CHAPTER IX.

HARRY BROOME (CHAMPION).

1843-1856.

Harry Broome, a younger brother of the renowned Johnny, was born in the “hardware town,” which has given so many of its best pugilists to the modern Ring, that Birmingham early rivalled, and afterwards eclipsed, the fame of Bristol as the birthplace of boxers. The subject of this memoir, who first saw the light in 1826, was a mere boy at the time when his elder brother had fought his way to “the topmost round of fortune’s ladder”――Broome’s ultimate victory, that over Bungaree, the Australian, being achieved in April, 1842, when Harry had not yet counted sixteen summers. At that time Johnny had already married, and settled as host of a well-accustomed tavern――to wit, “The Rising Sun,” in Air Street, Piccadilly, where his shrewdness, activity, and enterprise had transformed the short avenue from Piccadilly to Regent Street into a “high change” of sporting; a very Rialto of the Ring, where patrons and practitioners of the Noble Art “most did congregate.” The sparring saloon at “The Rising Sun,” at this period, was the arena for the display of the best fistic talent of the Metropolis; and here, at the age of sixteen, we first saw the aspiring youngster――a lithe, smooth-skinned, active stripling, very boyish in look, standing 5 feet 8 inches, and weighing 9 st. 7 lbs.――put on the mittens, and make a most creditable “private trial” with the well-known Byng Stocks, of Westminster. Stocks, despite his 11 stone and experience, by no means had the best of the mimic mill, though once or twice urged by the delighted “Johnny” “Not to spare the young ’un because he was his brother.” This promising _début_ was followed by several favourable public displays; and within a few months not a few of the best judges were of opinion that, barring all question of breed and blood, a new and formidable aspirant for the middle-weight Championship would be found in Young Broome, when a year or two should have hardened the gristle into bone, and manhood had consolidated the muscle and set the frame of the future gladiator. And so some months rolled on; a glove-fight, in which Harry disposed of Mitchell, a 10-stone outsider, for a £5 note, being a mere _coup d’essai_, got up by a few aristocratic visitors of “The Rising Sun,” of which Harry was the rising star.

As we have already said, Johnny Broome at this time filled a large space in the eye of the sporting world, and young Harry, emulous of the fistic fame of his elder brother, with a strong family instinct for fighting, was most importunate with Johnny to let him try his “prentice han’” in combat with some suitable antagonist. Johnny, however, did not choose to lower the dignity of the name of Broome by allowing Harry to strip for “a purse” with any novice; nor would he hear of a match with any “commoner” or “outsider,” for a five, ten, or twenty-five pound stake. He would back Harry for £50, or not at all.

At this time there was a strong jealousy, not to say envy, of the position earned by Johnny in Ring affairs, and more than once did we hear a wish expressed by East-enders and others, that “somebody” would “take the shine out of these upstart Brums.” Accordingly, when it was made known, in September, 1843, that “Young Harry” was ready for a “customer” for £50, they put on their considering caps, and Fred Mason (the Bulldog), standing idle in the market-place, was asked what he thought of the young “ten-stunner?”

Mason, who had, among others, twice beaten Bill Jones, after desperate battles, in which he earned his formidable nickname, received a sort of certificate from Johnny Walker (by whom he had been beaten) that he was just the man to achieve the desired object, if he could raise the half-hundred. At a council held at “The Grapes,” in Aylesbury Street, Clerkenwell, it was decided that the “needful” should be posted, and the cartel accepted. The articles proposed Tuesday, the 10th of October 1843, but subsequently Broome objected to this, as on that day the Cesarewitch would be run, at Newmarket, and several of Harry’s best friends, who were anxious to see his “first appearance,” would be unable to be present. It was accordingly postponed to Wednesday, the 11th. By mutual agreement “The Nymph” steamer was engaged by the two Johnnies (Broome and Walker) for the mutual advantage of the men, and to disburse their training and other expenses. All went smoothly. “The Nymph,” at the appointed hour of eight, got under weigh from Hungerford Market, with a goodly freight of West-enders; then she took in a large company at Old Swan Stairs, London Bridge, while the “Sages of the East” came on board at Brunswick Pier, Blackwall, in increased numbers. Thence she steamed down stream with pleasant speed (with the unwelcome convoy of a trio of crowded tugs), until she came to Long Reach, where, between Dartford and Northfleet, in a meadow distant from all human habitation, it was determined to land. This operation was performed amidst an aqueous downpour, which drenched all the row-boats and their occupants, except those who were clad in waterproof garments. The Commissary lost no time in forming the lists, immediately within the sea wall, upon an excellent piece of turf, and, despite the rattling shower, which increased rather than diminished, accomplished his task in a workmanlike manner. The stools and benches of the steamer were, as usual, transferred to the shore for the accommodation of the “Corinthians,” of whom there were many present, and a most acceptable save-all they proved; nevertheless the great majority had to grin the storm out of countenance; and amidst a perfect deluge, at twelve o’clock the combatants and their seconds made their _salaams_――the Bulldog under the care of Jem Turner and Jemmy Shaw; Broome waited upon by Levi Eckersley and Tom Maley.

Little time was lost in encircling the stakes with their fogles――white and blue spot for the Bulldog, and blue and white spot for Broome. Both were as cheerful as if pirouetting in the Lowther Rooms. Happily, before business commenced the storm somewhat abated, and the weather became comparatively fine, although occasional slantindicular visitations from the upper regions proved that the only thing settled was the unsettled state of the weather. Young Harry’s “first appearance” was prepossessing. He entered the ring, after dropping in his cap, with a modest bow, and a smile or nod of recognition to several acquaintances, and at once steadily proceeded to divest himself of his upper clothing. “He is a fine young fellow,” says a contemporary report, “only eighteen years of age, standing 5 feet 9 inches, and weighing 10st. 2lbs. (he was limited by virtue of the articles to 9st. 3lbs.), and evidently in first-rate condition, not an ounce of superfluous flesh being visible, and his form as active, alert, and springy as a greyhound.” Of his milling qualifications of course no one had as yet any opportunity of judging, so that he was scanned with all the curiosity with which men examine a “dark horse.” The “Bulldog” also looked in robust health, but he struck us as being too fleshy; and, added to this, it could not but be felt that he was rather stale, not only from the free life he had led, but from his repeated battles, in which he sustained no small quantum of punishment, and especially in his fight with Johnny Walker, who, however, expressed the greatest confidence in his powers. His weight, we should say, was at least 9st. 10lbs., and in length he was full two inches shorter than Broome. His rushing and fearless character of fighting gained for him the sobriquet of “Bulldog,” and his courage further entitled him to this canine distinction.

The officials being nominated, offers were made to take 7 to 4, 6 to 4, and ultimately 5 to 4; but the Broomites were cautious, although, taking youth, length, and weight into consideration, he was certainly entitled to be backed at odds. Doubts as to his qualities were, however, still to be satisfied, and the speculators were shy of investing.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Precisely at twelve minutes to twelve the men were delivered at the scratch, neither displaying the slightest nervousness, and both looking jolly and determined on mischief. No time was lost; Broome led off with his left, but the Bulldog stopped and got away quickly. Bulldog now advanced to the charge left and right, and got home on Broome’s nose and left eyebrow. Broome, not idle, returned prettily, when the Bull rushed in, closed, and, after slight fibbing, finding Broome too strong, got down, amidst the vociferous cheers of his friends.

2.――Broome, nothing daunted, was quick to the scratch, and led off left and right, the Bulldog hitting with him; a sharp rally, and heavy hits exchanged, in which Broome had it on the smeller, and his cork was drawn. (First blood for “Bully.”) A close at the ropes, in which Broome tried for the fall, but Mason held his legs too wide apart, and the crook could not be got. Broome forced him on the ropes, and there held him as if in a vice――his own nose dropping the crimson fluid. Bully struggled to get loose, but Broome grappled him closer. Mutual attempts at fibbing――when, after an ineffectual trial on the part of Broome for the fall, Mason got down besmeared with his opponent’s claret, and pinked on his left cheek. Broome showed a slight cut on the left eyebrow as well as the tap on the snout.

3.――Broome opened the ball without hesitation, and caught Bully on the mouth, lifting the bark from his nether lip. A short pause, when Broome again went to work left and right, but Mason got away; Mason hit out of distance. A rally, in which Broome followed his man to the ropes, hitting left and right; while at the ropes Broome let go his right, and catching Bully on the temple he dropped, but looked up smiling.

4.――Broome popped in his left slightly on Bully’s cheek; tried it again, but the blow passed over his shoulder. Mason rushed in left and right, closed, and tried to fib; Broome, however, proved the stronger man, grappled him against the stake, and, after some in-fighting, in which Mason got a crack over the larboard cheek, he contrived to pull Broome down.

5.――Mason displayed a mouse under each eye, and came slow to the scratch. Broome hit short with the left, and Bully did ditto. Exchanges left and right, and a close at the ropes. Broome hung on the neck of Mason, which lay across the ropes, but was unable to get the look for the fall; at last both were down, Broome having had the best of the round.

6.――Broome, as lively as a kitten, let fly his left, and caught Bully on the mug, repeating a smack on the body with the same hand. Mason tried his right, only tapping Broome’s shoulder. Counter-hits with the left, both napping it on the muzzle. A short rally, followed by a close, in which Broome slipped down.

7.――Broome tried his left and right, but was stopped; he was not, however to be denied; he again rattled in in the same style, nailed Mason with both hands, and gave him the upper-cut with the right. Heavy exchanges, Mason fighting rather wild. In the close Bully down, having all the worst of the milling.

8.――Broome led off quickly with his left, and nailed his man on the cheek. A pause for wind, when Broome again commenced operations. Heavy counter-hitting left and right, and a spirited rally, in which the exchanges were severe. Broome closed for the fall, but Mason dropped on his knees.

9.――Hits left and right attempted, but both short. Bully’s left neatly stopped, when Broome delivered a rattler with his right on the body, and on the cheek with his left. Good counter-hitting with the left; a close at the ropes, and Mason caught Broome round the neck over the ropes, but the latter slipped down.

10.――Mason, short with his left, retreated, and sparred for wind. Slow fighting on both sides. They at length got to work left and right, and heavy muggers were exchanged. A close for the throw, but Mason got down, Broome on him.

11.――The Young’un popped in his left prettily on Bully’s muzzle. Mason fought wildly and hit short. Broome rushed to him and closed, but Bully was not to be had at that game, and fell.

12.――Good outfighting on both sides, left and right, and heavy exchanges. Broome popped in his right heavily, and as Mason was staggering hit him beautifully down with his right. In the counter-hits Broome had received a nasty crack on his smeller, which bled profusely. (First knock-down for Broome.)

13.――Harry, as usual, led off left and right; Mason rushed to a close, and they reached the ropes, where Broome, with his arm round Mason’s neck, hung on him, till at last Mason got back and fell, Broome over him.

14.――Broome popped in left and right in splendid style, repeating the dose with the left on the head, and the right on the body. Mason closed, but, finding Broome too strong for him, dropped on one knee with both hands up. Broome, although entitled to hit, left him. (Applause.)

15.――Broome again led off with his left. Mason short and wild in his returns. Broome steady, and again delivered his left, drawing additional claret. A close at the ropes; more squeezing on the part of Broome, and Mason got down, apparently fagged.

16.――The Bulldog slow to the scratch; counter-hitting with the left, ditto with the right. In the close Mason down again on one knee, but Broome once more retired without taking advantage of the opportunity offered.

17.――A good weaving rally, in which the hitting was tremendous, and, after mutual compliments, in the close Mason dropped on his knees. (Mason’s seconds now called for brandy.)

18.――Mason slow in going to the scratch. Broome rattled to him left and right, catching him a severe nozzler. Bully made a desperate rush, and heavy counter-hits were exchanged. A lively rally followed, in which mutual compliments were paid, and the dripping claret proved that both had been heavily hit. In the close, after a severe struggle on the part of Broome to obtain the fall, Mason dropped on one knee, and Broome walked away, exhibiting heavy marks of punishment. Mason was likewise severely mauled, and his left eye was fast closing.

19.――Each regarded the other with mutual good will. Broome bleeding at the mouth and nose, but still steady and self-possessed. He led off with the left, but was prettily stopped. Counter-hits on each side missed, when Broome closed, caught Mason round the neck, and hung on him at the ropes till he got down, amidst loud shouts of disapprobation from Bully’s friends.

20.――Broome led off with his left, and again nailed Mason on the left eye. Mason closed, when the Young’un suddenly disentangled himself, stepped back, gave Mason the upper cut with his right, followed by a neat slap with his left, when Master Fred slipped down.

21.――Broome led off left and right; closed, again caught Mason round the neck, hanging upon him across the ropes until he fell.

22.――Mason somewhat slow to the scratch, across which Broome stepped, and led off left and right. Bully let fly wildly left and right, when Broome once more closed, flung him across the ropes, and squeezed him as if his neck were in a vice, amidst repeated shouts of disapprobation. Jack Sheppard, urged by the impatience of some of Mason’s friends, ran with a knife to cut the ropes, but luckily his man slipped down, and thereby prevented an act which would have been highly imprudent, inasmuch as the ring would have thereby been destroyed; and however unseemly such a style of fighting might appear, it was not inconsistent with any fixed rule of the Ring.

23.――Broome delivered a heavy hit with his left on Mason’s body; Mason short in the return, and, after some wild exchanges, Bully dropped on his knees.

24.――Counter-hitting with the left; a close, and, after some slight fibbing, Mason again dropped on his knees.

25.――Mason stopped Broome’s left, rushed to in-fighting left and right, then, missing his upper cut, got down.

26.――Mason’s left eye all but gone, and Broome’s mug showing sundry marks of severe deliveries. A desperate rally, both having made up their minds to mischief. Heavy exchanges left and right, followed by a close at the ropes, at which Mason once more dropped on one knee, but Broome still refrained from hitting.

27.――Counter-hits with the left, Broome catching it heavily on the nose. A slashing rally, in which heavy right-handed hits were exchanged till Mason fell on his knees, both bleeding profusely.

28.――Both men cautious. Broome in with his left, and Mason short in his return. Heavy counter-hitting. Bully receiving a finishing smack from the right on his left eye, which was completely closed. Broome grappled for the fall, seized Mason by the neck, and hung upon him until he brought him down upon his nose.

29.――Counter-hits with the left, followed by a close, in which Mason attempted to get down, but Broome held him by the neck under his arm, and tried to lift him from the ropes, until he fell, amidst shouts of disapprobation.

30.――Mason led off short, when Broome steadied himself and popped in a terrific hit with his left on the cheek. Counter-hits left and right followed, Mason fighting wildly. In the close Broome again hung on his man till he extricated himself from his painful position, and in getting away Broome fell heavily upon him.

31.――Mason getting slower. Counter-hitting with the left and exchanges with the right, in which Bully delivered heavily. In the close Mason dropped on his knees.

32.――A rattling exchange of hits; a close at the ropes, and Mason got down, amidst the cheers of his friends. Broome rather groggy from the heavy deliveries in the last round, and the brandy-bottle on his side in requisition.

33 and 34.――Short and merry rallies, in both of which compliments were exchanged, and Mason got down on his knees.

35.――Broome delivered two heavy lunging hits with his left at the body; a rally and heavy exchanges, when Broome caught his man in the corner and again grappled him round the neck with his arm as if in the folds of a boa constrictor. Here he held him for a considerable time, till Mason got each leg in succession over the ropes, and snatched his pimple out of chancery, as he rose making a desperate upper cut with his right, which he luckily missed, for had he struck his man when outside of the ropes, he would have lost the fight on the ground of foul play.

36.――Broome, although fatigued, came up with unshrinking spirit. Heavy counter-hits with the left, when Mason overreached himself, missed, and fell.

37.――Mason evidently less confident. He was slow to the call of time, while Broome rushed to his work, hit out left and right, bored his man to the ropes, and again clasped him in his vice till he fell.

38.――Broome, apparently regaining fresh energy, the moment time was called rushed to his man, led off left and right, closed at the ropes, and, after some in-fighting, Mason got down, Broome falling over him, evidently with the intention of avoiding falling on him.

39.――Broome, becoming still gayer, got to work without delay, popped in a stinger at the body with his right, and after an exchange of facers, closed at the ropes. Mason struggled and fell back, Broome hitting with his right, and falling on him. It was now seen that Mason was satisfied, and after a short consultation with his friends, he declined proceeding with the contest, declaring that he felt he had no chance, for he could not get at his man, and his power of hitting was exhausted. At this time his left eye was completely bunged up, and his face, mouth, and nose were seriously contused; added to which he complained that both his hands were injured. Under these circumstances Johnny Walker saw it was in vain to protract the combat, and gave in on the part of Mason, who immediately stood up and shook hands with his opponent, who was proclaimed the conqueror, after fighting _one hour and twenty-one minutes_, greatly to the disappointment and vexation of many of Mason’s friends, who considered that he was still able to continue the mill, and probably make a turn in his favour. None, however, know so well where the shoe pinches as he who wears it, and Mason was sufficiently satisfied with the dressing he had received, without adding to its severity. On quitting the ring after being dressed, Broome was so elated with his success, that he threw three successive somersaults, thus proving that his strength and activity, at least, were unimpaired, although the disfigurement of his “dial” afforded pretty strong evidence of the severity of Mason’s hitting.

REMARKS.――The issue of this battle has placed Young Harry in a very creditable position, and proved him to possess the first of the requisites for a professor of pugilism――courage, combined with perfect self-possession and a fair share of science. He is quick on his legs, and possesses the happy knack of using both hands with vigour and effect. He never once lost the control over his own actions, and between the rounds nursed and husbanded his strength with the cunning and calmness of a veteran. He was always first on his legs on the call of time, and almost invariably led off with his left with precision and success. It is clear that he knows the use of his legs; and had not Bully known how to foil his intentions he would no doubt have shown him a quick way to his mother earth. If there was any fault to be found with his style of fighting, it was in his repeated hanging on his man at the ropes. It ought not to be forgotten, however, that Mason in the closes endeavoured to grapple him with no friendly intention, and to resist this he had recourse to an expedient which is anything but pleasant to the spectators. There is no law, however, against it, and he cannot, therefore, be blamed for following an example afforded him, not only by his own brother but by many men of long experience in the Ring. Taking him “all in all” his _début_ has been highly creditable, and we have no doubt, if not overmatched or overworked, he will become an ornament to the P.R. The Bulldog fought, we think, even better than on former occasions on which we have seen him engaged. He used his left more handily than it has been our good fortune to witness in his former contests, and his counter-hitting with that hand was extremely severe, while his slogging right told with stunning effect on young Harry’s mug. Of throwing he has but little knowledge, although he possesses sufficient tact to evade the exercise of that talent on the part of his antagonist. Like all old ones who have felt the sting of repeated punishment, he could not resist the influence of hard knocks; and the body and the mind concurring in the opinion that “enough was as good as a feast,” and deeming discretion the better part of valour, he left off while he yet possessed sufficient self-possession to enjoy the satisfaction of knowing that he might have been worse beaten without being better off.

All now sought the ark, there to obtain the “creature comforts” which had hitherto been withheld. To the men every possible attention was paid, and a liberal subscription was collected for the loser. The battle-money was given up to Young Broome, at his brother’s house, in Air Street, Piccadilly, on the Wednesday of the following week.

The “breed” of young Harry being thus satisfactorily proved, his more experienced brother determined that he should turn gristle into bone before he again “sported buff” in the 24-foot, and more than a twelve-month elapsed ere he made an appearance within the ropes. This was on December 10, 1845, when he was matched for £50 a side against Joe Rowe, a well known East-ender, of 10½st., whose victory over Cullen, in 1844, had raised him to a high position among the middle weights.

Mixed up with this encounter was a contemptible and ridiculous feud, provoked and maintained by certain East-enders, who, taking umbrage at what they considered the upstart assumption of Johnny Broome, and also prompted by bitter jealousy at his success with the better order of Ring patrons, sought by fair or by foul means to disparage the name of Broome, and to defeat the pretensions of his younger brother. We quote the contemporary report:――

“The unfortunate issue of the meeting is to be attributed to the gross irregularities and unjustifiable outrages of the parties assembled to witness the affray, who, regardless of all attempts to preserve an outer or even an inner ring, rushed close to the ropes and stakes, which were broken and levelled with the ground, and were at length reduced to such a state by the intrusion of the multitude that it was utterly impossible for the men to continue their contest; and the referee having withdrawn, both retired from a scene which, we regret to say, is but a repetition of similar misconduct in all parts of the country. This species of misconduct has more to do with the downfall of the Prize Ring than any other cause to which we can refer. We shall endeavour to describe the proceedings of the day, and must leave it to the members of the Ring itself who mean to preserve their ‘order’ to adopt some plan hereafter by which similar evils may be prevented.”

It must be borne in mind that by the articles neither of the men was to exceed 10st. 5lbs., and that they were to meet at Peter Crawley’s on the Monday for the purpose of going to scale. At Peter’s they did meet, and were each 1lb. within the stipulated figure, both looking remarkably well and equally confident. Rowe returned to his training-quarters, at Mitchell’s Green, about three miles from Greenhithe, Kent, and Harry Broome remained in London, to be prepared for his embarkation in the morning. The “Nymph,” Woolwich steamer, was patronised upon this occasion, as upon many former expeditions of a similar sort, and received on board a goodly muster of the friends of the men on Tuesday morning, at Hungerford, London Bridge, and Blackwall. She was not, however, without her opponents, and another large steamer named the “Nelson,” as well as the “William Gunston” tug-boat, by the cheapness of their fares, succeeded in obtaining a very extensive patronage from the “rough-and-ready” customers both from the East and the West, but more especially from the former, the great nursery of Rowe’s early pretensions.

Harry Broome embarked at Blackwall, and it was considerably after ten o’clock before the “Nymph” led the way to the field of battle, tardily followed by her two rivals, the “Nelson” having got aground under London Bridge, to the infinite terror of her passengers, who began to apprehend that they had invested their three “bobs” each without the chance of obtaining a view of the mill for their money. Luckily, however, they ultimately got off; and from the delay which took place in arranging the preliminaries for the battle, they arrived in time not only to reach the field, but to increase, and perhaps create, the confusion which subsequently prevailed. The marshes below Greenhithe were selected for the encounter, and here the Commissary executed his operations with his customary despatch. By twenty minutes after one the lists were prepared, but upwards of half an hour elapsed before the combatants made their appearance, and by this time more than 1,000 persons had assembled, including not only the crews of the flotilla, but a large accession from the inhabitants of the surrounding district, who, from Rowe’s training in the neighbourhood, and from the frequent visits of Peter Crawley and his friends, became fully apprised of the treat which was in store: a species of foreknowledge which likewise reached a magistrate in the neighbourhood, who, before the fight was half over, arrived on the ground accompanied by some dozen policemen. The impolicy of the men approaching the intended locality of their fight previous to the mill is manifest, and the present instance confirmed the justice of our remark. In this case, however, from the terrific confusion which prevailed, neither magistrate nor policemen ventured to get within the vortex, the chance of a broken head being infinitely more apparent than the probability of a respectful reception. His beakship, consequently, contented himself with directing his aides-de-camp to take down the names of as many active members of the P.R. as they could obtain.

We will now endeavour to describe, as well as the buffetings to which we were exposed will permit, “the mill,” its progress, and final interruption. Shortly before two o’clock Harry Broome and Rowe arrived at the ring; the former accompanied by his brother, Jack Hannan, and Sam Simmonds; the latter by Peter Crawley, Jem Turner, and Young Sambo. The ground was hard and the weather cold, but the breeze was somewhat tempered to the “shorn lambs,” and not quite so piercing as it had been the day before. The prospect of the commencement of business produced a great deal of bustle among the ring-keepers, who endeavoured to beat out those who had not paid for the privilege of the posts of honour; but this was found to be a task of no common difficulty; in fact, it was soon seen, from the conduct of the majority, that they were not persons disposed to be governed by the rules of courtesy or fair play. Among the betting fraternity Harry Broome had become the favourite, and was backed at 6 to 4, at which price he backed himself on board the boat on his passage down. As in the match between Maley and Merryman, Tom Spring was again persuaded to take upon him the office of referee――a kindness which he had much reason to regret, as the issue will show. All being in readiness, at the given signal the men were stripped of their upper crusts, and amidst the cheering exclamations of their respective partisans, shook hands and threw themselves into attitude. Their colours were, blue bird’s-eye for Rowe, and blue with a divided white spot, and the initials “H. B.” in the centre, for Broome.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――We have already described the condition of the men, and certainly on their stripping there was nothing to induce us to recall our judgment. Broome had a little the advantage in height and length, but whatever advantage he possessed in this respect was counterbalanced by the superior muscular development of his opponent. Broome smiled cheerfully, while Rowe displayed the steady phiz of “a sage from the East.” After a few dodges by way of feelers, Rowe tried his left twice in succession, but was stopped. Harry then led off with his left, catching Rowe slightly on the mouth. This brought them to a sharp rally, in which blows were exchanged. Broome popped in his left at the body, immediately closed, and succeeded in throwing his man.

2.――On coming up Broome rushed to his man, put in a slight blow on his mouth with the left, closed, and after a short struggle both were down.

3.――Harry led off with his left, which got home on Rowe’s whistler; slight exchanges to a close, when both were again down. (On Rowe reaching his corner, we fancied we discovered a tinge of blood on his lips.)

4.――Rowe, on going to the scratch after one or two feints, sent his left well home on Broome’s conk from which the purple fluid instantly flowed in profusion. Rowe again made his left, this time under Harry’s eye, from which the claret also spurted. They then rattled to a close, when some sharp in-fighting took place, Broome catching Rowe on the skull with his right, in a sort of round hit, which evidently injured the thumb-joint, as he shook it as a dog would his sore paw, and they fell together.

5.――On leaving his second’s knee Broome showed a slight mouse on his left eye, the effect of Rowe’s visitation in the last round. Both hit slightly together with the left, and came immediately to a rally, when some heavy exchanges left and right took place. They closed, struggled for the fall, and at length fell together, Broome under.

6.――The men instantly rushed to a close, and Broome got his man to the ropes, where they hung until they went down, Broome again under.

7.――Broome napped another crack on the left eye; ditto repeated; a close, a breakaway, hit for hit exchanged left and right, Broome making both fists tell on Joe’s body. They then closed, and both were down, Broome under.

8.――Broome jumped up with alacrity, rushed to his man, and attempted to plant his left, but was neatly stopped. This led to a rally, in which heavy hits were exchanged, Rowe catching it on the muzzle and Harry on the old spot under his left eye. They then closed, hung on the ropes, and both were again down. (The confusion outside the ring now became greater and greater. In vain did Cullen, Alec Reed, Young Reed, and others, use their sticks and whips on the nobs of the “roughs” who were pressing forward; they were not to be driven back. It was with the greatest difficulty the stakes and inner ring were preserved entire.)

9.――After a few dodges, Broome put in his left slightly on Joe’s body below the waistband. A claim of “foul” was instantly raised by Rowe’s partisans, who alleged that the blow had fallen below the waist. On Spring being appealed to he immediately decided “fair,” and the fight proceeded. The men went to work, counter-hits right and left were exchanged to a close, and Rowe got down.

10.――Broome again home on Rowe’s ’tato-trap, which increased in protuberance; counter-hits with the left, Broome catching it on the nose; body blows exchanged; counters left and right on the dial――a close, in which both were down. Broome on being picked up showed a cut over his left brow, from which the claret was coursing down in profusion.

11.――Heavy exchanges; Broome again caught a nasty one over his eye. He returned the compliment on Joe’s mouth. Body blows exchanged. A close, and both down, Broome under. The punishment in this round increased the flow of claret from the wounds of both, but they took it coolly, and came up smiling for the next round.

12.――This was a punishing round on the part of Broome, who had no sooner risen from his corner than he rushed to his man, put in two or three body blows, and then made his left and right on Rowe’s frontispiece. The latter made some slight returns, and Broome rushed in, caught Rowe in his arms, and hung upon him at the ropes until the latter went down――a game he pursued throughout the fight.

13.――The cheering and chaffing of the East-enders were deafening, and it was with difficulty the timekeepers made themselves heard. On reaching the scratch heavy counter-hits were exchanged left and right, Broome again experiencing the effect of Rowe’s left on his eye. They soon closed, struggled for the fall, and went down together.

14.――This round was similar to the last.

15.――Heavy in-fighting blows exchanged left and right, both on the mug and on the body, the hitting rather in favour of Broome. In the close both down.

16 and 17.――In these rounds the men rushed to in-fighting at once, and some stinging hits were made by each on the sore spots of the other. Broome’s left eye was observed to be fast closing. In the closes which terminated the rounds they fell together.

18.――Slight exchanges to a close, when Rowe was down, Broome alongside of him. Rowe’s mouth began to exhibit unmistakable evidence of Harry’s power of hitting, although, with the exception of the cuts on his lip, there was nothing particular the matter with his face. Indeed, the hitting on both sides seemed to have been directed almost entirely to particular spots――viz., Broome on Joe’s mouth, and the latter on Harry’s left eye and cheek.

19.――Rowe made his left slightly on Broome’s forehead. The latter then attempted his left, but was prettily stopped. In two other attempts he was more successful, as he put in his left twice, first on Joe’s mouth, and then on his smeller, from which, as well as his mouth, the claret began to exude. In the close Joe was down, Harry on him.

20.――The combatants quickly rushed to a close, and after a short struggle at the ropes, both went down together. (The noise and confusion were now becoming terrific. The spectators in the rear made a rush, the stake in Rowe’s corner was nearly forced from the ground, several other stakes were broken, and the bottom rope of the inner ring was completely trodden under foot. The pressure was so great in the corner where we sat that we were obliged to enter the inner ring, in order to be able to get a note of what was going on. There seemed among some of the lowest order of spectators to be a strong party feeling against Johnny Broome, for what cause it was impossible to tell, but they repeatedly called upon him to come in and fight himself, and charged him with acting foully, although we saw nothing of the kind in his conduct up to this, beyond his assisting the seconds in wiping his brother――an example which Crawley followed with Rowe.)

21 and 22.――Broome home with his left on Joe’s nose and mouth several times. Rowe’s returns were slight. In the latter round, however, Rowe succeeded in the close in forcing Broome over the ropes, and falling on him.

23.――Broome’s left again in collision with Rowe’s mouth. Counter-hits with the left. A close at the ropes, and Broome succeeded in throwing his man.

24 to 29.――In these rounds the same style of fighting was pursued, hitting left and right being the order of the day. Very few attempts were made at stopping, and these few were on the part of Rowe, who parried Harry’s left on several occasions. The rounds ended with a close at the ropes, in which Broome generally had the advantage, and got his man down by hanging on him.

30.――Joe stopped a nasty one from Harry’s left. Heavy hits were then exchanged on the old spots, and both were down, Rowe under. (The disorderly conduct of the spectators got worse and worse. The ring-keepers were obliged to get inside the ring, and used their whips and sticks very freely; but as fast as they drove the intruders back from the ropes they again came forward, returning hits for compliments paid them.)

31 to 36.――Heavy exchanges, and no flinching or attempts to stop. Previous to these rounds we thought Rowe was weak and on the wane, but he now rallied, and was firmer on his pins. He was, however, generally forced to the ropes, where Broome hung upon him until he fell.

37.――Broome received a stinger on his snout, which renewed the rivulet of claret. He returned slightly on Rowe’s cheek and closed. Rowe was, after a short struggle, forced down, Broome on him.

38.――Broome made his left again on Joe’s mouth. He then retreated to his corner, as if to get wind. Rowe was following, but Harry rushed to him, repeated his dose on the mouth, and fought to a close at the ropes, where, after a somewhat lengthened struggle, amidst great confusion in and out of the ring (Johnny Broome holding the rope), both got down together.

39.――Hitting right and left, and a close, in which some slight fibbing took place, Broome again receiving over his damaged eye, which was now almost “used up.” At length, after a break away, and a few harmless exchanges, Rowe got down.

40.――Heavy counters with the left, Broome receiving a snorter, which re-opened the springs from which the by-no-means-limpid stream had previously trickled. A close at the ropes, Broome still pursuing his tactics of endeavouring to hang upon his man. Rowe at length got down, pulling Broome along with him.

41.――Rowe had now evidently obtained fresh vigour, and his bellows seemed to have undergone a thorough repair. On coming up, he immediately went to his adversary, led off with his left, which was returned by Broome on the nose. Rowe attempted to obtain the fall, but in so doing slipped down.

42 and 43.――Slight exchanges, no mischief done; both down at the ropes.

44.――Harry hit out left and right on Joe’s mug, closed, and threw him heavily, falling on him.

45.――Broome again touched up Rowe’s “blow pipe.” Joe immediately insinuated a tremendous counter-crack on Broome’s head with his right, which dropped him, and he fell on his hands and knees and fell forward on his face. (First knock-down blow for Rowe.)

46 and 47.――Counter-hitting left and right, Rowe occasionally stopping Broome’s left, but the latter would not be denied, and hit away until he brought his man to a close, and they both went down together, Rowe under. On reaching their seconds’ knees, their punishment appeared to be about equal, neither showing many marks beyond those on Broome’s left eye and cheek on the one hand, and Rowe’s mouth and nose on the other. (About this time a cry was raised that the police had arrived, but we could see nothing of them, as we were so hemmed in by the mob, and, as we stated above, it was impossible for them to get at the combatants, or any one in the ring.)

48.――Stinging hits exchanged with the left to a rally and a close at the ropes, where Rowe got down to avoid Harry’s friendly hug.

49.――Broome’s left eye was now completely closed, and the surrounding flesh was considerably swollen; his nose, also, looked very blue. He went to his man, caught him round the neck with his left, and fibbed him severely with the other hand. Rowe at length caught the offending mawley, and forced Harry’s head back. After a little struggling, Rowe slipped down.

50.――Joe stopped a well-intended smack from Broome’s left. The latter then made his “one, two” on Rowe’s mouth and body. Joe slipped, and Broome was making an upper cut at him as he went down, but just succeeded in stopping the delivery in time to prevent grounds for a claim of “foul.”

51 and 52.――Some good countering took place in these rounds with equal advantage, for what Broome gave on Joe’s mouth and cheek he received in return on his damaged ogle and sneezer.

53.――The men quickly rushed to a close, and after a short struggle Joe succeeded in giving Broome a clean somersault over the ropes, amidst the joyous shouts of his partisans.

54 to 57.――Still the same hit-away style of fighting, no stopping or flinching, Broome occasionally getting his man’s head in chancery and fibbing. In the 56th round Harry put in a smasher on the body of Rowe, from the effects of which he was going down, when Broome sent in another, which did not reach him until he was on his knees. Another claim of “foul” was made by Jem Turner and Sambo, but the blow was evidently accidental, and Spring decided “fair.” Had it been otherwise, it would have been almost impossible for Spring to see, he was so beset by the mob who were creating the disturbance and overwhelming the ring. Spring at length was compelled to come within the arena to watch the proceedings. In the 57th round Rowe went down weak. Both Johnny Broome and Peter Crawley had now been in the ring during some rounds, Broome assisting his brother, and Crawley performing the same kind office for Rowe. Broome led the way, and his presence excited a good deal of angry feeling, but it was “six of one and half-a-dozen of the other.”

58 and 59.――Rowe was getting weaker, and Broome was piping. In the latter round heavy counter-hits were exchanged in Broome’s corner. The latter then put in a heavy body blow, from the effects of which Rowe staggered and went down.

60.――In-fighting in favour of Rowe, who made several good hits on Broome’s dial. Broome retaliated, but not so severely. They closed at the ropes, and both fell together. (The ring was now half full of people, and sticks and whips were being plied without avail on all sides.)

61 to 70.――On coming up for the 61st round, Broome’s face, principally on the left side, was terribly disfigured, while Rowe’s right jaw, cheek, and upper lip were so much cut and swollen as to produce the appearance of dislocation of the jaw. The hitting in these rounds was severe, although Rowe occasionally hit open-handed. In the close they generally fibbed each other severely, and fell together. The space in which they were fighting became gradually more and more circumscribed, and almost invariably in the close the ring-keepers were obliged to surround the combatants, and literally beat the crowd away, to give room for them to struggle for the fall, and to prevent their being injured by the mob.

71.――Tom Spring now, finding that there was not the slightest probability of a clear ring being again obtained, and satisfied that it would be impossible to obtain fair play, resigned his office as referee. The seconds and backers ought then to have each withdrawn his man; instead of this, however, the fight was continued amidst the most dreadful confusion, and in a space about two yards square, until the 81st round, when the men were taken away and conveyed on board the Nymph, after fighting for 2 hours and 21 minutes. All chance of concluding the contest had at this time vanished, and, of course, universal dissatisfaction prevailed. A cowardly attack was made on Johnny Broome by some of the disappointed Eastenders, but Peter Crawley manfully threw his shield over him, and prevented mischief.

REMARKS.――We have thus, to the best of our ability, amidst the shameful confusion which prevailed, endeavoured to give as accurate a description of this battle as our opportunities would admit. We can only repeat that at a very early period of the battle the crowd completely overwhelmed the efforts of those who were certainly anxious and creditably active in their endeavours to preserve order. The jealousy of those, however, who could not pay towards those who had paid was so forcibly evinced as to prevent all resistance; and this, combined with a large majority of Rowe’s friends and partisans, who indulged in a very unseemly expression of ill-feeling towards Johnny Broome and his brother, produced the very unsatisfactory conclusion at which the affair arrived, and of course led to the necessity of another meeting before it could be decided which was the better man. We confess we do not feel ourselves justified, from all we have yet seen, in assigning the palm of decided superiority to either. They both fought manfully and bravely, and exhibited all those sterling qualities which are calculated to reflect credit upon the characters of British boxers. There was no flinching, no cowardly attempts to fall to avoid punishment, nor were any of those subterfuges adopted on either side calculated to create the disapprobation of the spectators. On the contrary, when permitted by the disgraceful intrusion of strangers in the ring, they promptly and fearlessly obeyed the call of time, and hit away left and right each with a courageous determination to turn the scale in his favour. In the last few rounds――or, rather, scrambles――which took place, we are inclined to believe that Broome had a little the advantage; but it would be by no means just on our parts to give this as a decided opinion, and the less so as we saw Rowe run vigorously from the ring to the place of embarkation, followed by Broome. We were glad to make our escape from such a scene, and made our retreat along the banks of the river to Greenhithe, from whence we subsequently obtained a passage, not in the “Nymph,” but in a Gravesend boat, on its way to Blackwall, and thus did not obtain a close view of the men. Many heavy blows were exchanged in the course of the turmoil, and some one, with a wantonness perfectly indefensible, flung up a quart bottle in the air, which, alighting on Johnny Broome’s head, might have been fatal, and, as it was, proved anything but agreeable to his feelings. We cannot too strongly impress upon the parties concerned in this disgraceful exhibition that, as in the fable of the goose and the golden egg, they are sacrificing the chances of their own future gratification. A clear ring and no favour is the battle-cry of all fair boxing; and if the spirit of this cry be once abandoned, it is in vain to hope for the continuance of those manly demonstrations of courage and fair play which render prize-fighting defensible. It seems also to be forgotten that, by keeping a wide and extended ring throughout a combat, all have a fair opportunity of witnessing its progress; while, by thus closing in, the greater portion must be debarred from a view of the combatants, and thus disorder becomes inevitable. Added to this, the prejudices of the opponents of the good old sport become trebly fortified, and the interference of the magistrates and the police will find not only apologists, but eulogists, even among those who heretofore would have been the first to decry their interference. Aquatic excursions, by limiting the number of spectators, were, in the first instance, adopted as a prudent and judicious move, and so long as they were confined, by a fair charge, to the men and their real supporters, this object was gained; but the unfair system of starting opposition boats, at low prices, by enabling the worst class of Ring-goers to obtrude upon the scene of action, has superseded this intention, and it now only remains to adopt some new expedient by which fair play and good order can be maintained. Nothing but a determined coalition upon the part of the milling fraternity themselves will prevent the repetition of evils which must altogether extinguish their popularity as a class.

Great complaints were made of Broome having gone into the ring to assist his brother, which was decidedly contrary to the rules of the Ring, and led to Crawley following so bad an example. It was undoubtedly wrong; but some allowances must be made for the horrible confusion which prevailed, and the utter impossibility of the referee calling for a stringent attention to the rule referred to; although in two instances when Broome had intruded he peremptorily ordered him out, and was obeyed. It must be distinctly understood that any man, save the seconds, thus interfering with his man loses the fight.

Broome soon recovered from the contusions on his face, although when we saw him on the Friday the marks were sufficiently apparent. The forebone of the thumb on his right hand was, however, fractured. This occurred in the fourth round, and the repeated use of the hand afterwards rendered the consequences more serious. Rowe’s physiognomy was still far from symmetrical. His face on the right side was dreadfully swollen, and the cut on his lip severe and deep. The left side of his countenance also showed obvious symptoms of unpleasant visitations. In other respects the men were little damaged; but Rowe had clearly got the larger share of the punishment. His left hand was also much puffed. It was stated that for the present it would be impossible for Broome to use his right hand, and Crawley readily agreed that the day for the renewal of the battle should not be fixed till a surgeon had pronounced when the damaged feeler was likely to be fit for service. Johnny Broome proposed to give £5 towards Rowe’s training expenses, provided the match were made for £100, and to come off in four months. To this Crawley could make no response, as he had his apprehensions of being able to get any addition to the stakes down.

The final agreement was that the renewal of the combat should take place on the 6th of May; Peter Crawley and Johnny Broome to name the locality. At a subsequent meeting at Spring’s, it being mentioned that the 6th of May was the day of running the Chester Cup, the date was altered to the 13th by mutual agreement, and the place of rendezvous was settled for Ensham, Oxfordshire, six miles from the University city. On the overnight the men and their mentors set off for that locality. The “London Particulars,” however, contented themselves with the half-past seven morning train, and the quarter to ten fast ditto, as their method of reaching the trysting-place. Soon after eleven all was alive in Ensham, and the cavalcade moved off for the battle-field, many of the drags being of the style and pattern that bespoke the Corinthian quality of their owners or occupants. At twelve the Commissary and assistants had made a model ring and enclosure in an emerald-green meadow near Ensham, and soon after Harry Broome, his brother Johnny, his seconds and friends, came on the ground on a four-in-hand; while Rowe, under the broad shadow of Peter Crawley, escorted by a numerous cavalcade of equestrians and charioteers, with a long queue of pedestrians was also “thar.” Harry Broome was waited on in the ring by his brother and Sam Simmonds, of Birmingham; Rowe by Jack Macdonald and Bill Hayes. Broome’s colours were blue with a large white spot, Rowe’s the old blue birdseye.

After some little delay in the choice of a referee, “time” was called, and the men, in fighting costume, advanced from their corners and shook hands. Young Harry, in point of condition, was all that his best friends could desire; he was indeed a model of youthful health and activity. He stood slightly over his opponent, and had evidently the advantage in length of reach. Rowe looked far more solid and burly at his weight (10st. 5lbs.), and was much less graceful in his movements; indeed, his look lacked the animation and confidence which beamed on the features of his youthful antagonist. The friends of Rowe were, nevertheless, sanguine of his success, and took the 5 and 6 to 4 readily which some of Broome’s patrons offered.

At a few minutes before one the men and their seconds crossed hands, the latter retired to their corners, and the twain stood up for

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――On throwing themselves into position each put out his feelers and advanced and retreated several times. After one or two feinting dodges Rowe tried his left, but was short; they got closer to their work, and left-hand counters were exchanged, Rowe catching it on the mouth and Broome slightly on the cheek. After a break away they again approached, and once more exchanged counter-hits with the left, Broome getting well home on Rowe’s kissing organ, whence blood immediately trickled, and “first blood” was claimed for Broome and awarded. Broome rushed in, caught Rowe round the neck under his left arm, fibbed a little with his right, hitting up, then, giving him a leg, threw and fell on him. (7 to 4 on Broome offered.)

2.――Rowe, on coming to the scratch, showed a stream of the crimson fluid from the side of his mouth. Broome led off with his left, but was neatly stopped, and in the second attempt equally well foiled. Slight exchanges, and Broome closed, and, after a short struggle, had his man down, but came himself to the ground rather heavily.

3.――Rowe short with his left. Broome quickly caught him a smasher on his damaged mouth, repeating the dose twice, and playing round his man with a celerity that reminded us of Young Dutch Sam. Rowe tried to get home, first with one hand then the other, but was short, from the rapid shifting of his adversary. In the close Broome tried to get the lock, but Rowe kept his legs wide and declined the intended favour. Broome tried to hit up with the right, but Rowe slipped on one knee, catching a stinger on the jaw as he was falling, and Harry tumbling over him.

4.――On Rowe coming up, his left eye, left cheek, and mouth gave evidence of renewed visitations. Harry, though flushed in the frontispiece, was not yet “adorned with cuts.” Rowe hit short with the left, and then stopped two or three attempts by Harry to get home with the same hand. In trying to return Rowe hit rather in the style of the sparring school, drawing back his elbow just as his fist reached its destination, instead of letting the blow go straight from the shoulder. A rally, in which Rowe succeeded in planting his left on Broome’s eye, and then stepped in with a rattling hit on the jaw that seemed for a moment to stagger the Young’un; in fact it looked for a moment as if he would go down from the stunning visitation; but he did not, and Rowe closed and threw his man amidst vociferous acclamations from the East-enders.

5.――Broome came up smiling, steady, and resolute, showing little effects of the last round. He made play, but Rowe easily stopped two long shots from the left. Rowe retreated, but did not succeed in drawing Broome near enough, so the latter, after an exchange or two, got within distance, delivering left and right heavily on the head and body, then catching his man firmly on his left arm, he “fiddled” him with the right, and as he struggled away gave him the leg and fell heavily on him. (The Rowe-ites mute with astonishment.)

6.――Both showed signs of punishment, Rowe on mouth, eye, cheek, and left ear, Broome on the left cheek. Rowe short with the left; a rally, when Harry caught Rowe an upper-cut with the left, but Rowe grappled him, and Harry got down through his hands, amidst the jeers and scoffs of the Rowe party.

7.――Broome came up slowly; he sparred and shifted ground, but Rowe would not be drawn. Broome sent out his left, but was short, and in a second attempt just reached Joe’s neck with his right, who threw his head back with great quickness out of the way of mischief. Three times in succession Rowe stopped Broome’s left with great neatness. (“That’s the way to break his heart,” cried Jack Macdonald.) After some more clever sparring, in which little damage was done, Broome closed, and again threw his man, falling on him.

8.――Broome was again neatly stopped, but he persevered and got in a smasher on Rowe’s damaged mouth, who counter-hit, but not effectively. Broome got in to half-arm and visited Rowe’s left eye. Joe, not relishing these pops, dropped on his knees, but Harry caught him with his left arm and lifted him bodily up from the ground, thus displaying immense muscular strength, threw him and dropped on him. (2 to 1 on Broome.)

9.――Harry came up smiling confidently. He led off with his left, but Rowe stopped him three or four times beautifully. (Applause.) At length they got close, and Broome twice in succession got home on Rowe’s mouth and eye. Rowe, wild and stung, rushed into close quarters, but Broome got away, broke ground, and twice or three times popped in sharp hits in the face. Rowe got down in his own corner during a rally.

10.――Broome played round his man actively, occasionally getting in a “little one.” Rowe was slow, and stood steadily on the defensive. He evidently reckoned on Broome tiring himself by doing all the work. He could not, however, keep Broome out, who gave him a tidy smack on the cheek, and Rowe got down.

11.――Rowe still slow and on the defensive. Broome put in a nobber, and Rowe was down on the grass.

12.――Rowe stopped a succession of hits with the left, but Broome would not come in to be propped; at last they exchanged two or three sharp hits, when Broome closed and threw Rowe, but not heavily.

13.――Good out-fighting on the part of Broome, who planted on Rowe’s neck and ear. Rowe continued his stopping, and stepping back, until Broome, tired of the game, fought in, closed, and threw him.

14.――Broome got home with his left, a cutting blow; Rowe let go right and left wildly, of which Broome took advantage, closed, caught him round the waist, and flung him cleverly.

15.――Rowe still stopped steadily, but was sadly short in the returns. As we have before said, his blows did not go from the shoulder, but partook of the flip-flap character of the sparring school. Broome advanced and retreated, and at last, springing in, caught Rowe in the mark with his left, and gave the “first knock down.”

16 to 19.――Broome made the fighting, got in his left, and threw his man in all these rounds.

20.――Rowe maintained his steadiness amazingly. He stopped with precision, and was getting down from Broome’s onslaught when Harry seized him, lifted him by sheer strength, and threw him.

21.――Rowe getting slow, and apparently vexed at not being able to get his man to hitting distance. Broome played half-round to the right, then to the left. Rowe went in desperately and forced a rally, in which he got home his right a sounder on Broome’s jaw, and both were down, amidst the uproarious cheers of the East-enders, who seemed “thankful for small mercies.”

22.――Broome showed symptoms of fatigue; he coughed and hemmed, stepped back, and rubbed his arms, leisurely surveying his antagonist. “Don’t be gammoned,” said Bill Hayes; Rowe nodded his head assentingly. As Rowe would not advance Broome went to him, and in some sharp exchanges hit hardest and oftenest. Broome’s right came in sharp contact with Rowe’s sconce as he was going down, and Broome was seen pulling at his right little finger, to which some mischance had happened.

23.――On coming to the scratch Broome again sparred _à la distance_. “Go in,” cried Crawley to Rowe; “his hands are gone, it’s all your own.” This was an error; “the wish was father to the thought,” for Harry frustrated his adversary’s attempt by sending his left slap in Rowe’s mazzard, hit him with the supposed disabled right in the ribs, closed, and got him down.

24.――Broome popped in his left, closed, and rolled over his man as he got down.

25.――Rowe, getting slower and slower, seemed to content himself with guarding his head and ribs, and shifting. Broome bided his time, but at length got home, and muzzled poor Joe, who went to grass somehow.

26.――As before, Rowe on the defensive, stopping, but not returning. Broome followed him up, forced him on to the ropes, and rolled over with him.

27th and last.――Broome came to the scratch cheerfully; his seconds certainly sent him up remarkably clean. Although Rowe, as before, stopped an experimental left-hander or two, Harry gave him two severe smashers on the mouth and cheek, then closing as Rowe was trying to get down, he gave him the crook, and fell heavily on him. It was all over. Rowe, though still strong on his legs, declined to continue the contest; and Bill Hayes threw up the sponge in token of defeat. Young Harry was highly elated. He jumped about the ring like a parched pea in a frying-pan, shook hands with his opponent, and performed a _coup de théâtre_ by pressing the winning-colours to his lips, and then waving them round his head. At this moment Harry showed no further discolouration of the face than a blue mark under the left eye. One of the bones of his right-hand, however, was broken, and from that round it was of little effectual service, though he used it several times. The fight lasted exactly fifty-seven minutes, and from first to last was conducted with the utmost fairness, and without the slightest interruption from the surrounding multitude, which was largely increased by the accession of several Whitsun clubs, who were celebrating their holiday in the neighbourhood.

REMARKS.――Broome won the fight from superior tact, good in-fighting, and the clever use of his legs, both in getting away and throwing. To the quick use of his left――for he did but little with the right――the downfall of his game antagonist is also to be ascribed. Rowe, we must confess, from what we had previously seen, somewhat disappointed us. Not only was he slow, and generally short, but his hits were elbow-deliveries, while, before the battle was half through, he adopted such a determined line of mere defensive tactics as never could have gained him victory over such a courageous and active adversary as Young Broome. We almost suspected he had made up his mind to defeat early in the fight. Broome’s youth, though much against him, was relied on by Rowe, mistakingly, as the event proved. He was neither so much exhausted, or even tired, as his older opponent. It would be prudent, from the injury he has twice sustained in his right-hand, that he should, for a time, retire from the active pursuit of the profession he has adopted, until gristle has hardened to bone, and well-knit sinew and tendon replace his youthful rounded muscle. That Young Harry possesses steadiness, self-possession, game, and confidence he has fully shown, and these, aided by the increasing strength and stamina which time must bring, must ensure him a high position among pugilistic professionals. The weather was, throughout the day, most favourable, and order and regularity admirably maintained, Spring, Peter Crawley, Jem Burn, Owen Swift, Johnny Hannan, Jem Turner, Young Reid, Jemmy Welsh, and others of the _corps d’élite_, contributing greatly to this desirable state of things.

At this period (1846) there resided at Birmingham a boxer of high local repute, some five years the senior of Harry, and still in his prime, who, in the opinion of his fellow-townsmen, was well fitted to check the triumphant career of the juvenile representative of the house of Broome, which was considered to have transferred its pugilistic fame from its native place to London. This was Ben Terry, whose successive defeats of Jem Hodgkiss, Forster, Davis of Birmingham, and Tom Davis, in 1841, 1842, 1843, and 1844, all middle-weights, had earned for him a character approaching invincibility. After some cavilling with Johnny Broome in times passed by, before that boxer retired from the Ring, which, however, ended in nothing. Ben now proposed a match for £100 a side, with Young Harry, at 10st. 4lbs., and the youngster, nothing loth, closed with the offer. There was much partisan feeling mixed up in the affair, and on February 3rd, 1846, the men met at Shrivenham, Berkshire, on the Great Western line. There was tedious disputation on the choice of a referee; and the behaviour of the partisans of Terry was simply disgraceful, and marked most significantly the falling fortunes of the Ring. The unfinished battle, which occupies an immense and undue space in the contemporary report, is not worth preserving. Suffice it to say that for the first half hour the fighting of Harry was singularly irregular and wild, and only accountable upon the supposition, loudly proclaimed by Brother Johnny, that Young Harry had been stupefied by the surreptitious introduction of some drug in his drink――in short, had been “hocussed.” We, who witnessed the fight, however loth we should be to admit such a shameful act without clear evidence, could not resist the suspicion of some foul play. Terry, however, seemed to fight very little better than his opponent. After the 35th round, the confusion and disorder defied description. The ring was broken in, and filled with an unruly crowd; repeated claims of “foul” were made from both sides; the referee was sought to be intimidated by uproar and threats; and finally the fight was claimed for Terry, without any decision being given by the properly constituted authorities, and the respective parties returned――the one to Birmingham, the other to London, to wrangle over the destination of the £200 in the hands of the stakeholder. After a tedious controversy and furious mutual recriminations, it is clear that the Terry party did not fancy a second meeting, and the affair ended by Johnny Broome, on behalf of his brother, consenting to draw stakes on receipt of a douceur of £5. Terry, who was subsequently beaten by Coates and Posh Price, died at Birmingham, October 12th, 1862.

We have noted in the life of the Tipton Slasher, how, after his defeat of Paddock, in December, 1850, he laid public claim to the Championship; how Bendigo, after stating that he was prepared to fight for £500, and no less, backed out when the Tipton offered to meet him for that amount; and further, that he, the Tipton, would fight any man for £100 or £200. This challenge was unanswered until May, 1851, when Broome declared himself ready to make a deposit for an “Unknown,” for £200 a side. This was accepted. At a subsequent meeting at Johnny Broome’s, on the 2nd of June, the articles were completed, and the battle agreed to take place within four months. On the occasion first named poor Tom Spring, who had in this case undertaken to see to the interests of the Slasher in London, lay stretched on a bed of sickness, struggling with that grim antagonist who soon after gave him his final fall; consequently Johnny Broome claimed and received forfeit at the second deposit, the Slasher’s friends not putting in an appearance. In the following week a gleam of hoped-for health on the part of Spring, and the arrival of Perry himself in London, led to a demonstration, and a sum of money was deposited in the hands of the Editor of _Bell’s Life_ on the part of Tipton, to meet the “Unknown” for the sum proposed. That the “Great Unknown” was a mystery, like the authorship of “Junius,” and, for a time, the Waverley Novels, was evident, for men did not scruple to say that Johnny had had a lucky escape from “a bit of bounce” by the receipt of the small amount down. The mystery, however, was quickly dissipated, for at the next meeting, to the astonishment of all, Young Harry announced himself to be the “mysterious stranger,” prepared to join issue with the ponderous Slasher, and from that evening the match progressed satisfactorily.

In the interim, the Tipton, after a provincial tour, went into training at Hoylake, in Cheshire, under the mentorship of Jem Ward, and the superintendence of Jemmy the Black (Young Molyneaux). Harry was, of course, looked after by his brother, but was unable to do so much work as he required, owing to the necessity that arose of constantly shifting his quarters. This, we may now state, was owing to the embarrassed state of his pecuniary affairs, in connection with the Opera Tavern, in the Haymarket, of which he was then the landlord.

When we last saw Harry in the lists, in his interrupted combat with Ben Terry, he was looked upon as a “middle-weight,” his height 5 feet 9 inches, his weight 10½st.; and from this circumstance, despite the assertion that he had grown nearly two inches in stature, and would go to scale full two stone heavier in muscle and bone, there was an obstinate incredulity on the part of many who thought they knew the man, with respect to the 10½st. Harry and the 13st. Slasher ever facing each other in the Ring.

The stakeholder, upon whom devolved the duty of naming the place of fighting, selected Mildenhall. Johnny Broome had a predilection for Six Mile Bottom, near Newmarket, as suitable for the convenience of the sporting men going to the First October Meeting, but this he subsequently abandoned. The place having been appointed, Johnny Broome and Young Spring, on behalf of the Slasher, engaged a special train on the Eastern Counties Line, which, it was notified, would start at half-past eight. There was little excitement abroad, for the eve of so important an event as that which was to decide the _vexata quæstio_ as to who was to be Champion of England. It is true, the houses of the two Broomes, and the Castle Tavern, were thronged, but we did not hear of a bet being made, and a strong impression prevailed up to the very day that something would occur to prevent the issue of the battle. On reaching the platform whence the train was to start we found the assemblage was limited, and we should calculate that not more than one hundred took their places in the carriages, so that these who speculated on gain were on the wrong side of the post. With the exception of Peter Crawley and Old Tom Oliver, we recognised none of the representatives of the old school.

The travellers having taken their seats――the Tipton, accompanied by Nobby Clarke and Molyneaux, being among them――the whistle sounded, and off went the party. A good deal of consternation was expressed by some persons at the non-appearance of Broome; but, on the train arriving at Bishop Stortford, all doubt was set at rest by his presence on the platform. The train once more got under weigh, and shortly the goal was reached. Pursuing a winding lane, the veteran Commissary led the way to the field where Bendigo won his parting laurel from Paddock, in 1850. This ground, however, was found to be under plough, and the travellers had to go further afield; nevertheless, all was soon in apple-pie order for business. The London train band was reinforced by a few of the Norfolk and Suffolk Militiamen, and a cavalry contingent from Newmarket, and by one o’clock there was a tolerable muster round the roped arena. At ten minutes after that hour the Tipton hero advanced to the ring-side, and, removing his nob-cover, tossed it gaily within the magic circle. Harry was not long in answering the Tipton’s call for him to come forth, and was loudly cheered on presenting himself. After shaking hands, the difficult point of choosing a referee came on the _tapis_. This knotty question seemed likely to occupy the whole day, for to each proposition a negative was offered, chiefly by the Tipton and his friends. One hour and forty minutes were thus cut to waste, but at twenty-five minutes past two the differences ended by the selection of Peter Crawley, and the men commenced their toilettes. Crawley had been previously rejected by the Tipton, from an apprehension that his predilections were in favour of Broome; and it was not until Harry offered to fight without a referee that he at last consented. The choice made, the Slasher approached Crawley, and said all he desired was a fair fight and no favour. If he did anything foul he must abide by the consequences, and if his antagonist did wrong he hoped an equal measure of justice would be meted out to him. Crawley said he might rely on his performing his duty strictly and impartially. All he desired was to see a fair and manly contest, and to see it fairly and manfully fought out.

The attendants on the Slasher were Nobby Clarke and Jem Molyneaux. The bold Harry was esquired by Callaghan, of Derby, and Bob Castles, Johnny, of course, being in the corner. A little interlude, in the shape of a shindy between Molyneaux and Callaghan, enlivened the interval of suspense, but, on everything being ready, they were soon quieted down. The ring was admirably kept throughout, Tom Callas, Jerry Noon, Mallet, and others lending a helping hand. The betting at the commencement was 2 to 1 on the Slasher; and at forty-five minutes past two business began.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――And so the men stood up, and all doubts, fears, and suspicions as to whether there would or would not be a fight were at an end, and the question was now to be set at rest as to what sort of a fight those present were to witness, and we were to record. No sooner had the youthful Harry struck his canvass, and exhibited himself in Nature’s buff suit, than an almost audible buzz of surprise and admiration broke from the spectators. Never did gladiator of old offer a finer study for the chisel of the sculptor or the pencil of the painter. 5ft. 10½in. in stature, his height was only fairly proportioned to his weight, 12st. 10lbs. on the morning of the battle, which, by-the-bye, was 10lbs. too much. His chest and scapulæ, with their masses of prominent and rigid muscle, were almost preternaturally developed; and as he swung his long, round arms, with the motion of one practising with the dumb-bells, closing and unclosing his hands (black with the astringent juices applied to them), to supple his joints for the impending encounter, all seemed to agree that he was up to the standard of weight and measure which the veteran Captain Barclay said “was big enough to fight any two-legged creature that ever walked.” There is much, however, in “a name”――despite Juliet’s declaration to the contrary, which, coming from a green young Miss, don’t carry much authority――and, accordingly, the old ring-goers were half inclined to a belief in the Slasher’s invincibility, and doubted whether the audacious “boy,” as the Tipton contemptuously called him in our hearing, would stand up to his ancient friend and fellow-trainer in bygone days. That this was a mistake was soon apparent. Throwing up his hands with smiling confidence, Harry toed the scratch, saying, as he did so, “Here I am, old boy, and I mean to win to-day.” The Tipton grinned――the absence of his incisors imparting that expression to his laugh. On the present occasion, though he looked brown, hardy, and sunburnt, there was somewhat of an antiquated cut about his figure-head which was not observable on his last public appearance, which, as we have already recorded, was with Paddock, in December, 1850. His frame, however, showed no waste or diminution of its formidable proportions. Poised upon his letter K-like pedestals, his huge upper works, broad shoulders, immense blade-bones, wide loins and well-ribbed carcase showed the ponderous athlete, though the bloom and freshness of youth had faded from his skin. It was clear he meant to give no rest, and as little room and opportunity, to his antagonist as he could help. Harry offered with his left high up, in the direction of the Slasher’s nob; it was a sort of measuring, and he stepped aside, breaking ground with graceful agility. Slasher followed him, when he stepped aside laughing, closing and unclosing his hands, playing about out of reach, and sparring. “Go to him, Tipton,” cried Jemmy Wharton; “he’s afraid of you.” The Tipton did as he was bid, and Harry retreated until near the ropes. The Tipton let go his right, and just reached Harry’s ribs, who rapidly caught him a cross-counter with the left on the face. A couple of rather hasty exchanges brought the men together; they separated, and Broome delivered an upper cut on the Slasher’s face, who retaliated on Harry’s body so effectively that he slipped in jumping back, and fell, throwing up his feet as he reached the ground, to prevent the Tipton falling on him, and, when he found himself safely landed, bringing his heels over his head with a spring, and turning a complete somersault. A claim for a knock-down; but it was anything but that. Four minutes. (6 to 4 on the Tipton, and no takers.)

2.――Harry came up laughing, and nodded at the Tipton, who laughed and nodded in return. Nothing was the matter on either side. Slasher followed Broome, who retreated to the ropes. “Get nearer, Harry,” cried Brother Johnny. “Don’t go after him,” said Molyneaux, and the Tipton in turn retired to the scratch, to which he pointed down with his index-finger. Harry stepped right up to his head, and delivered his left flush on the Slasher’s mouth. (Cheers.) There was a momentary pause, Slasher pursued Harry to the ropes, where the latter jumped into a close, and caught his opponent round the waist. Harry tried to get the lock, but both were down, Tipton having hold of the upper rope with his right.

3.――Broome was all confidence and elasticity. He went up to the Slasher, and reached his head, then retreated from the return. “He’ll stand it,” cried Callaghan. The Tipton got in his left on Harry’s right cheek, who, in return, gave him a sounding flush hit on the olfactory organ. The Slasher let fly right and left, and the men closed near the centre stake. Harry got an unmistakable outside look with his right leg over the crooked knee of the Slasher. There were a few seconds of severe struggling, when Broome, having fixed his hold, brought the Slasher over on his back. Down he came, shaking the earth with the concussion, his shoulders, neck, and back part of his caput first saluting the ground, while Harry rolled over on him. The effect was electrifying: even “Peter the Great” gave an audible grunt in unison with the “thud” that accompanied the Slasher’s downfall. There lay the crooked Colossus prostrate, till his active seconds, seizing him by the legs and wings, conveyed him to his corner, whither Harry followed him with inquiring eyes.

4.――Tipton came well and boldly, but not till time had been several times vociferously called, the Broomites evidently in most hurry. Harry shifted round and round the corners, the Slasher following him. Harry reached the Tipton’s mouth smartly, who let go both hands. The hit sounded. Broome closed, and tried the lock again. The Tipton avoided his hips, and both were on the grass.

5.――The Tipton had shaken off the effects of his fall. He tried to gammon Harry within reach of his formidable right by short feints with the left. As this did not have the desired effect, he went in, hitting out with both hands. Harry nailed him on the frontispiece, and as he came on again, administered an upper-cut. It was not quite close enough, or it might have told tales. In the close the Tipton was under at the ropes, but it was no detriment.

6.――Broome went to the Slasher’s head in the most manly style, and popped in one. “Fortune favours the brave.” Tipton retorted, but missed one very mischievous hit. The men closed, Harry hit up, catching the Tipton on the nose, and both were down in the scramble――the Tipton, if either, first.

7.――“First blood” for Broome, which was unmistakably distilling from the Slasher’s nose, to which he put his hand as if to feel it. The Tipton forced Broome to the ropes, threatening with his right, where they closed, and after some not very effective fibbing, Broome brought the Tipton down on his back, falling on his stomach with his latter end. (An offer to take evens on Broome.)

8.――Smart active sparring and a bustling exchange. Harry gave the Slasher a very heavy hit on the jaw, producing a slight cut. The Tipton retorted with a nobber, and also sent home a body-hit. Whether the Tipton’s right hand had lost its cunning or not, these ribbers did not seem to stagger the Young One as they did former adversaries. Still, the old one rattled in, and in the scuffle was jobbed in the head, till at the end of the round Broome pushed him from him sideways with both hands, when he got down. Bellows to mend on both sides.

9.――The Slasher came up grinning, but his merriment looked rather forced, although the hitting had left but little traces on his hard features. He hit very short with his left, and Broome walked round smiling. There was a close at the ropes in Harry’s corner, in which the Tipton got Broome awkwardly over them, and hung on him, holding the rope with his right, his left hand being across Harry’s face. The rope was slacked, and Harry was let down. The referee was appealed to, who ordered the fight to proceed.

10.――Exchanges: Harry gave the Tipton a blow on the left eye that raised a lump, then swung round and broke away from the return. He jobbed the Slasher as he advanced, but was driven to the ropes, whence he suddenly sprang forward, took a half-arm hit, and making his favourite grip, brought the Tipton over――a heavy fall――tumbling on him with his knees. As Harry lay on the grass, he blew like a grampus.

11.――The Slasher came slowly up. There was a short pause, when again Broome went up to his head. The Slasher’s right reached Harry’s body, who put in a sharp left-hander that cut the Tipton’s lip; there was some quick half-arm hitting, in which Broome delivered a clever upper-cut with his right, and both were down. Broome uppermost, the crimson fluid from the Slasher’s nose and lip smearing Harry’s frontispiece as they embraced.

12.――The Tipton bored Harry to the ropes, was on to him before he got his chance for a lunge, and had him down in a scramble.

13.――Harry retreated to the ropes. The Tipton followed. Broome stopped his left, and shifted from his right, but got a slight taste as he broke ground, and moved round his man. Harry dashed at the Slasher, and got within his guard. There was a short scrambling rally, when the Tipton got down to avoid the lock. Offers to take evens, and then to bet the short odds on “the Young’un.” Bob Castles retired from Broome’s corner in this round, and his place was supplied by Macdonald. An objection to the change of seconds overruled.

14.――Broome milled prettily on the retreat, the Tipton hitting remarkably short with his left. Harry unclosed his hands, and shifting round towards the Slasher’s corner, said, cheerfully, “I’ll take odds ‘the boy’ licks him without a black eye.” The Tipton was evidently more bothered than beaten, and the facility with which he was thrown made him put on his considering cap. Broome went up to his head, as if to attack, but as quickly stepped back. The Slasher followed, and let go both hands, his right alone getting home. Harry turned at the instant, hit up sharply with the left, and weaving away, the Tipton got down. In the in-fighting there were some heavy hits exchanged, and Broome’s over-weight told sadly on his bellows, which heaved and jerked like those of a pumped-out steeplechaser.

15th and last.――There was a little squabble about time, the Slasher slowest from his corner. Both sides seemed somewhat inclined to spar for wind. Harry dashed in, evidently with the intention of closing and trying for a heave. He hit the Tipton on the chin, but the Ould’un got away, as if to get room for his right. Harry advanced, closed, and a struggle took place, each attempting to hit. The Tipton grasped him tightly with his left, and was trying to hit with his right, when Harry slipped down on both knees. The Tipton let go his right just as he reached the ground, giving him a decided nobber, which certainly did not reach its destination till Harry was down. It was the work of a moment. The shouts from all sides were tremendous. Broome’s seconds ran to the umpires and referee, as did the ever-active Molyneaux, on the side of the Tipton. There was a short pause, during which “Peter the Great” declared he had not yet been formally appealed to. This was done, the umpires, of course, disagreeing. “A most deliberate foul,” said “Peter the Great,” and the ring broke up. Thirty-three minutes had sufficed for the present decision of the question, “Who is the Champion of England?”

As the ponderous Peter left the roped enclosure, another instance was added to the many previous of the suicidal conduct of the present race of Ring men. The referee was surrounded by a vociferous and violent mob, whose language was of the most outrageous description. The Tipton himself, too, so “raised the dander” of the referee by his remarks and conduct, that the veteran Crawley declared he would fight for his credit and integrity, and, to the no small amusement of many, was disencumbering his portly person of his outer coat, to inflict summary punishment on his assailants, when the Tipton was forced away.

REMARKS.――Upon this battle, ending in a manner so unsatisfactory, few remarks are necessary. The style of fighting will speak for itself. It was clear that the Tipton was surprised by the vigour and determination of his youthful opponent, and not less so at the manner in which he exhibited his throwing powers; for, in closing, not only was Harry the better wrestler, but apparently the stronger man. How the battle would have terminated had it proceeded in the ordinary way it is impossible to say, and in this respect opinions naturally differed. For, on the one hand, the little punishment that was administered came from the Young One, while the Old One had evidently lost none of his personal confidence, and no doubt anticipated that Harry would out-fight himself, and, by the rapidity of his movements, increase that exhaustion which had already shown itself at the conclusion of some of the earlier rounds. The sudden termination of the battle came upon all by surprise, and few believed that there was a “deliberate” intention on the part of the Tipton to administer the blow which was pronounced “foul.” That Harry was on his knees when he received the ugly hit we can aver, as we were seated by the side of the referee at the time of the appeal. The men were certainly in a scrambling close at the moment; and it was obvious that, while Harry desired to get out of trouble, the Tipton felt inclined to make the most of his fancied advantage. Crawley’s experience thoroughly enabled him to form a correct opinion, and we have no reason to believe that his judgment was not given fairly and impartially. Of course those not over-honest persons, who always attribute unworthy motives to others, assert that Crawley’s prepossessions were in favour of Broome, and that this was the reason why the Tipton originally objected to his being selected as referee. To this we can distinctly oppose that, to our own knowledge, the bias of Peter, if he had any, would have carried him the other way. Such, however, was not the opinion of the Tipton nor of his friends, as the latter, on the following day, served the stakeholder with notice “not to part with their money,” and the Tipton still asserted himself to be “Champion of England.”

Upon this unsportsmanlike proceeding the Editor commented with much severity, arguing that if such practices were pursued, there would be an end to all confidence between man and man in sporting matters, and would assuredly deter any one from posting money on any similar event, as well as from holding stakes.

Harry Orme having, as we have seen in the preceding chapter, defeated Aaron Jones a second time, was strongly urged to put forth his claim to the Championship, and to meet Harry Broome on his “advertised” terms. Months, however, passed before the match was made. First Broome made one stipulation, and then Orme’s friends showed their “stupid cleverness” in a counter-proposition, and there was a cannonade of angry correspondence of the most futile controversial character. Late in the year 1852, however, articles were signed and delivered for a fight to come off on the 18th of April, 1853, for £250 a side, the Editor of _Bell’s Life_ to name the place of fighting, and also appoint a referee.

Harry, who since developing into a Boniface had become excessively corpulent, at once placed himself under the care of Levi Eckersley, at Cleave Hill, near Cheltenham, and here diligently subjected himself to an immense amount of work. Orme went into training near Maidstone, whence, the Monday before the battle, he removed to Greenstreet Green, in Kent.

It being stipulated in the articles that the stakeholder should name the whereabouts for the event, a special train was engaged on the Eastern Counties Railway, for “an excursion of 100 miles or thereabouts,” the exact spot being undivulged to the general sporting public, lest the gentry then known as “Cheapsiders” should get down “by hook or by crook,” and, by alarming the county, spoil sport. The arrangements with the railway company were made with despatch, and the gentlemen at the Shoreditch Station took every care to make such dispositions on the eventful morning as effectually to prevent any of the unprivileged classes from obtaining admittance. The time for starting was nominally a quarter-past eight, but long before that hour the neighbourhood of Shoreditch was in a perfect ferment; the streets and the station-yard were crowded with spectators anxious to get a glimpse of the chief performers in the forthcoming drama; but in this they were disappointed, as they had both proceeded a certain distance on the line of march on the previous day. As the time for starting approached, the arrival of cabs and other vehicles was incessant, and it was perfectly clear that there would be a very large muster of patrons of the sport, the majority of whom were what Pierce Egan would have called “reg’lar nobs and tip-top swells,” but who are, in the present Ring vernacular, classed as patrician and Corinthian patrons of the noble art. At no fight for many years past had there been such a congregation of noblemen and gentlemen; and certainly at no encounter since that between Caunt and Bendigo, in 1845, was so much interest excited. Among the company present we were glad to observe some patrons of the Ring of the Old School――gentlemen who remembered the battles of Cribb, Spring, Hickman (the Gas-man), Oliver, &c. There was also a good sprinkling of Turfites present, attracted partly owing to its being a bye-day in the racing world, and partly by the fact that Orme’s backer was a gentlemen well known in the betting-ring. Among the latest arrivals at the station was the “Arch” Bishop of Bond Street, with a considerable number of his flock. The reverend “gent.” although suffering from gout, had strained a point to be present at such an important contest, no doubt anticipating that the winner would insist upon his “crowning” him upon the spot; but in this the “mad priest” was disappointed: his services were not required, and he had to return to town after the battle, without being called upon to distinguish himself in any manner except in the voracious devouring of the contents of a huge sandwich-box, which he was compelled to attack by the calls of appetite, and in the ceremony of swallowing which he highly distinguished himself. At length the train was full, the station-doors were closed, and at half-past eight precisely the whistle sounded, and we were off. The caravan, consisting of some sixteen carriages, all of which were crammed, proceeded steadily on its way until we reached Bishop Stortford, where we took in Orme (for the fight), and water (for the engine). The next stoppage was Elsenham, where Broome got into the train, and the engineer received his orders as to the final destination. He, acting under directions, pulled up at Ely, where a pilot, who had gone on the previous day, took up his position on the train, and informed us of that of which we had already our misgivings――viz., that an immense number of persons had gone by parliamentary train from London to Mildenhall, early in the morning, and were there in waiting to receive the combatants and their friends. This being the case, proved the correctness of the precautions we had taken in sending on a pilot beforehand. That gentleman now undertook to conduct us to a spot where business could be proceeded with in peace and comfort, and the train once again sped on its way. As we passed Mildenhall, we saw hundreds of disappointed travellers, who had been patiently waiting all the morning, and who were thus, very properly, baulked in their parsimonious intentions. At Lakenheath, the next station, we perceived a company of mounted blues in readiness to spoil sport. These worthies, like the would-be spectators at Mildenhall, also had their trouble and expense for nothing. There was no intention of breaking the peace within their bailiwick, so still the train went on. At length the appointed spot was reached, between two stations, and about 108 miles from London. Here a hasty debarkation was effected, and the train returned to the nearest station. Tom Oliver, his son, and Tom Callas, at once proceeded to erect the lists, while Dan Dismore carried on a brisk business in the sale of inner-ring tickets. Some idea of the number of gentlemen present may be gathered from the fact that the tickets so disposed of realised between £40 and £50. There were, of course, a great number of outsiders on the ground, but owing to the precautions that had been taken in keeping things dark, the total number of spectators did not exceed 2,000. All these persons, by the admirable arrangements, and the activity of the ring-keepers of the Pugilistic Association, obtained an admirable view of the contest throughout, and we did not, during the day, hear of a single disturbance calculated in the slightest degree to interfere with the sport, or those anxious to witness it. By a quarter-past one o’clock the ring was completed. Orme immediately pitched his castor within the ropes, and followed himself, attended by Tom Sayers and Jack Grant. He looked well and hardy, and wore a smile of confidence on his good-humoured mug. In about ten minutes more the other Harry made his appearance, closely followed by Bill Hayman, of Birmingham, and Callaghan, of Derby, his brother Johnny being, as he had promised, “in the corner.” Harry smiled, and shook hands with t’other Harry, and both were loudly cheered. The ceremony of peeling now commenced, and by half-past one the men were delivered at the scratch in fighting undress.

On toeing the scratch, there was a very perceptible difference in the appearance of the men. Broome overtopped his adversary a good two inches, and was proportionably longer in reach. His weight, we are told, did not exceed 12st. 5lbs., but of this he might well have spared half a stone. There was much loose flesh about his back, chest, and ribs, and although he was evidently in rude health, he had not been drawn fine enough to stand a long day’s work under such a burning sun as shone down upon the combatants during the fight. Broome, had he been permitted to take that pains with himself requisite to make him fit, would have been about as awkward a customer as could have been well conceived. As it was, however, he was so much harassed with law and other proceedings that he could not pay that attention to his training that he otherwise would have done. We think at 11st. 8lbs. his condition would be about perfection. His attitude, as he stood awaiting the attack, was admirable, and, had it not been for his fat, he would have looked all over a gladiator. Orme, whose colour is almost mahogany, is barely 5ft. 8in. in height, but is a thick-set, powerful fellow, with a frame of iron, long arms, a perfect bull-neck, and a pair of understandings fit for an Atlas. His weight was 11st. 8lbs., and of this scarcely 2lbs. was superfluous stuff. His attitude, when on the defensive, is not graceful, but he looks rough and ready, his dangerous right being across his mark, but always ready to be dashed out at the least opening on his adversary’s ribs. It was clear that there was a determination on both sides “to do or die,” and the spectators made up their minds that they were in for a good thing. Before the men entered the ring, the betting was 6 and 7 to 4 on Broome, but these odds were, previous to the fight, increased to 2 to 1, at which price a good deal of business was done. The colours having been duly tied to the stakes (blue and white spot for Broome, green, with small white rings thereon for Orme), the signal was given that all was in readiness, and “time” was called.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Broome, after one or two feints, approached his man and attempted to draw him, but Orme was wary, and stepped back. They both then advanced and retreated several times, Broome repeatedly making attempts to kid his man within reach, but Orme was too wary. Broome scratched his ear, as endeavouring to rouse an idea what to do next, when Orme approached and lunged out heavily with his right out of distance; Broome then let fly both hands, but was neatly stopped. Orme now went up to his man and sent out both mauleys, but Broome jumped away. More sparring and fiddling, Orme several times stopping Broome’s left. At length Broome crept close again, lunged out one, two――his left was stopped, but his right just reached the left side of Orme’s nut; Orme returned very heavily with his right on the ribs, and after receiving a gentle tap on the forehead from Broome’s left, the latter closed, and both rolled over. This round lasted eight minutes, and at once showed to the spectators that Orme was much better on his legs and cleverer at stopping than the public had given him credit for.

2.――Again did each man make ineffectual feints out of distance. Broome at length let go his left, but Orme jumped cleverly away. Broome tried it again, but was stopped. “There’s luck in odd numbers,” however, for, in a third attempt, he got home heavily on Orme’s left peeper, and then on his mouth, and, on Orme rushing at him to make a return, Broome turned his back and ran round the ring. They quickly got together again, when, after one or two very slight exchanges, Orme got down.

3.――Broome, on nearing his man, led off with his left, and reached Orme’s kissing-trap. Sharp counter-hits followed, Orme reaching Broome’s left ogle with his right, and Broome getting heavily home on Orme’s right eye. A few weaving half-arm hits followed to a close, and both were down, Orme under.

4.――Broome feinted with his left, but it was no go. At length he succeeded in drawing Orme, who rattled at him, when Broome propped him heavily on the left peeper, drawing “first blood” from a cut on the brow. Some heavy exchanges followed, Orme delivering his right with terrific force on Broome’s ribs three times, and receiving heavy spanks in return on his right ogle and mouth, drawing more claret, and in the end, as Orme lunged out with his right, his head came forward, and Broome administered a terrific upper-cut in the mark, which doubled him up completely. Orme turned round, and gradually fell to the ground. It was now thought to be all over, but Orme, being in good condition, quickly rallied.

5.――Orme, on coming up, showed marks of Broome’s visitations on his right peeper, which was beginning to close, while the marks on Broome’s ribs proved that Orme’s right had done him good service in that quarter. Broome dodged his man, and on Orme poking his head forwards, instantly dashed in his left on the dexter optic. He tried to repeat it, but was stopped. Both now let fly out of distance, crept close, and Broome made his one, two, on the right eye and side of Orme’s canister. Orme returned with severity on the ribs, and then on Broome’s mouth. A pause ensued, during which Broome put down his hands. On lifting them again he approached Orme, planted one hand on the forehead, and the other on the left lug, and cleverly jumped away from Orme’s return. Broome made two attempts to repeat the dose, but Orme got quickly away. Orme now took a turn, swung out his right heavily on the ribs, and got away. Long sparring followed, during which the perspiration came from Broome’s every pore――the sun was insufferably hot for the time of year, and must have been distressing to both men. Caution was now the order of the day, until Broome got within distance, when he sent out his left and caught Orme on the right eye, but not heavily; this he repeated, when Orme again swung out his right, catching Broome heavily on the ribs, and jumped away. Some wild hitting out of distance succeeded, but, on their getting steadier, Broome let go his left spank in Orme’s mouth, and jumped away; again he crept close, made his one, two heavily on the left and right cheek, drawing claret from the latter. On Orme attempting to rush in, Broome again turned tail and ran across the ring. Orme followed him up, when Broome jumped quickly round and delivered his left heavily on the right cheek. Orme countered him heavily on the mazzard――received another spank on the right cheek, when Broome once more turned his back and retreated. Long sparring for wind now took place, after which there was some mutual stopping. Broome, at length caught Orme sharply on the mouth and right cheek, which brought them to a rally, in which Orme’s right was excessively busy on Broome’s ribs, while the returns of Broome did no execution. The repeated “thuds” on his ribs made Broome wince, and screw himself up, evidently with pain; he retired, blowing, while Orme (instead of following him up) stood in the middle of the ring until Broome recovered himself. The latter now popped in his left on the right cheek, but Orme countered him with the left heavily on the nozzle, drawing claret from a cut on the bridge of that organ, which, in Harry, as well as Johnny Broome, is slightly of the Roman order. Orme also caught Broome another spank on the ribs with his right, which led to heavy exchanges, in the course of which Broome reached Orme’s mouth and right cheek, while the latter caught Broome a tremendous hit on the left eyebrow, with his right, inflicting a deep, perpendicular cut, and drawing the ruby in profusion. Broome retired, and wiped away the fluid as it ran into his ogle, Orme again refusing to profit by opportunity, and go in while his man was confused. Broome soon recovered his presence of mind, went at his man, and, after some rattling exchanges, Orme was down, amidst the vociferous cheers of his friends, who considered that in this round he had infinitely the best of the hitting. It was a tremendous round, lasting sixteen minutes, during the greater part of which time the hitting was extremely severe.

6.――Both came up puffing, and their countenances considerably changed since the last round. After a good deal of sparring out of distance, Broome opened the ball, just reaching Orme’s nose with his left. A second attempt was frustrated by Orme jumping away and lunging out his right most viciously at the body; luckily, however, for the Champion, it did not reach him, or it would most assuredly have “found him at home.” Broome again crept up, caught Orme on the potato-trap with his left, but was prettily stopped in a second attempt. He tried once more, reached Orme’s left whisker-bed, but napped it heavily on the sore spot, his left eyebrow, from which a fresh tap was instantly opened. Broome retreated to wipe away the carmine from his peeper, and as Orme attempted to follow him up, he met him with a straight shooter on the mouth, which opened up another spring. This caused Orme to rush in wildly, when he caught it severely on the smeller, from which more claret trickled; Broome then closed, and, after a long struggle, threw and fell heavily on Orme.

7.――Broome led off with his left, but was neatly stopped; he tried again left and right, and was again parried, Orme returning a stinger with his right on the left eye. Orme now took the initiative, dashed in regardless of consequences, and was propped heavily on the left eye. This led to tremendous counter-hits with the left, each getting well home on his opponent’s smelling-bottle. A ding-dong rally followed, both getting it severely on the mouth and nose, left and right, and Orme punching Broome’s ribs with great severity. At length they closed, and rolled over together, Orme under.

8.――Both came up much the worse for wear. They sparred cautiously for wind, until Broome got close and sent out his left, which Orme parried, and missed his return. Broome led off twice in succession; the first time Orme jumped away, but the second Broome paid a visit to his right cheek. Orme then made his left on the chest, Broome returning with both hands on the side of his opponent’s nut and his right cheek-bone. Two more attempts were cleverly stopped by Orme, after which they rested a short time. Broome was first to recommence, caught Orme on the left cheek, and received another awkward reminder on the left eyebrow from Orme’s right sledge-hammer. Heavy exchanges followed, Orme getting well home on Broome’s mug and nose, and Broome on the right ogle and mouth. Broome now resorted to his old system of turning his back and running away, Orme after him. Broome at length turned round, let out his left, but was countered heavily on the nozzle and mouth. Heavy hits were now exchanged, left and right, and in the end Orme caught Broome full on the point of his conk, drawing the ruby in profusion, and knocking the Champion off his legs; “first knock-down” being awarded to Orme amidst vociferous cheering. This round, which, like the fifth, was extremely severe, lasted twelve minutes.

9.――Broome came up snuffling; the crack on his snuff-box in the last round had evidently been a teazer. His left eye was fast closing, and the hopes of the East Enders began to be in the ascendant. The betting receded almost to even money, and it was clear Broome had made the discovery that his adversary was no such catch as people had expected. He, nevertheless, opened the proceedings by dashing out his left, which was well stopped. Counter-hits followed, Broome reaching his opponent’s left cheek, and receiving in return on the mouth. Broome next made play left and right, caught the gallant Orme heavily on each cheek, and then, closing, threw and fell on him. (One hour had now elapsed.)

10.――Broome once more took the lead, but was prettily stopped. Heavy counter-hits followed, Broome on the nose and Orme on the left cheek. A close at the ropes succeeded, when Broome hugged Orme round the neck. Orme, however, punched away at his ribs until Broome released him, and Orme retreated to the centre of the ring, whither Broome followed him, and some heavy exchanges took place, Orme reaching Broome’s nose and left peeper, and Broome punishing him severely on the mouth. In the end Orme got down.

11.――Broome, first to open the ball, caught Orme sharply on the ivory box with his left, drawing claret and loosening several of his head rails. Orme would not be stalled off, but immediately rattled in, when some heavy counter-hitting took place, each getting it severely on the nose and mouth. A break away and at it again. The hitting in this round was really tremendous, both men staggering away after the counters, and each having his cork drawn to some purpose. At length they closed, and after a slight struggle Orme got down.

12.――Broome, in coming up, looked weak and distressed. Orme was also by no means in good order; both his cheeks were considerably swollen, and his mouth was “reethur” out of shape. Orme led off, but was well stopped. A second attempt from his right reached Broome’s ribs very heavily, and caused the latter to wince like a galled horse. He quickly got over it, however, and dashed out his left on Orme’s mouth. He tried again, but Orme stepped back, propping Master Broome on the sneezer with his left as he came in. Exchanges followed, Orme inflicting a fresh cut under Broome’s left peeper, and receiving sharply on his damaged kissing trap. In the end Orme got down to avoid the fall.

13.――Broome, after a little cautious sparring, let go his left and right, but was short, and Orme immediately returned on his right peeper; Broome retreated, and as Orme came after him Broome sent out his left on the mouth again, drawing the cork freely. Broome now made two attempts to get in his one, two, but on each occasion Orme was too quick for him, and jumped away. In a third attempt he reached Orme’s smeller, a heavy nose-ender, which again tapped his best October. He repeated the dose on the mug, whereupon Orme dashed in, caught him on the left cheek with his right, closed, and, after a short struggle, both were down.

14.――Orme feinted with his left, and then dashed in his right on Broome’s left ogle, a very heavy hit. Broome returned on the mouth, and then retreated; some sparring at a distance followed, and on their again getting close, Broome sent out both mawleys, but was cleverly stopped. Orme then popped in his left on the right cheek, and Broome, in getting away from further visitations, fell through the ropes.

15.――Both slow to the call of “time,” and on reaching the scratch they stood and looked at each other until Orme advanced, when Broome tried to meet him with his left, but Orme stopped him neatly twice, and at a third attempt jumped away. Orme then again crept in and made his right tell heavily on the ribs. Broome now sent home his left and right on the left ogle and nose of Orme, repeated the dose on the nose and mouth heavily, and as Orme dashed in with his right on the ribs, Broome caught him a tremendous upper-cut on the mark with his right, and Orme fell.

16.――Orme, on coming up, appeared to have suffered severely from the upper-cut in the last round; he was evidently much shaken, in addition to which both his eyes were gradually going. He nevertheless tried to lead off left and right, but his blows wanted power. Broome returned on the left cheek, and then on the mouth, Orme’s return being out of distance. Orme still persevered, but got propped heavily on the nose from Broome’s left. Broome at length closed, when Orme punched him heavily on the ribs, but Broome succeeded in throwing and falling heavily on him.

17.――Orme led off left and right, but was stopped; he then rushed in, and was propped heavily on the nose, and got down. (Time, one hour and a half.)

18.――Broome rattled in left and right on the ogles of Orme, and got away. Orme followed him up, reached his chest with the left, and was propped heavily on the left cheek. Broome closed, and catching Orme round the neck, hugged him until Orme dropped on his knees. Orme then put his hands round Broome’s thigh, but Broome got away, and walked to his corner. A claim of “foul” was made on the part of Broome, on the ground that he (Orme) had attempted to pull him over by catching him below the waistband. The claim, however, was not allowed, the referee believing that Orme was utterly unaware as to where he had caught hold of Broome.

19.――Broome again led off left and right, reaching Orme’s cheek and mouth heavily. A close, and some in-fighting in favour of Broome, followed by a break-away, and at it again, Broome delivering heavily on Orme’s nose and eyes, and drawing claret from several bottles. In the end Broome closed, and threw his man again, making the unpleasant addition of his own weight.

20.――Both long in answering to the call of time, but Broome first up. On getting close Orme caught Broome on the ribs, and was countered sharply on the nose. Broome then took the lead, and planted on his right cheek heavily. This brought them to some sharp exchanges in favour of Broome. In the end, Orme got down on his knees, and Broome caught him on the _os frontis_ with his left while in that position. A claim of “foul” was now made by Orme’s friends, but it was clear Broome’s blow had started before Orme reached the ground, and could not have been withheld. The decision was again “fair,” and the mill proceeded.

21.――Broome, after one or two feints, let go his left, reaching Orme’s snuff-box with effect; slight exchanges ensued, and Orme again got down weak.

22.――Broome, seeing his man was much shaken, at once went to work, caught Orme heavily on the left cheek, and closed at the ropes, where he hung on Orme; the latter pegged away at Broome’s ribs until he let him go, and Orme then planted his right heavily on Broome’s left cheek. Tremendous exchanges followed, each staggering from the effects of the blows, Broome reaching Orme’s left eye and nose, and he receiving on the left peeper and ribs. Broome then stepped back, and as Orme came again caught him heavily on the left ogle, and Orme fell. Both were now much distressed, and lay on their backs on the ground until time was called.

23.――Orme was the first at the scratch, and attempted to lead off, but Broome got cleverly away, and then went at his man, delivering both hands on the mouth and nose heavily, and jumped easily away from Orme’s returns, which were sadly out of distance. Orme, however, followed him up, and although Harry met him full on the snout, he planted his dangerous right on the ribs with astonishing effect. Harry then reached Orme’s sinister peeper heavily, drawing more of the Falernian, and finally shut up the shop. Rattling exchanges followed, Broome getting well home on the mouth, and receiving a slogging right-hander on the jaw, from the effects of which he staggered back and fell in his corner.

24.――Orme came up almost blind, but still he persevered; he feinted, and tried to get on to Broome, who stepped cleverly away, and waited for the attack. Orme did not keep him long in suspense, but dashed out left and right; the former was stopped, but the latter reached Broome’s damaged peeper, drawing more blood. Broome, however, by way of retaliation, cross-countered him on the nose heavily, again drawing a crimson stream. Broome now walked to his corner, took a sponge and wiped his eye, and went at it again, caught Orme heavily on the point of the nose with his left, and Orme dropped on his knees, Broome again catching him a snorter just as he reached _terra firma_, giving rise to another appeal, which was not allowed.

25.――Caution the order of the day, both evidently tired. Orme at last led off, and caught Broome with his right on the side of his cranium, on which Broome closed, and Orme immediately got down.

26.――Orme led off with his left, but was short. Broome quickly returned one, two, on his left cheek and mug, and got away from Orme’s return. Orme persevered and bored in, but Broome hit him straight on the cheek, Orme being again out of distance with his returns. At last he reached Broome’s ribs with a heavy right-hander, and Broome returned on the mouth. Both now retired to their corners, and permitted their seconds to wipe their phisogs for them, and took a pull of “Adam’s ale,” after which refreshing ceremony they once more returned to the scratch, and Broome let fly his left on Orme’s left cheek, closed, and after a short struggle both were down. (Two hours had now expired.)

27.――Broome set a good example by dashing out his left on Orme’s right cheek, which led to light exchanges at the ropes. Orme then walked to the middle of the ring, whither Broome followed, gave him a spank in the left eye, and walked away. He again approached his man, caught him heavily on the mouth, and in return received another rib-bender from Orme’s right. Broome now made his right tell on Orme’s ribs, and in getting away from the return fell.

28.――Orme, although almost in darkness, led off with his right on the ribs――he attempted a repetition, but Broome caught him heavily on the mouth and then on the nose. After some slight exchanges in favour of Broome, they again retired to their corners and had a rest, and came at it again; Orme was receiver-general, and in the end got down.

29.――Orme again led off, but was well stopped; he tried it yet once more, but from the style of his hitting it was pretty clear he could scarcely see his adversary. He, however, reached Broome’s ribs heavily after one or two attempts, and Broome missed a well-intended upper-cut in return. The latter, however, soon approached his now fast-sinking adversary, delivered his left and right heavily on Orme’s left ogle and smeller, drawing a fresh supply of claret from the latter, and knocking his man down.

30.――Orme came up very groggy and wild, but determined; he led off with his right, but Broome laughingly stepped on one side; he tried again but was stopped, and received heavily on the left eye and mouth, and was again knocked down. His backers and seconds, seeing that it was useless to prolong the contest, wished to throw up the sponge, but the gallant fellow would not hear of it, and he laid on his back until time was called, when he again went to the scratch for the

31st and last round.――It was evident that he came up only to receive, and that he was struggling against nature; he was all but blind, and tremendously punished about the head, but was still tolerably strong on his pins. He led off wildly, but of course was out of distance. Broome then went to him, administered the _coup de grâce_, in the shape of a gentle tap on the nose, and the brave fellow went to earth almost insensible. Tom Sayers now threw up the sponge, and Harry Broome was proclaimed the victor, and still Champion of England, amidst the vociferous cheers of his friends. The battle lasted exactly _two hours and eighteen minutes_. All being over, all at once made for the station to which the train had been removed, the vanquished man being conveyed there on a truck. The only personage left behind on the ground was Jem Burn, who, being still a martyr to the gout, declined attempting to walk a good mile along the railway to the station, and intimated his intention of remaining on the field of battle all night. All necessity for his imposing on himself such a penalty as this was, however, avoided by the engineer taking the engine and tender which had been attached to the train down the line to the place where “my nevvy” was located, and bringing him up, sitting on a heap of coke, to the door of the carriage in which his patrons were already seated. All now quickly ensconced themselves in the train, and the homeward journey was commenced about half-past four o’clock, and the Metropolis was reached about eight o’clock, after many stoppages. On the homeward passage a collection was made for the game and resolute Orme, which reached the handsome sum of £22, and this was considerably increased at the giving up of the stakes.

REMARKS.――This battle took everybody by surprise. On the one hand, there had been continual rumours that Broome never intended fighting, that he could not possibly get himself anywhere near fit, and that the match would end in a juggle. On the other, it was asserted that Orme had overreached himself, and was flying at too high game; that he would never be able to reach Harry Broome, and must be beaten in half an hour. Our readers will perceive, by the foregoing account, that the “croakers” were far from the mark. The fight was the best we have had for years between two big men. Broome has lost none of his scientific acquirements. He is a good straight hitter, clever at stopping, an excellent wrestler, and quick on his pins. He is, however, remarkably awkward in getting away when in difficulty――instead of jumping back, as we are accustomed to see others do, he turns his back and runs, leaving himself open to severe punishment from a cleverer tactician than Orme. Although he was much out of condition, and was hit very hard, both in the ribs and on the frontispiece, and several times was in great difficulties, he persevered most gamely throughout, and took his punishment like a thorough glutton. Should he make another match, he ought to commence training much earlier than he did on the present occasion, and reduce himself certainly to 11st. 10lb., which is the outside weight at which he ought to fight. If he does this, we think, looking at the way in which he fought on Monday, he will prove himself a tough customer to all comers, and the man who wrests the laurels of the Championship from him will have reason to be proud of his achievement. Orme, since his last battle with Aaron Jones, has wonderfully improved in science and quickness. On Monday, for a considerable length of time, Broome found it exceedingly difficult to get on to him; he could stop well, get away sharply, and, directly he saw an opening, was ready with his dangerous right, which, as will be seen above, proved a dreadful teaser to the flesh-covered ribs of Broome. We consider him to be the severest hitter of the present day, and did he but understand leading off with his left, instead of giving his head, as he must necessarily do when he makes play with his right, would be “hard to beat.” The knock-down blow on Broome’s nose and jaw, and one or two of the punches in the ribs, administered early in the fight, were of such a nature as for the time to reduce Broome to a standstill, and had Orme only possessed the requisite skill to follow up his advantage, things might have presented a very serious aspect as regarded Broome’s chance of winning. By saying that Orme did not possess skill, we do not for an instant impute to him a want of ordinary boxing capability, but a want of tact in knowing when to “force the pace,” and prevent his opponent recovering wind and strength. Had Orme been capable of pursuing that system, the result might have been “a horse of another colour.” This only applies to the earlier part of the contest. After the upper-cut administered on the mark in the 15th round, a great deal of the steel was taken out of Orme, and we are informed that he felt sick during the remainder of the fight, while Broome slowly, but surely, improved his position. Although Orme now and then got again on the damaged ogle and ribs, Broome almost invariably met him on the eyes and mouth, gradually reducing his chance, until, in the last round, he was completely blind, and nature had deserted him. Some remarks were made on the novelty of the men retiring to their corners, and “taking a drink” during the rounds. We do not recollect ever witnessing a similar scene before; but the want of condition on the part of Broome, combined with the heat of the day, was a very good excuse for his adopting such a plan, and as it was resorted to by one, there could, of course, be no reason why the example should not be followed by the other. The battle, from first to last, was a manly, upright struggle for pre-eminence――neither man attempted to take an unworthy advantage――and had it not been for the ridiculous appeals made by the seconds on each side, would have been a model mill in every sense of the word. Such a fight for the Championship has not been seen for very many years.

Once again the Old Tipton made public his “grievance,” declaring that the award of “foul” in their former encounter had deprived him of the honour of the belt and the profit of the stakes, and that the bold Harry held the Championship by “a fluke.” Harry accepted his offer, and articles were entered into, but when £25 were posted, Broome forfeited the money down; his plea being that he had an engagement with Aaron Jones (this went off), and another with Paddock. Forfeits seem to have been in fashion in 1855. On February 20th, 1855, Harry Broome forfeited £180 to Tom Paddock, and on March 12th, £10 to the same. In March, 1856, the Tipton received £70 forfeit from Aaron Jones; and on October 2nd, 1856, he also received £80 forfeit from Tom Paddock. Pleasant times for the _bonâ fide_ backers of men!

It would have been well for Broome’s fame had his hard-won victory over the gallant Harry Orme been the closing scene of his Ring career; his increasing bulk, as was evident to all who knew him, forbade the absolutely necessary reduction of weight which must precede anything like fitness for a pugilistic contest of a prolonged and severe character. Not so, however, thought Harry Broome. On the 12th of December, 1855, he signed articles with Tom Paddock, for £200 a side, for a meeting on May 19th, 1856, and on that day experienced his final defeat, of which the full details will be found in the Memoir of PADDOCK in our preceding chapter (pp. 294-303).

From this time forth Harry fell out of the rank of claimants for the “blue riband” of the P.R., leaving the struggle for supremacy to Paddock, Aaron Jones, the Tipton Slasher, and the little pugilistic phenomenon of 10st. 12lbs. who successively beat all three of them, and whose exploits form the subject of our next chapter.

Harry left London in 1856, and became the landlord of the Albion Tavern, in Warblington Street, Portsmouth, which was soon famous as a sporting rendezvous. From this house he backed several good men, the best known of whom was the unlucky Bill Bainge, or Benjamin, who as “Broome’s Novice” was twice unsuccessfully brought out to check the upward and onward career of Tom Sayers to the eminence of the Championship. For a few years following Harry was a public caterer and attendant at the principal race-meetings. The last time we met him in the flesh――and he had then too much of it――was at Epsom in 1865, in Gladiateur’s year, when, in reply to an inquiry after his health and prospects, he told us he was “in charge” of the Count Lagrange’s invaluable horse; we suspect as a “watcher,” for which he was formidably well qualified, physically as well as mentally. He was, however, aptly described by a friend as “all to pieces,” and this was shown by his death, which soon followed, on the 2nd of November in the above-named year, at the early age of 39 years.[27]

[27] It may interest some readers to know that we are indebted to Harry Broome’s early opponent, Joe Rowe, for the original of the portrait which faces the first page of this memoir. In our search after authentic likenesses, we learned that “Joe” still flourished as the proprietor of a cigar and tobacco store in Sun Street, Finsbury. Thither we bent our steps, and there we found a pleasant-spoken and young-looking specimen of the fair sex, who, in answer to our inquiries, announced herself as Mrs. Rowe. Our first impression was that we had chanced upon “Young Joe’s” bride; but no, it was the spouse of “Old Joe,” who was “kicking up behind and before,” and in his sixty-second year is proprietor of the lady and the “Sultan Cigar Stores.” A shake of the hand and a recognition, a smoke, and a “liquor-up,” renewed acquaintance; and as Joe has a portfolio of “sporting celebrities,” he cheerfully placed them at our disposal, for which we thus record our thanks.

APPENDIX TO PERIOD VII.

Of the numerous pugilistic pretenders who did battle during the years comprised between the Championships of Bendigo and that of Harry Broome, few deserve the honour of a separate memoir, or even of a recapitulation of their battles. The best of the fights, indeed, may be safely credited to the middle and light-weight men, who were, by their class, excluded from competing with the big ones for the Championship.

Of these, Hammer Lane, Jem Wharton (Young Molyneaux), Johnny Broome, Johnny Hannan, Owen Swift, Ned Adams, Mike Madden, Bill Hayes, Donnelly, and others, will be found in the Author’s “Recollections of the Ring,” to which the reader is referred. Here it is proposed to insert, with a brief notice, the best battle of such heavy-weights as appear in these pages as the antagonists of the men whose biographies are included in this Period.

I.――BRASSEY (JOHN LEECHMAN), OF BRADFORD, AND YOUNG LANGAN, OF LIVERPOOL, FOR £100.

In the Memoir of CAUNT (_ante_ pp. 60-69) will be found the details of Brassey’s gallant contest with the gigantic Champion, October 26th, 1840. That John Leechman had fair pretentions to be selected by his patrons to do battle with “Big Ben,” the subjoined account of his fight with Young Langan, of Liverpool, in the October of the previous year, will show.

John Leechman, whose height was six feet, and weight 12st. 7lbs., was born at Bradford, in Yorkshire, on the 1st of January, 1815. His first battle, recorded in “Fistiana,” was in 1831, when, at the age of 16, he defeated one Thomas Hartley, at Eccles Moor, near Leeds, after a tough fight of an hour and a quarter. On August 24th, in the same year, he took the same time to batter one Ned Batterson, in 72 rounds. He then fought, at Harpurhey, near Manchester, in May, 1833, Young Winterflood, of Nottingham, for an hour, when the affair ended in a wrangle. Brassey next met the well-known Jem Bailey, at Baildon Moor, and beat him, on the 24th of April, 1835, in 74 rounds, occupying 2 hours and a quarter; Brassey being at the same time sadly out of condition. Tom Scrutton was also disposed of in 20 minutes, 17 rounds, on January 11th, 1836; and this brings us to Brassey’s battle with the eccentric Bendigo. In the memoir of that boxer (_ante_ pp. 7, 8), will be found the particulars of that defeat, which took place near Sheffield, on the 24th of May, 1836. Brassey’s former antagonist, Jem Bailey, now came out, and demanded a second trial, to which Brassey assented, and the men met at Hales Green, near Pulham, Norfolk. Although Brassey had won the fight in the 71st round, through the indecision or misconduct of the referee, Bailey’s backers raised a dispute, sued the stakeholder, and recovered back their money. We now come to the battle with Young Langan, of Liverpool, which, except his defeat by Tass Parker, is Brassey’s only fight worth preserving.

This contest, which was decided on the 8th of October, 1839, at Woodhead, in Cheshire, excited an unusual degree of interest, not only among the friends of each man, but throughout all sporting circles in Yorkshire, Lancashire and the Midlands. Brassey was trained near Norwich, under the personal superintendence of the veteran Ned Painter, who accompanied his pupil to the scene of action. Langan took his exercise at Bootle, near Liverpool, in company with Tommy Britton, and his condition was pronounced “perfect.” The ring was formed by the Liverpool Commissary, and at 25 minutes past one Brassey, accompanied by Bill Hall, and Gregson Green, the “sporting sweep,” as seconds, threw in his hat, and was quickly followed by Young Langan, amidst loud cheering from the Liverpool contingent. The day was magnificent, the sun shining with splendour, and as Langan lost the toss for corners, Brassey was placed with his face to the north. Each man was near upon 13 stone, but Brassey was a little the taller. An objection having been taken to the length of the spikes in Langan’s shoes, “the Morocco Prince,” who acted as his second, condescended to waive his dignity, and a file being procured, he sat down, and in a most workmanlike style reduced the sharp projections to the dimensions of “sparrowbills.” Again some delay took place in the selection of a referee; this point settled, the men stripped for action. The colours, an orange bandanna for Brassey, and a green and yellow for Langan, being knotted to the stake, at 23 minutes past two the men shook hands and stood up for

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Each advanced to the scratch, Langan cool and smiling, Brassey looking serious and earnest. After slight manœuvring, Langan tried his left, and caught his opponent upon the mug. Brassey was impetuous, as if his anxiety was outstripping his prudence. He looked sternly at his antagonist, let fly, and planted two successive right-handers upon Langan’s frontispiece――one upon the left eye, and the other on the potato-trap; a close, and both down. Upon Langan’s rising “first blood” was claimed for Brassey, which was perceptible upon Langan’s mouth.

2.――Langan still wore a good-natured smile, while Brassey appeared serious, and the eagerness which he displayed was checked by several of his friends, who saw that although “his soul was in arms and eager for the fray,” yet a little more of “the better part of valour――discretion,” might prevent an accident. A little sparring――Brassey using his arms _à la Bendigo_. Closer and closer went the men, and a few smart exchanges took place, when they fell upon the ropes; a brief struggle ensued, and both went to the ground.

3.――No alteration of moment was to be seen upon either of the men, except that Langan’s left eye seemed rather inclined to renounce the plebeian cast, and become “a swell.” Langan held his right arm upon his breast, and his left a little advanced; feints from both, when Langan shot out with his left, caught Brassey upon the pimple, and sent him to grass. Brassey’s second objected to this being considered a knock-down blow, but the referee decided “first knock-down blow” in favour of Langan.

4.――Brassey came to the scratch with as much eagerness as ever, and scowled upon his rival. Langan was not dismayed, and the smile of good-humour, before noticed, assumed, for an instant, that of derision; he was, however, cautious, and played about actively. Brassey tried his right, was well parried, ditto with his left, when Langan receded a pace or two, and escaped a nasty one for his nob. Langan tried his luck, when a rapid bout of in-fighting ensued, which terminated in Brassey’s being thrown.

5.――Upon “time” being called, Langan marched to the centre of the ring, and as Brassey did not appear inclined to advance so far, Langan pointed to the scratch, as much as to say, “Come to the spot, my boy.” Brassey kept his station, when Langan “crossed the Rubicon,” and a long, dodging round took place, each trying his left mauley occasionally without effect, until they reached a corner of the ring, when a slashing rally followed――Brassey down.

6.――Brassey was now more quiet in his demeanour, but still intent upon mischief; in fact, had he not softened down the very strong penchant for going in, which he evinced during the five preceding rounds, it is questionable whether his eagerness would not have led him headlong into mischief. Each man eyed the other with determination, Langan tried his left, no go――again, it would not fit――again he essayed, and caught Brassey a good left-hander upon his dial, receiving a straight left-handed one in return upon his snuff-box. A quick rally, mutual exchanges, when once more Brassey fell.

7.――The visit which Brassey had paid to Langan’s snout was far from pleasant and the claret flowed profusely; the left eye also of the young Hibernian began to puff, and increase beyond its natural dimensions. Lengthened sparring. A close; Langan got away; the men closed again, when some severe blows from the right and left took place, the punishment being about equal, and in the struggle both went down, Langan first on the floor.

8.――The concluding rally of the last round had not been mere play, for each man’s phisog bore _striking proofs_ of handy work. Brassey was cut over the right eyebrow, and was bleeding copiously; and Langan’s left was following suit, except that his wound was under the eye, and his opponent’s over. Extreme caution was now the password. Sparring, and no attempt at a single blow for nearly six minutes, which drew forth some volleys of hisses at the tardiness of the performers. Two minutes more elapsed, and no inclination to go to work, when Langan tried his left, missed, and caught a tremendous left-hander upon his nut, which, we fancy, suffered less than his assailant’s knuckles, and Brassey slipped down.

9.――Langan evidently wished to repay Brassey for his kindness, and planted two successive right-handers, one upon his weasand, and the other upon his nob. (Loud cheers for Langan.) A close, both down.

10.――Sparring and manœuvring (5 to 4 on Langan). Brassey looked daggers, made a feint with his right, and made a lunge with his left upon Langan’s body corporate. Langan quickly tried a right-handed return, failed, immediately seconded his intention with an effectual one, when some excellent counters ensued, and Brassey went down.

11.――The men met, when Brassey dropped his arms straight down, looked and nodded to his opponent. Langan maintained his position, and smiled (loud applause). Protracted sparring. Dodging all round the ring: another halt; more procrastination. (“Go to work,” cried the Morocco Prince; I’m tired of this sort of play.”) All was of no avail, the men still continued sparring, at last an indifferent rally ended suspense, and Brassey was thrown. This round lasted sixteen minutes and a half, and no real work done.

12 and 13.――Mutual returns, with considerable bodily exertion, both down in the struggle.

14.――Very slight variation from the two last.

15.――Counters. Brassey lunged out, and gave Langan an effective muzzler, receiving an excellent left-hander by way of “change,” upon his brow, which set the crimson flowing. Langan went to his antagonist, when Brassey slipped and fell.

16.――Langan’s lip began to swell, and the gash under his left eye still emitted the claret. Brassey’s first wound was quite dried up, and a stranger might have pronounced it three or four days old. After a little sparring, Langan shot out with his left, and fell from the over-reach of his own blow.

17.――Give and take; Brassey down.

18.――Langan was advancing to the scratch, when some cowardly rascal pitched a clod at him, which struck him on the hip, without doing any damage. A tedious round, when Brassey fell, escaping in his fall a right-handed upper-cut from Langan’s bunch of fives.

19.――Hit for hit; when Langan, in striking out, as Brassey jumped back, caught him just below the belt with his right. An appeal, but the referee decided the blow to be unintentional, and consequently fair, and the fight proceeded, Langan getting the worst of the rally; both down.

20, 21, 22, 23, 24.――All in favour of Brassey. A great uproar and confusion took place in the last round, in the outer ring, which threatened an interruption of the mill, but, after some delay, the tumult was quelled, and the spectators resumed their stations.

25 to 33.――Each of these rounds were, more or less, in favour of Brassey, although he was invariably undermost.

34.――Langan’s frontispiece was sadly disfigured, whilst Brassey’s was tolerably symmetrical. This may be accounted for from the fact of Brassey’s flesh not swelling, nor his wounds remaining fresh, but quickly assuming the appearance of cuts of some standing. From this to the 39th round, Langan gradually lost ground, though he never flinched from fairly meeting his man.

40.――Another uproar in the outer ring, with the addition of a few heavy clods flying about, the Liverpool party containing some noisy members. The men proved themselves good ’uns in reality, for they paid no attention to the row, but kept to their work, caught each other’s open left hand, and delivered two terrific round swinging right-handers upon each other’s corpus. After some little fibbing Brassey went down, and Langan rolled over him.

41 to 44.――Brassey was evidently gaining ground, and in the latter round Langan severely injured his right leg in falling against a stake, which made him lame for the remainder of the fight.

45.――Nothing material in this round, except one dishonourable knave deliberately cutting the rope of the inner ring, and had it not been for the praiseworthy activity of little Billy Critchley in splicing the same, would doubtless have finished the mill with a wrangle.

46 to 51.――Brassey’s friends were in transports. Victory was now booked as certain, and the rowdy upon Brassey could find no takers.

52.――Langan rallied, and up to the 56th round may be said at intervals to have turned the tide in his own favour; nay, even bets were loudly proclaimed, but little tin was sported.

57.――Brassey was evidently at sea, and the Langanites bawled most lustily. Compliment for compliment, each party alternately cheering on their man until Brassey fell.

58 to 62.――Both men fought well and to win. Brassey’s lower lip had received some stingers from his opponent in the way of cutting and carving, while Langan’s phisog was quite the reverse of what Lavater would term “the exquisite,” strongly reminding us of Kenney Meadows’s “Gallery” portrait of the “Man wot won the fight.”

63.――To all appearances it was now extremely doubtful which would be the victor. Hit for hit――right and left――give and take――advance and retreat, until both heroes fell over the ropes and out of the ring.

64.――Brassey came up and lost no time in drawing the claret from Langan’s right peeper, but slipped down from exertion.

65.――Langan’s mug was awful, his left ogle nearly closed, and he looked more languid than in any round previously; this and the 66th round told against him.

67.――One effort more; Brassey missed his left, Langan grasped him, and with a vigorous strength which we at this time thought he did not possess, threw him heavily.

68.――From this to the 73rd round Langan gradually continued losing, his left eye being quite closed, his right much swollen, and his lips as thick as those of Massa Molyneaux; Brassey seemed recovered, and was nearly as fresh as ever.

74.――Brassey, bent upon finishing as soon as possible, met his man, delivered his left, then retreated, and as Langan stumbled forward, delivered two tremendous right-handed blows, which felled him to the ground.

75.――Upon time being called, Langan was deaf to the cry, and Brassey was pronounced the conqueror after a protracted struggle of _two hours and thirty-five minutes_.

REMARKS.――The instant the men had peeled the disparity in height and length of arm was apparent, which nothing short of superior science and activity on the part of Langan, which he certainly did not possess, could have overcome. In science Brassey is fully equal to Langan, while in lasting power he is his superior. In the quality of game Langan proved himself a hero; he only gave in when nature left him powerless to continue the contest. Brassey was quickly himself, and walked to his carriage, and Langan, though by far the most punished, said, soon after, that he was fairly beaten. Both men left the ground, as all British boxers should, with no feeling of ill-will towards each other.

II.――TASS (HAZARD) PARKER, OF WEST BROMWICH, AND JOHN LEECHMAN (BRASSEY), OF BRADFORD, FOR £100.

After Brassey’s defeat by Caunt, already referred to, Tass Parker, of West Bromwich, offered himself to the notice of Brassey, proposing to meet him halfway between Bradford and West Bromwich, for £100. Parker, (whose best fighting weight was 11st. 10lbs.) at catch weight, and Brassey not to exceed 12st. 7lbs. on the day of fighting, which was fixed for the 13th of July, 1841; a date which was subsequently extended to the 10th of August, on which day the men met at Brunt Lays, near Worksop, under the circumstances and with the result we are now about to narrate.

Though the match was originally made in Manchester, the celebrity of the men lent a metropolitan interest to the battle, and on the receipt of a letter, dated the previous Friday, naming Lindrick Common, Notts, near Eckington, on the borders of Yorkshire, as the rendezvous, the writer booked himself, on the Monday, by the North Midland Rail for Worksop. On arriving at that place he ascertained that Brassey was already snugly ensconced at a small inn on the borders of Lindrick Common, aforesaid, under the care of a liberal backer and Jemmy Wharton (Young Molyneaux). Brassey was in high spirits and full of confidence, yet we did not, upon a close scrutiny, consider him up to the mark, and there was a feverishness in his pulse when we shook hands with him that induced us to question the Black, whereon we were informed that he had made an eccentric bolt from his training quarters a few days before, and that otherwise he had not been strictly observant of the rigid discipline indispensable to A 1 condition. Nevertheless his friends not only declared him “all right,” but offered the odds of 6 to 4 in proof of their good opinion. On the same night Parker arrived, accompanied by Nick Ward, and by Jack Hunt, of Birmingham. He domiciled at the “Red Lion,” where we saw him on the following morning. He was in rude health, his corpus as firm as collared brawn, and in expressing confidence he was by no means more backward than his foe. The expediency of an early meeting at the scene of action being admitted, it was agreed that Brassey should go to scale at 10 o’clock, and that as soon as possible afterwards operations should commence――a prospect extremely agreeable to some hundreds, who were desirous of returning the same day to the distant localities from whence they had come, among whom we noticed several Corinthians of “the upper crust,” and staunch supporters of the fistic art.

Precisely at 10 o’clock we reached the Common, where an immense multitude had already assembled, in every order of vehicle, and including an extraordinary field of equestrians, who were, however, far out-numbered by the muster of _toddlers_, a vast number of whom had devoted the night to the exercise of their pedestrian powers. The scene was altogether most animated, and rendered not the less so by a huntsman and a pack of foxhounds taking their morning exercise in the distance. To all this, however, there were drawbacks which threatened mischief; the first was the fact of our having passed a body of the rural police for Nottinghamshire on their march to the Common, and the next and more serious, the actual presence of a worthy beak for the county of York, who, however loth, declared he could not permit hostilities to take place within his jurisdiction. Thus Nottinghamshire and Yorkshire were _tabooed_, but as Derbyshire, close adjoining, was unrepresented, it was at once resolved to conduct the candidates for milling fame to its hospitable meads. In the interim Brassey was found to be as he should be in “pounds avoirdupois,” and a general move to the “land of promise” took place. Of pilots there were abundance, but, as it turned out, not equally happy in their knowledge of the county; for while Parker and his friends took one road, Brassey and the Commissary, with the ropes and stakes, took another. The latter led through bridle paths of the most villainous description, which had never been traversed but by farmers’ carts, and through which it was with the greatest difficulty the carriages could be dragged, not only from the narrowness of the roads, but from the horrifying ruts by which they were cut up. At last, after indescribable difficulties, this portion of the cavalcade reached a field in which it was said the two counties of York and Derby were divided by a small bank. Here, with great difficulty, from the rocky character of the subsoil, the ring was formed, and all waited with patience for the arrival of Parker and his division; but they waited in vain. It was now ascertained that the ring was still in the county of Nottingham; a fatal error. At last, when patience was exhausted, news arrived that Parker had been more successfully led by turnpike roads to a place called Brunt Lays, near Worksop, and to that place a move became inevitable.

The materials of the ring having been once more transferred to the cart in which they had been brought, another pilgrimage was commenced through paths if possible more perilous than the former, till finally by two o’clock the desired goal was reached, and a fresh arena formed. But here a new difficulty arose: the carriages and carts drew so close round the ring that it was impossible to drive back the dense masses which had congregated. There was but one remedy, and this was to carry off the _materiel_ to a new position, where in maiden ground a more extensive field of action was secured, and the throng as it approached being marshalled with a due regard to the formation of a spacious area, the preliminaries were happily and conveniently adjusted for the accommodation of all parties; the pedestrians forming the inner circle, and the outer circle being composed of carriages, carts, waggons, and horsemen. There were scarcely less than ten thousand persons present, and a more imposing spectacle has seldom been witnessed on any similar occasion. The police were in the rear of the cavalcade as it moved, but they did not attempt to interfere, merely intimating that “such scenes were contrary to Act of Parliament,” a piece of information as novel as it was ineffective in preventing sport.

All being in readiness, the heroes were summoned to the lists; Parker from an adjacent farm-house, where he had been hospitably sheltered, and Brassey from the carriage which had conveyed him to the ground. Brassey first made his appearance, attended by “King Dick” and Hall, with a host of friends sporting their bright “yellowmen.” On throwing his castor within the ropes he was received with shouts. Parker next presented himself, under the care of Hunt and Nick Ward, and also escorted by his backers, displaying fogles bearing the insignia of the Royal Standard of England in four compartments. His reception was far from flattering, and the yells of the roughs completely drowned the friendly cheers of his admirers, but they created a strong sympathy in his favour among the advocates of fair play. Betting was commenced with great briskness, and 6 to 4 were freely laid and taken――Brassey being of course the favourite. There was the usual admission of privileged spectators within the outer circle on the payment of a stipulated fee, and the difficulty of preserving order was proportionately increased; but at last all was tolerably well adjusted, and the men commenced their toilettes. The toss for choice of position was won by Brassey, who not only took the higher ground, but placed his back to the sun, which was happily shining with great brilliancy――more favourable weather could not in fact have been enjoyed. The colours of the men having been tied to the stakes in the usual way, a curious scene followed. Several of the partisans of each who wore colours agreed to bet them one against the other, and these were also entwined to different stakes, giving to the ring an appearance of unusual gaiety, from the brightness of the kerchiefs as they fluttered in the breeze. Umpires and a referee having been chosen, little time was lost in commencing business.

On Brassey being stripped his appearance by no means altered the estimate we had formed of his condition on the previous night. He was “unshaven” and “unshorn;” barbers being unknown on Lindrick Common, he had not been able to obtain the assistance of one of the fraternity. This gave a haggardness to his countenance――not the most prepossessing――which was not calculated to raise him in the estimation of the spectators. His flesh, too, appeared flabby, and there was an absence of that healthful glow and muscular development which was observable at his contest with Caunt. He struck us, too, as being out of spirits, although there was no indication of the want of personal confidence. Parker, on the contrary, was obviously “up to the mark,” his skin was clear and fresh in colour, and his muscles exhibited a tensity indicative of rude health, while his bearing was marked by unusual confidence. On standing together the disparity of size was not so remarkable as might have been supposed, although in height and frame Brassey had clearly the advantage. At twenty minutes to three o’clock the men were conducted to “the scratch,” and their seconds retired to their corners.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Brassey, on throwing himself into position, stood erect, with his hands well up and his head thrown back, but his manner was stiff and constrained. There was nothing of that graceful ease which distinguishes an accomplished master of the art, and which is characteristic of quickness and activity. Parker was more free in his action, his shoulder and head thrown slightly forward, and his arms free and in playful attitudes, low, but ready for a fly. Brassey waited for the assault, and on Parker making one or two dodges, showed himself well on his guard. Brassey advanced, but Parker broke away; at last Parker let go his left, but was stopped. Brassey again made a forward motion, and Parker retreated. Brassey let out his right, but was short, and Parker instantly popped in his left and fell. (Cries of “Nick Ward has come to town” from the Brasseyites.)

2.――Parker evidently creeping in to hit, Brassey waiting. Slight exchanges with the left, when Brassey popped in his right on Parker’s nose, and in the scuffle Parker got down (cries of “First blood from Parker”), and in a short time the purple fluid was seen trickling from his nasal promontory.

3.――Brassey on his guard, but Parker succeeded in popping in his right; his left went over Brassey’s shoulder. After slight exchanges, Parker was down, his nozzle still bleeding.

4.――Parker tried his left and right, but did not get home. Brassey rushed to him and hit him slightly on the ear with his right. He was preparing for further mischief, but Parker slipped down, holding on by the ropes with his left.

5.――Parker led off again, left and right, but without effect. Brassey followed him, and in a wild rally, in which trifling hits were exchanged, Brassey fell back on his knee.

6.――Parker, who was the first to go to work, planted his left and right on Brassey’s dial. Brassey tried his left in return, but was short, and Parker slipped down.

7.――Parker short with his left and right, Brassey stepping back. Brassey attempted to return with his left, but was also short. Parker, in a second attempt, was more successful, and delivered his left on Brassey’s ogle. Brassey returned a round hit with his right on Parker’s pimple. Slight exchanges, when Parker let go his left with dire intent, but Brassey ducked his nob and got away. In a scramble which followed Parker got down.

8.――Parker dodging, Brassey waiting; Parker let go his right, which got home on Brassey’s cheek, but missed his left. Brassey made play, but Parker retreated and slipped on his knee, looking up at Brassey as he approached. Brassey walked quietly to his corner.

9.――Brassey now changed his tactics and led off, but Parker got away. Slight counter-hits with the left. Parker retreated, but, waiting an opportunity, popped in his left twice in succession. Brassey followed, contemplating mischief, but Parker got down. (Cries of “Foul,” but no notice taken by the umpires.)

10.――Parker tried his left and right, but Brassey got away. Brassey advanced, hit round with his right, but was short. Wild exchanges with no effect, and Parker down.

11.――Parker was the first to make play, tried his left and right but did not get home. He retreated, when Brassey followed him up, shoved out his left, and Parker went down.

12.――An exchange of trifling hits, and Parker down to avoid.

13.――Up to this time there was no visible appearance of punishment on either, with the exception of the first blood already noticed. Parker put in his left and right, when Brassey caught him round his neck with his left, and gave him a crack on the ear with his right. Parker slipped down to avoid a repetition of the compliment.

14.――(2 to 1 on Brassey). Counter-hits with the left, but that of Brassey was more like a shove than a hit; it wanted elbow-grease, and made no impression. Brassey closed, grasped his man with his left, and was about to fib him with his right when Parker slipped down to avoid.

15.――Brassey came up eyeing his antagonist with contempt. Parker approached him slowly, and let fly his left and right, catching him on the phiz. Brassey rushed at him to return the compliment, but Parker went down “nasty,” quite in the Nick Ward style.

16.――Parker, as usual, opened the ball, but was stopped left and right. Brassey ran to him, hit out slightly with his left, when Parker fell on his back, Brassey falling over him, with his knees on each side of his body.

17.――Parker hit over Brassey’s shoulder with his left, and was going down to avoid when Brassey hit him with his right hand open on the back.

18.――Parker again hit over with his left, and Brassey followed him to the ropes, hitting, without precision, left and right, while Parker retreated and fell on his knees.

19.――Smart exchanges left and right, Parker napping it on the auricular, and down to escape a repetition of the dose.

20.――Parker popped in his left heavily on Brassey’s mouth, from whence blood was drawn. It was a stinging smack Brassey rushed after him in the retreat, when Parker fell, Brassey upon him.

21.――Smart counters with the left, and Brassey again paid a visit to Parker’s listener. Parker, on Brassey’s efforts to engage him in a rally, went down.

[This falling system on the part of Parker caused many expressions of contempt on the part of Brassey’s friends, and he was called upon to “stand up and fight like a man.”]

22.――Parker pursued his dodging system, and again delivered his left on Brassey’s mouth. Brassey caught him with his right on the side of the head, but was unable to get home with his left; Parker dropped.

23.――A trifling exchange of hits left and right, when Parker got down, Brassey falling upon him.

24.――Counter-hits with the left, but Brassey did not get well home. Brassey tried to bring his man to a rally, but he went down to avoid.

25.――Parker hit short with his left and retreated to his corner. Brassey followed boldly, when he napped it from the right on the jaw. Brassey hit out left and right, missing his man, and Parker went down.

26.――Parker hit slightly left and right, but in getting away from the return slipped down.

27.――Brassey led off, missing his left and right, when Parker got away and went down.

28.――Parker, as usual, led off with his left, but caught it in return from Brassey’s right on the lug. In the close Parker caught Brassey round the waist, threw, and fell on him, thereby showing that he possessed strength enough if he had but courage to use it.

29.――Counter-hits, followed by a close, in which, after a slight struggle, Brassey threw Parker on his back and fell on him. Parker in going down caught at Brassey’s face open-handed, and drew blood from his mouth. (Cries of “He’s gouging him,” and exclamations of disgust.)

30.――Wild fighting, in which trifling exchanges took place, and Parker went down, Brassey falling on his knees beside him.

31.――Parker led off, but Brassey retreated, hitting out wildly. Parker rushed in to him, and Brassey fell as he stepped back. From this to the 38th round little mischief was done. Parker generally led off, and occasionally delivered heavy blows left and right, which began to tell on Brassey’s phisog; Brassey was far from idle, but Parker invariably pursued his dropping system when mischief was likely to ensue.

39.――In this round they looked at each other for some time with their arms down, Brassey laughing and shaking his flabby sides, but still fresh and vigorous. At last, on approaching nearer, Brassey let go his left, with little effect. In the short rally which followed Brassey received a heavy right-handed thump on the jaw, and Parker went down.

In a rally in the 44th round heavy blows were exchanged, Parker catching it on the nose, which again commenced bleeding, but he still pursued his getting down system. In the 46th round Brassey led off, hitting Parker on the ear with his right, and repeating the dose with his left on the mouth and nose; Parker down bleeding, and 3 to 1 offered on Brassey, although he had evidently received the worst of the punishment. Parker’s pusillanimous system of dropping excited general disapprobation, but he contrived so to time his tactics as to keep within the pale of the law. Brassey’s seconds, finding that Parker’s one two was invariably set aside when Brassey led off, urged him to let fly the moment Parker approached; from these assaults, Parker, stopping left and right, retreated, but in the 55th round went down so palpably without a blow, that cries of “Foul!” burst from all quarters. An appeal was instantly made to the referee, who, however, would not pronounce his judgment till properly applied to by the umpires, to whom no appeal was at all made, and Brassey, instead of retiring to his corner, as he ought to have done, to await a deliberate decision, rushed to take the handkerchiefs from the stake, an example which “King Dick” followed. At this moment Parker approached Brassey, struck him a heavy blow with his right, and a desperate rally ensued; heavy hits were exchanged left and right, and in the close both were down. On rising to their seconds’ knees both showed severe marks of punishment, Parker on his left ear, and Brassey on his mouth and left eye. This renewal of the combat with such mutual good will necessarily set aside the claim of “foul,” and thereby deprived Brassey of the verdict of “victory,” which would doubtless have been given in his favour.[28]

56.――Counter-hits with the left, when Brassey caught Parker another of his terrific round hits on the ear, and after a short scramble Parker got down.

57.――A rally, in which heavy hits were exchanged, Parker down, Brassey falling upon him with his knees. (“Foul” was claimed for Parker, but the intention was not sufficiently apparent to justify a decision in his favour, added to which, he provoked the act by his own tricks.)

From this to the 100th round the same style of fighting was pursued, with alternate changes, Parker receiving some heavy lunges from Brassey’s right on his ear, which was dreadfully swollen, and presented a most unseemly aspect, and Brassey catching it repeatedly on the mouth and face――the former of which was cut, and the latter exhibited marks of repeated visitations. Parker went down at the termination of almost every round, obviously to avoid punishment; but although this system was cowardly, and opposed to the character of a fair stand-up fight, he contrived so to time his prostrations, as to keep himself within the pale of the law; blows, however slight, having been exchanged. The unnecessary length of the spikes in his shoes might have had some influence in the falls, but it was too clear that he wanted a heart to stand up manfully to give and take in the old English fashion. From the 100th to the 117th round the same objectionable system was pursued; but although numerous hits were exchanged, and the marks of punishment on the side of Parker’s head and Brassey’s frontispiece increased in severity, there was still no decisive mischief done. Brassey’s left seemed to be of little use to him; and although with Caunt he used it with cutting effect, with Parker he did no execution, and the right side of Parker’s face was literally without a mark. Nevertheless, in the 118th round, Brassey was the favourite at 2 to 1. From the 118th to the 127th round, during which time the same style of tactics was adopted, little visible alteration took place in the spirits of the men, both coming to the scratch with confidence, but slowly. In the latter round, however, Parker succeeded in delivering a heavy blow with his right on Brassey’s nob, who fell in a state of apparent insensibility. All was now thought to be over, and a simultaneous rush took place from all quarters to the ring. “Time” was called, to which Brassey did not respond. Parker, for whose personal safety from the crowd apprehensions were evidently entertained, was almost immediately taken away, his seconds and friends claiming the battle. To the astonishment of all, however, Brassey rose, and declared his readiness to renew the combat, a claim which the referee, when appealed to, allowed; for although more than eight seconds had elapsed, by which time he ought to have been at the scratch, still, as he had not been duly summoned――the umpires having, in the confusion, neglected their duty――he was fairly entitled to the advantage. In like manner it was determined that Parker, who quitted the ring without first going to the scratch, to which he had not been called, was absolved from the penalty of the loss of the battle to which his absence might otherwise have exposed him.

[This, again, imposes on seconds and umpires the absolute necessity of obtaining a perfect knowledge of their duty, and strictly adhering to its dictates. From the great confusion which prevailed in this instance some excuse may be found, but it only confirms our repeated observations on the great disadvantage arising from permitting throngs of partisans to congregate close to the milling arena, who, by shouts and exclamations, tend to interfere with that cool and dispassionate judgment which the umpires and referee should be permitted to exercise, and which, in ancient times, was perfectly secured, none but the umpires and referee being then permitted to sit close to the ropes and stakes.]

Some delay took place before Parker returned, one of his seconds declaring he had been knocked down, an assertion which proved without foundation, although on his way to his carriage he had certainly fallen, and execrations were showered upon him from the friends of Brassey.

With the 128th round the fight was renewed, but amid such a riotous display of party feeling from the crowd, which could not be driven back from the ring, that it was difficult to note the changes which took place. Brassey exhibited unshrinking “game,” and succeeded in planting some heavy blows with his right on Parker’s ear, while the latter was occasionally equally successful in delivering his left and right on his opponent’s disfigured mug. Parker, as usual, preserved his cautious or rather questionable generalship, and no sooner found himself in danger than he got down. In point of freshness he had a decided superiority over the unfortunate Brassey, and not only hit oftener but harder. In the 143rd round he planted the first heavy body-blow with his right, the effects of which were instantly visible on Brassey’s countenance, who was almost doubled up with pain. In the next round he was equally successful with his left on the body, and Brassey was again down. For the three succeeding rounds Parker fought not only with renewed vigour but with a more manly and determined spirit, a change sufficiently amounted for by the almost helpless state of his antagonist, who was down in every round.

The friends of Brassey now saw that all hope of a favourable change was extinguished. The ropes were cut, and a crowd armed with sticks and bludgeons rushed between the men, and prevented the possibility of the continuation of the fight. The most dreadful confusion prevailed, during which Brassey lay at full length with his head resting in his second’s lap, who sat down on the ground to receive him. He was evidently in a helpless state, but still he refused to give in, declaring himself perfectly ready to renew the contest whenever the ring was cleared. Persuasions and entreaties were all in vain to induce the interlopers to retire. Parker’s seconds claimed the battle; but this would not be conceded; and after a long wrangle between those who wished the fight to be drawn and those who wished it to be concluded, a body of horsemen were admitted within the outer circle, who instantly galloped round the fragments of the ropes and stakes yet left standing, and effectually succeeded in clearing the area. Those within the ring then retired, and with some difficulty the ropes were spliced and the ring assumed something of its original form. Brassey still continued to lie prostrate on the earth, but there being no further impediment to his once more resuming the battle he was again called to the scratch. He came up quite groggy, while Parker, on the contrary, was fresh, and apparently as strong as when he commenced the battle.

It was soon seen that the forebodings of Brassey’s friends would be confirmed, and that his chance of success had indeed vanished. In fact, Parker hit him as he liked, his boldness increasing as his sense of danger diminished. Still, from the 148th to the 156th round, Brassey came valiantly to the scratch, but was down in every round, and was obviously incapable of stemming the current of misfortune. His friends again forced themselves into the ring; but “King Dick,” feeling the folly and foreseeing the danger which a repetition of punishment under such circumstances might incur, refused to second him any longer, and the unfortunate fellow at last consented to give in. He then shook hands with Parker, who although thus crowned with the wreath of victory, was certainly not entitled to praise for either manliness or gallantry. He retired from the field perfectly fresh with few marks of punishment, save those on his left ear and on the left side of his _caput_, which were certainly most wofully damaged. Brassey was completely exhausted, and almost in a state of stupefaction from the repeated visitations, left and right, to his knowledge box. His lip was split, and in other respects his punishment sufficiently testified that he had not left off till nature had deserted him. It is needless to say that his friends and himself were deeply mortified and disappointed by the result. The fighting was rapid, time called quick, and the rounds extremely short, which will account for the number of rounds is so limited a period.

REMARKS.――We candidly confess that from first to last we never witnessed a fight the conclusion of which was less satisfactory. We have more than once expressed our disgust at that species of tumble-down fighting by which men, regardless of the principles of fair stand-up boxing, seek to punish others, while by cowardly subterfuges they escape punishment themselves. It is a species of paltry cunning to which no true British boxer would have recourse, and which in Parker’s case, as well as that of Nick Ward, admits of no apology. It is ridiculous to say that such manœuvres are consistent with good generalship, or excusable when small men are opposed to men of greater bulk; because, if small men are incapable of fighting men of larger size by fair means, it is not incumbent on them to enter the lists at all. But here the disparity of size was by no means such as to justify the adoption of such a mode of defence. From the first it was clear that Parker was not only the better fighter left and right, but was the harder hitter; and if he had had the courage to exercise those physical qualities which he possessed, and fought fairly and manfully at his man, there is little doubt that he would have brought the combat to a similar issue in one-third of the time. That he actually went down without a blow in more instances than one the spectators must have been perfectly satisfied, although on those particular occasions the appeals to the referee were not legally and properly made; and that he frequently went down equivocally is equally certain, but he had always self-possession and cunning enough to take care that he did not have recourse to these tricks except under circumstances where no adverse decision could be formed. He was repeatedly warned by the referee, but he declared solemnly he could not help it. On quitting the ring he vauntingly forewarned Caunt, who was present, that he would ere long have a tussle with him for the Champion’s belt, but we apprehend this is idle bounce, which he will be very unlikely ever to realise. With regard to Brassey, he utterly disappointed the anticipations of his friends. He no longer presented the formidable front by which he was distinguished in his contest with Caunt; he seemed, in fact, to have lost that gift of hitting left and right of which the head of Caunt, after their fight, afforded such signal testimony. His left hand appeared to be utterly ineffective, and when he did hit with it it was rather a shove than a blow, while the hits with his right hand were anything but decisive, although from their repetition they seemed at one time to threaten the ultimate defeat of his shifty antagonist. Of Parker’s cleverness and pusillanimity the reader will find further examples in the account of his defeat by Perry, the Tipton Slasher, in our memoir of that boxer, forming Chapter IV. of this volume.

This was the last appearance of Brassey in the P.R. The poor fellow was evidently on a downhill course, and died at his house, the “Coach and Horses,” Todd Street, Manchester, in 1845.

[28] It should never be forgotten by seconds that the referee is distinctly bound by the 4th of the New Rules of the Ring, to “withhold all opinion till appealed to by the umpires.” And it is to those umpires alone that the first appeal should be made; not by bystanders, who may be influenced by personal interest, but by the seconds alone, a rule which is unfortunately but too frequently forgotten, and which was in this instance attended by unfortunate consequences to Brassey――ED.

III.――TASS PARKER, OF WEST BROMWICH, AND HARRY PRESTON, OF BIRMINGHAM, FOR £100.

As the name of Harry Preston has more than once occurred in connection with the subjects of Memoirs in our history, and was at one period of his career thought good enough for a match for £300 with Young Dutch Sam (see PUGILISTICA, Vol. II., p. 388), we shall here give his last battle, which was also memorable as being Tass Parker’s first Ring victory. The articles, which fixed the 8th of May, 1838, as the day of meeting, and the stakes to be fought for at £200, and further stipulated that Preston should confine himself to 11st. 7lbs., were duly complied with, Preston, on the morning of fighting, balancing 11st. 6lbs., which many considered 8lbs. below his best standard. Harry, it must be borne in mind, was an “old stager,” having credited to him, in the previous ten years, seven victories, two draws (one with Young Dutch Sam, already alluded to, the other with Davis, of Birmingham, whom he afterwards conquered), and but _one_ defeat, and that by the scientific Jem Wharton (Young Molyneaux). It was, therefore, to be expected that 6 to 4 was readily offered on Preston, and that the defeat of Parker, who, notwithstanding his admitted superior skill with the gloves, had been twice beaten by the renowned Hammer Lane, with a prevalent doubt of his gameness, should have been booked as a certainty; the sequel, however, proved that in the Ring, as on the Turf, “public running” is not always to be implicitly relied on.

On the morning of the event we found ourselves in Sawley, a village in Derbyshire, eight miles south-west of Nottingham, where we were introduced to Preston, at a “public” on the banks of the Trent, wherein he had taken up his quarters. He spoke confidently of his prospects of success, and treated his reduction of weight as by no means reducing his capabilities. We, however, did not share his opinion; though lighter bodily, his face struck us as more puffy than is consistent with perfect training, and he did not impress us with the idea of a man hardened by his exercises. Of Parker’s whereabouts we could learn nothing; and a warning being given that “a magistrate was in the village with an escort of police,” Preston was hastily disguised and got out of danger; and not a bit too soon, for scarcely was Preston on the road to Appleby, when a clerical “beak,” with a constable and three or four “specials,” armed with a warrant for “three counties,” as we were informed, made their unwelcome appearance. In justice to these officials, however, we must say that they behaved in what poor Jack Scroggins called “a gentlemanlike sort of a way,” and gave all to understand that they should exercise their undoubted powers with moderation, and that if “the peace” of Derbyshire was unmolested, their function would then and there cease. Away, then, for Leicestershire, towards Ashby-de-la-Zouch――renowned in days of old for its tournaments and “passage of arms”――was the word. Now, as fighting Ashby (fifteen miles from Leicester) was about seventeen from where we then were, and as it was already past twelve o’clock, the “fixture” was indeed a damper, many remembering how they were thrown out when Caunt and Bendigo held their first “joust” at Appleby. The cloud, however, passed away when, about a mile and a half beyond Castle Donington, a hint was given that in a field not three hundred yards from the turnpike-road, yet out of view of it, a secluded spot was at the service of the weary wayfarers. A general halt was made; each man was temporarily housed in an adjacent “Tom and Jerry;” and these establishments being each luckily provided with considerable stabling, every stall and shed was at once occupied by vehicles and quadrupeds, while the bipeds consumed every eatable and drinkable, to the last loaf and the last “tilt of the barrel,” in both establishments. These despatched, word was brought that the Birmingham Commissary had pitched his stakes, and all moved off to a pretty dell, where, on a nice bit of turf, surrounded by gentle slopes thickly wooded, the lists were formed; not a few aspiring countrymen and youths ascending the trees nearest the ring, and forming a “rookery” whence a vocal, but not very musical, “cawing” was heard at intervals of the fight.

At two o’clock precisely, Preston made his appearance, and shied his pimple-coverer into the ring; an example immediately followed by Parker, who stepped briskly into the arena, and with a good-humoured smile went up to Preston and shook hands with apparent cordiality. There was a buoyant springiness in Parker, and a confidence in his appearance, which seemed to say “I mean winning, and nothing else.” Preston’s manner was more subdued――he looked serious, but exhibited nothing like distrust in his own powers. Betting was 6 to 4 on Preston, which, in a few instances, was taken, Parker’s partisans seeming doubtful of their man. The colours having been fastened to the stakes, and umpires and a referee chosen, the men stripped. Parker’s condition appeared excellent――he looked as fine as a star, and weighed exactly 11st. 4lbs. Preston looked delicate――his flesh did not appear firm, nor had it the roseate hue of health. At fourteen minutes after two the men came to the scratch――Peter Taylor and Nick Ward seconding Parker; and Dick Davis and Holland, both of Birmingham, performing the same friendly office for Preston. After the usual formalities,

THE FIGHT

Commenced, Preston having the sun shining brilliantly in his face. “It will be a merry fight,” said Taylor, who had been taking the odds of 3 to 2; “but my man is in a merry mood, and means winning, and nothing else.” Preston’s attitude was good; he appeared ready either for the offensive or defensive, and watched his man closely, who was also on the alert; Preston trying to draw him, and making two or three feints, but Parker was wide awake. Preston made a hit, but Parker jumped back, keeping his hands well up. After two or three feints, Preston hit right and left; Parker countered; several exchanges, slightly in favour of Preston. A smartish rally, each trying to give the upper-cut; a short struggle, and both down, Preston under. “First blood” was claimed for Parker, and admitted; it was from a slight blow on the mouth. This round occupied four minutes, and was in favour of Preston; but the Parkerites were uproarious, Tassey having gained the first event.

Round 2.――After sparring for some time, neither man liking to commence operations, Preston put in a tidy one with his left on the ribs without a return; more sparring; Preston got in his left, and Parker countered well. Both on their mettle, and rapid exchanges of compliments passed, each anxiously trying to give the upper-cut. Parker planted a facer, and Preston returned under the left ear. Loud cheering for both men animated them to redouble their exertions; and after a sharp and merry round, in which there was good fighting on both sides, both down, Preston under. Preston had rather the best of this round. This round lasted 16 minutes.

3.――Long sparring; Preston trying to “gammon” his man to begin, but Parker seemed to be down to Preston’s moves. At length Preston led off with his left, which was well stopped; Parker countered smartly, and fought well before him, boring his man, who gave his head away. Preston tried to give the upper-cut, but failed. “Give and take as much and as quickly as you can” appeared to be the motto of each, and they rattled away merrily without any decided lead to either. This was the best-contested round in the fight, and Parker proved himself a better man than many anticipated. He stood well to his gun, and not a few thought Preston began not to fancy his man quite so much. Indeed, Harry found him stick closer to him than he expected, and a much sharper fighter than he had calculated upon; still, the round was, if anything, favourable to Preston. 25 minutes had elapsed.

4.――The effects of the last round and the heat of the day appeared not to suit Preston. He had a slight mouse on the left eye, when he came to the scratch, and hemmed several times, as if a “little” touched in the wind. Preston manœuvring to draw his man; Parker hit short. After sparring for some time, Parker put his hands down as a “ticer.” After a little more sparring, Parker made his one-two without a return, and followed his man briskly. Preston’s face covered with perspiration, both hit together; exchanges, Parker driving his man to the ropes, where he fell, Parker upon him. (Shouts for Parker, and cries of “He’s got Harry; where’s your 6 to 4?”)

5.――This was a short round; Parker took the lead, and hit his man well and smartly, gave him no time for parrying, but bustled away. Preston relished this mode of attack so little that he turned from his man. (“What do you say now? Why it’s Donington Hall to a cowshed!” exclaimed Peter Taylor. “Oh, my man’s got him beautifully――it’ll soon be over.”) Parker stuck to his man; delivering rapidly as he went in, and Preston went down.

6.――Preston looked as if he meant mischief, but was fearful of going in; after he had made a few feints, Parker went boldly in, hitting away right and left, and, to avoid punishment as well as fatigue, Preston went down in a short rally. (“He’s coming it”――the Tassites uproarious, and the layers of odds rather blue.)

7.――Parker found he had got his man, went to work instanter, and drove him before him, and Preston fell outside of the ropes. (“He’s done for!” was the general exclamation of the Parkerites).

8.――Parker determined not to give a chance away, commenced fighting instanter; Preston giving his head, and making no defence, slipped down. (Cries of disapprobation.)

In the next round Preston was driven out of the ropes; and the three following rounds were all one way. It was clear that Preston’s chance was gone. From the fourth round he appeared to fight like a man who had either made up his mind to be beaten, or was so dreadfully out of condition that he had not the power to make any defence. At the end of the thirteenth round, on being lifted up, he could not, or would not, stand; and his seconds gave in for him. Preston’s friends said he was seriously hurt, in a very tender part of the body, by Parker falling upon him. He certainly looked faint and ill, but Parker’s friends denied the assertion, and the Brums were loud and deep in their expression of disgust and indignation. Time 40 minutes.

REMARKS.――The fight was over at twenty minutes to three, and certainly disappointed every one who saw it; after the third round Preston appeared to be “down on his luck;” still, many thought he was only “gammoning,” but the conclusion of the fourth round convinced the most sceptical that the glory of Harry had departed, for he never stood well up to his man afterwards. He gave his head every round, and fell to avoid punishment in a manner that excited feelings of contempt. Parker from the first showed great confidence; when he found he had “got his man,” he bustled in and gave him no time for breathing, and although two pounds the lighter, proved himself by far the stronger man; he used both hands well and quickly. Among the members of the Ring on the ground were Hammer Lane and his brother Surrender, Lazarus, Johnny Broome, and Bill Atkinson; Caunt, Merryman, and several others were thrown out. Preston exhibited no severe marks of punishment, excepting a mouse under the left eye, and a swelling of the left ear, although Parker appeared to have given him several “hot ’uns.” Parker appeared as fresh as when he began. If, as Preston said, “He never was better,” it is clear he never used his physical advantages to less effect. That he is a game man he has on more occasions than one signally proved, and his defeat can only be attributed to a falling off in power and lasting quality; while the proverb that “youth will be served” receives another illustration in Parker’s rapid success when he found his adversary’s strength had left him. Tom Spring being stakeholder the money was handed to the victorious Tass at the “Castle,” Holborn, on the ensuing Thursday week, who then and there challenged Britton of Liverpool. With that boxer Tass fought, on the 8th May, 1839, a drawn battle. Britton was subsequently arrested, and bound over for twelve months. The men met again on the 9th of June, 1840, when Parker was victorious after 77 rounds fought in 1 hour and 50 minutes, and was thereafter matched with Brassey of Bradford, with the result we have already narrated in a former page.

Harry Preston appeared no more in the 24-foot after this defeat. He died at Birmingham on the 25th of February, 1850, in his 41st year.

IV.――AARON JONES AND BOB WADE (THE DOVER CHAMPION).

“’Tis not in mortals to command success,” says Addison in his sententious “Cato,” though they may “do more――that is, deserve it.” Aaron Jones, born in 1831――who, in his first essay in the Ring, at the age of 18, had the ill luck to encounter the formidable Harry Orme (in 1849), when he fought him for 2 hours and 45 minutes, at Frimley, as we have already narrated――was a notable instance of this. Jones’s after-defeats by Orme, Paddock, and Tom Sayers being herein set down, we now propose to resuscitate and “photo” the only gleam of sunshine in Aaron’s clouded career. This was his battle with Bob Wade, called the Dover Champion, on the 24th September, 1850.

From the time of Jones’s first defeat he had been anxious for a second customer; but his friends dissuaded him, and gave him the good advice to wait until another year or two had hardened gristle into bone, and set the stamp of endurance on his frame. The youngster, however, was impatient and importunate, and a cavalry officer, to whom Jones had been known in his boyhood, and who was a constant visitor at Jem Burn’s, on Jones calling his attention to a challenge from Bob Wade, offering himself as a candidate for the favours of any 12 stone man, for the small stake of £25 a side, consented to find the quarter of a hundred needful for the match. To improve the amount for the men, it was arranged that they should join in hiring a train on the South Eastern line, in conjunction with the clever little Joe Hoiles (“The Spider”), who was articled to do battle with Jemmy Madden, on the 24th of September. Accordingly, the “excursionists” repaired, on the morning of that day, to the London Bridge terminus of the South Eastern; for as yet the London, Chatham, and Dover was not. The day was delightful, and the destination, Edenbridge, Kent, was reached by noon. Here the travellers alighted at the foot of a rude set of steps cut in the turf embankment. These surmounted, a walk of a few hundred yards down a shady lane, out of sight of travellers by the rail, brought Tom Oliver’s roped square in view, and the smaller couple of heroes were soon at work. After a lively exhibition of game and resolution on one side, and artistic skill, with precise and cutting execution, on the other, “The Spider” succeeded in knocking his sturdy little opponent out of time.

The bantams having settled their difference of opinion, the bigger brace of “unfeathered bipeds” appeared in the pit――we beg pardon, the ring. Jones looked youthful, fair, cheerful, and symmetrical; his height 5 feet 11 inches, his weight 11st. 7lbs. Wade, on the other hand, was a brown and hardy veteran, his look as solid as his carcase, and his weight the same as Jones. His more compact frame, however, gave him quite two inches less stature than the Young’un. Jones had two excellent seconds in Alec Keene and Bob Fuller, while Wade had no reason to complain, having the services of the gallant Jack Grant and the accomplished Bill Hayes. It was currently reported that Jones had made rapid improvement since his encounter with Harry Orme, in the previous December, and hence he had the call in the betting at 5 to 4. We prefer giving a description to a mere numbered detail of the rounds.

In leading off, after a few seconds spent in manœuvring, Jones got in his left so cleverly and effectively on Wade’s jaw-bone that he not only staggered the veteran, but sent him against the centre stake with such force that his head was cut severely, and bled profusely throughout the after rounds of the fight. Wade, nevertheless, returned to the charge, and in the exchanges caught Jones a sounding right-hander in the ribs, after which both were down in a scrambling rally. In the second round Jones displayed superior science, nobbing Wade neatly, who, however, when he got to half-arm hitting, pegged away with resolution and effect, until again both were on the grass, with hardly any “best” in the matter, though Jones’s friends were uproarious in their encouragement of their man.

From the third to the tenth round Wade worked away well, Jones not seeming able to meet him with sufficient precision and certainty as he came in. When the men got together, ding-dong hitting and give and take was the order of the day; thus they roughed away until one or the other was down in the hitting, Wade the most frequently, Jones’s superior and straighter style gradually improving his position. In the twelfth round Wade, who had certainly by far the larger share of the punishment, caught Aaron a stinging hit on the nose, and so severe was its effect that for the moment it brought the Young’un forward in a state of mystification, and, hitting out at random, he came upon his knees. The Dover lads were vociferous in their acclamations, but Jones came up steady, and in the next round, nailing Wade as he came rashly in, balanced the account by battering his already damaged figure-head. In the succeeding three or four rounds Jones stopped Wade’s rush effectually. Both men rallied with great determination, and many thought that the lasting stamina of Wade must wear out the active spurts of Jones. In a rally in the 25th round, the Dover veteran hit Jones down with a swinging body-blow, and the hopes of his partisans were again buoyant. Wade, however, was too much abroad from severe hitting to take full advantage of his chance, and again and again his adversary administered punishment, as he followed him up to force the fighting. In the 39th round, Jones having propped Wade three or four times in succession without a return, the Old’un fell. Fifty-six minutes had elapsed, and amidst cries of “Take him away!” Wade came up for the 40th round, and Jones, in a half-arm rally, milled him down. The 41st and 42nd rounds presented little variation, Wade obstinately refusing to give in, though so advised by his friends; and at length, just as the hour had expired, and Wade had come up for the 43rd bout, Jones nailed him two straight ones, the first on the side of the head, the second on the mouth, and down went poor Bob, to all intents and purposes a beaten man. Jones was highly elated at his conquest, which was certainly creditable to the youngster, as his experienced antagonist was one of that old-fashioned “give and take” school, the members of which are not to be beaten by any boxer who cannot stand heavy retaliation in return for the favours he may bestow upon his opponent, even by superior skill or activity. The money, £50, was given up to Jones on the following Thursday, at Mr. Prior’s, South Audley Street, when the brave Old Bob received a liberal supply of “golden ointment” to heal his disappointment and his bodily hurts.

Jones, for a long period, up to the present year, 1881, has been living in America, where he has earned respect for his civility, steadiness, good behavour, and his skill as a teacher of the art of boxing. A paragraph in a recent newspaper informs us of his return to the Old Country at the age of fifty-one.

PERIOD VIII.――1846-1863.

FROM THE CHAMPIONSHIP OF TOM SAYERS TO THE FIGHT BETWEEN HEENAN AND KING.