood in at close range, hammering away with multi-punch combinations. According to Egan’s eye-witness account, when Molineaux finally went down to end the frame, the ringside sporting men were momentarily too stunned to place bets.
And the fight was still just getting started. For 39 rounds and nearly a full hour, the two fought at an astonishing pace. Egan writes that at the start of Round 19, “to distinguish the combatants by their features would have been utterly impossible, so dreadfully were both their faces beaten.”
During this round, Molineaux trapped Cribb against the ropes in a headlock and prevented the champion from going down, as he pounded away at him. However, both men were now completely exhausted and Molineaux continued to hold Cribb, alternating between punching and resting. Controversy surrounds what happened next. The excited crowd pressed close into the ring and pushed down the ropes temporarily. Finally, Molineaux released the hold and Cribb went to the ground, seemingly unconscious.
Somehow Cribb made it back to scratch, with some debate over whether or not he did so within the allotted 30 seconds. The fight went on for another 20 rounds, with both men pushing to the point of utter fatigue. In the end, Molineaux lost from pure exhaustion, collapsing after Round 39.
The fight deserves to ranks among the five most important battles of the bare-knuckle era. Molineaux had come tantalizingly close to wresting the prizefighting laurels away from British hands, at the height of Britain’s golden age of prizefighting. The man born a slave did this a full century before Jack Johnson would actually become the first black man to reign as world heavyweight champion.
For Cribb, the fight solidified his status as a legendary champion. After going into near retirement, he had come roaring back to defeat the toughest challenger of his career.
Molineaux immediately began to campaign for a rematch. But without a rich patron, Molineaux was left to make his living by way of traveling exhibitions. Life on the road suited his temperament, but was less than ideal for his training. As Egan phrased it, Molineaux was forever entertaining himself with “larks and sprees.”
The second fight between the two was eagerly anticipated, but far less epic. Molineaux still had some great moments in the bout, but Cribb was far more well prepared this time around. He broke Molineaux’s jaw and knocked him out in Round 11.
From there, Molineaux’s career quickly went down hill. It was a familiar story that would play out again and again throughout the centuries — an immensely gifted athlete who took his talent for granted and lost it through dissipation, slowly at first, and then in a hurry. The “larks and sprees” finally caught up with him. He spent time in debtor’s prison and died penniless, at age 34.
