Chapter IX · (continued 3)

It was a most distinguished, capital fight on both sides, and, in a word, the men covered themselves with pugilistic glory. Holt was rather too stale for his opponent; he had also some of his teeth dislodged. A handsome subscription was made for Holt.

Holt now bade adieu to the ring, in which, if he had not done what Addison declares is not within the power of mortals, namely, “command success,” he had done more, “deserved it.” Time, however, and the Fates brought round another scrimmage in the shape of a room fight, with the never-to-be-forgotten Jack Scroggins, whose “ghost” long “revisited the pale glimpses of the moon” in the poetic gaggeries of Bell’s Life.

On the 30th of November, 1820, after a sporting dinner at Randall’s house in Chancery Lane, there arose a difference of opinion during a discussion of the merits of various pugilistic professors. Spring, Purcell, Randall, Martin, the Birmingham Youth, Holt, etc., being among the parties assembled. Among matches proposed and talked of, was one between Holt and Scroggins, to come off in some six weeks from the first “time of asking.” This delay, however, the time being eleven o’clock at night, and the spirits mounting, did not suit the desperate Scroggy, who delivered his ideas on the subject somewhat in the following form:—

“Why, as to that there matter, it ain’t no match between me and Holt; I can lick him like a babby. I never was so ill with a cold in my life; but I will fight him any time you like, but I’d rather it ’ud be now.”

Holt returned Scroggins thanks for his candour, but, in return, thought Scroggins would have no chance to win with him. Nevertheless, he too was of opinion that the best way would be to decide it instantly.

“I am ready,” said Scroggins; “but the winner shall have the whole of the purse.”

“I am agreeable,” replied Holt.

The usual preparations were made for the contest. Turner and Martin seconded Scroggins, and Purcell and Sampson were for Holt. Spring was the time-keeper. Five to four on Scroggins on one side of the room, and five to four on Holt among the other party.

In this affair Holt, after taking the lead in scientific style, received a heavy fall from Scroggy’s rush in the twenty-fourth round; up to that period Scroggy had all the worst of it. Harry’s constitution, however, could not stand the wear and tear, and, after thirty-three rounds, Sampson declared Holt should fight no more.

472For two men out of condition, nay, both unwell, particularly Scroggins, it was a much better fight than has frequently been seen when boxers have been in training for six weeks. Scroggins had always some tremendous points about him. It was a most gallant battle on both sides; but the blows of Holt were not hard enough to stop the rush of Scroggins. The accident Holt received in the twenty-fourth round lost him the fight; and he also complained of a sprained thumb before he commenced the battle. In a ring, some of the amateurs thought Holt might have had a better chance. The smiles of victory, which had not been familiar to Scroggins in his last six battles, now seemed to give him new life. He was, however, in the most exhausted state; and nothing but a lack of the physique to second his science and courage made Harry the loser of this most determined contest.

We here drop the curtain on the pugilistic career of Harry Holt, whereon, although the sunshine of victory seldom shone, he ever displayed, under the clouds of misfortune and ill-success, the brightest attributes of a British boxer, science, courage, self-possession, and honesty. “Some one must lose,” as a practical philosopher has remarked, and the mischances of war fell often and heavily on poor Harry. Henceforth his career was chequered and various in its character, sometimes basking in the sunshine of Dame Fortune, and at others reposing in the shade of her elder daughter, and tasting the bitters of vicissitude. He became publican, whether a “sinner” or not we will not take upon ourselves to state; but, as far as our experience has gone, the traits of his character were quite as estimable as any of those in whose sphere he moved. His early education enabled him to bring into useful operation the powers of his pen, and upon the retirement of Pierce Egan from the Dispatch, he was engaged by Alderman Harmer as the mentor of Mr. Smith, the new milling editor of that paper, now, like Harry, gone to that bourne from which no pugilist returns. Harry was found an excellent Asmodeus to Smith, and introduced him to all the eccentricities of London life, as well as to the mysteries of the London Ring, and found so apt a pupil that his protegé was soon enabled to go alone, and to obtain for the Dispatch a reputation for its advocacy of the sports of the ring, which it has long since lost, and which lies buried in the tomb of poor Smith. As a second in the ring, with his consummate judgment and “artful dodging,” Harry was only equalled by Tom Belcher and Dick Curtis; and these three men were always considered hosts of themselves in doubtful points, for, by their ingenious devices and careful husbanding the strength of their principals, they have frequently “brought their men through,” when the balance preponderated against them. In the course of his life Harry occasionally dealt in cigars 473and other “Parliament” commodities, and thus did his duty manfully for the support of a large family. He latterly devoted himself entirely to sporting literature, and proved himself a useful assistant to the Era newspaper, in recording milling and pedestrian occurrences, always reporting faithfully and impartially, and displaying a knowledge of his profession, eminently useful in describing the “ins and outs” and “ups and downs” of a fight. His inevitable exposure in this vocation to the change of weather in every season of the year, whether on the land or the water, now sitting for three or four hours up to his fetlocks in snow or mud in a slimy marsh, and then scorched by the rays of a mid-day sun, and again at night breathing the fœtid atmosphere of some fancy “re-union,” gradually operated upon a constitution injured by early exertion, seized his lungs, and threw him into a rapid decline. His last appearance in the discharge of his vocation was at the fight between Heffernan and Scully, in the Marshes of Kent, on Tuesday, April 9, 1844, to and from which he was conveyed with great difficulty to the steamer, and thence home. While committing to paper the result of his observations, he received his last awful summons from “the grim king of terrors,” and handing his pen to his son, left him to give the finishing stroke to his report. He left behind him a widow and six children, one of whom, Alfred, succeeded to his father’s post of Ring reporter, firstly on the Era, and subsequently on a daily journal.^[167] Holt was eminently known among his compeers for his “gift of the gab,” as it is vulgarly termed, hence his cognomen of “Cicero,” the speechmaking at benefits, etc., being entrusted to his care.

Would that he had left behind a goodly number of men in his profession, who, without his talents, were imbued with an equal share of honesty of purpose, integrity of conduct, and correctness in all the relations of life, both public and private; were such the case, the position of British boxers would not be degraded to the low ebb at which it stands at present. Highly respected by the patrons of the science of self-defence, and esteemed by many of the right sort yet remaining, his compeers in the ring, Harry Holt left behind him a name which may be envied by many of his fraternity who less deserve it.

474

WEST COUNTRY DICK, THE NAVIGATOR.—1816‒1820.

A more manly and courageous boxer was not to be found among the records of pugilism than this little hero. In a short period he fought no less than sixteen prize battles in gallant style, and the smiles of victory proved propitious to his exertions in twelve, Curtis, Gipsy Cooper, and Jack Randall ranking among his conquerors; defeat by such men being no dishonour.

Richard West was a native of Bedminster, in Somersetshire, and was born in the year 1794. At the period of his first battle he was in height five feet five inches and a half, and weighed nine stone and half a pound. Dick ranked more as an active boxer than a fine fighter, and was conspicuous for being a slashing hitter; considering his weight, he certainly used his right in a tremendous manner. His courage was of so superior a quality that it often prompted him to fight men much above his own weight. The most prominent of Dick’s battles were the following:—

Dick’s first attempt at prize milling was with a man denominated the Grabbler, in Tothill Fields. It was a desperate fight, and one hour and twenty minutes expired before Dick was declared conqueror.

A man of the name of Reeve was disposed of by Dick in the short space of six minutes, at Coombe Wood. It was a match for seven guineas a-side, Dick putting down his own stake.

A gardener, of good weight, fought with Dick at Moulsey Hurst. This was also a short battle; and, as before, the confidence of Dick again prompted him to back himself. He gained the victory in good style.

Dick next entered the lists with the determined Jack Curtis, whose fatal termination of his fight with Turner we have already noticed in that boxer’s life. Dick was defeated in fifty-eight minutes, his right hand being disabled by an accident.

For a trifling purse, to make up a second fight after Carter had defeated Robinson, the man of colour, in a match against time, at Coombe Warren, on Wednesday, June 26, 1816, Dick entered the ring with Jack Payne, the butcher, but, in the course of only four rounds, the latter was so satisfied that he declared he would fight no more, and left the ring.

Dick was at length matched with Charley Martin for the sum of 20 guineas a-side. This contest took place at Moulsey Hurst on Tuesday, August 22, 1816. It was a spirited battle on both sides, and reciprocal milling occurred 475during forty-seven rounds; but the severity of Dick’s hitting brought him through in fifty minutes.

Martin, not exactly satisfied as to the merits of the above battle, requested a second trial of skill, which being granted, he entered the ring with Dick, confident of recovering his lost laurels, on Thursday, February 13, 1817, at Coombe Warren, for 20 guineas a-side. Richmond and Eales seconded Martin, and Dick had for his attendants Oliver and Clarke. This second encounter was bravely contested for thirty-four rounds; and sharper milling, for the time it lasted, thirty-five minutes, had not been often seen; for the last six rounds Martin had not the least chance, and left the ring much punished. The Grand Duke Nicholas of Russia, the late autocrat of that mighty empire, who witnessed this battle, seemed much interested in the event, and made many remarks upon the courage displayed by both boxers.

Dick was now thought a competent match for the Nonpareil, Jack Randall, who defeated him in thirty-three rounds. See Randall, p. 330.

To make up for a wretched burlesque on scientific pugilism, which took place on Tuesday, December 23, 1817, at Coventry Farm, on the Hale, Middlesex, Dick was suddenly called upon to enter the ring with Street, for a subscription purse of 10 guineas. No delay occurred, and Dick, attended by his seconds, Paddington Jones and Ballard, and Street by Dolly Smith and Lancaster, appeared within the ropes at thirteen minutes to three o’clock, and fought as follows:—

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Dick’s right hand soon got into work, and slightly nobbed his opponent. Street, in returning, hit short. They immediately fought their way into a close, and both went down. (Six to four on Dick.)

2.—Dick, as usual, full of bustle, put in a severe facer that made Street’s head shake again; the latter, with much confidence, stuck close to Dick, and gave him a sharp blow on the shoulder. In closing, both down.

3.—Street, on setting-to, planted a heavy hit under Dick’s ear and got away, laughing and nodding, by way of self-approbation. Some hits were exchanged and both down.

4.—Street made play with his left hand and got away. Hard fighting soon commenced, when Dick, with spirit and judgment, drove his opponent to the ropes, and hit him clean out of the ring. (Great applause. Seven to four against Street.)

5.—Street met his man confidently, but his blows, though often well directed, lost their force from being open-handed; the best of the hitting was on the side of Dick. In closing, both down.

6.—Dick went down from a hit under his left arm; but it appeared more owing to the slippery state of the ground than the force of the blow.

7 and 8.—In the latter round Dick took the lead in good style, hit his opponent quite away from him, and followed him with success, making several blows tell, till both went down.

9.—Street did not turn out quite so easy a customer as Dick had imagined. The nob of the former was rather the worse for the battle; but no claret was to be seen about either. Could Dick have used his left hand with any sort of effect, he might have made greater progress towards conquest. This was a milling round, and both down in the close.

10.—Dick was rather distressed from his exertions in the last round, and seemed rather slow in quitting his second’s knee, which excited much vociferation of “Time, time,” from Lancaster. Paddington Jones was angry at this, and offered to fight the former for his uncalled-for noise. When at 476the scratch some sharp hits were exchanged, and Street went down from the severity of his opponent’s right hand. (Two to one on Dick.)

11.—Street, it was evident, could not protect his head from repeated facers; but he planted a sharp body blow that moved Dick from his station. The ground was in such a wet clayey state that neither of the combatants could stand firm. However, Dick sent Street down in a twinkling. (“Bravo, Dick!” and five to two was offered.)

12 to 15.—In the latter round Street hit his opponent down, and planted so severe a blow on one of Dick’s peepers that made it wink again. Street felt flattered at this event, and clapped his hands at Dick while on the knee of his second.

16 and 17.—Dick slipped down from a slight hit; he was evidently distressed. Oliver handed the eau de vie to his seconds, who instantly administered the restorative cordial.

18 to 20.—In all these rounds Street appeared the fresher, though his opponent had rather the best of the milling. Dick’s eye was puffed up and seemed dark, and Street anxiously endeavoured to shut up the other.

21.—Street came to the scratch laughing and nodding at Dick by way of derision; but the latter gave him such a podger on the jaw that not only spoiled the grin on his countenance, but made him laugh on the wrong side of his mouth. He finished the round by hitting him down.

22.—Dick seemed to have recovered and reduced Street to his pitch; he made his hits tell as fast as he could plant them.

23.—The scale was now turning, Dick having it all his own way. He planted four severe facers without any return, and ultimately sent Street down. (Five to one.)

24 to 27.—In these rounds Street scarcely exchanged a blow before he was in the mud.

28 to 32.—It was all up with Street; he was down every round. Dick very politely inquired how he felt himself?

33.—Street, on leaving the knee of his second, was asked by Dick “To come to his place, and stand up like a man;” but he was again down, as soon as Dick stepped towards him.

34 and last.—On setting-to, Street almost laid himself down. He, however, got on his legs, but seemed to avoid meeting his man, and so the fight ended in thirty-one minutes.

Remarks.—Considering that the above contest was a made up mill on the spur of the moment, it was far above mediocrity, although there was more manhood than science displayed. The combatants, too, it seems, were equally unprepared for the event, Dick having been “navigating” early in the morning, and “padded the hoof,” as it was termed in what Ephemera calls the “faded flash era,” down to the Hale. Street also had pedestrianised it from Woolwich to the same spot, a distance of twenty-two miles, which must have operated as a considerable drawback upon activity. Dick’s mug was rather battered; and had not the frame of Street been of a close texture, the repeated punishment he received would have been much more visible. The latter, though defeated, was not altogether satisfied with the termination of the fight; and it was thought not unlikely, at a future period, it might lead to a more regular meeting. Dick was now not above nine stone and half a pound, and declared himself open to any man under ten stone weight in the kingdom.

Colonel Barton and several amateurs of rank appeared on the ground. Randall, Parish, Scroggins, Oliver, Gibbons, Tom Belcher, etc., were also present.

A match was now proposed to Dick to enter the lists again with Jack, the butcher. Our game little hero accepted the challenge without hesitation, and on Tuesday, February 2, 1818, upwards of eight thousand persons assembled on Old Oak Common, Middlesex, to witness the battle. The fight was for 20 guineas a-side, in a twenty-four feet roped ring. From the size, strength, and weight of the knight of the cleaver (added to his promise of fighting like a man for once in his lifetime), he was backed by the soi-disant knowing ones at six to four; but the steady amateurs who valued character, who admired pluck, and who were well assured that while a chance remained Dick would not quit the field, took the odds again and again as a safe thing. The event justified their judgment. At thirteen minutes past one o’clock, 477Dick, accompanied by his seconds, Randall and Paddington Jones, entered the ring and threw up his hat. Payne soon followed and answered the token of defiance, attended by the veteran Joe Ward and Dick Whale. The good old ceremony of shaking hands was then gone through, and the combat commenced.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Jack set-to rather eagerly, but hit short, when Dick’s right hand made free with his opponent’s nob. In closing, Jack endeavoured to fib West, but both went down.

2.—Jack seemed to feel as if he had still some character left, and endeavoured to convince the amateurs that he could fight. He gave Dick a precious muzzler, and exchanged some sharp hits; but when Dick put in a facer which produced the claret, a slight trait of his old system peeped out, and he went down not in the most gallant style.

3.—This was a good round, and two minutes of downright milling occurred. Jack put in two desperate facers with much dexterity, and likewise some sharp body hits. Dick was not behindhand with his opponent, and exchanged hits in a manly style till he sent Payne down.

4.—Payne hit his adversary till Dick got the turn, when he followed the butcher all over the ring; the latter’s mug was bleeding copiously. Both down.

5.—Sharp work was the order of this round, and reciprocal nobbers occurred. In closing, Dick threw his adversary.

6.—Dick evidently took the lead, although he did not escape severe punishment. Payne went down from a heavy hit he received on his body; he fell on his knees, and his nob bent forward on the ground in a singular manner.

7.—After an exchange of blows Jack curred it down from a facer. (“He’s coming it!” and disapprobation.)

8.—Dick went down from the force of his own blow.

9.—This round raised a blush upon the cheeks of the game pugilists who witnessed the fight. A boxer, at least twenty pounds heavier, and taller, than his antagonist, positively turned his back and ran away from a nine stone man, after receiving a few sharp hits, and in a manner laid himself down. (Loud hissing.)

10.—It was singular to observe how, when the butcher forgot his fears, he fought in manly style. In this round Jack had decidedly the best of the milling: he planted two facers right and left, and sent Dick down from a bodier. The latter, while on his second’s knee, appeared much exhausted, and brandy was applied with success.

11.—Jack again took the lead: he planted two dreadful hits right and left on Dick’s nob that seemed nearly to stupefy him; but Dick, game-cock like, went in with the most determined confidence, changed the scene, and the butcher rolled down from a hit.

12.—After an exchange of hits, Dick sent his opponent down.

13.—Dick slipped down on one knee, but recovered himself, and ultimately got his adversary down.

14 and 15.—Jack was down in both these rounds, but not before Dick had received much mischief.

16.—Dick again slipped; but recovering himself to meet his antagonist, received a desperate blow near the mark that floored him. This was bad judgment on the part of Dick.

17.—This was a singular round: both went down from counter hits.

18 to 20.—One of Dick’s peepers was nearly closed, and although he had not lost a single drop of claret, he had received an unusual degree of punishment. These rounds were rather in favour of Dick.

21.—This was a grand round on the part of the little one. He planted three facers with his right hand without return; but Jack at length got into work, and fought gaily till he went down.

22 and 23.—Jack down in both these rounds; in the latter he received so severe a facer that he crimsoned all over in a twinkling.

24.—The butcher again administered some heavy punishment. In closing, both down, when Jack laughed at his antagonist.

25.—Jack went down from a hit in the throat. (“Well done, Dick!”)

26.—There was nothing like stopping attempted between the combatants; and several of the round lunging blows told desperately. Dick again received some terrible punishment about his nob that made him stagger. Both down.

27.—Dick was now extremely weak, and his nob had been so peppered that he could scarcely tell what he was about; but his natural game prompted him to proceed, and in consequence he floored Jack from a desperate hit on his mouth. (Loud shouting.)

28 to 30.—Although Payne curred it down in all these rounds, it could not be considered exactly safe to Dick. The butcher always hit his opponent. In the last round 478the hats were thrown up, in consequence of Jack’s not liking to leave his second’s knee. (Five to one on Dick.)

31.—The butcher slowly appeared at the scratch, and the terrible long faces of his backers resumed a more cheerful appearance at the chance. He fought this round tolerably well, and, in closing, when Dick attempted to fib him, held his hands till both went down.

32.—On setting-to, Jack fell down. (Hissing.)

33 to 37 and last.—In all these rounds the butcher went down in a currish style, although he generally planted a hit before he fell. He could not have lost it had he possessed anything like the heart of a true English boxer. Thirty-five minutes and ten seconds had elapsed, when victory was decided in favour of Dick. The latter was led out of the ring almost deprived of vision; and Jack leant across the ropes to show, as usual, that he was quite sick of it. It, however, cannot be denied that he took a good share of milling, and was heavily hit about the loins.

Remarks.—Notwithstanding Dick’s well-known bottom, it was physically impossible he could have lasted three rounds more. Nature was completely exhausted by the heavy punishment he had received. Upon Dick s being put into a coach he was for a short period stupefied, which might have been owing to the heavy nobbing hits he had undergone; and, in consequence of not losing a single drop of blood, his head was much swelled. Had Dick been anything but a game cock, he could never have had the pluck to have fought a man twenty-three pounds heavier than himself, and in every respect a more skilful boxer. Upon the whole, it was not a contemptible fight. In this instance it was admitted that the butcher “did the thing that was right,” and was defeated against his will. In a word, he was a boxer without “a heart,” and it was a matter of great astonishment how the amateurs could have suffered him again to make his appearance in the prize ring, after his unblushing effrontery in previously acknowledging his being privy to a cross. His backers, it was said, lost considerable sums in consequence of his defeat.

Dick was matched with David Hudson, for 50 guineas a-side; but he was defeated, to the great surprise and mortification of his friends, in a few minutes. See David Hudson, Appendix, Period VI.

On Friday, September 11, 1818, Dick, for a purse of 20 guineas, fought with Davis, a navigator, belonging to the Chatham Dockyard, in a field near the Chatham Lines. For the first twelve rounds it was tremendous punishment and reciprocal fighting; but in the thirteenth round Davis dislocated his wrist, which compelled him reluctantly to acknowledge Dick as the conqueror.

Abbot, who had defeated Dolly Smith, at the Barge House, in Essex, after a long fight of 138 rounds, occupying two hours and fifty-five minutes, it seems looked forward to greater conquests. At a sporting dinner which took place on Tuesday, March 2, 1819, in the neighbourhood of Westminster, several of the milling coves looked in to see if any business had been cut out for them. Dick and Abbot, it appears, accidentally met each other, and, in consequence of some difference of opinion, Abbot threatened to mill the former. Dick replied with much spirit, it should not be long before he was served out for his insolence. A purse was subscribed by the amateurs, a large shed cleared and lighted up, and the combatants stripped, attended by seconds and umpire, with all the regularity of a Moulsey Hurst contest. Randall and a gentleman amateur took Dick under their especial care; and Abbot was equally well looked after by Richmond and Hopping Ned. Dick was terribly out of condition, much distressed, and totally unfit for fighting; 479and the state of Abbot was a few degrees removed from condition; but, it being election time, some excuse was admitted on account of his “voting for Lushington.” For thirty-five minutes the battle raged with manliness, activity, and hard hitting. The left hand of Dick was seen to greater advantage than usual, while his right dealt out tremendous punishment. Abbot was equally on the alert, the body of Dick serving for a drum. Abbot, it is said, gave in twice. At the expiration of an hour and ten minutes, when “time” was called, he left his second’s knee, but so completely exhausted that he could not put up his hands; the umpire requested Dick not to hit him in that defenceless state, and victory was declared in his favour. Dick cross-buttocked his opponent several times with great adroitness, but did not win without receiving heavily, and from the manliness he displayed, and the weight against him, he received much praise. It was three to one on Abbot in the early part of the fight, and a great deal of betting occurred, the tens and twenties flying about like waste paper. Dick was offered to be backed to fight Abbot in a ring for £50 a-side.

Dick fought a Clerkenweller of the name of Parsing, in a long but narrow room, in the neighbourhood of Smithfield, before a few swell amateurs, for a purse to the winner, and £1 to the loser, on Tuesday evening, June 13, 1820, at ten o’clock at night. Randall and Scroggins seconded Dick, and Purcell and Tisdale were for Parsing. It was all over in eleven rounds, occupying fifteen minutes. No claret was drawn. Parsing would not fight any more, observing, Dick was too much for him in a room, but he would fight Dick in a ring for £10 a-side of his own money. Parsing, though much taller than Dick, had not a shadow of chance. The latter hero challenged Tisdale to fight before he put on his clothes, as the battle just over had not afforded any amusement to the amateurs; but Tisdale refused, stating he should obtain no credit if he won it. “Never mind,” replied Dick, “I’ll risk it.” Tisdale then publicly acknowledged that he did not think himself competent to cope with Dick in a room.

Dick fought a most tremendous battle with Jack Cooper, the Windsor Gipsy, on Epsom Downs, May 16, 1820, but he was defeated in twenty-nine rounds. See Gipsy Cooper, Appendix, Period VI.

A small subscription purse, for a second fight, at Banstead Downs, on Tuesday, July 4, 1820, was contested for between West Country Dick and Parsing. Dick was the favourite six to four. Parsing had been defeated by Dick in a room, as we have just related, but flattered himself, from his length, that he could conquer Dick in a ring. Randall and Paddington Jones seconded the latter, and Purcell and Holt attended upon Parsing. Twenty-nine 480rounds took place, occupying twenty-eight minutes. The latter, it appeared, could not take punishment; and the severe bodiers given to him by Dick made him grin again. Parsing went down almost every round, and finally surrendered.

In consequence of the storm having separated the amateurs rather in a hurry at North Walsham, on Monday, July 17, at the close of Martin and the Birmingham Youth’s battle, the fancy found themselves weather-bound at Norwich, and in lack of amusement, when a novice of the name of Redgreaves offered himself to the notice of a London swell for a turn-up with Dick. It was thought Redgreaves was a yokel; but, upon further scrutiny, it turned out that he was a Clerkenweller, and, like some others of the milling tribe, fancied he could fight a bit, and was determined to chance it. Dick, the game little Dick, always ready to improve his circumstances, did not value giving a few pounds in weight to his opponent; and, after the London manner, this battle took place in an elegant room, by candle-light, only a few being admitted to the exhibition. At eleven o’clock on Tuesday night, July 18, Dick stripped, Randall and Shelton taking him under their especial care. Redgreaves was well attended by Purcell and O’Donnell. Five to four on Dick.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Dick, without hesitation, went to work to ascertain what sort of pluck this new customer possessed; but Redgreaves was not intimidated, and returned the compliment as quickly. The result was that Dick went down.

2.—Redgreaves seemed full of fight, and a hard hitter; exchanged blows with his adversary in a manly manner. Dick put in a tremendous nobbing right-handed blow, but in a struggle was thrown.

3.—Dick’s nob received some sharp pepper in this round; he, nevertheless, got Redgreaves down.

4.—A complete milling round on both sides. Redgreaves had none the worst of it. Both went down.

5.—Redgreaves got Dick under his arm and fibbed him heavily, but the latter extricated himself, turned round, and went down.

6.—Dick missed a heavy blow, and fell.

7.—This was a good round. Redgreaves showed he was a heavy hitter, and nearly stove in Dick’s ribs. The latter gnashed his teeth and went down.

8.—Dick was thrown heavily.

9.—Dick put in a tremendous bodier that gave his opponent some losing notions, but went down.

10.—Redgreaves came to the scratch cruelly distressed. Randall offered a guinea to a crown that he would not fight above another round.

11 and last.—Dick unscrewed the pepper-box, and dealt out the punishment so hard and so fast that Redgreaves went down, and could not come to the scratch. It was over in fifteen minutes. Dick got £9, and Redgreaves £ 2 10s. The ribs of the former were terribly swelled. Redgreaves was not a very easy customer, and the well-breeched yokels pronounced it a manly fight.

Dick, for a small subscription purse, fought Mason (well known at the Fives Court, for his repeated sets-to with Lennox) at Chesterfield Races, on Thursday, July 27, 1820. Mason had not the slightest chance whatever, and Dick was pronounced conqueror in sixteen minutes.

Dick entered the lists with a man of the name of Hellick, a shipwright, 481for a purse of £ 15, at Kit’s Cot House, three miles and a half from Maidstone, on Monday, August 21, 1820. The milling fame of Dick, who had fought nineteen prize battles, five of which occurred within the short space of four months, attracted a numerous assemblage of persons. Hellick was a well-known good man, upwards of a stone heavier than Dick. Bob Purcell and Jackson handled the former; Shelton and Cooper attended upon the latter. Dick was quite out of condition, but he was never out of pluck; and a good battle was the result of their exertions. It occupied twenty-six minutes, and nineteen rounds were spiritedly contested. Dick emptied the pepper-box upon his opponent’s mug in the first fourteen rounds, and made many severe attacks upon his victualling office; but the game of Hellick was not to be reduced, and in the fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth rounds, Dick had it in such severe style that the shipwright, it was thought, would come into harbour victorious; but in the nineteenth and last round, Dick, by a sort of coup de grace effort, gave Hellick a forgetter, added to a sharp cross-buttock; he fell upon his neck, and it was all U P, to the great mortification of the yokels, who had sported their money on the dockyard man.

We have met with no record of the death of this pugilist.

ABY BELASCO—1817‒1824.

During the thirty years preceding 1820, it is but candid to admit that the Jews made a very prominent feature in the pugilistic circles; but from the period that “Old Time” compelled Mendoza to retire from the field of fame, and defeat and death removed Dutch Sam from the prize ring, the glories of the children of Judah became overcast. Indeed, such men as the two first-named were rather a disadvantage even to good ones who might come after them. A century might elapse before two such boxers as Mendoza and Dutch Sam appeared in the prize ring, although for some time the “peoplesh” endeavoured to set up the subject of the present sketch in their place.

Aby Belasco was born on the 9th of April, 1797, and when he first exhibited with the gloves, he gave such promising milling specimens that high hopes were entertained by the Israelites, and their expectations were increased from his conquests, in succession, over Cribb’s coal-heaver, Josh. Hudson, and Payne.

482Belasco was in his day a boxer of superior talent, a master of the science, not wanting for game, not deficient in strength, of an athletic make, a penetrating eye, and in the ring full of life and activity. His fighting weight was ten stone and a half, and in height Abraham was five feet six inches and a half.

Belasco’s first battle of note was with a man denominated “Cribb’s coal-eaver,” in consequence of his being under the patronage of the champion. This contest was for a subscription purse of five guineas, collected for a second fight. The activity and science displayed by Belasco on this occasion attracted the attention of the amateurs, and he was viewed as a pugilist of rising abilities. In the course of thirty minutes the superiority of Belasco was so decisive that the coal-heaver was glad to acknowledge he had had enough. Belasco now obtained the general patronage of the Jews.

Near the Barge House at Woolwich, Belasco entered the lists with the afterwards renowned Josh Hudson. It was a well-fought battle on both sides, and was contested with great spirit and science for one hour and thirty minutes, when the smiles of victory again crowned the efforts of the promising Israelite.

Our hero, it seems, was down at Moulsey Hurst on Thursday, April 3, 1817, to witness the fight between Randall and West Country Dick, and, not to lose sight of the “main chance,” he filled up his time on the ground in disposing of oranges, thus uniting pleasure with profit, when he was unexpectedly called upon to enter the ring with “Jack the butcher” (Payne), for a subscription purse. Belasco, without hesitation, put down his basket of fruit, peeled himself instead of his oranges, and instantly prepared for action.

He was seconded by two of his own people; Jack was attended by Paddington Jones and Dolly Smith.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Jack, full of bustle, went to work, planted three hits, and had the best of the round till they closed, when Belasco got him against the ropes, fibbed Jack severely, and both went down.

2.—The latter did not appear to like the Jew, and held down his head. Belasco went in with great gaiety, again fibbed the Butcher, and dropped him.

3.—This was a spirited round, and Jack showed fight. Some good blows were exchanged, till the fibbing system was introduced by the Jew, when both went down, Belasco undermost.

4.—The Butcher’s nob now showed the handywork of the Jew, the claret was flowing copiously. In this round Belasco appeared to do as he liked with his opponent: he punished him in all directions, and, by way of concluding, like a good workman, floored the Butcher, and jumped over him as he lay on the ground. (Great shouting.)

5.—Jack appeared at the scratch, but he soon ran himself down.

6.—The Jew behaved like a true Christian in this round. He had it all his own way; but when he got the Butcher on the ropes, in a perilous situation, he was too manly to take advantage of it, lifting up his hands and walking away amidst thunders of applause.

7.—Belasco nobbed Jack with the utmost 483ease, and ultimately sent him down. It was rather a sharp round.

8.—In closing, the Jew fibbed his opponent terribly, till both fell over the ropes. (Seven to four on Belasco.)

9.—It was evident the Butcher wished to avoid the fist of his adversary: he held down his head. In struggling, both again out of the ropes.

10.—Jack turned away from his man, but got peppered for so doing, and was ultimately sent down.

11.—The Butcher could not keep his head out of chancery, and was floored. (Great applause.)

12.—Jack seemed quite sick, and curred it down without a blow. (Disapprobation.)

13.—Both down, but Belasco took the lead.

14.—After the exchange of a few blows, Jack was fibbed down, his face covered with claret.

15.—If the Butcher possessed anything like resolution or bottom he might have stood some chance; but his fighting was all momentarily, either desperate or currish. Cool judgment did not work any of his attempts. He, nevertheless, made some good hits; but, in closing, was again fibbed till both went down. (Any odds upon the Jew.)

16 and last.—The Butcher ran at the Jew furiously, but it was too late to turn the scale, and he received such a floorer that he would not again appear at the scratch. The battle continued seventeen minutes and a half. Belasco retired from the contest without a scratch, and proved the conqueror in first-rate style.

In consequence of the friends of Davis, the milkman, paying forfeit to Belasco, he was hastily matched with Reynolds. In this battle he sustained defeat.^[168]

Notwithstanding this reverse of fortune, Aby’s partisans did not desert him, and he was considered an able competitor for the accomplished Randall. He was accordingly matched with the Nonpareil, eight weeks only having elapsed since his heavy fight with Reynolds. It is true Belasco was defeated, but it is equally true that he gained much approbation as a skilful boxer; and the battle between the Jew and Randall, in a scientific point of view, stands equal to anything on the records of pugilism. See Randall, ante, p. 333.

While Belasco was on a sparring tour with Mendoza in Gloucestershire, in the summer of 1818, he fought the Winchcomb champion, on the race-course at Cheltenham, a thirteen stone man, for 20 guineas a-side. Abraham won in the short space of twelve minutes.

In the same year, on the 9th of December, Belasco entered the lists at Coventry with Joe Townsend, who was considered the leading boxer in that place. Townsend fancied that he could beat Belasco off hand, and put down his watch and five guineas to back himself. He was a twelve stone man. 484Aby at that period only weighed ten stone ten pounds. Belasco proved conqueror in twenty-four minutes.

On Aby’s returning to London he was matched with Phil. Sampson for 50 guineas a-side. The battle took place at Potter’s Street, in Essex, twenty-one miles from London, on Tuesday, February 22, 1819. This fight was brought to a wrangle, but the money was ultimately given up to Belasco. See Life of Phil. Sampson, Period VI.

The Jew and the Birmingham Youth were continually quarrelling upon the subject, and a second fight took place between them. See ibid. A third fight, with the gloves, at the Tennis Court (ibid); and a fourth also occurred before doubts about each other’s merits could be decided (ibid).

Belasco left London for Bristol to fight Cabbage for 100 guineas a-side, in October, 1820; but, on his arrival in the above city, the friends of Cabbage would not advance the money. Belasco, however, was well received by the Bristolians, who, to make up for his disappointment, gave him a most excellent benefit.

In the autumn of 1820 Aby was down at Norwich, with most of the London pugilists, to witness the second mill between Ned Painter and Tom Oliver (detailed in this history, in the Life of Painter, vol. ii., pp. 85‒88), when, on the following day, some little misunderstanding occurred between an amateur of Norwich and Belasco, the latter challenging the swell with offering his brother, Izzy Belasco, a sum of money to fight a cross with the Bergh Apton groom; the amateur hereon offered Josh. Hudson £5 if he would give the Jew a thump on the head for his insolence. This, however, passed over; but when the sherry was circulating quickly, at Gurney’s Bowling Green, some chaffing occurred between these old opponents, and Hudson struck Belasco. This was enough, and which was better man was decided instantly upon an elegant Turkey carpet. Spring supported the claims of Josh. Hudson; the Master of the Rolls gave his assistance to the scientific Israelite; and thirty-five rounds were contested in the most spirited manner, occupying upwards of forty minutes. Hudson was terribly punished about the head; but such was his determined courage that, although his shoulder went out two or three times, and was reduced to its proper situation by Spring, yet he insisted upon renewing the battle, and continued to fight till Belasco observed, they were both weak, and that, as he should get nothing, he (Belasco) would not contend any longer, but that he would fight Hudson for £100 in London at any time the latter would appoint. Belasco unquestionably won the fight, as he twice waited upwards of one minute while the shoulder of Hudson was reduced. The Birmingham Youth gave his bets, 485two guineas, as did Spring, one guinea, to Hudson. Belasco received a dreadful hit on his right eye; but this blow, the Jew asserted, was given previous to fighting. Hudson was rather inebriated; and next morning, in company with Scroggins, went to an eminent surgeon, who not only pronounced that his shoulder had been “out of its place,” but advised Hudson to take great care of himself, as he would not be enabled to enter the ring again for at least a twelvemonth. This affair took place on Wednesday, July 19, 1820.

Aby’s next turn was with Phil. Sampson (third battle, December 21, 1820), a glove fight, already noticed in a paragraph above.

Pat Halton was about this time brought out as a wonder. According to report he had beaten all Irish opponents in an unapproachable style. He was in height five feet eleven inches, and in weight eleven stone. His fame, which had gone before him, was challenged by Aby Belasco for £50 a-side, and the event came off at Harpenden Common, near St. Alban’s, on the 8th of April, 1823.

Aby arrived on the ground in a barouche and four, supported by some swells of his tribe; and at one o’clock his seconds, Richmond and Ben Burn, threw up his topper. In a few minutes, Pat Halton, arm-in-arm with his backer, a sporting Irish captain, followed by Randall and Josh. Hudson, repeated the token of defiance. The odds were guineas to pounds on Belasco. Tho colours, yellow for the Jew, and green (à la Randall) for Halton, were tied to the stakes.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On stripping, the lathy appearance of Paddy astonished his backers beyond description: his ribs were bare, his legs and arms were thin, his countenance pale, his lips white, and, in fact, he was as light as a cork. Belasco, on the contrary, was never in more prime trim. Some little squaring at each other occurred, when the Jew gave his opponent a tap on the cheek; Paddy returned without effect. Halton again missed. A long pause. Belasco planted another facer without any return. Halton’s right hand missed the Jew. At length some exchanges took place, and Belasco hit Halton as he was going down.

2.—The Irishman showed first blood; he had napped a clumsy thump on his left ear. After a few exchanges, in a close, the Jew fibbed his opponent; but Halton got the throw, and Belasco was undermost.

3.—The Jews were in raptures, and the judges of milling had made up their minds as to the result. Belasco hit his opponent on the body without any return; a facer ditto. This conduct made Halton angry, and he missed the Jew. Belasco gave another bodier without return; also a nobber Halton missed; in fact, he did not come near enough to hit his opponent. Belasco again fibbed his opponent at the ropes, but Halton got the throw. (Six to four on the Jew.)

4 and 5.—Belasco bodied his opponent several times, and got away with the greatest ease. In the latter round Belasco caught hold of his adversary by the hip. Randall said, “Foul! and if Belasco did so again he would take Halton out of the ring.”

6.—It was evident the Irishman had no chance; he went down from a hit.

7.—Belasco received a severe lunging hit on the side of his head. The leariness of the Jew was peculiarly striking in this round. Belasco gave Halton a body blow, and got away cleverly; repeated this liberty, tried it on a third time with equal success, when Aby burst out into a loud laugh. Halton endeavoured to return, but his hits were all out of distance.

8.—Halton missed numerous hits. A 486short rally took place, and the Irishman’s head was sent out of the ropes; but he got it in the ring again, when his left eye was nearly hit up. A pause. Halton missed his adversary, when the Jew gave him a clean knock-down blow.

9.—This was a sharp round, and Belasco received two or three hits on his body and arms. Some exchanges took place, and as the Jew was endeavouring to get away he received a hit on the chest that floored him, but he jumped on his knees instantly. (A rare shout for Halton.)

10.—The Irishman’s face was clareted, and he had napped pepper: he never had a chance of winning. Some exchanges took place, but to the disadvantage of Halton, although the Jew went down. (Murmurs from Halton’s party; and exclamations, “The Jew went down without a hit!”)

11 and last.—On appearing at the scratch, Halton’s nob was materially altered, from the punishment in the last round; and Belasco made an attempt at finishing his work. Some sharp blows passed, and the Irishman went down. Belasco, in falling, touched the face of his opponent with one of his knees. Randall called out “Foul!” and said he would take his man out of the ring. Halton said to the umpires, “It is foul!” The latter replied they saw nothing unfair, and desired the fight to proceed. Randall, however, took his man out of the ring, regardless of their decision; and when time was called, Belasco appeared at the scratch. Hudson, who had not left his post, and in the bustle had lost sight of Randall and Halton, was looking after them; but the Jew, having no opponent to meet him, was declared by the umpires to be the winner. Considerable confusion ensued, and a comical scene tied up the matter, producing roars of laughter from the spectators in the wagons. Tho roped ring was instantly filled with persons of every description, all eager to learn the event. A Babel row commenced, followed by a general fight, and many blows were given and received. It was the general opinion that Halton could not have fought two more rounds. However all the bets, or nearly so, were paid, and the stakes given up to Belasco upon the stakeholder receiving the undersigned document.

“To the Stakeholder, the President of the D. C.

“Sir,

“We are of opinion, as umpires of the battle between Belasco and Halton, that Belasco won the fight fairly, and is entitled to the stakes.

“J. H.

“J. B. C.

“April 9, 1823.”

Belasco left the ring almost without a mark. The battle had lasted twenty-seven minutes when the interruption took place.

Belasco a fourth time met Sampson, at Crawley Hurst, August 19, 1823, and was once again beaten. See Sampson, Period VI.

Resolved not to close his fistic career in defeat, Belasco, though he had formally retired and become an L. V. in Whitechapel, presented himself, after Dick Curtis and Ayres had finished their battle at Shepperton Grange, May 25, 1824, with the enquiry whether George Weston, who had promised Aby a thrashing, intended to carry out his threat? The insult to Belasco, it appears, had occurred during the fight between Ned Neale and Tom Gaynor. Weston declared his readiness, and £16 were immediately put into a purse by the amateurs. The battle was a burlesque: Aby so punished Weston all over the ring, that he surrendered after three rounds.

From this period Aby figured merely as a second and a sparrer. His later career was disreputable, as a keeper of low gambling houses, night houses, supper rooms, and such like resorts of midnight and morning debauchery, which brought him into repeated conflicts with the law. His life no further concerns the history of the ring.

487

CY. DAVIS, “THE GAY BRISTOL BOY”—1818‒1823.

Cyrus Davis was one of those boxers who shine with a reflected light, borrowed from the renown of the man they have conquered; his defeat of the game and scientific Ned Turner establishing his claim to notice, and also his extensive acquaintance as a tradesman, in after life, first in the vicinity of old Smithfield Market, where for many years he was landlord of the Bear and Ragged Staff, of the Plough, in Giltspur Street, and subsequently an L. V. at the New Cattle Market, Islington.

Cyrus was born in the Broadway, Bristol, November 27, 1795, and was, at fourteen years of age, apprenticed to a butcher. His height was five feet nine inches, his weight a trifle under eleven stone, far exceeded in his later days. His appearance was prepossessing, and his first lessons in the art were received from his townsman, George Nicholls, celebrated as the only conqueror of Cribb. Pierce Egan gives the usual early undated victories to Davis, which we pass to come to his first recorded London display.

Davis was introduced to the cognoscenti of the metropolis by Tom Belcher, and attracted much notice by his activity in sparring and decisive precision of hitting. Cy. was taken down to Rickmansworth by his patron, on Friday, June 10, 1818, to witness the battle between Neat and Oliver (see Neat, Vol. II., Period V., Chapter IV.) That event decided, there was a purse of twenty guineas to be disposed of, five guineas for the loser. Abraham Belasco offered himself, when young Cyrus, stepping into the ring, offered to accommodate the circumcised champion. The members of the P. C. were delighted. Tom Belcher and Tom Cribb volunteered themselves as seconds to the young Bristolian, and the Israelite was picked up by Tom Jones and Cropley. Two to one on Davis.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The style of fighting exhibited by Cy. was something after the manner of Tom Belcher when that pugilist first entered the London ring. Davis went to work rapidly, with one, two. It was a sharp round altogether; but Davis took the lead and sent Belasco down. (Great applause.)

2.—One of Davis’s eyes was a little touched, but he again went sharply to work. The Jew, in closing, endeavoured to fib his opponent, and also threw him.

3.—This was a short round. Davis went down from a slight hit, or rather a slip; he instantly jumped up laughing, ready to renew the attack, but Belasco sat down on his second’s knee.

4.—The liveliness of Davis was the admiration of the ring. He had it all his own way this round, and, with a tremendous right-handed hit, he floored Belasco. (Tumultuous applause.) 5 to 2 on Davis.

5.—Cy. endeavoured to repeat the dose, but without the desired effect. The Jew received some sharp facers, but in return got Davis down.

6.—In this round the fine science displayed 488by Belasco was much praised. He stopped six blows in succession of his opponent: nevertheless Belasco was sent down.

7.—Some sharp work, till Belasco, in closing, fibbed Davis severely till he went down.

8.—The milling talents of Davis in this round were conspicuous: he dealt out much severe punishment to Belasco with his right hand, and with great quickness gave the Jew a back-hander, when he went down like a shot. (Tumultuous applause, and “It’s all your own, Davis.”)

9.—Belasco looked rather queerish on arriving at the scratch, when Davis finished him with a right-handed flooring hit. It was all over in ten minutes. Belasco would not fight any more.

Remarks.—Davis throughout the above battle was as gay as a dancing-master. His appearance and mode of hitting prepossessed the amateurs in his favour. The quickness of Davis was truly astonishing, undressing himself, getting into the ring, and winning the battle only occupied our hero fifteen minutes. Belasco, it was urged by his own “peoplesh,” was not in condition; and therefore the £5 had some charms for him as a losing man. However, he could not have won that day.

Davis, soon after this battle, returned to follow his business at Bristol, but he had made so strong an impression on the amateurs that Cy. was soon brought to town and matched against Ned Turner for 100 guineas a-side. They fought at Wallingham Common, Surrey, on Friday, June 18, 1819. How he was defeated may be seen at p. 385, ante.

Moulsey Hurst, the delight of the fancy for its velvet turf, was, on Tuesday, August 24, 1819, again selected for a British and Irish pugilistic display of manhood. Boshell, recently imported from Paddy’s Land, was known on the Curragh from a spirited turn-up there, but an entire stranger to the London prize ring, except from the good character given of him by Randall. In a trial set-to with the latter it was thought by some of his countrymen that he might establish himself among the light weights; therefore he was backed for 50 guineas a-side. Davis’s recent defeat with Turner had placed him rather in the back-ground; but the good judges viewed it as an easy thing for the “Bristol Boy,” and two to one on Davis was offered on the preceding evening at the sporting houses. The old ring goers and a sprinkling of the Corinthians were present. On the Commander-in-chief^[169] and his party crossing the water, the combatants were ordered to prepare for action; and Boshell, with much confidence, threw his hat into the ring, attended by Tom Jones and Larkins. Davis, waited upon by Harmer and Shelton as his seconds, answered the challenge. The hands were crossed in friendship, and the men set-to.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Boshell looked compact and well, but the remains of a small blister appeared on his lower ribs. Davis was as fine as could be wished, and smiled as if confident of success. The attitude and manner of Boshell soon convinced the amateurs that science was not his forte. Davis tapped him on the arm and got away; ditto and ditto; some little sparring; when Davis let fly, and a sharp facer was the result. Two or three awkward exchanges occurred, and Boshell planted a heavy body hit. They fought into a close, and, after some little struggling, Davis was thrown, and undermost. 489(Seven to four, and two to one was loudly offered on Davis.)

2.—The Bristol Boy soon put in a facer, that not only drew the pink, but seemed like an electric shock on the upper works of poor Paddy. Some awkward blows again passed. The Irishman got the throw. (Three to one upon Davis.)

3.—Davis, with his left hand, put one of Paddy’s eyes into mourning. Boshell, however, made some good stops, but he had not a single point towards finishing a round well. Davis was again undermost. (All betters; and “It will soon be over,” was the cry.)

4.—Boshell showed himself as game a bit of stuff as ever peeled in this round. The hitting was sharp on both sides, but Davis got away, and Boshell, in following him, received one of the Bristol Boy’s lunging hits on the nose, when he instantly fell on his face, the claret flowing rapidly. (“It’s all up now; he can’t fight two more rounds.” Oliver offered five to one on the last event, and twenty to one he lost the battle.)

5.—Boshell came up distressed, but game as a Purcell, and endeavoured to lash out. He was, however, milled all over the ring, and fell at the ropes, rolling over on his face exhausted.

6.—The mug of Paddy was a picture of punishment; both his eyes damaged and his face altogether changed. Fresh milling was added, but he nevertheless threw Davis.

7.—This was a sharp round. Boshell went down exhausted. (“It’s poundable—take him away.”)

8.—The claret was now trickling down the nose of Davis. After some heavy exchanges they broke from a close, and Boshell fought till he fell on his knees, and caught hold of the ropes distressed.

9.—Davis winked to his friends that it was all right, and planted three facers in succession. Boshell, however, showed the fight was not taken out of him, and again threw his opponent a heavy fall. (“Bravo, Boshell, you are a game fellow!”)

10.—The face of the Irishman was piteous. Boshell went down.

11.—In struggling for the throw, Davis slipped on his knees. This was thought unhandsome; but Boshell held up his hands, not to hit him foul. (“Bravo!” from all parts of the ring.)

12.—Boshell endeavoured to make some hits, but went down exhausted.

13.—Boshell was floored like a shot, from a tremendous lunging blow on his nob. (Any odds.)

14.—Boshell, groggy, was hit down, but in falling he caught the ropes.

15.—Boshell came up staggering, and soon went down. Time was called, and it was thought he had given up. Davis’s hat was thrown into the air, and the outer ring broken.

16.—Boshell said he was not done, and another round took place, but he was hit down. Paddy was, however, so game, he declared he would not say “No.” He had no chance, and was taken away. Davis, elated with his success, jumped over the ropes out of the ring, without a scratch. It was over in fifteen minutes and ten seconds.

Remarks.—If any remarks can be made, a few words will suffice. Boshell is a game, a very game man, and his courage was the admiration of the ring; but as a fighter has no pretensions. Indeed he was little more than a plaything in the scientific hands of Davis.

At Spring’s benefit at the Fives Court, on Tuesday, November 2, 1819, our hero made a considerable impression upon the minds of the amateurs, by the display of science in a set-to with the Nonpareil. Upon the appearance of Randall, followed by Cy. Davis, the audience seemed extremely anxious for the set-to. The confidence of the “Bristol Boy” astonished all; he exhibited considerable improvement. In fact, with the gloves, the Nonpareil never met such a successful opponent before. Davis did not get off without a good receipt of Randall’s talents; nevertheless, the former put in two or three dexterous facers and made some fine stops. The fanciers were all alive; the Court rang with applause. It was generally admitted that the advantage was on the side of Davis. Upon pulling off the gloves another round was called for and complied with. Both the combatants were now upon the alert, and it was a fine specimen of skill and courage. A well-contested long rally occurred, and Davis again acquitted himself in such good style as to raise his character in the sporting world.

490Davis felt so much mortified at his defeat by Turner that he was often heard to say that he should never feel satisfied until he had the chance at least of a second trial with his brave opponent. This feeling accounts in some measure for his not showing in the prize ring, or figuring in the “gag” correspondence and boxing challenges then so much in vogue in the “sporting” press. However, somebody made some letters for him about fights with Gipsy Cooper, Phil. Sampson, and Turner, which Pierce Egan prints with the curious foot-note, “This letter was a hoax!” (“Boxiana,” vol iv., p. 166.)

On the second match being made, at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, between Turner and Cy. Davis for £100 a-side, the following remarks appeared in the Weekly Dispatch:—

“Davis is decidedly the favourite five to four, and in a few instances, for small sums, six to four is betted. It is nearly four years since, June 18, 1819, at Wallingham Common, that Davis was defeated by Turner in thirty-two rounds, forty-five minutes. Turner also defeated Martin in forty rounds, one hour and seven minutes, October 26, 1819; but since that period Ned has in turn surrendered to Martin. Davis won with Boshell, August 24, 1819, in sixteen rounds, fifteen minutes and ten seconds. This might be termed no match. The most important point taken into consideration by the sporting men in this battle is the modes of life pursued by the combatants for the last three years. Davis has lived regularly, and added to the good effects of training; he is as fresh as a ‘four year old,’ ‘fine as a star,’ and as confident of victory as if the battle was over. Would we could say so much for ‘poor Ould Ned;’ indeed, a few months since an opinion was entertained by the supporters of pugilism that Turner was more likely to make his exit than to show again in the prize ring. However, Ned laughs at these remarks, and asserts he is quite well.”

The fight took place at Harpenden Common, twenty-five miles from London, and four from St. Alban’s, on Tuesday, February 18, 1823.

On the Monday night previous to the battle, the Castle Tavern, although overflowing with company, was a blank as to betting. This sort of silence on a night previous to a mill occasioned one of the most respectable ring goers, and a sound sporting man for the previous twenty-five years, to observe sarcastically—“It was a square fight between Turner and Davis, which accounted for chaffing instead of betting. Ready made luck,” said he, “is wanting, and therefore a certain Bet of people will not chance a crown without the office ‘to a certainty’ is to be had in private. Nevertheless, I am glad of it,” concluded the wag, “it will bring the prize ring back to the 491good old times (although ‘honesty is a ragged virtue’), when such men as the late Colonel Mellish and Fletcher Reid brought their men into the ring, exclaiming, without fear of anything being attempted on the part of the boxers to do wrong, ‘I’ll bet 600 to 400.’”

The weather on Tuesday morning was rather inauspicious to a long journey, yet it did not prevent the thorough-bred ones from starting for the scene of action. At one o’clock Cy. Davis threw up his castor, followed by Richmond and Harmer as his seconds. Turner, close at his heels, arm-in-arm with the President of the Daffy Club, followed his example, attended by Tom Cribb and Josh. Hudson. Five to four on Davis. Cy., smiling, went up and shook hands with Ned. The colours, blue for Turner and yellow for Davis were tied to the stakes by Cribb and Richmond.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The condition of Cy. was beautiful in the extreme; he was a perfect picture of a man in fine health. Turner, although not up to the above mark, was, nevertheless, well patched up as to the look of the thing. The skin of Davis was transparent, ruddy, and healthful, while Turner’s exhibited a yellowish hue. Both extremely cautious; and the great difficulty of getting at the Old One prevented Cy. from making play. Turner, at length, let fly, and put in a slight hit on the body with his left hand. More dodging. Turner stopped the right of his opponent well; both extremely active on their legs. Turner put in another bodier; some exchanges, but of no consequence. Cy. tried to put in his favourite blow with his right hand, but was again stopped. Cy., somewhat tired, put down his hands for an instant, but Ned took no notice of it. Exchange of blows at the ropes: a struggle for the throw; both down, but Cy. undermost. This round occupied six minutes; and the friends of Turner shouted, and said, “it was all right, the Old One behaves well.”

2.—Turner missed a well-meant left-handed blow at the body. Neither of them eager to go to work, both anticipating danger. The right hand of Cy. told, after a few exchanges, and Turner went down. (A shout for Davis from the Bristolians.)

3.—Although in such fine condition, Davis was piping a little, and Turner kept hitting at the body. Some exchanges took place, but the blows were light on both sides. Owing to the slippery state of the ground, Turner went down from a slight hit.

4.—It had been expected that three rounds would not have passed over without some mischief, nevertheless this was a good round. Cy. smiled with confidence, and made himself up to do severe execution with his right, but Turner, with considerable skill, stopped him. Nothing done yet, and in a struggle both went down.

5.—Whether it was from partiality to the Old One or not, the friends of Turner urged he had none the worst of it; in fact, no severity of punishment had passed on either side. In closing, Turner had the best of the fibbing, and Cy. showed first blood. Davis got the throw cleverly, and Turner was undermost.

6.—The left hand of Davis seemed of no use to him, except, after the manner of the late Gas-light-Man, to hold his opponent. Some good fighting occurred in this round, and the finish of it was to the advantage of Cy., who fell heavily on Turner. (Seven to four.)

7.—Turner placed many of his blows well; but the strength of his hitting, which on former occasions appeared prominent, seemed to have left him. The great forte of Davis was to put in his right hand; and had not Turner stopped it often, the fight would soon have been at an end. Turner again had the best of the fibbing, and Cy. was undermost. (Several of the partizans of Turner began now to flatter themselves that victory was within his reach. Loud shouting, “Turner for ever!”)

8.—If Davis had commenced play, and fought with both hands, another tale must have been told. However, in this round, some severe execution was done. Turner’s left hand drew the claret from Cy.’s nose and mouth, and he appeared for the instant a little abroad; he also received a heavy body blow, but recovered and sent down Turner with a right-handed hit on the head. (“It’s all over,” from the cutting tribe of Newgate-market. “You have won it, Davis.” Two to one.)

9.—The friends of Turner began to quake a little, recollecting the almost finishing blow 492Ned received in his last round. This hit took a little of the fight out of Turner, and he came up bleeding and weak to the scratch, but his game did wonders for him. Davis now went to work a little. Turner, game as a pebble, returned hit for hit, till he fell exhausted. While on his second’s knee, Randall, Holt, Curtis, &c., gave the Old One advice gratis, how he should act, so anxious did they feel for his success.

10.—Ned came to the scratch like a high-couraged man, determined to strain every nerve for victory, although the chance was against him. He, however, had no idea of losing at this stage of the battle. Yet the patch-work began to peep, and the effects of premature age could not be hid. Turner received a bodier that sent him down. (The backers of Davis now booked it as safe, and inspired their hero with shouts of approbation.)

11.—Davis commenced fighting, and planted a severe hit with his right hand on the body of his opponent. Turner, however, stood up and exchanged hit for hit, till a pause was necessary on both sides. Cy. was weak in turn, and kept sparring for wind, yet smiling at his opponent. Turner’s left ear was bleeding from a severe hit, and in following Cyrus he slipped, or went down from a slight hit. The truth could no longer be hid; Turner was going every round; he fought like a man; but the stamina was wanting.

12.—On the part of Turner this was an excellent fighting round. In spite of his distress, his stops were so excellent as to claim applause from all parts of the ring. Cy. also exhibited fine science. Hit for hit, but the hardest blows were in favour of Davis, and Ned kept up the game till he fell, overcome with fatigue.

13.—Turner was equal to his adversary in milling; but there was no comparison between the effect of their blows. They followed each other over the ring, exchanging hits in the most manly style, till an accession of wind was necessary on both sides. At the ropes a struggle took place, and in going down, Turner uppermost. (“Well done both,” from all parties.)

14.—Cy. made a blow with his right hand at the body, but it fell rather low. “Come,” says Josh., “fight fair; recollect you are to hit above the waistband.” A good round, but Turner down exhausted. (Ten to two. Several of the fighting men came to the ropes, and in their anxiety for his winning, gave Ned hints what to do.)

15.—Cy. had decidedly the best of the hitting in this round; he also threw Turner and fell on him heavily. This fall shook poor Ned, and he was placed on the knee of his second with difficulty. In fact, it won the battle. (Any odds.)

16.—Tom Belcher observed to Davis—“Why not use both of your hands?” Here Hudson said that Belcher had no business to interfere, it was unfair. “It was not my intention to have said a single word,” replied Tom, “if I had not seen so many fighting men breaking in the ring, and, like Trueman’s cocks, all on one side. I have not one farthing on the battle; all I want is fair play.” Cy. took Belcher’s hint, but Turner opposed him gamely till down.

17.—The Old One, good to the last, exchanged blow for blow till he was hit down.

18.—On coming to the scratch, Cy. immediately went to work with his right hand, met Turner in the body, and sent him down in a twinkling. The President of the Daffies (under whose direction Turner was brought into the ring) humanely stepped forward, and said, “he should not fight any more.” He (the President) would not stand by and see one of the bravest men of the ring wantonly cut up, when he had no chance. It was over in thirty-five minutes. Davis shook hands with Turner, gave a jump, huzzaed for joy, and left the ring.

Remarks.—However ill-natured it may appear, the truth is that Turner has no one to blame but himself,—he was in no condition to fight. A boxer, like a general, if he wishes to prove successful, ought always to be prepared for his enemy. Turner admits, with great candour, that he could not have fought another round. He was not defeated by the blows he received, but he attributes his defeat to fatigue and exhaustion, Nature having refused to second his mind. It was but the shadow of that Ned Turner who defeated the terror of the ring, Scroggins, twice; who fought with Randall for two hours and twenty-two minutes; and obtained a victory over the Master of the Rolls. It was, nevertheless, a brave, good fight on both sides; and it is but doing common justice to Davis, to state that his conduct was manly and interesting to the spectator. Cy. also fought under great disadvantage and pain. After the seventh round, his right hand went, and was much swelled. Davis possesses in his person the finest requisites for a fighting man. Mr. Jackson not being present, we are sorry to say not a shilling was subscribed for Turner. Davis was not hurt.

The above victory proved rather a dear triumph to Davis: he was disabled from appearing again in the prize ring. The fore-finger of his right hand met with so serious an injury, from the knuckle coming in contact with Turner’s teeth, that, after baffling the most skilful surgeons for a considerable time, 493Davis was ultimately compelled to submit to an operation which deprived him of his index finger. With this battle his fistic career closed. Not so his public life. Cy. was for many years a publican, but no more of a sinner than his neighbours. He died on the 8th of March, 1846, aged 51, at the house of his son, the White Bear, Kennington Common (now Kennington Park), of disease of the heart, and lies buried in the churchyard of St. Mark in that parish.

PEACE INGLIS, “THE PHENOMENON”—1822‒1824.

Peace Inglis, known among his companions as “the Mattress Maker,” was a smart young fellow of five feet eight inches, weighing ten stone four pounds. His first appearance in the ring was with Hamilton, the waterman, for 20 guineas, at Moulsey, on the 22nd of October, 1822. On this occasion, Josh. Hudson, who had taken Hamilton, a “below-bridge man,” under his wing, seconded his protegé, Paddington Jones looking after Inglis. It was a brave battle on both sides for forty-two minutes, when Inglis was hailed as conqueror.

The young aspirant’s first essay had so much surpassed the expectations of his backers that he was matched against Bill Davis (Deaf Davis), a well-known good man, and the battle came off at Harpenden Common, near St. Alban’s, February 18, 1823, in the same ring in which Cy. Davis (see ante) had defeated Ned Turner. On this occasion, Josh., dissatisfied with the defeat of Hamilton, seconded Davis, having with him Jack Scroggins and the east end division. Inglis was attended on by Jem Ward (then rising into fame, having beaten Ned Baldwin a fortnight previous) and a friend named Rogers. The watch was held by an amateur.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The Deaf ’un had scarcely put himself into attitude, when in he went like a hammer-man at an anvil, gave his opponent a smash in the middle of the head, and floored him like a shot. (Six to four on Davis. “Where’s your clever fighter?”)

2.—The “feather-bed” hero proved himself to have no soft place about him. He stood up manfully, but received three facers in succession, was nobbed over the ring, and fell covered with claret. (Two to one on Davis.)

3.—Inglis came gamely up, when Davis once more punished him, and he turned his back on his opponent, set off running, and was only stopped by the ropes. Here Davis caught his adversary, and once more levelled him. (A guinea to a shilling was offered, but no takers; and “Take him away,” from all parts of the ring; “he will be killed.”)

4.—Contrary to all expectation, the feather-bed maker was not so “soft” as he appeared to be; he met Davis like a trump, hit out straight with both hands, and, after a desperate 494rally, Davis was hit down almost senseless.

5.—Inglis had now got the turn. He put a new face on Davis, milled him from one side of the ring to the other, and levelled the deaf one with his native dust.

6.—Davis, relying on strength, was determined not to be “told out.” He again took the lead, and nobbed the feather-bed hero, when Inglis, by a flush hit, sent him down. It was not quite a finisher, but it found out the condition of Davis. (Inglis was now the favourite.)

7.—This round was “portrait-painting” with a vengeance. A rally took place, in which Davis received a severe cut over the left eye, and was floored again. (Any odds. “Feathers for a trifle.”)

8 and last.—Such fighting as was seen in the above seven rounds, and hitting in the right places, must always produce short fights. Davis exerted himself in returning hit for hit, till another floorer put an end to the battle. On time being called, Davis observed to his second, “that he could not stand.” It was all over in twelve minutes.

Remarks.—Such a cutting-up had not been witnessed for a long time. In the exultation of the moment the friends of Inglis challenged Dick Curtis. Inglis was about ten stone. Dick replied he would not refuse the challenge. Davis was carried out of the ring. He was too stale for a young opponent.

Inglis, from his brave conduct in the fight with Davis, was next matched against George Curtis, the brother of the Pet, for £50 a-side.

Moulsey Hurst, on Tuesday, August 12, 1823, was again the scene of attraction. The umpires and referee were chosen, and, at one o’clock, George Curtis threw his hat into the ring, attended by Josh. Hudson and Harry Holt. Inglis, followed by Paddington Jones and Neale, also threw up his beaver. He was the favourite at five to four.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Curtis exhibited much activity on his pins, and, on peeling, displayed a more muscular frame than had been anticipated. His face was pale, his nob looked like a milling one, and altogether had a great resemblance to that of the Pet. Inglis was as well as he could be—a wiry strong young man, the taller of the two, and appeared to stand over his opponent. The attitudes of the men on setting-to were interesting. Inglis was in no hurry to proceed to blows; and Curtis, as a novice, deliberated before he went to work. George made an attempt with his left hand, but it told slightly. This movement led to an exchange of hits, yet nothing was the matter. A long pause. Curtis retreated from some heavy blows; Inglis, however, planted a severe nobber. “I’ll bet £100 to a tizzy,” said Paddington Jones, “it’s as right as the day; we shall win the fight.” “Walker! hookey!” replied Josh. The left hand of George told smartly on Inglis’s body; and, after some cut-and-come-again work at the ropes, in struggling for the throw, both went down, Curtis undermost. (Six and seven to four on Inglis.)

2.—The left eve of Curtis was winking. Inglis, on the alert, planted a hit; an exchange of blows. Curtis again felt for his adversary’s body. Inglis missed a well-meant blow for his opponent’s nob; he, however, tried it again, but George stopped him with great skill. (“Bravo, Georgy!” from his pals.) A pause. After some little time, both combatants made themselves up to do mischief, and, on getting within each other’s reach, they let fly, which produced the claret. (“First blood,” exclaimed Josh. and Jones at the same instant. “Upon my honour, it appeared first on your side,” said Josh., “and I hope you will not dispute the honour of the John Bull fighter, my Tommy!” It was rather a doubtful point at the moment.) Curtis went down weak.

3.—Inglis, to the astonishment of the spectators, did not fight first, and a long pause ensued. Curtis commenced milling on the retreat, and the feather-bed hero napped three nasty ones on his index. Another stand-still for a minute, looking at each other. Inglis stopped well, when the combatants got into a sharp rally at the ropes. In struggling for the throw, Inglis got his opponent upon the ropes; and, in this situation, Curtis received pepper until he went down exhausted. (“It’s all over. I’ll bet ten to one that Curtis can’t fight two more rounds,” was repeated by the betting men round the ring.)

4.—The left eye of George was nearly closed; but when time was called he showed himself at the scratch. Although the advantage was now decidedly in Inglis’s favour 495he did not commence fighting; and Curtis, recovering his wind, made play with his left hand, and had none the worst of it. This was altogether a milling round. Curtis threw his opponent. (Thunders of applause from the Bermondsey boys.)

5.—It was no secret to the spectators that Curtis at this period of the battle was the weaker man; but his coolness was the admiration of all present. Some good hitting and stopping were displayed on both sides. Curtis planted a rum one on the feather-bed’s throat that made him gasp for breath. Inglis also received three or four nobbers that stopped his exertions; but at the ropes he had the best of it, and punished Curtis down.

6.—This round was a fine display of manhood; punishment on both sides all over the ring. Inglis got Curtis on the ropes, and was pelting him with divers blows in sundry places, when, by an extraordinary effort, Curtis broke away, put in a facer, and drove his opponent to the opposite side of the ring, where he held Inglis for a short time at the ropes, and then sent him down. (The applause for Curtis was loud.)

7.—Short, but full of mischief. Curtis received a heavy fall on his back, which shook him sadly and added to his exhausted state.

8.—Another short round, but rather dangerous to Inglis. In struggling for the throw, Curtis went down. “Foul! foul!” The ring was broken: it was asserted Inglis had caught hold of his opponent’s thigh in a way not allowed by the laws of boxing.

9.—The right hand of Curtis was open; he, nevertheless, had decidedly the best of the hitting in this round till Inglis bored him down out of the ropes.

10.—The game which had been so conspicuously displayed by George induced many of his backers to stick to him. Inglis, with all his strength, did not take the lead of Curtis as was expected. In fact, George, in most instances, had the best of the milling; but, in finishing the round, Inglis generally had the advantage. (Two to one.)

11.—This round was truly an out-and-out one on both sides. Curtis vindicated the pedigree of his race for “bottom, bone, blood.” It would be detracting from Inglis to withhold from him that he showed himself as high-couraged and game as his brave adversary. It was hit for hit all over the ring—backwards and forwards, in and out of the corners, and round about, till the combatants were at a stand-still. To it again like true Britons, till nature could no longer assist their minds. At the ropes they were both so exhausted as to take hold of each other and push each other down, Inglis uppermost. (Applause. “Here’s a round for you!” “Why, they are both East-nders,” said Josh., “and that accounts for it. We can get nothing among the coves of the West, so we are obliged to fight amongst our own breed.”)

12.—Curtis threw his opponent.

13.—Inglis received several blows on his nob, and at times was much distressed. If he had not been a very game man he would have cut it. Curtis endeavoured to keep the lead, and fought till he fell exhausted. “Take him away, Josh.; he can’t win it,” said a patron of the P. R.; “it is a pity to witness so game a man cut to pieces.” Curtis, while sitting on the knee of his second, overheard the above remark, and he answered, “I will not be taken away; I am sure I shall not lose it; I will not lose it.”

14.—Curtis was so determined that to say “No” never entered his mind. After an exchange of blows Curtis received a severe fall. “Take him away,” from all parts of the ring. (Any odds upon Inglis.) George said he would not give it in.

15 and last.—Curtis planted a blow on his opponent’s throat; but it was too feeble to do much mischief. In a short rally Curtis was hit down, when “the Pet”^[170] threw up his hat, and declared George should not fight any more. It was over in fifty-five minutes. Inglis went up to Curtis, and shook hands with him.

Remarks.—If Curtis had been as fresh as his opponent a different tale might have been told. He fought like a brave man; and, although he could not achieve victory, he obtained a high character in the pugilistic circles. George was overmatched; indeed, any boxer who wishes to have a turn with Inglis, will find plenty of work cut out for him before the battle is at an end. Curtis was taken out of the ring by his brother, and exhibited severe marks of punishment. The nob of Inglis did not show much beating; but he received many hard blows during the fight. Four pounds were collected on the ground for Curtis.

Peace Inglis now stood so high in the estimation of his friends, that he challenged Harry Holt for £100 a-side; but a match being made on the spur of the moment with the brave Ned Turner, for £100 a-side, the fight with Holt went off. After a considerable time allowed for the training of Turner, 496the above match was decided at Colnbrook, seventeen miles and a half from London, on Tuesday, April 26, 1824.

The road was lively, but not thronged with company as heretofore; in fact, it was more select than usual. When “Time” was called, Turner walked coolly into the ring, followed by Josh. Hudson and Paddington Jones. He was well received by the crowd, like an old performer returning to play a favourite part. Some little delay occurred, when the John Bull boxer roared out, “Come, you Inglis! Where are you? Don’t you like it? We are ready.” Inglis appeared immediately, waited upon by Maurice Delay and Dan M’Kenzie, and threw his hat into the ring. The colours, light blue for Inglis and dark blue for Turner, were tied to the stakes. Everything being adjusted according to custom, the men stood up for

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Turner looked better than was expected; his face was tanned with the sun, and his legs appeared firm and round. His eye was bright, his countenance serene and placid, and the invigorating breezes of the Welsh mountains, where he had been training, had imparted vigour to his limbs. The heart, too, that just and indispensable attribute of a boxer, was sound, and Ned declared himself confident of victory. His opponent must not be passed slightly over. He is one of the bravest of the brave men belonging to the prize ring. The contrast between the combatants was striking. The youthful Inglis was a model; fine as a star, strong as a lion, game as a pebble, and confident as a Randall. The odds were decidedly in favour of Inglis, £20 to £30. Turner and Inglis are in attitude, and on the look out for the first blow. The superiority as to knowledge of fighting was conspicuous on the part of Ned, who let fly his left teazer, which told heavily on Inglis’s bread-basket. One or two stops occurred, when the left hand of Ned operated so sharply on the throat of the young one that he went down like a shot. (An artillery report of applause for Turner.)

2.—The mark of Turner’s fist on the throat of his opponent was visible to every spectator. Inglis tried to do something, but the Old One was too clever to be caught napping. Turner made both his right and left hand tell on Inglis’s nob. An exchange of blows to the advantage of Ned. The young one had two more “nasty hits” on the mouth, as Josh. termed them, at the same time exclaiming, “First blood! My eye, what a hobble you have got into, my covey.” Turner again planted two left-handed blows, and immediately afterwards put in a severe one, two. Inglis was now bleeding from his mouth. Turner made another hit. “Talk of Old Ones,” said Josh.; “is there anything like the good Old Ones?” An exchange of blows, but Inglis did no execution. The latter received another terrible hit on his mouth. Inglis did not know what to do with his adversary. A pause. “I’ll bet fifty to twenty,” said Randall. Turner’s left hand repeated the dose. In closing, Turner had decidedly the best of it. Inglis’s face bleeding in all parts of it. Both down, but the Old One undermost.

3.—Short. Turner’s left hand told, but he slipped down in endeavouring to make a hit.

4.—Inglis was piping a little, but not at all dismayed. He was a complete receiver-general; he would have returned many favours, but Turner did not accept them. This was a good round, yet Turner went down weak.

5 to 10.—The fighting was all on the side of Turner; the taking on the part of Inglis. In all these rounds the superiority of the Old One was evident.

11.—“Come, Scroggins’s ruin,” said Josh., “we are at home; we have won it.” Turner nobbed his opponent with the utmost ease; in fact, he had everything his own way again in this round, but went down rather weak.

12.—Turner again made play right and left with great success; he also stopped Inglis in the most beautiful style of the art. The game of Inglis was, however, so good that he presented himself in the most resolute way, and in a sharp exchange of blows Turner went down. Inglis was nearly falling, but caught by his second. (“Bravo! well done both sides!”)

13.—Turner did as he pleased in regard to hitting; nevertheless, Inglis was not to be got rid of; his youth and stamina were his safeguards. Turner down. (The Bermondsey boys did not know how to express their approbation of Turner’s conduct in terms strong enough.)

49714.—Inglis could not plant any effective hits; if his blows could have reached their destination, a change might have soon been witnessed in the fight. Turner’s one, two, was well directed, and he also put in a heavy body blow. The Old One showed weakness and went down.

15.—“If Ned does not tire,” said an old ring-goer, “he must win the battle; but he has too much work to perform.” Inglis could not keep the Old One’s hands out of his face, and appeared rather distressed. Turner down, getting weak.

16.—The superior science displayed by Ned was the admiration of all the spectators. It is true Inglis now and then planted a blow, but it was not of sufficient consequence to reduce the activity of Turner. In closing, Turner got the throw. (A great shout from the Bermondsey lads.)

17.—“A fine old cock this Ned is,” said Josh.; “this is the weather for the old cocks to tip it them.” Inglis was advised to bore in upon Turner, as he was getting weak; but the young one lost ground by this attempt. He was hit away three successive times on the nob; in fact, he stood still for an instant quite confused, but, with game never excelled, he returned to fight till Turner went down.

18.—Inglis rushed in, and bored Ned down.

19.—Inglis repeated this conduct, but Turner stopped the feather-bed hero, by hitting up as he was rushing in. Turner down.

20.—This was a sharp round, but highly important to Turner. Inglis was floored by a tremendous left handed hit on the side of his head. (It is impossible to describe the applause which followed.)

21.—Inglis came to the scratch piping. Turner nobbed his opponent with success, but the strength of the Old One was going. Turner down.

22.—Turner met Inglis in the middle of the head, punished him in all directions, and had he not missed a well-aimed blow, in all probability the fight would have been at an end. Turner went down from exertion.

23.—Nothing. A struggle, and both down without a blow.

24.—Inglis was bleeding copiously; nevertheless, he bored in and received several jobbers, till both down.

25.—Turner planted four successive blows on Inglis’s face; in fact, the Old One had too much work to do. Turner down.

26.—This was a tremendous round on both sides. Inglis, although hit to death nearly, would not be shook off, but kept fighting like a hero till he was thrown. (“What a round! Here’s a fight! Why it is worth going to see, if it had been five hundred miles from London!”)

27.—It appeared to the feather-bed hero that he had no chance to win without boring his opponent, and he rushed in till both went down, Inglis undermost.

28.—This was a tremendous fighting round, and Inglis was hit away three or four times from his opponent. In going down, Inglis fell over Turner.

29.—At the ropes Turner was as good as Inglis, till both down.

30.—Inglis appeared extremely bad, and several of the judges thought Turner must now win. The feather-bed maker was jobbed about his already damaged head, and he slipped down quite weak.

31.—Both down. In the act of giving, the blow alighted on Inglis’s body after he was down. “Foul! foul!” “Fair! fair!” It most certainly was not an intentional foul hit on the part of Turner, and the referee pronounced it so.