Recalling Ireland’s slave boxer

US fighter buried in Galway

HE KNEW the task would cause him much pain and possible permanent harm but the choice was a nobrainer. Win the fight and his slave master, who had wagered heavily on the result, promised he would grant him freedom and $500 to help forge a new life.

Tom Molineaux grabbed the opportunity, literally, with both hands.

Having beaten his opponent, from a neighbouring Virginia plantation, he packed his meagre belongings and set off on a remarkable journey that would earn him international fame as a bareknuckle boxer, only to fall victim to the temptations it brought in its wake. Within a few short years, Molineaux, his ring earnings squandered on drink and wild living, fell into bad health and died on a trip to Ireland. He was 34.

Buried in an unmarked pauper’s grave in Mervue Cemetery, on the outskirts of Galway city, his final resting place stayed largely unknown until plans were initiated to mark next year’s 200th anniversary of his death.

A TV documentary tells the stranger-than-fiction story of the gifted, but flawed, black American boxer while also focusing on the rarely acknowledged role Ireland played in the slave trade.

Entitled Crossing The Black Atlantic, the film was made by Galway-based documentary company Desk Productions and codirected by Des Kilbane and Andrew Gallimore.

‘It’s a chains-to-riches-to-rags story of someone given the opportunity of a new life only for it to end in tragedy through shadowy deals, rigged fights and racism,’ says Gallimore.

Molineaux, born in Georgetown, South Carolina, and reared on a Virginia plantation, headed for New York on gaining his freedom and supplemented his earnings as a dock labourer by taking part in bare-knuckle bouts. When he had made enough to pay his passage, he sailed to England, then the centre of the pugilistic world, where he knew the real money was available for those with the strength and courage to take on the best.

Taken in hand by another black American fighter, Bill Richmond, who had already gained respect among the boxing fraternity, Molineaux defeated several contenders before issuing a challenge to Tom Cribb, champion of England and world No.1.

WHAT happened that day, on December 18, 1810, in a ropedoff square on Copthall Common, halfway between London and Brighton, has gone down as one of the most shameful robberies in the history of British boxing. The nation’s reputation for fair play went out the window as Cribb struggled to match the visitor’s punching power and energy. Desperate measures were taken to prevent the title passing into foreign hands.

‘Cribb was considered a legend in England,’ says Des Kilbane. ‘The crowd decided there was no way their champion was going to lose, whatever it took.’

The bout was contested under the rules of the ring drawn up in 1743 by Jack Broughton, a former English champion, which meant fights lasted until either man was unable to continue or a draw was agreed. Rounds ended only when a boxer was knocked down. If, after 30 seconds rest, he was unable to ‘come to the scratch’ (a line drawn in the centre of the ring) he was deemed to have lost.

By the 28th round Molineaux had gained control and sent the champion crashing to the turf with a tremendous right-hander. Cribb’s seconds dragged him to his corner in a bid to revive him, but he looked a beaten man.

When the rest period was up, Molineaux was on his feet ready to finish what he had started, while Cribb, still slumped in his corner, failed to answer the call of ‘time’. Under the rules, the American was entitled to claim victory, but it was Jem Ward, one of Cribb’s seconds, who saved the championship for England with a disgraceful act of skulduggery.

Ward ran across the ring and demanded that Molineaux open his fists to show that he had bulCribb lets concealed to augment his punching power. The charge was ridiculous, of course, but five minutes passed before the umpires decided the contest should resume.

While the arguments had raged, Molineaux had stood shivering from the winter cold and the rain that fell on his bare upper body. Cribb’s more savvy cornermen, meanwhile, had kept their man covered with a blanket and fortified him with drinks of whisky.

Molineaux, no longer the commanding fighter he had been before the interruption, suffered heavy punishment and, after being badly dazed when hitting his head on a wooden corner post, he slumped to the ground in the 33rd round, muttering to Richmond: ‘I can fight no more’.

Within three days of his defeat he issued a challenge for a rematch, expressing the hope that the weather would be more favourable and no prejudice should be shown toward him because of his nationality or colour.

The second fight took place at Thistleton Gap, a spot where the three counties of Leicester, Lincoln and Rutland met, on September 28, 1811, and nine months after the first encounter. This time was in the best condition of his life, in contrast to Molineaux, who had neglected his training while enjoying the popularity his new-found fame had brought.

Pierce Egan, the top boxing expert of the period, wrote: ‘The black naturally had a taste for gaiety, was amorously inclined and full of gallantry – it is not surprising that the charms of the softer sex should warmly interest the attention of the lusty Moor.’

FOR the first five rounds Molineaux looked the likely winner. He battered the English champion so severely that his right eye was swollen shut and he bled heavily from the nose and mouth.

However, Molineaux’s energy soon ran out and he was left badly winded by a heavy blow to the body. Cribb, seeing his advantage, finished him off in the 11th round with a right-hander that broke the American’s jaw.

Though he fought on for another four years, it was clear that Molineaux was in physical decline. His body ravaged by drink and neglect, he eked out a living by engaging in exhibition matches and teaching the art of boxing to eager pupils.

Teaming up with prominent English boxer George Cooper, their tour took them to Ireland, where Molineaux issued a challenge to the Irish champion, Dan Donnelly, for a ‘fight to the finish’. In a face-to-face meeting, Donnelly curtly rejected the offer.

Molineaux, in a rage, accused the Irishman of prejudice and cowardice, but it was Cooper who fought, and lost, in the famous Battle of Donnelly’s Hollow on the Curragh of Kildare.

It was all downhill for Molineaux from then on. Described as ‘a walking skeleton’, he was taken into the care of several black bandsmen attached to the British Army’s 77th Infantry Regiment, stationed in Galway. He died of liver failure on August 4, 1818.

Now, 200 years on, Galway City Museum is planning a series of events to commemorate the anniversary of Molineaux’s death while plans are under way to erect a plaque in his name at Mervue Cemetery.

The documentary, Crossing The Black Atlantic, will be shown on TG4 tomorrow at 7.15pm.