George Morland 



a similar joy in playing the lord bountiful to a crowd of ne'r-do-wells 

 and hangers-on. 



To modern readers who have not studied the social side 

 of the eighteenth century, the fact that Morland attended 

 cock-fights, prize-fights, bull-baiting exhibitions, and wrestling- 

 matches, may seem a proof of his inherent vulgarity, but it must 

 not be forgotten that noble young bloods of the time would not be 

 above taking off their coats in the public highway or in the ring and 

 having a bout with a brawny butcher or any expert in the fine art 

 of pugilism. To have stood up to the " Game Chicken," or to the 

 " Bantam of Bermondsey," was an honour held dear by many a 

 young gentleman whose forefathers had fought at Agincourt and 

 whose family escutcheon showed many quarterings. 



Morland became such an enthusiastic patron of pugilism that he 

 hired a room in the neighbourhood which he kept as a school for 

 sparring, providing generous entertainment and giving prizes to 

 well-known boxers and their pupils who frequented this academy 

 of sport. The place, however, became so disorderly, and so much 

 damage was done to the room, that the landlord was soon glad to 

 get rid of such dangerous and damaging tenants. 



Morland, in spite of his enthusiasm, does not seem to have been 

 much of a hand with the gloves. A story is told of a pugilist named 

 Ward who, having obtained Morland's consent for him to borrow a 

 horse out of the stable, took the best animal there, and failed to 

 return it. When Morland missed it, and questioned Ward about it, 

 the fellow impudently confessed that he had sold the horse. Morland, 

 whose temper was hot enough at times, would have liked to pay 

 himself back by hard knocks at Ward's rascally head, but the 

 pugilist was the better man in a stand-up fight, and the artist, 

 recognising this, allowed the debt to go unpaid and un- 

 punished. 



On another occasion, when he was at the rooms of the famous 

 prize-fighter Bob Parker, with whom he was on close terms of 

 friendship, the Duke of Hamilton, who was also a patron of the 

 sport, looked in, and " graciously " invited the artist to have a bout 

 with him. But Morland was either too much abashed at the 

 honour of unching a Duke's head, or too incompetent to do it, for 



as 



