CHAPTER VIII.

JACK CARTER, “THE LANCASHIRE HERO”—1812–1832.[29]

The reputation of Jack Carter as a pugilist suffered unduly from two causes. First, from ridiculously exaggerated press flourishes about his prowess, skill, and formidable qualities by partizan scribes; and, secondly, by a factious band of provincial supporters and adherents, who spoilt their man by their indiscriminate support and attempts, by clamour and intimidation, to carry their _protégé_ to the topmost position, in despite of the interposition of better men. Poor Carter, too, an unstable, self-conceited, and, when excited, an offensive and bullying rough, was spoilt for his calling as well as for decent society, by his injudicious “following.” Pierce Egan, who prematurely dubs him in his first volume “the Lancashire hero(?)” furnishes us with the only account of the early life of Bob Gregson’s _protégé_, which, its magniloquence notwithstanding, reveals the secret that Jack Carter was a mere “Lancashire rough,” and not a whit too courageous; nor, for that matter, commonly honest; though Shakespeare says, “to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.” In his second and third volumes (for Carter figures in each) stubborn facts reduce Carter’s dimensions and character as “a champion(?);” and in the last Pierce prefaces his jeremiad over this perverted “navvy” by misusing the Miltonic motto, “How are the mighty fallen!” though when or how Carter was “mighty” is a puzzler. This he follows with an array of gasconading advertisements, challenges, and thrasonical handbills. Here, with some pruning of redundances, is the story of Jack’s early days as detailed in “Boxiana”:—

“Carter was born at Manchester, September 13, 1789, of respectable parents, who apprenticed him to a shoemaker, but being a strong, healthy lad, and not liking the confinement of the trade, left it to give a lending hand towards the improvement of his country, by commencing navigator, and working upon the canals in that neighbourhood. It was among those rough-hewn, hardy sons of the creation, that Carter began to exhibit his feats of strength by milling several of the best considered men in their whole phalanx. Jack was in height about five feet ten inches and a half, and weighed about thirteen stone; and it was the following droll and singular circumstance that brought him into notice, both as a pedestrian and a pugilist. The navigators, in one of their moments of hilarity, proposed a jackass race, and entered into subscriptions for that purpose; the stakes were held by a Mr. Merryman, belonging to a mountebank, who was then gammoning the flats in that part of the country. Mr. Merryman was a good tumbler, full of fun, and could fight a bit, and had rendered himself an attractive personage to the numerous Johnny Raws by whom he was surrounded. Upon the day arriving for the race to take place, no neddy was entered to run for the stakes, except one belonging to Mr. Merryman. This circumstance created surprise; in fact, much disappointment. Jack Carter instantly entered himself as a jackass. At first, some little argument took place as to the oddness of the attempt, but at length it was logically determined that Carter was a jackass, and that he should be entered as such, upon which they started. Away went neddy with all the fleetness of a prime donkey, kicking and snorting over the ground; and the jackass set out in fine style, amidst the shouts and laughs of the multitude, who now began to bet in all manner of shapes—Christian against donkey, and neddy against jackass. The distance was four miles, producing considerable wagers and much diversion among the spectators. The jackass possessing rather more knowledge than the neddy, made the best of his way, leaving the donkey behind him, came in first and claimed the stakes. No jackass was ever so much caressed before for winning a race. But Mr. Merryman now treated it as only a joke, observing that he only let Carter run to increase the sport, and disputed his claim as a jackass. It was certain that all the words in Johnson’s Dictionary would not have satisfactorily explained this knotty point; and there not being logicians enough present to place the question in a proper point of view, a nearer road was taken to settle the matter. Carter gave Mr. Merryman to understand that, if he did not instantly hand over the stakes, that it should be milled out of his carcass. Merryman received this threat with a smile of contempt, entertaining an idea that as this jackass had been running four miles, his wind could not be good for much, and agreed that the fist should decide it. A ring being formed, Merryman was soon made to laugh on the wrong side of his mouth; and he who had hitherto tumbled for the pleasure of the crowd, was now, in spite of his antics, knocked down often, and punished so severely that he was compelled, not only to give in, but to give up the money.”

Carter’s fame as a boxer and racer was soon spread abroad, and he entered the lists in a short time afterwards with a heavy strong man, a navigator, at Preston, who had gained some good battles in his time. It was a truly severe conflict, and occasioned considerable conversation in Lancashire. He was matched in several races, in one of which he beat the celebrated Abraham Wood, though, from Pierce Egan’s own showing, in another page, this seems to have been not only after his coming to London, but subsequently to his first fight with Boone, the soldier.

It was while working at the Highgate Tunnel that Bob Gregson first met Carter. He was a Lancashire man, and that was enough to recommend him to Bob, who we have proof sufficient was neither a good fighter himself nor much of a judge of what constitutes one, like his modern double, Ben Caunt. “Upon inquiry,” adds “Boxiana,” “it was found that Carter had proved himself a trump!” and says, “all that he wanted was _experience_, _science_(!), and introduction.” “He shall have that,” cried Bob, and instantly, at his own expense, took care of Carter, and placed him under the “Rolands” (whose distinguished skill in fencing and as pugilistic teachers was then in its zenith). Pierce continues, “It is but justice to Carter to observe that, under such tuition, he soon made considerable progress in the art, and when it was judged a proper time to give publicity to his attempt, Bob introduced him at the Fives Court.” Carter’s appearance is thus flatteringly described in the _Morning Advertiser_ of Wednesday, July 29, 1812:—

“SPARRING.—The last sparring exhibition took place yesterday at the Fives Court, for the benefit of Power, a pugilist, who, as a professor of the science, is inferior to none on the boxing list, but his exhibitions have been rare. The greatest novelty on this occasion was an exhibition between a trial-man of Gregson’s, named Carter, from Lancashire, a candidate of first-rate weight for fighting fame, and Fuller, a scientific pupil of Richmond’s. A ruffianing match took place, and, not to give superiority to either, it was a match which afforded much diversion, and it will cause a considerable sensation in the sporting world. Gregson’s man, who is under the best tuition, will prove a tremendous teazer, if he be gifted with the best of pugilistic favours—game—which remains to be tried. He is a fine weighty left-handed hitter, and, _if_ game be in him, he can beat anything now on the list.”

With such a character, though the “if” in respect to his “game” looks very like a misgiving, Carter was matched against Boone, the soldier, for an unknown stake. Boone (made Bone in “Boxiana”) has not a single fight to his credit in “Fistiana,” except that with Crockey, a wretched affair, four years after this exhibition. The battle came off on Friday, September 18, 1812, near Ealing, Middlesex, when, after twelve rounds, in seventeen minutes, Boone gave in. Egan says it was “a severe contest,” and adds, “In this battle Carter’s patrons thought he had made good his pretensions to milling, and looked forward anxiously to place him nearly, if not quite, at the top of the boxing list.” They accordingly matched him against Jack Power. (See POWER, in Appendix.) The stake was the handsome sum of 200 guineas, subscribed by Gregson’s friends, and on the 16th of November, 1812, the fight came off at Rickmansworth, Herts. The battle will be found in the Life of POWER, who, despite the recent rupture of a blood-vessel, and incapacity for severe training, thrashed Carter in thirty-nine rounds, occupying one hour and five minutes. “Boxiana” says, with edifying _naïvete_, “Carter attributed the loss of this battle to his second (Isaac Bittoon) placing a Belcher handkerchief over his mouth, which tended rather to deprive him of his wind (query, courage) than to do anything to increase that necessary _quality_ in a boxer.” He adds, “If Carter in his battle with Power did not exhibit those traits of finished elegance which characterise the skilful pugilist, he nevertheless portrayed that he was not ignorant of the principles of boxing, and his patrons were perfectly satisfied with the bottom which he manifested upon the occasion,” which shows they were thankful for very small mercies, as Carter brought youth, weight, length, and strength to the losing side.

After much cavilling a match was made between Carter and Molineaux. Poor Molineaux, having been twice beaten by Cribb, was now on his downward course (see vol. i., pp. 282–285, _ante_), yet, in this contest, which took place at Remington, Gloucestershire, on Friday, the 2nd of April, 1813, Carter was disgracefully beaten by the once formidable nigger. Of this affair, on which we have commented in the life of Molineaux, a contemporary writes:—“It was the opinion of the most experienced pugilists that such a set-to was never before witnessed; one ‘was afraid, and the other dared not.’ Carter was the best man after the battle began, and continued so throughout the fight. Molineaux was wretched in the extreme, and at one time positively bolted from his second. But to the great astonishment of all the spectators, when Molineaux was dead beat, Carter fainted and dropped his head as he sat on the knee of his second. All the exertions of Richmond could not arouse Carter from his lethargic state, and he thus lost the battle.”

In the next paragraph we find “Boxiana” stating, “as a boxer, and even as a scientific pugilist, Carter was entitled to considerable prominency (whatever that may mean); and, if viewed as a fibber (was the historian unconsciously writing autobiography?), it would be difficult to find a better one. In point of hitting and getting away, he is little inferior, if not equal, to Richmond, and very good and active upon his legs. With his left hand he dealt out severe punishment; and although in his former contests his right hand appeared but of little service to him, yet he seemed to have rather improved in the use of it. One objection which had been warmly argued against Carter by many of the fancy was, that he was soft about the head, afraid of the coming blow, and shrank from punishment; while, on the contrary, it was roundly asserted by the other part that, if he behaved correctly, his game was unimpeachable.”

After his defeat by Molineaux, Carter exhibited the art of self-defence in Ireland, Scotland, and most of the provincial towns in England, with great success; and from his continual practice in those trials of skill, aided by considerable intuitive knowledge upon the subject of boxing, he returned to the metropolis an active and improved fighter. Upon his arrival in London, Carter, without hesitation, declared himself ready to enter the lists with any man in the kingdom; and this public challenge, as might be supposed, was not suffered to remain long unanswered, and Richmond, in consequence, catered a fine, strong, healthy black, of the name of Joseph Stephenson, weighing upwards of fourteen stone, from Havre de Grace, Maryland, in America, as a likely opponent.

The Pugilistic Club gave a purse of twenty-five guineas, and the combatants put down twenty-five also a-side. On Tuesday, February 6, 1816, the above heroes(!) met at Coombe Warren. This battle excited considerable interest throughout the pugilistic circles; and, notwithstanding the torrents of rain that deluged the roads, from seven in the morning till seven at night without intermission, thousands of spectators braved the elements with the utmost _nonchalance_. The men entered the ring about one o’clock; Cribb and Shelton acting as seconds to Carter, and Richmond and Oliver for Stephenson. Two to one in many instances upon Carter.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On setting-to, Carter had scarcely placed himself in a fighting position when, with much dexterity, he gave Stephenson a desperate nobber. The man of colour seemed rather surprised at this sudden attack, but he bored his way into a sharp rally. The pink first appeared on Carter’s face. The latter, in closing, fibbed Stephenson, but he was undermost when down. (Seven to four against the Black.)

2.—Carter again commenced offensive operations with his left hand, and the Black’s head was completely open to him. Some blows were exchanged, and, in closing, Carter found his way to the ground.

3.—It was evident the man of colour was the strongest, and that Carter might have come into the ring better prepared for action. Stephenson endeavoured to put in some heavy blows, but the science of Carter was too much for him. The latter hit and got away in good style; but, in a sharp rally, the Black showed tolerable resolution. In struggling to obtain the throw, both went down.

4.—Carter showed bad condition, and was much in want of wind; but Stephenson did not appear to avail himself of this opportunity of turning it to account. Carter, with great dexterity, not only nobbed his opponent successfully with his left hand, without experiencing any return, but made use of his right better than usual. The Black, however, in closing, endeavoured to fib his adversary; but Carter extricated himself with much adroitness, and went down. (Two to one was now offered on Carter with great confidence.)

5.—Stephenson did not appear eager to commence the attack, and some little sparring was also necessary, that Carter might recover his wind. The Black knew more about receiving than any other part of the science, and Carter milled him on the retreat with great _sang froid_. Stephenson, rather passionate from this sort of treatment, endeavoured to bore in upon his adversary, but Carter stopped short upon him, and, measuring his distance well, the man of colour measured his length on the grass in a twinkling.

6.—The strength of the Black at times gave him rather the advantage, and, in finishing this round, Carter was thrown. (Seven to two on the latter, but no takers.)

7.—Stephenson seemed almost tired of the battle, and got down in the best manner he was able. (Any odds upon Carter.)

8.—Stephenson readied the scratch greatly distressed, and Carter sent him down from a slight touch.

9.—The left hand of Carter was again in motion, but Stephenson caught hold of it, and the word “stop,” it was understood, had escaped from his lips. Carter instantly made his exit from the ring, and upon his seconds preparing to follow him, Stephenson insisted it was a mistake, and that he was determined to continue the contest. Nearly half an hour had now elapsed, and Carter immediately resumed offensive operations.

10.—Carter, somewhat angry at this disappointment, went to work in sharp style, and the Black again felt the severity of his left hand. In closing, both went down.

It would be superfluous to detail the succeeding rounds of this battle. It was perfectly ridiculous on the part of Stephenson to resume the fight, as not the slightest chance appeared to turn it to his account. At the expiration of forty-four minutes, victory was declared in favour of Carter. From the well-known science of the latter, it was expected that he would have been able to dispose of Stephenson in much less time; but Carter, it seemed, looked upon the event so certain as to be indifferent respecting his appearance in the ring in good condition. Stephenson had merely to boast of strength; in other respects he was little better than a novice.

Three months had scarcely elapsed, when a formidable man of colour, of the name of Robinson, who had acquired some celebrity from the execution he had performed among second-rate boxers, and ambitiously eager to achieve conquests of greater importance, agreed to enter the lists with Carter, at Moulsey Hurst, on Wednesday, April 24, 1816, for a stake of fifty guineas, and also a purse of twenty-five, given by the P. C., in a twenty-feet roped ring. Vehicles of all descriptions were in requisition at an early hour to reach the destined spot; and the curiosity of the fancy was so strongly excited to witness this mill that, by twelve o’clock, it might be fairly stated the Hurst contained little short of 20,000 people. Robinson was a fancied article, declared capable of performing pugilistic wonders. He had beaten Crockey in prime twig,[30] and Butcher he had also vanquished in decent style; and when the match was first made between Robinson and Carter, the Black was rather the favourite with those characters who are always eager for novelty, and considerable bets were laid in his favour; and even some of the knowing ones were doubtful on the subject. It cannot be denied that Carter never stood A1 in the esteem of the fancy. They knew he did not want for science; they knew he did not want for strength and activity; and they also were acquainted that he could run and jump well, and that he was a boxer above mediocrity. Still there was an inexpressible something that seemed to pervade their opinions, which kept many from going that length upon Carter they might otherwise have done; added to which, Robinson talked confidently of his capabilities of sarving-out, which blinded the too credulous as to the real state of things. But the flash side, upon looking into the chances and comparing notes upon the subject, soon became awake as to the issue likely to ensue, and previously to the fight, six to four first came forward, five to three, and lastly seven to four upon Carter. A few minutes before one the Black showed in the ring, and tossed up his hat. Carter soon followed and did the same, and immediately came up to Robinson and shook hands with him. Soon after their seconds appeared—Paddington Jones and Dick Whale for Robinson, and Painter and Harry Harmer for Carter—when they stripped and commenced

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Carter had scarcely set-to, when he gave Blacky a severe facer with his left hand, and quick as lightning put in two more tremendous hits upon the same cheek, and got away with much dexterity before the man of colour was able to return. The Black, in closing, got somewhat fibbed, and went down. (Seven to four generally was offered, but no takers appeared. Two to one in many places.)

2.—The Black’s nob was completely at Carter’s service, and the latter put in five tremendous facers again with his left hand. The Black, notwithstanding, bored in and got Carter against the ropes, but did no execution, when, after an awkward struggle in a close, Carter went down. (It was now ten to two against the man of colour.)

3.—The Black, at this early stage of the fight, seemed not only damaged, but rather shy, and he sparred cautiously to recover his wind. Carter again made the same successful use of his left hand, by planting three more hits upon the old place. A short rally took place, in which Blacky endeavoured to make a change in the appearance of things, but without effect, and he ultimately went down. The superiority of Carter appeared manifest in every round. In fact, the Black was dead beat, and when on his second’s knee called out for “brandy.”

4.—Carter hit short, but the Black gained nothing by it. In closing, the punishment which Carter served out to his opponent was tremendous in the extreme; he held the Black up with one arm, and with the other fibbed him so severely that he went down quite exhausted. The Black’s consequence as a first-rate miller was all gone. His fanciers now began to look rather blue, and found, too late, that their judgment had proved erroneous.

5.—The distressed state of the Black was conspicuous to all parties, and he left his second’s knee in a tottering state. He, however, endeavoured to make the best of it, and attacked Carter rather furiously, but the latter soon spoiled his intention, and again fibbed him down. (Five pounds to five shillings.)

6.—Carter, full of gaiety, smiled at the impotent efforts of his opponent, and punished him with the utmost _sang froid_. Blacky put in a body blow, but received such a staggerer in return that he was quite abroad, and at length went down.

7.—The left hand of Carter was again busy with the mug of his antagonist. However, the Black endeavoured to make something like a rally, but he displayed more of desperation than judgment, and paid dearly for his temerity by again going down. This was the best round in the fight.

8.—The nob of the Black, from the severe punishment he had received, now assumed a terrific aspect, and in his endeavour to plant a hit, Carter stopped it dexterously, and returned so severe a facer that Blacky’s pimple appeared to go round upon his shoulders, like the movement of a harlequin; he went reeling away like a drunken man, and fell.

9.—The Black reluctantly appeared at the mark, when Carter, as fresh as a daisy, added more dreadful left-handed hits to his already disfigured nob. In closing, both down, but Blacky undermost.

10.—It was almost up with the man of colour; he made a running hit and fell. Some disapprobation now manifested itself.

11.—The game of the Black, if he ever had any, was now all exhausted, and he went down from a mere push. It was thought rather currish.

12 and last.—The Black, in a state bordering on frenzy, endeavoured to follow Carter, but the latter punished him at every step, fibbed him terribly, and, in closing, both down, but Blacky undermost. So complete a finish in seventeen minutes and a half was scarcely to be expected, from the high milling qualities the Black was said to possess; and even the most knowing upon the subject offered to bet, previous to the fight, that it continued upwards of forty minutes.

REMARKS.—Blacky, from the above display, lost ground in the opinion of the amateurs; his strength was more prominent than any other pugilistic quality. He left the ring apparently much distressed in body and mind from the punishment he had experienced. Carter was in good condition and in high spirits, and disposed of his opponent in first-rate style, and positively retired from the contest without a scratch, excepting upon his back, which, it is said, occurred either from a bite or a pinch given him by the man of colour. Carter showed himself evidently improved as a scientific pugilist: there was nothing hurried in his manner of attack; he viewed his antagonist with much fortitude, and scarcely made a hit without doing material execution. He adopted the milling on the retreat system, and hit and got away with all the celerity of Richmond. Two Blacks he has thus completely vanquished; and it is generally considered to the above might be added a third(?). It must certainly be admitted that Carter gained a step or two on the pugilistic roll of fame from the above contest, and perhaps removed many doubts that hitherto existed respecting his pretensions as a first-rate boxer. An opinion was now entertained that he had only to look well to himself, and something higher was still within his reach.

Gregson now made a rather odd and suspicious match on behalf of Carter, which “Boxiana” calls a “NOUVELLE feature in the Prize Ring, namely, A MATCH AGAINST TIME!” This was, that Carter should beat Robinson within half an hour.

Carter, who had vanquished this sombre hero in seventeen minutes, laughed at this new experiment of his capabilities, and accepted the challenge without the slightest reflection. On Wednesday, June 26, 1816, at Coombe Warren, the above boxers met to decide this match, for twenty guineas a-side; and, notwithstanding the badness of the weather, the patrons of pugilism mustered strongly. Much sporting speculation occurred, and they both entered the ring in good spirits. Six to four on Carter. The latter was attended by Cribb and Harmer; Robinson had for his seconds Oliver and Richmond.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Carter, as in the last fight, immediately upon setting-to went quickly to work with his left hand and nobbed the Black in style. Robinson was not able to make any return, and he received four severe successive facers. Carter did as he pleased, hit and got away with much dexterity. Two minutes elapsed before the round was finished, when the man of colour went down.

2.—It seemed not to be the intention of Robinson to make any hits, but merely to prolong the fight. He sparred with the utmost caution, but he was not able to prevent Carter from nobbing him at almost every step. The man of colour, however, was induced to make a sort of rally, but he was at length hit down. This round lasted three minutes.

3.—Carter, with the utmost activity, put in six severe blows on the cheek of Robinson, and got cleanly away, without the least return. A close took place, when Carter got the Black’s head under his arm, and fibbed him so severely that he fell out of the ring, and Carter upon him.

4.—The fighting was all on the side of Carter: he planted hits with the utmost dexterity, and, had he not been fighting against time, any odds must have been laid upon him as to proving the conqueror. He again held Robinson up, and fibbed him till he went down.

5.—Carter kept hitting and getting away, till at length they closed, when he got Robinson’s head under his arm, and the man of colour, to prevent being fibbed, grasped tight hold of Carter’s hand; but the round was finished by Blacky’s going down.

6.—The left hand of Carter was again three times in succession in the Black’s face, without any return. Robinson kept cautiously sparring and drawing himself back; and those blows he attempted to make were out of all distance and lost their effect. Robinson was again sent down.

7.—It was astonishing to see with what ease and facility Carter made use of his left hand. He now put in with the utmost rapidity nine severe facers, making Robinson’s head dance again, and experiencing not the least return. In closing, they both went down, but the Black undermost.

8.—The superiority of Carter over his opponent was visible in every movement; he not only gave six more facers with the utmost dexterity, and put in a body blow, but most severely fibbed Robinson down. The Lancashire hero was much distressed.

9.—Carter again felt for the Black’s nob; but from the slippery state of the grass, he got off his balance and went down from a slight hit or trip, but he was up again in an instant.

10.—Notwithstanding the numerous severe facers Robinson had received, there was no confusion about him, and he was always ready to time. It appeared now that, if Carter won the battle, he must go in and do considerable execution, as the half hour was rapidly advancing, and the Black was not to be licked by merely nobbing him. Robinson endeavoured to make a change in his favour, by attacking Carter and following him up, but at length he was sent down.

11.—This was a tolerably good round, and the Black showed himself a different man altogether from what he appeared in his late combat with Carter. His mug seemed a little changed, and Carter kept repeating upon the punished places. Robinson went down from a hit.

12.—The Black set-to with much resolution, and seemed very unlike an almost finished man. His face was again severely milled, but it was very doubtful whether Carter had the best of this round. The Black was sent down.

13 and last.—Time was growing very short, and Carter to win must almost perform wonders. He again put in two nobbers, and some other hits, when Robinson fell down from a sort of slip, tumbling forwards between Carter’s legs. Carter immediately threw up both his arms, and declared the man of colour had dropped without a blow. The outer ring was instantly broken, and some confusion took place. “Foul, foul!” and “Fair, fair!” was loudly vociferated by both parties, and on all sides. Twenty-eight minutes and a half had expired. It was urged that Robinson had fell once before without a blow, which had not been noticed. Upon this termination some demur occurred; but it was decided by the umpires that Carter was entitled to the money, and it was given up to him accordingly.

REMARKS.—In the eighth round Carter was evidently distressed, and showed he was much out of condition. He had been living freely, and his milling capabilities must have experienced a drawback, by his having a very painful and inflamed leg. In fact, it was rather a surprise match, and the money hastily deposited on the part of Carter when he was not in the most temperate state of understanding. It was a ridiculous wager altogether, and such a man as Robinson appeared to be in this last fight with Carter, would require the tremendous finishing hits of a Cribb to beat the man of colour with anything like a certainty in thirty minutes. The face of Robinson, never an Adonis, was a little spoilt as to its former character, but the light was far from being taken out of him, and in the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth rounds he changed his mode, with an appearance of going to work in earnest. He is not to be vanquished by nobbing hits alone. Could Carter use his right hand in any manner to second his left, few men, it is urged, would be able to stand any length of time before him. He appeared not the least hurt from the conflict in which he had been so recently engaged; and Robinson also was in a wagon viewing the fight between Curtis and Lazarus, with all the indifference of a mere spectator.

The Lancashire and Carlisle friends of Carter now rallied round him, and he was at length matched with Oliver. In the metropolis Oliver was everything; and Carter, in opposition to him, only named with derision and contempt. But time, which proveth all things, thus narrates this milling event:—

This contest was decided on the estate of Sir James Maxwell, in an enclosed field of Mr. Johnson, inn-keeper (and within 150 yards of the blacksmith’s shop, so celebrated in the Lovers’ Cabinet for the dispatch of business), at Gretna Green, four miles from Longtown, and fourteen from Carlisle, on Friday, the 4th of October, 1816, for 100 guineas a-side, in a twenty-four feet roped ring, in the presence of 30,000 spectators. The sporting world was much interested, yet so confident as to the termination of the event, that three to one was considered as correct betting. Oliver had risen progressively into fame. Not so with his opponent: he was “anything but a good one.” During the day on which the fight took place the streets and houses of Carlisle and its vicinity were drained of the male population, and a horse, chaise, cart, or any sort of vehicle whatever, was not to be procured at any price. The fanciers of the metropolis, it seems, were not so numerous as usual upon great milling occasions, and a few of the “highest flight” only were recognized upon the ground. Mr. Jackson was not at Carlisle, and it was observed that the losing man was not the better for his absence. The concourse of people was so great that it was deemed necessary to form an outer rope ring, in order to prevent unpleasant consequences from the pressure of so vast a multitude. The fight had nearly been prevented, as officers, sent by George Blamire, Esq., the Mayor of Carlisle, and the Rev. Dr. Lowry and Dr. Heysham, two other magistrates, were on the look-out to bind the parties over to keep the peace.

Oliver arrived at the Bush Tavern, Carlisle, accompanied by Captain Barclay, on Wednesday morning, at eleven o’clock, and he had scarcely entered the room when the officers inquired for him. Some person, suspecting their errand, introduced them to the brother of Oliver, when Tom took the hint and quietly withdrew, not being known to them. At nineteen minutes before one the battle commenced. The umpires were the Marquis of Queensberry and Captain Barclay. Carter first entered the ring with his seconds, Painter and Harmer, and the usual defiance of the castor was exhibited by him. Oliver instantly followed with his assistants, Cribb and Cooper. On stripping, the condition of Oliver appeared equal to any one that ever entered the ring; but Carter, it was thought, might have been better. The ceremony of friendship was then performed, and ten to four was loudly vociferated upon Oliver.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The odds being so decidedly against Carter, the greatest anxiety was manifested by the spectators upon their setting-to, and the combatants seemed equally alive to the importance of obtaining the first advantage, by their deliberate mode of attack. Oliver endeavoured to plant a tremendous blow with his right hand, which Carter stopped in a scientific style, and returned a severe left-handed hit on the right eye of Oliver, that produced the claret in a twinkling. A good rally took place. Carter closed upon his adversary, fibbed him terribly, and ultimately threw him. Oliver bled profusely from his temple and his nose. It is impossible to describe the shouts of the populace upon Carter’s obtaining this superiority. It was like a salute of artillery. (The odds had completely vanished, and even betting was now the true feature of the ring.)

2.—This burst of applause seemed to operate much upon the feelings of Oliver, and he determined if possible to get the turn in his favour by going furiously to work. Carter, partial to the left hand mode, aimed at his opponent’s nob, which Oliver prevented, and fought his way into a rally. Considerable hammering took place, and Carter got his man on the ropes. Here the truth began to be told to the sceptics: the superiority of strength most completely manifested itself upon the side of Carter, who again threw his opponent. (Great shouting. It was all up with any more offering of three to one.)

3.—Oliver gave Carter a severe blow on the head, but the latter would not be stopped, and again bored his man to the ropes, punished him dreadfully, and brought him down, Oliver bleeding copiously.

4.—Oliver was now convinced that he had formed an erroneous opinion of the boxing powers of his antagonist. Carter turned out a better man in every point of view than he had expected, and was not to be disposed of in that easy manner which he had flattered himself must be the case, and in which his friends had so fatally confirmed the error. Several heavy blows passed between them, but to the advantage of Carter. The latter received a severe facer; but, notwithstanding, he drove his man to the ropes, and, in closing, both went down. The head of Oliver was much punished, and his back excoriated by Carter hugging him on the ropes. (Six to four upon Carter generally, and more in many places. It was at the close of this round that Carter first showed blood.)

5.—Oliver seemed at a loss how to cope, with any sort of success, against his scientific antagonist, and resorted to his game qualities of going in to smash this hitting and getting away boxer, if possible. Oliver was no stranger that Carter always preferred giving to taking punishment, and drew an inference that his opponent had some fears in this respect, and that to insure victory the fight must be taken out of him by close and determined attacks. Oliver, in consequence, felt severely in this round for Carter’s body, but the latter returned desperately on his opponent’s head. They were again struggling at the ropes, and both went down.

6.—Some heavy blows were exchanged in a rally, and Carter was floored at the ropes.

7.—Oliver was bleeding in all directions, and, in closing, went down.

8 to 20.—The description of these rounds would be superfluous. The gameness of Oliver, his manliness of boxing, and his determination to succeed, if possible, perfectly satisfied the most sanguine of his partizans, and at intervals he met with partial success; but, in justice to Carter it must be stated, that the advantages were decisively upon his side: he hit and got away with his usual _sang froid_; his right hand was also conspicuously effective, and, whenever it appeared expedient to finish the round, he closed at pleasure upon his adversary with the most eminent superiority. Oliver gained nothing in fighting for length; and when going in he was opposed with the most determined opposition. In truth, the spectators were convinced in the above rounds that the science, the strength, and smiling confidence of victory were on the side of Carter; and that his adversary had not only been most dreadfully punished, but quite abroad as to his usual system of tactics, throwing away a number of blows by repeatedly hitting short; while, on the contrary, the Lancashire hero did not exhibit any very prominent marks of severe milling, and was quite in possession of himself.

21.—In this round Oliver showed himself off in a conspicuous manner, and put in so tremendous a hit in the wind of Carter, that he measured his length on the ground instantaneously. It appeared, from its severity, a complete finisher. The friends of Oliver thought Carter would not be able to come to time, if at all; and the Lancastrians looked rather blue as to its ultimate effects. (The betting, notwithstanding, varied but little.)

22.—The expected change did not take place; although Carter appeared at the scratch very much distressed, and almost gaping for breath he contrived to get himself down in the best manner he was able. No blows passed in this round.

23.—Much the same as the preceding, but in struggling Oliver was thrown.

24.—Carter was now “himself again:” his wind had returned, and he resumed the contest in the most decisive style. Oliver, like a lion, rushed forward in the most gallant manner. The hitting, in a rally, was terrible; both the combatants seemed totally to disregard punishment. The fine game of Oliver was opposed by the bottom of Carter, and this essential quality toward victory in pugilists, so much doubted to be possessed in the latter, was now found not to be wanting in the Lancashire hero. Oliver’s head was disfigured, and Carter’s nob was a little altered from its originality. It was the most desperate round in the fight; the closing of it at the ropes was to the disadvantage of Oliver, and his friends were now satisfied he could not win.

25.—It was astonishing to witness the courage of Oliver; he appeared determined to conquer or perish in the attempt. One eye was completely in the dark, and the other was rapidly closing. His strength was also fast leaving him; nevertheless, he contested this round in the most manly manner. He was ultimately thrown, and Carter fell heavily upon him. (Ten to one upon Carter.)

26 to 32 and last.—The die was cast, and the brave Oliver, like heroes of old, could not control his fate. Nature had been pushed to the farthest extremity that the human frame could bear. Defeat seemed to operate so much upon his mind that he fought till his pulse was scarcely found to vibrate; and in the last six rounds, during which he had not the least shadow of a chance, he persevered till all recollection of the scene in which he had been so actively engaged had totally left him. In the thirty-second round he was taken out of the ring in a state of stupor, and completely deprived of vision. The swelled appearance of his head beggared all description; his body and back were shockingly lacerated all over from his struggling so much upon the ropes; and, in point of fact, much as fighting men may have suffered in former battles, the situation to which Oliver was reduced, it appears, exceeded them all. The battle lasted forty-six minutes. He was taken and put to bed at Longtown, four miles from the ring, and in consequence of the vast quantity of blood he had lost in the contest, added to his exhausted state, the surgeons who were called in to attend upon him deemed it dangerous that he should be bled.

REMARKS.—Oliver felt confident that he should prove the conqueror, and exerted every means in his power to insure victory. He came into the ring in high condition, weighing about twelve stone eight pounds; but the chance was completely against him, either at in or off fighting, excepting the twenty-first round. Oliver tried to beat Carter after the manner he had vanquished Painter, by determined in-fighting; but the left hand of Carter always met the head of his adversary before he got to his length, when Oliver, finding the great danger of this mode of attack, endeavoured to render it useless by throwing his head back to avoid the coming blow, at the same time it gave Carter a full opportunity of striking down with his right hand, which he never failed to do. It was always in the power of Carter to close upon his adversary, and bore him to the ropes whenever he thought proper. In short, there was no comparison between the combatants respecting scientific fighting; and the character of Oliver, as a good man, was more valued than his capabilities as a boxer considered. The high patronage, too, of Captain Barclay had dazzled the minds of the fancy—individual or cool judgment was out of the question, and three to one was betted without why or wherefore. Calculation was completely against such betting, and it was a sort of overwhelming preference. Too much prejudice had existed against Carter; and it was sneeringly observed that he was without game, at best a mere flipper with his left hand, and whenever he was placed against a good one he would soon be found out. Comment upon that head is now rendered unnecessary, as facts are stubborn things. A better or a braver man than his fallen opponent is not to be found upon the list of boxers; and, although defeated, he is entitled to the highest consideration of the sporting world. Carter weighed about thirteen stone seven pounds, smiled frequently during the fight, and treated the efforts of his adversary with the most perfect indifference. There was some cry about a foul blow, but the umpires did not notice it. Carter returned to Carlisle in the evening, and was seen walking about the streets with his friends. So much was Carter the object of pugilistic admiration at this place that, at the White Hart Inn, a subscription was proposed among several amateurs, that he should fight the Champion of England for 500 guineas. It was also observed, as Richmond was walking round the ring during the fight, that Carter had beat all the blacks. “No; all but one,” was the reply; when Richmond said he would fight Carter for 200 guineas. Great praise is due to Painter for the care and attention he paid to Carter during his training.

The backers of Carter presented him with fifty guineas in addition to the battle-money. Oliver and Carter, a few days after the fight, met at Hawick, and received each other in the style of true courage.

Carter’s pedestrian feats may here find a place. Pierce Egan says, “As a runner, the qualifications of Carter were far above mediocrity. He could run a mile in little more than five minutes; and out of fourteen races and walking matches, he won them all excepting two.

“In the spring of 1812 Carter ran a match against time, on Sunbury Common, when, to the astonishment of every one present, he performed two miles in a few seconds over eleven minutes without any training.

“Carter, from the celebrity he had gained through the performance of the above match, was backed for a considerable sum against Abraham Wood, of Lancashire, for two miles. The latter was to give Carter 100 yards; but his friends deemed it prudent to pay forfeit. However, a new match was made off-hand, condition not being considered. Wood was now to give 150 yards out of two miles. This race was decided on Saturday, the 26th of December, 1812, on the Lea Bridge Road, near London, Gregson acting as umpire for Carter, and Captain Hinton for Wood. They started at two o’clock, Carter having taken 150 yards in advance. Both of the racers seemed to fly, they got over the ground with such speed. When at the end of the first mile, Wood had gained upon Carter sixty yards, and in the next half mile Wood had made greater progress; but when within a quarter of a mile of the winning-post, he was within twenty yards of Carter. The latter had now recovered second wind, and ran the last quarter of a mile with speed at the rate of a mile in five minutes, and won by about six yards. It was even betting at starting, but Carter for choice.

“Carter had some other pretensions to public notice, independent of prize-fighting. He was a good dancer, and could perform the clog-hornpipe with considerable talent, and, after the manner of an expert clown, stand upon his head and drink off several glasses of ale in that position.”

The friends of the Lancashire hero, from the improved capabilities he had so recently displayed, were now anxious to produce a meeting between him and the champion. Much conversation in consequence took place, and even personal challenges passed between the above pugilists, but no deposit was put down to make a match. Cribb offered to fight any man in the kingdom for £1,000, and not less than £300; but Carter, it seems, could not be backed for either of those sums, therefore the match was off altogether. It ought, however, to be mentioned that the latter was ready to accommodate any man for £50; and, although no decision ever occurred respecting his claim to that enviable title, yet Carter assumed the appellation of champion from the following circumstance:—A bet of £200 a-side, £50 forfeit, was made between Sir William Maxwell and the Marquis of Queensberry, immediately after the defeat of Oliver by Carter, at Carlisle Races, October, 1816, challenging all England, the Marquis to produce a man to enter the lists against the latter at the above races in 1817. Twelve months having elapsed and no competitor making his appearance at the appointed place, the £50 was forfeited, and Carter received the same (it is said) at Dumfries.

In the newspapers our hero again publicly challenged anything alive in the shape of a man, adding that his friends were ready to back him, regardless of colour, observing “that blue, black, white, or yellow, would be equally acceptable to him.” In his printed handbills, at the Shrewsbury Races, 1817, he thus vain-gloriously described himself:—

“BOXING.—The art of self-defence will be scientifically displayed by Mr. John Carter (the Champion of England), Mr. Gregson, and others, at the Turf Inn, Shrewsbury, every race morning, precisely at eleven o’clock, and in a spacious booth on the race ground between each heat.

“⁂ Gregson, who is Carter’s trainer, is taking him down into the north of England to contend with Donnelly, the Irishman, at the ensuing Carlisle Races. Private lessons given.”

For three years Carter lived upon the fame of his victory over Oliver, travelling through the provinces, after the manner of more modern quack champions, exhibiting “the art,” and never ceasing to assert the falsehood that Cribb had refused to fight him, whereas Carter always limited his proposal, when pressed, to the stake of £50, a mere absurd subterfuge.

At length his career of boasting received an unexpected check. Cribb argued that his “boy,” Tom Spring (although beaten by Ned Painter in August, 1818), was good enough to lower the pretensions of “the Lancashire hero.” Carter’s friends made the match for £50 a-side, and a purse of £50 for the winner was added by the Pugilistic Club. Two to one was offered by the north countrymen. The battle was fought on Crawley Downs, May 4, 1819. The result will be found in the Life of SPRING, where the report does scant justice to the latter. The infatuation of Carter’s admirers found expression in the following letters addressed to _Bell’s Weekly Dispatch_:—

“_Carlisle, May 12, 1819._

“SIR,—

“You will oblige the Cumberland fancy by giving insertion to the following paragraph in your next paper.

“Your obedient servant,

“H. P.

“The gentlemen of the Cumberland fancy have held a meeting after reading an account of the battle between Spring and Carter contained in your paper, and from other sources of information, and were unanimously of opinion that Carter made a cross of the battle. They have, therefore, come to the resolution of withdrawing all support from him in future: they will not back him, even if he were matched to fight an orange boy. All bets upon the battle have been declared void in the North.”

This nonsense elicited the following reply:—

“SIR,—

“In reply to a letter, signed H. P., from the Cumberland fancy, which appeared in your journal of May 16, I shall briefly observe that the gentlemen who acted as umpires at the battle between Carter and Spring are well known as men of honour and integrity, and had they detected anything like a cross, would have immediately made such a circumstance public. The battle-money was paid without hesitation. The noble lord who backed Carter also discharged his bets upon demand; and no refusal has been made in the sporting world to pay, that has come within the writer’s knowledge.

“Respecting the fight, sir, it was most certainly a bad one—a pully-hauly encounter; in fact, it was nearly the same as the battle between Carter and Oliver, at Carlisle, but with this difference—the left hand of Carter was foiled, and Spring also proved the stronger man at the ropes. The Lancashire hero having thus lost the two only points for which he was distinguished, led to his defeat. Spring behaved like a man, and did not appear to have any hugging pretensions about him, had he not been dragged to the ropes. Carter was beaten against his will.

“In giving insertion to the above letter, to prevent any improper allusions going abroad, you will much oblige

“AN OLD SPORTSMAN.

“_Tattersall’s, Hyde Park Corner, May 28, 1819._”

There is a volume contained in this. Carter beat Oliver—despite the flowing account in “Boxiana,” written up by a person _not present_ at the battle—by hugging and squeezing his man, who was less in weight and stature than himself, upon the ropes, after the fashion of a recent American champion. Foiled in this by Spring’s length, steadiness, and left-handed skill, he was abroad. That he was beaten against his will, no impartial spectator could doubt.

Carter made his appearance, on the Friday after his battle with Spring, at Mr. Jackson’s rooms in Bond Street. His crest was lowered, his former high tone quite subdued, and he acknowledged, with some touches of grief, that he could not tell how he lost the battle. Thirty pounds were collected on the ground for him, including the donation of ten from his backer.

On losing his popularity, he left London for Ireland, in which his stay was rather short, when he returned to England accompanied by the Irish champion. A quarrel, however, took place between Carter and Donnelly, when the former followed the Irish champion to Dublin, opened a public-house, and challenged Dan. See the memoir of Donnelly in Chapter VII.

Carter, who arrived from Ireland on Tuesday, February 1, 1820, being anxious to make a match with Sutton, for 100 guineas a-side, previous to his again returning thither, called in at a sporting house in Oxenden Street, for the purpose of making his intention known, and on being admitted into a room where a private party were assembled, insulted several, and ultimately threw a glass of wine in the face of one of those present, part of which alighted on Tom Cribb. This insult was not to be borne by the champion, who, although rather the worse for the juice of the grape at the time, immediately grappled with Carter. It was an up and down contest, but the champion made such good use of his time that his opponent received a severe thrashing in the space of one minute, and begged in a piteous manner that Cribb might be taken away from him, or he should be killed.

Carter once more left London, sparring his way to Dublin, in which he was assisted by Reynolds and Sutton.

On his return a few months afterwards, being in company with Shelton at a sporting dinner at the Brown Bear, Bow Street, July 10, 1821, he spoke disparagingly of Shelton’s capabilities, when, after some discussion, £20 were posted for a fight instanter, and the result was that Shelton beat him to a stand-still in three rounds only. Carter afterwards challenged Jem Ward to fight for £100 a-side, but when the time came for making the match, was unable to raise that sum. In this dilemma he proposed to back himself for £50 a-side, and trust to fortune to get the money. This was refused by Ward; but, being hard pressed by Carter, who entreated him as a favour to oblige him, at length consented, and it was agreed they should fight for £50 a-side, on May 17, 1828, within one hundred miles of London, which came off at Shepperton Range, when Carter was defeated in sixteen rounds, occupying thirty-two minutes. (See Memoir of WARD, Chapter I., Period VI.)

Carter was next matched with Deaf Burke for £100 a-side, by whom he was defeated, at the Barge House, Woolwich, on the 8th of May, 1832, in eleven rounds, occupying twenty-five minutes. (See DEAF BURKE, _post_.)

Although he survived this defeat twelve years, it was his last appearance in the prize ring. He died at Thames Street, Manchester, May 27, 1844.

APPENDIX TO PERIOD V.

HARRY SUTTON, THE BLACK—1816–1819.

From the time of Molineaux no sable champion had achieved so great a name as Sutton, and that, too, in a brief period. A native of Baltimore, he ran his slavery and worked, with an industry unusual in niggers, as a corn-runner in the Deptford granaries. Led by curiosity to see two of his own colour, Robinson and Stephenson, display their tactics in the ring, he repaired to Coombe Wood, May 28, 1816. While here as a spectator, Sutton, who was a tall athletic man, was asked by a gentleman what he thought of meeting another black who had challenged for a purse to be given on the ground. Sutton, who was as brave a fellow as ever sported a black suit of nature’s livery, consented readily, and another “black job” was soon started. Richmond and Harmer seconded Sutton; Cropley and Paddington Jones taking the other black under their most especial care, who was inferior in every point of view—in height, strength, make, look, and age—to Sutton. The set-to was something new and amusing.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The long arms of Sutton looked formidable, and though he began in a hurry, Cropley’s black seemed equally eager to meet him. Such a term as science was not to be mentioned. It was slinging, wild hitting, dodging, and turning round, till at last they came to a violent hug, when much pummelling took place. They, however, broke away from this close embrace, and made a complete stand-still of it, looking at each other and panting for breath. Cropley’s black now folded his arms, nodded his head, and began to point his finger, laughing at his opponent. This so enraged Sutton that he rushed in and planted a chopping hit, which made Cropley’s beauty dance again. It was now a comic scene, and new tricks were introduced at every step. Sutton, in making a blow at his opponent’s nob, hit his cap off, and his bald pate appearing, the spectators were in roars of laughter; yet, notwithstanding the variety of ludicrous postures exhibited by these black Quixotes, some heavy milling took place. Four minutes and a half had passed, amid the most uproarious shouts and applause, when Sutton put an end to this singular round, grappled his opponent and brought him down.

2.—On setting-to some hornpipe steps were jigged by Cropley’s black. The arms of Sutton trembled astonishingly, and his frame seemed much agitated. He made use of the chopping blow, and whenever his distance proved correct, his hits were tremendous. Some few blows passed, when Cropley’s black was thrown.

3.—Cropley’s man did not seem to like it; and perhaps, had it not been for the charms of a purse, he would have bolted. In fact, he was no match for his opponent. He hopped about and hit at random. Sutton chopped at his opponent. Some few blows were exchanged, when Cropley’s black fell, and refused to come again. Thus finished this caricature on milling.

On June 4, 1816, at a benefit for Eales and Johnson at the Fives Court, Sutton mounted the stage to contend with the powerful Tom Oliver. Sutton appeared rather diffident. His sparring, however, was far from contemptible, and, as a novice, he achieved more than could have been expected. Oliver had very little the best of him, and it was observed that Tom took the gloves off first. George Cooper (the late competitor of Donnelly in Ireland, and who was reported to be dead) made his appearance and also had a set-to with Sutton. Cooper put in several heavy facers, and showed considerable science; but Sutton, no way dismayed, stood well up to him, and, in a sharp rally, returned some heavy hits and exchanged blows advantageously. Upon the whole, the new man of colour received much applause. Cooper, like Oliver, it was also remarked, took off the gloves first.

The milling qualities of Sutton being now better understood, he was matched with Robinson; and these men of colour met at Doncaster Races, September 25, 1816. The fight took place in a paddock (where each spectator was charged three shillings as the price of admission), in a twenty feet roped ring, for a subscription purse. Robinson, who had twice fought with Carter, and defeated Stephenson, Butcher, etc., was seconded by Crouch and Saunders, and, in consequence of his boxing notoriety, five to four was betted upon him, in the metropolis, and six to four upon his setting-to in the ring. Sutton was attended by Richmond and Harmer. At half past twelve the signal was given, and offensive operations commenced without farther ceremony. It appears in the first round that Robinson sustained so severe a hit from his opponent that it quite spoiled him as to any vigorous exertion afterwards. An appeal was made to the umpires upon this momentous point, on which the fate of the battle hung; but these rustic arbiters of milling, not ignorant of the precedents of Moulsey, or the practice at Coombe Warren, and not wishing to make a chancery suit of it, instantly ordered the fight to proceed. The long arms of Sutton not only took great liberties with the upper works of Robinson, but soon put the wind of the latter out of order, and ultimately made him measure his length upon the ground. The betting now rapidly changed, and Sutton became the favourite, with odds upon him. It was all up with Robinson, and during twenty-five rounds he had no opportunity of turning the battle in his favour; and in thirty-six minutes, after receiving a severe milling, he was compelled to acknowledge that he had had “enough!” It is but fair to state that he was out of condition, never had any training, was overturned in the coach, and entered the ring within a very few hours after his journey from London. But the knowing ones asserted Sutton could beat him at any time, and that he would soon look out for a customer much higher on the boxing list than ever Robinson stood. Sutton was scarcely hurt, and gave visible proof of the great improvement he had made. Sutton by the above battle gained little more than the honour of proving a conqueror.

From the capabilities displayed by Sutton in this fight he rose in the estimation of the patrons of scientific boxing, and was judged an able competitor for the game Ned Painter. A match was accordingly made between them, for 25 guineas a-side and a P. C. purse, and they entered the lists at Moulsey Hurst on July 23, 1817.

Painter at this time had been the victor in two battles, over Coyne, the Irishman, and Alexander, the gamekeeper; but he had two defeats, _per contra_, with Tom Oliver (then in his best day), and with the gigantic Shaw, the Life-guardsman, a defeat without disgrace. The betting on the day was six to four on Painter.

Painter showed himself near the ring sitting on a basket a considerable time before the Black appeared in sight. In fact, he was sent for by the Commander-in-chief.[31] Sutton at length came forward with his second and threw his hat in the ring, which was soon followed by his opponent performing the same act of defiance. During the time Painter was taking off his clothes Sutton never took his eyes off his person. Cribb and Harmer seconded Painter; Tom Oliver and Paddington Jones waited upon Sutton. The anxious moment had now arrived (ten minutes after one); the combatants and seconds shook hands, and the battle commenced. Both men appeared in good condition, but Painter looked somewhat thin. Five to four upon Sutton.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Some trifling sparring occurred. Sutton’s long arm stood out like a pole, and upon the whole his frame looked tremendous. Painter hit first, but not effectively, when they got to hammering each other, and arrived at the ropes. Here Ned fibbed his opponent severely, until the strength of Sutton enabled him to break away. The Black now returned to the attack impetuously, but without judgment, and got nobbed preciously for his fury. Painter went down from a slight hit or a slip.

2.—The men were now both upon their mettle, and the tremors of a first round had subsided. Notwithstanding the Black’s long arm the science of Painter prevailed to that extent upon Sutton’s upper works that he seemed to possess a body without a head. It was almost a question if he knew whether he was in or out of the ring. A desperate rally occurred, and, in closing, Painter endeavoured again to fib his opponent. The Black caught hold of his hand to avoid punishment, and ultimately Painter was down.

3.—It is impossible to describe the execution which took place on both sides during this round. If one was bold, the other was fearless: it was hit for hit, in the most finished style of boxing; in fact, it was truly tremendous, and the amateurs were now convinced that the man of colour possessed “devil” enough for anything. At length Painter planted a body blow with so much severity that the Black was missing in a twinkling, and seen gasping for breath on the ground. (The uproarious applause that took place was like a fire of artillery, the confusion of tongues immense. “That’s the way to win my boy!” and two to one all round the ring upon Painter.)

4.—It is true the Black was brought to the scratch, but his breath escaped from his lips like a pair of bellows in full blow. This was a trying round for both parties, and Painter seemed to have out-fought his strength. They almost tumbled against each other, so much were they exhausted, till they again got into determined milling. Here Painter gave Sutton such a tremendous pimpler that his head seemed to rotate on his shoulders with the rapid twirl of a Bologna. In closing, Painter exerted himself in fibbing his opponent; but Sutton resolutely disengaged himself and threw his adversary.

5.—Painter now appeared bleeding, and half a minute time was too short for the men to appear anything like themselves, so furiously had the battle raged in this early period of the fight. This round, however, was decidedly in favour of Painter, and he stopped the rashness of his opponent in a scientific manner. He gave Sutton three such heavy facers, that the nob of the Black did not seem to belong to him, and gallantly finished this round by sending him down. (The applause here was a tumult of joy, and in the ecstasy of the moment five to one was offered. It was now the expressed opinion that Ned would win the battle in a canter.)

6.—The fight must have been finished in this round, or at least he would have rendered it certain, had Painter possessed sufficient strength. The Black could scarcely leave his second’s knee, and had it not been for the skill of Tom Oliver he would not have been in time to meet his opponent at the scratch. They both stared at each other, and appeared fit for anything but milling. However, they went at it pell mell, and Painter received so sharp a blow on his left eye that the claret run down. The Black also got such a nobber that he was quite abroad, and moved his hands like a puppet pulled with strings. It was all chance work, and Painter went down.

7.—Painter again “faced” the Black, and had the best of the round, but he went down.

8.—The Black endeavoured to bore in, but he was stopped in fine style. Painter milled him in every direction, planted three facers with ease, and finished the round by levelling Sutton. (Great shouting.)

9.—Both extremely distressed; and notwithstanding the many nobbers the Black had received, all Painter’s work in point of appearance went for nothing. Sutton’s frontispiece seemed to defy all hitting. Painter was bored to the ropes, where, in struggling, both fell.

10.—Sutton floored his opponent by a tremendous hit in the chest. The partizans of Sutton here manifested their approbation.

11.—Painter’s exertions in this round were astonishing. He had it all his own way. He nobbed the Black so repeatedly that his arms were of no use to him, as he could not place himself in a position, and Sutton fell from exhaustion.

12.—Some blows were exchanged, materially to the advantage of Painter. His exertions, however, were more than his strength could support, and he ultimately went down.

13.—Sutton had been so much beaten about the head, that he seemed in a state of stupor, and “time” might have been vociferated in vain had not his attendant roused him into action. He was literally pushed forward to meet his opponent, when Painter kept paying away till he went down from weakness. Painter planted eight facers without return.

14 to 17.—In the first three rounds Painter went down; but in the last, notwithstanding his bad state of vision, he milled the Black so successfully that Sutton measured his length on the grass. (Loud shouting, and “Painter will yet win,” was frequently asserted.)

18.—In this distressed state a rally occurred, and Painter was floored.

19.—This was a most singular round: it was anybody’s battle. Both the men were dead beat. The Black turned away from Painter on his making a hit; and soon afterwards Painter turned from him, and went down. (Two to one on Sutton.)

20.—Painter not only made some good hits, but, in closing, he fibbed Sutton sharply, and dropped him.

21 to 23.—Painter was down in all these rounds, although he had the best of the hitting. He was distressed beyond description.

24.—Painter seemed to have revived a little, and made a desperate hit on the nose of Sutton that floored him upon his back, and his legs rebounded from the earth. It appeared a finisher, and he was got upon the knee of his second with considerable difficulty. (The odds now changed again in favour of Painter.)

25 to 31.—It was astonishing to witness the desperation with which many of these rounds were contested. Painter showed most science, but the Black’s strength was more than could be reduced, and the former was down almost every time from sheer exhaustion.

32 to 40 and last.—Painter was almost blind and destitute of strength, yet he contended up to the last moment for victory. He was so far gone, in some instances, that he almost tried to lie down; and it was owing to his extreme weakness that Sutton was enabled to recover his strength, and brought him the smiles of victory. It was strength alone that won it. It is due to Sutton to state that a fairer fighter never entered the ring; but it is more pleasure to assert that no prejudice was expressed as to his colour—impartiality was the order of the day. Painter was led out of the ring, while Sutton walked from the scene of action without his clothes. The battle lasted forty-eight minutes and a half. A liberal subscription was gathered for Painter by Mr. Jackson on the ground. He returned to Belcher’s in the evening, where the most considerate attention was paid to him. He experienced no body blows of consequence, but his head and arms were terribly beaten.

REMARKS.—Painter, although defeated, has not fallen in the estimation of his friends. His courage was equal to the task he had to accomplish. In point of science he was far superior to his opponent; but in strength he was materially deficient. It was a complete sporting fight, and the odds were continually changing. Two better men never had a meeting; and a more determined battle could not be witnessed. Sutton has raised himself in the opinion of the amateurs, and he is considered to have evinced as much pluck, if not more, than any man of colour that has yet exhibited. Though his exterior did not show much punishment, yet his cheeks had a “rainbow” appearance. He is not likely to remain long in a state of inactivity, and will certainly prove a desperate customer to any one who dares contend with him. His prodigious length of arm is of great advantage; and he is pronounced by the best informed upon this subject to be the hardest hitter on the present list of boxers. Sutton owed his success greatly to the management and prompt determination of his second, Tom Oliver. Painter never fought so well before. He stopped fifty blows at least with his right hand, and also punished Sutton severely about the body. Upon the whole, it was one of the evenest contended battles that had been viewed for a long time, until the last seven rounds, when, during some of these Painter strained every effort to turn the chance in his favour. What the human frame could perform towards obtaining conquest this determined boxer attempted. He actually fought till nature refused to move. So much regret was never expressed upon the defeat of any pugilist as upon this occasion, owing to Painter’s inoffensive disposition and respectful behaviour in society at all times.

The sporting amateurs of Norwich desiring a fight in their vicinity, had, it seems, subscribed the sum of £100, £80 to the winner and £20 to the losing man, and Painter having challenged Sutton, to a second trial, they were offered a premium to bring off the affair at Bungay Common, Suffolk, the day appointed being the 16th of December, 1817. The battle was truly tremendous, and after fifteen rounds, all fighting, in one hour and forty-two minutes, Sutton was carried from the ring. (_See_ PAINTER, _ante_ p. 79.)

The no-fight between Shelton and Oliver which took the fancy on a wild goose chase to Blindlow Heath and Copthorne, on the tempestuous 23rd of December, 1819, led to another black job for Massa Sutton. Kendrick, the black, had come down that day, determined, he said, to fight anybody, should there be a purse, after the “big affair,” and resolved, moreover, to have “a bit of beef for his Christmas dinner.” Fifteen guineas were collected, when Sutton, considering it an easy prize, offered himself for a game at “black and all black.” At three o’clock the men faced each other, Randall looking after Kendrick, and Jack Martin attending upon Sutton.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Kendrick hit short with his left hand, and delivered his right well home on Sutton’s head, but his hand was open and it did no mischief. Sutton rushed in, closed, and threw Kendrick a heavy fall.

2.—Sutton delivered a straight and well-directed blow with his left hand in Kendrick’s bread-basket, which made him cry “Hem!” and drove him back two yards. Sutton, going in to follow up his success, was met in the middle of the head, when a rally commenced. Some blows exchanged, and Kendrick was thrown. It was evident here Sutton was too strong for him.

3.—Sutton put in another left-handed doubler, and followed with his right on Kendrick’s eye, which floored him as if shot. Kendrick bled freely from his nose and mouth.

Nine other rounds were fought, in which Sutton had it all his own way, and Kendrick received some heavy blows and falls. In the twelfth round Sutton hit him with the left hand in the mark, and caught him on the head with the right as he was going down, which so knocked the wind and senses out of Kendrick that he could not be moved from his second’s knee. The fight lasted seventeen minutes. Sutton was scarcely marked, his condition being very superior to that of poor Kendrick, who was severely punished. A liberal subscription was made for him through the exertions of Mr. Jackson, and sympathy was expressed as it was his third defeat in succession, and he was “out of luck.”

REMARKS.—Kendrick’s weakness was visible early in the fight; but, without taking that into consideration, he could not in his best trim conquer Sutton. Though without a chance of winning the purse, he showed himself a game man. He received a tremendous hit on the right eye, and also complained of a severe stomacher, that puffed the wind out of his empty frame like a pair of bellows; Sutton also fell upon him heavily. A gentleman very humanely gave up an inside place, and rode outside a coach, in order that poor Kendrick might be brought to London comfortably and free of expense; he also paid other attentions to his wants. Several gentlemen proposed that Kendrick should be sent into training, and that they would back him against the Gas-light Man for 25 guineas a-side. With patronage and training, Kendrick, it was thought, might become as it were a new man.

Sutton, although he attended the Fives Court and every benefit and sparring match and prize fight, could not find a customer. His thirteen stone nine pounds, and six feet and half an inch in height, were too great odds for middle weights, and the big ones wanted larger figures than Harry could get backed for. He was, however, matched with Larkin, the guardsman, to fight on the 4th of November, 1819, and 20 guineas posted; but in this he was disappointed, for Larkin was ordered off by his colonel, and Sutton’s only consolation was the twenty yellow boys. Sutton now went on a sparring tour with Jack Carter through Lancashire and to Ireland, as may be seen in Carter’s life. As from this period Sutton merely appears as a sparring exhibitor, we here close his pugilistic career.

BILL ABBOT—1818–1832.

Bill Abbot, whose victories over Hares, Dolly Smith, the renowned Tom Oliver, and Phil. Sampson, give him a claim to a niche in the Walhalla of pugilism, was a Westminster lad and a disciple of Caleb Baldwin. He stood five feet eight inches, and weighed eleven stone seven pounds. His first battle of any note was with a man of the name of Jones, at Wimbledon Common, whom he defeated in good style.

Abbot next fought Dick Hares on Wimbledon Common, on June 16, 1818, after Randall and Burke had left the ring. Hares displayed his usual good fighting and game qualities; but he was compelled to surrender to Abbot. Hares was over-weighted.

Abbot was matched against Dolly Smith for twenty guineas a-side, and this battle took place near the Barge House, in Essex, on Tuesday, February 2, 1819, on which day the amateurs, heedless of rain, left the metropolis and mustered numerously on the ground. Mr. Soares was chosen umpire. Dolly was well known to the ring, from his combats with Hares, Scroggins, and Cannon, though these were all defeats. Abbot, from defeating Hares and Jones, was considered a rising boxer. At half past one Smith threw up his hat in the ring, accompanied by his seconds, Randall and Owen; and Abbot followed by Oliver and Shelton. There was also an outer ring. The ceremony of shaking hands took place, when the men set to. Five to four on Abbot.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The men appeared in good condition, Abbot the best. They were more cautious than was expected, and some long sparring occurred. If Smith had not hit first, Abbot, in all probability, would have remained on the defensive. Dolly, with his right hand, put in a sharp bodier, which, had it been a little higher, must have floored his opponent. Abbot returned short. Dolly hit and got away, when, after some exchanges, they closed. Smith went down, and the claret was seen on his right eye.

2.—The caution of Abbot astonished the amateurs. Dolly again hit and got away. Some blows were exchanged. In closing, Dolly again went down bleeding.

3.—Dolly meant to punish his opponent, and went to work with his right hand, but it was out of distance, and he was again on the ground.

4.—Dolly was too short to get at Abbot; he could not nob him, and was always compelled to hit first. They closed, and some sharp fibbing occurred, when both went down, Dolly undermost. (Six to four on Abbot; the confident betters roared out two to one.)

5.—The short arms of Dolly frequently failed in planting a blow. This was a tolerable round, and Smith received a severe hit that sent him staggering away, but he recovered himself. In closing, Dolly paid away, but went down bleeding copiously.

6.—Abbot made some feints, when, after a short round, Dolly was hit down. (Bravo, and loud shouting.)

7.—Dolly came quite fresh to the scratch, but he received a heavy body hit that floored him. (“Well done, Abbot!”)

8.—A sharp round, and both down.

9.—Both hit short. Long sparring. In closing, some fibbing occurred, when Dolly broke away. More sparring. Abbot hit short. In closing at the ropes, Abbot hit Dolly down. (Shouting, and “Bravo, Abbot!”)

10.—The expected smashing forte of Abbot was not seen, and he kept retreating till Dolly hit first, when he then let fly frequently to advantage. Both down.

11.—Dolly’s mug was painted in every direction, while Abbot had not received a scratch. Some sharp fibbing, and Dolly the worst of it, and down.

12.—Abbot never tried to take the lead, although he generally got the best of the round. He was the best at in-fighting; and Dolly now bled copiously, till both went down.

13.—Both down.

14.—Dolly gave a good bodier; and, after some hard hitting, both again down.

15.—Dolly put in a snorter that made Abbot’s pimple rattle again. (“Such another pretty Dolly,” roared out Tom Owen, “is not to be seen in the kingdom.”) After some sharp exchanges, Dolly was hit down on the right side of his head.

16.—The punishment on Dolly’s mug was conspicuous. Both down.

17.—The right eye of Dolly was nearly closed. Some sharp work in a close, but Dolly down. Thirty-three minutes.

18.—This was a good round, but the left hand of Dolly appeared of no use to him, while Abbot’s right seemed tied to his shoulder. The latter waited with the greatest patience for the attacks of Dolly, which did not at all times shield him from heavy blows on the side of his neck and one of his jaws. In closing, some severe fibbing occurred, when Dolly extricated himself with some talent. Two sharp counter-hits. Dolly received a facer which put him in a dancing attitude, and he performed some new steps without the aid of music; but he at length recovered himself, returned to the charge like a Waterloo trump, and made so formidable a stand that Abbot resorted to some long sparring. Dolly, however, got the worst of it, and was floored. (Shouting on both sides of the ring. Smith shared the applause with his opponent.)

19 to 24.—In some of these rounds, when Dolly was breaking away, Abbot made several chops at him, but without doing any material execution. In the last round Smith began to fight with both his hands, and the ear and neck of Abbot exhibited marks of heavy hitting. Both down.

25.—Dolly was cleanly hit down. (“Well done, my cabbage-cutter; that’s the way to finish it.”)

26.—The dose was repeated by Abbot, and the claret from Dolly’s mug was copious.

27 to 32.—Dolly never could effect any change. Abbot was patiently waiting every round for Smith. The head of the latter was terrific.

33.—Dolly had decidedly the best of this round. Both down.

34.—Smith was down; but the ground was in a most wretched slippery state. (A guinea to a shilling was offered, but this was thought more bravado than judgment.)

35 to 39.—Long sparring, and the partizans of Abbot roaring out for him to “go in,” “No, no,” says Owen; “he knows the advantage of keeping his distance better. D’ye mind me, he’s what I call a distance cove. By the Lord Mayor we shall win it now. Go along, my boy, with your left mauley, and his nob will be of no service to him.” In spite, however, of all the encouragement of his lively second, Dolly was ultimately floored.

40 to 69.—To detail the minutiæ of these rounds would be superfluous. Dolly at times made some sharp hits, but there was no alteration in his favour.

70 to 127.—The rain came down in torrents, but the mill went on with all the regularity of sunshine. Abbot showed nothing like a decisive fighter; and there was once or twice he did not like the nobbers he had received. Dolly, in the majority of these rounds, went down.

128 to 138 and last.—It appeared Dolly entertained an opinion that he could not lose it; and even after two hours and a quarter had passed, he nodded satisfactorily to his friends that his confidence had not deserted him. There was nothing interesting in the whole of these rounds to amateurs; and Dolly endeavoured to tire out his adversary by going down, but without effect, when he at last said he could fight no more. Two hours and fifty-five minutes had elapsed.

REMARKS.—Abbot is by no means a first-rate fighter, or he ought to have beat Dolly off-hand. He was all caution, and his strength enabled him to last the longest. He was very glad when Dolly said “No.” It was a most fatiguing fight; and, owing to the pitiless, pelting shower, and the amateurs having to stand up to their knees in mud, the ring was almost deserted before the fight was ended. It was only the out-and-outers that remained. To describe the pitiful appearance of the amateurs would have required the pencil of a Hogarth—they had not a dry thread about them. Abbot had scarcely a scratch upon his face; but was much distressed towards the end, and led out of the ring. Smith was put to bed at the Barge House. Little betting occurred. Owing to the bad state of the weather, no collection was made for Smith, but he had a benefit given to him, under the patronage of some spirited amateurs.

Abbot was defeated by West Country Dick in a turn-up on March 2, 1819. (See vol. i., pp. 478, 479.)

Abbot fought with a knight of the last, to make up a fourth battle, for a small purse, on Hounslow Heath, on Tuesday, June 1, 1819; it served the amateurs to laugh at. Abbot had been sacrificing too freely at the shrine of Bacchus either to stand upright or to make a hit, and the “translator of soles” seemed also to have too much respect for his hide to encounter even his reeling opponent. “Master Waxy” gave in upon his pins, after jumping about in the most ridiculous postures for twenty minutes, without having a mark to show.

The sporting world felt great disappointment on Friday, February 18, 1820, in consequence of the severe illness of Spring preventing the combat which had been fixed for the above day. The ring was formed on Epsom Downs, and at half past twelve o’clock Ben Burn threw his hat up, and loudly declared he was ready to fight Spring. (See _ante_, p. 9.) Richmond also came forward and asked if any gentleman present appeared on the part of Spring, but no answer was given. The man of colour told Burn not to be in any hurry, as a fight could be made up in the interim. A purse of twelve guineas was collected upon the ground, and Abbot entered the lists with a raw countryman from Streatham, who appeared anxious for milling honours. Abbot was seconded by the Guardsman and Hopping Ned; the “yokel” was attended by Richmond and Clark. At two o’clock the men set to.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Johnny Raw, who was quite a novice in the ring (in fact it was his first appearance), went to work pell mell; but the science and experience of Abbot gave him the best of it, and after a few hard blows he put in a hit upon the throat of the countryman that floored him like a shot. For the instant Johnny was quite senseless, and upon Richmond’s picking him up, he asked, “Who done that? What’s that for? Where am I?” Richmond, with a smile upon his mug, observed, “Why you are in the Court of Chancery; and, let me say, you are not the first man that has been bothered by its practice.”

2 to 4.—Abbot had the best of these rounds, and he explained to the countryman the term pepper.

5.—The clumsy hitting of Johnny Raw gave him a turn, and Abbot received a tremendous floorer; and, notwithstanding the chevying of the lads to daunt the countryman, it was seven to four in his favour.

6 to 30.—It was a sort of reciprocal milling during all the rounds; many hard blows passed between them. Abbot showed the first blood, and was also the worst punished.

31.—Abbot got his opponent at the ropes; but with all his endeavours to fib the poor countryman’s nob, he failed.

32 to 40 and last.—It was never exactly safe to Abbot till in this round, when he again floored Johnny by a tremendous blow on the throat. Johnny was now quite senseless, and all attempts to bring him up to time were useless. Water was thrown on his face; but Abbot was pronounced the conqueror after one hour and twenty minutes had elapsed. Abbot was by far the worst punished. On Johnny’s recovering his recollection, he observed, “Who done that? Dang it, have I been in the Court of Chancery again? I don’t like that place; it makes a body so stupid. But I am ready to take another turn.”

Abbot entered the lists with a sturdy navigator, at the close of Hampton Races, 1820, for a small subscription purse. Abbot was seconded by Purcell and Brown, and the navigator by Shelton and West Country Dick. It was a good battle, and the navigator proved himself a very troublesome, dangerous customer. He stood over Abbot, and was also very strong, game, and would not be denied; but the superior science of our hero enabled him to win it cleverly in forty-five minutes.

Abbot, in a turn-up in Harper’s Fields, Marylebone, on Monday, June 5, 1820, defeated a Birmingham man of the name of Bennyflood, for a small purse, in the course of a few minutes, without a scratch upon his face.

Abbot fought Pitman for £5 a-side and a small purse, on Wimbledon Common, immediately after Brown and Curtis had left the ring, on Monday, August 28, 1820. The former was seconded by Randall and Callus, and the latter by Bill Cropley and Joe Norton. This was a hammering fight for thirty minutes, occupying twenty-seven rounds. Pitman was a game man, and reminded the spectators of Pearce, denominated the Game Chicken, but it was only in appearance. Pitman was beat to a stand-still. Abbot retired from the contest with a slight scratch under his left eye, but received some ugly thumps upon his head.

We now come to Abbot’s most remarkable ring exploit. A dispute with Tom Oliver led to a hasty match, in which ten guineas a-side were posted; but it was thought absurd, and a forfeit on the part of Abbot fully expected. But time rolled on and the day fixed, Tuesday, November 6, 1821, came, with both men in the same mind; and the fancy received the intimation that Moulsey was the chosen _champ clos_. At one o’clock, Oliver, attended by Ben Burn and Bill Gibbons, threw in his hat; and shortly afterwards, Abbot, attended by Scroggins and Tom Jones, answered the signal of defiance. Seven to four, two to one, and in some instances three to one on Oliver were called out, without takers. The colours—dark blue for Oliver, light blue for Abbot—were tied to the stake, and the men stood up.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On shaking hands it was expected that Oliver would immediately go to work and spoil his opponent; but, instead of that, Oliver thought he had a mere plaything in opposition to him, and did nothing. Some attempts at hitting were made on both sides, but without effect, when Abbot ran in and Oliver held him in his arms and got him down. (Shouting for joy, and Oliver for any odds.)

2.—Abbot trembled very much on placing himself in attitude at the scratch. Oliver planted a slight nobber and got away. A pause. Abbot received another small taste, when he rushed in and pulled Tom down. (Shouting and laughing, “It can’t last long.”)

3.—Abbot still shaking, yet he tried to plant his right on Oliver’s nob, but the latter got away. Oliver hit short. In closing, Abbot hung on the ropes; but Oliver seemed wanting in strength to do execution. Abbot at length broke away and showed fight, till they both went down, Oliver uppermost. (Six to one, but no takers. “Oliver can’t lose it,” was the general expression round the ring.)

4.—Whether it was owing to the recollection of what Oliver had once been in the prize ring could alone be answered by Abbot himself, but his nervous trepidation was evident. Abbot, however, made a heavy right-handed hit on his opponent’s mouth which produced the claret. Some slight exchanges occurred, and, in a struggle for the throw, Oliver fell on Abbot in rather an awkward manner; but not wishing his opponent should entertain a bad opinion, Oliver said, “I beg your pardon; I could not help it.” “Book that,” said one of the time-keepers to the writer of this article, “as it serves to show the fancy it is a gentlemanly fight.”

5.—Oliver got away from a hit. A pause. “Go to work,” said Paddington Jones: “What are ye both about?” Abbot planted a bodier, and not a light one. Oliver gave a facer, and followed his opponent to the ropes, where they endeavoured to hold each other’s hands to prevent fibbing, when Abbot got down. Oliver seemed to smile with contempt on his adversary, as much as to say, “There was a time that such an opponent could not have stood before me for five minutes.”

6.—A scuffle, and both down. While Oliver was sitting on the knee of his second, the Gas, with a grin upon his mug, sarcastically observed, “Why this is a lark, ain’t it, Tom? Surely you don’t call this fighting.”

7.—Oliver got away, when Abbot, in following him, hit short and napt a facer in return. They followed each other to the ropes, when the wretched condition of Oliver was evident to all the ring, for instead of fibbing Abbot, he literally pushed him away, gasping for wind; but Tom was so much the favourite of the amateurs, that they were completely blind to his defects. Abbot went down, and the shouting was loud in Oliver’s behalf.

8.—Some little milling took place. Abbot was sent out of the ring, and Oliver fell from weakness. “The Sprig of Myrtle” stepped up to Abbot and told him it was all right. “We are sure to win it,” answered Scroggins.

9.—Oliver appeared to view Abbot in the light of a plaything; still his blows did not do any mischief. Abbot threw Oliver and fell heavily on him.

10.—Oliver threw his opponent right away from him. (Thunders of applause.) In fact, at every movement that Oliver made, either good or bad, he was cheered by the surrounding spectators.

11.—This round was decidedly in favour of Oliver. Abbot turned completely round from a hit, when Oliver took advantage of this circumstance, planted a nobber, and sent Abbot down. (The costermongers were now cheering to the echo, and Ned Turner offered £10 to £1, but no person would have it.)

12.—This was also a tidy round; Oliver best, but both down.

13.—If Oliver had gone up to the nob of Abbot he might have spoiled his “mitre;” but he was more intent on getting away from the blows of his opponent than punishing him. Abbot went down from a hit. (Loud shouting.) The time-keeper stated twenty-two minutes had elapsed, which floored the bets on time, that Oliver won it in twenty minutes.

14.—Abbot went sharply to work, and made a severe body hit. A pause. Oliver planted a header, smiling, but put down his hands as if tired. The right hand of Abbot, which went home on Oliver’s mouth, sent him staggering, and the claret flowed profusely. At the ropes a sharp struggle took place, when Oliver threw his opponent. (“Well done, Tom; go to work and finish it.” Oliver for any odds.)

15.—The right ear of Abbot appeared slightly tinged with blood; but in other respects the blows of Oliver had scarcely left a mark. Abbot was sent out of the ring.

16.—Oliver had the best of this round; and Abbot was again under the ropes.

17.—Oliver, instead of going to work, sparred away his time; but, in an exchange of blows, Abbot went down, and Oliver fell on him. (“Go along, Tommy; it will soon be over.”)

18.—The face of Oliver was the most punished, but he had the best of this round. In following his opponent he caught him at the ropes, when Abbot would have gone down, but Oliver held him up with one hand and fibbed him with the other till he was exhausted, when Tom dropped him. (A roar of artillery. Oliver for any odds.)

19.—On coming to the scratch the face of Abbot did not betray the severe punishment which might have been expected, which was a sufficient proof, as the flash term is, that Oliver could scarcely “hit a hole in a pound of butter.” Abbot tried to obtain a turn in his favour, and went boldly up to Oliver, but more passionately than collected; he, however, put in some severe hits, which did Oliver no good. The latter in return, hit Abbot down. (Great applause for Oliver.)

20.—If it had been any other boxer than Oliver, that is to say, not so old a favourite as Tom, the exertions of Abbot would not have been treated so slightly. He is a strong young man, not a novice in the prize ring, with a fist as hard as iron; and whenever he planted his right-handed hit, Oliver felt it, and more than once severely; yet the feelings of the amateurs were that Tom must win. After some exchanges, Abbot rushed in. Oliver stopped his opponent skilfully, and endeavoured to fib him as he went down at the ropes. (Lots of applause for Oliver.)

21.—In point of punishment, this was the worst round in the fight for Abbot. The latter went in right and left, but Oliver stopped his efforts, milled him, and, in struggling, threw him down so violently on his back that the claret gushed from his nose. (“It’s all your own now, Tom, to a certainty.”)

22.—Abbot made a hit, which Oliver stopped. The pause was now so long that Tom Jones roared out, “If you mean to fight, do, or I shall leave the ring.” A scuffle, and both down.

23.—Abbot planted a heavy right-handed hit on Oliver’s ribs, and was going to work in a sharp manner, when he received so straight a stopper on the throat that he went down in a twinkling. This was the first clean knock-down blow. (Oliver’s friends were quite elated, and the cheers were very loud.)

24.—Abbot showed that he was not destitute of science, and made some good stops. He also gave Oliver a facer, but ultimately went down. (Disapprobation. Indeed, Abbot did not appear to have many good wishers, except the Sprig of Myrtle, who often came to the ropes to cheer him up, as did also the Sprig’s father.)

25.—Oliver napt a facer, and appeared to get weak; but his friends were so sanguine that they would not have it for a moment that anything was the matter. Abbot fought well this round; but, on going down, Oliver fell severely on him.

26.—On setting-to, Randall exclaimed, “Tom, my dear fellow, don’t lose your fame; never be licked by such a man as Abbot. Only go to work, and you must win it easy.” Abbot seemed (if a man’s thoughts can be judged) as if a doubt existed in his mind about winning it, and retreated from Oliver. The latter held him up at the ropes, and kept fibbing him till he was exhausted, and dropped him as before. No favourite actor in a theatre ever received more applause than Oliver.

27.—Abbot, on putting up his hand, laughed, and planted a body hit. A long pause, the men looking at each other. This was one of Oliver’s great faults: instead of commencing fighting, Oliver was getting away from hits. Oliver went down from a slight hit, owing to the slippery state of the ring.

28.—Abbot rushed in to mill Oliver; but he got the worst of it, and napped a severe nobber that sent him down. (Tremendous shouting.) Abbot, on being placed on his second’s knee, dropped his head, and it was thought all was over.

29.—Abbot wanted to make this round as short as he could by going down, but Oliver caught him at the ropes and administered some little punishment. (“Bravo, Tom, you behave handsome.” Ben Burn offered twenty guineas to five, but of no avail.)

30.—This was a fine fighting round; some severe exchanges took place, and Abbot, at the close of the round, planted such a tremendous right-handed hit on Oliver’s ear that he went down like a shot. It was on the spot where Painter, Neat, and “the Gas” had done so much execution. Oliver seemed stunned: he was all abroad, and was lifted from the ground like a sack of sand. Randall, Sampson, Josh. Hudson, etc., with all their vociferation, could scarcely restore him to his senses to be in readiness to the call of “time.” It is impossible to describe the agitation of the ring, not on account of their losses—for there were scarce any takers—but the sorrow felt at witnessing this lamentable tie-up of a brave man. (Five to one against Oliver.)

31.—Oliver was brought to the scratch, but no sailor three sheets in the wind was half so groggy. Abbot went up to him like a bull dog, milled him in all directions, and floored him like a log. Hogarth’s pictures were fools to the mugs of the amateurs—the brave Oliver to be sent out of the ring by a “wooden man,” as Abbot had been previously termed.

32.—The old fanciers were deeply hurt in their minds at this reverse of fortune, and not a Westminster boy, or a costermonger, but almost felt for their “wipes” to dry up their moistened “ogles;” “but who can rule the uncertain chance of war?” Oliver put up his arms to avoid the punishment, and went down once more like a log of wood. (A guinea to a shilling, but it was of no use.) Oliver was in chancery, and completely at the mercy of his opponent; he was sent down by a push.

33 and last.—Oliver was brought up, but it was useless. He would not say “No.” Abbot went in and gave Oliver the _coup de grace_, and he measured his length, insensible to the call of time. The fight occupied fifty-three minutes and thirty-eight seconds.

REMARKS.—Not a man on the Hurst but lamented this sad finish of Tom Oliver, who once aspired to the championship. He was slow as a top, and nature deserted him. He was still brave in idea, but he did not possess strength or wind to second his wishes. Oliver treated Abbot too cheaply; in fact, he gave the battle away from this circumstance. The smashing of Oliver was all out of the question. He was no more like that Oliver who fought with Painter at Shepperton, “the Gas,” and Spring, than “I to Hercules.” It is true that the partiality of the ring towards an old favourite made them anxious that he should not lose his once high fame, and be licked by an outside boxer, and every movement that he made was construed in his favour. Oliver ought to have won; if he had gone in and fought first, he could hardly have lost. Abbot gave his head, and several opportunities occurred, but Tom played with the chance, laughed at his opponent, and held him too cheap. For the first four rounds Abbot trembled, and the name of Oliver seemed a terror to him. He, however, put in some hard hits, and had none of the worst of the fighting. Oliver was punished about the nob; while, on the contrary, his blows, although planted on the face of Abbot, did not appear to make an impression. Still the amateurs were all in favour of Oliver, as an old one, and thought he could not lose it. Abbot went down several times, and the word “cur” escaped from the lips of several of the spectators. This epithet arose more from ill-nature than the fact. Abbot, however, was frightened at first, or else he could have won it in a short time, from the bad condition of Oliver. Oliver was terribly beaten: he was some time before he recovered himself, and was able to leave the ring. Abbot then shook hands with Oliver. Sampson immediately threw up his hat in, the ring, and offered to fight Abbot for £25, £50, or £100.

A winning man does not want friends, and Abbot was immediately matched with Sampson for £50 a-side. On Tuesday, December 18, 1821, Moulsey Hurst was again the scene of attraction, and the day being extremely fine, a strong muster of the fancy assembled on the above spot. When the office was given to cross the water, the pressure of the crowd was so great, and the lads so eager to get upon the Hurst, that some of the boats were nearly upset, so many persons rushed into them, in spite of all the entreaties of the watermen. The large flat-bottomed ferry-boat, which conveys the horses and carriages across, capable of holding between four and five hundred persons, was so overladen with passengers that it was ten to one this motley group did not bathe in Old Father Thames; indeed, it was only prevented by the great exertions and skill of the waterman. The wind was so high as to drive this prime cargo of the fancy a considerable way down the river before they had any chance of landing, and then it was only accomplished by the principal part of the passengers wading up to their knees in water before they could sport a toe on the Hurst. On the return of this boat to the shore at Hampton, the rush of persons to obtain a place in it was equally violent, although the danger and folly of such conduct had been so recently witnessed. A first-rate swell, who was extremely eager to get on board, lost his foot, and went head over tip into the water, to the no small amusement of the crowd.

The Birmingham Youth was the favourite, six and seven to four, an idea being entertained that his good fighting would bring him through the piece, more especially as a report had gone forth that Abbot had trained under the auspices of “Mr. Lushington.” At a quarter past one Abbot appeared on the ground, with a blue bird’s eye round his neck, and threw his hat into the ring. His countenance indicated perfect confidence. He was attended by Spring and Shelton. The Birmingham Youth, followed by Randall and Tom Jones, also shied his “castor” with a confident air, with Randall’s colours, green, round his neck.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On stripping, the appearance of Abbot altogether reminded the spectators of Tom Cribb in his early fighting days: it was evident a little punishment would not reduce his strength. The Birmingham Youth was in excellent condition; indeed, he asserted he was never so well in his life before. On placing themselves in attitude some pause occurred; but they soon after rushed into a close, and from the eagerness displayed, no mischief took place, and they were both down.

2.—Abbot held his arms high in order to protect his nob from the handy-work of his opponent. This manœuvre had the desired effect, and the Birmingham Youth did not show off in his usual style. This round was similar to the first, nothing material. Sampson went down from a slight hit.

3.—Sampson on the look-out to plant, but the firm guard of Abbot was not to be broken. The latter put in a left-handed hit on the throat of Sampson that sent him staggering; he, however, returned to the charge, when a long pause ensued. Abbot rushed and administered some pepper. Sampson exchanged a hit or two, but went down. Abbot also fell from a slip. (The odds had now changed seven to four on Abbot.)

4.—This was a short round. After a struggle at the ropes, Abbot got his man down, and, in falling, his knees came heavily on the “Youth’s” body. (The Westminster division again chevying, offering two to one.)

5.—Abbot commenced fighting, and planted one or two heavy hits. The Birmingham Youth showed fight, but he went down from a blow in the middle of his head. (Loud shouting, and in the ecstasy of the moment the cabbage-plant heroes offered five to one “the Birmingham ware must soon be disposed of.”)

6.—Abbot went to work without delay, and the result was that Sampson received a hit on his face, and dropped on his knees. (“It’s all up; he’s going.” Two to one current betting.)

7 to 20.—To detail these rounds would be uninteresting. It is true that the Birmingham commenced several rounds well, but Abbot always finished them in his favour.

21 to 30.—In the twenty-seventh round it was so much in favour of Abbot, that a distinguished sporting man from Newmarket offered a guinea to a bottle of beer, but no taker appeared.

31 to 33.—Sampson did all he could to reduce the strength of his opponent, but in vain. He now and then put in a good nobber, but in general he napped it in return.

34.—Sampson was much distressed; but he came to the scratch like a man, and endeavoured to take the lead. Several of his friends near the ring told him “hit and get away.” Sampson was not unmindful of their advice, and evinced a knowledge of the art; but it was a matter of considerable surprise to the judges of milling that he did not administer pepper to the body of his opponent, which was left unprotected, as the principal aim of Abbot appeared to be in holding his guard very high to keep his knowledge-box safe, the nob in general of all his adversaries being the object of his attack. After some exchanges the Birmingham Youth received a blow near the temple which produced the claret profusely, and he fell on his knees. (Spring offered ten guineas to two on Abbot.)

35.—The countenance of Sampson appeared dejected; he nevertheless exerted himself to produce a change in his favour, although without effect. He was floored by a severe right-handed hit. (Loud cheering by the lads from the neighbourhood of the Abbey in favour of Abbot.)

36.—It was evident to every unbiassed spectator that Sampson could not win; and although some of his shifts were well planned, they did not in the least reduce the strength of Abbot. The Birmingham Youth was on the totter when he came to the scratch, yet Abbot did not commence fighting. Shelton said, “What are you shilly-shallying about? go right up to his head and win it.” Abbot followed his instructions without delay, and the result was, Sampson was floored. “I told you so,” cried Shelton; “another or two and the blunt will be in your pocket.”

37.—Sampson went down from a heavy blow on the side of his head. (“He can’t come again.”)

38.—The Birmingham Youth smiled on meeting his adversary, put in one or two nobbers, and made a struggle at the ropes. Sampson was again hit down. (“It’s all over.” Any odds.)

39.—Singular to remark, Sampson, as a last and desperate effort, made play, had the best of the round, and sent Abbot down. (Thunders of applause, and “Well done, Sampson.”)

40.—The punishment Sampson now received was sharp and severe. Abbot determined to put an end to the battle, showed fight the instant Sampson appeared at the scratch, and, with a right-handed blow in the middle of the nob, floored him. (Ten to one.)

41.—The Birmingham Youth scarcely put up his hands, when a severe blow repeated on the same place floored him a twinkling.

42.—Abbot now proved himself the better man, and grassed poor Sampson with ease.

43.—One must lose. A tremendous hit in the middle of Sampson’s head took all the fight out of him, and he measured his length on the ground. For a short period after time was called Sampson remained in a state of stupor; he, however, recovered, and, with the assistance of Randall, walked out of the ring. The mill lasted forty-seven minutes.

REMARKS.—If it was perceived that Abbot was only a half-bred one, yet it would take a good man and a heavy hitter to beat him. In but one round (the 39th) had Sampson the best of it, although he exerted himself to the utmost to obtain victory; indeed, after the second round it was decidedly in favour of Abbot. It is rather singular that, except with Dolly Smith, the Birmingham Youth has hitherto lost every battle; while, on the contrary, conquest has crowned the efforts of Abbot. The latter possesses a tolerable knowledge of the science, and left the ring with only a mark under his left eye. The Birmingham Youth was severely punished; but although he has proved so unfortunate, it is the general opinion of the fancy that, in all his battles, he has shown himself a game man, a lively, active fighter, and done everything in his power to win for his backers.

The battle had scarcely been over a minute, when the fancy were beat to a stand-still, except a few who endeavoured to bolt, but could not get away, from the effects of the “pitiless pelting storm.” Hundreds were seen scampering to get under the wagons to avoid the hail-stones, and flooring each other to obtain an inch of shelter. Lots looked like drowning rats, their clothes sticking to their bodies as if they had been pasted on; while a few of the “Corinthians” in post-chaises were laughing at the ludicrous scene, and blessing their happy stars for the comfort and advantages derived from the possession of “blunt.” At length the fancy rallied, showed game, and took their places to witness another battle.

Abbot did not refuse to meet the “John Bull fighter” when called upon, as appears by the following letter, addressed to the editor of the _Weekly Dispatch_.

“CHALLENGE TO JOSH. HUDSON.

“SIR,—

“In consequence of your challenge to me a few months ago, and my fight with Oliver being off, I now wish to inform you that I am ready to fight you once in eight weeks for 50 guineas a-side. If this meets your approbation, my friends will meet you at any time or place you may appoint, and make a deposit of £10 or £20 a-side.

“W. ABBOT.

“_5th July, 1822._”

These challenges, however, ended in smoke. At length Abbot was matched with Jem Ward, for £50 a-side, and they met, October 22, 1822. Jem had beaten Acton, and was fast rising into fame. The particulars of this cross will be found in the Memoir of Ward, opening the next Period.

Larkins, the Cambridge champion, was matched with Abbot for £35. The fight took place at Fidgett Hall, near Newmarket, on Monday, November 28, 1826. Abbot was here beaten in fourteen rounds, thirty-three minutes, with five to four betted upon him. From this time Abbot figures as a second and bottle holder, until 1832, when, a purse having been collected, he entered the ring with one Search, whom he disposed of in seven rounds, at Old Oak Common, on the 28th of June in that year. The career of Abbot has no further ring interest.

DAVID HUDSON, BROTHER OF THE RENOWNED “JOHN BULL FIGHTER”—1818–1827.

David Hudson, a younger brother of the renowned Josh., made his appearance about two years after his celebrated senior, namely, in July, 1818; Josh’s first battle with Jack Payne dating in 1816. He was a smart two-handed fighter, of the inconvenient middle weight and height, which is too much for the light ones, and not enough for the big ’uns, namely, ten stone ten pounds, and five feet seven inches and a half in height. He was born in Rotherhithe in 1798, and in 1817, when in his 19th year, defeated Pat. Connelly, a reputed good man. His first regular battle was with Richard West (West Country Dick), for 50 guineas a-side. It was the second fight following the defeat of Tom Oliver by Neat, of Bristol, at Rickmansworth, on Friday, July 10, 1818. Randall and Tom Jones were seconds to Dick; Painter and Hall for Hudson. Dick was the favourite, seven to four and two to one.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—This was a good round. The combatants soon closed, but broke away. A sharp rally succeeded, and Dick was thrown.

2.—Sharp fighting. Reciprocal nobbers. A smart rally, and both down.

3.—Dick put in two facers. Some exchanges, when, in struggling for the throw, in going down Hudson was uppermost.

4.—This was all in Dick’s favour. He planted some heavy hits; and both going down, they rolled over each other.

5.—Hudson’s ear was bleeding, and Dick threw him.

6.—This was an active round; and in the corner of the ring Hudson fibbed Dick till he fell out of the ropes, (Applause. “Bravo, Hudson.”)

7.—Both of them went to work, and some sharp exchanges occurred, till both down.

8.—This appeared a severe round, and Dick got a hit on his ribs and went down.

9.—When time was called, Dick tried to leave the knee of his second; but on getting up seemed as if bent double, and pointed to his ribs, when Hudson was declared the conqueror. This sudden termination of the fight electrified the amateurs, and the backers of Dick were chapfallen indeed. Great murmuring prevailed that “all was not right;” but Dick declared, that in falling against the stakes he had hurt his ribs so severely that he was not able to stand upright. The battle was over in fourteen minutes and five seconds.

David fought with Ballard for a trifling stake, on Wednesday, April 15, 1819, on Kennington Common. Purcell and West Country Dick seconded Hudson, and Ballard was waited upon by Holt and Hares. It was a most determined battle on both sides; and one hour and three-quarters had elapsed before Ballard was compelled to acknowledge himself defeated. He was punished severely. Hudson also did not escape without considerable beating. The science and game he displayed on this occasion gave him a lift among the amateurs.

After the battle between Turner and Cy. Davis at Wallingham Common, on Friday, June 18, 1819, there was an interval of upwards of an hour, during which time the ring was filled with amateurs, endeavouring to get up another contest between some of the “good ones.” Sutton offered to fight Carter, but the latter boxer pleaded want of “condition.” Hall was also called, Martin, etc., but objections were made, when at length Harry Holt threw up his hat, which was immediately answered by David Hudson. Randall and O’Donnell seconded Holt and Tom Owen and Josh. Hudson waited upon David. It was for a purse of 20 guineas. Holt was the favourite, five to four.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The game of Holt had been ascertained upon more than one occasion, and his character stood well as a “pretty, scientific boxer.” He was not very well, and had walked all the way from London down to the fight. Hudson, nothing else but a “good one,” was also out of condition; in fact, he had only been discharged a week from the doctor’s hands for the jaundice, and, on stripping, his frame had a yellow appearance. They set-to with much spirit, when Holt rather took the lead. It was all fighting, and Hudson was nobbed down.

2.—Reciprocal facers; sharp hitting, full of work; milling the order of the round. Both down, but Holt undermost. (“Bravo! this will be a good fight;” and the amateurs were much interested.)

3.—Holt stopped in fine style, and planted same heavy hits. Both down.

4.—Sparring. Both offering and eager to hit, but awake to each other’s intention, and dodging. This round was really a treat to the lovers of science. Holt was hit down in the corner of the ring. (Even betting.)

5.—More science was displayed, when Owen began to sing “Tol de rol,” and said it was all right; that Hudson, of his weight, was the best little man in the kingdom, and that he should have nothing to do but merely look on. Hudson took the lead, followed his opponent over the ring till Holt was hit down.

6 to 24.—To speak impartially, it would be almost impossible to say which had the best of the majority of these rounds. Holt repeatedly nobbed Hudson so severely that his head went back; but he still returned to the charge unconcerned. In the last round Holt got Hudson on the ropes, where the latter was hanging almost on the balance; but he threw up his arms and walked away, amidst the shouts of the ring. (“This is true courage,” exclaimed a Briton.)

29 to 49.—All these rounds were contested with the utmost determined resolution and science on both sides. But Hudson was now the favourite, and Tom Owen offered ten to one. He also placed the white topper on his head; but would not let his knee-string, which was loose, be tied, for fear it should change his luck.

50 to 64.—Holt continued as game as a pebble, and nobbed Hudson desperately; but he could not take the fight out of him. (The odds were now decidedly against Holt, and cries of “Take him away.”)

65 to 83.—Both of their nobs were terribly punished, particularly Holt; but he had not the slightest intention to resign, though persuaded so to do by his friends and backers. It was thought Holt had lost it, from going down without a blow. (“Never mind,” said Owen, “we’ll give them that in; we can’t lose it.”)

84 to 89 and last.—Holt continued to fight, but he could not stand up to receive the hitting of Hudson, and went down repeatedly; while, on the contrary, Hudson seemed to be getting fresher, and he often ran and jumped to get in at Holt. The latter would not give in, and he was taken out of the ring by the desire of a noble lord and other amateurs. It occupied an hour and three-quarters.

REMARKS.—This was a capital fight on both sides: the men covered themselves with pugilistic glory. Holt was rather too stale for his opponent; he had also some of his teeth dislodged. Hudson promises to be conspicuous in the ring: a better bit of stuff cannot be found. A handsome subscription was made for Holt.

Hudson had now got so greatly into favour with the amateurs that he was backed against the fearless Scroggins for 50 guineas a-side. The battle took place on Monday, March 13, 1820, at Dagenham Breach, Essex, about eleven miles from London.

The road exhibited much bustle about ten o’clock in the morning, and the distance being short, the amateurs arrived at the destined spot rather earlier than usual. However, owing to neglect somewhere, to the great chagrin of the fancy, Scroggins had not been made acquainted with the scene of action, and it was two to one whether he appeared at all. The “hardy hero,” somehow, at length reached the Ship and Shovel, and waived all impediments like a truly game man.

At half past one o’clock, Hudson, attended by his brother Josh. and Tom Owen, threw his hat up in the ring. Scroggins, followed by Oliver and Randall, repeated the token of defiance. The odds were both ways in the course of a few minutes; and, from the remembrance of what Scroggins had once been, the old fanciers rather took the latter for choice. Tom Owen, to give an air of importance to his _protégé_, graced the ring with his hair curled and powdered, to the no small merriment of the multitude.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On stripping, the fine condition of Hudson astonished the spectators, and to give him a showy appearance, he sported silk stockings. Scroggins did not look well; but it was observed he was not so bad as had been represented. The combatants sparred for upwards of two minutes, when Scroggins let fly with his left hand, slightly touching his opponent’s eye. In attempting to make another hit, Hudson got away. More sparring. Scroggins now went to work in his usual heavy style, and drove Hudson to the ropes, when, after some exchanges, Hudson went down, receiving a heavy hit on his ear. (The shouting was loud; and “Well done, my old boy, you can’t lose it. The stale one for £100.”)

2.—Hudson did not wish to be idle, and went up to his man and fought with him, when a rally ensued, in which Scroggins had rather the best of it. The men separated, and Hudson put in a severe facer that brought the claret. In struggling, both went down.

3.—The men were on their mettle, and fighting was the order of this round. Scroggins received a jobber in the front of his nob; but he returned to the charge with vigour, till he went down from a slight hit. (“Go along, Davy! a young one against an old one any time.”)

4.—Scroggins received a sharp hit in the body; he, nevertheless, went boldly in to his opponent, and put in three nobbers. In struggling for the throw, Hudson undermost. (“Bravo, Scroggy!”)

5.—The face of Scroggins was much pinked, and one of his eyes rather damaged. Some good exchanges, till Scroggins was undermost. (Shouting for Hudson.)

6.—Hudson stopped the hits of his adversary well, and went again to the nobbing system till both down.

7.—This was a terrible round. It was all fighting; and the struggle at the ropes was desperate in the extreme, till Scroggins found himself on the ground, undermost. The applause on both sides was liberally dealt out, and the combatants were pronounced good men all round the ring.

8.—Scroggins began to pipe, and symptoms of a worn out constitution could not be concealed from his adversary. The advantages of youth were evident to every spectator, and Scroggins went down.

9.—Well contested on both sides; but although Scroggins repeatedly hit his opponent in the face, he did no damage to him. Both down.

10.—In this round a faint ray of the original quality of Scroggins was conspicuous: he put in a severe hit under Hudson’s right ear, and also bored him down. (Six to four was, however, offered on the latter.)

11.—Sharp exchanges; but Scroggins went down so weak that Tom Owen offered four to one.

12 to 15.—Scroggins had rather the best of some of these rounds, but never the best of the battle. He, however, threw Hudson over the ropes.

16 to 18.—The first of these was the sharpest round in the fight. The men exchanged hits like game cocks, struggled for the throw at the ropes, broke away, fought at the ropes again, till both down.

19 to 23.—It was evident the once terrific Scroggins was gone by; his milling period was over. He took like a glutton of the first appetite, but could not give as heretofore. (Six to one was current against him.)

24 to 28.—In some of these rounds Hudson held up his opponent, and punished him down. (Owen, in the exultation of the moment, offered ten to one, and said he should go home, as his man did not want any more seconding.)

29 to 33.—In the last round Scroggins turned his head away from the severe punishment he had received, and went down.

34 and last.—Scroggins attempted to hit, but it was all up, as he was quite exhausted. Forty minutes and three seconds had elapsed. Hudson had scarcely a scratch.

REMARKS.—It is a standing proverb among good judges that youth must be served, and a clearer demonstration of the proposition was never witnessed in the P.R. The constitution of Scroggins was gone, and no training could restore it. It is, however, singular to remark, that a knock-down blow did not occur throughout the fight. Hudson, gay as a lark, confident, and a boxer that can stay a good while, is not a hard hitter. In Scroggins’s day a different tale must have been told; but his once terrible mode of hitting had left him, and, as a boxer, he was a shadow of his former self. It is, however, but common justice to state that Scroggins never exerted himself upon any occasion more to win than he did in contending against the young one. His gluttony astonished all present.

Hudson and Scroggins meeting at Chelmsford Races, on Thursday, July 27, 1820, the amateurs made a subscription purse of £20. It was suggested by the seconds that Hudson and Scroggins should divide the purse; but the latter boxer refused, saying, he would win if he could. It was a sharp, good fight; but Scroggins, being very much out of condition, was again defeated in twenty-five minutes.

Hudson had risen so high in the estimation of the amateurs, that he was backed against Jack Martin; nay, more, his friends said that he must win, and nothing else. This battle came off at Moulsey Hurst, October 24, 1820. Martin had beaten David’s brother Josh. the year previous. The event proved that Davy’s backers were too confident; it was soon seen he was overmatched, and he was signally defeated. (See vol. i., p. 406.)

On Thursday, January 11, 1821, David Hudson and Green fought in a barn at Chelmsford, at eleven o’clock at night, for £10 a-side. This fight had been a long time “hatching up,” particularly on the part of Green’s[32] friends, and, from every appearance, he had been in training on the sly; while Hudson was never in such bad condition before.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Green soon let fly with his right hand, which Hudson stopped with his left. He then went to work till Green was floored.

2.—A determined rally, in which Hudson met his adversary well, till Green was again down.

3.—Cautious sparring. Green, however, went in without ceremony and napt two muzzlers, right and left, for his temerity. The claret appeared in profusion, and Green again down.

4 to 7.—The men were now extremely weak. Hudson received a tremendous hit on his right eye, and he was blind for a few seconds, having lost the sight of his left eye since he fought with Martin. (“Go along, Green, it’s all your own; you can’t lose it;” and five to four offered.)

8.—Hudson’s right hand made a dent on Green’s side; and with his left Davy put in such a conker that not only produced the claret in profusion, but he was quite abroad, and went down. These “Pepper Alley” touches brought it to even betting, and Hudson for choice.

9 to 13.—The pepper-box was again administered by Hudson, who caught Green under his right arm, and with his left he fibbed him so severely that Green called out “Foul,” and said he would not fight any longer. The umpires were appealed to, and decided Hudson’s conduct to be fair, and “a bit of good truth.”

14.—Green, determined to try every move on the board, went sharply to work, but Hudson stopped his efforts with the utmost ease. (Seven to four on Hudson, but no takers.)

15 to 17.—Davy came to the scratch as fresh as his out-and-out badger, and hit Green all to pieces. By way of finishing the round, if not the fight, he cross-buttocked his opponent so severely that it was twenty to one he did not come again. Green said he would not fight any more while sitting upon the knee of his second. Hudson then went up to Green and shook hands with him, observing at the same time, “You are not half so good a man as I expected, from the chaffing there has been about you; nevertheless, I will give you half a guinea.” The friends of Green thought he could have won the fight if it had been in a ring; but Hudson’s backers were so confident of his success, that they immediately put down £50 to £80 for Davy to fight him in a ring in any part of Essex. The partisans of Green wished it to take place in the same ring as Oliver and Spring. This money was drawn, to the great disappointment of Hudson’s party. The Essex friends of the latter offered to back him at any time for £100. The battle lasted forty-five minutes.

One Jack Steadman, a big one, and a good fighter, was beat off-hand by David, to the astonishment of the spectators; Steadman standing over “little David” like another Goliah of Gath, and weighing thirteen stone.

David now became a publican at Chelmsford, where his house was well frequented by sporting men. In February, 1820, we find him exhibiting sparring, having taken the Chelmsford Theatre for the purpose.

Hudson’s old antagonist, Green, seems to have by no means been convinced by his first defeat, and, after much cavilling, a second match was made for 50 guineas, which came off, by desire of the London patrons of Davy, at Old Marsh Gate, Essex, about eleven miles of turnpike from town, on Tuesday, the 27th of February, 1821. Hudson having made Chelmsford his place of residence, and a bit of a favourite in that part of the world among the sporting men, they were anxious that he should again exhibit. He was backed by Mr. Thomas Belcher, of the Castle Tavern. It was reported Hudson was upwards of twelve stone, having increased so much during his training. This operated against him in the opinion of the amateurs. At one o’clock Hudson, dressed in a white great coat, appeared, and threw his hat into the ring, attended by Oliver and his brother Josh. Green shortly afterwards entered the ropes, with Randall and Martin. The “President of the Daffies”[33] was appointed the time-keeper. Five to four on Hudson.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On stripping, Green appeared in the highest state of condition, but it was thought that Hudson was much too fat. The combatants, on placing themselves in attitude, stood looking at each other’s eyes for upwards of four minutes, without making the least offer to hit. Green made a trifling offer to put in a blow, when Hudson got away, and they dodged each other over the ring till they made another complete stand-still. Green made a hit, but Hudson parried it. Both the men seemed under orders, that is to say, not to go to work too quickly. Green got away neatly; and Hudson also stopped a severe left-handed hit of Green’s. The latter then put in a body blow, when David returned. The battle had now commenced. Green put in a facer, when Davy stood to no repairs, and tried to slaughter his opponent, till they got into a struggle, when they both went down side by side. (Loud shouting from the “over-the-water boys,” the Chelmsford fanciers, and the Jews, who all united in backing Davy for anything.) This round occupied nearly fifteen minutes.

2.—This round was altogether short. They both complimented each other upon the nob _sans cérémonie_, and “Pepper Alley” was the feature, till Green went down undermost. (Six to four on Hudson.) The mouth of Davy showed claret.

3.—Not quite so fast as before, and some little science necessary. Hudson undermost.

4.—The claret was now running from the cheek of Green. Both combatants appeared a little distressed. In struggling, Hudson was again undermost. These were two tie rounds; but some of the spectators thought Green had the best of them.

5.—Hudson took the lead gaily. Some severe exchanges took place, when Green was hit down. (Loud shouting, “Davy, repeat that, and it’s all safe to you.”)

6.—Hudson got away well, and nobbed Green, who followed him. Some heavy blows passed between them till both down.

7.—This round spoilt Green. The latter, with good courage, gave hit for hit with his opponent; but Davy, in finishing the round, had the best of the blows, threw Green, and fell so heavily upon him that the claret gushed from his nose, the shock was so violent. (The East-enders were now uproarious, and two and three to one were offered on Davy.)

8.—David fell on Green again.

9.—Almost the same, as well as the best of the hitting.

10.—It was really a capital fight, and Green fought like a trump. He could not, however, change the battle in his favour. Hudson undermost.

11.—Green experienced another dreadful fall. (Four to one against him current.)

12.—Hudson now endeavoured to take the fight out of Green, and planted four facers in succession that Green went staggering from the hits; he, nevertheless, made several returns, till both down. (Five to one.)

13, 14.—In the first round a most determined rally; but in the second Green was hit down on his knee. (“You can’t lose it, Davy.”)

15.—Hudson fell heavily on Green, and nearly knocked the wind out of him. (“It’s all up.” Any odds.)

16.—The nob of Green was now terribly punished, and the left side of his throat much swelled. He was quite abroad, hit open-handed, and went down exhausted. (“Go along, Davy; it will be over in another round.”)

17.—Green repeatedly jobbed Hudson in the face; but none of the blows were to be seen—they did not leave a mark. As Green was falling from a hit, Hudson caught him in the face with a right-handed blow that almost sent him to sleep.

18.—“Look here,” said Oliver, “my man has not a mark upon his face.” Green came up to the scratch much distressed. He, however, fought like a man; and at the ropes Hudson again fell upon him. The claret was running down in profusion.

19.—Green still showed fight, and put in several facers. Hudson went away staggering from one of them; but the latter followed Green up so hard and fast that he could not keep his legs, and went down. (The poundage was here offered, but no takers. “Take him away; he has no chance.”)

20 and last.—Green behaved like a man, and he stood up and fought in a rally till he went down quite done up. When time was called he could not come to the scratch, and Hudson was proclaimed the conqueror. It was over in forty minutes.

REMARKS.—Davy, either fat or lean, out or in condition, is not to be beaten easily. A strong novice must not attempt it; and a good commoner will be puzzled, and most likely lose in the trial. There is a great deal of gaiety about Hudson’s fighting: he will always be with his man. He has a good notion of throwing, and also of finishing a round. Green was not destitute of courage, and it was not a little milling that took the fight out of him. He endeavoured to win while a chance remained; in fact, till he could fight no longer; but he is too slow for Hudson. It was an excellent battle, and the amateurs expressed themselves well satisfied. One of Hudson’s eyes is defective since he fought with Martin, which operates as a great drawback to his execution, particularly in judging his distances; but nothing can abate his courage. Both the Hudsons stand so high in the opinion of the amateurs as out-and-out bottom men, that they are designated the “John Bull” boxers. They increase in flesh rather too fast; and, from being “light ones” when they first appeared in the prize ring, they are now termed “Big Chaps.”

This was Dav. Hudson’s last victory. We find it noted, incidentally, in the remarks on the above fight that the sight of one of David’s eyes was defective. Under these circumstances, it was indeed unfortunate to match him against the “Streatham Youth,” Ned Neale. It is true that Ned’s wonderful fighting qualities were then comparatively unknown. He had defeated Deaf Davis (a slow man, but a hard hitter), one Bill Cribb (called “the Brighton Champion”), and Miller (the “Pea-soup Gardener”); but these, as well as Bill Hall, were looked upon as mere stale men or “roughs.” The defeat of Hudson (September 23, 1823), on the appropriately named Blindlow Heath, will be found in the Memoir of NED NEALE, Period VI., Chapter V.

David’s last appearance in the prize ring was with an Irishman, Mike Larkins,[34] who had beaten Simon Byrne in Ireland, in 1825. The battle took place at Bulphen Farm, Essex, May 8, 1827, when “One-eyed Davy” was defeated in twenty-eight fast rounds, occupying twenty minutes. David, in his latter days, assisted “brother Josh.” at Leadenhall; and when the latter died, in Milton Street, Finsbury, in October, 1835, David lost his best friend. He was already in ill health, and survived his brother but six weeks, his death taking place November 27, 1835, in the London Hospital.

PERIOD VI.—1824–1835. FROM THE RETIREMENT OF TOM SPRING TO THE APPEARANCE OF BENDIGO.