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jQuery and JavaScript Phrasebook 1st Edition Brad
Dayley Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Brad Dayley
ISBN(s): 9780321918963, 0321918967
Edition: 1
File Details: PDF, 2.71 MB
Year: 2013
Language: english
jQuery and
JavaScript
P H R A S E B O O K
This page intentionally left blank
 jQuery and
JavaScript
P H R A S E B O O K

Brad Dayley

Upper Saddle River, NJ • Boston • Indianapolis • San Francisco

New York • Toronto • Montreal • London • Munich • Paris • Madrid
Cape Town • Sydney • Tokyo • Singapore • Mexico City
Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their
products are claimed as trademarks. Where those designations appear in this book,
and the publisher was aware of a trademark claim, the designations have been print-
ed with initial capital letters or in all capitals.
The author and publisher have taken care in the preparation of this book, but make
no expressed or implied warranty of any kind and assume no responsibility for errors
or omissions. No liability is assumed for incidental or consequential damages in
connection with or arising out of the use of the information or programs contained
herein.
For information about buying this title in bulk quantities, or for special sales
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For questions about sales outside the U.S., please contact
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Visit us on the Web: informit.com/aw
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013950281
Copyright © 2014 Pearson Education, Inc.
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. This publication is
protected by copyright, and permission must be obtained from the publisher prior to
any prohibited reproduction, storage in a retrieval system, or transmission in any
form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or likewise.
To obtain permission to use material from this work, please submit a written request
to Pearson Education, Inc., Permissions Department, One Lake Street, Upper Saddle
River, New Jersey 07458, or you may fax your request to (201) 236-3290.
ISBN-13: 978-0-321-91896-3
ISBN-10: 0-321-91896-7

First printing: December 2013

Acquisitions Editor Copy Editor Proofreader Cover Designer

Mark Taber Karen Gill Kathy Ruiz Chuti Prasertsith
Managing Editor Indexer Technical Senior Compositor
Kristy Hart Publishing Reviewer Gloria Schurick
Project Editor Services, Phil Ballard
WordWise, Editorial Assistant
Katie Matejka Larry Sweazy
Vanessa Evans
Dedication

For D!
A&F
Contents
1 Jumping into jQuery, JavaScript, and the
World of Dynamic Web Development 1
Understanding JavaScript 2
Introducing jQuery 4
Introducing jQuery UI 7
Introducing jQuery Mobile 9
Configuring Browser Development Tools 12

2 Using the JavaScript Language 15

JavaScript Syntax 15
Defining and Accessing Data 16
Defining Functions 20
Manipulating Strings 21
Manipulating Arrays 25
Applying Logic 29
Math Operations 31
Working with Dates 36

3 Interacting with the Browser 43

Writing to the JavaScript Console 43
Reloading the Web Page 44
Redirecting the Web Page 44
Getting the Screen Size 45
Getting Current Location Details 45
Accessing the Browser 47
Using the Browser History to Go Forward and
Backward Pages 49
Creating Popup Windows 50
Manipulating Cookies 52
Adding Timers 55
 Contents vii

4 Accessing HTML Elements 59

Finding HTML Elements in JavaScript 59
Using the jQuery Selector to Find HTML
Elements 61
Chaining jQuery Object Operations 75
Navigating jQuery Objects to Select Elements 76

5 Manipulating the jQuery Object Set 83

Getting DOM Objects from a jQuery
Object Set 84
Converting DOM Objects into jQuery Objects 84
Iterating Through the jQuery Object Set
Using .each() 85
Using .map() 87
Assigning Data Values to Objects 89
Adding DOM Elements to the jQuery
Object Set 91
Removing Objects from the jQuery
Object Set 91
Filtering the jQuery Object Results 92

6 Capturing and Using Browser and

User Events 95
Understanding Events 96
Adding Event Handlers 99
Controlling Events 107
Using Event Objects 111
Handling Mouse Events 115
Handling Keyboard Events 118
Form Events 122

7 Manipulating Web Page Elements

Dynamically 125
Getting and Setting DOM Element Attributes
and Properties 126
viii Contents

Getting and Setting CSS Properties 130

Getting and Manipulating Element Content 139

8 Manipulating Web Page Layout Dynamically 143

Hiding and Showing Elements 143
Adjusting Opacity 146
Resizing Elements 149
Repositioning Elements 152
Stacking Elements 156

9 Dynamically Working with Form Elements 159

Getting and Setting Text Input Values 160
Checking and Changing Check Box State 161
Getting and Setting the Selected Option
in a Radio Group 162
Getting and Setting Select Values 164
Getting and Setting Hidden Form Attributes 166
Disabling Form Elements 167
Showing/Hiding Form Elements 170
Forcing Focus to and Away from
Form Elements 172
Controlling Form Submission 175

10 Building Web Page Content Dynamically 177

Creating HTML Elements Using jQuery 178
Adding Elements to the Other Elements 179
Removing Elements from the Page 184
Dynamically Creating a Select Form Element 186
Appending Rows to a Table 189
Inserting Items into a List 191
Creating a Dynamic Image Gallery 193
Adding HTML5 Canvas Graphics 196
 Contents ix

11 Adding jQuery UI Elements 201

Adding the jQuery UI Library 201
Implementing an Autocomplete Input 203
Implementing Drag and Drop 205
Adding Datepicker Element 212
Using Sliders to Manipulate Elements 215
Creating a Menu 219
Adding Tooltips 223

12 Animation and Other Special Effects 227

Understanding jQuery Animation 228
Animating Visibility 234
Making an Element Slide Back to Disappear 238
Animating Show and Hide 242
Animating Resizing an Image 246
Animating Moving an Element 248

13 Using AJAX to Communicate with

Web Servers and Web Services 251
Understanding AJAX 251
AJAX from JavaScript 261
AJAX from jQuery 267
Handling jQuery AJAX Responses 282
Using Advanced jQuery AJAX 285

14 Implementing Mobile Web Sites with

jQuery 291
Getting Started with jQuery Mobile 291
Building Mobile Pages 302
Implementing Mobile Sites with Multiple
Pages 306
Creating a Navbar 314
Applying a Grid Layout 316
Implementing Listviews 320
x Contents

Using Collapsible Blocks and Sets 326

Adding Auxiliary Content to Panels 327
Working with Popups 329
Building Mobile-Friendly Tables 332
Creating Mobile Forms 334

Index 341
Acknowledgments
I’d like to take this page to thank all those who made
this title possible. First, I thank my wonderful wife and
boys for giving me the inspiration and support I need.
I’d never make it far without you.Thanks to Mark
Taber for getting this title rolling in the right direc-
tion; Karen Gill for turning the ramblings of my techie
mind into coherent text; Phil Ballard for ensuring the
accuracy in the book and keeping me honest; Kathy
Ruiz and Gloria Schurick for making sure the book is
the highest quality; Larry Sweazy for making sure that
the readers can actually find what they look for in the
book;Tammy Graham and Laura Robbins for their
graphical genius; Chuti Prasertsith for the stylish and
sleek cover; and Katherine Matejka for all her hard
work in making sure this book is the best it can be.
You guys are awesome!
About the Author
Brad Dayley is a senior software engineer with 20
years of experience developing enterprise applications.
He has used HTML/CSS, JavaScript, and jQuery
extensively to develop a wide array of web pages rang-
ing from enterprise application interfaces to sophisti-
cated rich Internet applications to smart interfaces for
mobile web services. He is the author of Python
Developer’s Phrasebook and Sams Teach Yourself jQuery and
JavaScript in 24 Hours.
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This page intentionally left blank
Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:
 “Can you box?” asks the old magistrate in Lavengro. “I tell you
what, my boy: I honour you.... Boxing is, as you say, a noble art
—a truly English art; may I never see the day when Englishmen
shall feel ashamed of it, or blacklegs and blackguards bring it
into disgrace! I am a magistrate, and, of course, cannot
patronise the thing very openly, yet I sometimes see a prize-
fight.”

“All I have to say,” Borrow continues later on in Lavengro, “is,

that the French still live on the other side of the water, and are
still casting their eyes hitherward—and that in the days of
pugilism it was no vain boast to say, that one Englishman was a
match for two of t’other race.”

What would he have said had he lived to see a French champion?

The two words, “boxing” and “Frenchman,” within half a mile of each
other, so to put it, made a stock joke in those days and for long
after, even to within recent memory.

Borrow had the true boxer’s joy in a fight for its own sake, the
violent exercise, the sense of personal contest which is more
manifest in fisticuffs than in any other sport.

“Dosta,” says Jasper Petulengro, “we’ll now go to the tents and

put on the gloves; and I’ll try to make you feel what a sweet
thing it is to be alive, brother!”

The following is his account of the crowd at a prize-fight, the

encounter itself being dismissed in a few lines:—

“I think I now see them upon the bowling-green, the men of

renown, amidst hundreds of people with no renown at all, who
gaze upon them with timid wonder. Fame, after all, is a glorious
thing, though it last only for a day. There’s Cribb, the Champion
of England, and perhaps the best man in England: there he is
with his huge, massive figure, and a face wonderfully like that
of a lion. There is Belcher, the younger ... the most scientific
 pugilist who ever entered a ring.... Crosses him, what a
contrast! Grim, savage Skelton, who has a civil word for nobody
and a hard blow for anybody—hard! one blow, given with the
proper play of his athletic arm, will unsense a giant. Yonder
individual, who strolls about with his hands behind him,
supporting his brown coat lappets, undersized, and also looks
anything but what he is, is the King of the Lightweights, so-
called—Randall! the terrible Randall, who has Irish blood in his
veins: not the better for that, nor the worse; not far from him is
his last antagonist, Ned Turner, who, though beaten by him, still
thinks himself as good a man, in which he is, perhaps, right, for
it was a near thing; and a better ‘shentleman,’ in which he is
quite right, for he is a Welshman.... There was—what! shall I
name the last? Ay, why not? I believe that thou art the last of all
that strong family still above the sod, where may’st thou long
continue—true species of English stuff, Tom of Bedford—sharp
as Winter, kind as Spring.

“Hail to thee, Tom of Bedford.... Hail to thee, six-foot

Englishman of the brown eye, worthy to have carried a six-foot
bow at Flodden, where England’s yeomen triumphed over
Scotland’s king, his clans and chivalry. Hail to thee, last of
England’s bruisers, after all the many victories which thou hast
achieved—true English victories, unbought by yellow gold....”

Borrow wrote of the Prize-Ring in its decline and of its best days
from a greater distance than did Egan, and his perspective is
therefore truer. Still we do learn a great deal from Boxiana of the old
giants; whilst contemporary engravings, some of which will be found
here, give us, more or less faithfully, the attitudes of the fighters.
Whether the artists observed the same fidelity in regard to the
muscular development of the principals we must decide from our
own experience. It is often said that if men were to train themselves
to this herculean scale they would be so muscle-bound as to be
almost immobile.
At the beginning of Volume III. of Boxiana, Egan tells us of the
extraordinary physique of the fighter.

“The frames, in general, of the boxers are materially different, in

point of appearance, from most other men; and they are also
formed to endure punishment in a very severe degree.... The
eyes of the pugilists are always small; but their necks are very
fine and large; their arms are also muscular and athletic, with
strong, well-turned shoulders. In general, the chests of the
Boxers are expanded; and some of their backs and loins not
only exhibit an unusual degree of strength, but a great portion
of anatomical beauty. The hips, thighs, and legs of a few of the
pugilists are very much to be admired for their symmetry, and
there is likewise a peculiar ‘sort of a something’ about the head
of a boxer, which tends to give him character.”

And he adds a footnote: “The old Fanciers, or ‘good judges,’ prefer

those of a snipe appearance.”—(An appearance which obviously
could not long have been maintained!)

Of scientific boxing, as we understand it, there was comparatively

little; though in the hey-day of the Prize-Ring (roughly speaking, the
first quarter of the nineteenth century) the foundations of the exact
science were well laid. However, the chief qualifications for a good
pugilist were strength and courage, even as they are to-day. But,
besides hitting, the fighters might close and wrestle, and many a
hard battle was lost by a good boxer whose strength was worn out
by repeated falls, falls made the more damaging when a hulking
opponent threw himself, as at one time he was allowed to do, on top
of him.

The other principal differences between old and modern boxing were
these: it was one of a man’s first considerations to hit his antagonist
hard about the eyes, so that they swelled up and he could not see.
Men strong and otherwise unhurt were often beaten like that.
Secondly, bare knuckles, in hard repeated contact with hard heads,
were apt to be “knocked up” after a time. The use of gloves, though
it probably makes a knock-out easier and quicker, obviates these two
difficulties. However, even with the heavy “pudden” of an eight-
ounce glove, the danger to the striker, though much lessened, is not
entirely avoided, and I once put out two knuckles of my left, at the
same time breaking a bone at the back of my hand in contact with
an opponent’s elbow with which he guarded his ribs. This sort of
accident is very rare.

The chief interest in the fights described by Pierce Egan and by

others lies in their records of magnificent courage, for—there is
really no way out of it—the old Prize-Ring was, by the prevalent
standards of to-day, a somewhat brutal institution. Horrible cruelty
was seen and enjoyed, not as a rule the cruelty of the two men
engaged, fair or foul as may have been their methods, but of their
backers and seconds, who, with their money on the issue, allowed a
beaten man, sorely hurt, to go on fighting on the off-chance of his
winning by a lucky blow. Sometimes their optimism was, within the
limits of its intention, justified, and an all but beaten man did win.
Really, that sort of thing happens more often in modern boxing,
especially amateur boxing, to-day, than it did in the Prize-Ring, and
this is due, not to the callousness of referees, but to their
perspicacity. A thoroughly experienced referee understands exactly
how much a man can endure, particularly when he has seen the
individual in question box before. He knows that he is not nearly so
much hurt and “done” as he looks, or rather as the average
spectator thinks he looks; and he gives him his chance. And,
suddenly, to the wild surprise of every one, except, perhaps, the
referee, he puts in a “lucky” blow and knocks out an opponent who
had hitherto been “all over” him.

On the other hand, a backer sometimes did withdraw his man in the
most humane fashion when he had been badly punished, and very
often to the deep resentment of the boxer himself, who, left to his
own devices, would have fought on so long as his weakening legs
would obey his iron will.

One more word upon the subject of “brutality” may be forgiven me.
Again and again has it been said, but never too emphatically, how
seldom it is that the men themselves were to blame. It is the
hangers-on, the parasites, the vermin of sport, outside the ring, the
field, the racecourse, who never risked nor meant to risk a broken
nose or a thick ear, who are out for money and for money alone, by
fair means for choice (as being on the whole the better policy), but
by foul means readily enough rather than not at all—these are the
men who bring every institution upon which they batten into bad
repute. Certainly the broken ranks of this army were occasionally
recruited from the less successful or the more dissipated but quite
genuine fighters, just as the hired bully is not unknown amongst the
boxers of to-day. But the real villain, the man who gets the money
out of rascality, does so, if possible, with a whole skin.

The Prize-Ring served its turn. For nearly a hundred years—that is,
roughly, from 1740 to 1840—it was a genuine expression of English
life. Right or wrong as may have been the methods used, it was
spontaneous. After that, if we except individual encounters, it was
forced, laboured, and in vain. The spontaneity was gone. In his
Preface to Cashel Byron’s Profession, Mr. Shaw tells us that pugilism
was supposed to have died of its own blackguardism: whereas “it
lived by its blackguardism and died of its intolerable tediousness.”

That is very true, but it must be remembered that the tediousness

sprang very largely from the blackguardism—that is to say, towards
the end of the bare-knuckle era the men used to stand off from each
other, doing as little damage as possible and earning their money as
easily as might be. Moreover, men who fought a “cross” were,
particularly in the latter half of the nineteenth century, seldom good
enough actors to appear beaten with any degree of plausibility,
when they could, in fact, have continued fighting: and the result was
that they stood about the ring, sparring in a tentative fashion,
wrestling now and again, and wasting time, waiting for an
opportunity to fall with some show of reality.

Thackeray, however, who, according to Mr. Shaw, loved a prize-fight

as he loved a fool, appeared to think that the sport died of
hypocritical respectability. There is, of course, plenty to be said upon
both sides; and Thackeray’s opinions will be more closely discussed
in the chapter dealing with the fight between Sayers and Heenan.

Of one disease or another, or of several complications, the Prize-Ring

died, and from its dust arose the gradually improving sport of glove-
fighting, the boxing of to-day.

The aim of this book is to cover the ground of bare-knuckle fighting

and of modern professional boxing from the inception of the Ring to
the present day, by making notes upon a number of representative
battles in their chronological order.
 PART I

KNUCKLES
 CHAPTER I

JOHN BROUGHTON AND JACK SLACK

The first Boxing Champion of England of whom any record has been
handed down to us was Figg. Fistiana or The Oracle of the Ring
gives his date as 1719. Strictly, however, his title to fame rests more
securely on his excellence with the cudgel and small-sword than on
fisticuffs, and the real father of the ring was John Broughton, who
was Champion from 1738 to 1750.

Broughton had a famous place of entertainment known as the

Amphitheatre, in Hanway Yard, Oxford Road, near the site of a like
establishment that had been kept by Figg. Here, with pit and gallery
and boxes arranged about a high stage, displays of boxing were
given from time to time, and here it was that sportsmen first learned
to enjoy desperate struggles between man and man.

As has already been shown, Broughton formulated the rules which

for many years to come were to govern fighting, and which, much as
they leave to the imagination as well as to the discretion of officials,
tell us with the utmost simplicity the conditions under which men
fought.

For eighteen years John Broughton was undisputed Champion of

England. That probably meant very little, for boxing had not yet
become popular and its science was in its extremest infancy. I would
gladly make the foolish and unprofitable bet that if Broughton, in his
prime and with his bare fists, could be transplanted to these latter
days, he would not stand for one minute before Joe Beckett with the
gloves on. (That is less of a handicap than it sounds to any boxer
who has never used his bare knuckles.)

Broughton’s fight with Slack can by no standard be called great, but

it has its peculiar importance in showing us how a certain degree of
skill hampered by over-confidence and lack of training may be at the
mercy of courage, strength, and enterprise. Broughton’s knowledge
of boxing, compared with the science of Jem Belcher and Tom
Spring, must have been negligible; but years of practice must have
taught him something. As far as we can gather, Slack knew less than
a small boy in his first term at school. He was a butcher by trade,
and one day at Hounslow Races he had “words” with the champion,
who laid about him with a horse-whip. Thereupon Slack challenged
Broughton, and the fight took place at the Amphitheatre on April
10th, 1750.

There was nothing elegant about Jack Slack. His attitude was ugly
and awkward, he was strong and healthy but quite untrained in our
meaning of the word. He only stood 5 feet 8½ inches but weighed
close upon 14 stone—nearly as much as his antagonist, who was a
taller man. Broughton was eager for the fight or for the money to be
derived from it. He regarded Slack with the utmost contempt and
made no sort of preparation. So afraid was he that the butcher
might not turn up at the last minute that he gave him ten guineas to
make sure of him! The betting was 10-1 on Broughton when the
men appeared in the ring. After all, as boxing went in these days, he
did know something about defence, and he was master of two
famous blows, one for the body and one under the ear, which were
said to terrify his opponents.

Slack stood upright, facing his man, with his right rigidly guarding
his stomach and his left in front of his mouth. But that was only at
the beginning. Directly he got into action Slack speedily forgot his
guard. The art of self-defence was unknown to him, his was the art
of bashing. He was a rushing slogger against whom a cool man’s
remedy is obvious. But he was also a glutton for punishment, and
almost boundless courage and staying power, or “bottom,” as they
used to call it in those days. Regardless of the plain danger of doing
so, he charged across the ring at Broughton, raising his hands like
flails. Slack was noted for downward chopping blows and for back-
handers, neither of which are or ever have been really successful.
Broughton met this wild charge in the orthodox manner with straight
left and right, propping off his man in such a way that the attacker’s
own weight was added to the power of the blows. For two minutes
or so Slack was badly knocked about. Then they closed for a fall and
Broughton’s great strength gave him the advantage. But he was
getting on in years and was untrained and in flesh. The effort of
wrestling with a man of his own ponderous weight made his breath
come short, and when next they faced each other across their
extended fists the first dullness of fatigue already weighed on the
old champion. He was a slow man, and had been used to win his
fights by the slow and steady method of wearing down his
antagonists. Slack was harder and stronger than he had supposed,
but of course he would beat him—this ungainly slogger who didn’t
know enough to avoid the simplest blow. But Slack, the rusher, was
a natural fighter which, when all’s said, is a very good sort of fighter
indeed. He liked the game—the fun of it, the sport of it. In spite of
his bulk he was pretty hard. Standing square to his man with the
right foot a little forward, he had no fear of his great reputation, he
was quite untroubled by the stories of that terrible blow beneath the
ear. He went for Broughton with a will. He would give him no time to
remember his ring-craft. He would take cheerfully all that was
coming on the way, and sooner or later he would get past the
champion’s guard.

And presently Slack jumped in and landed a tremendous blow

between Broughton’s eyes. And the champion’s face was soft from
good living. He had not been hit like that for many a year. Both his
eyes swelled up at once.
The spectators saw that Broughton was dazed. He seemed stupid
and slow—not himself at all. And—they could not understand this—
he hesitated and flinched before his man. The Duke of Cumberland,
who was his chief patron, could hardly believe his eyes. Broughton
afraid? Broughton, from whom all others flinched away, who stood
so boldly and straight before his man, who, though slow and heavy,
was so sure and never gave ground? Slack stood away for a moment
and Broughton came forward with his hands before him, feeling his
way. Then the people saw that his eyes were entirely swollen up and
closed. The man was blind.

The Duke was slower than the others.

“What are you about, Broughton?” he shouted to him. “You can’t

fight. You’re beat.”

To which Broughton replied, vaguely turning his head about as

though uncertain from which quarter his backer’s voice had come,—

“I can’t see my man, your Highness. I am blind—not beat. Only put

me in front of him and he’ll not win yet.”

But Slack dashed in again and Broughton could not ward off a blow.
Still strong, quite unbeaten in the literal sense of the word, he had
to give in. It was an accident in the game and yet it was a part of
the game. The whole fight was over in fourteen minutes.

In order to compare those days with these, it is interesting to know

that tickets for the Amphitheatre on this occasion cost a guinea and
a half, whilst the money taken at the door besides fetched £150.
Slack, as winner, was given the “produce of the house,” which in all
amounted to £600. When we have in mind the difference in the
value of money then and now, we must realise that even in the early
days of the Prize-Ring a successful boxer stood to win a considerable
sum. The chief difference in his earning capacity lay in the fact that
bare-knuckle fights were necessarily less frequent than the softer
encounters of to-day. Nor was the sport widely popular at that time,
the patrons and spectators being chiefly confined to publicans and
other good sinners.
 CHAPTER II

TOM JOHNSON AND ISAAC PERRINS

It is character and knowledge of character, which, together with

strength and skill, makes boxing champions to-day. And we are
inclined to think that the psychological element in fighting came in
only within the day of gloves, and rather late in that day. Certainly
the old records of the early Prize-Ring are of brawn and stamina,
skill and courage rather than of forethought and acutely reasoned
generalship, but there are exceptions, and one of the most
noteworthy is that of Tom Johnson.

Johnson (whose real name was Jackling) was a Derby man, who
came to London as a lad, and worked as a corn porter at Old Swan
Stairs. For a heavyweight champion he was very small—short,
rather: for he stood but 5 feet 9 inches. He must, however, have
been made like a barrel, for he weighed 14 stone, and the girth of
his chest was enormous. A story is told of how Johnson when his
mate fell sick carried two sacks of corn at each journey up the steep
ascent from the riverside and paid the man his money, so that the
boxer’s amazing strength earned the double wage.

The best known and probably the fiercest of Johnson’s battles was
with Isaac Perrins, who stood 6 feet 2 inches and weighed 17 stone.
It is not probable that boxers trained very vigorously in those early
days, so that the weights may be misleading. Contemporary prints,
however, certainly give the impression of men in hard condition.
Perrins, a Birmingham man, is said to have lifted 8 cwt. of iron into a
wagon without effort.

The fight took place at Banbury in Oxfordshire on October 22, 1789.

The men fought (it is interesting to know when we think of the
prizes of the present day) for 250 guineas. Two-thirds of the door
money went to the winner, one-third to the loser. The men fought on
a turfed stage raised five feet above the ground.

Johnson’s method had always been to play a waiting game, to try to

understand his opponent’s temperament, to take no avoidable risks.
He knew that he was a good stayer, so he was accustomed to use
his feet and to keep out of distance until he had sized up his man.
He would always make rather a long but certain job of a fight than a
quick but hazardous one.

Johnson’s greatest trouble was his passionate temper, which was

largely the cause of his downfall two years later in his fight with Big
Ben Brain. Isaac Perrins, who had the name of a good-natured giant,
was the first to lead. He ... “made a blow,” Pierce Egan tells us,
“which, in all probability, had he not have missed his aim, must have
decided the contest, and Johnson been killed, from its dreadful
force.” But Johnson dodged the blow and countered with a terrific
right-hander which knocked Perrins down. At that time prize-fighters
stood square to each other with their hands level, ready to lead off
with either. And in that position a man naturally fell over much easier
than from the solid attitude of a few years later till the present time.

The next three rounds were Johnson’s, for Perrins was shaken by his
first fall. Then Perrins gathered himself together, and by sheer
weight forced himself, regardless of the blows that rained on him,
through the smaller man’s guard and knocked him down. And for
several rounds in his turn Perrins was the better. He cut Johnson’s lip
very badly, so that he lost blood, and the betting for some time
remained in his favour.
Tom Johnson by this time had the measure of his man. The usual
waiting game would not serve now. He must not only wait, but he
must keep away, and in order to keep away, he must run away. This
may not have been wholly admirable from a purely sporting point of
view, but we must forgive Johnson a good deal (and as we shall see
there really was a good deal to forgive) on account of his inches.
“He had recourse,” says Egan, “to shifting”—that is, he kept out of
the way for as long as possible, and then, as by the rules of the
Prize-Ring a round only ended when one of the men went down,
probably closed and let Perrins throw him.

But the spectators approved of this method no better than they

would to-day, and there was a good deal of murmuring against
Johnson. At last Perrins, unable to reach his nimble-footed
antagonist, began to mock at him. “Why!” he exclaimed to the
company at large, “what have you brought me here? This is not the
valiant Johnson, the Champion of England: you have imposed upon
me with a mere boy!”

At this Johnson was stung to retort, for he was no coward and was
but fighting in the only way which his size allowed. Moreover,
Perrins’s observation roused his dander, and he blurted out, “By God,
you shall know that Tom Johnson is here!” and immediately flew at
his man in a passion of rage and planted a terrific blow over his left
eye, so that it closed almost at once.

This incident nearly decides for us that Perrins was not much of a
boxer. A wild charge of that sort, particularly by a much smaller
man, is seldom difficult to frustrate. And the opinion of the crowd
began to veer round. Those who had put their money on Perrins
began to hedge.

Undaunted by his closed eye, Perrins pulled himself together in the

next round and returned as good as he had got, closing Johnson’s
right eye. And so for a while the fight remained level. Many rounds
and very short ones. A half-minute’s rest between. Much hard
punishment given and got, but a great deal of it not of a kind
obvious to the inexpert spectator. Quite apart from short-arm body-
blows which are sometimes apt to elude observation, there was
wrestling for a fall with which far more rounds ended than with falls
from a blow. The effort to throw is exhausting enough, but to be
thrown and for a heavy man to fall on top of you is terribly wearing.
And though the strength of these two men was prodigious, yet
Johnson was the closer knit of the two, from a boxer’s point of view
the better made.

Now when they had fought forty rounds, Johnson was confident and
happy, but he knew that he was pitted against a lion-hearted man
who was by no means yet worn out. Suddenly he got an opening for
a clean straight blow with all his weight behind it. This was a right-
hander, which struck Perrins on the bridge of his nose and slit it
down as though it had been cut with a knife.

The odds were now 100-10 on Johnson, but he had by no means

won the fight. Perrins was boxing desperately, striving with his great
superiority in reach to close Johnson’s remaining eye. He knew very
well that many a fight had been won like that, an otherwise unhurt
man being forced to throw up the sponge because he was totally
blinded by the swelling of his eyes. In the forty-first round Johnson
either slipped down or deliberately fell without a blow and Perrins
and his backers claimed the victory. If Johnson did actually play this
very dirty trick to gain time and have a rest, he deserved to lose. We
don’t know what actually happened. The records merely state that
he fell without being hit. But the umpires allowed it because that
contingency had not been covered in the articles of agreement made
before the fight.

Perrins now changed his method, attacking his man with chopping
blows presumably on the back of the neck and head, and back-
handed blows which are seldom efficacious. These puzzled Johnson
at first, and he took some of them without a return until he learned
the knack and guarded himself. And Perrins’s strength now began to
go: while Johnson, who for a few rounds had seemed tired, began to
improve again. But yet he never began the attack. He left that
always to the giant. In fact, Johnson did everything to save himself
and to make his man do most of the work. Then Perrins, who had
lunged forward with a terrific blow, fell forward, partly from his own
impetus, and partly from weakness. Johnson, who had stepped aside
from the blow, watched him and as he fell hit him in the face with all
his might, at the same time tumbling over him. After that Perrins
was done. Every round ended by his falling either from a blow or
from sheer weakness. Johnson hit him as he pleased, with the
consequence that Perrins’s face was fearfully damaged, “with scarce
the traces left of a human being.” But he refused to give in, and
round after round his seconds brought him to the scratch, when he
swayed and staggered and struggled for breath and tried to fight on.
His pluck in this battle was the inspiration of the Prize-Ring for ever
afterwards. More than once Johnson, still strong, sent in tremendous
blows which would utterly have finished lesser men, but Isaac
Perrins held on until his friends and seconds gave in and refused to
let the good fellow fight any more. The match had lasted for an hour
and a quarter, during which sixty-two rounds had been fought.

In many ways it was an unsatisfactory fight, but for cunning (if

rather low cunning) on one side and magnificent courage and
determination on the other, it must be counted one of the greatest
combats of the old days.
 CHAPTER III

RICHARD HUMPHRIES, DANIEL MENDOZA,

AND JOHN JACKSON

The Jews in this country have taken very kindly to boxing, both as
spectators and as principals, throughout the annals of the Ring, both
in the days of bare knuckles and in later times down to the present
day, there has generally been a sprinkling of good fighting Israelites.
And the first Jew of any note as a boxer became Champion of
England.

The battles for which Daniel Mendoza was most famous were the
succession, four in number, in which he engaged Richard Humphries.
The first of these was negligible, being but a “turn-up” or pot-house
quarrel at the Cock, Epping. This took place in September of 1787,
but it led to a pitched fight between these men for a purse of 150
guineas at Odiham, in Hampshire, in the following January.

Like many prominent fighters, Mendoza was finely developed from

the waist upwards, with a big chest and a show of muscle in the
arms, but his legs were weaker. He was five-foot seven in height.
Humphries was an inch taller and rather better built. He was known
as the “Gentleman Boxer” because of his pleasant manners and
sporting behaviour generally. Both were men of proved courage. As
may be imagined from the Epping incident, there was no love lost
between them.
They fought on a twenty-four foot stage erected in a field, but, since
the day was wet, the boarded ring from the first proved to be a
hindrance to good boxing.

At first the men were both very cautious. Mendoza, always a little
inclined to attitudinise and to pose for effect, swaggered about the
ring until he saw an opening when, lunging forward with a mighty
blow he slipped and fell. On coming up again Mendoza got a little
nearer to his man and hit him twice, the second blow knocking
Humphries down. In the next round they closed and Humphries was
heavily thrown. Already it seemed certain that Mendoza was the
better boxer, though Humphries was very strong and full of pluck.
And for a quarter of an hour of hard fighting his pluck was fully
needed. Mendoza throughout that time attacked him with the
utmost violence, knocking him down or throwing him with
consummate skill, so that the betting was strongly in the Jew’s
favour. Then happened one of those curious and unsatisfactory
incidents for which Broughton’s Rules, at all events, had no remedy.
Mendoza had driven his antagonist, blow following blow, right after
left, across the ring to the side, which appears on this occasion to
have been railed and not roped. A smashing right had all but lifted
Humphries off the stage, and for a moment he hung over the rail
quite helpless and at Mendoza’s mercy. Instantly taking advantage of
his position, the Jew sent in a terrific right-hander at Humphries’s
ribs which, had it landed, would almost certainly have knocked him
out of time and so finished the fight. But Tom Johnson, who was
acting as Humphries’s second, leapt forward and caught Mendoza’s
fist in his own hand.

The Jew’s followers immediately sent up a shout of “Foul!” which

was reasonable enough. Indeed, by modern rules there would be no
question at all. Humphries would have been immediately disqualified
for his second’s interference. But the old rules were elastic and the
umpires on this occasion decided that Johnson was justified, as his
man should be considered “down.” Whether they had any ulterior
motive, such as the desire to see the fight run its natural length, one
cannot say. But we do know that human nature has altered
remarkably little in a hundred and fifty years, and to-day a referee,
not of the first rank, will often stretch a debatable point in order “not
to spoil sport,” or because it would be a pity if the public failed to get
their money’s worth out of the moving pictures taken of the fight.

Hitherto, owing to the wet and slippery boards, Humphries had been
severely handicapped. He now took off his shoes and fought in his
silk stockings. But with these, too, he found it difficult to keep his
footing and after a round or two his seconds provided him with a
pair of thick worsted stockings to put over them. In these he could
stand firm, and shortly afterwards his great courage began to be
rewarded, for Mendoza flagged a little, and Humphries picked him
clean off his feet and threw him with terrible force to the ground.
The Jew came down on his face, cutting his forehead severely and
bruising his nose. Coming up for the next round, Mendoza was
plainly hurt and shaken, and thenceforward his antagonist showed
himself the better man. Mendoza went down before a terrific body-
blow, while in the next round he fell from a left-hander on the neck
which nearly knocked the senses out of him. Then, coming up again,
he dashed at Humphries and hit him with all his flagging power in
the face, but he slipped and toppled over from the impetus of his
own rush and fell down on the boards with his leg awkwardly
twisted under him. In doing this he sprained a tendon, and knowing
that further effort was quite useless, he gave in. A moment later he
fainted in the ring and was carried away. So Humphries’s victory on
this occasion was due, finally, to an accident. The whole battle was
finished in half an hour, and “never was more skill and science
displayed in any boxing match in this kingdom,” wrote the chronicler,
Pierce Egan, with his customary exaggeration.

Prone as human nature ever is, now as then, to judge by net results,
Mendoza’s reputation nevertheless suffered little from this defeat. On
the contrary, he had boxed so well and had shown so much courage
that he had, if anything, enhanced it. It was seen that he was a
much quicker man than Humphries and that he was far better at
close quarters. On the other hand, Mendoza was not a really hard
hitter.

After this battle the winner wrote a note to his backer and patron,
Mr. Bradyl, which delightfully summed up the situation:—

“Sir,—I have done the Jew, and am in good health.

“Richard Humphries.”

But a number of sportsmen were by no means satisfied that

Humphries had “done” the Jew on his own merits. They fully realised
that accident had materially helped in that “doing,” and accordingly
were ready to back the Jew again. The two men being quite willing,
a match was arranged and was eventually fought in Mr. Thornton’s
park, near Stilton, in Huntingdonshire, on May 6th, 1789. For this
encounter, popular excitement being very great, a sort of
amphitheatre was built with seats piled tier on tier around the ring.
It held nearly 3000 people. This, too, was an unsatisfactory fight,
but has to be chronicled because it illustrates very vividly some of
the causes which nearly a hundred years later finally brought the
Prize-Ring to ignominy, and because, also, it shows how mixed are
human motives and emotions during severe physical strain.

The men squared up to each other, and Humphries made the first
attack, but Mendoza stopped the blow neatly and sent in a hard
counter which knocked his antagonist down. The second and third
rounds ended in exactly the same way. The Jew’s confidence was
complete, his speed remarkable. He had learned to hit no harder, but
he certainly hit more often than Humphries. For about forty minutes
Mendoza had much the best of it, taking his adversary’s blows on his
forearm, instantly replying with his quick, straight left, or closing and
throwing Humphries.

The feeling of impotency, of long effort continuously baffled, finds

the breaking point of a boxer’s pluck much sooner than severe
punishment relieved by a successful counter from time to time.
Humphries was tired, but not seriously hurt. In the twenty-second
round Mendoza struck at him, but he avoided the blow and dropped.
He did not slip. As the Jew’s fist came towards him he made the
almost automatic movement which should ensure its harmlessness,
but at the same moment he deliberately made up his mind to take
the half minute’s rest then and there. Or perhaps that was instinctive
too. The human mind flits quickly through the processes or stages of
intention and comes to a certain conclusion. Humphries wanted to
gain time and fell without a blow. Now the articles of agreement
expressly stated that if either man fell without a blow he should lose
the fight. And the cries of “Foul!” from the crowd and especially from
Mendoza’s corner were natural enough. But Humphries and his
backers claimed the fall a fair one because Mendoza had struck a
blow, though it had not, as a matter of fact, landed. The partisans
on either side wrangled and argued, and finally a general fight
seemed almost inevitable. Above the yelling and cursing of the
crowd and in the general confusion, the umpires could scarcely be
heard. Sir Thomas Apreece, Mendoza’s umpire, naturally shouted
that it was a foul and that Humphries was beaten. Mr. Combe, the
other umpire, held his tongue, refusing to give an opinion. That
should have been sufficient. But Mendoza’s second lost his temper
and shouted across the ring to Tom Johnson, who was once again
seconding Humphries, that he was a liar and a scoundrel. This
observation may not have been strictly to the point, but the point
(save that of the jaw) is the last consideration when feeling runs
high on notable public occasions. Johnson said nothing and began to
cross the ring in his slow, heavy way, looking very dangerous. But a
diversion interrupted a promising bye-battle, for Humphries stood up
and called on Mendoza to continue fighting, carrying the war, as it
were, into the enemy’s country by taunting him with cowardice.
Mendoza was willing enough, but his backers held him back.
Humphries then threw up his hat and challenged the Jew to a fresh
battle, and at last they fell to again. And yet again Mendoza showed
himself the better man, knocking Humphries down twice in
succession. For half an hour the second act of this drama continued
indecisive, though Mendoza was evidently the better and more skilful
man. He now punished Humphries severely, closing one of his eyes,
severely cutting his forehead and lip. He had little in return, though
Humphries had put in some heavy body-blows at close quarters
which had made the Jew wince. But throughout the second half of
the fight Humphries fought with perfect courage and even
confidence. Then at last he again fell without a blow, and Mendoza
was declared the winner.

Broughton and Slack.

In the memorable battle at the Amphitheatre, on Tuesday April 10,

1750.

Copied by Permission from the Original Painting in the possession

of Mr. Thomas Belcher.

Published Sept. 23, 1879 by G. Smooten, 150 St. Martins Lane.

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