Daniel Mendoza and Perceptions of Jews in Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century England.

Daniel Mendoza: The Prize Ring and Perceptions of the Jews in Eighteenth and
Nineteenth Century England.
 By Ray Esten 

This article endeavours to show ways in which Jews in late eighteenth and early

nineteenth century England transcended oppressive structures through challenging myths of inferiority.  

Reading in the early eighteenth-century one might come upon the name Jew beside words

and phrases like vicious, corrupt, physically weak or easily victimized. Beside

such common tropes, however, existed a more benevolent attitude, like that of

Sir Walter Scott who sympathetically depicted the Jews as a people who had

nobly endured terrible persecution. Yet, there was another category made

manifest through the Jewish boxer Daniel Mendoza, 1764-1836.

In the eighteenth century, prize fights were attended by the social hierarchy,

including King George III. They celebrated pugilism as a form of 'democratic

courage.' This meant that the plain John Bull or the working-class Englishman

could look upon the champions of the noble art as heroes to be regarded with

awe and admiration.

The prize fighter symbolised Englishness, especially during the French Revolution

and threats of war with France. In this context, the Prize Ring (a place that

encompassed varied sets of groups and individuals) was but a manifestation of a

coming together or a commonality of diverse people during a time of

unpredictability. A situation that may have aided Mendoza’s rise up the

societal ladder.

Whatever the case, Mendoza began challenging stereotypes of Jewishness or what it meant

to be a Jew? when he entered into the Prize Ring in the 1780s. His early

successes, often over larger men, presented him as a man superior to his

gentile neighbours. And while, his first fight with Richard Humphries (marketed

on racial hostilities) reinforced his position as ‘the Jew’ or other. His

subsequent wins over his old mentor highlighted Mendoza as a particularly

skilled pugilist.

His prowess in the ring attracted high-ranking individuals, including the Welsh

'baroner' Sir Thomas Apprice. Mendoza was a constant companion at his villa in

Epping Forest. This relationship not only helped redefine Mendoza’s social

mobility but also influenced wider society’s perceptions of Jews. It was

perhaps symbolic in its achievement—something the lofty language of social

reform had often failed to accomplish. What is evident is that the noted

‘Fighting Jew’ would be grudgingly acknowledged and then celebrated.

England and the Sephardic Jews

The word Sephardic refers to the Jews of the Iberian Peninsula (modern day Spain and

Portugal). The Spanish Inquisition established by the Catholic Monarchy in the

fifteenth Century served as a tribunal to identify heretics. Johnathan Ray

estimates that in 1492 it expelled some 80,000 Jews which resulted in the end

of open Jewish life in that country. The Portuguese Inquisition which followed

in 1536 was equally as brutal in that recalcitrant Judaizer, and other

offenders were to be, for example, burnt alive. Some of those who escaped

settled in European countries, who had previously excluded them. The Sephardic

community who spawned Daniel Mendoza gravitated to England They appear to have

found London as satisfactory, as they would Antwerp or Rotterdam.

All Jews had been expelled from England in 1290 and returned during the rule of Oliver

Cromwell (c. 1655). While there continued to be anti-Jewish sentiments in

England, however, it had not adopted the Ghetto system which existed in Rome

for three centuries, with its gates opened at dawn and shut at dusk. This may

suggest a closer working relationship between Jews and Christians. In

consequence, it could be expected that they might attend or practice the same

sports. In London they encountered sports like cockfighting and bull-baiting.

Rowdy affairs which supplemented drinking and gambling. This reflected a loosening of

morals during the Restoration of the Stuart Monarchy 1660-1685. While there is

scant reference to boxing at this time. The prize fighter was soon to become a

feature of cities and towns. This practice as its most basic concerned two

individuals fighting with bare-knuckles, until one went down and could not rise

again.

It does not appear that the Sephardic community, affluent and associated with commerce

and banking, gravitated towards it. Their reasons are manifold, and gambling,

for instance, a central feature of rowdy sports, went against Jewish teaching.

The Christian Pugilist

The first champion of the Prize Ring James Figg (1700-1734) received the

sponsorship of wealthy backers who ensured that he had his own indoor boxing

arena. And Jack Broughton (1704-1789) a protégé of Figg and later champion was

endorsed by the Duke of Cumberland. Both Figg (of Oxfordshire) and Broughton

(of London?) may have reached local or regional celebrity before they became

national ones. For, national identity had not really taken root until the late

nineteenth century, for local, and regional identities served to complicate and

compromise. However, the fact that Figg was acclaimed Champion of England and

Broughton was financed by Cumberland does suggest a strong sense of identity.

Advertisement for Figgs Arena 

Whatever the case, this identity was fundamentally Christian, and both Figg and

Broughton were, if practicing or not, Church of England members. The England in

which they operated could be characterised as a confessional state, one which

officially recognised and practiced a certain religion, at least at the highest

level in society. However, as is evident, it was not a society wholly dependent

on popular morality, piety, or denominational uniformity (be they Dissenters or

Anglicans). Though, what they did share was Protestantism. In the Prize Ring,

it reflected a form of bravery that was considered Protestant too.

The Jew as ‘other’ 

Despite this, we do find Jewish pugilists in the

eighteenth century, for instance, a severe prize fight was undertaken by the

noted fighting Jew and the little fighting shoemaker at Stepney Fields in 1771.

Nevertheless, the ‘noted ‘fighting Jew’ was not yet a component of English

identity. In comparison to their Christian neighbours, Jews were perceived to

be physically weak and easily victimized. They could also be unscrupulous in

business and criminal in character, or so it was claimed.  Such simplism

was expressed by one critic writing in the Public Adviser in 1772. This author

stated that the Jews should be the objects of revenue. Whilst he does not state

outright that their heavy taxation would have the effect of forcing them from

the Kingdom. He does see them as undesirables. For ‘they pursue their interests

without restraint or administration.’

Without reserve he adds that ‘’every individual of the whole body of the Jews, if born

in England or not are not only aliens, but they are at this day by virtue of

the act of parliament what never has been appealed, under the Anathema and

predicaments of exiles and outlaws and therefore this being true, their

residence in this country is utterly illegal.’ Besides questioning the

status of Jews as citizens, the writer recites common tropes, counting usury

(money lending), the clipping of coin and the Jew as an expert forger. That

they had ‘made England ‘the land of milk and money’ and have ‘never sweat at a

mechanical art or striking a single stroke of trade’ Whilst claiming, at the

same time, that such exiles and outlaws gather around the Royal Exchange in

such numbers ‘that you would think they carry the commerce of the

nation.' 

On such account, observers may have found it unlikely that Jews possessed the

physicality or mental resolve needed for prize fighting or what the Fancy

(followers of pugilism) called ‘bottom’ which was a combination of wind

(physical training and diet) and more importantly spirit (courage) the first

equipment of a pugilist. That, ‘without this substantial thing, both art and

strength will avail a man but little.’ It could be that the Prize Ring

remained, ‘’ not only an English sport ‘it was the English sport,’ a stern,

stark, fierce contest between two brawny specimens of English Protestant

manhood. 'Hence, pugilist glory revolved around a particular form of English

courage, which manifested especially when the war with France loomed

(1778-1783).

The making of a Jewish Prize Fighter: Clive Emsley has argued

that capitalisation of industry and industrialisation was perhaps the most

significant aspect of British society from 1780-1830, however, in the

conscience of the people it was war. This particularly loomed large between

1793 and 1815. This could be argued to have helped sustain a Protestant

identity, in opposition to catholic continental Europe. Then again, this danger

could equally have fostered a commonality amongst a diverse population. When,

prize fighting, which reached its zenith in the 1780s, was at its most

diverse. It was dominated by a whole host of identities, often competing,

counting religious identities of course Protestants, but also Jews, Catholics,

mostly Irish, alongside Gypsies and those of African descent. While the

aristocracy, who had abandoned prize fighting on Broughton’s defeat in 1750,

once again showed interest. Most considerably, the Prince of Wales and other

wealthy backers helped ease the position of the Jews in England by offering

royal patronage. While also marking out Daniel Mendoza, a Sephardic Jew as a

particular specimen of pugilistic courage.

Who was Mendoza, ‘the Jew' Daniel Mendoza (1764-1836) was born in London to

second-generation Spanish and Portuguese parents. Just fourteen years after the

Jew Bill introduced by Pelham as reform measure which would soften the civil

disabilities of the Jewish community in Britain were met with intolerance and

high church hostility and was as a result repealed. The Sephardic community

which he belonged to had been traditionally quite wealthy. The Mendoza family

may have been marginally middle class. Mendoza received a Hebrew education,

though not beyond his bar mitzvah. His views on religion would be harder to

distinguish. Though a story published in Famous Fights cites his visit to Jesus

College, Cambridge, where he paused at a map of Egypt and the Holy lands and in

what has been described as ‘very choice English’, he gave his opinion on Moses

(not complimentary) as well as miracles and the passing of the Red Sea. The

vigour of his language and lack of reverence was recorded. Even so, what it is

to be Jewish or a Jew is infinite and what is being illustrated in this context

is identity rather than dissent or devotion. Mendoza was a Jew as he was born

into that community. 

Fighting Back: Yet, in contrast to the earlier position of Jews

and as the child of immigrant parents, he would have gained the right to own

property freely. Though he was still excluded from, if he so wished, holding

public office. The various jobs he obtained, however, before seeking

significant prize money, did relate to the poorer classes, the best perhaps a

tea dealer. Which may challenge his middle-class status or signal a fall in

status. In the account of his early life published in 1816 The Memoirs of

the Life of Daniel Mendoza he depicts incidents and insults which caused him to

raise his fists. His first fight at the age of sixteen ensued in a dispute with

a tea porter. It was more of a street fight than an organised prize

fight. Mendoza entered the Prize Ring in September of 1787. At this time,

‘the Jew’ was affixed to the end of a name so as to set it apart from Christian

opponents (afterwards adopted by Mendoza). In comparison to his adversary Harry

‘the Coal Heaver’ a heavyset man Mendoza appeared small. Yet he won the contest

convincingly, even if he did not fit the profile of a heavyweight, with a

weight of around 73 kg with a height of 5 feet 7 inches.

The ‘Star of Israel’ In the field and in the Synagogue: 

In 1788 he was back in the ring when he fought Martin ‘the Bath Butcher’ (opponents'

colourful names reflect their employment and social status). Mendoza, better

described as a middleweight, defeated the large ‘Bath Butcher’ most decisively.

In attendance was the Prince of Wales and others of distinction. Subsequently,

it was stated that Christians as well as Israelites gave Mendoza the applause

he well deserved. Mr. Deard, a judge in these matters, exclaimed Mendoza to be,

’a Jewl of a fellow.' This was an early indication that as a Jew he could earn

respect first within the ring. Yet, there are still obstacles to his

acceptance which are exposed by the criticism of his mode of fighting, which

was described by one critic as’ dexterity without grace’ although he utilised,

for example, the jab, fine footwork, and a crouched defence deemed which was

described as ‘low and cunning’ In other words it was not a stand-up English

fight associated with Christian bravery. Whereas, Mendoza’s style was possibly considered

to be deceitful.

Nonetheless, afterwards he was accompanied triumphantly by thousands of Israelites with

lighted torches and marital music. That Tuesday recorded in The Freeman’s

Journal or The North American Intelligencer the whole synagogue sung Io

triumphe to honour the Jew beating the Christian. Undoubtedly the deed was of

such importance that it found expression in the synagogue While Mendoza was yet

to obtain a championship he proclaimed to be one. However, at the time the term

champion meant any fighting man who championed a cause which according to

Christopher Johnson recalled the world of romance and chivalry. Possibly

Mendoza could be championing another cause, Jewish equality.

Fighting for the Jews: In 1788, 1789 and 1790 Mendoza engaged in highly

publicised contests with Richard Humphries. The fights tapped into late

eighteenth-century fears of a burgeoning Jewish population. In fact, their

first contest was also the first in which the fighters’ careers were marketed

on racial hostilities. Mendoza lost this affair after he fell on the

rain-soaked stage badly spraining his ankle and then reluctantly acknowledged

the superiority of his opponent. It was necessary to release black pigeons to

bear the gloomy news intelligence to the twelve Tribes of Moses. In the Derby

Mercury’s assessment due credit was to be given to the Jew for his skill, and

to the Christian for his courage. Humphries complimented Mendoza on his pluck

but afterwards wrote to his patron, ‘I have done the Jew, and am in good

health.’

Crabb and Other Fighting Jews: In June, The Times observed that public appetite

for prize-fighting had subsided. Mendoza, it predicted, would return to his

butcher’s knife, while Humphries would resume his work as a bailiff’s follower.

Such a brutal spectacle, the paper insisted, could not long endure in a

civilised society. Not every publication, however, shared this concern. A few

days later the Belfast Newsletter heaped praise not on Mendoza, but Elisha

Crabb ‘the Jew’ who faced the pupil of that famous English battler Ward. Crabb

was seconded by the Irish champion Ryan. It was said to have been one of the

best battles ’that we ever witnessed’ Crabb ‘a creature of astonishing

harness and can withstand as much beating as any man in England.’ The Belfast

publication (with a large Protestant readership) had given ‘the fighting Jew’ a

certain respect. 

By this time, it must be noted that Mendoza was a popular trainer of the amateurs and

it was reported, for example, that Jack Broughton, who introduced rules to the

sport, planned to visit the Jew Academy (Mendoza’s Boxing Club). For the

occasion Mendoza purchased a highchair which would serve as a throne for the

father of boxing. It appears that his Jewishness was in good standing, however,

when he travelled in Belfast just after, Mendoza let it be known that he would

not distinguish himself in that city. He would be chiefly associating himself

with people of the Jewish persuasion. That he would not fight unless receiving

great provocation. By this time, however, it had attracted interest that he

should meet Humphries once more. Which the Belfast Newsletter printed; it was

‘all my eye’ (complete nonsense). For they might not find any dupes to back a

future contest or that it had already been decided for Humphries.

More crucially, perhaps, it made comparisons between Jews and Christians by relating

John Milton’s epic poem Paradise Lost and the related work of John Dryden, The

State of Innocence and the Fall of Man. Contemplating how Milton made Adam his

hero and Dryden had made the devil his. Both have a place in society. Perhaps

it was that the Jew and the Gentile would now be reconciled, the wreath a

symbol of a lost pure love or as it was more elegantly put at the time ‘as

Dryden gave the palm to the devil perhaps the world may now give the wreath to

the Jews.’

Mendoza: Boxing Celebrity

‘What a

damnable shame to spoil’d by a curst little Jew from Duke’s Place’

Mendoza and Humphries fought during the French Revolution (1789-1794). Their last two

fights dated 1789 and in 1790, decided decisively that Mendoza was the better

man. The revolution in France had brought a change of status to Jews (1791),

however, in England it only brought into question their loyalty. However,

Mendoza enjoyed greater social mobility and, for example, he was a constant

companion and an open guest at the villa of Welsh baronet Sir Thomas Apprice,

an avid boxer. 

Looking back to 1788, for instance, Mendoza’s skills in the ring were described

discouragingly by the Edinburgh Magazine as ‘dexterity without grace 'which

reflected assumptions of the cunning and devious Jew. Yet, by the following

year he had released the very same skills in print, The Art of Manual Defence;

or System of Boxing (1789). A publication that was well received and done much

to enhance his celebrity, which also manifested as memorabilia. Yet, it was a

precarious fame, for if boxing lost favour so would Mendoza. While always in

defence of the Noble Art, understood only too well its dubious legality (and

knowing that it had several moral enemies) conceded in the preface to the book

The Modern Art of Boxing, as practiced by Mendoza, Humphries, Ryan, Ward,

Watson, Johnson, and other eminent pugilists that it bordered on brutality and

blackguardism.

A Hero of the Britons Perhaps? Yet blood sports retained a certain reverence, for

they kept men fighting fit and ready for war. Writing in the Morning Post in

1801, one commentator anticipated the decline of boxing and bull-baiting as

‘components of British bravery’. He invoked the misfortunes of 1783—the close

of the American Revolution and the formal recognition of the United States.

Moreover, the writer points to Johnson, Humphries and Mendoza (without

attaching ‘the Jew’ to the end of the latter’s name) as those who ‘elevated Great

Britain, once more, a commanding and sovereign power.’ Stating that neither

Shakespeare or Congreve could perform without a sparring scene at the Theatre.

That, the ‘glory of our nation may again revive, and Jacobitism, Republicanism,

French principles sedition, anarchy, and everything else we have been fighting

against will receive an irrecoverable and final knockdown blow’ This belief

reflected a sense of nationhood which was sustained through rowdy sports, and

was elevated by the great champions Mendoza.

The Fighting Jew as Standard

Dutch Sam 

   

During the 1800s, and with the rise of Jewish battlers like Dutch Sam (active between

1775-1816) who received regular backing amongst Jews and Christians alike. The

social reformer Francis Place could frankly state that Mendoza had spread

amongst the Jews the art of boxing and they had become generally expert at it.

The impression of the Jew as a boxer became ingrained in society that, for

example, a play featured at Covent Garden in 1802 with a focus on Jewish love,

and featuring the actor (John) Fawcett, incorporated a pugilistic scene. For in

the third verse, Miss Moses, receives boxing lessons from her brother. When the

play was first promoted; this scene brought a strong hiss from the pit and

gallery. The hissing by some in attendance could have been by angry Jews or

Christians that they took issue with Jewish boxing or that a Jew female could

box. Nonetheless, it makes some reference to the ‘noted fighting Jew’ and The

Morning Post noted that it was justice to the Jews who did not take part in the

hissing but warmly applauded Fawcett and laughed with the Jewish love story.

Prize Fighting vs. Religious Devotion: This is not to argue that rowdy sports were wholly

embraced by Jews or for that matter Christians. A Christian sermon preached at

Berks in 1802, for example, called into question, bull baiting, mercenary

pugilism which had done little to service the soldiers or citizens. Equally, in

1805 two Jews who attended a prize fight were summoned to the synagogue by the

high priest, in violation of the sabbath. They had to obey a penance and should

do their utmost to ‘suppress practices so contrary to religion, morality, and

the existing laws.' Yet, more broadly Mendoza could be held up as a figure of

British masculinity. Notably during 1803-1805 when the country was under

serious threat from France. The Spirit of boxing being frequently quoted in

this period, as a mark of unity in a time of war.

Changing Attitudes: The Mendoza Legacy

Young Joseph. One of many prominent Jewish boxers 

In conclusion: It is difficult to state categorically what

influence Daniel Mendoza exerted on the equality of Jews. It cannot be claimed

that Jews thereafter received widespread admiration from Christians, given that

Jewish Emancipation remained a long and arduous process. Yet the symbolic

significance of the “noted fighting Jew” cannot be ignored. The Prize Ring at

times appeared to transcend antisemitism. Mendoza’s first contest with

Humphries was marketed on racial hostilities, but the subsequent two fights

certainly altered perceptions. This shift may have reflected a new period of

Jewish self-assertion. It may also suggest that a diverse populace (Christians,

Jews and others) -those “John Bulls” shared a single identity, or at least

experienced a commonality, rooted culturally in the prize-fighter as the true

specimen of courage.

From Mendoza’s birthplace sprang a strong band of Jewish boxers. The old Wonderland (1890s)

in Whitechapel (and later Premierland) became a nursery for young fighters, as

did the Judean Club. Names like Young Aschel Joseph, who like the great Jewish

boxing promoter Jack Solomon, was born in Petticoat Lane, and was revered by

thousands of sporting fans.