CHAPTER VII.

DAN DONNELLY, CHAMPION OF IRELAND.

“Our worthy Regent was so delighted With the great valour he did evince, That Dan was cited, aye, and invited To come be-knighted by his own Prince.”

This renowned “knight of the knuckle,” whose fistic exploits and capabilities, though indisputable, are rather matter of oral tradition than of written record (like the glorious deeds of Charlemagne, Roland, the British Arthur, or his own countryman, Brian Boroihme), first saw the light in Townshend Street, Dublin, in March, 1788. He was a carpenter by trade, and, although undoubtedly possessed of milling requisites of the first order, by no means thirsted for fame in the ring, until circumstances drew forth his talents and made him, for a brief period, “the observed of all observers” in the boxing world. His first recorded appearance in the roped arena was with Tom Hall (known as Isle of Wight Hall), who was then on a sparring tour in Ireland. The battle was for a subscription purse of 100 guineas, and took place on the Curragh of Kildare, on the 14th of September, 1814. Hall, who had beaten George Cribb, and other men, stood high in the estimation of his friends, seeing that Dan was looked upon as a mere novice, or rough, by the knowing ones.

The concourse of persons that flocked to witness this combat was greater than was remembered upon any similar occasion. It seemed as if Dublin had emptied itself, not less than 20,000 spectators are stated to have been present. The vehicles on the road were beyond calculation, from the barouche, jaunting cars, and jingles, down to the most humble description, and the footpaths were covered with pedestrians. Donnelly first entered the ring, and was greeted with thunders of applause. Hall was also well received. The battle did not answer the expectations previously formed; in fact Hall was overmatched considerably in length, and therefore compelled to act on the defensive. It was far from a stand-up fight. Donnelly received no injury, except one trifling cut on his lip, which drew first blood, and he slipped down once. His superiority of strength was evident, and he was throughout the first in leading off. Hall did not acknowledge defeat, and retired from the ring by order of the umpires after the fifteenth round, exclaiming “Foul,” declaring he was hit three times when down. Little betting occurred during the fight, but previously it was sixty to forty upon Hall, and on the ground twenty-five to twenty. Bonfires were made in several of the streets of Dublin by the jubilant countrymen of Donnelly, who was under the training of Captain Kelly. He was also seconded by that gentleman and Captain Barclay, brother to the celebrated pedestrian. Hall was attended by Painter and Carter. During the fight Donnelly kept his temper, closed every round, and put in some heavy blows. Hall was well known as a game man; but it was urged by the partisans of the Irish champion that Hall fell three times without a blow, and Donnelly, in his eagerness to catch him, before he could execute this manœuvre, hit Hall desperately on his ear while sitting on the ground. The most independent and candid opinion upon the subject, from the best judges of pugilism who witnessed the battle, appears to be that both combatants lost it.[22]

George Cooper, who was teaching the art of self-defence in Ireland with much approbation, and whose fame as a boxer in England was well known to the Irish amateurs, was selected as a competitor for Donnelly. They fought for a purse of £60.

On Monday, the 13th of December, 1815, they met on the Curragh of Kildare, at a few minutes after ten o’clock in the morning. At an early hour thousands of persons left Dublin to witness the fight, and the road to the scene of action was crowded with vehicles of every description. Donnelly, followed by Coady, received loud greetings upon making his appearance; Cooper also, on entering the ring, was loudly cheered by the spectators. The combatants shook hands, and immediately began to prepare for action. Coady seconded Donnelly; Ned Painter attended upon Cooper.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The boys of the sod were all upon the alert in favour of their countryman: Donnelly must win, and nothing else, was the general cry. Every eye was fixed as the men set-to. Some little time elapsed in sparring, when Donnelly planted a sharp blow on the neck of Cooper; the latter returned in a neat manner on the body. Desperate milling then took place, when the round was finished by Donnelly, who floored his antagonist in first rate style. It would be impossible to describe the shout that accompanied this feat; it was not unlike a discharge of artillery, and the faces of the Paddies beamed with exultation.

2.—Considerable science was displayed before a hit was made, when Donnelly put in a sharp facer. He also drew blood from one of Cooper’s ears, and his strength prevailed to the extent of driving Cooper to the ropes, where he went down.

3.—Had it not been on the Curragh of Kildare, it was presumed that the fine fighting of Cooper would have told with better effect. He evidently laboured under fear, from the prejudice of the numerous spectators in favour of his opponent. Donnelly exhibited great improvement, and completely took the lead this round. After some tremendous hitting Cooper went down. (Another uproarious burst of applause.)

4.—This was altogether a good round. Cooper convinced Donnelly that he was a troublesome customer, and, in spite of his overwhelming strength, he could not protect himself from punishment. In closing, both down, Cooper undermost. (Donnelly was now decidedly the favourite, and six to four was the general betting.)

5.—The gaiety of Donnelly was hastily stopped, after an exchange of a few blows. Cooper, with much adroitness, floored him in a scientific style, but the latter instantly got upon his legs without any help. (The odds changed, and even betting was the truth.)

6.—Cooper’s mode of fighting extorted the admiration of the Hibernian amateurs, from the easy and natural manner he contended with his big opponent. Donnelly was kept to his work, and had no little difficulty in getting Cooper off his legs.

7.—In this round Donnelly was seen to much advantage, and he resolutely went in as if to beat his opponent off-hand. He drove Cooper to all parts of the ring till they closed, when the strength of Donnelly almost proved decisive. Cooper received one of the most dreadful cross-buttocks ever witnessed, and by way of rendering it conclusive, Donnelly fell on Cooper with all his weight.

8.—From the severity of the last fall, Cooper appeared much distressed on setting-to. Donnelly, with some judgment, turned the weakness of his opponent to good account; and, after having the best of his adversary, Dan put in so tremendous a left-hander that Cooper was hit off his legs. (The loud cheering from all parts of the ring beggared description, and, in the pride of the moment, a guinea to a tenpenny-bit was offered on Dan.)

9.—Cooper commenced this round in the most gallant style, and the milling was truly desperate on both sides. In making a hit, Donnelly over-reached himself and slipped down.

10.—The strength of Donnelly was too great for Cooper, notwithstanding the latter fought him upon equal terms of confidence. Cooper was, however, again floored. (High odds, but no takers.)

11 and last.—It was evident Cooper could not win; nevertheless, this round was fought with as much resolution and science as if the battle had just commenced. Donnelly at length put in two tremendous blows that put an end to the contest, particularly one on the mouth, which knocked Cooper off his feet. On victory being declared in favour of Donnelly, the applause lasted more than a minute. The battle occupied about twenty-two minutes. Donnelly appeared quite elate with victory, and shook hands with Cooper and his friends.

REMARKS.—Dan displayed improvement both in science and in temper, which, added to superior strength, enabled him to beat down the guard of Cooper with ease and effect. He was also in better condition than when he fought Hall. It was urged that Cooper was half beaten before he entered the ring, from the prejudices which existed against him. The sum originally offered to the combatants was a purse of £120, and the loser to have £20; but, on the morning of fighting, after Cooper had been kept waiting in a chaise on the ground for upwards of an hour, he was told that the funds would not admit of more than £60 being given to the winner, and nothing to the loser. Upon this statement, Cooper declared he would not fight; but the reply was, “You are on the ground, man, and must fight. The multitude must not be disappointed.” Under these disadvantages Cooper met his adversary, in the bold attempt to wrest the laurel from the brow of the champion, and that, too, upon his native soil. It is not meant to be asserted that Cooper could have won the battle. An impartial opinion has been given by his own countrymen to the contrary, they admitting that Cooper, with all his superior boxing skill, could not compete with Dan, who had long ranked A1 in the sparring and boxing circles of the Irish metropolis.

It was for some time a generally expressed opinion that the recognised Irish champion would not cross the channel and show himself in this country. However, in February, 1819, it was whispered that “The ‘big’ hero, the pride of Hibernia, known as the Irish Champion, had slipped across the Water, and shown himself in England.”

Dan left full of spirits—the Pigeon-House soon lost sight of—Dublin Bay and its surrounding beauties no longer visible—the Hill o’ Howth (Paddy’s landmark) nearly extinct—and behold our hero “half seas over” towards Liverpool, before he had time to reflect upon the hasty step he had taken. However, there was now no retreating: a few “more glasses” made everything pleasant, reflection no longer intruded, and, after some forty winks, the light-house of the Mersey broke upon Dan’s ogles, and the quay of Liverpool gave him a safe deliverance from the briny deep. It was at this sea-port that Carter crossed his path, picked him up as a brother performer, which gave birth to his adventures in England; for it seems Dan’s original intention was not to visit the metropolis, but, as soon as his pecuniary affairs were settled, to return to Dublin.

Dan’s fame had gone before him: there was not an out-and-outer upon the Coal Quay in Dublin (and the mere appearance of some of these rough heroes is enough to appal Old Nick), who had not repented of his temerity in attacking Donnelly. It was also asserted that he had floored with ease every opponent in Ireland.

Carter, who was sufficiently well acquainted with the stage to know the advantages of a good bill, issued the following placard, on the 19th of February, 1819, at Manchester:—“Donnelly, the Champion of Ireland, and Carter, the Champion of England (?), will exhibit together in various combats the Art of Self-defence, at the Emporium Rooms.” This had the desired effect: an overflowing audience was the result; and at Liverpool they met with great encouragement. Soon afterwards the “brother champions” took the road to the metropolis, and bets were offered that Carter fought twice during the summer and won both the events. Several wagers were also made in London respecting the identity of Donnelly; some of the best judges asserting that the new-come personage was not that Donnelly who fought with George Cooper. Donnelly, on his arrival in London, showed himself at the Castle Tavern.

On Friday, March 18, 1819, about a hundred of the most respectable of the amateurs assembled at the Peacock, Gray’s Inn Lane, in a large room selected for the purpose. The following description of Donnelly appeared in a paper of the day:—“Donnelly at length stripped, amidst thunders of applause. The Venus de Medicis never underwent a more minute scrutiny by the critical eye of the connoisseur than did the Champion of Ireland. In point of frame, he is far from that sort of ‘big one’ which had been previously anticipated: there is nothing loose or puffy about him; he is strong and bony to all intents and purposes. It may be said of Donnelly that he is all muscle. His arms are long and slingy; his shoulders uncommonly fine, particularly when in action, and prominently indicative of their punishing quality; his nob is also a fighting one; his neck athletic and bold; in height nearly six feet; in weight about thirteen stone; and his _tout ensemble_ that of a boxer with first rate qualifications. Thus much for his person. Now a word or two for his quality. His wind appears to be undebauched; his style is resolute, firm, and not to be denied; and he maintains his ground upon the system that Mendoza practised with so much success. Getting away he either disdains, or does not acknowledge, in his system of tactics. His attitude was not admired, and it was thought that he leant too far backward, inclining to his right shoulder. He makes tremendous use of his right hand. Eight rounds were finely and skilfully contested; and Carter, equal to anything on the list for scientific efforts, must be viewed as a formidable opponent for any man. The difference of style between the two performers attracted considerable attention, produced a great variety of remarks, and drew down peals of applause. Carter possesses the agility and confidence of an experienced dancing master, getting away with the utmost coolness, walking round and round his opponent to plant a blow, with the perfection of a professor. Donnelly is not so showy, but dangerous: he is no tapper, nor does he throw blows away; neither is he to be got at without encountering mischief. He is, however, awkward; but final judgment cannot be pronounced from his sparring, more especially as he does not profess the use of the gloves. It was an excellent trial of skill. Carter made some good hits, and Donnelly some strong points; and the end of one round in particular, had it been in the ring, must have been pronounced pepper. The good temper of Donnelly was much noticed; and, impartially speaking, it was a nice point to decide who had the best of it, even in effect. Carter, without doubt, had the show of the thing.”

In consequence of but few persons having had an opportunity of witnessing Donnelly’s talents, the Minor Theatre, in Catherine Street, Strand, was selected on the Thursday following. Ben Burn appeared in opposition to the Irish champion. It was a set-to of considerable merit, and the science of Burn was much applauded. Donnelly soon convinced the spectators of his peculiar forte. He showed off in good style, and finished one round in a way that must have been tremendous in the ring. It was still thought he stood rather too backward, leaning from his opponent; but that could only be decided from a practical result. At all events, Donnelly was a great attraction. Carter and Donnelly finished the performances: it was a sharp and long set-to upon the whole, and loudly applauded. But a wish was expressed that Cribb and Donnelly should have been opposed to each other, in order to give the public an opportunity of deciding upon the different sort of tactics pursued by these rival champions.

At Gregson’s benefit at the same theatre, on April 1, 1819, the principal attraction was the announced combat between the two rival champions, Cribb for England and Donnelly for Old Ireland. This proved an April hoax: Cribb, of course, did not show, and Donnelly set-to with Carter amid the hisses of a crowd of disappointed dupes. Sutton, the man of colour, came forward and challenged Donnelly to fight for £50 a-side. (Great applause.) Richmond presented himself to the audience on the part of Donnelly, stating, “That the Irish champion did not come over to England with the intention of entering the prize ring.” (Disapprobation.) Carter soon followed, and observed that, “As Mr. Richmond had only made half a speech, he would finish it. Mr. Donnelly meant to consult his friends about fighting Sutton.” Sutton again came forward, and said that he would fight Donnelly at five minutes’ notice for £50, or from £100 to £200, at any given time, in a ring.

In consequence of some aspersions having been thrown upon the courage of Donnelly, he published the following document, which was pompously designated—

“THE IRISH CHAMPION’S MANIFESTO TO THE MILLING WORLD.

“At a sparring match, for the benefit of Gregson, on Thursday, the 1st day of April, Donnelly, having met with an accident, hopes the public will pardon him if he did not amuse the gentlemen present to their satisfaction; but it was his wish to do so. After the set-to between Harmer and Sutton, the latter thought proper to come forward and challenge any man, and also Donnelly in particular, for £50 or £100. Donnelly, being somewhat a stranger, did not immediately answer the challenge, until he should first consult his friends; but he has confidence in his friends, both here and in Ireland, that they will back him. He therefore begs leave to say that he did not come over to England for the mere purpose of fighting; but, as it appears to be the wish of the gentlemen here to try his mettle, he begs to say that he will fight any man in England of his weight, from £100 to £500.

“D. DONNELLY.

“Witness, C. BRENANT.”

On the 6th of April, 1819, at Randall’s benefit at the Fives Court, Donnelly had scarcely mounted the stage, when “Cribb! Cribb! Cribb!” was vociferated from all parts of the Court, till Carter made his appearance on the platform ready to commence the combat. The cries of “Cribb!” were now louder, added to hisses, etc., when the Lancashire hero bowed and retired. The Champion of England, however, did not appear; then Carter was called, but he had also left the Court. In the midst of this confusion Harmer offered himself amidst thunders of applause, and appeared to have the best of it; but the set-to was by no means first rate, and Donnelly left off under marks of pain. It ought to have been announced that Donnelly had a large tumour upon his right arm near his elbow. The usage to Donnelly might be termed ungenerous; indeed, it was very unlike the usual generosity of John Bull towards a stranger, and savoured of prejudice, says his countryman, Pierce Egan.

As all this savours of benefit “gag,” we are glad to record that at Martin’s benefit, on Tuesday, April 20, 1819, Oliver challenged Donnelly for 100 guineas a-side, when Randall (Donnelly not being present) mounted the stage, and said he was authorized to accept it on the part of the Irish champion, who would enter the lists with Oliver on that day six weeks for any sum that might be posted.

On May 25, 1819, Donnelly, Cooper, and Carter opened the Minor Theatre, Catherine Street, to exhibit the capabilities of the Irish champion previous to his going into training.

Spring and Donnelly were received with great applause. Donnelly stopped several of Tom’s hits with skill; in fact, from his quick mode of getting away, and the sharpness with which he returned upon his opponent, it was pronounced that he had either acquired considerable science since his arrival in England, or that he now let “peep” some of his fighting requisites. The latter seems to be his real character; as a sparrer he does not show off to advantage. It was a manly bout; some smart facers were given and returned; no niceties were observed, and it afforded general satisfaction.

Articles were signed for Dan’s match with Oliver at Dignam’s, Red Lion, Houghton Street, Clare Market. Fifty guineas level was offered that Oliver proved the favourite during the fight or won the battle. Five hundred guineas were also offered to four hundred that Oliver did not beat Donnelly in the hour, and some large sums were laid at odds that Donnelly did not prove the conqueror in half an hour. Oliver was generally declared “slow,” but a gamer man was not in existence. Upwards of £100,000 were said to be pending in the two countries on the issue of this national pugilistic contest, which came off, for 100 guineas a-side, on Wednesday, July 21, 1819, on Crawley Hurst, thirty miles from London.

The sporting world in Ireland were so warmly interested in this event that numerous parties arrived in England to witness the efforts of their avowed champion. The English boxers viewed him as a powerful opponent, and, jealous for the reputation of their “prize ring,” clenched their fists in opposition whenever his growing fame was chanted. In Ireland, as might be expected, two to one was laid without hesitation, from a knowledge of his capabilities; and in England, where only hearsay evidence was the inducement to make him the favourite, six to four was confidently betted on his winning. The torrents of rain which fell the previous evening to the fight operated as no drawback to the warm-hearted friends of Donnelly, who desired to see a “whack for the honour of Ireland,” and they tramped off in hundreds on the overnight without sigh or murmur, hoping to arrive in time to see their countryman fight and win. Early on the morning of Wednesday the weather proved equally unpropitious, but the game of the fancy was not to be disposed of by rain. A string of carriages of every description, reaching nearly a mile in length, might be seen from the top of the hill above Godstone; and deep “murmurings” occurred when it was announced that the scene of action was to be removed from Blindlow Common to Crawley Hurst, merely owing, it was said, to the caprice of one or two influential persons. The lads were not prepared for this long journey of sixty-two miles out and in, and many of the Rosinantes were unable to perform it. In consequence of this removal, it was two o’clock before the contest commenced. Oliver first threw his hat in the ring, followed by Cribb and Shelton; and Donnelly, waited upon by Tom Belcher and Randall, entering soon afterwards, repeated the token of defiance. Donnelly appeared the heavier man. Betting, seven to four. The green colour for Ireland was tied to the stakes over the blue for England, and the battle commenced.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Donnelly, on stripping, exhibited as fine a picture of the human frame as can well be imagined; indeed, if a sculptor had wished a living model to display the action of the muscles, a finer subject than Donnelly could not have been found. His legs wore firm and well rounded, his arms slingy and powerful, and his _ensemble_ indicated prodigious strength. The idle stories of his bad training were silenced on his putting himself into attitude; and his condition was acknowledged by his friends from Ireland to be far superior than when he fought with either Hall or Cooper on the Curragh of Kildare. Smiling confidence appeared to sit on his brow, his eye was sharp and penetrating, his face clear and animated, and he commenced the combat quite satisfactorily. Oliver was equally fine; and, under the training of Clark, who had waited upon him with the greatest care and attention, displayed flesh as firm as a rock; in fact, Oliver had never been in so good condition before. Such was the state of the combatants. Upon the shaking hands, the current betting was seven to four on Donnelly. The Irish champion was cool and collected, with nothing hurried in his manner. Upwards of a minute elapsed in sparring, or rather the pugilists were dodging each other to get a favourable opportunity. Donnelly made two hits with his left, which fell short, in consequence of Oliver’s getting away. Long sparring. Oliver made an offer to hit, but Donnelly, on the alert, retreated. More sparring, and dodging over the ground, till they got to the ropes in a corner of the ring, when Donnelly hit severely with his left. Several sharp exchanges occurred, and reciprocal fibbing took place, till they both went down in a desperate struggle for the throw, Oliver undermost. Five minutes had elapsed. (Loud shouting from the “boys of the sod,” and “Bravo, Donnelly!”)

2.—Oliver aimed a heavy blow at the body, which Donnelly stopped in good style. Some sharp work occurred again at the ropes. More fibbing, and Oliver again undermost in the throw.

3.—Oliver appeared bleeding at the scratch, and exhibited symptoms of slight distress from the recent struggle. Donnelly made a feeble hit with his right hand, when Shelton exclaimed, laughing, “That’s one of Carter’s hits!” Oliver took the lead; some heavy blows were exchanged, and, when at the ropes, Donnelly was for a short time seen in the struggle balancing on them, till he extricated himself, and both went down. (Loud shouting, and “Well done, Oliver.”)

4.—Donnelly exhibited a new feature in the London prize ring. Oliver again pinked at the body, after the manner he fought with Neat, which Donnelly stopped with much skill; but his right hand, which had been hitherto spoken of as “tremendous,” he did not make use of, although Oliver had already given him several opportunities to have used it to advantage. Oliver made a good hit on the bread-basket, when Donnelly’s left hand told on his opponent’s mug, which staggered him, and he followed him to the ropes. Here some sharp work ensued, and Donnelly made use of his head instead of his fists (which were occupied in holding Oliver) in bumping his opponent’s nob. (Loud shouting, and some disapprobation was expressed at this mode of butting.)[23]

5.—Oliver put in a sharp body blow, and some good counter-hits were exchanged. The mouth of Donnelly was clareted, which was the first blood. The combatants again got in the corner of the ring, when, by way of a finish to the round, Donnelly cross-buttocked his opponent. (“Erin-go-bragh,” from his warm-hearted countrymen, and “Go along, my Danny,” from his John Bull backers.)

6.—Caution on both sides, till Oliver made a chopping right-handed hit on his opponent’s nob. In close quarters at the ropes, after some sharp exchanges, it was urged by several persons close to the ring that Donnelly had hit Oliver down from a blow on the body. On reference to the umpires, it was not admitted as a “knock-down blow,” but that Oliver had slipped and fell.

7.—Oliver planted a good facer, and laughed at his opponent. He also put in a bodier and got away. In short, it might fairly be said, he had the best of the round, and Donnelly went down bleeding. (“Bravo, Oliver!” and great applause.)

8.—Nothing of passion appeared on the part of Donnelly, which it had been urged by his opponents he would exhibit on getting a “nobber or two;” on the contrary, he was as cool as a cucumber. In struggling, both down, Oliver bleeding profusely about the face. (We must not pass over a circumstance which occurred in this round, in consequence of some altercation between the seconds. On Donnelly’s being down, it was urged that, perceiving Oliver meant to fall upon him, he lifted up his legs with intent to kick Oliver, or to divert him from his purpose. This also excited the various opinions and expressions of “Foul!” “Fair!”)

9.—In this round Donnelly received great applause. The men fought into a close, from which Donnelly extricated himself in style, and returned sharply to work, till he had the best of the hitting, and Oliver went down exhausted. The spectators were perfectly convinced that Donnelly was a tremendous hitter with his right hand, when he thought proper to use it. He gave Oliver so hard a blow upon the ribs that the impression of his knuckles was strongly imprinted, and remained visible during the whole of the fight.

10.—Oliver stopped a heavy hit of Donnelly’s, and laughed. But Donnelly was not irritated, and got so much the best of this round that Oliver was prevented from going heavily down by Shelton’s putting out his knee to ease his fall. (Belcher warmly said, “If he acted as foul again, he would knock a hole in his head;” and Randall also observed, he would give him a “topper.” Shelton declared it was an accidental entangling of his legs with Oliver’s, and was not done from design.)

11.—Had Donnelly used his right hand he must have reduced the battle to a certainty in his favour. This was, however, a sharp hitting round, till both went down, Oliver again undermost.

12.—Although the fighting on either side had not been of the highest order, yet the combatants were not insensible to the weight of each other’s arms; and, after fighting up to the ropes, they both stood still, till Donnelly broke away and made some hits. In again closing, both down, Oliver undermost and much exhausted. Twenty-four minutes had now elapsed.

13.—Donnelly, _sans cérémonie_, hit Oliver with his left on the mouth, which sent him staggering from the scratch. In the corner of the ring the struggle was severe to obtain the throw. Oliver received a heavy blow on the throat, and as he was hanging on the ropes, balancing, as it were, Donnelly lifted up his hands not to hit him. (“Very handsome,” and “Bravo, Donnelly.”)

14.—For “big ones,” more smashing rounds might have been expected. Oliver put in a mugger that made Donnelly stagger a little; but he returned to the attack till he got Oliver down.

15.—Donnelly gave some hits that made Oliver reel from his position, and also followed him up with success. At the ropes some exchanges occurred, till Oliver went down.

16.—Oliver made a tremendous blow at the body, which Donnelly stopped well. This was altogether a sharp round, and in the close in the corner of the ring the struggle was so severe that the men became exhausted, and were nearly falling over the ropes upon some of the members of the P. C., when the cry was, “Separate them,” which was done by the seconds, and the round ended. (“Bravo!” and “Well done, both.”)

17.—Some heavy hitting occurred on both sides. Donnelly, on the alert, followed Oliver all over the ring. The latter bled profusely, and, in closing, Donnelly fell with his knees upon Oliver. This circumstance occasioned some loud cries of “Foul,” “Fair,” etc.; but the umpires did not deem it worthy of notice.

18.—Both down at the ropes. Some remarks were made that Donnelly had taken advantage of the situation over Oliver. The umpire observed, in such close quarters it was impossible to discriminate to a nicety; but, from what he saw, he thought Donnelly had behaved perfectly correct.

19.—This was rather a sharp round; in fact, Oliver received so much beating that in going down he fell upon his face. Donnelly also fell on his back.

20.—This round Donnelly faced his opponent with much dexterity; Oliver’s right eye got a severe hit, but he laughed, and nodded at his opponent. The left hand of the Irish champion told severely twice on his man’s mug, and both down, after a good deal of bustling action, Donnelly undermost. (Loud shouting, and “Well done, Oliver.”)

21.—It was not decisive fighting on either side: now and then a sharp hit occurred, till Oliver fell, and Donnelly on him.

22.—A similar round; both down.

23.—The hitting in this round was rather singular. Both the combatants made counter hits at the mouth of each other, and the claret sprung out simultaneously. It was an electrifying shock to both, but it seemed to affect Oliver most. They still kept up the attack till both went down, Oliver undermost.

24.—This was a fighting round altogether, and the spectators began to be intensely interested. Oliver kept hitting and getting away, till he fought into a close. Donnelly broke from it, and the milling was severe, till the Irish champion went down on his knees. (Loud shouting, and “Now, Oliver, go to work, my boy, and you can’t lose it!”)

25.—This round was also manfully contested. Donnelly appeared bleeding at the scratch. Oliver put in a bodier and got away. Some sharp exchanges took place, till both the combatants were glad to resort to sparring for wind. In fact, for an instant they both stood still and looked at each other. Donnelly at length made a hit, and Oliver got away. Both men soon returned hard to work, when Donnelly again went down from the severity of the milling. (Thunders of applause, and Cribb vociferated, “I’ll bet a guinea to half-a-crown.” Three to one was offered on Oliver; but two to one was current betting.)

26.—Donnelly made a hit, but Oliver stopped it. The latter also put in two nobbers, and got away laughing. This circumstance rather irritated Donnelly, and, for the first time, he showed temper, by running furiously after Oliver. Tom warded off the fury of the attack, and ultimately again sent Donnelly down by his hitting. (Another loud shout for Oliver, and “Five to one Oliver will win,” was the general cry. Long faces were to be seen; hedging-off was now the order of the day. The hitherto takers of the odds against Oliver now loudly offered the odds upon the Westminster hero with the fullest confidence.)

27.—Donnelly came up weak and out of wind, but his confidence had not left him, and he gave Oliver a slight facer with his left hand. In struggling, both down, Oliver undermost. Fifty minutes had elapsed. Donnelly had received some heavy blows about the head and neck; nevertheless, it was said by his seconds that he was not distressed by the punishment he had received, but had drank too much water. It is true that many of his backers changed their situations, and went to different parts of the ring to get their money off.

28.—Great anxiety now prevailed among the partisans of Donnelly. Some hits passed to the advantage of Oliver, when Donnelly went down. (The odds were now upon Oliver all round the ring; but Donnelly’s staunchest friends, having no reason to doubt his pluck, took them in numerous instances.)

29.—The men were both upon their mettle, and this round was a good one. The combatants closed, but broke away. Oliver made a hit on Donnelly’s face, laughed, and jumped back. The Irish champion, however, got a turn, and with his left hand planted a rum one on Oliver’s mouth that sent him staggering away. Donnelly, however, received a teazer; sharp exchanges till Donnelly fell, with Oliver upon him.

30.—One hour had expired, and all bets upon that score were lost. Oliver again bodied his opponent, but received a staggering hit on his mug in return. Some exchanges took place till Oliver went down.

31.—The eye of Donnelly began to resume its former fire; his wind appeared improved, and he rather took the lead in this round. Donnelly hit Oliver down, but also fell from a slip; in fact from the force of his own blow.

32.—The Irish champion had evidently got second wind, and, upon Oliver’s receiving a hit on the mouth that sent him some yards from his position, Randall offered to back Donnelly for a level £200. After an exchange of hits, Shelton said, “It was no more use for Donnelly to hit Oliver than a tree, for that Oliver was as hard as iron.” “Nabocleish,” cried a Patlander; “it’s all right. Now, Dan, show your opponent some play.” Some sharp hitting till both resorted to sparring. The men fought into a close, and broke away. The hitting was now so sharp that Oliver turned round to avoid the heavy punishment with which he was assailed, and fell, and Donnelly also slipped down. (“Bravo!” from all parts of the ring. “Well done, Oliver!” “Go along, Donnelly!”)

33.—“Have you got a right hand?” said Tom Belcher to Donnelly; “we must win it, Dan.” The Irish champion hit Oliver a terrible facer that sent him away. “It’s all your own,” said Randall; “do it again.” Donnelly did so with great force. “That’s the way, my boy, echoed Belcher; “another!” Donnelly followed the advice of these excellent tacticians, and he gave a third facer in succession without receiving a return. After some exchanges passed, Oliver was getting rather feeble, from the struggle in bringing Donnelly down, and fell upon him with his knee on his throat. (“Do you call that fair?” said Belcher. “If that circumstance had happened on our side, you would have roared ‘foul’ for an hour.”)

34 and last.—Oliver hit Donnelly on the body. The latter set-to very spiritedly, and nobbed his man. Sharp exchanges ensued, when, in closing, Donnelly put in a dreadful hit under Oliver’s ear, and also cross-buttocked him. Oliver, when picked up and put on his second’s knee, was insensible, and his head hung upon his shoulders. “Time, time,” was called, but the brave, the game, the unfortunate Oliver heard not the sound, and victory was declared in favour of Donnelly. Time, one hour and ten minutes. The latter walked out of the ring amidst shouts of applause, arm-in-arm with Belcher and Randall, to an adjoining farm house, where he was put to bed for a short period, and bled. Oliver did not recover his sensibility for some minutes, when he was also brought to the same house, bled, and put to bed in the next room to Donnelly. The latter expressed great feeling and uneasiness for fear anything serious should happen to Oliver; but when he was informed it was all right, he was as cheerful as if he had not been fighting at all. The Irish champion dressed himself immediately, and, strange to say, Oliver, in the course of half an hour, also recovered, and put his clothes on, lamenting that he had lost the battle under such an unfortunate circumstance, as he was then able to fight an hour. Oliver and Donnelly then shook hands, and drank each other’s health, and the latter then went into a wagon to see the fight between Lashbrook and Dowd. He afterwards left the ground in a barouche and four, to sleep at Riddlesdown, the place where he trained, and arrived at Mr. Dignam’s, the Red Lion, Houghton Street, Clare Market. Oliver also arrived in town the same day.

REMARKS.—Donnelly had now shown his capabilities to the admirers of scientific pugilism in England, and the judgment pronounced upon his merits was briefly this:—The Irish champion has not turned out so good a fighter as was anticipated. To be more precise, he is not that decisive, tremendous hitter with his right which was calculated upon. In fact, he did not use his right hand at all; if he had, he might in all probability have decided the battle full half an hour sooner than it terminated. In game and coolness he is not wanting, and for obtaining “a throw or a fall,” he will prove a dangerous customer for any man on the list. Donnelly might have felt that sort of embarrassment which hangs about a provincial actor who first treads the London boards; and to use his own words upon the merits of the battle, he said it was a bad fight, that he had acted like “a wooden man,” and could not account for it. His next essay, he thought, might prove altogether different from his defeat of Oliver. Donnelly’s right hand was frequently open when he hit. His face appeared, on leaving the ring, exempt from punishment, except some scratches upon his lips. His right ear, however, was strongly marked; but the principal punishment he sustained was upon the body. Oliver was heavily hit about the throat and ears, and also on the body. The latter by no means punished Donnelly as he did Neat; but the heavy falls that Oliver received proved him thoroughly good in nature, a game man, and one that would contend for victory while a spark of animation was left. He never did, nor never will, say “No!” It would be a violation of truth, if the above battle, under all the circumstances, was not pronounced a bad fight, as regarded scientific movements on both sides. The seconds on both sides were on the alert to bring their men through the piece; and every person was astonished to see the activity displayed by Tom Belcher in picking up so heavy a man as Donnelly, and the industry used by Randall. The conduct of the Champion of England was cool and manly in the extreme; and Shelton never lost sight of a point that could assist Oliver.

Dan was, like most of his countrymen, a bit of a humourist. On the day previous to the mill a noble lord called upon Donnelly, at Riddlesdown, about one o’clock, and rather slightingly observed, “That about that time to-morrow he might expect a pretty head from the fist of Oliver.” Donnelly (at all times facetious), looking the lordling full in the face, replied, with an ironical expression, “That he was not born in a wood, to be scared an owl!” The laugh went round against the noble amateur, and by way of softening the thing, he betted Donnelly £15 to £10 upon Oliver, which the Irish champion immediately accepted.

One trait of Donnelly is worthy of notice: on quitting his room to enter the apartment of Oliver, he would not publicly wear the coloured handkerchief of his fallen opponent, but concealed it by way of pad, in the green handkerchief which he wore round his neck.

Soon after Donnelly arrived at Riddlesdown, Shelton, by desire of an amateur, who offered to back him for £200, challenged the Irish champion, to fight at his own time.

The sporting houses were crowded at an early hour in the evening by persons anxious to know the result, and the Castle Tavern, Randall’s, Welch’s, and Dignam’s, overflowed with the well-pleased countrymen of Donnelly. The “Irish division” won large sums by this victory.

Notwithstanding Donnelly’s victory over Oliver, it appeared to be the general opinion that his talents as a pugilist had been much over-rated. Challenges, in consequence, flowed in fast, and a nobleman offered Donnelly his choice out of Cooper, Shelton, Gregson, Sutton, Spring, Carter, Neat, Richmond, and Painter, for £100 a-side. The following document also appeared in the _Weekly Dispatch_, August 15, 1819.

“A CHALLENGE TO DAN DONNELLY, THE CONQUEROR OF OLIVER.

“I, the undersigned, do hereby offer to fight you for 1,000 guineas, at any place, and at any time, which may be agreeable to you, provided it be in England.

“ENOS COPE, _Innkeeper_.

“Witnesses, WM. BAXTER, C. PALMER, J. ALCOCK. “_Macclesfield, July 23, 1819._”

Donnelly was now caressed in the most flattering manner by all ranks of the fancy, but more particularly by his own countrymen; indeed, it might be said that his days, if not a great part of his nights, were completely occupied in taking his drops from one end of the Long Town to the other with his numerous acquaintances. Time rolled on very pleasantly, and it appears, by the way of “seeing a bit of life,” that Dan was taken by some of his friends to view the sports of the West, not forgetting those of some of the “hells” of St. James’s. Here Dan was picked-up one night, and eased of £80 out of the £100 he won by defeating Oliver. It was a “secret” at the time, and only “whispered” all over London. Dan’s blunt was fast decreasing, and reduced to so low an ebb as to remind him that a supply was necessary, and something must be done; therefore, after Mr. Donnelly had shown his “better half” all the fine places in and about London, he naturally felt anxious to return once more to dear Dublin, where his presence might be turned to a good account. It was accordingly agreed that his friends George Cooper and Gregson should accompany him on a sparring tour to Donnybrook Fair. But many things happen between the cup and the lip, and just as Donnelly had taken his seat upon the stage coach, and was in the act of bidding

“Fare thee well; and if for ever, Still for ever fare thee well,”

to his numerous friends, an acquaintance of Dan’s (a swell bum-bailiff) appeared close to the vehicle, and, in the most gentlemanly manner, told Donnelly he wished to speak to him. “And is it me you mane, Jemmy?” replied Dan; “don’t be after joking with me now!” “Indeed I’m not; here’s the writ for £18,” answered the officer. “And is it possible that you want me at the suit of Carter? I don’t owe the blackguard one single farthing. By de powers, it is the other way; Jack’s indebted to me.” Expostulation, however, was useless. The coachman had his whip in his hand, and the two evils before Dan only allowed him to make a momentary decision. The choice left to him was, either to lose his fare to Liverpool, which had been previously paid, and the advantages to result from an exhibition of his talents at Donnybrook Fair (which admitted of no delay), or to remain in London and be screwed up in a sponging house. Donnelly, in a great rage, as the preferable alternative, instantly discharged the writ and galloped off from the metropolis. It is true Dan went off loaded with fame, but it is an equally undeniable fact that he had only a £2 note left in his pocket-book, after all his great success in London, to provide for him and Mrs. Donnelly on their route to the land of Erin.

Thousands of persons assembled on the beach to hail the arrival of the Irish champion on his native shore. Dan had scarcely shown his merry mug, when his warm-hearted countrymen gave him one of the primest fil-le-lus ever heard, and “Donnelly for ever!” resounded from one extremity of the beach to the other. A horse was in readiness to carry him, as so great a personage as “Sir Dan Donnelly” (who, it was currently reported, had been knighted by the Prince Regent for his bravery) could not be suffered to walk. The knight of the fives was attended by the populace through all the principal districts of Dublin, till he arrived at his house in Townshend Street. Dan took his leave gratefully of the multitude, and after flourishing the symbol of the above Order, for the honour of Ireland, and drinking their healths in a “noggin of whiskey,” the crowd retired, highly gratified at the dignified reception which the Irish milling chief had experienced on setting his foot once more on the turf of Ould Ireland.

The sports of Donnybrook Fair, on August 27, 1819, were considerably heightened by the presence of Donnelly, Cooper, and Gregson. They were thus described in a contemporary Dublin newspaper, _Carrick’s Evening Post_:—“Upon no former occasion have we witnessed more enticement to eye or palate: booths of a superior and extensive nature were erected, in which equestrian voltigeur tumbling, sleight of hand, serious and comic singing, and other performances were exhibited. Donnelly, for some reason we cannot account for, has no tent; but he has a booth, wherein Cooper, Gregson, and the Irish champion exhibited sparring, to the great amusement of an admiring audience. This booth was but hastily prepared, but the persons who obtained admittance appeared much pleased with the scientific display of these celebrated pugilists. An amateur of great eminence from Liverpool, at a late hour in the evening, ascended the platform (a ten feet enclosed ring), and encountered Gregson with the gloves. He was evidently no novice in the milling school, and was much applauded. Cooper exhibited superior science, and Gregson displayed the remnant powers of a once first-rate superior man. Dan was thought by the amateurs present to be much improved, but gave himself little trouble else than to show how things ‘might be done;’ he was cheerful and laughing during each ‘set-to.’ The whole passed off in the most regular and quiet manner. The persons present seemed anxious to accord with the expressed wish of the pugilists, that the public peace should be rigidly preserved.” On Tuesday the crowds were greater than upon any previous occasion. The itinerant vocalists were not wanting to contribute their portion of harmony. A variety of songs were circulated, from which we select the following crambonian lyric:—

“DONNYBROOK FAIR.

TUNE—_Robin Adair_.

“What made the town so dull? Donnybrook Fair. What made the tents so full? Donnybrook Fair. Where was the joyous ground, Booth, tent, and merry-go-round? Where was the festive sound? Donnybrook Fair.

“Beef, mutton, lamb, and veal, Donnybrook Fair. Wine, cider, porter, ale, Donnybrook Fair. Whiskey, both choice and pure, Men and maids most demure, Dancing on the ground flure, Donnybrook Fair.

“Where was the modest bow? Donnybrook Fair. Where was the friendly row? Donnybrook Fair. Where was the fun and sport? Where was the gay resort? Where Sir Dan held his Court— Donnybrook Fair.”

The dispute between Carter and Donnelly, respecting the arrest of the latter (whether right or wrong), was not calculated to do Carter good, even in the eyes of the sporting world in England; but in Ireland, it was certain to prejudice the character of the Lancashire hero in the opinion of the fancy, Donnelly being their avowed hero, and so great a favourite. However, with more courage than prudence, or conscious that he had done nothing wrong, Carter[24] almost immediately followed Donnelly to Dublin, and lost no time in parading Donnybrook Fair, going from booth to booth.

In consequence of this, the Irish amateurs wishing not only to witness their champion again exhibit his finishing talents on the Curragh, but also to show they would not suffer him to be brow-beaten upon his own soil, a meeting took place between the friends of both parties. Owing, however, to some trifling delay in making the match, the following challenge, answer, and articles of agreement appeared in the _Dublin Journal_:—

“CHALLENGE TO DONNELLY.

“_To the Editor of the_ DUBLIN JOURNAL.

“SIR,—

“I beg leave, through the medium of your paper, to intimate that I am ready and willing to fight Daniel Donnelly for £200, to be lodged in proper hands, and I am induced to give him this public challenge, in consequence of his having hitherto declined to give a decided answer on a late occasion, when I staked 10 guineas in the hands of a friend of his, who has neither covered nor returned the money, nor given me any satisfaction whether he is willing to fight me or not.

“I am, sir, your obedient servant, “JOHN CARTER.

“_September 18, 1819._”

“THE CHALLENGE RE-CHALLENGED AND REFUTED.

“DONNELLY AND CARTER.

“The committee of friends and supporters of Donnelly, the Irish champion, have observed, with much surprise and regret, an advertisement in the _Dublin Evening Post and Correspondent_ of Saturday last, signed ‘John Carter.’ Their surprise was excited by the statement of a public challenge to Donnelly, when, in fact, a challenge had been previously exchanged and ratified. They regret that any person placing himself before the public should so pervert facts. As to the deposits and binding of the contract, the friends of Donnelly have produced, and are still anxious to lodge, £200 in his support. They have repeatedly signified this intention, and appointed places for interview, at which neither Carter nor his friends (if he has any) have attended. If the object of Carter’s advertisement is to retract and regain his deposit (a pretty good proof that no public challenge was necessary), although the sporting world would decide against the refunding of the 10 guineas in question, he shall cheerfully have it. The public will judge of his motives; but if Carter, previous to his projected immediate trip to Scotland, is not determined to shy the combat, Donnelly’s friends are ready to lodge the £200 required, and only desire that Carter may be serious and determined. The determination of Donnelly’s friends is to support him to the extent his opponents require, or to the amount of the original agreement, which was to fight for £500 in six weeks, at the Curragh.

‘Let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung.’

“_Committee Room, 20, Fownes’ Street, September 20, 1819._”

A match between the above pugilists was at length made, and the following were the articles:—

“_Dublin, September 20,1819._

“Mr. W. Dowling, on the one part, and Mr. L. Byrne, on the other part. Mr. Dowling deposits £20 sterling, on behalf of John Carter, and Mr. L. Byrne deposits, on the part of Daniel Donnelly, £20 sterling, into the hands of Mr. John Dooly; the parties to meet at No. 20, Fownes Street, Dublin, on the 5th of October next, at two o’clock on the said day precisely, to make the above sum £50 each. The combatants to meet within thirty miles of Dublin, on the 25th of November next, and then fight, at twelve o’clock in the day, the place to be hereafter tossed for and named, for the sum of £200 sterling a-side. The whole of the stakes to be made good on the 23rd of November, two days previous to fighting, when the place will be appointed, or the £50 deposit money to be forfeited. To be a fair stand-up fight, half-minute time, in a twenty-four feet ring. Also, if the parties, or money for the said parties, according to this article, do not meet on the 5th of October next, the present £20 stake must also be forfeited.

“JOHN CARTER. “G. D——. “W. DOWLING. “L. BYRNE.

“Present, THOMAS BOYLAN, ROBERT GREGSON.”

To the mortification of the fancy, this match went off upon a frivolous dispute as to the appointment of a stakeholder. Donnelly, in a discussion with Cooper’s backers, said fairly, addressing himself to Cooper, “When I defeated you, George, upon the Curragh, you got more money than I did; but when I fought Oliver in England, upon proving the conqueror, the whole of the money, 100 guineas, was presented to me. If this plan is adopted in Ireland I have no objection to fight Carter.” This proposition, however, from motives it is now impossible to discover, was refused by Carter’s friends.

Donnelly’s public-house in Pill Lane was generally crowded. Carter also took a house in Barrack Street, in opposition to the Irish champion; and Bob Gregson opened a punch-house in Moor Street, Dublin. Milling topics were, therefore, the order of the day in the “sweet city.”

Dan seemed now at the apex of popularity, with a prospect, backed by common prudence, of attaining permanent prosperity. His house was overflowing nightly with company, the blunt pouring rapidly into his treasury, and his milling fame on the highest eminence; but, in the midst of this laughing scene, the ugliest customer Dan had ever met with introduced himself. Without any preliminary articles, or agreeing as to time; nay, without even shaking fists, the Universal Leveller gave the stout Sir Daniel such a body blow that all the wind was knocked out of him in a twinkling; the “scratch” disappeared from his darkened optics, and he went “to sleep” to wake only to the last call of “time!” In plain prose, this renowned knight of fistic frays took sudden leave of his friends, family, and the P.R., on the 18th of February, 1820, in consequence of taking a copious draught of cold water, while in a state of perspiration after an active game at “fives.” He was in the thirty-second year of his age, and not a few of his best friends declare that whiskey-punch, by over-heating his blood, hastened the catastrophe. We shall here introduce a few random anecdotes from “Boxiana.”

Soon after Dan’s arrival in London, he met Cooper and Hall one evening at the Castle Tavern, when, after inquiring after their health, he facetiously asked them if they should like a little of Mr. Donnelly in England, as they had stated fair play was not allowed to them in Ireland. Silence got rid of the inquiry.

A General, well known in the sporting circles, in order to try the milling capabilities of Donnelly (his countryman), soon after his arrival in England, invited the Irish champion to his house, where he set-to with a gentleman amateur, distinguished for his superior knowledge of the art of self-defence. After some active manœuvring, Donnelly put in such a tremendous facer, that for several minutes the gentleman was in a state of stupor, whereon General B—— became a firm backer of Sir Dan.

Pierce Egan finds fun in his hero’s worst failing. He tells us gleefully that the severity of training did not accord with Donnelly’s disposition. It was insufferable restraint to him. In fact, he did not like going into training at all, and some difficulty occurred, nay, he was almost coaxed to leave the metropolis. During his stay at Riddlesdown, while training to fight Oliver, he was at table with some gentlemen, when green peas were among the vegetables at dinner. One of the company, distinguished for his knowledge of training, observed Donnelly helping himself to the peas, and immediately stated to him that peas were improper for a person training. Donnelly laughed heartily, exclaiming, “And sure is it a pae that will hurt me? no, nor a drop of the cratur neither,” tossing off a glass of brandy. He also enjoyed himself during the afternoon in the same manner as the rest of the company, till the time arrived for his going to work, _i.e._, walking the distance of six miles. Donnelly on starting, said, “Now you shall soon see how I’ll take the paes and liquor out of me!” and ascended with great rapidity the high, steep hill in front of Wheeler’s door without apparent fatigue. He returned to the company in a short time in a violent state of perspiration, having performed the distance. Solitude, however, was far from Dan’s delight: company was his passion. While his friends remained with him at Riddlesdown it was all right; but when they departed, it is said, he took a small drop of “stuff” with him to bed, to prevent his lying awake. At other times he stole out in the dark to poach for petticoats, and the preserves of Croydon, it seems, supplied even more than his wants. This circumstance will, in a great degree, account for his distressed and blown state during the battle with Oliver.

It is a well-known fact that, immediately after his battle with Oliver, it was not only discovered, but he acknowledged, that he had unfortunately contracted a disease in the promiscuousness of his amours. It is usual for pugilists during their training to have a companion to look after them. It was not so with Donnelly; but if he had had such a person, it would have been of little, if any, use, as Dan was beyond control. It was, however, truly astonishing to view Donnelly’s fine appearance on entering the ring to meet Cooper. When the Irish champion fought Cooper on the Curragh of Kildare, it appears he had been trained up to the highest pitch of excellence by Captain Kelly, and was strong as a giant and active as a rope dancer. To the Captain, Donnelly yielded implicit obedience; but he would not be dictated to by his equals—indeed, he was totally unmanageable.

Donnelly was extremely fond of a joke; and upon a porter coming to him, soon after his arrival in England, late one evening, at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, informing Dan that his wife would be glad to see him at the White Horse in Fetter Lane, as soon as possible, Donnelly asked, with great eagerness, “What sort of a woman she was?” The porter, surprised at the singularity of such a question, enquired, “What, sir, don’t you know your own Wife?” The champion, smiling, replied, “Is she a big woman? Well, never mind; tell her I’ll come and look, just to see if I know her.”[25]

It should seem that Donnelly had a great aversion to be looked upon as a prize-fighter. In the course of two or three evenings after his battle with Oliver, Dignam’s long room was crowded with his countrymen, anxious to congratulate him on his recent victory. Donnelly, who was dining with some swells above stairs, was informed of the circumstance, and solicited to go down and to walk through the room. To which Donnelly replied, “Sure, now, do they take me for a baste, to be made a show of? I’m no fighting man, and I won’t make a staring stock of myself to plase anybody.” This was spoken angrily, and it required the utmost persuasions of his friend Dignam to induce him to comply with so reasonable a request. Dan at length conceded, and upon entering the room he was received with the loudest cheers.

In short, poor Dan was a creature of the moment. He was most excellent company, creating mirth and laughter all around him. His sayings were droll in the extreme, and his behaviour was always decorous. Forethought was no ingredient in his composition; “to-morrow,” with him, might or might not be provided for: that never created any uneasiness in his mind, and was left entirely to chance, or, as Dan would express it, “Divil may care!” Such was the character of Donnelly. He was an Irishman every inch of him—generous, good-natured, and highly grateful. As a pugilist, it is true, he did not raise himself in the estimation of the English amateurs by his battle with Oliver; nor did the Irish fancy in London think so much of his capabilities as they had anticipated; indeed, those gentlemen who came from Ireland to witness the battle expressed themselves surprised at the deficiency of boxing talent displayed by their favourite. This, however, will astonish no one who has perused the few preceding paragraphs of his heedless conduct and neglect of training. He was declared to be unlike the same man who defeated Cooper. The fact is, that our Hibernian friends either undervalue or thoughtlessly neglect those precautions, without which strength, pluck, and skill must succumb to more ordinary physical qualifications, if backed by temperance. In fact, the fight was won by Donnelly by his wrestling superiority, rather than his hitting.

We now quit the living Sir Dan to note the public and literary honours bestowed upon his decease. Foremost amongst these comes _Blackwood’s Magazine_, for May, 1820, wherein twenty closely printed pages are devoted to a most amusing collection of “solemn dirges,” letters of condolence, lamentations, plaintive ballads, odes and songs, an eloquent funeral oration, etc., and scraps of Hebrew, Greek, and Latin poems in honour of the heroic deceased. The scholar will be delighted, and the general reader amused, by the genuine humour and erudite pleasantry therein displayed. Our space forbids us more than a selection of a few of these serio-comic effusions of Christopher North and his coadjutors.

“Recollections of Sir Daniel Donnelly, Knt., P.C.I.[26]

“When green Erin laments for her hero, removed From the isle where he flourished, the isle that he loved, Where he entered so often the twenty-foot lists, And, twinkling like meteors, he flourished his fists, And gave to his foes more set-downs and toss-overs, Than ever was done by the great philosophers, In folio, in twelves, or in quarto.

“Majestic O’Donnelly! proud as thou art, Like a cedar on top of Mount Hermon, We lament that death shamelessly made thee depart, With the gripes, like a blacksmith or chairman. Oh! hadst thou been felled by Tom Cribb in the ring, Or by Carter been milled to a jelly, Oh! sure that had been a more dignified thing, Than to “kick” for a pain in thy belly.

“A curse on the belly that robbed us of thee, And the bowels unfit for their office; A curse on the potheen you swallowed so free, For a stomach complaint, all the doctors agree, Far worse than a headache or cough is. Death, who like a cruel and insolent bully, drubs All those he thinks fit to attack, Cried, ‘Dan, my tight lad, try a touch of my mulligrubs,’ Which laid him flat on his back.

“Great spirits of Broughton, Jem Belcher, and Fig, Of Corcoran, Pearce, and Dutch Sam; Whether ‘up stairs’ or ‘down,’ you kick up a rig, And at intervals pause, your blue ruin to swig, Or with grub your bread-basket to cram; Or whether, for quiet, you’re placed all alone, In some charming retired little heaven of your own, Where the turf is elastic—in short, just the thing That Bill Gibbons would choose when he’s forming a ring; That, whenever you wander, you still may turn to, And thrash, and be thrashed, till you’re black and blue; Where your favourite enjoyments for ever are near, And you eat and you drink, and you fight all the year; Ah! receive, then, to join in your milling delight, The shade of Sir Daniel Donnelly, Knight, With whom a turn-up is no frolic; His is no white or cold liver, For he beat O-liver, Challenged Carter, and—died of the colic!”

“Sorrow is Dry.

“A PLAINTIVE BALLAD.

“When to Peggy Bauldie’s daughter first I told Sir Daniel’s death, Like a glass of soda-water, it took away her breath; It took away your breath, my dear, and it sorely dimm’d your sight, And aye ye let the salt, salt tear down fall for Erin’s knight; For he was a knight of glory bright, the spur ne’er deck’d a bolder, Great George’s blade itself was laid upon Sir Daniel’s shoulder. Sing hey ho, the Sheddon, etc.

“I took a turn along the street, to breathe the Trongate air, Carnegie’s lass I chanced to meet, with a bag of lemons fair; Says I, ‘Gude Meg, ohone! ohone! you’ve heard of Dan’s disaster— If I’m alive, I’ll come at five, and feed upon your master;— A glass or two no harm will do to either saint or sinner. And a bowl with friends will make amends for a so-so sort of dinner.’

“I found Carnegie in his nook, upon the old settee, And dark and dismal was his look, as black as black might be, Then suddenly the blood did fly, and leave his face so pale, That scarce I knew, in altered hue, the bard of Largo’s vale; But Meg was winding up the Jack, so off flew all my pains, For, large as cocks, two fat earocks I knew were hung in chains.

“Nevertheless, he did express his joy to see me there— Meg laid the cloth, and, nothing loth, I soon pull’d in my chair; The mutton broth and bouilli both came up in season due. The grace is said, when Provan’s head at the door appears in view; The bard at work, like any Turk, first nods an invitation, For who so free as all the three from priggish botheration?

“Ere long the Towdies deck the board with a cod’s head and shoulders, And the oyster sauce it surely was great joy to all beholders. To George our king a jolly can of royal port is poured— Our gracious king who knighted Dan with his own shining sword; The next we sip with trembling lip—’tis of the claret clear— To the hero dead that cup we shed, and mix it with a tear.

“’Tis now your servant’s turn to mix the nectar of the bowl; Still on the ring our thoughts we fix, while round the goblets roll, Great Jackson, Belcher, Scroggins, Gas, we celebrate in turns, Each Christian, Jew, and Pagan, with the fancy’s flame that burns; Carnegie’s finger on the board a mimic circle draws, And, Egan-like, h’ expounds the rounds and pugilistic laws.

“’Tis thus that worth heroic is suitably lamented— Great Daniel’s shade, I know it, dry grief had much resented. What signify your tear and sigh? A bumper is the thing Will gladden most the generous ghost of a champion of the king. The tear and sigh, from voice and eye, must quickly pass away, But the bumper good may be renewed until our dying day.”

“A Dirge over Sir Daniel Donnelly.

“TUNE—‘_Molly Astore_.’

“As down Exchequer Street[27] I strayed, a little time ago, I chanced to meet an honest blade, his face brimful of woe; I asked him why he seem’d so sad, or why he sigh’d so sore? ‘O Gramachree, och, Tom,’ says he, ‘Sir Daniel is no more!’

“With that he took me straight away, and pensively we went To where poor Daniel’s body lay, in wooden waistcoat pent; And many a yard before we reached the threshold of his door, We heard the keeners, as they screeched, ‘Sir Daniel is no more!’

“We entered soft, for feelings sad were stirring in our breast, To take our farewell of the lad who now was gone to rest; We took a drop of Dan’s potheen,[28] and joined the piteous roar; Oh, where shall be his fellow seen, since Daniel is no more?

“His was the fist, whose weighty dint did Oliver defeat, His was the fist that gave the hint it need not oft repeat. His was the fist that overthrew his rivals o’er and o’er; But now we cry, in phillalu, ‘Sir Daniel is no more!’

“Cribb, Cooper, Carter, need not fear great Donnelly’s renown, For at his wake we’re seated here, while he is lying down; For Death, that primest swell of all, has laid him on the floor, And left us here, alas! to bawl, ‘Sir Daniel is no more!’

“EPITAPH.

“Here lies Sir Daniel Donnelly, a pugilist of fame, In Ireland bred and born was he, and he was genuine game; Then if an Irishman you be, when you have read this o’er, Go home and drink the memory of him who is no more.”

“Childe Daniel—A Lament.

“In Fancy-land there is a burst of woe, The spirit’s tribute to the fallen; see On each scarr’d front the cloud of sorrow glow, Bloating its sprightly shine. But what is he For whom grief s mighty butt is broach’d so free? Were his brows shadow’d by the awful crown, The bishop’s mitre, or high plumery Of the mail’d warrior? Won he his renown On pulpit, throne, or field, whom Death hath now struck down?

“He won it in the field, where arms are none, Save those the mother gives to us. He was A climbing star, which had not fully shone; Yet promised, in his glory, to surpass Our champion star ascendant: but, alas! The sceptred shade that values early might, And pow’r, and pith, and bottom, as the grass, Gave with his fleshless fist a buffet slight—

· · · · ·

“’Tis done. Green-mantled Erin May weep; her hopes of milling sway past by, And Cribb, sublime, no lowlier rival fearing, Before, sole Ammon of the fistic sky, Concerted, quaffing his blue ruin high, Till comes the swell that come to all men must, By whose ‘foul blow’ Sir Daniel low doth lie, Summons the champion to resign his trust, And mingles his with kings’, slaves’, chieftains’, beggars’ dust!”

The Funeral.

On Sunday, February 27, 1820, the remains of this celebrated character were borne, with all due pomp and solemnity, from his family residence in Greek Street to the last asylum at Bully’s Acre, where his ancestors lie quietly inurned. An immense concourse, some in carriages and some on horseback, moving in slow and measured pace, formed part of the procession. There was a strong muster of the fancy. The gloves were carried on a cushion in front of the hearse, from which the horses had been unyoked by the crowd, and multitudes contended for the honour of assisting in drawing it. The procession took its route through the leading streets of the city, and the numbers, as it passed, increased until the body of the champion was lodged in its last resting-place. It is for posterity to do justice to the prowess of Sir Daniel Donnelly. Not the least remarkable feature in his eventful history is, that he was the last person who received the honour of knighthood during the regency: there might have been, and probably were, worse men among those who received that honour before him. Although last, he did not deserve to be held as least, among the knights of our day.

“What dire misfortune has our land o’erspread? Our Irish Champion’s numbered with the dead; And he who never did to mortal bend, By Death’s cut short, and Ireland’s lost her friend. Ah! cruel Death, why were you so unkind, To take Sir Dan, and leave such trash behind As Gregson, Cooper, Carter—such a clan To leave behind, and take so great a man? Oh! Erin’s daughters, come and shed your tears On your bold Champion’s grave, whose shortened years Have made Erin’s sons this day a day of sorrow— Who have we now that will defend our Curragh?”

To the Blackwood collection we again resort for the proposed inscription for an obelisk to Sir Daniel’s memory:—

“The Epitaph.

“Underneath this pillar high Lies Sir Daniel Donnelly: He was a stout and handy man, And people called him ‘Buffing Dan;’ Knighthood he took from George’s sword, And well he wore it, by my word! He died at last, from forty-seven Tumblers of punch he drank one even; O’erthrown by punch unharmed by fist, He died unbeaten pugilist! Such a buffer as Donnelly, Ireland never again will see.

“OBIIT XIII^o KAL. MARTII, MDCCCXX. ÆTAT SUÆ XXXII.”