Wilson presents to us a spectacular book steeped in history and the ever-present folklore surrounding the grand art of wrestling. Based mainly around the collar and elbow style of wrestling, made famous by Irish immigrants, "The Magnificent Scufflers" sheds light on the life and times of the forefathers of true American wrestling. Men like Henry Moses Dufur, Ed Decker, E.C. Gallagher, and Art Griffith paved the way for many others to follow.

Wilson delights reader's imagination by weaving accounts of some of the most famous bouts in the early history of American wrestling. Possibly the most interesting aspect of this book is that it gives the reader an undeniable look inside the live of American wrestling greats. Many grapplers, who we might have never heard of, are profiled. Viro Small, America's first black professional wrestler, is profiled in the book. His journey from slavery in South Carolina led North to the saloons of New York City where he ended as a bouncer plying his trade against the rough and tumble men that only the New York streets could produce.

On Viro Small's work as a bouncer, Wilson writes:

"Viro was the right man of any hour. He was warm natured, courteous, and sympathetic toward the live and let live customers, yet he was also strong of body and will power. Though Viro stalwartly declined to get rough with any customer with minor transgressions such as running out of money, any patron who was disposed to start fights or bully or use objectionable language was as good as in the gutter the moment he opened up. Viro was also a man of extremely rapid motions and almost uncanny talents for removing pistols or knives and replacing drawn weapons with fractured arms or wrists or tranquilizing uppercuts, but always, of course, in a courteous manner."



Another wrestler profiled I the book is James Hiram McLaughlin. McLaughlin, though not originally a collar and elbow style wrestler, gained his fame through many catch-as-catch-can mat wars. Wilson writes about McLaughlin:

"….he almost instantly took down the professed Pacific Coast champion Michael (Corduroy) Whelan, along with a reported $15,000 in gold for himself and his backers-if truthfully reported, the biggest winnings in American wrestling history as of that time. Big Jimmy, 6 feet, 256 pounds and barrel-torsoed, won a succession of four bigtime rough-and-tumbles with only two mishaps: another of his adversaries (Dutch Hogan of Denver) ended the bout completely dead; Charles Meier of New York left the mat a permanent cripple."



These accounts are not the only ones that insist upon the serious nature of early wrestling bouts. Take this excerpt from the book for example. Wilson writes about an 1881 bout between Clarence "The Kansas Demon" Whistler and Bill Muldoon:

"The two met at Terrace Gardens. As the bout opened, the Police Force Apollo, whom the Demon sarcastically dubbed the Brass Button's Pet, turned to acknowledge the crowd's applause. Whistler shot behind him, pinned Bill to the mat and held him more or less supine for more than five hours.

When the referee called finish, both wrestlers found their tights had worn through at the knees where the skin was rubbed away and the exposed flesh left red and bleeding. Whistler, who had wrestled in stocking feet, noted that the soles of both his stockings were completely worn away. Muldoon's wrists were streaked with lines made crimson from pressure of his opponent's fingernails. (Rumor had it that Demon Whistler wore his nails long on purpose.)

Following the match Muldoon suffered many weeks from a malignant sore on his back where challenger Whistler had relentlessly ground his hairy head into the champion's flesh. Muldoon vowed that Whistler's hair had been purposefully saturated with ammonia.

With good reason the perceptive New York Herald dubbed the match a 'torture marathon,' noted that after willfully torturing his adversary for more than four hours, Demon Whistler, who, by the way was a cousin of the artist James McNeill Whistler, had lost most of his right ear from pulling out of a powerful head lock.

The wonder was the grim durability of these fairly typical professional wrestlers of that grim decade, the 1880s. The eight hour draw did not establish a time record. But the eight hours were saturated with sheerest torture."



Not all the tales spun in this book are that of a fighting nature. The humorous side of the wrestlers is also portrayed. Collar and Elbow wrestling was born in rural Vermont. The slow, laid back ways of the scuffling country boys have always been evident. Though a man could be a terror on the mat, a quick wit and gift of the gab never hurt when associating with the public. Such was the case when Ed Decker left his country home and made a trip out to the big city. Wilson writes:

"….remember that Little Ed somehow seemed to fit in wherever he was-village green, beer hall or in one of P.T. Barnum's glorified sideshows.

A typical example of the Decker adaptability and philosophy occurred during June, 1887, when Ed, carrying his championship belt in a special suitcase, visited New York City in the occasional way of Vermonters. Naturally while in the big town he visited Harry Hill's on Houston Street. The lights burned rather brightly in the newly electrified tavern and Old Harry and his British accent were as prominently present as usual. Old Harry knew the real champions and he never knowingly permitted on to buy a drink; the snifter or the schooners were invariably on the house.

Ed Decker, as noted earlier, was not a drinking man. He had and usually kept a rule about that. But a really good rule is one which on a rare and very special occasion, such as this, permits an exception. Ed called for a schooner of beer. Discreetly Harry Hill reminded him that it is ordinarily advisable to begin with whiskey. 'You jolly well know, old chap, beer then whiskey, rawther risky; whiskey then beer, never fear.'

Little Ed started with a splash on the rocks and shortly thereafter dropped the subject of beer. He did not drop the much more intriguing subject of Harry Hill's Bar Maids. There were sixteen of them in all, and as a group they stood and delivered as the prettiest and wittiest chorus of bar maids in all New York.

After most of an hour and all of a bottle, Harry Hill inquired if his distinguished guest would choose a change of label. Ed Decker leaned on the rail of the small or host bar, and pondered the mirrored beauties behind the big bar. And presently he was heard to murmur. 'B'golly, figger I'll take 'em all!'

Harry Hill fingered his graying sideburns and touched ever so lightly the tips of his handlebar mustache. 'But Champion, old boy, there're sixteen of the girls!'

The visiting Vermonter nodded approval. The host revealed a slight but perceptible uneasiness. 'And two of the girls are quite tall, you know. Almost six feet. They would tower over you.'

Again Little Ed was heard to murmur. 'B'golly, reckon I'll just leave then two tall ones and take the balance.'

Harry Hill fondled his mustache with conspicuous concern. 'But Champ, wot would you do with fourteen girls? And wot in blimey would you expect them to do?'

Ed Decker's answer was purest Vermontese. 'Wrassle,' he said."

Over all, "The Magnificent Scufflers" is a fascinating account of the growth of wrestling in America. It is an intriguing book that holds tight rein on the reader's interest page after page. In my opinion, the only bad point of this book is that it had to eventually come to an end. It is truly the type of book that can be read (and thoroughly enjoyed) time and time again. If you are a fan of wrestling, history, or just generally enjoy a good book, "The Magnificent Scufflers" is one that will leave you satisfied and yearning for more.

*All excerpts taken from "The Magnificent Scufflers" by Charles Morrow Wilson (author). Published in 1959 by The Stephen Greene Press



Written by Steve Loftin (5 Apr 02)

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