CHAPTER VII.

NED TURNER—1814–1824.

Ned Turner, who was born in Crucifix Lane, in the borough of Southwark, November 8th, 1791, was of Welsh extraction, his parents being natives of the Principality, and his kith and kin very respectable people at New Town, Montgomeryshire. Hence the “ancient Britons” of the metropolis proudly claimed Turner as their countryman, and, as we shall see, he was heartily backed and supported by the brave sons of the Cymry in his pugilistic ventures. Turner’s calling was that of a skin-dresser, and he was duly apprenticed to that ancient craft and mystery, at a yard in Bermondsey, where a very large number of men were employed. Here there was a sparring club, or school for glove practice, in which young Turner greatly distinguished himself, by the quickness, natural grace, and intuitive steadiness of his style of sparring.

“Envy doth merit as its shade pursue,

And by her presence proves the substance true,”

and this was exemplified in the circumstances of Turner’s first battle. The foreman of the yard, one John Balch, a Bristol man, not only fancied himself, by birth-place and judgment, an oracle in matters pugilistic, but the champion of the yard. It appears he often spoke disparagingly of the Welsh, as “border” men are apt to do: indeed he forgot himself so far as to sneer at young Turner’s sparring pretensions, and intimated his ability to “snuff” the young Welshman out. Turner modestly doubted the boaster’s ability, and a meeting “for love” ended in nearly an hour’s hard fight on the side of John Balch, when Turner, though the younger (he was only in his twentieth year), lighter, and shorter man, had beaten Balch so completely blind that he was led helpless from the ring. Turner, it may well be supposed, was soon famous in the dominions of “Simon the Tanner,” yet we may here note, on the authority of a contemporary, “that never, from his earliest days to the present period of his pugilistic celebrity, did a challenge first proceed from Ned Turner to any man.”[[157]] By him the ancient sage’s precept, albeit unknown in its didactic form, was felt and adopted as a rule of life:—

NED TURNER
From a Portrait by Wyvill.

“Let us

Act with cool prudence and with manly temper,

As well as manly firmness.

’Tis godlike magnanimity to keep,

When most provok’d, our reason calm and clear,

And execute her will, from a strong sense

Of what is right, without the vulgar aid

Of heat and passion, which, though honest, bear us

Often too far.”

For the minor battles of Turner, which form the prefatory matter to his ring doings, we are entirely indebted to Pierce Egan, as the journals of the period contain no trace of these by-affairs of a boxer as yet without public fame.

“A publican, of the name of Keating, landlord of the Black Horse, in the vicinity of St. Giles’s, brought forward a big Irishman, whom he had patronised, to fight Turner in the cockpit at the Huntsman and Hounds, in Lock’s Fields, for five guineas a side (1813). For the first three rounds Paddy bored in upon Ned with the utmost fury, and the latter in going down fell with his back upon the short stakes which formed the pit. The contusion was so severe and painful that Turner did not recover from its effects for the course of several rounds. At length Ned got into work, and before twenty-five minutes had elapsed, Paddy was so bothered, beaten, and blind, that he could not tell whether he was living at that moment either in England or Ireland.

“Turner, soon after the above circumstance (1814), in company with three of his fellow-workmen, left London to fulfil an engagement he had made at a skin-yard in Glasgow. A man of the name of M’Neil, a spirit dealer, and a pupil of Carter’s, had threatened, previous to the arrival of Turner, to mill all the Englishmen in Glasgow. In fact, M’Neil was the champion of that place, and was in height five feet eleven inches, and weighing thirteen stone. Turner was soon singled out after his arrival in Glasgow by M’Neil for a trial of skill. A match was accordingly made for five guineas a side, and the contest was decided in a room. In the course of half an hour M’Neil was completely defeated. Some time afterwards he wished to have another trial allowed, and £5 a side was deposited to make it for a larger sum; but M’Neil preferred forfeiting the deposit to entering the ring again with Turner.

“Ned, upon quitting Glasgow, went to Newcastle (1816). At this place Turner was challenged by one Blacket, a slater, well known for the pugilistic feats he had performed in this part of the country. A finer proportioned young man was not to be seen than Blacket. He was symmetry itself, of prodigious strength, and not deficient in bottom. He was in height six feet and one inch, weighing rather more than fourteen stone. The battle was fought on the race-course, in the presence of thousands of spectators. In the course of forty-five minutes Blacket received so much severe punishment, without being able to return any milling upon Turner, that he swore in the utmost rage, ‘he would not fight any more, as Turner was not a fair fighter, and that he did nothing but make hits, and then jump away!’ Turner was much applauded for the skill he displayed in conquering a man so much above his weight, and a liberal subscription entered into by the amateurs as a reward for his bravery.

“Soon after Turner had returned to the metropolis, in a turn up with Youler (Davenport’s Jew), a ruffianing sort of fighter, in St. George’s Fields, in the course of thirty-five minutes he so completely satisfied this boring Israelite, that he retired from the conflict with terrible body punishment.

“At the Cottage of Content, in Lock’s Fields, Turner was one evening set upon by five watermen, who, it seems, had made up their minds to give our hero a milling. The manly conduct of the sculler gentry, however, was soon placed to its proper account. Turner disposed of the first four with as much nonchalance as if they had been sacks, and the fifth, who, it appears, had some pretensions to boxing, and who endeavoured to make something like a regular stand against Ned, paid dearly for his temerity, by leaving off under numerous marks of severe punishment.

“These conquests, although they display every trait of courage and science, yet, in the opinion of the amateurs, amount to little until a boxer makes his debût in the London ring. In fact, a pugilist is not recognized till he has made this appearance, when, if successful, he becomes a leading star of the fancy—friends flow fast in upon him, and backers are never wanting to support his pretensions. The fame of Turner had now made progress in the milling circles, especially in the neighbourhood of Bermondsey, where the capabilities of Turner were best known and appreciated. Curtis, a boxer also well known in the same quarter, it seems, felt envy at the growing reputation of Ned, and repeatedly challenged the latter before he agreed to meet him in combat. Curtis was of importance to the admirers of pugilism from the laurels he had acquired in the ring. Tom Roe, West Country Dick, and Lazarus, the Jew, had all been defeated by him. As a game boxer his character was firmly established; in short, of the ‘light weights,’ a better bit of stuff was not thought to exist upon the list. A match was at length made between Turner and Curtis for 100 guineas; but the betting was current seven to four, and, in many instances, two to one upon the latter. Indeed, so sanguine were the partizans of Curtis, that they roundly asserted Turner could not stand half an hour before him. In a twenty feet ring, at Moulsey Hurst, on Tuesday, October 22, 1816, the above heroes met. The morning proving wet, the spectators were not so numerous as usual. At half past one o’clock Curtis entered the ring, attended by Oliver, who came on purpose from Carlisle to second his friend, assisted by Clark. Curtis threw up his hat. Turner soon followed, attended by Tom Owen and Jacobs.”

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The combatants, upon setting-to, exhibited great caution, and each appeared anxious to obtain the first advantage. Turner at length got an opening, and with much dexterity planted a severe hit in Curtis’s face, without receiving a return. The former made another successful hit, when they fought their way up to the ropes, and Curtis was sent down. The three and two to one betters seemed rather astonished at the novice (as Turner had been termed) commencing in such a milling style. It augured much mischief, and the safety of the thing was not now looked upon as quite so certain.

2.—The lead was again on the side of Turner. He nobbed Curtis with evident superiority, when the latter slipped and fell down. (The odds began to shake, even at this early period of the battle.)

3.—Some good blows were exchanged, but materially to the advantage of Turner. The claret was seen trickling down the face of Curtis, who was ultimately thrown.

4.—Turner commenced offensive operations with a severe blow from the right. He appeared a troublesome customer for Curtis to get at, and some long sparring occurred. A good round, but Curtis was thrown.

5.—Curtis could not make any impression upon his adversary, when he retreated to the ropes, where he received severe fibbing punishment; but he succeeded in throwing Turner.

6.—Turner put in so heavy a facer that the claret flowed in torrents, and with the rapidity of lightning he put in another successful blow, which sent Curtis out of the ring. (Even betting.)

7.—By this time Turner had done sufficient work to convince the spectators that he was the leading boxer. He was compelled to follow his opponent to get a hit, which he never failed to do when the ropes stopped Curtis from retreating farther. In struggling to obtain the throw the latter got Turner down.

8.—It seemed to be the aim of Curtis to plant body blows, but he frequently hit short. Curtis was thrown.

9.—Curtis, in point of science, did not appear anything equal to his opponent, except in throwing; he now sent Turner under the ropes.

10.—On the part of Turner much coolness and judgment prevailed. He threw Curtis in great style, and did not go down himself.

11.—The left hand of Turner, upon setting-to, reached over the guard of Curtis with such severity that the latter was floored.

12.—This was a short round. Turner went round from a slip, and fell to the ground.

13.—Curtis put in a body blow, but in so doing he received a severe facer. A few hits were exchanged, and both down.

14.—The decided superiority of Turner in this round was evident. He hit Curtis in all directions, till he went away staggering like a man intoxicated, and fell.

15.—Curtis could not protect his nob from the left hand of his opponent. In closing, both down.

16.—Curtis, with much resolution, fought his way into a sort of scuffle, when they both got upon the ropes. In this situation Turner had the superiority of hitting, till they both went down. (Turner was now decidedly the favourite, and six to four was offered upon him.)

17.—Curtis missed his aim and turned round. In closing, both down.

18.—The left hand of Turner was continually in Curtis’s face; and the latter, in going down, unfortunately fell forward upon the ropes, hanging by his chin.

19.—The nob of Curtis was again the object of punishment. In closing, both fell on the ground.

20.—The milling Turner administered to his opponent in this round was truly terrific. Curtis did nothing but receive; and in closing, he was severely fibbed till he went down.

21.—Curtis was so closely pursued, that he turned round and was hit out of the ring.

22.—This was a good round. Curtis changed his mode of attack. In making play he slipped down, but instantly got upon his legs, and put in two sharp blows. Both down.

23.—Curtis hit short; but, in closing, he seized hold of the hands of Turner. The latter was ultimately thrown.

24.—The nob of Curtis appeared much damaged. The latter, in retreating from his antagonist, fell, and knocked Oliver also down, who was resting upon one knee.

25.—Some blows were exchanged, when Turner put in a right-handed hit that floored Curtis.

26.—A close soon took place, but the combatants disengaged themselves, when some severe fighting passed between them, till both went down.

27.—Turner got Curtis on the ropes and fibbed severely till he went down.

28.—Curtis, it was evident, could not stop the mischief which the left hand of Turner was continually doing him, and he went down from a sharp hit.

29.—In this round Curtis threw his opponent, but he received much punishment before he accomplished it.

30.—There was nothing attractive about Curtis in this fight, except his taking qualities, which he exhibited in a very eminent degree. He returned well, but was at length hit down.

31.—Curtis had the best of this round. He gave Turner so severe a facer that sent him down.

32.—Sparring for advantage. Curtis hit short. In closing, both down, but the latter undermost. The length of Turner prevented Curtis from going in with any success.

33.—Turner put in three successive hits, without any return, and Curtis went down. The latter could not make a hit without boring in, and then he paid for his temerity.

34.—Curtis bled copiously on appearing at the scratch. Some exchanges took place, and both down.

35.—This was an excellent round, and both the combatants upon the alert. The advantage was most completely on the side of Turner, who used both hands so successfully that Curtis was milled down.

36.—Merely struggling to obtain the throw, and both down.

37.—Curtis hit short at the body, when they fought their way to the ropes, and the latter held Turner’s hands. They broke away, exchanged a few blows, and both went down. Curtis threw away a great number of hits.

38.—Of no consequence. Both down.

39.—Turner put in two severe facers, without any return. Some exchanges occurred till both went down. During this round Owen gave directions to Turner respecting his mode of fighting, and told him to “hit out.”

40.—Turner followed Curtis all over the ring, nobbed him with the most perfect ease, put in four successive blows with his left hand, and finished the round by flooring his antagonist.

41.—This was a truly singular round. Curtis ran in furiously and seized so fast hold of the wrists of Turner that he could not disengage himself from this awkward situation. He at length slung Curtis completely round, when the latter lost his hold.

42.—In closing, Turner fibbed his opponent down. Curtis could not resist the overwhelming length of his adversary; and, although things seemed so much against him, still he did not want for resolution.

43.—Curtis, from the repeated punishment he had received, seemed quite abroad, and totally at a loss how to make a hit. He kept continually retreating from his adversary, till he was sent down.

44.—Curtis again seized hold of his opponent’s hands; when Turner released himself he floored his antagonist. Every person seemed surprised at the conduct of Curtis—it was desperation personified.

45.—It was all up with Curtis as to fighting. He had not the slightest chance of winning. In struggling, both down.

46.—Curtis came to the scratch boldly, and put in a casual hit, but he was soon sent down.

47.—Turner hit Curtis with such severity upon his face that he staggered and fell. Turner stepped over him, and looked at his prostrate antagonist.

48.—The gameness of Curtis prompted him to go on, and he endeavoured to tire out his adversary. It was a sharp struggle to obtain the throw.

49.—A short round, and both down.

50.—It was mere protraction on the part of Curtis, and his friends requested him to resign the contest; but he would not listen to anything like defeat. Turner made some successful hits. In struggling, both down.

51.—On setting to Curtis slipped down.

52.—The left hand of Turner by a slight hit sent Curtis off his legs.

53.—The head of Curtis was bleeding copiously. His sight was growing defective, and the blows he attempted to make were out of distance. However, in closing, Curtis got Turner down.

54 to 57.—In these four rounds Curtis scarcely set-to before he was either sent or went down. (Any odds on Turner.)

58.—Curtis seemed to think it was not all over with him and desperately bored in to punish his adversary; but this only occasioned extra milling. In closing, both down.

59.—Curtis on the same tack, but he was soon stopped and thrown.

60.—Curtis was all desperation, but sent down almost upon setting to.

61.—The left hand of Turner was again punishing his opponent’s face; but, in closing, Turner dropped him with such ease and forbearance, as to obtain applause from all parts of the ring.

62.—It was evident from the strange manner in which Curtis attacked his adversary that he was nearly in a state of darkness. In running at Turner he passed by him, turned round confusedly, and was floored. Many of Curtis’s friends were sanguine enough to think that he might be enabled to tire out his adversary by his determined resolution.

63.—It was astonishing to view what a bottom man could effect. Notwithstanding the dreadful state Curtis was reduced to, and distressed beyond imagination, he struggled with Turner, and ultimately threw him; but still no change appeared.

64.—This desperate mode of going in was acted upon too late. The strength of Curtis was fast leaving him, and he could now scarcely make a push at his opponent with any degree of certainty; while Turner was so much at his ease, that he administered scarcely any additional punishment, and behaved to his brave adversary with much consideration and humanity.

65.—Curtis, with great desperation, again tried to hold Turner’s hands; but he was hit down.

66.—In this round a trifling demur was nearly taking place. In closing, a struggle occurred, when Turner, to disengage himself, caught Curtis by the thighs and threw him. A cry of “foul!” “fair!” was loudly vociferated; but the umpire did not pay any attention to it. Curtis was literally in a state of stupor.

67.—Curtis on setting to was instantly sent down.

68 and last.—It was piteous to view this little game cock of the true English breed endeavour to fight another round. He immediately went down. On being placed upon his second’s knee his head dropped on one side. He was insensible when the “time” was called; while, on the contrary, his brave opponent, excepting two heavy hits on the ear, was not materially injured. The fight continued one hour and twenty-five minutes, and finished five minutes before three o’clock.

Remarks.—In this conflict Turner proved himself a steady scientific boxer: there was nothing hurried in his manner, and he used his left hand with celerity and decision. Instead of appearing a novice, he showed himself a superior up-hill boxer to Curtis. He took the lead and kept it; supported not only by length and strength, but was by far the best fighter. His position was so formidable, and his mode of setting to so different from pugilists in general, that Curtis could not get at him with anything like safety to make a hit. The knowing ones were completely outwitted upon this event, which ought to operate as a useful lesson, by inducing them to calculate the capabilities of the combatants, instead of being led astray by the mere greatness of names. Three to one is dangerous betting at all times.

Notwithstanding the greatest exertion and humane care were taken in speedily removing Curtis from the ring, after the battle had terminated—in fact, but a few minutes had elapsed before he was put to bed at the Red Lion Inn, Hampton, and medical assistance procured—yet this brave, but unfortunate boxer, in the course of a few hours breathed his last. The subject of his death having come under the cognizance of the laws of the country, an inquisition was taken on the body at the above inn, on Friday, October 25, 1816, before Thomas Stirling, Esq., Coroner for Middlesex.

John Griffinhoof, surgeon, of Hampton, deposed to being sent for on Tuesday evening to attend upon the deceased, who, when he arrived, was in a state of insensibility. There were no blows upon the body which, in his opinion, could have caused a man’s death. There was a general discoloration from the waist upwards. He bled him in the arm, and applied leeches to his temples, and also endeavoured to administer to him a draught. He was of opinion that the blows which he received on the head were the cause of his death. The deceased lived until twelve o’clock at night.

Mr. Morris Jones, surgeon, of Hampton, gave similar evidence. He believed that a blood-vessel had broken in his head, and the only hopes he had of his recovery was by his bleeding profusely.

Richard Coombe, fishmonger, of Hampton, was present at the fight between the deceased and Turner. It was a pitched battle. He never heard of there being any quarrel between Curtis and Turner; saw Curtis enter the ring at half past one o’clock; Turner entered directly after. They stripped, shook hands, and then commenced fighting. When they had fought more than an hour, witness went up to Curtis and advised him to give in; but he observed that he could see, and should beat his opponent yet. He said his seconds advised Curtis not to fight any longer, and forced him to the ropes, but he broke from them and faced Turner again. The third round after he forced himself from his seconds, Turner gave him a heavy blow, which threw him, and fell upon him. He was raised up by his seconds, and the battle ended. Turner was declared the conqueror. He was informed that Curtis had been, previous to the fight about a month, unwell with a certain disease, and had been under the care of two physicians of St. Thomas’s Hospital. His friends, thinking him not in a sound state, advised him not to fight; but Curtis was determined. He never saw a fairer fight. Turner could have struck him several times between the fiftieth and sixty-eighth (last) rounds, when he would not, on account of his having such an advantage over his opponent. At one time he stood over Curtis as he leaned against the ropes, and might have given him a violent blow, having him wholly in his power; instead of doing so he lifted up his hands and walked away.

Another witness, also sworn, observed, that for about twelve rounds before the termination of the contest, he told Curtis he had no chance to win, and that it was a pity he should suffer himself to be beaten to pieces. The reply of the deceased was, that he could not lose the battle, and he maintained this assertion against every remonstrance, until he fell in the last round, and never recovered from a state of stupor. Oliver, his second, advised him also, in vain, to resign long before the battle was decided, and the umpire refused to hold the watch any longer; but the deceased entertained a notion that he could win until the moment he fell. The evidence of this witness went to explain on the subject of the fall. He stated that, in the struggle for superiority, both men were down, and that Turner had an opportunity of doing mischief to his adversary, by falling upon him, but he broke from him and behaved in a manly manner, as he had done in other instances during the fight. After this fall, Curtis never recovered from the stupor, and witness believed him to be in a dying state before he reached the inn at Hampton.

It was further sworn that Turner had forborne to take advantage of his adversary when he had him upon the ropes, and that he showed much fair play during the combat.

The Coroner summed up:—Gentlemen of the jury, I have read over the whole of the evidence which has been adduced, and it is now my duty to point out to you what is the chief point for you to consider with regard to your verdict. It is proved there was no previous quarrel between Turner and the unfortunate deceased before their contest at Moulsey Hurst; but, notwithstanding, it is my duty to tell you that the meeting was unlawful, for Turner had no right to beat Curtis until he died because he had his consent, although they did not agree to fight till one had killed the other: yet such was the fact in evidence, that the extremities of Curtis were dead before he left the ring. There are certainly several points in favour of Turner. It appears that he could several times, when he did not, have not only disabled the deceased, but that he had him at one time so much in his power that he could have put an end to the contest, but that he avoided the opportunity of an advantage: still the deceased died in consequence of the wounds he received from Turner. I have stated what appears in favour of Turner; and, on the other side, that he acted unlawfully, and you cannot discharge your duty, in my opinion, unless you find him guilty in some degree—to what degree it is for you to determine. The jury were in consultation for twenty minutes, when they returned a verdict of manslaughter.

Upon the issuing of the warrant, Turner at once surrendered himself.

On Friday, November 1, 1816, at the Old Bailey Sessions, Edward Turner was indicted for the wilful murder of John Curtis, by inflicting with both his hands divers blows, on the 22nd of October, whereof he died.

The witnesses gave the same evidence as that before the coroner. Turner being called upon for his defence, read from a written paper as follows:—

“My Lords and Gentlemen of the Jury

“Deeply impressed with the great peril to which I am exposed by the present charge made against me, and with the difficulty I necessarily experience in substantiating my innocence, owing to the danger to which most competent witnesses of the transaction would be exposed, were they to be examined, I must solicit your serious attention to such facts as I shall be enabled to lay before you, by which I trust not only my natural disposition will appear, but that on the occasion of the sad catastrophe imputed to me I was goaded into a consent to fight the deceased, who was himself a prize-fighter, and with the greatest reluctance I entered the ring, after being assaulted; and when I did so, as soon as I ascertained my superiority over my antagonist, I forbore on very many occasions, to avail myself of the advantages that presented themselves to me, and with the greatest reluctance continued the contest until the circumstance occurred which led to the unfortunate event which I must ever deplore, and which has placed me in my present awful situation. I beg to state that my pursuits in life are honest, my aversion to prize-fighting great, never having before fought a pitched battle; nor should I on this occasion, but for the great aggravation which will be proved I received. I assure your Lordships and gentlemen of the Jury, that I am totally innocent of any intention to seriously injure the deceased, and that there never existed in my mind the smallest particle of malice towards him. I trust, therefore, that my character for humanity and forbearance will have its due weight on this occasion.”

During the time the clerk of the arraigns was reading the defence, the feelings of Turner were so oppressed that he was observed to shed tears.

His counsel, Mr. Andrews (who had scarcely time to look over his brief, in consequence of Mr. Adolphus not being in court, although retained some days previous to the trial for Turner) then proceeded to call a multitude of witnesses, all of whom gave him an excellent character for humanity and mildness of disposition. Some of them stated that he had never fought a prize battle before, and that he was urged to the contest by the frequent importunities of the deceased, who was not easy until he obtained his promise to fight him.

Baron Graham, in charging the jury, said this was not a case accompanied by any circumstances that indicated previous malice on the part of the prisoner. It appeared from the evidence that the prisoner was not one of those men who devoted themselves to the dangerous profession of prize-fighting. He was, it seemed, considered to be a young man of boxing skill and prowess, a victory over whom would increase the fame of his opponent, and therefore he was urged, nay, goaded, to fight the battle which ended so lamentably. There was certainly premeditation enough on his part to make the crime murder, provided the parties had fought with dangerous weapons, which were likely to produce death. The law was quite certain and decided on this point. For if people met (a smaller period even than a day having expired between their quarrel and their meeting) to fight with deadly weapons, and death ensued, then that was murder, because what the law called malice was apparent—the act was done in cold blood. The present appeared to have been a display of manhood and courage; and whilst they disapproved of such a rencontre between two young men, they could not feel that horror (this being a trial of natural courage and manhood) which, under other circumstances, they might entertain. Under the circumstances stated, the prisoner and the deceased met to fight on the 22nd of October; but they met to fight with those natural arms which, certainly, when strong men were opposed to each other, might produce fatal effects, yet were not in general likely to occasion dreadful consequences, and the contemplation of which could not excite those feelings which deadly and dangerous weapons were calculated to produce. It seemed evident that nothing like malice existed in the mind of the prisoner. It was, as he had before observed, a trial of prowess: no malice appeared, at least on the part of the prisoner. He did not wish to cast any reflection on the memory of a dead man; but, looking strictly to the circumstances, perhaps the imputation of an angry feeling might rest on the deceased. It was in evidence that, during the contest of nearly an hour and a half, the prisoner had cautiously and humanely avoided using, to the extent he might have done, the decided advantage and superiority which he had over the deceased. There was nothing in his conduct like deliberate cruelty, or a desire to injure his adversary, farther than the result occasioned by his efforts to show himself the better man. Water, it appeared, had frequently been thrown upon the deceased in the course of the fight, he having previously taken large quantities of a very powerful medicine (mercury). But a medical gentleman had stated that such ablutions could not have materially affected him at that time; and perhaps, considering the exertions he was making, they might have refreshed him. The prisoner evidently showed that humanity which did him credit and honour. It appeared that he greatly regretted being obliged to continue the fight, in consequence of the determination of the deceased. The principal part of the charge, therefore, that of murder, was quite out of the question; but there could be no doubt of the killing and slaying, which the law considered a very high offence. The consequence had indeed been fatal to that unhappy young man; but it would be extremely unjust to say Turner was responsible for those consequences, as being the cause of them. It was a fact, unquestionably true, that Turner had no hostility whatever to the deceased, for, on the contrary, he had shown himself actuated by the purest motives of humanity during the whole contest; and, likewise, the numerous previous insults the deceased had offered to Turner, were long and painfully endured without any retaliation. This was honourable to his patience. The taking away the life of the young man by the prisoner was clearly proved; for the surgeon had stated that death had ensued, as he had expected, in consequence of the injuries he had received.

The jury, after a short consideration, returned a verdict of Manslaughter against the prisoner, but earnestly recommended him to the merciful consideration of the court, on account of his humanity and forbearance.

Mr. Baron Graham observed that the court participated in the feelings of the jury.

At the end of the Sessions Turner was sentenced to two months’ imprisonment in Newgate.

During the confinement of Turner he conducted himself with so much propriety and decorum as to merit the attention of the head keeper, who granted him every indulgence consistent with the rules of the place. He was also visited by many of the highest patrons of pugilism.

Shortly after his liberation, Turner, by the advice of his friends, took a benefit at the Minerva Rooms, Leadenhall Street, as a means of contributing towards the heavy expenses he had sustained from his trial and imprisonment. The amateurs rallied round him upon this occasion in gratifying numbers.

The sporting circles of this period were extremely anxious to bring about a match between the all-conquering Scroggins and Turner; but the friends of Turner insisting that Scroggins should not exceed ten stone seven pounds on coming into the ring, the match was for a long time off, until the following accidental circumstance produced a battle, after the previous regular propositions of bringing them together had failed.

At a sporting dinner which took place at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, on Wednesday, February 26, 1817, Mr. Emery, of Covent Garden Theatre, in the chair, Turner and Scroggins were among the visitors. In consequence of the deputy chairman being absent, Scroggins was requested to fill up the vacancy. This little hero had just returned from the Fives Court, after setting to with Tom Belcher, in which display with the gloves he had been much applauded; being somewhat warmed, and not standing upon the punctilio of waiting for the toasts, he rallied his bottle in such quick succession that he was completely floored. Shortly afterwards the effects of exertion and the glass combined operated so somniferously on the upper works of Scroggy, that he laid down his head and went to sleep. The company were rather amused than offended with this inactive state of their deputy, and he was permitted to enjoy the benefit of his slumbers. On waking, he quitted the chair and introduced himself to the company below stairs in the coffee-room. Turner soon afterwards took his leave of the dinner party, and on his way home through the house he took a peep, en passant, at the room below stairs. It is fair to observe that Scroggins was in a state of inebriation. The company remonstrated upon the impropriety of Scroggins’ behaviour, who was quarrelling with and threatening to mill ould Joe Norton. Turner civilly remarked that Norton was an old man, his time was gone by, and as to his fighting it was quite out of the question. Scroggins, with much asperity, abused Turner for his observation, called him everything but a good one, and sneeringly told Ned that he had never defeated any body; indeed, only “licked a man that was half dead with disease before he entered the ring.” This produced a sharp retort from Turner, when Scroggins gave the former a slap in the face. A turn-up was the immediate consequence, but scarcely a blow passed before they were both down, and Turner undermost. Sutton instantly got between them; the company also interfered, and peace was restored. The account of this fracas flew up stairs like lightning, and the amateurs immediately discussed the subject. Scroggins, with derision, offered to fight Turner £100 to £50; but the latter felt all this was empty boasting. It was the general opinion of those present that Turner had been unhandsomely treated by Scroggins; and, in consequence, Mr. Soares, on the part of Turner, immediately made a deposit of five guineas towards making a match in a month from that time, although Mr. S. had, in every previous instance, supported Scroggins. On Wednesday, the 12th of March, the partisans of both heroes met at Belcher’s, and the stakes were made good. But Scroggins was the “idol” of the sporting world, and it was a censure upon any one’s judgment to name Turner as having anything like a chance; indeed, infatuation was carried to such a pitch of extravagance, respecting the overwhelming capabilities of Scroggins, that the Jew Phenomenon never stood upon higher ground in the best of his days.

It is impossible to describe the sensation this fight occasioned in the sporting circles; the fame of Scroggins, from his having conquered Boots, Dolly Smith, Nosworthy, Eales, Whittaker, and Church, in succession, had made such a strong impression on the minds of the fancy in general, that he was thought almost invulnerable. Even Scroggins himself felt impressed with the same idea, and fought £100 against Turner’s £50. It is true the match was first made when Scroggins was not exactly compos mentis; but, in his soberest moments, he boldly asserted he would win it with ease. The capabilities of Turner he positively ridiculed, treated him as a mere upstart pugilistic pretender, and flattered himself that the prowess of Turner would vanish before his punishing arm, like snow before the sun. For three nights previous to the battle taking place, the sporting houses were crowded to excess, and so very high did this modern Dutch Sam stand in the estimation of the knowing ones, that nothing less than three to one would be accepted, and that only from an idea that a chance hit or accident might operate against his usual success. On Wednesday, March 26, 1817, as soon as it was light, groups of pedestrians were seen on the Uxbridge Road; and by eight o’clock carriages of all descriptions were rattling along, from the splendid barouche and four down to the donkey and hampers. By eleven twenty thousand persons had collected on the ground, a field near Hayes, between the bridge and the turnpike, not far from the present line of the Great Western Railroad, about ten miles on the Uxbridge Road from Tyburn turnpike. At eighteen minutes to one Turner appeared in the ring, dressed in a fashionable great coat, and threw up his hat, and Scroggins immediately followed. Cribb tied the yellow handkerchief belonging to Turner to the stake, and Oliver immediately placed the blue fogle of Scroggins beside it. The combatants shook hands before they stripped. Oliver and Clarke appeared as seconds to Scroggins; the Champion of England and Harry Harmer attended upon Turner. Three to one was the current betting against the latter, and many thousands depended on the event. Turner was an object of great curiosity, from his late unfortunate battle with Curtis; but viewed as the antagonist of Scroggins, the idea was sneered at. The ring measured twenty-four feet, and the numerous carriages round it formed an elegant amphitheatre. Lord Yarmouth and Colonel Barton acted as timekeepers.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—It was expected, on the combatants setting-to, that Scroggins would adopt his usual method of boring in to his adversary, or, to use his own words, “take the fight out of him;” but he was more cautious than usual, and a good deal of sparring took place. He made a feint at Turner, and instantly got away again. At length Scroggins put in a hit—some trifling blows passed between them, and ultimately Turner went down lightly, when Scroggins held up his hands, by way of showing how little he thought of him.

2.—Scroggins now appeared a little more on the alert to follow up his success; he gave Turner a sharp nobber, but he failed in doing his usual punishing execution. The customer before him was not of that easy description he had flattered himself, and though Turner went down, it was not from effective hitting. (Many persons exclaimed, “Now where’s your three to one?”)

3.—Turner, on setting-to, fought with his opponent manfully, and planted a severe facer under his left eye; and though, at the close of the round, he was again down, his capabilities as a boxer were manifest. He also met with great encouragement from the spectators.

4.—This was a sharply contested round; both were at work in right earnest, and in a close Turner gave his opponent a severe cross-buttock. The concourse of persons was so great, and their eager curiosity not keeping pace with the etiquette usual upon these occasions, pressed forward to the ropes—the outer ring was broken, and all traces of the fight lost sight of, excepting to a few, who, at the hazard of their lives, kept in front.

The men continued to fight for several rounds under this disadvantage, when the inner and smaller ring was broken into, the stakes knocked down, and the ropes trodden under foot. It was now more like a street row than a prize fight, and the combatants had scarcely a yard of space. Scroggins, notwithstanding being so close to Turner, had by no means the best of him, and it was the general opinion, that had no interruption occurred Turner would have won. To attempt to describe any of these rounds with accuracy would be a deviation from the truth; and Mr. Jackson afterwards declared it was totally out of his power to give an opinion upon them. Carter, Painter, Dolly Smith, Richmond, etc., exerted themselves with their horsewhips to beat out the ring, but in vain; nothing less than a troop of horse or a company of soldiers with fixed bayonets could have attempted it with success. Both men were accordingly taken from the ring, and Mr. Jackson went round, declaring all the bets to be null and void. At this period not less than thirty thousand persons were present, and the carriages on the spot and along the road were estimated at eight thousand. A suspense of two hours occurred, and thousands of inquiries took place to ascertain how the day was to be finished. During this interval, the costermongers wishing to clear their carts, but not being able to persuade the customers (who had paid 3s. a-piece to see the sports of the day) to retire from their situations, actually took out their horses and lifted up their vehicles, after the manner of shooting rubbish. This mode of ousting the tenants occasioned much laughter, and a little extra boxing. At length Mr. Jackson appeared, when it was announced that the contest was adjourned to a future day.

Turner proved himself a much more competent boxer than was expected, and Scroggins was equally deceived. Turner convinced Scroggins that his furious onslaught was to be stopped. He hit him once so tremendously on the jaw, that the latter held up his head afterwards, and did not go boring in so furiously as heretofore. They were both fresh on leaving the ring, but neither of them were considered in good condition. Scroggins had a black eye, and one of Turner’s peepers was a little out of repair. It is but fair to state that much difference of opinion existed on the subject, many persons contending that Scroggins was not in the slightest degree punished, and that Turner showed evident symptoms of weakness on leaving the ring. Several noblemen were present, and many first-rate theatricals. It proved a rare day for the inn-keepers and pike-men, and it was impossible to move a step, where the pocket was concerned, without dearly paying for curiosity.

On the Monday evening after the fight every room to the top of Belcher’s house was crowded to excess by the “Fancy,” so anxious were the amateurs to learn the decision as regarded the coming battle. The following articles were agreed to:—

Castle Tavern, Holborn, March 31, 1817.

“John Scroggins engages to fight Edward Turner, 120 guineas to 80, on the 27th of May. Ten pounds on each side are deposited; to fight in a twenty-four feet ring, half-minute time; one half of the remainder of the money to be deposited at Scroggins’s on the 15th of April. The whole to be made good on the 20th of May, at Tom Belcher’s. The fight to take place not within twenty-five miles from London. To be a fair stand-up fight. Mr. Jackson to name the place of fighting, and to receive the money, till all is made good. The money, upon the first failure of deposit, to be forfeited, and the other half if not made good. To meet in the ring between twelve and one.

“J. SCROGGINS, his + mark.

“E. TURNER.

“Witness, J. W.”

So confident, it appears, were the partisans of Scroggins that victory would again crown his exertions, that no fall whatever in the betting took place from his unexpected battle in a room with Fisher, when in a state of inebriation; in fact, it operated materially in his favour. This rencontre will be found under the memoir of Scroggins, Chapter IX., post.

In consequence of the Ascot race week falling at the time appointed in the articles (May 27), the battle was, by mutual consent, postponed to the 10th of June. Notwithstanding the secrecy observed, the magistrates of Essex got hint enough not to permit Matching Green to be the spot, as fixed upon for this trial of skill to be decided. The attraction in the sporting circles was so great that vehicles of all descriptions were on the road the whole of Monday night; and as soon as daylight began to peep on Tuesday morning the amateurs were in motion. Upon their arrival at Harlow, the interruption was found out, and after a short deliberation it was decided that the battle should take place in the adjoining county, Hertfordshire, in a paddock contiguous to Sawbridgeworth. Thither the cavalcade posted without delay, and the inhabitants of that quiet village were not a little astonished at this sudden visit from galloping horsemen, rattling post-chaises, barouches, tilburys, carts, etc., till the important cause was learned. It was a profound secret here, notwithstanding Turner slept at Mr. Parsons’, the White Lion Inn, Sawbridgeworth, the preceding evening. He arrived from New Town in Wales, where he had been in training under the care of his uncle, Mr. Turner, and reached Barnet on Friday evening incog. He scarcely saw five persons before he entered the ring, being under the immediate care of his cousin, Mr. Baxter. He was in much better condition than when he stripped at Hayes; but it is certain he still might have been brought to a finer pitch. He weighed ten stone five pounds. On meeting with his opponent, Scroggins, they shook hands in the most friendly manner together. The stakes, as before stated, were £120 on the part of Scroggins, against Turner’s £80. At half past twelve Turner appeared in the twenty-four feet roped ring, and threw up his hat. Scroggins soon followed his example. Tom Owen and Jacobs were the seconds of Turner; and Harmer and Clark attended upon Scroggins. Owen tied the yellow colour of his man upon the post, and Harmer covered it with the true blue belonging to Scroggins. It is curious to remark that this same blue handkerchief belonging to the latter he had won all his seven battles in, but now he sported a new one round him. The ring was unusually respectable and select, not being above one deep, few, if any, pedestrians being able to go the distance of thirty miles in time. One o’clock having arrived, the parties shook hands, and the battle commenced. Two to one on Scroggins.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Two minutes elapsed in sparring and dodging each other round the ring, both anxious to obtain the first advantage. The firm and erect attitude of Turner, who appeared armed at all points, seemed to puzzle Scroggins so much that he was at a loss how to commence the attack with any degree of certainty, and that formidable resolution of going in furiously, which gave him the lead in the commencement of all his other fights, in the present instance had visibly abated. Scroggins at length, neck or nothing, made a sort of rush in, and after a short scuffling close, Turner went down from a slight hit on the side of his head. (Loud shouting, and three to one on Scroggins.)

2.—The little hero seemed pleased with his success, and was going in with much gaiety to reduce the confidence of Turner, when the latter put in a sharp teazer on Scroggins’s mug with his right hand, that rather stopped his career; in the course of the round he planted another desperate facer, and added a severe hit on the ribs. In closing, the strength of Scroggy prevailed, and Turner was undermost.

3.—Scroggins seemed, in this early stage of the fight, to anticipate that he had a very ugly customer before him, and appeared unusually cautious. Several good hits passed, but in closing, Turner was again undermost.

4.—Turner was not long before he planted a desperate hit on the throat of his opponent, that gave him a sort of hiccup. Scroggins endeavoured to make some rushing hits, but he lost his distance, and no execution was done. In closing, both went down, but Turner was undermost, having experienced a cross-buttock.

5.—This round was well contested, and Scroggins, quite determined, went in, but Turner milled his nob sharply, and the claret was seen trickling down his face. In closing, Turner was again undermost. At this instant a troop of Yeomanry Cavalry made their appearance, galloping down the lane towards the scene of action, creating some alarm that the fight would again be interrupted; but, on being interrogated, it appeared they were admirers of native courage, and only anxious to witness the mill.

6.—This was a short round. Scroggins missed a desperately aimed blow at Turner’s body; he, nevertheless, rushed in and hit Turner down.

7.—Scroggins came bleeding to the scratch, and a good milling round occurred. Several sharp blows were exchanged, but in closing, Turner was undermost.

8.—The little tar, without ceremony, rushed headlong in, and scuffled with his antagonist till both went down. (“Well done, Scroggins! he’ll tire out Turner,” was the cry.)

9.—On setting-to, Turner put in a tremendous facer with his right hand, and got away with much dexterity. Scroggins endeavoured to return, but lost his distance, and Turner again nobbed him. The former appeared confused, and dropped his hands, but at length rushed in. In closing, Turner was undermost.

10.—This was a sharp round, but the coolness of Turner was manifest, and he hit with much judgment. He was perfectly aware of his opponent’s mode of fighting, and always prepared to give him a warm reception. In closing, Turner undermost.

11.—Scroggins commenced this round with considerable caution, and nearly a minute occurred before a blow was struck. Turner’s left hand claimed an acquaintance with Scroggy’s cheek. Scroggins in return endeavoured to plant a hit at Turner’s mark, that, had it proved successful, might have materially changed the face of the battle. He, nevertheless, in closing, again sent Turner over the ropes.

12.—This was a tremendous round; the combatants rallied in grand style. In closing, Turner fibbed his man terribly, and for the first time the little hero was undermost.

13.—From the severe fibbing Scroggins had received after setting-to he hastily retreated; loud hissing arose from all parts of the ring. But he soon recovered from his panic, and it was as sharp a round as any in the fight. Turner gave his opponent a hit that sent him quite round; but Scroggins again opposed him with the most determined spirit, and followed him till, in closing, both went down. (Turner was now evidently the favourite.)

14.—Turner immediately planted a facer on setting-to. (Applause.) Scroggins also made a hit, and Turner went down from it, as if he had slipped.

15.—Smashing hits on both sides, but many of them out of distance. Scroggins was again fibbed, but he stopped this sort of punishment by holding the hands of Turner. He also obtained the throw, and Turner was undermost.

16.—On setting-to, Scroggins got back, and Turner put down his hands, convincing his opponent he had leisure enough to wait for him. Turner at length planted a desperate ribber, and Scroggins furiously bored in. In closing, the latter again obtained his usual advantage.

17.—This was a curious round. Scroggins, on receiving a hit, turned round, but furiously renewed the combat. Turner, in closing, had the advantage materially in fibbing his opponent, yet Scroggins got him down.

18.—Turner, with much coolness, nobbed Scroggins and got away. The latter seemed quite at fault: he was at sea without a rudder—no sight of land appeared in view, and desperation seemed his only resource. Scroggy rushed in again on the bull-dog system, and ultimately succeeded in getting Turner undermost. During this round Clark, Scroggins’ second, fell down in a fit, and was succeeded by Ned Painter.

19.—Scroggins made a good body hit, and smashed away with much spirit. He was manfully opposed by Turner, but the latter ultimately went down, and almost a second had elapsed when Scroggy fell with all his weight upon him. Some marks of disapprobation, but it might have been accident.

20.—Turner, with considerable ease, planted a right-handed hit on the already chanceried nob of Scroggins, and got away; but the latter, to revenge this attack, rushed in with uncommon ardour to make a change, if possible, and while endeavouring to put in some tremendous blows, received a slight hit that caused him to fall and slip out of the ring.

21.—Some heavy hits were dealt out on both sides, and Turner, in particular, received one so severe on the right side of his nob, that for a second it was almost upon his shoulder. In closing, both down.

22.—This was positively the best round in the fight; the blows were heard all round the ring. A desperate rally occurred, and the men broke away; but Scroggins, not satisfied that he had done enough, endeavoured to go in head foremost to take the fight out of his opponent. Turner, prepared for his impetuosity, hit upwards as he was coming in, upon his throat, with great effect. In closing, both down, Turner undermost. Scroggins, on his second’s knee, hemmed for wind, and he also discharged a considerable quantity of the crimson fluid from his mouth.

23.—Scroggins rushed in, and both down.

24.—Things had now materially changed, and five and six to one were freely offered on Turner. On Scroggins reaching the scratch his knees trembled under him, and he appeared like a man intoxicated. He endeavoured to plant a hit, and fell.

25.—Turner gave him a left handed facer, and also a severe ribber with his right. Scroggins was quite abroad; he could make no hit with any degree of certainty, and once more resorted to boring in, till both went down. The combatants were close together while sitting on the knees of their seconds, when Turner laid hold of his opponent’s hand and gave it a friendly shake.

26.—On setting-to Turner planted a dreadful facer, and soon after hit Scroggins clean down. (Seven to one was offered.) Brandy was now called for to renovate the little hero, but it was of no avail.

27.—On coming to the scratch, after a slight hit from Turner, Scroggins turned round and retreated till he got to a corner of the ring. Turner stood still, pointing his finger at him and beckoning him to come up and fight, but it would not do. Turner was compelled to follow Scroggins, when they closed. Severe fibbing was again dealt out to him, till both went down.

28.—Turner left the knee of his second in a most lively manner, but Scroggins seemed to come very reluctantly to the point of war. Scroggins threw away his blows, and he received some dreadful up-hits in his throat that electrified him.

29.—Scroggins was brought to the mark, and he had scarcely lifted up his hands when he was hit down. (Ten to one offered freely.)

30.—The nob of Scroggins now appeared much damaged, and his ribs exhibited a token of severe punishment. But though the little hero was prevented from doing any mischief, he nevertheless contended for the throw, and obtained it.

31.—The superiority of Turner astonished all present. He made a successful hit with his right hand on the face of Scroggins, and instantly made another good one upon his ribs. The little hero turned round in a state of confusion, and was sent down. (Great applause. Five to three offered that Scroggins did not fight three more rounds.)

32.—Scroggins had been literally stupid for the last half hour, from the heavy blows he had received on his head, and in not being able to stop the upper-cuts of Turner. At out fighting in this round he was much punished, and severely fibbed, till Turner dropped him. (“Well done, Turner.”)

33 and last.—It was all up with the sailor, who had made so much noise in the fighting circles for the last three years. He had been pronounced to be almost invincible, and he had flattered himself into the belief. In the last ten rounds, in point of fighting, he had no chance whatever; nevertheless he fought with much bravery. Scroggins endeavoured to do something in this round, put in some hits, but turned away from his opponent from the severity of punishment, and fell. On being placed upon his second’s knee, he gave in. Upon Harry Harmer hoisting the handkerchief as a token of defeat, it is impossible to describe the appearance of the ring. They seemed lost in reverie, till giving vent to their surprise, they exclaimed, “What, Scroggins given in? Impossible!” The battle lasted one hour and twelve minutes. Scroggins was carried out of the ring, and put into a post-chaise, Turner having won almost without a scratch.

Remarks.—The “Napoleon of the ring” has at length been defeated, but not disgraced; and, like other mighty fighting heroes, has been taught what it is to drink of the bitter cup of disappointment. He is now blamed for his confidence and temerity by those very admirers who supported him; but it may be asked, what is a hero without feeling confident of victory? Scroggins entered the ring under these feelings, and endeavoured to come out a conqueror. He did all that a man could do; and the hero, who defeated in succession, Boots, Dolly Smith, Nosworthy, Eales, Whittaker, Church, and Fisher, ought not to be forgotten in an honourable defeat with a superior man. Scroggins was never considered a boxer in a scientific point of view, and this day he completely proved the truth of the assertion. The judgment and science were completely on the side of Turner; he never struggled to lose his strength in throwing, but went down with scarcely any resistance. He never hit first, but only when the opportunity was undeniable. His guard was so firm that Scroggins could never get at him without being exposed to great danger. His coolness was equally admirable; and, in opposition to Scroggins, he made the ferocity of the latter subservient to his skill. The desperation of Scroggins, which had so terrified his opponents hitherto, was reduced to confusion; and the ease with which he was conquered, astonished the most knowing amateurs, and many of them paid dearly for their confidence. At best, he was only a resolute smashing fighter, and none of his opponents, except Turner, could get away from his severe punishment. He lost by out-fighting with Turner, and was worse off from going in. In the fight at Hayes, Turner has since acknowledged, he received so violent a blow from Scroggins that he could not for a month afterwards open his mouth without considerable pain.

Turner was so fresh that he was able to have fought another battle, and walked round the ring during the next fight. He drove himself to London, and appeared so little hurt from his conflict that he returned with all the gaiety of a spectator. The house kept by Scroggins, in Westminster, was surrounded by hundreds of people waiting for the intelligence; and so much confidence were the crowd inspired with in behalf of the naval hero, that his defeat was not believed till he arrived at home about one in the morning.

The backers of Turner met on the Friday evening following at Belcher’s, the Castle Tavern, Holborn, and presented him with the whole of the stakes, amounting to £120, as a reward for his courage. Turner also paid his fallen opponent a friendly visit the preceding evening, when Scroggins said he wished to retrieve his lost laurels in a new contest for £100 a side. Turner, who had no wish to fight again, but merely as a matter of accommodation, said he could not meet him for less than £200 a side. Scroggins attributed his defeat to a chance blow in the throat, accompanied with getting one of his feet into a small hole in the ground, which threw him off his balance; and it was at that precise instant, he said, that he received the above hit, which deprived him of his wind throughout the conflict.

A short time after the above conquest Turner made a visit to New Town, where he had recently been in training, and which is the birth-place of his parents and relatives. He was hailed with all the respect due to a hero in a more important cause. The companions of his youth, and the admirers of pugilism among the Ancient Britons, caused a congratulatory peal to be rung upon the bells in honour of his victory. A feast was held at the first inn in the place, and two roasted fat sheep, with gilded horns, were served up with the et ceteras, including plenty of game. The evening was conducted with the utmost conviviality, and the Welsh bards mustered upon this occasion composed and sung extemporaneous verses in praise of the brave and of the exploits of their countryman.

Upon the return of Turner to London the stakes were made good, for 300 guineas, and Scroggins, it seems, so much fancied this third trial of skill, that, in order to train correctly, he relinquished his character as a publican, and disposed of his house. But the opinion of the sporting world had changed, and seven to four was the current betting upon Turner. The charm of the invincibility of Scroggins was broken, and the great interest this little hero once sustained in the milling circles was materially injured by his defeat.

From some apparently careless conduct of Scroggins after the stakes were made good, much doubt prevailed through the fancy respecting the battle, and a strong opinion was maintained “that no fight would take place.” Even three to one was betted on this particular point. This circumstance operated as a great drawback upon the interest of the contest, and until the evening preceding the battle very few sums were risked upon the event. Both the combatants, however, had publicly declared it should not be their fault if any disappointment occurred, as they were very anxious to come to a decision upon the subject. Notwithstanding this mystery, Scroggins had not lost his interest with the sporting world, and early on the morning appointed for the battle the roads leading to the scene of action gave proof of it. The ring was made at an early hour, at Shepperton; and, whether owing to accident or intention, upon the arrival of numerous spectators at the above spot, it was given out “the fight will take place at Moulsey.” Thither the motley cavalcade repaired, and the confusion that now occurred beggars description. The flight from Shepperton through Walton was like the retreat of an army. Those, too, who were galloping from Hampton to Shepperton turned suddenly round upon hearing the news; the road in consequence was blocked, the scent for a time lost, and all doubt and glorious confusion. A strong group was at length seen forming across the water at Moulsey, and the boats were actively employed in conveying over the anxious spectators to be in time. It was now booked by many that no fight would take place; and, if it did, that hundreds would not be able to see it. The hoax, however, was dispelled, and “Shepperton” was again the signal. The keeper of the Walton Bridge toll, anxious to come in for a slice of the profits, put up a board at the end of a lane, “This is the road to the fight,” and from this stratagem came in for a tolerable good share of copper; it was, however, considerably out of the way. At length all was right, the ring was formed, and the spectators took their stations. But another dilemma arose—the principal actor had not arrived, and the audience waited in the most anxious suspense. Turner had been in the ring, and thrown up his hat without being answered. Two to one was offered it was no fight. To prevent total disappointment, the after piece was about to be performed first, and two youths appeared stripped. But the cry of “Scroggins, Scroggins,” was now heard; the lads instantly made their exit, and the little hero was greeted with welcome. Upon being asked by a friend if he meant to fight, he answered, “Yes, and win it.” The combatants soon prepared for action, and seven to four was laid against Scroggins, although he appeared in the best condition. Tom Owen and Painter were for Turner, and Paddington Jones and Spring waited upon Scroggins. The colours of the combatants were tied to the stakes of the ring, and at two o’clock the men set-to. The articles stipulated to meet between twelve and one, but Turner said he did not wish to avail himself of this advantage.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—This first round was very similar to the two last battles at Hayes and Sawbridgeworth, but with an increase of caution on both sides. Scroggins, it seemed, did not like the idea of going in to smash his opponent at the onset, after his usual decided manner, when victory crowned his efforts in seven successive contests, but exhibited a total change in his tactics—a complete new feature. This once tremendous rushing boxer now adopted the system of getting away of scientific pugilists. Turner, equally on the alert, and wishing to do everything but receive, lengthened out this round to five minutes and a half, during which time they dodged each other to obtain the first advantage. Turner at last hit short; Scroggins also made a feint without effect. Turner was tired of his position and put down his hands. They, however, finished the round by both hitting together, closed, went down, but Turner undermost. Only four blows were exchanged.

2.—Turner planted two clean hits without experiencing any return. A good rally followed, during which the mug of Scroggins was clareted. In closing, both down, but Turner again undermost.

3.—The little hero, anxious to punish his adversary, rushed in and planted a severe hit under the jaws of Turner and got away. In rallying, however, Scroggins slipped down, and received a slight hit in falling.

4.—Nearly a minute elapsed before a hit was made. Turner gave two sharp blows, and Scroggins put in a desperate nobber just passing the ear of Turner. It was a good round altogether. In closing, the strength of Scroggins prevailed, and Turner was thrown.

5.—The great advantage Turner derived from his height and length over his adversary was evident to every one. Turner, with much sang froid, planted two nobbers and got away. Some sharp blows were exchanged, when the men separated. In finishing the round a smart rally occurred, and, in going down, Scroggins was undermost. (Five to two on Turner; but little betting occurred.)

6.—Scroggins appeared earnestly to wish for in-fighting, but the difficulty and danger of the attempt operated as a drawback. He, however, made two punishing hits. In closing, Turner caught hold of his nob and coloured it with the quickness of a painter with his brush. In struggling for the throw Turner was undermost, but he gave his opponent rather an ugly hoist.

7.—In this round Scroggy appeared to advantage. He fought after his usual method, regardless of the consequences. He stopped Turner as he was coming in with a tremendous hit in his face, that made his head bob again. Scroggins also planted two more severe blows that seemed rather to confuse the tactics of Turner. The latter returned heavily, and made an up-hit at his opponent’s throat, but missed it. In closing, both down, but Turner undermost.

8.—The little hero, full of gaiety, rushed in, planted two successful hits, and bored Turner down.

9.—After an exchange Turner went down from a blow on the side of the head.

10.—The length of Turner again prevailed. Scroggins was desperate in action, but not effective in execution; while, on the contrary, Turner planted three hits in succession on the face of his opponent, and the claret followed at every touch. In closing, Turner was undermost.

11.—This round was contested in a most manly style. Scroggins, with uncommon severity, hit Turner away from him in three successive attempts, when considerable sparring occurred. Turner then took the lead, and the execution he performed on the head of Scroggins was tremendous. He also finished the round in high style; Scroggins was undermost.

12.—Turner was much applauded in this round for his manly conduct. In a short close he let Scroggins down without a blow, throwing up his hands and walking away.

13.—This was a grand round, and Scroggins never displayed anything like such a knowledge of the pugilistic art in any of his previous contests. He stopped with considerable skill, and reciprocal fighting occurred. Scroggins got rather impetuous, and threw his blows away; and Turner was also incorrect in some of his distances. The latter again hit up at his head, but without effect. Scroggins went down.

14.—Considerable execution was done. Scroggins planted two good hits upon his opponent’s nob, but Turner returned upon him so hard and fast that Scroggins turned round rather confusedly. He, however, rallied with great spirit till he slipped down.

15.—Well contested and both down, but Scroggins undermost.

16.—Turner commenced by planting a successful blow on the head of Scroggins; but the latter returned in a spirited manner, and hit, hit, and hit again, till Turner went down.

17.—Some sharp blows occurred between the combatants in this round. Scroggins made a hit over the left eye of Turner, and he also touched his body; but Turner sent his adversary down.

18.—After some sparring, Turner put down his hands and rubbed them against his body. Some blows were exchanged. In struggling to obtain the throw, Turner neatly tripped up his antagonist.

19.—The hands of Turner were covered with the claret of his opponent. In closing, Scroggins was undermost.

20.—Some good hits were exchanged, but materially in favour of Turner, who planted four blows in succession, without having any return, but he (Turner) went down rather weak.

21.—Scroggins planted a sharp blow on the side of Turner’s head, when he dropped down on one knee, but instantly rose again and went on his second’s knee.

22.—Good exchanges. In closing, Turner was down, and Scroggins fell upon him.

23.—On setting-to Turner sighed loudly, as if in want of wind, and, after some little sparring, he dropped his hands, as did also his opponent. Scroggins let several opportunities slip of going in, and when he did it was more of the “forlorn hope” sort of attack, than from the cool judgment of the tactician.

24.—The little hero went in with much resolution, and ultimately sent down Turner upon his latter end.

25.—On coming to the scratch Turner displayed considerable weakness; his knees trembled violently. In the course of this round Turner turned from his antagonist, but Scroggins ultimately went down.

26.—Some sparring occurred, and Turner put down his hands; after this the men fought their way into a close. They broke away and closed again, and dealt out to each other some heavy blows, and Turner received so severely on his kidneys, that he appeared to go down from weakness.

27.—One hour and three minutes had now elapsed, and Scroggins appeared to stand the firmest on his legs; but the betting did not change in his favour. The position of Turner rendered him so formidable that it was dangerous to attack him. Scroggins displayed some of his old antics, and in going in slipped down from a slight hit.

28.—Some blows were exchanged, and Turner went down.

29.—Scroggins even now appeared well upon his legs, and he followed Turner all round the ring, and, in closing, Turner was undermost.

30.—Scroggins felt determined to win if possible. Turner was hit away from his intention of going in. It was a good round, and both down.

31.—Notwithstanding Scroggins showed himself off in good style, the chance was completely against him. He went down from a slight hit. Turner in general finished most of the rounds decidedly in his favour.

32.—Scroggins went down from a severe hit in the body.

33.—This was a good round. Scroggins followed his opponent in a desperate manner all over the ring, and Turner went down from a slip or a slight hit.

34.—The chancery suit was fast coming on Scroggins, and his nob was completely at the service of his opponent. The little hardy hero nevertheless contended for victory till he fell in an exhausted state.

35.—If Scroggins was not satisfied with the superiority of his opponent, the spectators had long previous to this period been convinced that he had no chance of winning. He went down from a slight hit almost upon setting-to.

36.—Turner sent down Scroggins in a twinkling, and his legs doubled up.

37.—The head of Scroggins was in a terrible state; but, notwithstanding, he stood at the scratch in a more firm state than might have been expected. He was shortly hit down, and the general cry was, “Take him away.”

38.—The desperation of Scroggins was not quite exhausted, and he endeavoured to contend up to the last moment. He was so weak that he went down from a mere touch.

39 and last.—His friends were now perfectly satisfied that Scroggins had done everything that a brave man could attempt. The idea of losing seemed terrible to his feelings, and he again endeavoured to meet his opponent. On setting-to the punishment of his adversary was so severe that he turned, in a confused state, and fell forward upon the ropes. Turner patted him upon the back, implying, “you are a brave fellow.” The battle was now at an end. Scroggins could not come again, and Turner immediately went up to him and shook him by the hand before he quitted the ring. It lasted one hour and thirty-one minutes and a half.

Remarks.—Scroggins, from the brave conduct he displayed in this third battle, completely removed the insinuations which were levelled at him respecting his defeat at Sawbridgeworth, and re-established his character as a determined game boxer. Though defeated, he has not been disgraced, but compelled to yield to superior skill, height, and length. Turner, from his distinguished conquests over a hero like Scroggins, who had gained such an ascendancy, has placed himself at the top of the tree. It should also be recollected that he has fought four prize battles, and experienced eight weeks’ close confinement, added to the agitation of his mind during his trial, within twelve months. His qualities are rare and valuable, and his position, though not showy, is formidable in the extreme. Cool and collected in the heat of battle, with game of the first quality, Turner retired from the ring with merely a slight mark upon his ear. He was well seconded by Owen and Painter.

Turner’s backers presented him with the whole of the battle-money. He returned to London the same evening, and appeared among the company at Belcher’s as if nothing had happened. Scroggins showed himself in town the next morning; his head exhibited terrible marks of punishment.

Turner by this second victory attained high pugilistic eminence, yet he was literally dragged into milling popularity, by the sovereign contempt with which his capabilities were treated by Scroggins and not a few of his admirers: however, Turner wore his “blushing honours” with becoming moderation.

About this period a boxer, well known in after years to Londoners, young Cy. Davis, of Bristol, attracted much attention, and he was thought in every respect an excellent match for Turner. Davis, as we have said, was not only an object of considerable attraction at Bristol, but had recently given the Londoners a specimen of his quality. A match was therefore made, by Tom Belcher, on the part of his fellow townsman, Davis, for 100 guineas a side; and Turner, from his well-known tried qualities, did not want for friends to support him upon this occasion. Davis stood so well with the sporting people that it was even betting, the former for choice. Wallingham Common, in Surrey, seventeen miles from London, was the spot selected for this combat to take place, and the torrents of rain which prevailed for some hours on Friday morning, June 18, 1819, did not in the least deter the amateurs. Most of the fancy scorned even to sport an umbrella, and it should seem that the recollection of the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo gave them fresh vigour. At length all difficulties were at an end, the rain ceased, the ring appeared in view, and preparation was made for the combat to commence. Turner threw up his hat first in the ring, attended by Cribb and Randall, when, after waiting a considerable time, Davis was loudly called for by the Champion. Some minutes elapsed, when Davis appeared with Tom Belcher and Harmer, and repeated the token of defiance. At a quarter before two the men set-to, the colours having been previously tied to the stakes; the true blue was placed by Randall, and the original yellow-man (which has ever since the period of the late Jem Belcher, out of compliment to his pugilistic fame, been denominated “a Belcher”[[158]]) was tied over the blue by Tom Belcher. Even betting was about the thing.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Davis looked in fine condition, and appeared to be able to win it off hand; his opponent, however, showed better than was expected. But the contrast was great. Davis, from his fine and elegant form, was the beau ideal of the ring-goers, while Turner looked more like a weatherbeaten Greenwich pensioner. It was thought the gay Bristol Boy would go to work without ceremony, and nob Turner in style, from the manner he disposed of Belasco the Jew; but whether the high fame of Turner had made any impression upon his feelings, or the Dutch-Sam-like countenance of his opponent checked him, it is certain that he was particularly cautious, and Turner hit first slightly with his left hand. Long sparring, and Davis kept retreating. Turner put in five light hits on the body and head, when Davis smiled. Another long pause of sparring occurred, and Randall was seen sitting on the ropes minutely eyeing the tactics of both the combatants. Some exchanges took place; the right cheek of Davis appeared red, and Turner planted a blow on the body that sent Davis staggering. He went down. (Loud shouting. Six to four.)

2.—Turner had scarcely planted a hit, when Davis went down. (Great murmurings, and “Turner, my boy, you’ll win it without a scratch.” Two to one.)

3.—Great astonishment was excited at the conduct of Davis, and he seemed as if afraid to face his man with any confidence. After some cautious sparring, Turner made a hit, but it was so much a question whether it touched Davis or not, that the umpires advised his seconds that he should be more careful in future in his going down, as, if such conduct was pursued, the battle must immediately have an end. (Disapprobation expressed.)

4.—Turner made play, and used both hands with success. Davis smiled, and with a tremendous right-handed hit on the head knocked Turner down. This decided the first knock-down blow; Turner also showed the first blood. (“Go along, Davis,” from the Bristolians; “you can do it if you like. Another such hit, and it will be all right.”)

5.—Instead of Davis going in to follow up his success, he again went down from a slight hit; in fact, it was thought almost without a blow.

6.—Turner followed Davis, and planted some hits. The latter, it should seem, had no inclination to go in, or he might have stood upon even terms with his opponent. He was no novice at fighting; he could also hit hard and stop well. He, however, again went down, when the Bristol men appeared quite angry with him, crying out, “Davis, what are you at?” (Four to one).

7.—Davis appeared as if he felt these reproaches, and went to work in earnest. “Look, look,” observed several amateurs, “this chap may win it now, if he will but go in and fight. He can do something if he likes.” It was a good round; but Davis was now really hit down. “Bravo, Turner!” and “Give him a little one for me.” Also, “Well done, Davis.”

8.—Davis positively seemed afraid to hit home. Turner got away from a flooring right-handed hit; but the latter was now the most punished, and bleeding. Davis had the best of the hitting, and gave Turner a hard blow on the side of the head. Davis might have showed himself off in good style, but it was urged he wanted pluck. Both down.

9.—Davis went down with a slight hit.

10.—Notwithstanding the shy fighting of Davis, he hit Turner on the jaw so tremendously with his right hand, that he went down like a shot, and seemed almost in a state of stupor. “Go it, Davis,” from his partisans; “that’s the way to mill; you’ll win.” Turner was quite abroad; another such a hit, had it been quickly repeated, must have proved a quietus. This dreadful hit operated seriously on Turner’s backers. Long faces were seen in all directions, and even Randall shook his head, scarcely knowing what to think of it. Indeed, it was all but over with Turner. Great applause was here given to Davis, and the Bristolians were all as gay as larks.

11.—Davis did not follow up his success. Some sharp exchanges took place, and Turner’s face was clareted. Davis turned round from the hitting, and it was thought that Turner hit him when he was down. “Foul, foul,” was cried. “Never mind; they’re only even,” said a sly old sportsman.

12.—Turner stopped most of his opponent’s blows, and sent him down. This almost jaw-breaker waked Turner to the dangerous intent of his opponent’s right hand. However singular it may appear, it might almost be urged, that this blow gave victory to Turner. He now became down to it, and stopped it with great judgment.

13.—This was a good round; and Davis showed like a boxer till he was hit down. If he had possessed any sort of fear, it seemed now removed; and his conduct at this juncture claimed praise. An excellent judge exclaimed, “Davis may win it now.” The Bristol Boy here received a great deal of applause from various parts of the ring.

14.—The right hand of Davis was very dangerous, and he nobbed Turner staggering away; but the latter, game-cock like, returned to the attack, and sent Davis down.

15.—In this round Turner beat Davis to a complete stand-still. “What’s o’clock now?” cried Cribb. “It’s all up, I believe.”

16 to 19.—Turner stopped with great skill most of Davis’s blows; but Turner received a dreadful hit over his right eye, that made him almost go down from its severity. The claret flowed again; but Turner, undismayed, followed his opponent, who again got down in the quickest manner he could, seemingly to escape hitting.

20.—In this round Turner got Davis in a corner, when Randall said, “Ned, do as I do; keep that in your eye, my boy, and you’ll soon fetch him out.” Davis turned aside from the severity of the hitting, and went down.

21, 22.—This was a singular round, from the following circumstance:—Belcher stooped down and picked up a piece of paper, and put it in Davis’s left hand, to keep it close. Turner thought it was a stone, and said, if that was the way he was to be used, he would not fight. Randall rushed in to see what it was, anxious to do his duty as a second, and almost tore the paper out of Belcher’s hand, who had now got hold of it, openly showing it, that nothing unfair was meant, and that it had been used merely for the purpose described. Some words ensued. The umpires inquired the cause of the disturbance. Belcher explained. It caused some little agitation round the ring, many of the amateurs thinking it was a bank note, and that a wager had been proposed, and that staking was attempted as a sort of ruse de guerre, to give Davis time. The umpires appeared satisfied that nothing “unfair” had been attempted. This was a sharp, well-fought, short round, and both the men went down. Davis had now retrieved his character in a great degree with the spectators, who asserted that when he was at work he did not mind it, but that it appeared he did not like to begin to hit.

23 to 26.—Some good rounds, Davis fighting better than he had done; but in the latter he received a body hit that made quite a dent upon his frame. Turner, in closing, slung him round like a cat. This wisty-castor on the body occasioned a complete revolution, and “bellows to mend” was the true feature.

27.—Turner put in a dreadful blow under the ear of Davis, or rather at the back part of his head. It occasioned a large gash, and he went down in a pitiable state.

28 and 29.—Good rounds and sharp hitting. Davis determined to let the amateurs see that he could fight a bit. Both the eyes of Davis had now been measured for a suit of mourning; and, on his forehead, he had got a lump like an egg. It was evident that after all he did not want for bottom in regard to taking.

30.—Davis, it was asserted, fell without a blow, and Turner fell heavily on him.

31.—This round might be termed the finisher. Davis was so stupid that he stood quite still, while Turner hit him down. He could not lift his hands. Nature had deserted him—his eyes had lost their fire, and he was viewed by the amateurs as an object of pity rather than ill-natured remarks.

32 and last.—It is true Davis made his appearance at the scratch, but he turned away from the blow and fell down. The contest was over in forty-five minutes.

Remarks.—If any observations can be made a nut-shell might contain them. In a word, too much praise had been previously bestowed on the prime qualities said to be possessed by Davis. Owing to his decisive fight with Belasco, senior, anticipation was on tiptoe to behold another pugilist from Bristol—a soil that had given birth to Big Ben, Jem and Tom Belcher, the Game Chicken, Tom Cribb, Gulley, Nicholls, Bob Watson, etc.; names familiar whenever comparisons are made respecting the goodness of a boxer. Davis’s right hand was very dangerous. From his youth, weight, freshness, and strength, he ought to have won it. It was urged by his friends that his going down so often was owing to a weakness in his knees—a rheumatic affection, which had seized him a few days previous to the battle. It is only common justice to Davis to state that he was terribly beaten about the head, and one of his hands, arms, and shoulders exhibited heavy punishment; more experience, and another trial, perhaps, may recover him his lost laurel. It is no new case that some men are “half beat” before they enter the ring; and that young soldiers wink on first smelling powder. It should also be remembered that only one Randall and one Turner at present stand upon the list. The talents of the latter are so well known that it would be superfluous to state them. Upon this occasion, however, he became the offensive instead of the defensive pugilist. He might have been better in condition had longer time been allowed him; at all events, it must be a second Randall to defeat Turner.

Such was the opinion of some of the best judges of the time, and it certainly was not prudent at any rate to match young Cy. against so good a tactician as Turner for a first trial.

The sporting world now looked forward to a match between Turner and Martin, more especially as Turner, after his defeat by Randall, had been challenged by Martin, who had about the same time disposed of the hardy Scroggins; both men too had succumbed to Randall, and the different styles of their defeats had been the topic of much critical discussion.

The match was at length made, neither man being loth, at Tom Spring’s (Tom then kept the Catherine Wheel, Little St. James’s Street, Pall Mall). Five to four on Turner was the first offer, but these odds were thought too small. Master Scroggins, who was an original in his way, being present, submitted the following remarks for the consideration of the amateurs: “He would not give tuppence for choice—he had tried both the men: Turner was the awkwardest man alive to get at; but Martin was the hardest hitter. Two gamer coves never entered the ring, and when either of the men said ‘No,’ the other would be very glad of it.” The opinion of Randall was diametrically opposite. He had also entered the lists with Martin and Turner. Scroggins was defeated by the latter in one hour and twelve minutes in good style; while, on the contrary, Martin, after a desperate contest, with Scroggins, of two hours and two minutes, only gained it, as it were, by the toss up of a halfpenny. Calculations were made accordingly, and Turner rose to seven to four, with evens offered that the fight lasted over an hour, and two to one that Turner was not beaten in one hour and a quarter.

This battle took place on Tuesday, October 26, 1819, for 100 guineas a side, at Wallingham Common, Surrey. Little betting occurred on the day of fighting, as it was booked to a certainty that Turner must win. The road, however, on the morning of fighting, exhibited the usual features of fun, frolic, and disaster. At one o’clock Turner threw his hat within the ropes, followed by Tom Belcher and Randall; Martin quickly replied, having the assistance and advice of Tom Cribb and Tom Spring.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On stripping, both combatants appeared in the highest condition. Martin was as fine as the human frame could be trained; true, he looked big, but there was nothing gross about him; his form, however, seemed more calculated for a successful pedestrian than a pugilist, in consequence of the heavier half of him being from his hips to his feet. Turner was all that could be wished; indeed, he was never in such good trim before, and, excepting the weakness of his knee, there was not the slightest uneasiness by his friends as to the result. Much cautious sparring for an opening occurred before a blow was struck. Martin kept retreating a little, but at length he made a hit, which was stopped cleanly by Turner. Another pause, when Turner made a slight hit, and Martin kept getting away. Turner cool, and on the look-out, with his left hand felt for the body of his opponent, and, in returning, Martin threw his blow away. The latter seemed rather tired with holding up his hands, and on his looking down to the ground, the good generalship of Turner was visible to all the ring, as he immediately let fly on Martin’s nob. The baker, however, disengaged himself from a short rally, but in this spirt one of his ogles got severely damaged, and the claret was oozing out of the corner. Martin retreated from the attacks of his opponent to the corner of the ring, when some blows were exchanged, and, on Martin’s going down, he thought he had been hit improperly, as he exclaimed, “Isn’t that foul?”

2.—Turner soon put in a bodier, and repeated it without any return, but on attempting it a third time Martin stopped him. Turner, with much dexterity, put in a severe facer with his left hand, and also a winder, but Martin made some of his blows tell, and, in a severe struggle for the throw, both went down.

3.—Martin did not attempt to hit first, or to smash, as was anticipated, but kept retreating till he was compelled to hit as it were in his own defence. He again got into the corner of the ring, pursued by his opponent; but, unlike the Nonpareil, when in this perilous situation, he did not appear to know how to extricate himself, and went down from a hit.

4.—This was a manly round, and Martin made an exchange of hits, and also endeavoured to fib Turner. It was a sharp struggle, and both down, but Turner undermost. “Well done, Martin;” and the floury coves took a little courage, and sported a dead man or two, as they thought upon the improved suit.

5.—This round was a most mischievous one to Martin, and materially reduced his strength. He received a dreadful jobber right on his nose, and some other ugly hits, and, after a severe struggle, in going down Turner fell heavily upon him.

6.—Martin came up to the scratch distressed, but he commenced fighting, and hit Turner on the nob. The latter received it with the most perfect sang froid, and soon after put in a throttler that almost deprived the baker of breath. Turner followed it up by a bodier. Martin tried to make a return but without effect; and, in getting away from his opponent, he staggered and fell from weakness.

7.—Martin made a good stop, but he soon went down quite exhausted.

8.—The baker, with much courage, endeavoured to plant two good hits, but Turner stopped them with scientific excellence. Martin was very weak, and kept getting away, till he got a facer that sent him down, and his head rolled about like a top. Twenty to five was now offered.

9.—Martin came staggering to the scratch, and it was not long before he again found himself upon the ground.

10.—The fine stopping of Turner put all the well-meant efforts of Martin at defiance. This was a good round, and Martin fought manfully till he was fibbed down by Turner, who walked away.

11 to 15.—Martin was getting better in the last round, and threw his opponent.

16.—Turner not only had the best of the hitting, but fell heavily upon Martin.

17 and 18.—Turner put in a severe blow on the chest, and, in struggling for the throw, he slung Martin round and round till he went down.

19.—The science of Turner, in stopping nearly all the blows of Martin, convinced the good judges that, without an accident, he was winning cleverly. Martin, however, got Turner down in this round, and it was a bad fall for the latter.

20.—This was a sharp round, but nothing could keep Martin from retreating to the corner of the ring. Randall ordered the bottles to be moved, and both of them went down from a sharp struggle.

21 to 23.—It is true Martin was much better, but he could not take the lead. Turner, however, showed symptoms of weakness, and a little brandy was given him to recruit. Both down in all these rounds.

24 to 26.—The friends of Martin thought his chance improved; and in the last round, in throwing Turner, the bad knee of the latter narrowly escaped the post as his leg came in contact with it.

27 to 30.—Turner still fought cautiously, put in a good one now and then, reducing the strength of his opponent with ease to himself, and certainty as to the event. The majority of these rounds were in favour of Turner.

31.—Martin put in a sharp nobber, and also a body blow, and had altogether the best of this round, till they both went down.

32.—The baker felt elated with his success, and went sharply to work, and put in another heavy facer, and also some hits, till Turner went down weak.

33.—Turner let fly on setting-to, and a dreadful blow under the ear seemed almost to deprive Martin of his recollection. He, however, got away, and, upon endeavouring to make a stand, he fell down exhausted.

34.—This round might be termed the quietus. Some blows were exchanged, when Turner hooked his opponent round the neck and hit him in the body, ditto, ditto, ditto, ditto, and ditto, and in struggling for the throw, while going down, Martin received another heavy body blow. “Well done, Turner,” and loud applause.

35.—The excellence displayed by Turner was of the highest order. He was never seen to such advantage before; and Angelo, in the best of his days, could not have shown greater skill in fencing than Turner did in parrying off the attacks of his opponent. The knee of Turner failed him in this round, and he slipped down from a slight hit.

36.—This was a good round, and the hitting was sharp on both sides. Martin exerted his last effort, and put in some heavy blows, till Turner slipped and went down.

37.—It was all up with Martin, and he was so exhausted, that, in endeavouring to get away from the punishment of Turner, it was said he fell without a blow.

38.—This was a similar round, when Turner said, “Jack, if I am to be beat, stand up and win it like a man.” Martin was in such a state of stupor as not to be able to reply.

39.—Martin was here so dead-beat that he again fell down without a blow. Some murmurings occurred, when the umpire said, “Martin, recollect this is to be a stand-up fight.”

40 and last.—Martin endeavoured to put in a blow, and went down from a slight hit. On the baker being put upon his second’s knee, and time called, Cribb said, “I believe we may say it’s all over.”

Remarks.—Martin was very much punished about the throat, but particularly about his chest and body, yet scarcely any claret was spilt on this occasion. It was urged by some persons present that it was not a good fight, and that Martin did not show any pretensions to pugilism. It should, however, be recollected that Martin was opposed to one of the first boxers of the day, and that all his efforts were stopped by the superior skill of his opponent. Turner also exhibited great improvement, and fought well with his right hand. He showed himself a complete general, for although he lost the toss, he seldom failed by his manœuvres in the round to place his adversary with his face to the sun. The coolness of Turner was also greatly in his favour; he can receive without being put out of his course. The Nonpareil has now left the Ring, but it may be said that Turner is also a Nonpareil. It was urged that could Turner have trusted to his knee, the fight would have been over in fifty minutes instead of one hour and seven (the time it lasted). He retired from the contest almost without a scratch upon his face, and it should be taken into the scale of calculation that Martin is not to be got at so very easy, as he is tall, and leans very backward on setting-to. Turner was considerably under eleven stone, and Martin eleven stone four pounds.

Martin, it appears, was by no means satisfied with his defeat at the hands of Turner, but he resolved to have a little more experience in the prize ring before he essayed another match with that clever boxer.

Tom Belcher, when Bacchi plenis, at Cy. Davis’s opening dinner at the Bear and Ragged Staff, Smithfield, Wednesday, August 9, 1820, made a foolish challenge to Turner, and also Randall, to fight each for £500 a side, and articles were drawn and a deposit made. On the following Saturday, the fumes of the wine having evaporated, all parties shook hands in friendship, Belcher acknowledging it was the liquor that was speaking, and the affair, exaggerated into importance by “the historian” ended in smoke.

In the interim Martin had defeated, as we have already noted in the Life of Randall, ante, p. 351, Josh. Hudson, Cabbage, Phil. Simpson, and Dav. Hudson, and now challenged Turner to a second contest for £100 a-side. Ned could not in honour refuse, and on the 5th of June, 1821, our hero was defeated, as will be seen at length in the Life of Martin in the next chapter.

The success of Martin brought forward another old opponent. Cy. Davis, having beaten J. Bushell at Moulsey, and feeling mortified at his defeat by Turner, addressed a letter to Turner, and shortly after they met. Six to four was betted upon Davis, and the result justified the odds. The gallant Ned was out of condition, and fell before the strength and freshness of his youthful antagonist. See Cy. Davis, in Appendix to this Period.

A new candidate for fistic honours, Peace Inglis, having beaten one Hamilton, a waterman, at Moulsey (in 1822), then Deaf Davis at Harpenden (in February, 1823), and lastly George Curtis, brother of the Pet (in August of the same year), was matched against Turner for £100. The battle took place, April 20, 1824, and the brave Ned again succumbed to youth and stamina.

Before the curtain finally falls upon the pugilistic career of Turner, we have a closing scene of triumph to redeem by a bright ray his setting sun. Challenged by Inglis, Ned at first declined to fight for less than £200, but was at last prevailed upon to make it £100, and Tuesday, November 9, 1824, being appointed, the former antagonists met at Colnbrook. The counter attraction of Lord Mayor’s Day, for it was then a pageant and a general city festival, thinned the road a little; but the regular ring-goers were there, and the old fanciers evinced high interest that the once glorious veteran should repair his recent reverses. His veteran daddy, “the sage of the East” (Tom Owen), who had been his companion for the last fortnight, keeping a watchful eye over Turner’s training at Walton, unfortunately met with an accident, and sprained his ankle, which prevented him from filling the position of second to his “darling boy.” Inglis looked well, and was confident of success, and, from his known bravery, was a fancy article, although the odds were against him. Turner first showed, attended by Tom Shelton and Harry Holt, and threw his hat into the ring. Inglis soon followed, but his castor (absit omen) fell outside of the ropes. Jem Ward and Ned Neale were his seconds. A brave fight was anticipated.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On peeling, the ould one looked like a new man. The renovating air of the Welsh mountains appeared to have had the desired effect upon the frame of Turner. He looked steadily at his opponent, and made himself up to do mischief, but Inglis avoided close quarters. After some little dodging, an exchange of blows, but nothing the matter. Inglis got out of the corner well, but, in the middle of the ring, he napped a hit, which gave him the staggers. “Beautiful!” exclaimed the boys from Bermondsey. Turner, on going in, received a heavy right-handed blow between the ogles that made him wink again, filling his eyes with water, but no tears! This blow rather alarmed his backers, and the face of Jack Randall betrayed a serious aspect for the safety of his friend. Turner missed an upper-cut blow, which, in all probability, might have shortened the battle. Inglis was very quick upon his legs, but, although he made several motions to do summut, the position of Turner was so difficult that he could not get at him. Turner at length planted a nobber, and Inglis fell on one knee. (Huzzas, roars, and clapping of hands, expressive of the joy felt by the Bermondseyites at the success of Turner.)

2.—Turner was determined not to give another chance away; and the hint, “He’s coming with his right hand,” roared out by the eloquent Holt, kept Turner awake. Inglis bobbed his head once or twice; and it was lucky he did so, as a chancery slice was in readiness for him. Some heavy blows were exchanged, with this difference, Turner stopped them, while Inglis received. The latter got a severe nose-ender, which not only uncorked the claret, but left a stupefying quality behind it. “Bravo, Turner; the ould one is a little bit stronger than he was last time.” In a scuffle, two little drops of blood appeared on Turner’s cheek. In closing, both down.

3.—This was a short round. Ned was the hero of the tale at this early part of the fight; but “hopes and fears” were expressed as to his strength. “If he can but last,” said a knowing one, “it is as safe as the Bank.” The stops of Turner were truly excellent; but Inglis bored him to the ropes, and fell on him.

4.—Inglis got away from several rum ones; but he never took the lead to do any mischief. Turner planted in succession two heavy hits—stupefiers; Inglis never flinched. Turner got Inglis down, amidst most uproarious thunders of applause.

5.—This round added considerably to the odds in favour of Turner. After two or three movements of no effect, the ould one caught Inglis with a cutting-up, or rather a cutting-down, blow, and Inglis was floored. An artillery salute, and seven to four offered freely.

6.—Inglis again napped a staggering blow, and twirled round in a confused state; nevertheless, he recovered himself, and fought like a good one, till both went down, Inglis undermost.

7.—The goodness of Inglis was never doubted, but there was nothing like winning about his exertions, provided Turner’s strength did not leave him. Inglis napped it on the mouth, succeeded by two severe facers. This was a long round. Inglis planted a slight body blow, but he received three blows for one, till Ned slipped accidentally down.

8.—The young one was piping a little, and the ould one was none the worse for a pause. Sparring for wind. In a struggle both went down, but the feather-bed maker was undermost.

9.—This round booked it almost to a certainty for Bermondsey. Two facers once more put Inglis’s nob into chancery. The young one, however, as good as gold, not only stopped, but countered well. The nose of Inglis, however, was at the service of Ned, and the claret followed as pure as any sample from the bins of Charley Wright, of the Haymarket. The eyes of Inglis lost their fire, and his countenance bore the marks of his mind being abroad. The latter hit anyhow, till he was floored by a nobber. (Cheers, noise, and applause. Two and three to one offered on Turner.)

10.—The chancery suit had performed the task for Ned, and Inglis was done almost brown. He, however, endeavoured to rally, but another cutting-up hit, added to his, already shakey state, produced extreme grogginess. His game was so good that he stood up like bricks, till a hit, almost severe enough to have knocked a stone out of a wall, again floored the brave but unfortunate feather-bed maker. (“Take him away, he has no chance!”)

11.—It was evident to every spectator that Inglis could not win. He staggered like a drunken man; but his goodness enabled him to show fight, and he made blows with the most determined spirit. The ould one again caught him with an upper-cut, and, as he went down, Ned might have added more punishment, but he nobly disdained taking an advantage, held up his hands, and walked away, amidst loud shouts of approbation. (“Bravo! Ned; that is like an Englishman.” “True courage is always backed by feeling and generosity—first the lion and then the lamb,” said a cove in a rusty black suit, something like a schoolmaster. “Never mind,” said one of the Partiality Club, “it is good doctrine, come from whom it may.”)

12.—Short, but terribly severe. Inglis was floored sans ceremonie by Turner. (“Take the brave fellow away.”)

13.—When time was called, his seconds bustled him up; but Inglis was in a doldrum till they shook him, and, on roaring out in his ear, “Ned’s coming,” he opened his eyes wildly, and, as if by instinct, prepared himself to fight. He rushed towards his opponent, but Turner sent him down.

14.—“His youth will bring him round,” observed a few of his friends. “Not this fight,” said a costermonger; “he’s done brown twice over.” Inglis again down. A hat was thrown up—

15th and last.—But he came again to the scratch. Inglis staggered about for a second or two, when he fell stupefied, Turner merely looking at him. It was over in forty-six minutes.

Remarks.—Science must win, if supported by moderate strength; science will win if a man is out of condition—that is to say, science will get a man out of trouble; it enables a boxer to wait for his man, time him, meet his opponent, bring him down to his weight, and ultimately prove the conqueror. It is not necessary for a long yarn to describe the beauties of the “ould one” in the ring; suffice it to observe, Ned is a master of the art; his stops were interesting to the spectator; his hits were decisive, and he finished off his man like a first-rate artist. Excepting a tremendous right-handed lunge which Ned received between his eyes in the first round, all the other hits did little execution. The method adopted by Turner to lead his opponent into trouble, and then punishing him for his temerity, evinced skill and tactics of the highest order of milling. Inglis proved himself a game man in every point of view; but, valuable a quality as endurance must always be considered in boxing, it is of little use when a man’s head gets into chancery. Inglis was beaten to a stand-still, and ought to have been taken away three rounds before the fight was over. Inglis was a brave, worthy, honest, well-conditioned creature. Turner must have won the battle much sooner had not one of the small bones in his left hand been broken in the early part of the fight.

Poor Ned was highly pleased to take leave of the prize ring in the character of a winner, and dined with his friends at Bill Moss’s, the Crown, in the Borough, on Monday, November 15, 1824. He was surrounded by some capital sporting patrons. On his health being drunk, he said, “It was very likely that he should not fight any more; but if he did alter his mind, he would always behave like a man.”

Turner gradually began to decline in health: he became lame, and, labouring under the effects of an asthma, announced his farewell benefit to take place in April, 1826. His last appearance on any public occasion, was at Hudson’s dinner, on Thursday, March 31, 1826.

Out of respect to an old favourite in the prize ring, the amateurs mustered strongly at the Tennis Court, on Tuesday, April 18, but it was not made known to the visitors that poor Ned had departed this life on Monday (the preceding day) at two minutes before five in the afternoon. The sets-to, generally, were well contested.

Randall and Scroggins mounted the stage, and having made their bows, the former came forward, and spoke as follows:—“Gentlemen, I am requested by the friends of poor Turner to come forward and express their thanks in his behalf, for the kind and liberal manner in which you have this day manifested an interest in his fate. Gentlemen, Ned and I have been opponents in the ring, but we have always been friends in private, and no man feels more for his situation than I do. That we shall be able to see him here at any future time, I think is more than doubtful; but let us hope we may all see him hereafter” (loud applause). Randall appeared much affected. Jack Scroggins followed. “Gemmen,” said he, “Ned was always a gentlemanly sort of a man—he is now gone to his long home, and I hope God will forgive him, as well as everybody else. Let us all live while we can, and when we can’t live no longer, why, I suppose we must die; and I don’t see why a fighting man shouldn’t see eternity as well as anybody else.”

“Well! so I’ve floor’d these ‘fancy’ fighting cocks,

And finish’d them in style! Presumptuous fellows!

They chaff’d of science—and, forsooth, would box

With one whose ‘hits’ are sure to touch ‘the bellows!’

Conceited mortals! thus to ‘spar’ with Death!

The greatest champions that the world e’er saw

By turns have bow’d obedient to my law.

Look back at history’s page,

In every clime and every age,

You’ll find I ‘mill’d’ the mightiest of them all.

No matter how they sparr’d,

My blows were sure and hard,

And, when I threw them, fatal was their fall.

From Alexander down to Emperor Nap,

Whene’er I chose to give the rogues a slap,

Not one could parry off a single rap.

No, no! nor had they each a thousand lives,

Could they have stood against my rattling bunch of fives!”[[159]]

Turner’s remains were removed on Sunday, April 23, 1826, between the hours of one and two, from the house of his cousin, Mr. Baxter, hat maker, in East Smithfield, and deposited in a deep grave in Aldgate Churchyard. The funeral was of the most respectable description. The hearse was followed by two mourning coaches. In the first coach were Mr. Turner (father of the deceased), Mr. Baxter (a cousin of Ned’s), Mr. Leslie, Tom Owen, and Pierce Egan. In the second mourning coach were Tom Cribb, Josh. Hudson, Jack Randall, Harry Holt, Harry Harmer, and Mr. Price Morris.

“From an early hour in the morning,” says the report, “the house of Mr. Baxter was surrounded by numbers of persons anxious to pay respect to the remains of a man who once stood so high amongst the admirers of the art of self-defence. The church and churchyard also were crowded. We noticed many of the corps pugilistique. Scroggins, for the feeling and respect he paid to the deceased, deserves the highest praise. Forgetting all former differences; nay, more, following the side of the hearse, and dropping a tear over the grave of the man who had proved his conqueror, speaks a volume in his favour, as a generous-minded English boxer. Every person present appeared sorry for the loss of Turner. In all his battles he behaved like an honest, honourable man; in fact, throughout his life he was never known to have committed a dishonourable action—his conduct was always upon the square. His last moments were marked by resignation and Christian-like behaviour; and he expired without a sigh in the arms of his cousin, Mr. Baxter. Turner was in the thirty-fourth year of his age.”

The reporter adds, “Turner was a most difficult boxer to be got at; standing with his right leg first, he proved at all times a truly awkward and dangerous customer. In a set-to with the gloves with Tom Spring, at a benefit in the city of Norwich, previous to the fight between Painter and Oliver, the science of Ned Turner was so much admired, and his blows were so effective, as to produce thunders of applause.

“In point of true courage, Turner was never excelled in or out of the ring. He was a most modest, unassuming fellow, and, notwithstanding his intercourse with various grades of society, he was a ‘bashful’ man. In company he was cheerful and good-natured, always anxious to serve his brethren in the prize ring, and throughout the sporting world he was as much respected for his civility as his high courage.”