CHAPTER V.

NED NEALE (“THE STREATHAM YOUTH”)—1822–1831.

In the memoir of the redoubtable Tom Sayers, in our third volume, will be found a few remarks on the persistency with which Hibernian reporters and newspaper scribes, old and new, claim an Irish origin for fighting heroes, naval, military, and pugilistic. Ned Neale furnishes another instance of this assuming proclivity. Indeed, at the time of Neale’s appearance, the talented editor of _Bell’s Life in London_, Vincent George Dowling (himself of Irish descent), and Pierce Egan, were the recognised reporters of every important ring encounter—the clever but eccentric George Kent, who for twenty years had been its most active chronicler, having previously gone to his rest in the churchyard of Saint Paul’s, Covent Garden. The _Bell’s Life_ and _Dispatch_ accordingly prefixed a “big O” to the name of our hero, and plentifully larded their reports of Neale’s doings with Hibernian humour, misspelling his name “O’Neil,” until, in a letter to _Bell’s Life_, signing himself “Ned Neale, the Streatham Youth,” the young aspirant disclosed his parentage and place of birth, depriving “ould” Pierce’s rhodomontade of its applicability and point.

Ned Neale first saw the light in the pleasant village of Streatham, in Surrey, on the 22nd of March, 1805, of humble but respectable parents. His youth, it may be remarked, was passed in a period when the ring had for its patrons noblemen, gentlemen, and sportsmen, and among its professors Gully, the Belchers, Randall, Cribb, and Spring. At an early age he was in the employ of Mr. Sant, an eminent brewer near Wandsworth, and a staunch patron of the ring. Neale often stated that the first battle he witnessed was the second fight between Martin and Turner, at Crawley, on the 5th of June, 1821, and from that moment felt convinced that he “could do something in that way” himself. That he was not mistaken, his career, as here recorded, will bear witness.

Neale now placed himself under Harry Holt, and by glove practice with that accomplished tactician soon became a proficient in the use of both hands.

His patron, Mr. Sant, gratified his desire to figure in the “24–foot” by backing him for £20 a-side against Deaf Davis, a well-known veteran, a game man, and a hard hitter. The battle came off at the Barge House, Essex, opposite Woolwich Warren, on the 21st of May, 1822, Neale being then in his eighteenth year. The odds were seven to four against “the youth,” as he was booked to lose the battle by the knowing ones. Neale was seconded by Harry Holt and Paddington Jones, while Davis had the skilful seconding of Ned Turner and Dick Curtis. The contemporary report, which is brief, remarks of this battle, that it was “a rattling mill for the first forty minutes,” prolonged for another hour by Davis’s “manœuvring and going down,” without even getting a turn in his favour. In the “remarks” we are told “Neale proved himself a good hitter, a steady boxer, and one who can take without flinching; we shall no doubt hear more of him by-and-by. His youth and good condition carried him through triumphantly.” We may here note that in “Fistiana,” by a typographical error, the battle is set down as for “£100” and lasting “20 minutes.” It should read “100 minutes and £20 a-side.”

The ordeal passed, Ned did not long stand idle. After Brighton Races, on the 21st July, 1822, a purse was subscribed, and the announcement being made to the London pugilists, some of whom were exhibiting their skill in the booths on Lewes Downs, Peter Crawley proposed that Neale should offer himself to “any countryman on the ground.” One Bill Cribb, a brick-maker, who held among his companions the title of the Brighton champion, and known as an exhibitor at the Fives Court, accepted the challenge. Neale was seconded by Peter Crawley and Peter Warren, Cribb by Belasco and Massa Kendrick (the man of colour). No time was lost, and the men at once began.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The Brighton man looked hard and muscular. He at once went to work right and left, but was short, from his opponent’s activity. Neale nobbed his man prettily, but Cribb returned in a rally, with a sounding body blow. “Well done, Brighton.” Neale stopped prettily, and in closing sent his man to grass.

2.—Neale, after a feint or two, stopped a right-hander and sent in one, two, cleverly, got away, and repeated the pepper. Cribb stood it gamely, like his namesake, but he could not get home well. In the close Cribb got Neale under.

3.—Cribb’s dial much battered, but he took it cheerfully and tried to lead off. Neale again gave him a postman’s double knock on the middle of the head that sent him back into his corner. He, however fought his way out, but slipped down.

4, 5, 6, 7.—Similar to the third round, except that in the last Neale hit Cribb clean off his legs. Two to one offered.

8.—Cribb could not keep Neale’s fist from his face, yet he fought game till his strength failed, and he got down anyhow.

9.—Neale set aside the efforts of his opponent with ease and coolness. Cribb could not keep him out, and was again down.

10.—The Brighton man, still game, was up determinedly, and showed fight, getting in a slovenly crack or two in a rally until punished down.

11, and last.—Cribb, without a shadow of a chance, bored in; Neale caught his head under his left arm and fibbed him severely, until he broke away quite groggy. Neale sent him down, and he was deaf to “time.” Over in fifteen minutes.

REMARKS.—Neale out-fought his man at all points. It is clear no yokel must meddle with the Streatham youth. Hickman, the Gasman, held the watch, the ring was well kept, and the subscribers declared themselves well pleased with the short but sharp battle. Neale was without a mark on the face.

Three days after, on the 3rd of August, 1822, Neale being at Lewes Races, and a purse being declared, Miller, a London pugilist, known by the odd sobriquet of “The Pea-soup Gardener,” offered himself. Young Ned, “to keep his hand in,” accepted the challenge. Neale on this occasion was waited on by his late opponent, the Brighton champion, and Peter Warren—Miller by young Belasco and a friend. The fight was a fiasco. Pierce Egan says, “The _pea-soup_ cove was made _broth_ of in the first round.” The affair went on for six more rounds, when Miller gave up the battle, saying “he would fight any man of his weight.” Over in seven minutes.

This little provincial practice brought Neale forward, and his next appearance was on the London stage, with Hall, of Birmingham, as his opponent. Hall had just distinguished himself by defeating the once-famous Phil Sampson, of whom more anon. The affair came off at Wimbledon, on Tuesday, November 26th, 1822, Hall being the favourite at six to four, and much money was laid out by backers of Hall from the “Hardware Village.”

The road exhibited a good sprinkling of the fancy, particularly the milling coves. Martin, Randall, Shelton, Spring, Oliver, Abbot, Lenney, Brown, Hickman, Stockman, Carter, A. Belasco, Ned Turner, Scroggins, Barlow, Dolly Smith, Spencer, &c., assisted in keeping a good ring. This fight was announced to be on the square, and “lots of blunt dropped on it.”

At one o’clock Hall, accompanied by Josh Hudson and Jack Carter, attempted to throw his nob-cover into the ring, but the wind prevented it reaching the ropes. Neale soon followed, attended by Harry Holt and Paddington Jones. Hall was favourite, at six to four.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Hall displayed a fine frame, and his features reminded some spectators of Tom Reynolds, while others declared his figure to resemble the formidable “Gasman” (Tom Hickman). Neale also looked well, but was by no means in as good condition. Hall began, breaking ground and working round, but by no means cleverly. Neale faced him, armed at all points. Hall went in with a half-arm hit, and Neale, stepping back, caught him a flush left-hander on the nose. Hall staggered, and as Neale went in, slipped down. The Streathamites uproarious. “Take him back to Brummagem! he can’t stop, except with his head!”

2.—Hall tried to shake off the last facer. He sparred, shifted ground, and stopped one or two blows neatly. Neale forced the fighting and the men closed. Hall got hold of Neale to fib, but the Streatham Youth extricated himself, not, however, before Hall had damaged his nose and mouth by a round hit or two. Neale went down.

3.—Neale planted a heavy blow on Hall’s ear. Hall bored in and got hold of Neale, hugging him on the ropes, and trying to fib, but not effectively. Neale got down. Hall was evidently the stronger man, but the worse fighter.

4.—Hall rushed in, got a nobber, but closed and threw Neale heavily. Cheers from the hardware lads.

5.—The Streatham Youth met his man boldly and coolly, hit him twice on the head, avoiding the return, and after a sharp rally sent Hall down. The odds changed, Neale for choice, 5 to 4.

6.—Hall fought rather wild—Neale steady, and active in defence. Again Neale visited Hall’s right eye heavily, raising a large mouse. A severe struggle. Hall fell through the ropes. 6 to 4 on Neale.

7.—Hall was piping. He did not like to commence milling, for fear of consequences. “You have been a soldier,” said Josh. “Fighting is their business; why don’t you fight?” A good round was the result, and Neale was thrown.

8.—It was “bellows to mend” with Hall; and Neale was none the better for the throws. A long pause, both combatants sparring for breath. “How is your wind?” said Josh. “Like a horse,” was the reply from Hall. “Then go to work, instead of standing as independent as a gemman,” Hudson said. Neale thrown in a struggle.

9, 10, 11, 12.—More struggling at the ropes than effective blows, although lots of fibbing took place.

13.—Neale took the lead in this round, nobbed Hall over the ring, till he went down. A Babel shout of applause.

14.—Neale showed weakness; in closing he went down.

15.—The Streatham Youth went to work in this round, put in three facers without any return, and got Hall down.

16, 17, 18.—Hall showed plenty of game, but he could not fight; in close quarters he had generally the best of it.

19.—Neale, on setting-to, floored Hall; but the latter instantly jumped up, put up his hands, and said, “Oh, that’s nothing at all.”

20.—Hall came to the scratch in a shaky state, when Neale planted some sharp hits, till he went down.

21.—Hall ran Neale off his legs furiously.

22, 23.—Struggling at the ropes, till both down.

24.—Hall was so distressed that on setting-to he caught hold of Neale’s hands, when both went down in a struggle; not a blow passed between them.

25.—It was evident a round or two more must finish the fight. Much execution had been done on both sides; Neale was severely peppered about the body; he slipped down.

26, and last.—The Birmingham man getting bad in struggling at the ropes to obtain the throw he received so severe a fall on his head, that his seconds had great difficulty in lifting him from the ground. When time was called, Hall was insensible, and remained in a state of stupor for more than five minutes.

REMARKS.—It was a manly fight, and the heavy hits of Neale did considerable execution. Had he been well, it was thought that Neale could have won the battle in twenty instead of thirty minutes. Hall knows little about scientific fighting; he is a random hitter, a strong wrestler, can pull and haul a man about, and does not want for game. Opposed to science and straight hitting he is lost.

Ned was now the conqueror in four succeeding battles, when Dav Hudson[48] (brother to the John Bull fighter) was matched against him for £40 a-side. The fight took place on Tuesday, September 23rd, 1823, on Blindlow Heath, in Sussex, twenty-four miles from London. Early in the morning the fancy were in motion, the amateurs grumbling at the long distance they were compelled to go to witness a minor fight, when Wimbledon Common would have answered the purpose. Hudson came on the ground in first-rate style—a barouche and four—accompanied by a mob of East-Enders. At one o’clock Dav threw his hat into the ring, followed by his seconds, Tom Owen and Josh Hudson. Neale, a few minutes afterwards, waited upon by Harry Holt and Jem Ward, repeated the token of defiance. Six to four on Neale.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Hudson appeared too fat, while Neale looked as fine as a star. David hit short; Neale also got away from a second blow. In fact, it was a long scientific round, displaying considerable boxing skill on both sides, but no work; ultimately a few blows were exchanged, yet no mischief done. In struggling for the throw, Hudson was undermost.

2.—This was a similar round. Neale would not fight first, and showed great agility in getting away. It was evident in this early stage of the fight that Hudson was too short for his opponent; the loss of his eye was also a great drawback. Hudson often missed his adversary, hitting at random, owing to the above defect. In closing, both down.

3, 4, 5, 6.—Neale received two severe cross-buttocks, but he did not appear to be injured by them.

7, 8, 9, 10.—Tedious to the spectator and of no interest to the reader.

11.—This round reminded the amateurs what Davy was in his prime. He went to work boldly, when a sharp rally commenced, but the length of Neale gave him the best of it. Hudson received a tremendous hit on the left ear; the claret flowed profusely.

12.—This was a similar round, but Neale went down. Great shouting from the East Enders. “Go it, my little Davy!”

13.—Neale received another cross-buttock. David was the better wrestler.

14, 15, 16.—Hudson was terribly distressed. He was too puffy. Neale was piping a little. Neale was thrown by Hudson, alighting, like a tumbler, on his hands. Seven to four on the Streatham Youth.

17, 18, 19, 20.—The truth must be told. Stale cocks must give way to younger birds. Davy had been a publican, and the ill effects of the waste-butt here began to peep. Davy thought himself now as good a man as when he beat Harry Holt, disposed of West Country Dick, and defeated Scroggins. That his courage was equally good cannot be denied. But nature will not be played tricks with; and training cannot make a young man, though it may help an old one. In all the above rounds Hudson could not reduce the strength of his adversary.

21, 22.—Hudson’s face had received pepper, and Neale’s mug was rather flushed. Each seemed to be anxious to throw the other, and closed quickly.

23.—Neale received a severe hit between his eyes, that made him wink again. He, however, recovered, and made the best of a rally, till, in closing, both went down. Two to one on Neale.

24.—Hudson fought like a Hudson. For high, if not the highest, courage in the Prize Ring, no boxers stand better than Dav and Josh. But a man cannot have his cake who has eaten it. This was another sharp rally, but terribly to the disadvantage of Hudson, who was nearly finished.

25, and last.—Neale, as the term goes, had “got” David, and by a very severe hit on the latter’s throat, floored him. On Josh picking up his brother he said he should not fight any more—a proper and humane decision. It was over in fifty-three minutes. Josh carried David in his arms out of the ring. A collection to the amount of six pounds was made for Hudson.

REMARKS.—It was by no means the smashing fight which had been previously anticipated. If Neale had gone to work, instead of being over-cautious, he must have won it off-hand.

Neale, by his repeated conquests, now became an interesting object to the fancy, and was matched by his friends against the scientific Aby Belasco for £50 a-side.

To render the battle more interesting to the sporting world, the day was fixed by mutual consent for the 7th of January, 1824, to fight in the same ring with Langan and Spring. Both the combatants were in attendance on the ground ready to fight at Worcester; but owing to the lateness of the hour when the championship battle was decided, the fight unavoidably was postponed. This untoward circumstance was a great mortification both to Belasco and Neale.

A short time after this disappointment Ned accepted a challenge from Tom Gaynor, at the Fives Court, at the benefit of Tom Reynolds, for £50 a-side. This battle was decided at Shepperton Range, on Thursday, the 24th of May, 1824.

The ring was soon made, and at one o’clock Gaynor appeared, and attempted to throw his hat into the ring, but the wind prevented its arrival; one of his seconds, Callas, picked it up and threw it into the ropes, Gaynor’s other second being Ben Burn. Neale soon followed, and dropped his castor gently into the ring, under the protection of Josh. Hudson and Harry Holt. The colours were tied to the stakes—dark blue for Neale, and blue mixed with yellow for Tom Gaynor. Two to one on Neale, but numerous bets that the latter did not win in an hour.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Neale was quite up to the mark in point of condition and confidence, and really looked a formidable man. Gaynor was well enough, but by comparison the greatest novice must have taken Neale for choice. Gaynor, who was a carpenter by trade, had been represented as a tremendous hitter, which accounts for the caution observed by Neale. Five minutes passed without a blow being struck, Neale being prepared at all points. Neale made several good stops, and at length put in a rum one on the body of his opponent. (“That’s the way, Ned!”) Feints, offers, retreating, occurred till nine minutes were past, when Neale gave Gaynor a sharp left-hander on the side of his nob. An exchange took place, and in closing, both down, Gaynor undermost.

2.—Gaynor’s left eye was touched a little, and after a number of movements, similar to the first round, Gaynor rushed in and threw Neale.

3.—Twenty minutes had elapsed and no claret seen, so great was the caution on both sides. This round was concluded by Neale putting in two or three clumsy thumps, Gaynor falling forward and Neale upon him.

4–10.—Neale had not a mark about him, but Gaynor had napped punishment, and went down tired.

11.—Gaynor, it was said, went down without a blow; but the umpire was appealed to, when he gave it as his opinion that blows having been struck in the round it was not foul.

12–17.—Neale had got his man to a certainty, and Gaynor was all the worse for the fighting. The nob of the carpenter was damaged, and his upper lip cut through. In one of the above rounds a singular circumstance occurred. The men struggled at the ropes, got through them, and fought a good round outside in the open. One hour and three minutes.

18–21 and last.—Gaynor had not a shadow of chance in any of these rounds, and at the conclusion of the last, in which Gaynor was thrown heavily, Cribb stepped into the middle of the ring and said, “I will give in for Gaynor.”

REMARKS.—It is impossible to please all parties—in fact, a man cannot at all times please himself. Many persons called the above battle a bad fight, others said it was not half a good one, while, on the contrary, several excellent judges insisted that Neale had won it “cleverly.” It is true Neale obtained the victory without a scratch, and that alone is saying something for a man, after fighting one hour and ten minutes with a boxer who had been called “a tremendous hitter.” Neale was determined not to give a chance away—he meant winning and nothing else; his backers we are sure will not find fault with him on that account. We never saw the Streatham Youth so cautious before. At all events Neale has won all his battles, and it will take a good man indeed to make him say, “No;” indeed, the Streatham Youth asserts the word “no” is not to be found in his spelling-book.[49]

Neale had now risen so high in the estimation of the patrons of boxing that he was backed without hesitation by his friends for £100 a-side against Edward Baldwin (White-headed Bob). The battle was fixed for Monday, July 26th, 1824. The bill of fare at Shepperton [three fights] was rather inviting to the fancy, or, as the professionals belonging to another stage phrase it, “a good draw.” There was accordingly an immense attendance of all classes at Shepperton. At the appointed hour Neale was there, and threw his hat into the ring. Baldwin soon after arrived in the carriage of his backer (Mr. Hayne). But, alas! it was but the shadow of the stalwart White-headed Bob of a few months previous. His complexion, as old Caleb Baldwin facetiously remarked, might have earned him the name of “White-faced Bob.” Imprudent indulgence, late hours, loose associates, women, and wine had prostrated him; and his “Pea-green” backer, alighting from his drag, said, “Bob’s health is such he can’t fight with anything like a chance; so, as I don’t want to creep out, or to expose a brave fellow to defeat, I now declare Neale entitled to the stakes as a forfeit.” And thus ended round the first, by the transference of a cool hundred to the pocket of the Streatham Youth, without even holding up his hands.

In a few weeks, the medicos having doctored the White-headed one sound in wind and limb, a new match was made for £100 a-side; the day fixed was the 19th of October, 1824, and a field contiguous to Virginia Water selected as the _champ clos_. A goodly muster of the Corinthian order, as “the Upper Ten” were then designated, surrounded the lists. Baldwin endeavoured to throw his hat into the ring, but the wind prevented its falling within the ropes. He was seconded by no meaner men than the champions, Tom Cribb and Tom Spring. The castor of Neale arrived at its proper destination, and both men were loudly greeted. Harry Holt and Jem Ward attended upon the Streatham Youth. The colours were tied to the stakes—blue bird’s-eye for Neale, and crimson for Baldwin. Five to four had been previously betted upon Neale; even betting, however, was about the thing—the Streatham Youth for choice.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—So eager were the men to begin that they were both in attitude before the umpires were chosen. This deficiency was soon remedied, and both on the look-out for an opening. The frame of Baldwin was muscular and fine: Neale also had a robust appearance. Both shy, cautious, and nothing like work. Feints on both sides, shifts, stops, and no go. “Are you afraid, Bob?” from a voice in the crowd. Baldwin made a good stop with his left. Counter-hitting; a slight shade of the claret appeared on the right side of Neale’s nose. A long pause; both ready, but no opening; at length an exchange of blows took place, Baldwin retreating to the ropes; Neale in the struggle for the throw showed most strength, and the White-headed one was thrown. This round occupied nearly seven minutes.

2.—The ear of Neale looked red; Bob attempted to do “summat,” but missed. Neale planted a clean facer, but he napped one in turn. Both were now busy, but Baldwin was again undermost.

3.—Neale took the lead in this round in gay style; he gave a facer so hard and sharp that Bob’s pimple shook again; indeed, he was upon the stagger from its severity. Ned repeated the dose twice with success; and over Bob’s left eye appeared a cut. Neale ran in to do execution, but Bob put up his left hand, and bobbed his head away to avoid punishment. In the struggle both down, Neale undermost. (A shout for Baldwin.)

4.—This was a gallant round. Baldwin planted a severe hit on the middle of the Streatham lad’s face; the claret ran down in streams. Counter-hits and good work. Neale was thrown.

5.—Bob was now advised to fight first, but he did not take the hint. Caution again the order of the day. (Here Cribb mimicked the attitudes of Harry Holt, who was eloquently advising his man.) Bob retreated, and Neale hit him on the back as he was going down.

6.—Nothing; of no use to either side.

7, 8.—Not effective; Bob was a difficult man to be got at. Both down.

9–12.—Bob napped a rum one on his body which made him twist. In the eleventh cries of “foul” occurred; Neale was in the act of hitting as his opponent was going down. It was not intentional. Bob went down in a close at the last round covered with claret.

13.—The superiority of Neale was evident; he nobbed Bob successfully; and at the ropes the White-nobbed one went down exhausted.

14.—The left peeper of the Streathamite was considerably damaged; and his friends were alarmed lest it should soon be dark. Neale obtained a point towards victory in this round; he threw Baldwin heavily, and fell upon him.

15.—This was a hotly contested round, and both men did their best. Bob proved himself a much better man than Neale had anticipated; giving and taking were prominent, but the round finished in favour of Neale, who threw Bob on his head.

16.—A good rally, but Bob appeared to be at a loss in sharp attacks; out-fighting should have been his game. The faces of the combatants exhibited severe punishment. Both down. Serious faces all round the ring and great doubts who had the best of it. The truth was, at this period of the fight, it was almost anybody’s battle, though Neale hit swiftest and straightest.

17, 18, 19, 20, 21.—All these rounds were fought manfully; and Neale satisfied all his backers that he was nothing else but a game man. He was severely punished, but his courage was so high that he never flinched. The friends of Bob still thought he might win it. The Streatham Youth gave Bob such a severe cross-buttock that the latter showed visible symptoms of bellows to mend; yet a tolerably good judge cried out, “Bob will win this battle!”

22.—Six to four was offered freely at the conclusion of this round. The nob of Bob was at the service of his opponent, and in getting him down Neale rolled over his man.

23.—Severe counter-hitting, Neale undermost in the fall. The Streatham lad appeared rather weak, yet his eye was full of fire.

24.—“It is a capital fight,” was the general cry; and the hard hitting and gaiety displayed by Neale gave his friends confidence that he would last too long for Bob. Neale went down on his opponent.

25.—This was a severe round, and considerable execution was done on both sides. More than an hour had elapsed, yet bettors were shy as to the event. Neale went down rather exhausted.

26.—Spring whispered to Baldwin to fight first—to lead off with his left hand, and it would be “all right.” Bob tried it, but Neale got away, hit him in retreating; in closing Bob was thrown.

27.—Counter-hits effective, but nothing to anybody but the combatants; “lookers on” will find fault at times. Neale slipped down by the force of his blow, which missed the object intended.

28.—In this round Bob seemed to be recovering his wind a little, and endeavoured to take the lead. A rally; but Bob did not appear to advantage in close fighting. Neale down, and Bob with him.

29.—The right hand of the Streatham Youth felt for the face of his antagonist three times in succession. Bob went down weak.

30.—Neale napped a smart one on his nose, which produced the claret; he was anxious to return the compliment, and in attacking Bob, the latter attempted to retreat, but fell.

31.—Ward, who was the bottle-holder, thought it prudent to give Neale a small taste of brandy, which had the desired effect. This was a milling round on both sides, until both measured their lengths upon the turf.

32.—Neale put in a sharp body blow, which almost doubled up poor Bob. The latter, at times, appeared a little abroad, and Neale took advantage of every opening that offered itself. The Streathamite had the worst of the throw, and Bob fell upon him.

33.—Neale now proved himself to be the more effective boxer; he hit and followed Bob till he went down at the ropes. Neale could not stop himself in the act of delivering, and cries of “foul” were repeated.

34.—Bob was getting very weak, and went down from a slight hit.

35.—The story was nearly told; without an accident, it was almost a certainty Bob must lose it. The latter fell on his face.

36.—Neale planted three successive facers, and by way of a climax, threw White-headed Bob. Three to one.

37.—Baldwin was so weak that he almost laid down. “Take him away!”

38.—Short but sweet to Neale; the stakes nearly in his hands; he hit Baldwin down cleverly.

39.—It was almost useless to show at the scratch, but Baldwin did not like to resign the contest. Bob down.

40, and last.—Bob was no sooner up than he was down. Cribb said he should not fight any more. Neale jumped several times off the ground, so much was he elated by his conquest. It was over in one hour and thirteen minutes.

REMARKS.—Some would-be critics declared that Neale did not fight well; we think he won the battle with great credit to himself. He has clearly manifested to the sporting world that he possesses two good points towards victory—Neale can take as well as give. It should be remembered Neale had not yet numbered twenty years, yet he had attained, step by step, the high situation he held upon the milling list. Bob asserts he was not well. He might have been ill, but still he might have made use of his left with more effect, and not bobbed his head back so often. At all events, it was a capital mill.

Neale, gaining higher ground in the fancy, was matched against Jem Burn, for £200 a-side. On Tuesday, December 19th, 1824, this battle was decided at Moulsey Hurst. Neale was decidedly the favourite.

At one o’clock Jem Burn, attended by his uncle Ben, and Tom Oliver, threw his hat into the ring; and almost at the same instant Neale, waited upon by Harry Holt and Sam Tibbutt, repeated the token of defiance. The colours, blue for Neale and a dark grey for Burn, were tied to the stakes; hands were shaken in token of friendship, and the fight commenced.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Jem, on peeling, obtained the approbation of all the spectators, and “He is a fine young man,” was the general opinion round the ring. Neale was cool and steady, and seemed quite aware of the height and length of his opponent. Jem, in a hurry, went to work, and with his right hand touched an old place, damaged in the fight with White-headed Bob. Neale got away from two or three more attempts of Jem; but the young one, at length, succeeded in planting another sharp blow over Neale’s eye, which produced the claret. (“First blood!” exclaimed Uncle Ben.) Neale still on the defensive, till they got close together at the ropes, when Ned put in one or two good ones. In closing, Neale got his man down, and fell upon him.

2.—Burn, full of spirit, made play on witnessing the claret trickling from the forehead of his opponent, and obscuring his eye. (“Go it, Jem! it’s all right!”) The length of Burn enabled him to plant a facer; but Neale returned sharply. This round also finished by Burn being undermost in the fall.

3.—Jem showed himself more troublesome than Neale expected, but it was evident he wanted stamina. Small symptoms of piping betrayed themselves; Burn had been getting on beyond his strength. Neale planted two sharp hits with his right; some good fighting took place, and Burn, by his stops, convinced the spectators he was not destitute of science. Counter-hitting; but the blows of Burn, from his length, were the most effective, and the claret flowed freely from Neale’s damaged peeper. A rally, when they separated. A pause; a little wind necessary for Jem. In closing, Uncle Ben’s “nevvy” met with a heavy fall.

4.—The Streatham Youth cleared away the blood from his eye. This round was decidedly in favour of Burn; and, after an exchange of blows, Neale was knocked clean down by a blow on his chest. This event decided two bets in favour of Burn—first blood and first knock-down blow. (“We shall win it, for a thoosand!” cried Uncle Ben. Loud shouting for the young ’un, and his friends, quite nutty upon him, took the odds.)

5.—In point of punishment, the appearance of Neale was the worse, but his confidence never forsook him, and he stood firm as a rock. The men closed, but after an attempt at fibbing, separated. The right hand of Neale did a little now and then, and Burn did not make such good use of his left as he might have done. Burn again lost the throw, and Neale went down heavily on him.

6.—In this round Neale gave his opponent pepper, met him right and left, and threw him at the ropes. (“Well done, Ned!”)

7.—Jem showed weakness, when the Streatham Youth drove him to the ropes, and in closing, Jem, with great activity, planted a facer; but Neale laid hold of his adversary so tightly as to throw him over the ropes.

8.—This round was “a chalk” for Neale; he took the lead, kept it, and milled his opponent down. (“That’s the way, Ned—never leave him!” Two to one on Neale.)

9.—Burn commenced the rounds in general well, but Neale finished them. Jem again thrown.

10.—Jem got away well, but Neale was after him, and planted a body blow with his right hand that nearly made an S of Burn; his game, however, was so good that he shook it off. Neale met with a stopper on his head, but nevertheless he threw Jem.

11.—The weakness of Jem could not be disguised, and he hit short. Neale began a rally, and Jem was determined not to be behindhand with him. In closing, Neale, with the utmost ease, gave his opponent a complete cross-buttock.

12.—Nothing; Burn slipped down.

13.—Jem got away from several blows, and Neale did not do so much execution as heretofore—in fact, the length of Burn rendered him extremely difficult to be got at. In closing, Neale slipped on his hands, but napped it on his ribs.

14.—Nothing the matter, and Jack as good as his master. Burn was thrown.

15.—If the fight had not been taken out of Burn, it was clear to the unbiassed spectators that he wanted stamina. Jem put up his hands to defend himself, but he did not show any disposition to go to work. Neale waited for him, when he went to mill, and poor Jem was not only fibbed, but Neale fell upon him so hard as almost to force the breath out of his body. (“It’s all your own, Ned!”)—three to one on the Streatham Youth, by some desperate bettors.

16.—The fight was nearly over in this round, and if Jem had not proved himself a game man, it would have been to a certainty. A sharp rally took place, when Neale put in a slogger with his right on Jem’s nob, that dropped him like a shot. (“He will not come again!—Take him away!—He’s done for, poor fellow!”) However, a little brandy revived him, and, when time was called, Jem appeared at the scratch.

17.—This was short, and to add to the distress of Burn, Neale fell upon him.

18.—Burn was down almost as soon as he appeared at the mark.

19.—After some futile attempts on the part of Burn to stop his opponent, he was hit down.

20.—“It will soon be over,” said the friends of Neale. “Not for three hours,” answered Uncle Ben. Jem was again sent down.

21.—Burn napped a facer, and was soon down, owing to weakness.

22.—Jem a little better; he appeared to be getting second wind, to the great joy of his backers; he also made play, and planted a couple of hits; but at the end of the round the finishing was on the side of Neale, who got Jem down.

23.—This was a singular round. Neale bored his opponent to the ropes; and in closing Jem struggled himself out of the ring. Burn showed fight outside, but as Neale could not reach him, he returned to the scratch, and sat himself down on his second’s knee. Burn then entered the ropes, and followed his example, and so the round ended.

24–26.—In the last round, Jem dropped weak.

27.—The battle might now be said to be at an end; the event was almost reduced to a certainty. Fighting, as to execution, was out of the question on the side of Burn, and Neale was determined not to give the slightest chance away. Burn went down.

28.—Jem now bobbed his head aside to avoid the coming blow, and was hit down distressed.

29.—A severe cross-buttock nearly shook out the little wind left in Jem’s body.

30.—After a trifling exchange of blows Jem went down.

31–54.—It would be a waste of time to detail these rounds; suffice it to say that Burn fought like a brave man in all of them, and never resigned the contest till Nature completely deserted him. We repeat he is a brave young man, and ought to have been taken away half an hour before the battle was over, which occupied one hour and thirty-eight minutes.

REMARKS.—Neale was opposed to superior length, height, and an active, aspiring young man, and moreover was in nothing like such good condition as when he fought White-headed Bob; his hands also went a little, and he had too much flesh upon his frame; yet he never had the slightest chance of losing; his firmness never forsook him, and he always kept the lead. He left off nearly as strong as when he commenced. Neale is not a showy fighter, but the truth is, winning eight battles speaks a volume as to his milling character; and any boxer who enters the P. R. with Ned will find a good deal of work cut out before he says “No.” Ned is an honest man, and deserving of support; he is a civil, quiet, inoffensive fellow, which entitles him to the attention of the fancy, and a great enemy to “Lushington,” which renders the Streatham Youth a safe man at all times to back. Jem was put to bed at the “Red Lion,” Hampton, and Neale started for London at the conclusion of the battle.

By the advice of his friends, Neale inserted the following letters in the sporting journals as to his future conduct in the P. R.:—

“_To the Editor_ of ‘PIERCE EGAN’S LIFE IN LONDON.’

“SIR,—In order that Baldwin’s (better known as White-headed Bob) journey may not be delayed an hour on my account, I take the earliest opportunity of acquainting him that it is not my intention to appear again in the Prize Ring at present. As he has declared he will fight no one but a winning man, he must excuse me if I am a little particular upon that point, as I have never been beaten.

“My determination is adopted in deference to the wishes of those of my friends by whom I consider it an honour to be guided, and who possess the strongest claims to my grateful respect. When it is recollected that I have fought and won three battles, besides receiving forfeit, within seven months, I trust the liberal portion of the sporting world will consider me entitled to a cessation from labour for the present.

“I am, Sir, yours respectfully, “EDWARD NEALE.”

“_Streatham, Jan. 15, 1825._”

“_To the Editor of_ ‘PIERCE EGAN’S LIFE IN LONDON.’

“SIR,—It was with much surprise I saw a paragraph in the _Dispatch_ of last Sunday stating that Cannon had declared, at Harry Holt’s, his readiness to fight me for five hundred pounds. He probably was not aware that in your paper of the 16th ult. I declared my intention not to appear in the Prize Ring _at present_; he may, therefore, save himself the trouble of again challenging me in my absence. I believe I may with safety claim the merit of being cool and steady in the ring, and I trust I shall always be firm and consistent out of it; and if I could be induced to change my mind, my late brave and manly antagonist, Baldwin, certainly claims the preference.

“If, however, Cannon is particularly anxious to fight me, _and is not in a hurry_, I am ready and willing to make a match with him for three hundred pounds, to be decided the first week in the next year, and shall be happy to meet him at any time or place, and put down a deposit of fifty pounds. If I hesitate to meet his terms, it is because I think five hundred pounds too great a sum to call upon my backers for, to contend against a man so much my superior in weight and height, and particularly one who aspires to the Championship of England—a title which, I believe, is a considerable distance from both of us. If, however, the chance of war should place the laurel upon his brow this year, I will endeavour the next to remove it to that of

“Your obedient, humble Servant, “EDWARD NEALE.

“_Streatham, Feb. 12, 1825._”

Neale, in consequence of the above declaration, having plenty of time upon his hands, was induced to visit Ireland—not only as a tour of pleasure, but as a profitable spec., under the wing and mentorship of Pierce Egan. The _Dublin Morning Post_ thus notices him:—

“THE FANCY.—On Monday night there was a grand muster of the fancy at the Raquet Court, Winetavern Street, for the benefit of Neale and Larkin. They were patronised by an immense number of swells and tip-top Corinthians of this city. O’Neal, the big Irishman, displayed a ‘pretty considerable’ deal of science in a set-to with his trainer, Pat Halton. Larkin next put on the gloves, and gave a newly-arrived Corkonian a dose that may probably induce him to relinquish any relish he might have had for the pugilistic profession. Minor candidates then mounted the stage; they forgot, in their ardour for punishing, that a good boxer, like a good reader, always minds his stops. Just as the meeting was about dissolving, a sprig named Jackson, anxious to gather some ‘Olympic dust,’ challenged any man in the ring to a turn-up for fun. Neale, the Streatham Youth, who was standing near him, offered his services, merely for the pleasure of accommodating the young customer, whom he soon convinced of having been under a mistake with respect to his prowess. Five times did Ned treat the ‘aspiring youth’ to a smashing facer, and five times did the boasting would-be pugilist (Jackson) fall to his mother earth—

“‘——Like a full ear of corn, Whose _blossom_ ’scaped, but wither’d in the _rip’ning_.’”

“TO THE SPORTING WORLD.—Ned Neale, the Streatham Youth, will have the honour, on Monday night (for the first time in this kingdom), of soliciting the patronage of his countrymen, at Fishamble Street Theatre. He begs leave to state—and he trusts it will not be considered egotism in him to mention it—that he has already contested the palm in eight battles, with eight different candidates belonging to the Prize Ring of London, and as yet he has not been the cause of a stigma on his country. On this occasion a correct representation of that famed spot Moulsey Hurst, with a view of a wood. In the foreground the ring, with umpires, seconds, bottle-holders, fighting men, &c., &c. He begs to state that Pat Halton, who is backed to fight the Chicken on the 4th of August, has, assisted by all the first-rates of this city, offered his services for this night only. A youth from Cork, named Donovan, will appear, who wishes it known that he will peel with any man in the world of his own weight. Ned begs leave to add that no exertion on his part shall be wanting to show as much and as good sport as possible to those friends who may honour him on Monday evening with their company. Boxes, 3s. 3d.; Pit, 2s. 2d.; Gallery, 1s. 1d. Doors open at seven, and sparring commences at half-past seven o’clock.”

Neale, on his return to England, made the happiest match of his life, in which the “Ring” was also concerned, and, singular to remark, the name of Baldwin was attached to the register as a witness. It was thus announced in the journals of the day: “Fancy Marriage.—Married, on Wednesday, June 29th, 1825, at St. Luke’s, Old Street Road, Mr. Edward Neale to Miss Mary Weston. The happy pair, after a sumptuous breakfast at Bob Watson’s, the ‘Castle,’ Finsbury, started for Margate to spend the honeymoon.”

Neale was now installed Boniface of the “Black Bull,” Cow Lane, Smithfield, one of the many old inns swept away by the modern Farringdon Road and Smithfield improvements.

Sampson, who was always a restless and quarrelsome fellow, was continually taunting Neale upon his “judicious retirement,” &c., and at length, after some quires of correspondence, Neale declared his readiness to accommodate him, to finally set at rest the question of “best man.” Articles were signed to meet in June, 1826, and at the signature Neale backed himself for an even £50.

The next week brought an afflicting event. In March, 1826, Mrs. Neale died in childbed, and on the night of the second deposit at Holt’s, Sampson, in a handsome and feeling manner, declared he should not claim forfeit, and that the third deposit should be made as the second, on that day month. The friends of Neale, however, declined the postponement, and forfeited the money down. Thus matters rested until the month of August, when Neale declared himself ready to meet Sampson for not less than £200 a-side. The articles, now before us, run literally thus:—

“_Articles of Agreement entered into this 11th of September, 1826, between Edward Neale and Philip Sampson._

“The said Edward Neale agrees to fight the said Philip Sampson a fair stand-up fight in a four-and-twenty foot ring, half-minute time, for £200 a-side, on Tuesday, the 12th day of December, 1826. In furtherance of this agreement £10 a-side are now deposited in the hands of Mr. Pierce Egan. A further deposit of £40 a-side to be made good on Wednesday, the 4th October, at Harry Holt’s, the ‘Cross,’ in Cross Lane, Long Acre. A third deposit of £60 a-side to be made good on Tuesday, the 7th of November, at Edward Neale’s, the ‘Black Bull,’ Cow Lane, Smithfield. And the fourth and last deposit, of £100 a-side, to be made good on Tuesday, the 5th of December, at Josh. Hudson’s, the Half Moon Tap, Leadenhall Market. The fight to take place within thirty miles of London, Mr. Egan to name the place of fighting. The men to be in the ring between twelve and one o’clock; and in the event of failure on either side to comply with the terms of these articles, the party failing to forfeit the money down. Two umpires and a referee to be chosen on the ground, and if any dispute shall arise, the decision of the referee to be conclusive, and the battle-money to be given up accordingly.

“EDW. NEALE. “P. SAMPSON.

“Witness—JOHN ROOKE.”

On Tuesday, December 12th, 1826, at South Mimms Wash, Middlesex, fifteen miles from London, this interesting contest was decided. Sampson was thought by his friends to have improved considerably in frame and science since his second contest with Jem Ward—nay, so much so that he was placed as the “second best” on the list of pugilists; indeed, to make use of Sampson’s own words, he acknowledged Jem Ward as his master, but styled himself “foreman to the champion.” In calculating the advantages he possessed over the Streatham Youth, three points were considered in his favour—length, height, and weight; and another point was added by some—the best fighter. Sampson’s immediate friends therefore booked his winning as a certainty, urging, as a proof of their good opinion, that Neale had never beaten or stood before so capital a boxer as Sampson. The latter pugilist also supported this opinion by offering to take long odds that he won the fight in fifteen minutes, and without a black eye. Equally confident were the friends of Neale. They urged that Ned had always proved himself a conqueror, and acted upon the general rule adopted by sporting men—always to back a winning horse and a winning man to the end of the chapter. Five and six to four were betted in numerous instances upon the Streatham Youth.

As the time of fighting drew near the interest upon the battle increased, and large sums of money were sported on the event. At the John Bull Fighter’s dinner, when the whole of the four hundred sovereigns were made good, Sampson and Neale met, but not upon the most friendly terms. Sampson informed the company that he had heard Neale had spoken of him in a disrespectful manner, and he now gave him the opportunity of offering a contradiction to the aspersions he had made upon his character. Neale, with considerable warmth, replied: “You behaved unmanly to me in my own house, Sampson, while I was in a bad state of health, and I will never forgive you till you and I have decided our fight in the ring. Give me five pounds and I will bet you one hundred that I lick you.” To prevent an open row it was judged necessary by the backers of both of the men that they should separate as soon as possible.

Every precaution was used to select a secure place for fighting; and after an assurance that it was likely no interruption would take place, Dunstable Downs was the spot appointed. Sampson left the “Crown” at Holloway, his residence during the time of his training, on the Wednesday previous to the battle, and took up his quarters at the “Posting House,” in Market Street. Neale did not leave the house of his backer at Norwood until Monday morning, when he was placed, on his arrival in London, under the care of Mr. William Giles. Neale, in company with the gay little Boniface of the first market in the world, and Harry Holt, in a post-chaise, reached the Crown Inn at Dunstable about eight in the evening of the Monday.

It might have been anticipated that in consequence of Sampson having pitched his tent in the neighbourhood of the scene of action, a buzz would be created that a prize-fighter was on the spot, and the magistrates would become acquainted with the circumstance. It proved so, for on the Monday morning a notice was sent that he must not fight in the counties of Bedford and Buckingham. This information got wind early on the Monday afternoon, and the town of Dunstable, which otherwise would have been filled to an overflow, was completely spoilt, as the amateurs preferred halting at Redburn and Market Street to proceeding forward on a matter of doubt.

During the whole of the night carriages filled with persons were on the road. An hour before daylight another magistrate arrived in Dunstable, in his gig, declaring himself a magistrate for three counties, and that no mill should take place in Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire, or Hertfordshire. On his meeting with Sampson, Phil promised the gent he would not exhibit in either of the proscribed counties. It therefore became necessary to hold a council of war. Sampson wished to proceed to Stony Stratford, as a spot where no interruption was likely to take place, but Pierce Egan, on whom the selection of the ground had devolved, decided for Middlesex, acting upon the articles agreed to, which stated the fight was to be within thirty miles of London. The office being given “towards home,” confusion began, and “The devil take the hindmost,” was the word. The northern stage coaches were all filled inside and out, for the sudden turn round had nearly thrown most of the passengers bound for the fight out of distance. All the post-chaises and horses had been previously hired, so nothing else was left to numerous persons, with plenty of cash in their purses, but to toddle for miles through mud, slush, and heavy showers, to the scene of action. It was truly laughable to see lots of heavy swells, with their thick upper toggery tucked up under their arms, trudging along as if pursued by an enemy, their brows covered with perspiration, and their hinder parts splashed with dirt. The muster of the motley group was immense, and the turn-out of Corinthians more numerous than had been seen for months past at a fight. A crowd of fours-in-hand, tandems, curricles, post-chaises and fours, cabriolets, gigs, drags, &c., were all trying to get the best of each other to be early on the ground, and so obtain a good place. At length Mimms Wash appeared in view, a large sheet of water, when Bill Gibbons dashed through the stream with as much _sang froid_ as if he had been crossing a kennel in the streets of London. “We are not going to be outdone by the Ould One!” exclaimed some costermongers, following Bill, and suffering for their temerity by going head over heels in the muddy water mixture, to the no small chaffing and laughter of the crowd. Several pedestrians, regardless of cold or consequences, waded the Wash with as much indifference as if it had been a summer’s day. A swell, who had plunged in up to his middle, invited his fellow-travellers to accompany him through the flood, exclaiming: “I’m a philosopher! Come along! Follow me. I’m not wet at all. You only _fancy_ it is water!” But even this logic had not the desired effect, and his companions preferred being conveyed across the Wash in a coach. The ring was soon made, upon a rising spot of ground in a field hard by, and at a quarter past two o’clock Sampson threw his hat into the ring, amidst loud cheers, followed by his second and bottle-holder, Jem Ward and Jem Burn. Neale soon afterwards repeated the token of defiance, attended by Josh Hudson and Harry Holt. Sampson deliberately tied his colours (pink) upon the stakes; and Holt placed the dark blue bird’s eye for Neale upon those of his opponent. The men were not long in peeling, and at twenty-five minutes after two they shook hands, and the battle commenced.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Both men appeared in excellent condition. Sampson was quite tip-top, but Neale, it was thought, was not exactly weight—that is to say, what he ought to have been—and the judges hinted he was rather thin. The attitudes of the combatants claimed attention; in fact, the contrast was singular. Neale held his left hand firmly above his nob, operating as a kind of office that he was perfectly aware of the danger of the Strong Man’s right mauley. Sampson’s guard was low, but his ogles were on the alert, and he kept a good look-out to do mischief. In most fights, the first round, if not tedious, is generally expected to show superiority of science in one of the men as the first blow is considered of consequence; but in this instance it was extreme caution against extreme caution. Sampson, however, had previously asserted that only let him have the chance of getting Neale before him in the ring, and he would cut his nob to pieces. Such is the difference between theory and practice; Sampson soon found out the difficulty of going to work off-hand with his clever opponent; and Neale, like that great master in the art of war, the Duke of Wellington, was determined not to give away a chance, and preferred the retreating system. Several minutes were occupied in making offers, retreating, dodging, and pacing all over the ring without any effect, Neale jumping back from every attempt of Sampson. The goodness of Ned upon his pins attracted the attention of all spectators. After numerous attempts to do “summat,” Neale having retreated to a corner of the ring, Sampson went in and planted a slight facer. Ned, having no opportunity to make a hit, closed with his adversary. In struggling for the throw, Sampson down and undermost. (The Streathamites opened their chaffing-boxes, and gave him the benefit of their red rags, by repeated shouts of approbation.)

2.—The left arm of Neale was again raised, and Sampson could not make him out. The latter boxer did not at all seem prepared for the mode of defence resorted to by his adversary. Neale, it should seem, had made up his mind to a certain mode of fighting, and was not, by any stratagem of Sampson, to be led away from it. Neal kept walking round his adversary, anxious to obtain an opening, and retreating when anything like danger showed itself. It was remarked by a spectator that “if the one was afraid, the other dared not commence fighting.” Several minutes passed away in looking at each other, and in making feints. Phil at length went to work, but missed a slashing hit, which was calculated to have done mischief. Neale returned, but it was not effective. In closing, Neale threw Sampson heavily. (“Bravo, Neale!” from his partisans.)

3.—Sampson eyed his opponent from head to foot. Both combatants were tired of holding up their arms, or appeared to be so, and Sampson, finding nothing was to be done, dropped his guard, and stood still. Neale also crossed his arms, and viewed his opponent. In fact, it was a complete suspension of hostilities—the spectators at length, became impatient, and expressed their disapprobation. Each man several times made himself up to do mischief, and every peeper was upon the stretch to witness some hits, instead of which retreating was again the order of the day. Sampson, in following Neale, got the latter boxer again in the corner of the ring, when he hit out right and left, and caught Neale on the mug, but Ned returned the compliment. In closing, Sampson went down on his knees, and brought down Neale with him. Odds were betted on Neale.

4.—“He’ll go to work soon,” said Ward, pointing to Sampson, “and give Neale a slogger.” “I should like to see it,” said an old ring-goer; “I never saw such a mill before!” “I call it anything but fighting,” replied a third. The men looked at each other, and Sampson, with all his cleverness and experience, could not put Neale off his mode of fighting. An exchange of blows, but no mischief. Sampson made a good stop, or his wind-market must have been disturbed. Neale, however, got another turn, and planted a rum one on Sampson’s canister. (Loud shouting from Neale’s friends.) Sampson missed one of his wisty-casters at the nob of his opponent, or Ned’s upper works might have been in chancery. In closing, Sampson endeavoured to fib his adversary. Ned was thrown, Sampson uppermost.

5.—This was a short round. Neale rushed in and got Sampson down.

6.—A little bit of fighting this bout. Sampson tried all he knew, but Neale would not be had, and got away from all his opponent’s feints. After some manœuvring Sampson again had Neale in the corner of the ring, and planted one of his heavy right-handed hits on his temple. Ned for an instant appeared stunned, and fell on his knees, but jumped up directly to renew the fight. Hudson, however, pulled him down on his knee, and the round was finished.

7.—After some little dodging about the ring, each crossed his arms and stood still. Barney Aaron begged the fight might be put off, and begun again the next day with daybreak. “No, no,” exclaimed an Old One, “recollect there’s moonlight.” “I am happy,” exclaimed Josh, “that I am a patient man.” These, and a thousand such remarks, occurred all round the ring, but still the combatants were not roused into action. (“Come,” said Sampson to Neale, “why don’t you fight?”—“When I like,” answered Ned; “you begin, I’ll soon be with you.”) This round was tediously long. Counter-hitting, Neale planted a sharp blow on Sampson’s nob, and the latter returned with his right. (“He can’t make a dent in a pound of butter, Sampson. Go to work, and hit him as you did me,” said Jem Burn.—“Be quiet,” said Harry Holt; “look to your man. It’s as safe as if it was over.” This latter remark seemed to make Sampson angry, and with a sneer he observed, “What signifies what a fellow like you says?”—“I’ll give you one presently for that,” answered Neale; “he is my second, so you don’t like him.”) Neale napped a heavy one to all appearance on his head; but Sampson received a smart body blow. A variety of feints—great preparation—retreating, but no blows. In closing, Sampson fibbed his antagonist slightly. Both down, Neale undermost. The friends of Sampson here gave him a chevy for luck. During the short space of time Neale sat upon Josh’s knee, he said to him, “Sampson is but a light hitter.”—“Well, then,” replied the John Bull Fighter, “there can be no mistake about your winning!”

8.—Sampson said “First blood!” pointing to a slight scratch near Neale’s mouth. “Don’t be foolish,” replied Hudson; “it is only a touch of the scurvy on his cheek—a pimple irritated.” Neale stopped in style a tremendous right-handed hit. A pause. Sampson made a stunning hit on the head of his opponent, which nearly turned Ned round. (“What, you’ve caught it at last,” said Jem Ward, rubbing his hands. “Another blow like that, and good night to you, Master Neale.”—“Walker,” replied Josh. “Why, Jemmy, you are all abroad, to talk so!”) In closing, Sampson obtained the throw.

9.—This was an excellent fighting round. After the numerous standstills which had occurred—feints, getting away, &c.—Neale seemed quite ripe for execution. Sampson received a rum one on his listener, but returned cleverly on Neale’s index. Some good stopping occurred upon both sides, and it appeared to the spectators that the fight had just commenced. Neale stopped one of Sampson’s tremendous right-handed hits so well that several persons exclaimed, “Beautiful!” Sampson missed one or two blows. A short rally occurred, when Sampson went down from a slight hit. Ned, as yet, had scarcely the slightest mark of punishment. His friends were satisfied he was so good upon his pins that he would wear out his opponent if it came to staying.

10.—Neale saw an opening, and without hesitation turned it to his advantage. He commenced milling with severity, and planted two good hits. He also repeated the dose by a heavy right-handed hit on the jaw of his opponent, which took Sampson off his legs as if shot. He was picked up by his second like a log of wood. His eyes were closed, and his nob was swinging on his shoulder as if it did not belong to his body. “It is all U P,” was the cry—“the Strong Man is done over.” Any odds in favour of Neale. Ward endeavoured to keep Sampson’s head steady, and led him to the scratch.

11, and last.—Sampson appeared incapable of keeping his legs, neither did he attempt to put up his arms. He was of no use. Neale, by way of finisher, planted a light blow, and Sampson again measured his length upon the grass. When time was called, Sampson did not leave the knee of his second. Holt threw up the hat, and victory was declared in favour of Neale; Sampson observing he would “fight no more,” when asked by Ward, and requesting his second to take him out of the ring. Neale jumped about the ground for joy, and soon left the ring for London, neither fatigued nor hurt. Sampson was taken by some of his Birmingham friends to Market Street. The fight lasted one hour and six minutes.

REMARKS.—That this fight was not a good one was certainly not the fault of Neale. He expected, from the boast of Sampson, that he would go in and win off-hand, or fall in the attempt. Hence Ned’s over-caution, as it proved. Neale never was a showy pugilist; on the contrary, he was steady, cautious, and safe. Sampson, when he found he could not confuse his man by impetuosity, fell off sadly, and the affair, which it was anticipated would be a rattling fight, became a tedious succession of bouts of sparring, with short intervals of hitting, in which Neale was slowly but surely establishing his superiority, and Sampson was beaten against his will.

Many of the friends of Cannon, the “Great Gun of Windsor,” were of opinion that their man was just the sort of pugilist to “make Ned fight.” Accordingly a proposal was made for a meeting for a stake of £200 a-side, and accepted by Neale. On Tuesday, February 20th, 1827, the men met at Warfield, in Berkshire. The morning was intensely cold, and both men appeared at the ring-side with their nobs covered with Welsh wigs, Neale having slept overnight at the “Crown,” in Windsor, and Cannon driven over from his training quarters, the New Inn, at Staines. The men shook hands with smiling cordiality, each assuring the other he “felt quite well.” The colours were then tied to the stakes, a blue bird’s-eye for Neale, and crimson with a white spot for Cannon. Peter Crawley and Harry Harmer waited upon Cannon, Harry Holt and Josh Hudson on Neale.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The Great Gun, on stripping, showed excellent condition; but in spite of good skin training, age cannot be concealed; and Cannon, according to the exclamation of “The Gas,” was “an old man.” The fact is that Neale was not yet twenty-three years of age, while Cannon had passed his _thirty-sixth_! Cannon appeared cheerful, smiling, and confident. The body of Neale was covered with spots, like a leopard—his condition was anything but good; he had a slight cold, and his flesh was soft; yet the grand points in his favour were youth, and a “heart in the right place.” On setting-to, Cannon did not display that bull-dog sort of eagerness which characterised his efforts in his second battle with the John Bull Fighter, but he was upon the alert, ready to punish, and anxious to obtain an opening. Cannon commenced offensive operations, but his wary opponent “would not have it,” and got away. Cannon tried it again, but it would not do; Ned endeavoured to plant a hit, but the Great Gun was not to be had, and retreated from mischief. Sparring on both sides, but no hitting. Neale at length went to work, and with his left mauley slightly touched his opponent’s canister; Cannon returned sharply. A short struggle occurred, and Cannon went down.

2.—The milling qualities of the Great Gun were prominent, and he was upon the bustle to do business; but Ned was “up and dressed,” and his left hand again told upon his opponent’s mug. Cannon was not behindhand, and some sharp blows were exchanged. Milling on the retreat (after Tom Cribb’s successful mode) was now adopted by Neale; he planted a tremendous blow under the listener of his adversary, and the claret followed profusely. If this heavy blow had been a little lower, it might have been “Good night to the Great Gun!” Cannon, rather confused and wild, rushed in to work—he obtained the throw, Neale went down, and Cannon also; in falling, his nob came in contact with the stakes. Neale was the hero of the tale.

3.—Cannon, like nothing but a game man, appeared at the scratch smiling. This was a short round. The Great Gun tried to fire a heavy shot, and boldly went up to his man; but the Youth hooked him round his neck, and endeavoured to fib. Cannon proved himself the stronger man, got Neale down, and fell on him.

4.—The Streatham Youth got away from mischief, and made good use of his pins. Some blows were exchanged, when they closed. A desperate struggle occurred for the throw; both down, Neale undermost.

5.—The Great Gun, as gay as a lark, went to work, but napped a conker; yet he would not be denied, and a sharp rally was the result. Some heavy hits were exchanged: the fire proving too hot, Ned turned round from mischief; the Great Gun pursued him, when Neale turned and rushed to the attack; some clumsy thumps passed. In closing, Ned had the best of it, but fell on his head. Neale was much shaken by the fall.

6.—The Great Gun was all for fighting, and kept to his work. Neale was ready, but nevertheless kept a good look-out. In a rally, both their faces napped punishment, but Ned retreated in style. In struggling for the throw, both down, Neale undermost.

7.—The weakness of the Streatham Youth was visible to his friends, but they still felt satisfied he must win. A good rally, and Cannon up to the mark, giving hit for hit. In closing, they both stood still, trying to hold the hands of each other. Ned broke away, and tipped it to Cannon in his victualling office; he ultimately obtained the throw, and the Great Gun came down on his nob, a shaker. (“Neale for a thousand!”)

8.—The Great Gun showed distress on appearing at the scratch. Ned tried to be with him, but Cannon closed in by catching Neale round the neck. The fibbing system was adopted by Ned, and upon Cannon getting the worst of it he dropped upon his knees. The coolness of Neale was here seen to great advantage; he was in the act of hitting, when he stopped himself and held up his arms, amidst loud cheers from all parts of the ring. (“Bravo, Ned! well done, it’s manly!”)

9.—The Great Gun was rather unsteady; but his pluck was as good as gold. The science of Neale gave him great advantages, although he was out of condition; he watched the movements of Cannon with the keen eye of a general till it answered his purpose to commence fighting. Ned planted a facer, but Cannon countered. In closing, holding of hands to prevent punishment was again the feature; and Neale was so weak that he could not get the best of his opponent in his usual workman-like style. The struggle became long and desperate, when the Great Gun went down undermost.

10.—This round was all in favour of Ned. He planted a rum one on the muzzle of the Great Gun, repeated the dose with his left, then brought in his right to great advantage. In closing Cannon did his best to grasp his opponent firmly; but Neale broke away cleverly, and planted a heavy body blow with his right hand. Cannon fought his way into another close; in struggling both down, the Streatham Youth undermost.

11.—The Great Gun wanted breath, and sparred for time, but anxious not to be idle, went to work. Ned was ready for him, and some blows were exchanged. Cannon rushed in determined, as it were, to have the fall. In struggling he threw his opponent, although he went down himself. Neale’s nob came in sharp contact with the ground, his face underwent a momentary change, and he appeared hurt by the fall. He rested his head upon the back of his bottle-holder, and his friends became alarmed for the consequences. But when time was called, he was ready.

12.—Neale seemed anxious to recover the accident, and put in with the utmost ease two teasers on Cannon’s nob, right and left, that made his pimple shake again. A sharp rally followed, and “Jack was as good as his master.” It was Millers’ Place, Cannon Row, and Pepper Alley, all brought down from town. Neale had the worst of the punishment; he, however stuck close to his man. Cannon was sent out of the ropes, and Ned also went down.

13.—Good on both sides; Cannon always ready, and no flincher. In fact, he appeared as cheerful as if he was at work on the river. Neale got away from mischief, but Cannon would follow him, till a rally was the result. In closing Cannon received a cross-buttock that shook him seriously.

14.—Neale was much distressed, and the Great Gun tried to have the best of him by bustling. In closing he got Neale’s nob under his arm; and the latter, for a short time, could not release himself from his perilous situation. (“Bravo, Cannon, now’s your time! you have got him—don’t let him go!”) Cannon at length let Neale down. The backers of the Great Gun flattered themselves the chance was in their favour, and actually took him at evens.

15.—Neale, aware of his weakness, acted upon the defensive; and Cannon went to work, as the best means to turn the tide. The Great Gun, in closing, again caught hold of Neale, the latter trying to hold the hands of his opponent. In this unpleasant situation, both to themselves and the spectators, they continued for a minute, until quite exhausted they both went down, Neale undermost; Cannon for choice, and some were jolly enough to offer 5 to 4.

16.—The Great Gun, acting under the advice of his seconds, endeavoured to have his opponent upon the bustling system, and went to work. He bored Neale to the ropes, and here another disagreeable struggle took place, both for a short time hanging upon the ropes, till they fell outside of the ring. The Great Gun was undermost. (“Cannon for ever!” was the cry. “He can’t lose it! The battle is changed! 6 to 4 on the Great Gun!”)

17.—At the scratch Cannon appeared the fresher man of the two. Ned was out of wind, and sparring was necessary for both. Neale tried his right hand, but without effect. A cessation of arms for a short period, and both on the look-out. Cannon at length rushed upon Neale with an intent of punishment, but Ned, wide awake, retreated, followed by his opponent. At the ropes Cannon went to work, but Ned put on the stop capitally. The Streatham Youth broke ground, when Cannon would not be denied, but he napped a facer. In closing Ned threw Cannon, and fell upon him severely.

18.—The Great Gun, rather unsteady, bored in to punish his adversary; but Neale, who was now getting better, made use of his pins to great advantage, and got away with ease. One severe facer Cannon napped, a second followed without any return, and a third finished the round, the claret running from Cannon’s nose, when he fell exhausted. (Loud shouting for Neale, and 6 to 4 on him.)

19.—Cannon was game to the backbone, and appeared at the scratch like a trump. Neale, with great judgment, made himself up to do something good; he viewed his adversary well, then let fly a tremendous nobber, which sent Cannon staggering back to the ropes; Ned followed him and threw him heavily.

20.—Neale was on his mettle; he commenced play with his right with good effect, and Cannon’s nob met punishment. The Great Gun was now reduced to a little gun, nevertheless he showed fight like a brave man, by returning hits. Ned put in another severe facer, and in closing Cannon went down on his back, Neale upon him. (2 to 1, and no takers.)

21.—Cannon came up quite groggy, but the fight was not out of him. The courage and game he displayed were admirable, and he earned the praise of all spectators. But in boxing term he was of “no use.” Ned put in a nobber that almost stunned him, and Cannon staggered about like a drunken man. In closing, Ned again obtained the throw, and the fall was indeed severe. Cannon lay on the ground, declining to be lifted up till the call of “time.”

22, and last.—The Great Gun came up like nothing but an out-and-outer, but his shot was not point-blank, and he swerved and reeled unsteadily. Neale put in a left-handed push, when the Great Gun rolled through the ropes and fell outside. He was in a state of stupor. His seconds brought him into his corner, but while they were busy the umpire declared he had not answered the call of “time.” The referee agreed, and the victory was declared to Neale. The battle lasted only thirty minutes. Neale cut several capers at the announcement, and returned to his carriage, while the defeated man was taken to his quarters at Staines.

REMARKS.—The report here given leaves little room for comment. Cannon, whose courage had “moulted no feather,” was beaten by freshness, activity, and a better style of boxing than his own. This was his last fight, and thus, after his defeat by Jem Ward, the once formidable bargeman, like many another champion who has “trusted to the energy of a waning age,” furnished one more instance of the truism that “youth will be served.”

At Sam Tebbutt’s opening dinner on the occasion of his taking the “Bull’s Head,” Saffron Hill (another of the demolished purlieus of Old Smithfield), Uncle Ben expressed his “Nevvy’s” desire to meet Neale once more in the lists, provided Ned would deposit £250 against £200 of “mine uncle’s” money. Neale closed with the proposal, and posted £10, but Neale’s principal backer considering the conditions imprudent, he wrote from Brighton, whither he had gone, forfeiting the £10 down.

A few weeks afterwards, however, articles were signed at the “Castle,” Holborn, for Neale to fight Jem Burn, £120 to £100, and the day fixed for Tuesday, Nov. 13th, 1827. So confident was Neale of the result that he named Monday, Nov. 12th (the day before the fight), for his benefit at the Tennis Court. After the sparring, Neale, accompanied by Harry Holt, started for Bagshot, to be near the proposed field of action.

Early on Tuesday morning the road to Staines was covered with all sorts of vehicles from London, and Shirley’s, the New Inn was overflowing with first-rate company. Winkfield Plain, in Berkshire, was the spot in view, and the fancy lost no time in surrounding the ring. Near the appointed hour Jem Burn threw his hat into the ropes, accompanied by Tom Belcher and Tom Cannon as his seconds. Neale was close at his heels, and delivered his tile with the utmost confidence, attended by Josh Hudson and Harry Holt. The colours—blue, with a white spot, for Ned, and a Belcher handkerchief for Burn, were tied to the stakes. The men shook hands smilingly, and at eight minutes past one commenced

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On peeling, Jem looked the picture of health. He weighed thirteen stone, and was three inches taller than his adversary. Neale did not exactly answer the expectations of his friends; he looked pale, and his back and bosom were covered with a scorbutic eruption. Ned did not exceed twelve stone. He held his left hand remarkably high in defence, and in every other point seemed prepared for attack. Burn kept manœuvring to obtain an opening, but Neale was too wary to give a chance away. Jem at length let fly at the body, but Neale was away. Jem then tried left and right, but Neale, as before, got out of mischief. Burn, puzzled, made another attempt with his left hand, which alighted slightly on Ned’s left ogle. Neale, in return, endeavoured to plant a heavy right-handed hit on the nob, but it fell short on the shoulder. Burn, anxious to do some execution, again let fly right and left, but out of distance. Ned took advantage of the mistake, went in to his man, and by a heavy right-handed blow on the side of his head, floored Burn like a shot. First event for the Streatham Youth.

2.—Jem came well up to the scratch, and commenced offensive operations right and left, but Ned, laughing, said it was “no go,” and got out of the way of mischief like a skilful tactician, yet instantly returned to the attack, when Jem napped another floorer, to the great joy of the Streathamites. The Yorkites began to look blue.

3.—Jem could not measure his distance, and again threw his blows away, when Neale went in to punish _sans cérémonie_. (“Hit with him,” says Tom Belcher. “Yes,” replied Josh, “he will get much the best of that.”) Burn stopped some hits, and returned on Neale’s nob. The latter, however, soon resumed the lead. Jem was once more sent down with comparative ease, and Neale rested himself on his second’s knee.

4.—Short but sweet to the Streatham Youth; Jem could not plant his blows, when Neale put in a throttler which sent Burn down in a twinkling. It is impossible to describe the exultation of the friends of Neale. Two to one offered.

5.—This was more a wrestling than a fighting round; both combatants were down side by side.

6.—Neale seemed perfectly awake to every move of his adversary, and got out of trouble with the utmost _sang froid_. In closing, Jem struggled hard, and both down.

7.—Jem endeavoured to plant two well-meant hits, but the science of Neale rendered them harmless. After a little manœuvring, Ned went to work, when Jem was soon sent down on his latter end.

8.—Jem had a small slice of luck at the opening of this round, by planting a left-handed hit on the right peeper of Neale, which produced a slight tinge of the claret. (“First blood,” was claimed by the friends of Jem, but the Streatham Youth laughed, and said, “I shall soon make that even.”) A sharp rally concluded the round, in which Jem threw many blows away, while Ned administered pepper until Jem went down staggering.

9.—Burn endeavoured to do something, but his blows generally fell short. Ned was always with his adversary upon the slightest mistake, and Jem was ultimately down.

10.—This was a well-fought round on both sides. Jem’s right hand told on the side of Ned’s head, and several other blows of Burn were also planted with effect, when Ned fell on the ropes and went down. (“Go along, Jem! that’s the way to win! Keep it up, my lad,” from his backers.)

11.—Burn put on the stopper well; and in closing Burn got down cleverly from the fibbing system attempted by his adversary.

12.—The nob of Jem looked rather the worse for wear; but he planted some slight facers. Neale fought his way into a rally, had the best of it, and in closing Burn was down.

13.—Jem went to work rather wild, but planted a hit or two. Ned, however, was with him, and dropped Burn by a blow in the mouth, like a shot.

14.—This round proved extremely serious to the Burnites. The combatants soon got into a rally, in which the blows of Neale operated like cannon-shot, till Jem was quite abroad, and went down of no use. (This severe punishment operated so severely upon the feelings of Uncle Ben that he fell on his back on the ground dreadfully convulsed. Several men who immediately ran to render Uncle Ben assistance could scarcely hold him during the time he was bled by a surgeon. On his recovery, he was immediately conveyed to Staines, and put to bed in a very exhausted state of body and mind.)

15.—Jem appeared at the scratch quite in a groggy state. The pepper-box was again administered in the most effectual manner by Neale; resistance seemed almost out of Jem’s power, until he once more measured his length on the grass.

16.—Burn could not measure his distances, and fought wildly. Ned had it all his own way, punishing right and left, until Jem was down.

17, 18, 19.—In all these rounds Jem not only napped it in all manner of directions, but was sent down.

20.—Burn missed a well-aimed left-handed blow at the head of his opponent, when Neale, in return, planted a tremendous hit on his sensitive box, which not only produced the claret freely, but floored him. (Any odds, but no takers.)

21.—The quality of game could not be denied to Jem; he stood and took the milling like a receiver-general. He was knocked off his pins without any ceremony.

22.—The left hand of Neale met Jem bang in the middle of the head, which produced the claret in torrents, as he measured his length on the grass.

23.—Jem hit down before he had scarcely got up his arms.

24.—Jem slipped down by accident.

25.—Burn was piping, and almost abroad; but Belcher was on the alert to keep Jem at his work. (“Be ready, my dear boy,” cried Tom; “hit with him, he’s coming.” “Yes,” replied the John Bull Fighter, “Ned is coming, and your man will soon be going—or rather, like the auctioneer, gone!”) Neale received a facer which produced the claret; but he returned the favour with interest, and Jem was again sent down.

26.—Jem now tried desperate fighting, hitting away in all directions; but Ned was too leary. The latter boxer got a stopper on the nob; but Jem was again down. (“You must admit, gents,” observed the elegant Holt, “that Jem is a _down-y_ one; he has been down almost to the end of the chapter. The finish is also near at hand. I’ll bet any odds.”)

27, 28, 29, 30.—In all of these rounds the lead and punishment were decidedly in favour of Neale, and Jem was sent down in every one of them.

31.—Jem showed fight, and planted a facer; but it was too slight to do anything like damage to Neale. The latter followed Jem all over the ring, until he sent him down. (Tom Cannon, by way of raising the spirits of Burn, said, “He can never lick you, Jem.” “Yes,” replied Ned, “and you afterwards, and no mistake; and I’ll try it, if you like.”)

32, 33, 34, 35, 36.—It is true that in some of these rounds Jem planted facers which produced the claret, but he could not turn a single round in his favour. Ned was continually administering punishment, and Jem was down in all of these rounds. (“Take him away!”)

37.—Jem was cruelly distressed, but he would not say “no,” and showed fight at the scratch. He napped lots of milling in a rally, and went down as heavy as lead. (“Take him away! he’s of no use!”)

38.—Down, and no return; so much did Neale show his superiority over Jem.

39.—Of the same class; he appeared at the scratch only to be milled down. (“It’s a shame to bring him up! Take him home, Belcher!”)

40.—Burn, almost as a forlorn hope, went to work with more spirit than could have been expected from his exhausted state, and planted several hits in better style than in most of the preceding rounds; but this exertion was now too late, and he was milled down flat on his face. (The cries were extremely loud: “Take him away; you’ll be lagged else.” “Why don’t you listen to the advice of your friends,” said Josh, “if you wish to prevent serious consequences to yourselves?”)

41.—It was all the cash in the Bank to a ninepence that Jem must lose it; in fact, his backers and seconds ought to have had him taken out of the ring. Jem down, with his face on the earth.

42.—Nearly U P; Burn was down as soon as he appeared at the scratch.

43, and last.—Jem could scarcely show at the scratch, he was so completely exhausted. He staggered about like a drunken man, when Neale did little more than push him down. It was all over; and when picked up by Tom Belcher, his head fell on his shoulder, and he was insensible. The fight continued forty-six minutes. Jem was bled on the ground; nevertheless, he remained in a state of stupor for several minutes. He was severely punished about the head, while Neale was scarcely the worse for the fight. In truth, so little did he care for the punishment he had received that he offered to fight Tom Cannon off-hand, for £100 a-side, and it was a matter of difficulty that Neale’s friends made him quit the ring. £7 10s. only were collected on the ground for Jem Burn.

REMARKS.—The perusal of the rounds of the above battle are so decisive in themselves as scarcely to require any observation. Ned had it all his own way, from the beginning of the fight to the end of the contest. His superior confidence, united with the science which was conspicuous in every round, pronounced him a master of the art of self-defence. Coolness is a winning faculty on the part of Neale, who possesses it in an eminent degree. Jem fought bravely, no one can deny; but contending in long blows instead of close quarters rendered his blows non-effective, and he was completely beaten at out-fighting. It is, however, due to Jem Burn to state that he contested every inch of ground like a man of the highest courage. He would not say no, and refused to be taken away, which he might have done without compromising his character as a pugilist. He never left the scratch until nature had deserted him; and the best man in the world must, like Jem, submit to the fortune of war. Neale, in this conquest, obtained in such a superior style, placed himself high in the ranks of pugilism; and his backers entertained so high an opinion, not only of his talents, but of his integrity and thorough trustworthiness, that it was resolved to match him against the accomplished Jem Ward.

The very next day, at Burn’s benefit at the Tennis Court, Neale, whose face was but slightly disfigured, mounted the stage after the principal bout, between Jem Ward and big Bob Burn, in which Jem sent the burly one off the platform with surprisingly little damage to his sixteen stone carcass, and presented himself to the amateurs. He offered, such was the readiness of good men in those days, to meet Baldwin for £250 to £200 or £500 to £400, that day week, or that day month, or two months, at his option; or he would fight Tom Cannon, Reuben Martin, or any twelve stone man in England, for any sum they pleased; or he would fight the three men named within three months, with a month’s interval. This sweeping challenge brought up Ned Baldwin, who said he was not at that moment prepared to make a match, but would appoint an evening for the purpose, and give Neale notice to attend. Tom Cannon next showed. “Gentlemen,” said the Windsor Gun, “I am out of condition, and both my shoulders are bad. I have now plaisters on my chest. But I hope to be well by April, when Neale shall not want a customer.”

At a sporting dinner on Thursday, Nov. 22nd, 1827, at Sam Tebbutt’s, the “Bull’s Head,” Peter Street, to celebrate Neale’s victory, Ned was surrounded by backers and friends. The chairman (Pierce Egan) reviewed the victorious career of Neale, stating his battles, and that his name had never yet been associated with defeat—that he had proved himself as honest as he was brave, a dutiful son, an affectionate brother, a kind-hearted husband, and a sincere friend—in short, a true man in all the relations of life. He therefore proposed a subscription to present him with a silver cup of the value of one hundred guineas, as a testimony to his upright and brave conduct. The proposition was agreed to, and twenty-one guineas subscribed in the room.

The subject of a match between Jem Ward and Ned Neale was on the carpet at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, on Tuesday, Nov. 20th, 1827, when two gentlemen posted £5 a-side, to be made £100—£15 a-side to be posted the next evening. On the Wednesday Neale’s backer announced that he had not been able to see Neale, and wished a postponement; but Ward’s friend claimed forfeit, and it was paid over accordingly. £20 was then deposited by a friend of Neale’s, to be made £200 if Neale consented to fight Ward in two months—the money to be returned (less half-a-dozen of wine) in the event of Neale’s non-compliance. On Friday, Nov. 23rd, an immense assemblage of the fancy took place at the “Castle,” when, Jem Ward not being present (he did not appear during the whole evening), forfeit was claimed. The gentleman who backed Ward demurred, stating he knew Jem was ready to go on with the match, and he was ready with a further deposit. Neale, who was in attendance, said, as the deposit had been made to fight for £200 within two months, he must decline complying with those terms. He did not think he could get into sufficient condition to meet such a man as Jem Ward, and he was resolved never to peril his own reputation, and the interest of his friends, by entering the ring unfit. The deposits were hereupon drawn.

Ned Baldwin now offered himself once again to Neale’s notice for £150 a-side. To this Neale replied, offering to fight Baldwin, as once beaten, for £250 to £200. Articles were formulated and signed, and Tuesday, March 11th, 1828, fixed as the day. Baldwin left town for Leicestershire to train. Here a trivial occurrence had well-nigh wrecked Baldwin’s chance and money, as will be seen by the subjoined letter to the editor of the _Weekly Dispatch_:—

London, _Feb._ 2nd, 1828.

“SIR,—On my return from Melton Mowbray I was sorry to find my character had been assailed by a Leicester paper, in which my conduct has been entirely misrepresented. I refer to the account of a dispute which took place between two respectable coach proprietors, who, I hope, have settled their differences amicably. It is stated I took an active part in the ‘disturbance.’ Now, sir, the truth is that I was merely a passive spectator of the quarrel, and never interfered by word or act—in fact, I was equally a friend to both parties. Like others, I laughed, but knew my situation too well to interfere. I knew that I was backed against Ned Neale, and that by joining in such a dispute I should be ‘throwing a chance away’—conduct of which even my enemies would scarcely accuse me. For being present, however, I was taken before a magistrate, and held to bail till the sessions, which will be held at the beginning of April; but even this fact did not justify the false statement to my prejudice made in the _Leicester Herald_. However, as my recognisances only stand good till the sessions, I shall continue to make my deposits with Ned Neale good; and I have too much reliance on his honourable feeling not to believe, even if I am obliged to put our meeting off for a month, that he will willingly grant me that time. He has said that he means fighting, and so do I; and as the articles express that the stakes shall remain till we have fairly decided who is the best man, upon that understanding I mean to act. I shall attend with my backers at Tom Cribb’s, on Tuesday next, with the needful, and hope to meet my antagonist on friendly terms. With regard to the worthy magistrate who held me to bail, I have no doubt he felt he was justified; but when my trial takes place, I shall be able to prove my entire innocence of any illegal act whatever. By my profession, if fighting a few battles can be so called, I have been taught to love ‘fair play.’ I know enough of the sporting gentlemen of Leicestershire to believe that they are equal admirers of that truly British characteristic; and I rest perfectly satisfied that I shall not be sacrificed to any unjust prejudice which may have been excited against me from my being a member of the P. R.

“Yours respectfully, “EDWARD BALDWIN.”

On Tuesday evening, the 5th of February, the time appointed for making the fifth deposit, the “Union Arms,” in Panton Street, was overflowing at an early hour. Neale and Baldwin were both present, and on “time” being called, both said their money was ready. Baldwin, alluding to the late unfortunate affair at Leicester, although perfectly innocent of any act of disorder whatever, said he had been held to bail to appear at the sessions, and also during the intervening period to keep the peace towards all His Majesty’s subjects. This was an event which he had not foreseen, and he hoped Neale would liberally assent to the match being postponed for such a time as would allow him to appear at the sessions, when he should be enabled to show that he had been the victim of prejudice. Neale had said he meant fighting; so did he, and he hoped the stakes would be permitted to remain till the event came fairly off.

Neale said he was willing to give his antagonist every indulgence, and to meet his wishes to the fullest extent.

The articles were then altered according to the new arrangement, the men to fight for an even £250 a-side, and the match fixed for the 22nd of April. If Baldwin should be bound in recognisances at that time, he would pay Neale’s expenses to go to France; and if imprisoned, he would agree to forfeit £200 of the stakes down. With this all parties were satisfied, and Baldwin was applauded for the spirit he had displayed.

On Tuesday evening, March 4th, 1828, a meeting was held at Harry Holt’s for the purpose of making good the last deposit towards the £250 a-side. Neale’s money was ready, but Baldwin had been disappointed in the expected arrival of a friend, who was to have posted a portion of the needful on his behalf. Neale said that he would not claim the forfeit. The word of a gentleman being therefore given that the required sum should be placed in the hands of the stakeholder in the course of a week, it was considered as understood that the whole of the money was made good. Another alteration was then made in the time of fighting. Baldwin remarked that the 22nd of April (the day then fixed) was in the week appointed for the Newmarket meeting, and this might prevent many of the turf men from being present. Baldwin therefore proposed an adjournment of the fight for a week. Neale said a week would make no difference to him; but if he acceded to Baldwin’s wishes, he ought to have the right to name the place of meeting. To this Baldwin at once agreed, and it was therefore arranged that the fight should stand over to the 29th of April, and that Neale should have the right to say “where.” Ill luck, however, pursued the fixture; and on Thursday, April 29th, 1828, many hundreds left London, and returned, few of them until the next day, after a weary journey to Liphook, in Hampshire, thence to Guildford and Godalming, to find that warrants against Neale and Baldwin were out in Surrey, Sussex, and Hampshire. A move into Berks was decided on, and Bagshot made the rendezvous. Here, at Hatchard’s Lane, in the parish of Wingfield, the ring was pitched, and shortly after Neale arrived in the carriage of his patron, Mr. Sant. Ned quietly alighted, and threw his hat into the ring, attended by his seconds, Josh. Hudson and Harry Holt. Bob was equally on the alert, and repeated the token of defiance, followed by Peter Crawley and Dick Curtis. Bob won the toss, when the colours were tied to the stakes, a bright purple for Baldwin and a dark blue bird’s-eye for the Streatham Youth. The betting was seven to four on Neale. At half-past one o’clock the fight commenced:—

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The condition of Neale appeared good on stripping, but a few of his friends thought he was rather too fat, and blotches on his body were, as usual, prominent; Bob was also well, but he looked pale. Ned was confident, and after a little manœuvring for the first advantage, Bob hit out with his right, but Ned was leary, and it fell short; Bob then commenced the bustling system, when a few blows were exchanged. In closing Bob napped one on his cheek as he was going down. Neale fell on him. “Well done, Neale!”

2.—Bob, still on the bustle, hurried to his work, but again hit out of distance and fell on his hands. Ned missed a heavy upper-cut with the right, that might otherwise have done mischief.

3.—Both hit short. Baldwin missed in a second attempt; but Ned planted a nobber, then went to work in right earnest, and not only put in a teaser on the side of Bob’s head, but closed and gave the white-headed one a cross-buttock.

4.—Bob planted a slight facer, but received a severe return. In closing, Ned fibbed his opponent, and then threw him like a first-rate wrestler.

5.—On Neale’s coming to the scratch, Curtis claimed “first blood” from Ned’s nose, but the umpires could not perceive it. This was a short round, facers on both sides, the White-headed one again thrown.

6.—Ned planted two severe facers; Baldwin, in return, hit out wildly, and lost his distance. Neale repeated the dose on the left ear of Bob, which produced the claret, and the event of first blood was decided in favour of Neale. In closing Baldwin got down skilfully to prevent being thrown.

7.—The right hand of Neale again told, but in struggling for the fall Ned was undermost. “Bravo, Bob!”

8.—Nothing. Both men hit out of distance, when Bob ran in wildly after his adversary, missed him, and fell.

9.—Bob fond of bustling, but in rushing in he napped a snorter, the claret following the blow. In going down Neale was successful in planting two hits.

10.—This round looked like fighting; both men were on their mettle, and anxious to do mischief. Ned’s right hand told—ditto, ditto, and ditto; yet Bob was not idle, and returned well; nevertheless, Baldwin was hit down. (“It’s as right as the day,” said the John Bull Fighter; “Ned’s turned auctioneer; he knocked down the last lot cleverly, and Mr. Baldwin bought it.”)

11.—The right hand of Bob would have been mischievous if he could have timed his blows; but he appeared so much in a hurry that they fell short. Baldwin put in a heavy body blow, but was thrown.

12.—Ned took the lead, and nobbed his adversary; Bob, endeavouring to return, missed. In closing, Baldwin slipped on his knees. Ned threw up his hands and walked away, amidst thunders of applause.

13.—Neale again had it all his own way; he threw Baldwin. Four to one and no takers, so satisfied were the spectators that Neale would prove the conqueror.

14.—Baldwin’s left hand told on Neale’s cheek, but the latter countered with effect. Bob received another severe cross-buttock.

15.—Bob could not change a single round in his favour, hitting wildly, and quite out of distance. He received a heavy blow on the nose. In closing Bob was thrown on the ropes.

16.—Bob did not heed scientific movements; he endeavoured to overwhelm Neale by bustling in helter-skelter, missed his aim, and fell.

17.—Of no importance. Bob piping. Ned planted his right hand. In closing, both down.

18.—A straight facer, and ditto by Neale, Bob returning as wild as a novice. Baldwin thrown.

19.—Bob had a small turn in this round. He planted a heavy hit on the left peeper of Neale, and another blow, which produced the claret on Neale’s cheek. In going down Neale was undermost. (“That’s the way to win,” said Dick Curtis; “wait for him and make your right tell.”)

20.—Both milling, counter-hits. Bob tried the bustling system again, and bored Neale down. (“Well done, Bob!”)

21.—Bob stopped Ned’s left hand cleverly, and gave Neale a teaser on his left eye. In struggling for the throw, both went down.

22.—This was a milling round. Bob seemed steadier, and returned hit for hit; but Neale planted a tremendous blow on his opponent’s left eye, and threw him cleverly.

23.—Ned got out of mischief like an able tactician. He, however, soon returned to the charge, and with his right floored the White-headed one. This was the first knock-down blow.

24.—Bob came to the scratch rather abroad; he ran in wildly, slipped, caught hold of Ned, and fell on his knees. Neale again walked away, receiving lots of applause for his forbearance. In fact, he actually helped him up, which kindness Baldwin returned by a shake of the hand.

25.—Bob, full of pluck, fought his way into a spirited rally, and give and take was the feature for a short period, until Ned finished the round by giving Bob a severe cross-buttock.

26.—Bob commenced fighting as wild as ever. Ned endeavoured to stop his rush, when Bob slipped down with his hands up. Neale, though in the act of hitting, restrained himself, to prevent anything foul.

27.—Ned planted his right and left with success, Bob hitting out of all distance, as heretofore. In closing both down.

28.—Baldwin retreated to the ropes, followed by Ned. In closing at the ropes Neale tried fibbing, and also threw Bob.

29.—Had Baldwin steadied himself, and measured his distance, he could not have thrown so many right-handed hits away. Ned planted some slight taps, when both went down.

30.—The blows of Ned did not appear to do so much execution as heretofore; his friends thought he hit with his left hand open; Baldwin was met in his rush by a flush hit on his nob. In closing, Ned went down.

31.—Baldwin, by a sort of scrambling hit, felt for the left peeper of Neale, but the latter made good his right and left. In closing, both down.

32.—Neale again triumphant. He went up, _sans cérémonie_, to Baldwin’s nob, and floored him. (A tremendous shout of applause from all parts of the ring.)

33.—Decidedly in favour of Neale; the right hand of the latter told with severity on Baldwin’s already damaged listener; another desperate cross-buttock closed the round against Baldwin.

34.—The game exhibited by Bob was loudly praised; both men were fighting at points in this round. The advantage, however, was on the side of Neale, and Bob was ultimately thrown out of the ropes.

35.—Counter-hits. In closing, both went down; Neale struck his nob rather in an awkward manner.

36.—In spite of all the advice given by Dick Curtis to Bob he would still rush forward to attack his adversary. Ned, like a skilful general, got out of the way of danger, rendering the attempts of Baldwin abortive. Bob was thrown.

37.—The rounds now were short. Ned hit right and left, but not severely. Both down.

38.—Neale took the lead, and planted several hits; both again went down.

39.—Baldwin almost ran in to punish his adversary, which Neale perceiving stepped aside nimbly, and Bob fell.

40.—Up to this period of the battle Neale was the favourite. The latter got away from Bob’s fury, and in closing Baldwin was thrown.

41.—Bob got a small turn in his favour in this round. It is true he was the most punished, but he did not appear reduced much in strength. Bob again missed with his right; but in closing he made a desperate effort, and threw Neale a severe cross-buttock. (The friends of Bob gave him thunders of applause, and the disinterested spectators were not backward in crying out, “Bravo!”)

42.—Both men countered well; and after a long struggle, in closing, both down.

43.—(“Hit with your right hand,” said Dick, “and the battle must be your own. Don’t run at your man like a mad bull.”) But all advice was thrown away—Bob acted as heretofore, when Ned got neatly out of trouble. Baldwin received a heavy right-hander on the side of his head, which he endeavoured to return with his left; in so doing he fell on his knees, but instantly jumped up to renew the fight, when Ned obtained the throw.

44.—Ned made play with his right hand, but Bob was again on the bustle, and in struggling for the throw got Neale down.

45.—This was a short but busy round. Both on the alert—counter-hits—a rally, and in closing for the fall, Ned was thrown.

46.—Ned, as if determined to finish off his man, went to fight, _sans cérémonie_. He caught Baldwin on the right side of his nob, threw him a heavy cross-buttock, and fell over him.

47.—Neale’s right and left told; Bob bored in, caught hold of his adversary, and fell on his knees. Ned, instead of punishing him, patted Baldwin on the back, and once more walked to the knee of his second, amidst uproarious applause.

48.—Neale took the lead right and left. Bob, wild at such treatment, closed, and got Neale down.

49.—A fighting round; capital counter-hits. Bob received so severe a facer that he went down like a spinning-top.

50.—The game displayed by Baldwin was the admiration of the spectators; his mug was punished, and his eyebrow badly damaged. Ned took the lead; and Bob, anxious to return, fell in the attempt.

51.—Bob was piping, and rather abroad; nevertheless his right hand was always dangerous; he was again unlucky in his distance. Ned planted his right hand, and Bob found his way to grass.

52.—Bob without delay fought into a rally, when Ned got out of trouble by turning round, but immediately resumed milling. In closing, Bob obtained the throw, and Neale came heavily down on his neck.

53.—Bob was no sooner at the scratch than he rushed in without any system, and succeeded in getting Neale down.

54.—The execution of Neale was not so severe as in the early part of the battle; and his left hand was open. In closing, Baldwin obtained the fall.

55.—Each trying for the best; stopping and hitting until both down.

56.—Neale appeared angry, and did not deliver his blows so steadily as heretofore. In closing, Baldwin found himself on the turf.

57.—The left hand of Neale was a little puffed, but he planted his right severely. Both down.

58.—Bob now stood higher in the opinions of the spectators; his strength was not so much reduced as might have been expected; but high odds were still offered on Neale. In closing, both down, and both weak.

59.—Baldwin certainly appeared better, and did not pipe so much as he had done in several of the preceding rounds. Neale went to work right and left, Bob endeavouring to be with him, but Ned obtained the throw.

60.—Bob left all system out of the case, and hit in all directions. Exchanges, when Bob, in closing, almost pinned Ned to the ground by superior strength.

61.—Counter-hits, Baldwin soon down.

62.—The right of Neale told: but with his left he could not do any execution. Bob went down from a slight hit.

63.—Baldwin crept into favour with the spectators this round, by the game he displayed, and his determined mode of fighting. Ned made play, but Bob was with him; and some smart exchanges took place. In closing, after a severe struggle, Bob got his opponent down.

64.—Bob, revived by a nip of _eau-de-vie_, planted his right well; but Ned countered, and mischief was done on both sides. Bob pushed on his luck, and boring in, laid hold of Neale by the neck, and in a severe struggle for the fall the Streatham hero received a dangerous twist, and fell in a singular manner. Ned was quite abroad for a few seconds. Dick Curtis exclaimed, “We have won it!” The anxiety of the spectators was intense; but Ned revived, and was ready at the scratch when time was called.

65.—Neale was distressed by the late fall, but he began his work well. Some sharp counter-hits. In closing, Bob again tried for the throw, but he was not so successful. Neale punished Baldwin as he was going down.

66.—The White-headed One was kept on the alert by his admirable little second, Curtis, and slashed away like a good one. Had his distances been anything like correct at this juncture, he had yet a chance of winning. In closing, Neale was again thrown, and he told Harry Holt “to take care of his neck” as he was picking him up.

67.—Baldwin was quite alive to the position, and neglected no opportunity to turn it to account. He again kept Neale on the bustle, caught the latter round the tender place on his neck, and obtained the throw. (“Bravo, Bob! you’ll win it now, if you mind what you are at!”)

68.—Neale still distressed; Bob to all appearance the stronger man. The White-headed Blade now thought the bustling mode to be successful, and tried it on at once. Neale fearlessly met him. In closing, Baldwin squeezed his opponent, got him down, and fell on him. (“Why, Bobby,” said Curtis, “you have found out the way at last. You are doing the trick.”)

69.—Neale commenced milling. In closing, Bob’s strength enabled him again to get the fall. At this moment a great bustle was heard on one side of the ring, and a cry of, “The beak! the beak!” An elderly, pale-faced gentleman in black was observed making his way for the ring. He proclaimed himself a magistrate, and called upon all parties to desist. The smooth-tongued blades of the Fancy tried all their eloquence to appease the wrath of the beak, by stating to him what a pity it would be, at such an interesting period, to put a stop to the event, which, as a matter of course, an hour having elapsed, would end of itself in the course of a few minutes.

70.—During the argument time was called, and the men appeared at the scratch. Neale was ready, and Bob equally so—no flinching, until Baldwin was floored.

71.—Neale rallied himself, and went to work with considerable spirit; Baldwin attacked his adversary wildly. Both down.

72.—The beak endeavoured to break through the crowd to get at the combatants, but he could not. Hitting away on both sides, but Neale now and then jobbing the nob of his adversary. In closing, both down.

73.—(“Now’s the time,” said the Pet to Bob; “go to work, hit steady with your right hand, and you can’t lose it.” “What nonsense!” replied Hudson; “how can you mislead the poor fellow so!”) Both on their mettle, and several blows were exchanged. In closing, Baldwin obtained the throw.

74.—The rounds were now very short. Baldwin bustling, while Neale was endeavouring to catch him as he was coming in. Both down, Neale undermost.

75.—Exerting themselves like brave men, regardless of danger, until both of them fell out of the ropes.

76.—Neale successively planted three jobbing hits; nevertheless, Bob returned to the attack undismayed. In closing, Baldwin pulled down his adversary.

77.—Counter-hits, and a good round altogether, until both went down, Baldwin uppermost.

78.—The fight had materially changed. Bob, who, in the early part of the battle, in the opinion of nearly all the spectators, had no chance of success, was viewed with a different eye. Neale’s left hand was of little use to him. Both down.

79.—Neale took the lead, and planted his right and left. Baldwin fell on his knees.

80.—Counter-hits, but not heavy enough to put a finish to the battle. In closing, both down, Neale undermost.

81.—(The disinterested part of the ring—those persons who had not a copper on the event seemed to think that it was anybody’s battle.) Neale, always ready, went to work; Bob, on the bustle, endeavoured to be with him. In closing, both down, Neale undermost.

82.—Neale hit with his left hand half open, then planted a facer with his right. Baldwin, still wild, but determined, endeavoured to return. His distance as heretofore proved incorrect. He rushed into a close, when both fell.

83.—Neale had not lost his gaiety, and tried to administer punishment. In closing, the struggle was desperate for the throw; after a severe encounter, Bob was uppermost. Both men much distressed.

84, and last.—Baldwin at the scratch, and Neale also ready to the call of “time.” Both combatants went to work without hesitation. Some sharp hits were exchanged, when both men went down in the corner of the ring, close to the magistrate. One hour and a quarter had elapsed.

His worship now waxed angry at the want of attention paid to his authority, exclaiming, in a peremptory tone of voice, “I’ll endure this no longer!” Laying hold of the arm of Josh Hudson, he told Harry Holt of the consequences which must result to the whole of them, if they did not put an end to the battle. Hudson, obedient to the law, resigned his situation as second, when an amateur rushed into the ring and gave his knee to Neale. The magistrate then spoke to Neale and Baldwin, and observed that he had been sent for by a gentleman in the neighbourhood, to interfere and put a stop to the fight: that he entertained no hostility against any person present, and if they immediately quitted the ring peaceably, he should take no further notice of what had occurred. “If the battle is continued,” said he, raising his voice, “the combatants, seconds, and every individual present aiding and assisting must take the consequences.” The magistrate, however, good-naturedly acknowledged that he had met with more civility and attention than he could have expected from such a multitude. His worship then retired from the scene of action, amidst loud cheers from the spectators.

Further opposition was voted imprudent, and hostilities ceased. Bob and Ned shook hands together, left the ring, and walked to their vehicles. The reporter asked Baldwin how he felt, when he emphatically replied, “What should be the matter with me?” It was thought advisable by the friends of both parties that the combatants should return to Bagshot, and be put to bed.

It was not to be supposed that the question of superiority would remain thus undecided between two such courageous and well-matched men; so, after some little debate upon the “draw,” consequent on magisterial interference, they agreed to add £50 a-side to the stakes, and to meet once more—the time the 28th of May, 1828, the place No Man’s Land, in Hertfordshire. How gallantly Neale fell, after a desperate battle of sixty-six rounds in seventy-one minutes, may be read in Chapter VII. of this volume.

Neale’s friends and admirers did not desert him in defeat. At Neale’s benefit at the Tennis Court, on the 21st of July, 1828, at which Tom Spring, Peter Crawley, Holt, Curtis, and the leading men appeared, a silver cup of the value of 100 guineas was presented by Pierce Egan as a testimonial of his “bravery, honour, and incorruptible integrity.” This trophy for many years formed one of the treasures of the “Rose and Crown.”

Reuben Marten now proposed to back John Nicholls for £100 a-side against Neale, and the cartel being accepted, the match was made off-hand, at Marten’s house, the “City of London,” Berwick Street, Soho. The deposits were duly made until £60 was down, when Nicholls’s backers were absent, but Neale waived the forfeit, and generously agreed to take £25 when the fight should come off; £50 being promised by a gentleman, a backer of Nicholls, for the fight to take place on his estate. We note this, as on another occasion, with Baldwin, Neale waived his claim to forfeit when £170 was down.

The day was fixed for the 23rd September, 1828, the place Fisher Street, in Sussex. Nicholls—a fine, powerful young man, whose recent victory over Dick Acton, a pugilist thought good enough to be matched against Jem Ward and Peter Crawley, had raised him by a jump to the pinnacle of fame—had good friends. The sporting men of London, however, did not believe in a comparative novice being pitted against the victor of a dozen battles, and seven to four was laid at the “Castle,” “Queen’s Head,” and “King’s Arms,” on the Streatham champion.

On Tuesday morning Guildford, Godalming, and the villages near the scene of action were all alive, the amateurs having left London overnight. An immense cavalcade was soon on the move towards Fisher Street, where, at the Royal Cylinder Works, the property of Mr. Stovell, preparations had been made from an early hour. Banners were displayed, two military bands, and six small pieces of cannon in a turf battery were discharged occasionally, and a general rustic merry-making, more like a fair than the preliminaries of a fight, was going on. Tables and forms, with eatables and drinkables, were provided gratuitously for certain visitors within the houses and factory of Mr. Stovell. In an enclosed piece of ground a twenty-four feet ring of turf, laid and levelled, was roped in, with seats for the umpires and referee. At a distance of twelve feet a roped circle kept back the spectators, while round all was a double line of wagons, the inner ones sunk in the ground by holes dug as deep as their axletrees, the outer line being on the level of the field. The ground was kept by 150 stout countrymen with staves, in white smocks, with blue ribands in their hats, marshalled by the indefatigable Mr. Stovell.

At eleven o’clock a curious procession approached. Reuben Marten and Nicholls, in a light two-wheeler, followed by some friends, were succeeded by Neale in a barouche, in which were seated Tom Spring and Harry Holt, the “ribands” handled by Will Scarlett, the renowned “dragsman.” The men were accommodated with separate apartments in Mr. Stovell’s house till the hour of battle arrived.

At ten minutes past one Nicholls dropped his hat within the ropes, and Neale immediately followed his example. Neale was attended by Tom Spring and Harry Holt, Nicholls by Jem Ward and Reuben Marten. Nicholls won the toss for corners, and both men sported true blue for their colours.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Nicholls justified the report of his superior personal requisites. He stood nearly two inches over Neale, and his weight, thirteen stone four pounds, was well and evenly distributed. He was indeed the model of an athlete. Neale, whose weight was twelve stone four pounds, looked hard, brown, and muscular, and well capable of a long day’s work. Great caution on both sides. The men stepped round and round each other, making feints, for full five minutes—the seconds of Nicholls advising him to use caution and let his man “come to him,” which Neale did not seem inclined to do. At last Nicholls sent out his right at Neale’s throat. It was short, for Neale jumped away. More tedious sparring and manœuvring, until both men seemed weary of holding up their hands, the young one most so. Neale, seeing a favourable opening, sprang forward, delivering a straight right-hander on his adversary’s collar-bone. It was intended doubtless for the side of his head, but fell lower from the superior height of his opponent. It was a terrific blow, and sounded like the crack of a pistol-shot, leaving a broad red mark, that soon after swelled, as a token of its force. A rally followed, in which Neale planted a heavy body blow with the right, and his left on Nicholls’s mouth, who returned on Neale’s head. Neale finished the round prettily by getting hold of his huge adversary and throwing him neatly from the hip. Immense applause from the Londoners.

2 to 12.—All similar in character. Neale drew his man and punished him for coming in, Neale now and then getting down to end the round.

13.—Nicholls, finding himself out-manœuvred, rushed in ding-dong. Neale met him coolly, and actually sent him off his legs. (“It’s all U P,” cried Ned Stockman. “Who’ll take two to one?”)

14 to 17.—In every round Neale made his right and left tell with effect, getting away or stopping the return, until poor Nicholls was a pitiful spectacle. In the sixteenth and seventeenth rounds Neale sent Nicholls down with a straight left-hander. Cries of “Take him away.”

18, and last.—Nicholls tried to get in at his man, but was literally hit out right and left. Neale closed and threw his man heavily. Jem Ward stepped forward and said his man should fight no more, and Neale, stepping up to the umpires and referee, was told he was the conqueror.

REMARKS.—This one-sided affair hardly calls for comment. It merely adds one more instance to the innumerable proofs that mere strength and courage are more than balanced by the skill, readiness, and precision of the practised master of the science of defence.

Roche, a publican of Exeter, whose provincial reputation as a wrestler was higher than his boxing capabilities, was matched by his overweening friends against Neale. The preliminaries duly arranged; the stakes, £100 a-side, made good; and the day fixed for the 2nd December, 1828; the men met on the North Chapel Cricket Ground, Sussex, forty-four miles from London by road. Neale trained at Milford, in Surrey, and there, it afterwards came out, he was “interviewed,” as modern reporters would style it, by an envoy from Roche’s party, who offered to secure to him £500 to lose the fight, and a further sum of two hundred if he would give in under fifty minutes. All this Neale communicated to his backers; and so well was the secret kept that a double defeat awaited the “Knights of the x,” in the disgrace of their champion and the depletion of their pockets. Had the countermine been discovered, the defeated Devonian declared, “all the King’s horses” should not have drawn him into the ring. In order yet further to keep up the “fool’s paradise” into which these bucolic knaves delivered themselves, the emissary presented Neale with a new suit of clothes and £18 “earnest money,” keeping £2 for commission; and on the very morning of the battle he added £8 out of £10 entrusted to him for the same nefarious purpose. The “cross coves,” assured that all was right, freely backed their man, and were not aware of the mine until it burst beneath their feet, scattering to the wind their hopes and calculations. Roche, who had come up to London, finished his training at the renowned Johnny Gilpin’s house, the “Bell,” at Edmonton, then a charming rural retreat, with its flower and tea gardens; now a well-accustomed modern ginshop, resplendent in gilding, gas, and plate glass, and belted in with brick, mortar, and shops.

Roche, who reached Godalming overnight, set out a little before twelve in a barouche; while Neale, in a four-horse drag, started from Milford, and soon overtook him on the road. Tom Spring, the “Portsmouth Dragsman,” Harry Holt, and other friends, were on the roof of Neale’s coach, and were first on the ground. Roche soon after alighted, under the care of Ben Burn and young Dutch Sam, who were engaged as his seconds. His colours were a light blue, Neale’s a dark blue bird’s-eye. The toss for corners was won by Harry Holt for Neale, who was also waited on by Tom Spring. As the men stood up, the contrast was striking. Roche, who stood nearly six feet, weighed, it was reported, fourteen stone. His advantages in weight and length, however, were fully counterbalanced by his apparent age and staleness. His superfluous meat hung in collops over the belt of his drawers, and he was altogether soft and flabby. The Streatham man, _au contraire_, looked bright, sinewy, fresh, and active, though he had trained rather lighter than on some former occasions, weighing twelve stone two pounds. The umpires and referee having been chosen, the men stood up, at ten minutes to one, for

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—As Roche held up his arms and moved half round to face the movements of Neale, he betrayed the yokel in every move. The Streatham hero eyed him with satisfaction, and walked round him with his hands well up. Roche flourished his long arms awkwardly, with no particular object but defence, and as soon as Neale saw an opening in he dashed, delivered with his left a half-arm hit on Roche’s eye, following it by such a tremendous bodier with the right that down went the mighty wrestler on the broad of his back, amid the shouts of the Londoners, the long faces of the provincials, and the consternation of the “ready-made luck” division, who were utterly dumbfounded at such a commencement. As Roche was picked up and taken to his corner he looked towards Neale with a mixture of surprise and reproach, as if to say, “Is this the way I am to be served?”

2.—A repetition of Round 1. Roche made play awkwardly; Neale retreated and shifted, stopping him cleverly. At length he in turn stepped in, delivered his one, two, cuttingly, and down went the Devonian. Roche was evidently remonstrating with his seconds in his corner, while his friends of the + division were running about frantically, hedging their bets if they could.

3.—This round only differed from the two preceding in the fact that, after some exchanges, in which the balance was all in favour of Neale, the latter suddenly closed, and giving Roche his leg, clearly threw the wrestler, amid the shouts of the Londoners and the astonished silence of the men from the “West Countrie.”

4, 5, and 6.—Ditto, ditto, ditto. Roche tried, however, a little up-hill fighting, and hit Neale twice or thrice, but with little effect, while Ned’s left-handers operated like kicks of a horse. (£100 to £10 on Neale offered.)

7.—In a bustling exchange Ned sent his left obliquely over Roche’s shoulder, who instantly clutched him, and endeavoured to bear him down. To the surprise of all Ned fairly lifted his ponderous adversary, and sent him down heavily by the back-heel, falling on him. (Utter dismay among the Devonians, and uproarious joy among the regular ring-goers. Ten to one going begging.)

It would be a mere waste of space to detail further the ensuing rounds, which went on up to the 30th. Roche, however, cut up game, and manfully did his best when he found how he was “sold” by his friends, who were themselves deservedly “sold” in turn. In Round 29, Ned being called upon by Spring to “put on the final polish,” went and delivered a left jobbing hit; Roche shifted, and in returning got Ned by the neck, under his arm, and fairly lifted him off the ground. Neale was for a few seconds in a critical position, but Roche, as he hung his weight on him, did not know what to do with him, and instead of being severely fibbed Ned got down cleverly, to the great relief of his anxious friends.

30, and last.—Neale broke ground cautiously, but confidently, making play with both hands, first delivering on the head and following it with a body blow, in the coolest and most workman-like manner, Roche “standing it like a lamb,” as one of his backers bitterly remarked. Neale after following him round the ring, at length caught him a straight one on the nose, then a flush hit on the mouth, and Roche went down on his back, Neale falling over him. When Roche was in his corner there seemed to be a sort of conference, when Ned walked across and assured Roche that he “meant to win and no mistake, so he might go on if he liked.” This plain hint was duly appreciated, and Roche declared he would “fight no more.” Time, thirty minutes.

REMARKS.—A less accomplished fighter than Roche never stripped to contend with so tried a boxer as Ned Neale. Independent of heavy slowness, his ideas of defence and stopping were of the clumsiest and most puerile description. Though no doubt superior to Ned as a mere wrestler, even in this he was taken by surprise and signally overthrown. Great pains were taken to circulate stories of the strength and prowess of Roche, to cover the arranged defeat of Neale, as the vanquished man afterwards confessed. There is no doubt that Roche first issued his challenge inconsiderately, and, from an undue estimate of his own boxing capabilities; but that his confidence was based upon the information that he was to have an easy victory, all matters being made smooth for the result. Poor Roche, in truth, was a mere tool in the affair, and paid the penalty of his presumption and credulity.

Neale returned to the Swan Inn to dress, and after his ablutions met a party of friends from Portsmouth at dinner, his features being without a scratch. In the afternoon his “caravan” set out, decorated with blue and white favours, and accompanied a pair of Kentish-keyed bugles—the predecessors of our modern cornets-à-piston—on a drive through the villages, amid the cheers of the multitude, to Milford, where, on reaching his training quarters, he found the house ornamented with blue and white bunting, and bannerets of blue and white ribbons, with mine host Mandeville at the door, his old wrinkled face cracking like a mealy potato as he announced dinner number two, which was prepared in his spacious and convenient club-room. A score of smiling friends welcomed the victor, and Ned’s health was drunk with enthusiasm. Neale declared, in returning thanks, that “he was never happier, and hoped he had convinced his friends that he would not deceive them, as honour was dearer to him than money. He had punished those who would have had him rob those to whom he owed his fame and good name, and to deceive those who meant wrong he considered both fair and honest.”

Far different was the case with poor Roche. After being taken back to his inn and bled—for which one of his chapfallen backers tendered the operator a shilling—he was deserted, and but for one friend might have been almost penniless. That the downfal of the “clever ones” was signal was manifest, and those country friends whom they “let into the secret” were loud in their protestations of the whole affair being “a fluke.” Two or three London houses used by the conspirators, which had prepared illuminations in honour of the “certainty,” were conspicuous for their total eclipse when the real news arrived.

Neale and Roche showed on the following Thursday, at Harry Holt’s benefit, Roche exhibiting heavy marks of head punishment, while Neale had not a scratch.

With the close of 1828 came our hero’s retirement from the P. R., and it is to be regretted that mine host of the “Rose and Crown”—for he had now settled down as Boniface in the pleasant village of Norwood, then celebrated for its rurality and gipsy encampments—did not adhere to this resolution; but it was not to be. Some taunting words of a very “fast” young boxer, Young Dutch Sam, led to Neale’s acceptance of his challenge for £100 a-side. The fight came off at Ludlow, April 7th, 1829, and after a gallant struggle of seventy-one rounds, in one hour and forty-one minutes, Neale succumbed to his youthful and scientific opponent. Dissatisfied with the issue, Neale lost no time in challenging Young Sam to a second encounter, which, after an arrest of Neale and a postponement, came off near Bumpstead, in Essex, on the 18th of January, 1831. Here the result was again defeat, this time in fifty-two minutes and fourteen rounds. It was clear that Neale’s best days had gone by.

Prompted by courage rather than prudence, he made yet one more appearance in the P. R. It was with an early opponent, Tom Gaynor (See LIFE OF GAYNOR, Chap. IX., _post_), and here again he had miscalculated his energies, succumbing after a gallant battle of 111 minutes, during which forty-five rounds were contested.

The fistic career of Ned Neale thus closed, as with so many other athletes, in defeat. Yet he retired with his laurels unsullied, his character for courage and honesty unsmirched; and respected by all who knew him, he shuffled off “this mortal coil” at the “Rose and Crown,” Norwood, near the place of his birth, on the 15th of November, 1846.