Collier, ‘Wrestling’ (1898)

WRESTLING
THE CORNISH AND DEVONSHIRE STYLES

Wrestling is a very ancient game. Jacob wrestled with an angel, recorded in Scripture of great antiquity. The Greeks wrestled at the Isthmian and Olympic games, and later the Amphitheatre of Rome was a wrestling ring. It was a game in those days for the amusement of the public, though it was a matter of life and death. The wrestlers played without clothing, and they anointed their bodies with grease to make the hold or grip a slippery piece of work.

At the present day in India wrestling matches can be seen between the natives, who play as the ancients did, without clothing, and their play is a serious affair.

The player’s hold was round the body, and the fall was severe. The player who gave the fall fell as heavily as he could on the fallen man, and if the fallen man was maimed, or, better still, killed, great was the joy of the public.

The word wrestle is English, not of the Greek or Roman classics, and is always pronounced by the players of Cornwall and Devonshire wrastle. It is wrastling in Chaucer, and in old verse; there is also in Dr. Murray’s ‘Oxford English Dictionary,’ under the word ‘HEEL 20, 1600,’ a quotation from Shakespeare’s ‘As You Like It’—’It is young Orlando who tript up the wrastler’s heeles, and your heart, both in an instant.’ It would appear, therefore, that wrastling is good old English, and so let our West Countrymen wrastle. The word is a fine word, and lends itself to metaphor, as when a holy man wrestles (Page 194) in prayer, though the allegory may be somewhat obscure to Worldly-wiseman. I knew an under-gardener, given to quoting Scripture, who said he had been ‘wrastling with the Devil all the morning, and had a draw’d un a vine turn.’ What sort of temptation the Devil may have represented in his case did not appear. Wrestle, therefore, is a fine word, and to wrestle an undoubtedly fine and ancient game.

There are only two styles of wrestling in England worth talking about. The West Country—Cornwall and Devonshire style; and the North Country — Cumberland and Westmoreland style. There is, or was, a Lancashire style, which calls for no particular notice. The contrast between the North Country style and the West Country style is great, and explains by comparison the characteristics of the West Country style. In the West Country players play for a

[IMAGE: Black and white photograph of a man in wrestling attire, labeled “ABRAHAM CANN Height, 5 ft. 8¼ in.; weight, 12 st. 7 lb.; age, 30 (From an old print)”]

hitch. In the North Country the hold is taken more after the manner of the ancients; each player rests his chin on the right shoulder of the other, and grasping him round the body, each having his left arm over the right shoulder, and the right arm under the left shoulder of the other, clasps hands at the back. This is a firm hold, without playing for a hitch, and the wrestle for a fall is a matter of skill, strength, and weight. A fall is a fall, there is no question of a ‘fair back,’ and sometimes a wrestler, in giving a fall, fell also on his man as heavily as he could, inflicting much injury.

In Shakespeare’s ‘As You Like It,’ Charles, the Duke’s wrestler, breaks the ribs of three sons of an old man.

Orlando says, ‘But let your fair eyes, and gentle wishes, go with me to my trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one dead that is willing to be so.’

On the Duke saying in the case of Orlando, ‘You shall try but one fall,’ Charles answers, ‘No, I warrant your grace; you shall not entreat him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him from a first.’

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But Charles is thrown, cannot speak, and is borne out.

This wrestling in Shakespeare’s day—and Shakespeare was sure to know all about it—was evidently in the North Country style, and rough play enough.

Rosalind says, ‘Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler?’ ‘No, fair princess,’ says Orlando, ‘he is the general challenger: I come but in, as others do, to try with him the strength of my youth.’

In the West Country style there would have been a ring prepared, and anyone might have thrown in his cap as a challenge to any other who was ready to take his part in the play.

There have been, and there are still, instances in the West Country when a wrestler of repute will challenge another, and will play it out, the best of three falls, as it is in the North Country; but a proper wrestling match in the West Country is a different affair altogether.

Polkinghorne and Abraham Cann played a famous challenge match at Morris Town, Devonport, in 1826. Polkinghorne, an enormous man of great power and fame, was the Cornish champion, and played the Cornish play. Abraham Cann was above the middle height as a man, endowed with surprising strength of limb, especially in the legs, and played the Devonshire play.

There has always been a dispute about this match, and the best authorities seem to pronounce it to have been a drawn game. Enthusiasts on one side or the other claim the falls, the best of three, for their own county champion. Abraham Cann is said to have kicked mightily on the occasion; some say he was allowed but one shoe, and it is not unlikely that the three falls, or the two out of three, were not given by either.

Gundry, the champion of Cornwall, played a match with a North Country player. The North Country man, justly confident perhaps in his own powers, said that Gundry might take any hitch he pleased. As he was to play the North Country style against the West Country style, he had to wear the West Country jacket for Gundry’s accommodation. Gundry took his own particular hitch, and reduced the North Country man to something like clay in the hands of the potter.

Gundry is here dressed in his ordinary clothes, with his champion’s belts and his wrestling jacket.

[IMAGE: Black and white photograph of a man in formal dress with wrestling attire, labeled “GUNDRY, CHAMPION OF CORNWALL”]

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West Country wrestling in the style proper and peculiar to Cornwall and Devonshire is played in a large ring, sometimes on the turf, or on a spot of ground under cover or otherwise prepared for a fall with sawdust. It used to be (it is sad to write such bygone words) at well-known times, at well-known places, such as Whitsuntide at some great fair, where all the wrestling world in Cornwall or Devonshire, or both, would assemble.

[IMAGE: Black and white photograph showing two wrestlers in action, labeled “SHAKING HANDS”]

In describing the West Country play it will be seen that it is quite distinct and different from any other style of play. Also that the Cornish and Devonshire styles are the same, though a variation has taken place, not improbably the consequence of some champion players in each county playing the play that suited them best, followed afterwards by all players of their county.

The ring is open to all comers, and any man may throw in his cap, to try a turn with any other who does the same.

The wrestling dress is peculiar to the West Country, and marks the style of play. It consists of breeches or trousers. In the days of breeches the leg was a handsome limb to be admired, not concealed by that ugliest of all contrivances by way of costume—the trouser. Then there was the all-important wrestling jacket, the only part of the dress by which a hold, or West Country hitch, could be got by the rules of the play. This jacket, with the hitch, is a West Country peculiarity, which distinguishes it from all other play. The jacket is short and loose, made of exceedingly tough linen stuff, untearable; it has short loose sleeves reaching nearly to the wrist, it extends to a little below the waist, and is tied firmly but loosely by tough strings round the neck. Wrestlers are clothed in nothing else, except worsted stockings or socks, in Cornwall, with the addition of shoes in Devonshire.

Three good and true men are appointed as sticklers, who are the only persons allowed in the ring besides the players, and it is their office to watch the players and decide whether the play be fair, and, in the case of a fall, whether it be a fair back or not. For a fair back both shoulders and one hip must touch the ground at the same time, or both hips and one shoulder. Such a fall is called a three-point fall, and is the usual fall. But sometimes a (Page 197) four-point fall has been agreed upon, which requires both shoulders and both hips to touch the ground when the back fall—it is always the back of course—is given. The sticklers are old well-known players, and their decision, in the palmy days of wrestling, was not questioned. The word stickler is a good word, to be found in Sir Philip Sidney’s ‘Arcadia,’ for an umpire or arbitrator.

The men having stepped into the ring, they shake hands, then separate, and the play begins by playing for a hitch. Each player wants to get his own favourite hitch, and to prevent the other from getting his. This leads to a good deal of dodging play, the players crouching and avoiding one another, very interesting to the lookers-on who know the game, and amusing to ignorant idlers. Gundry has been known to play half an hour for his hitch, which, when got, was a sore discomfort to the other man. The hitch having been got, whether the right one or not, the play for the fall begins. A player who gives a fall stays in the ring for the next player, and when he has given two falls he is a standard. There are never too many players, and the first day is usually taken up in making standards. In the case of a great well-known player, that he may be free for the better play to follow, it is by the consent of the sticklers allowed that a faggot may give him his back. The word faggot, known so well in the wrestling rings of the West, is to be found in Dr. Murray’s ‘Oxford English Dictionary’: ‘7. A person temporarily hired to supply a deficiency at the muster—a dummy. 1700.’ But a faggot, giving his back without the consent of the sticklers, just to serve a friend or for a bribe, would be hissed out of the ring.

(Page 198) Standards having been made, the double play begins. And here I will quote an old song, ‘The Press Gang,’ which aptly illustrates West Country wrestling:

When I went up to Plymouth Town,
Along with a great man a ostling,
I went over to Cremyl green
For to have a turn to wrastling.
A gold-lace hat, he was the prize,
Never the worse for wear.
Dick Symons and me drawed two valls apiece,
And the blind-man come in vor a share.

Just as the double play begins,
The glock he had knocked down zix,
A passel of chaps come up to the ring,
And they’d a got zwords and sticks;
They abooed Dick Symons and darned his eyes,
And called un all zorts o’ names.
‘Darn ‘ee,’ says I, ‘Dick Symons,’ says I,
‘They’ve a parlctly spiled the games.’

 

Then up comed a teller with a great cocked hat,
He zeemed for to be the King.
‘Darn ‘ee,’ says I, ‘eff you’ve any consait,
Will ‘ee plaze to stap into the ring?’

But they hauled us down to the water zide,
And draw’d us into a boat.
‘Darn ‘ee,’ says I, ‘Dick Symons,’ says I,
‘They’ve a got the both ov’s a-vloat.’

The prize of a gold-laced hat is explained by the following extract from the ‘Monthly Packet.’ ‘In the diary of Penelope Sydenham, daughter of John Sydenham of Dulverton, describing a visit to London with Mrs. Yarde of Trobridge, Crediton, in the summer of 1762, the following statement occurs: “Bucks with hats looped up with gold lace, a sign to protect them from press-gang capture, were presented to her.”‘

In the days of the song it seems there was a well-known blind wrestler. What have not blind men done!

Supposing there were twenty standards left in, the double play would begin by the sticklers matching them with each other, and ten would be left for the treble play.

The players then would be reduced to five, and then to three, naturally a very select company, when very fine play might be expected.

Large rings might be formed, and very good play seen, but when a champion, or a very great man, was expected to appear, the excitement was intense, and the public of all ranks eagerly watched the play.

The play of Cornwall and Devonshire is the same, with a difference. The wrestlers step into the ring in the same way, they wear the same clothing and jacket, and they play for a hitch in the same fashion. Sticklers are appointed, who keep the ring, and the public are present in crowds. In Cornwall, however, the man steps into the ring in his stockings or socks. In Devonshire he (Page 199) wears his shoes, made for the express purpose. He is bound by rule not to have any iron or other metal whatever in his shoe, but he has the soles so hardened by baking that they are very formidable weapons.

The difference in the play has been called the in-and-out play, the off-and-on play, the toe-and-heel play. Or the Cornish play— the hugging and heaving ; the Devonshire play — the kicking and tripping. It might be thus defined : in Cornwall the shoulders and arms are chiefly relied on, in Devonshire the legs.

In Cornwall the Cornish game is always played, in Devonshire the Devonshire game is played ; but on the borders of the counties, in Plymouth especially, where a great deal of play used to be seen, Cornwall and Devonshire met one another, and sometimes each would play his own game.

It is not difficult to understand the difference in the play, bearing in mind broadly the Cornish hug and the Devonshire kick. If an unlucky victim had to choose as a fate between one and the other, he might not be able to make up his mind in a hurry. But as the resort to kicking, instead of the true play, fell away sometimes into a kicking match, the Devonshire play got into disrepute, and the kicking was very properly held in scorn, especially in Cornwall.

The style of the two counties being the same, as explained, it cannot be said that in Cornwall the leg-play was not known, or in Devonshire the shoulder-play was not known, but it came to pass that in the one the shoulderplay was chiefly followed, and in the other the leg-play. The shoulder-play and the leg-play are here used shortly to refer to a great many different w r ays of throwring a man a back fall.

In Cornwall a player having got his hitch would proceed to very close quarters, the in-play or on-play, and taking his man round the body, not lower than tin w r aist, throw him over his shoulder, giving him the flying mare (w’hich is poetical enough, considering that Pegasus was a flying horse), and, turning him over on his back while falling, get the back fall. The flying (Page 200) mare might be an affair of some danger. There was a little man at Truro some years ago who could throw the biggest of men by the flying mare. He did not take more than a few minutes about it, and if he failed at first he failed altogether. Big men stood off from him. He was so short that before they could get a hitch of him he was under them, and the flying mare was their due.

In West Country wrestling it would appear that small men can enter the ring with big men, and that would be especially the case in the Devonshire play. At Penzance in the year 1839 I saw a great wrestling at fair time (I also saw ‘The Stranger’  played at the immortal Lawrence’s barracade (Footnote: 1 Cornish for the strolling players’ booth. French, baroque.)).  It was given out that the St. Just men would play the world — the Cornish world of course, though they were ready for all the world, no doubt. A very fine young St. Just man stepped into the ring with great confidence, and was followed, to my great surprise, but not to the surprise of the company in general, by a very small man. The small man gave himself up to the big young man without playing for a hitch, and was taken into the arms of the big one to be dealt with. Suddenly I saw the big one on his back, a fair back fall. It was done by the inside lock, leg-play.

In shoulder-play a little man could have but small chance with a big one, except in the case of the Truro man described, but in the leg-play he might trip up the giant.

Besides the flying mare, there is the cross-buttock fall in shoulder-play, the back heave, and others. In the leg-play, there are the fore-lock, the backlock, heaving toe, the back-heel, and others. Cornish players know them all, and Devonshire players know them all. Some are not readily played without the shoe, hence the lapse into kicking.

On the borders of the Tamar, at Plymouth, for example, famous wrestlings have taken place, and the best players of both counties have met there. In making the standards usually Cornwall would play Cornwall, and Devonshire Devonshire. And in the double play the sticklers would match them in like fashion, but in the end Cornwall must meet Devonshire, nothing loth on either side. The Cornish player would play for his hitch to draw his man in, the Devonshire man would play for his hitch to keep his man off. As long as the Devonshire player could keep his man ofl, he could play with his toe. The Cornish player did not seem to fear the kick, the stop to which is the knee. The kick, supposing the toe-play to be played without the savage kicking which was discountenanced for good-fellowship sake, is directed against the inside of the knee just under the joint. The stop is bending the knee to meet the kick, stopping the toe by receiving the shin against the knee, a most effective and punishing stop. In kicking the player must of necessity have but one leg on the ground, and having an off-hitch might be thrown by a quick player with a trip or a lock. The Devonshire play is a lively play : the kick and the leg-play in general must be very quick, and it is undoubtedly fine play when properly played. If the Cornish player were not throw’n in the Devonshire out-play, he would get his man too close to him for a kick, and try his own Cornish play on (Page 201) him. The Devonshire player would still play his leg-play, and a couple of hours might pass before one or the other got his back fall. The play would be W’ell understood and be intensely interesting to a large company, the rivalry between the two counties always being at fever heat.

I well remember Johnny Jordan, an enormous Devonshire player, who used to walk about Plymouth in his old age. I also remember James Cann, a brother of Abraham Cann, and himself a well-known wrestler, who in his later years was an under-gamekeeper, respected for his fearlessness when poachers were to the fore.

I am much indebted to Mr. Michael Henry Williams, of Pencalenick, who is a great admirer of wrestling, and wrestled himself as a boy, for much information that he has given me, also for the photograph of the Indian wrestling which heads this article, and the portrait of Gundry.

Has football taken the place of wrestling, even in Cornwall where kicking is despised ? In football there are symptoms of a degeneration into kicking matches. Is the fine manly game of wrestling to be one of the victims of this nineteenth century, civilised off the face of the earth ? I have even heard that the police constable has taken upon himself to put a stop to young men playing to wrastling in their own fields. Have w T e come to this ? Is Bumbledom to reign over us? And is the law really ‘ a hass ’ ? I appeal to Cornwall to re-establish wrestling as a famous and manly West Country play.

W. F. Collier.

References:

• Hargreaves, J. (1986). Sport, Power and Culture. Polity Press.
• Holt, R. (1989). Sport and the British: A Modern History. Oxford University Press.
• Malcolmson, R.W. (1973). Popular Recreations in English Society 1700-1850. Cambridge University Press.

Collier, W. F. (1898). ‘Wrestling: The Cornish and Devonshire Styles’, in The Cornish Magazine (Vol. I, 1898, pp. 193-201). Available online via Archive.org, digitised by Google.