Pugilistica: The History of British Boxing, Volume 2 (of 3) / Containing Lives of the Most Celebrated Pugilists; Full Reports of Their Battles from Contemporary Newspapers, With Authentic Portraits, Personal Anecdotes, and Sketches of the Principal Patrons of the Prize Ring, Forming a Complete History of the Ring from Fig and Broughton, 1719-1740, to the Last Championship Battle Between King and Heenan, in December 1863

by Henry Downes Miles

BARNEY AARON (“THE STAR OF THE EAST”)—1819–1834.

The subject of this biography first opened his eyes on the bustling world in the populous Goshen of Duke’s Place, Aldgate, on the 21st of November, 1800.

At an early age, as we are told by “Boxiana,” Master Barney distinguished himself by taking his own part, and milling with the utmost impartiality either Jew or Christian boy who might forget the law of meum and tuum in the matter of marbles, tops, kites, balls, or such other personal property as to boyhood appertaineth.

In the year 1819 one Bill Connelly (whose nationality we may suspect to be Hibernian), having assumed the title of the Rosemary Lane Champion, we presume in virtue of his talent, promised the young Israelite a thrashing. To the execution of this promise the juvenile Maccabeus put in a demurrer, and to sustain it hurled defiance in the teeth of Paddy. They met, and after sixteen rounds occupying thirty-three minutes the Philistine was routed, and the children of Israel sang “See the Conquering Hero Comes” in honour of the youthful Jewish warrior.

Aaron next laid hands very heavily on one of “the tribesh,” Manny Lyons, a heavier man by two stone, and superior in length. It was a hard battle for an hour and a quarter, when Barney, worn out by his own exertions rather than the hitting of his adversary, lost the battle from exhaustion, but not his character as a pugilist of high pretensions.

In a second battle with Lyons, Barney in half an hour got his opponent “down to his own weight,” beat him in fifty minutes, and refreshed his laurels, scarcely tarnished by his first defeat.

BARNEY AARON (“The Star of the East”).

Ely Bendon, a good fighter and a game man, challenged Barney, and they met on Bow Common. As the P.C. ropes and stakes were not there the fight is not reported. Barney defeated Bendon in three-quarters of an hour.

Samuel Belasco, a brother of Aby and of Israel Belasco, and therefore of the family of “the fighting Belascos,” tried the quality of young Barney at the cost of defeat, as did Angel Hyams, a nephew of the celebrated Dan Mendoza. But the latter affair being interrupted by a magistrate at the seventh round was never brought to a conclusion.

Barney was now “somebody,” and anxious to earn a name, fame, and “monish,” so he went down to see the fights between Arthur Matthewson, of Birmingham, and Israel Belasco, and of Phil Sampson and Birmingham Hall, which took place on Moulsey Hurst on Wednesday, March 19th, 1823.

A purse was announced for a third battle, when Tom Collins (a 10st. 7lbs. pugilist, who afterwards fought Harry Jones) offered himself. There was a pause, when young Barney modestly stepped into the ropes as a candidate. The fighting was all in favour of Barney, who took astonishing liberties with the nob of Collins, so much so as to turn the odds from six to four against him to five to four in his favour. After half an hour’s sharp work Barney’s left hand was injured, and he was reluctantly compelled to discontinue the fight.

The exhibition however gained him immediate friends, and he was at once matched against Ned Stockman for £25 a-side. The battle was decided on the 6th of May, 1823, at Blindlow Heath, Sussex, after Peter Crawley had conquered Dick Acton. Stockman had for his seconds Eales and Dick Curtis; Barney was attended by Jem Ward and Rogers. The battle was gallantly contested for forty minutes and as many rounds, when Stockman gave in severely punished. He could not resist the resolute and heavy hitting of the Jew, and declared he had never met so good a man of his weight. This victory at once stamped Barney as a boxer of talent.

He was now backed against Lenney, who had seen some service in the P.R., and was known as a good and game trial horse, for £50. Their difference of opinion was decided on the 5th of August, 1823, on Harpenden Common, near St. Albans. Barney threw his castor into the ring under the care of Josh Hudson and Peter Crawley, for he had already gained the favour of the big ’uns. Lenney was advised by the learned and eloquent Harry Holt, while Davy Hudson followed on the same side.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The attitude of Lenney was interesting; and he displayed himself to better advantage than usual. The Jew was in a great hurry to feel for his opponent’s nob; but Lenney said, “Wait a bit!” However, they soon went to work; Lenney had the worst of the milling, and also went down. (Six to four on Barney.)

2.—Lenney put in two such severe blows on the Jew’s head that for an instant he was quite abroad, and turned round; but he recovered himself before the end of the round, and Lenney again went down.

3.—It was a horse to a hen, in this early stage of the fight. Lenney received six distinct nobbers on the middle of his head, and went down helpless.

4.—Lenney succeeded in drawing the Jew after him, by which means he was enabled to give Aaron two or three sharp facers. Lenney at the conclusion of the round was on the turf. Ten to one.

5.—The Jew slipped, and went down from a slight blow.

6.—Lenney put in a couple of facers; but nothing could stop the Jew’s eagerness to be milling. (“Stand still,” said Josh; “do not give your opponent an opportunity by drawing you off your ground.”) Both down.

7.—The nob of Lenney was a complete drum for his adversary to beat. Three successive facers were got in, and Lenney floored.

8.—Nothing could be more decisive; Lenney received three facers, and was hit down.

9.—“Take him away; he has no chance.” The Jew boy had it all his own way. Lenney, it is true, did not want for courage, and now and then put in some good blows; but the stamina and courage of the Jew were too good for him. The jobbing of Aaron spoiled Lenney till he went down. Any odds.

10.—It was a pity to see Lenney continue the battle. He was punished all over the ring, and ultimately measured his length on the turf. (“Take him away; it is too bad to let him fight any longer.”)

11, and last.—It was ditto and ditto, repeated till poor Lenney was again on the grass. His backer, we are informed, who betted fifty pounds that he would not be defeated in half an hour, urged him to continue the battle for a few more rounds, as the chance might turn in his favour; but the answer of Lenney was, “I will not fight longer for any man.” It was over in fifteen minutes.

Lenney was not exactly satisfied in his own mind as to his defeat, therefore another match was made, for £20 a-side. This was decided on Moulsey Hurst, on Tuesday, November 11th, 1823, after Josh Hudson had defeated Jem Ward. Aaron, followed by Aby Belasco and Bill Gibbons, threw his hat into the ring; but a quarter of an hour elapsed before Lenney appeared, attended by Harry Holt and Peter Crawley as his seconds. Aaron five and six to four the favourite.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Both the “little ones” appeared to have too much pride in their composition to throw away any time in stopping, so went to work like blacksmiths, till Lenney found himself hanging on the ropes, where he was milled down. Seven to four on Aaron.

2.—Full of pluck, and both pelting away sans cérémonie. At this instant, the outer ring was broken, and the confusion was so great that the battle was stopped until order was restored. The Jew napped a heavy hit on the head, but in return Lenney was punished down.

3–8.—Lenney was not deficient in pluck or science, but was evidently overmatched. He was severely milled in all these rounds. (“Foul, foul!” frequently occurred, during the time Lenney was balancing on the ropes, but the latter kept fighting all the while he was in such situations.)

9–11.—These were all fighting rounds, but Lenney had so much the worst of it that ten pounds to one were offered on the Jew.

12–18.—Aaron was so full of gaiety that he bored his man down with the utmost ease. Here some words occurred between Belasco and Lenney. The latter kicked Belasco violently on his leg, and also gave him a blow on his mouth, and said loud enough to be heard by the spectators, “I will not fight any more.” Belasco, with much propriety and forbearance, did not meddle with Lenney, which otherwise might have produced a wrangle. Aaron left the ring instantly, thinking he had won the battle. A great disturbance arose, and the umpire considered the battle at an end; but in consequence of Lenney’s asserting “that what he had said was from passion, declaring that he would not fight any more if Belasco remained in the ring, who acted foul towards him,” the umpire consented the battle should go on again. Aaron observed he did not wish to take advantage of a slip of the tongue made by his opponent, and would most readily fight it out. Order being restored, the boxers recommenced.

19.—It was all up with Lenney; after being milled all over the ring, and his face covered with claret, he was ultimately floored. Any odds.

20.—Aaron punished his adversary in all directions; and in closing at the ropes Barney fibbed Lenney till he went down quite exhausted. (“Take him away; he has no chance.”)

21, and last.—Lenney had scarcely put up his hands at the scratch when Barney floored him like a shot. This was a finisher; and Lenney found it was of no use to continue the contest any longer. Making deductions for the loss of time, the battle occupied about twenty minutes.

Remarks.—The remarks we have to make on this fight are short, but we are compelled to be severe. Great praise is due to the Jew for not throwing his “own people” over, and likewise in firmly refusing to sell those who had laid money upon him. Thirty pounds, he asserted, were offered him at Hampton to lose the battle, on the morning of fighting, and his backers were well assured of the fact.

Frank Redmond, a brave little man (see note on Redmond, Life of Evans, ante, page 392) under the patronage of Dick Curtis, was backed against Barney Aaron for £25 a-side. The battle was decided on Moulsey Hurst, on Tuesday, December 30th, 1823.

The amateurs were not so numerous as usual (in consequence of the fight between Abraham Belasco and Neale being postponed till the 7th of January); however, those out-and-outers who never miss anything in the shape of a fight were present. At two o’clock Barney, attended by “one of his own peoplesh” and Maurice Delay, threw his hat into the ring; about five minutes afterwards Redmond, genteelly dressed, arm-in-arm with Curtis and Harry Holt, threw his hat out of the ring. The president of the Daffy Club was the stakeholder; and in order to make “all right,” fresh articles were drawn up at Lawrence’s, the “Red Lion,” at Hampton, to obviate the difficulty of fighting in the same ring with Belasco and Neale, as expressed in the original agreement.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Redmond, a tight, well-made man, weighing ten stone, when stripped and in attitude, looked as if he could “do something,” more especially under the guidance of the Pet of the Fancy and the eloquent and elegant aide-de-camp of the Commissary-General, by which he had the advantage of the combined knowledge of the West and East Ends. He was the favourite, five to four. Mister Barney came out of the scale nine stone twelve pounds, as lively as an eel and as spirited as a young colt; with a face full of confidence, in rare condition, with sparkling ogles (each “worth a Jew’s eye”), and with a firm step, he was eager to commence the attack. Redmond faced him smilingly, fresh as a daisy and gay as a lark. Barney surveyed his opponent from head to foot with coolness, and Redmond likewise took measure of Aaron. At length Mister Barney, by way of the compliments of the season, a kind of late Christmas-box, sent his right fist very near Redmond’s head, but Master Frank declined to accept it, and got away. After a short pause, Barney rushed in, caught hold of Redmond, and began the weaving system with some success. Frank endeavoured to fib too, and in the struggle and hammering both went down, Barney undermost. (“Go it, Redmond, never leave him!”)

2–6.—These rounds were full of fibbing, and no lies. Barney the hero in all of them. In the latter round the claret appeared on Redmond’s nose. (Six to four on the Jew.)

7–10.—Redmond proved himself nothing else but a good little man; but he had little chance as yet to win; that is to say, he had not changed the battle in his favour, and the odds had left him. In the last round Barney planted two good nobbing hits, right and left.

11.—Redmond had a little turn here, and gave Mister Barney two out-and-outers upon his Mosaic index. These made his eloquent second exclaim, in Chesterfieldian style: “Elegant! beautiful! and so handsomely done, too. Those were immense hits, ’pon honour. Be so good as to repeat them, Mr. Redmond. About four more such elegant blows will win you the battle. That circumstance accomplished, I will take you under my wing, among the heavy ones, on Sunday next, in Hyde Park.” (“Yes,” said Barney, “so you shall; but I must dress him well before you take him out, Harry.”) The Jew tried the fibbing system, but ultimately was undermost when down.

12.—This was a sharp round altogether; and the finish of it was, Barney down. (“Reddy, my boy,” said the Pet, “he can’t hurt you now; his hands are gone; and if you are only half as game as your dog, you’ll win it in a canter. Why, it’s Bermondsey tan-pits to a leather apron in your favour!”)

13–17.—Barney had decidedly the best of all these rounds. He fibbed his opponent with the nimbleness of a drummer practising the roll-call. The Jew behaved very manly in the last round; he let Redmond down, holding up both his hands, when he might have dealt out punishment. (“Bravo, Barney!” from Christians and Jews; and lots of applause.)

18.—The fight was now drawing to the finish, from the execution done by the Jew. He put in four desperate jobbers on Redmond’s nob, and sent him down. (Seven to four and two to one.)

19–21.—Redmond’s nose was clareted, and his face and right eye exhibited sharp punishment. Barney had it all his own way, driving his man over the ring till down.

22–24.—Redmond fought like a man, but was getting groggy. Both down. (“Vat a peautiful hitter!” said a Sheeny; “it’s as shafe as the Bank. I shall vin my monish to-day. Look, Israel, look how he nicks him, as the man shaid about the jackdaw. Moses, Levy, Benjamin, Ikey, Sholomons, and David, only look at him—so help me, it’s Dutch Sam come to life again!”)

25.—It was three to one against Redmond. Poor Frank had no chance, and was sent down. (“Take him away.”)

26.—Redmond would not listen to surrender, and endeavoured to fight, till he went down.

27.—Barney did as he liked, till Redmond measured his length on the ground. (“Take him away!” was now vociferated from all parts of the ring.)

28.—Redmond down in no time. (Twenty to one. It was now Fonthill Abbey to a cowshed.)

29, and last.—The game of Redmond was so good that he came staggering to the scratch to have another shy, but was floored in a twinkling. It was over in thirty-two minutes.

Remarks.—Barney did not win without napping it sharply. In the twenty-second round, he exhibited the finishing traits of Randall. Barney, when tired of administering punishment to Redmond with his left hand, changed his adversary in his arms, and fibbed him down with his right. We hope Barney will listen to advice which has been often given to other pugilists who laughed at all cautions in prosperity, but who have had to lament their neglect in the day of trouble. Barney, remember to keep good company, take care of your health, but above all things never show yourself a fighting man, except in the P.R. Let not Mr. Lushington scrape acquaintance with you. Bear the above things in your mind, and if you do not make your fortune by following them you are sure to be respected, and never want a friend.

Mister Barney returned to town in first-rate style, and showed with all the honours of conquest at Howard’s Coffee House, St. James’s Place, Houndsditch. It was crowded to excess, and many West End swells were present. On the Thursday after the fight Frank Redmond, in true English style, offered his hand to Barney as the best man at Howard’s, and they drank to each other’s health, when Barney put his hand into his pocket and presented his brave opponent with a sovereign for “expenses.”

Peter Warren having expressed his anxiety to try his luck with Aaron, a match was made between them for £50 a-side. This trial of skill was decided on Tuesday, April 6th, 1824, at Colnbrook, seventeen miles from London.

The road was rather thin of company; but the Sheenies, who were numerous and full of fun, gave a life to the scene which otherwise it would not have possessed. Barney and his backers got over the ground in gay style, under the patronage of the president of the Daffy Club. An open barouche conveyed the “little Dutch Sam” to the scene of action. When time was called Peter Warren, attended by his backers, showed, and followed by Maurice Delay and Jem Ward as his seconds, in the most polite way introduced his castor within the ropes. Barney in a minute afterwards threw his beaver up, waited upon by Nathan and Aby Belasco. The colours—yellow for Barney and green for Peter—were tied to the stakes. “Let us have a quiet fight,” said Warren to the seconds of Barney. “Certainly,” was the reply. “I shall be as good friends as ever with you, Peter, after the fight is over,” remarked Aaron.

It would be waste of space to report in extenso this and some other battles of the clever light weight, whose claim to a page in the history of pugilism is nevertheless undeniable. The battle was simply a struggle of game, endurance, strength, and obstinacy against skill, straight—and therefore swift—hitting, and a ready recourse to those changes of tactics on the spur of the moment which mark the skilful boxer, and almost reduce such contests to a question of time. On this occasion twenty-three minutes and twenty-nine rounds sufficed to render poor Peter Warren deaf to the call of “time.”

Barney was driven off the ground in style, and arrived at an early hour in London. Warren was brought back to the “Magpies,” at Colnbrook, and put to bed for a few hours. Peter exhibited much punishment about the head. A naval officer, who had lost an arm in the defence of his country, stepped forward, and in the most generous manner ordered a post-chaise at his own expense from Cranford Bridge, in which he had Peter conveyed to his residence in Whitechapel. The gallant tar also visited Warren the next morning and administered a golden solatium to his sores.

A “chant of victory,” indited by “A Singer of Israel,” deserves to be rescued from oblivion:—

BARNEY AARON.

Tune.—Rose of Sharon, Rose of Sharon.

Houndsditch and the Lanes rejoice,

Where the mart for clothes is;

Hebrew science lifts its voice,

Aaron proves a Moses.

Barney Aaron! Barney Aaron!

Through the Sin-a-gog and streets,

Rabbis, with their oily air on,

Shout his name and praise his feats—

Milling—fibbing—

Muzzling—cribbing—

Blood-letting like a doctor’s lance—

Setting teeth chattering,

Christianity shattering,

And, Joshua-like, making the moon-eyes dance.

Cutler Street is like a fair;

Barney Aaron! Barney Aaron!

All the little Jews declare,

Rows his keel like Charon.

Old Mendoza—Young Mendoza—

Both are known and famed in fight;

But Aaron is a priest-like poser,

A sacrificing Israelite.

Science—defiance—

Attitude—latitude—

In the sanctum sanctorum he marks the “points;”

In sackcloth and ashes,

The shewbread he slashes,

And to Pentecost sends their uncircumcised joints.

Shibboleth among the tribes

Is Barney Aaron! Barney Aaron!

Some to bet have taken bribes,

And even’d odds to share on:

Barney fights against “the Cross,”

Like ancient unbelievers;

“Flats” are “naturals” by the loss;

“Sharps” are gainers and receivers:

And sweet Miss Sharon!

And nishe Miss Aaron!

Eat veal so white in the fistic cause,

And with Seager’s Daffy

Their tongues are chaffy,

For Aceldama’s victory brings monish and applause.

Barney, by his conquests, had made way both in the opinions of the Christians and the Jews, and ranked high in the lists of pugilistic fame, as one of the best “light-weights.” Aaron was matched for £100 a-side against Arthur Matthewson, from Birmingham, a boxer of well-earned provincial celebrity, and no little London fame, from his victory over Israel Belasco. Matthewson had never been defeated.[^[56]] The tourney came off on Monday, June 21st, 1824; Aaron being seconded by a well-known Israelitish sporting man, Mr. Nathan, and Aby Belasco, while Matthewson was seconded by the two Harrys, Holt and Harmer, the host of the “Plough,” in Smithfield. Although the battle was waged with varying success until the fifty-sixth round, and ten to one was several times offered on Aaron, in the fifty-seventh and last round a desperate straight hit in the throat floored poor Barney like a shot, and he was picked up deaf to the call of “time,” at the end of one hour and ten minutes from the first round. In a few minutes Aaron recovered, and could hardly be persuaded he had lost the fight. But, “who can control the uncertain chance of war?” beaten he was, but not disgraced. On his arrival in town he addressed a letter to the editor of Life in London, in which, after a quantity of Eganian balderdash, he challenged Arthur Matthewson to meet him “for two hundred sovereigns, to fight on a stage, as I am determined,” he said, “never to subject myself to a repetition of such treatment” (?), &c., &c. A business-sort of P.S. adds, “I shall be happy to meet the friends of Richard Curtis at my benefit on the 6th of July, to make an agreement to fight.”

Nothing came of this at that time, as has been seen already in the Life of Curtis. However, the gallant Dick Hares determined to try the mettle of Barney Aaron; £50 a-side was posted. On Tuesday, March 21st, 1826, No Man’s Land, near St. Albans, was the chosen battleground, whereon the Israelites mustered strongly in favour of the Star of the East. Hares too was not neglected by his patrons. Hares in all his battles had proved himself a brave man, but the youth of Barney made him the favourite at six and seven to four.

It was nearly two o’clock before the men entered the ropes, in consequence of a mistaken “tip” that the battle would take place on Colney Heath, where several persons had assembled to witness the contest. Barney first threw his hat into the ring, followed by the John Bull Fighter and his friend and patron, Mr. Nathan. Hares was seconded by Peter Crawley and Paddington Jones.

The fight was a one-sided affair. Youth, science, activity, were on the side of the Jew, and after forty-three rounds of lively fighting, in which poor Hares was receiver-general, a claim of a “foul blow” was raised on the part of Hares, who was taken from the ring, but the claim disallowed, and the referee accordingly awarded the stakes to Aaron.

A jeu d’esprit which appeared in the Morning Chronicle bears marks of being the production of a scholar. It is in the form of “An Epistle from Mynheer Van Haagen in London to Mynheer Van Kloppen in Amsterdam,” and shall here find a place:—

“London, March 22nd, 1826.

“Dear Cousin,—Agreeably to my promise to write to you whenever I met with anything worth recording, I proceed to give you a description of an English fight, or, as it is here termed, a ‘prize battle,’ I witnessed on Tuesday last; and in order that you may the better understand it, I present you with a few remarks on the system of pugilism as practised here, for which I am indebted to our mutual friend Mr. Boxer. The English are naturally a brave and courageous people, but less sanguinary in its fullest extent than their Continental neighbours; hence nothing is more common than fights between boys of from ten to twelve years of age, and similar exhibitions in the public streets by men of the lower orders. The boy or the man who, from the want of sufficient physical strength, or lacking the appetite for a good beating, is obliged to succumb, soon gets tired of the sport; but he who, possessing a strong, muscular frame, and the courage of a bull-dog, frequently beats his man, becomes vain of his powers, and probably for the want of better or more honourable employment, determines to exhibit himself at a sparring match. Here then we have him in the university pugilistic; and as in a National school boys are taught to mark in sand before they write with a pen, so here the neophytes thump each other with gloves well stuffed before they exercise with their naked fists. It is here where the Fancy (i.e., those who have a gusto for smashed faces and broken ribs) judge of their qualifications, and if found worthy some of the Fancy make a match—that is, subscribe a sum of money for the pugilists to contend for. This, Mr. Boxer assures me, is the origin of most of the pugilistic heroes. Having thus prepared you, I shall briefly state the manner of the last fight. The combatants were a Christian and a Jew—the Jew about twenty-six years of age, and the Christian some ten years older. I shall not here trouble you with the art of betting on fights, but bring you at once to the ring, which is a square space kept clear by stakes and ropes for the combatants to engage in. The men appear stripped to their waists, attended each by seconds or assistants, whose business is to encourage the men, and pick them up when they fall; for here, when a man falls in fighting, his adversary immediately leaves him till he rises and puts himself in an attitude of defence, the time allowed for which is half a minute, at the expiration of which, if the man be not ready, he loses the fight. The Jew from the commencement had the decided advantage; it was also evident he felt confident of success; he hit his man with amazing force, and absolutely spoilt (for the time) every feature of his countenance, while he himself escaped with scarce a mark. My greatest surprise is how it was possible for a man to receive so much beating and still be inclined to renew the combat. Such was, however, the case; and after fighting three-quarters of an hour, a cry was raised of ‘foul,’ meaning that the Jew had struck his man when he was on the ground. The ring was immediately broken into; the combatants moved from the arena, each party claiming the victory; an appeal was, however, made to the judges, who decided the Jew was entitled to the stakes—viz., fifty pounds. Having thus given you a narrative of the fight, I shall, at my earliest leisure, send you my reflections thereon, and whether, in a moral point of view as well as national, these contests ought to be tolerated or suppressed.

“Believe me to be, dear Cousin,

“Sincerely yours,

“JAN VAN HAAGEN.”

A match, at length arranged for £100 a-side, was made between Barney Aaron and Dick Curtis. This scientific battle was decided upon a stage, at Andover, on Tuesday, February 27th, 1827. Curtis was declared the winner in fifty minutes, Barney, by a blow in his throat, being again hit out of “time,” for the details of which we refer our readers to the Memoir of Curtis, ante, p. 492.

The friends of Barney after this defeat rallied round him, and his benefit, at the Coburg Theatre, on Saturday, March 18th, 1827, was a bumper. The set-to between Curtis and Barney was pronounced one of the finest things ever witnessed in the art of self-defence.

Frank Redmond was not satisfied as to his former defeat, and solicited another trial with Barney Aaron. This battle, for £50 a-side, was to have been decided on Tuesday, August 21st, 1827. It however turned out no fight. Chertsey, twenty miles from London, was named as the rallying point. At Moulsey Hurst the “beaks” were in sight, and prudence suggested it would be unwise to form a ring. The ring was made in a field near Fordwater Bridge, about a mile from Chertsey. About half-past twelve o’clock a violent storm of thunder and lightning, accompanied by sheets of water, compelled the people round the ring to seek shelter from the effects of the “pitiless pelting shower.” The storm having abated, and the time of peeling arrived, Barney, followed by Mr. Nathan and Josh Hudson as his seconds, threw his hat into the ring. After waiting about ten minutes, and Mr. Redmond having been called for several times, Barney claimed the blunt, and retired from the ropes. Dick Curtis now came galloping up out of breath, and informed the disappointed assemblage that Redmond had been stopped by an officer with a warrant. The lads who had got over twenty miles of ground, and many of them received a precious wetting into the bargain, felt themselves not a little vexed at such treatment, but there was no help for it. The lads however would not be disappointed.

Redmond’s friends refused to forfeit, on the plea that an officer, by the order of a magistrate, had prevented Redmond meeting Barney Aaron in the ring, which in the absence of evidence of collusion was a valid objection to forfeiture.

The stakes however were given up to Barney Aaron, which so displeased Redmond that he threw up his hat and offered Barney to fight upon the spot.

To put the question of mastery to rest, a third match for £50 a-side was made. This battle was decided on Tuesday, October 23rd, 1827, at No Man’s Land. Redmond entered the ring amidst loud applause. Barney was the favourite, at five to four; but Redmond was considered altogether a better man than at the period mentioned, and several of his friends not only took him for choice, but laid the odds upon him. Barney was attended by Josh Hudson and Nathan, and Redmond by Dick Curtis and Ned Neale.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Both combatants appeared in excellent condition, and determined not to give half a chance away. The attitudes of the men were interesting—the tout ensemble of Redmond capital, and his friends strongly anticipated victory. Redmond tried to draw the Jew to work, but the Star of the East was not to be had. Barney at length perceived an opening, and hit out, but Redmond stopped him cleverly. (“Bravo!”) The Jew went to work in right earnest, and planted some nobbers in excellent style. Redmond with the most determined courage fought his way into a rally; and give and take was the criterion, until they both went down, Barney undermost.

2.—Barney’s frontispiece showed punishment. (“First blood!” exclaimed Jack Randall.) The nob of Redmond looked flushed and peppered. Cautious, but both ready to administer mischief. Redmond with considerable science stopped the efforts of Barney, and also put in a tremendous nozzler. The Jew never flinched, but returned like a good one. Hit for hit for a short period. In struggling at the ropes, Barney endeavoured to fib his adversary. Both down.

3.—A long pause. Dangerous customers to each other, therefore a look-out necessary. (“You hold your arms too low,” said Josh to Barney.) Each made offers in turn, and then retreated. Redmond stopped a rum one in capital style. Barney crept in, as it were, and put in a noser. Barney took the lead, and bored Redmond to the ropes, and tried to fib, until his adversary went down on his knees.

4.—A pause. Barney went to work, but received a precious stopper on his dial. (“That’s the way to do it,” said Neale.) A short rally against the ropes, until both down.

5.—Redmond’s face was red, and he was rather on the piping system. Barney went in on the bustle; but Redmond jobbed and jobbed again with great success. (“Frank will win!” was the cry.) Barney, on his mettle, did not seem “to like it at the price,” and went resolutely in to his work; smashing on both sides, until the combatants were down.

6.—Redmond had now a little the best of it; at all events Jack was as good as his master. Redmond with his left hand planted a bodier. Barney careful; and Redmond put down his hands. (“To set the thing a-going,” said Josh, “I’ll bet £20 to £10.”) The fight had now become extremely interesting—the attitudes of the men pretty, and both confident of success. A long pause, counter-hits. Barney caught hold of Redmond and fibbed him down. Redmond, with great gaiety, jumped up again as if nothing was the matter, receiving great applause from Curtis and his friends.

7.—Two minutes nearly elapsed, and no blow, so great was the caution on both sides. Redmond’s left hand touched the body of Barney, but the latter returned it with interest on the left peeper of Redmond. Frank planted two heavy blows right and left on Barney’s face (immense applause by the boys from Bermondsey), and got away in style. Barney did not like this treatment, and went in to do mischief, but again napped it on the dial. In closing Barney was undermost. This round was decidedly in favour of Redmond, and six to four was betted on his winning.

8.—Frank was a little out of wind by his exertions in the last round. Barney made an excellent stop. Redmond, not to be denied, was as active as a dancing-master, hopping all over the ring, and putting his antagonist a little on the fret, until he planted a severe facer. The Jew rather severely felt for Redmond’s listener in return. Barney kept close to his work, and paid Redmond on his canister as he was going down. (The Sheenies began now to open their chaffing-boxes, and sing out, “Vat a peautiful hitter! Barney’s ash good ash gold!”)

9.—This was a short round, but peppery, both giving and receiving punishment. In struggling both were down.

10.—Frank was the hero of the round. He jobbed his opponent, and got away like a first-rate miller. (“The Jew’s napping it in style,” said the friends of Curtis.) Both went down.

11.—The Jew’s head showed the handiwork of Redmond, but in this round the Star of the East took the lead. Some sharp counter-hitting; Redmond napped it in his ear, and the round was finished by Franky finding himself on the grass.

12.—Good fighting on both sides. Redmond went down to avoid punishment.

13.—The Sheenies were now all alive, and began to sport their blunt. Barney took great liberties with the head of his opponent, and followed Redmond close to the ropes, the latter fighting at points like a clever little fellow, but nevertheless he had the worst of it, until he was thrown.

14.—Barney now showed himself to advantage, as Redmond was a little bit winded. The Jew planted his blows right and left, yet Frank was determined to be with him. At the finish of the round Redmond became weak, and went down.

15.—Cut away, hit for hit, give and take, as fast as any brave fellows could, on both sides. Barney at length got the turn, put in a teaser, and also hit Franky down.

16.—The Jew, gay as a lark, commenced offensive operations, and cut away. Redmond, equally gay, was not behindhand. Barney napped one on his canister, but he still kept to his work, until Redmond got down at the ropes.

17.—Frank endeavoured to get out of mischief, but the Star of the East would not be denied. Fighting like fun, until Redmond was sent on the grass.

18.—This was a fine fighting round; and if Barney showed pluck, the courage displayed by Redmond was equal to his adversary. Counter-hits. In closing Redmond broke away. Milling was soon afterwards resumed, and Frank was hit down.

19.—Barney kept the lead. He planted his blows successfully, and also bored Redmond to the ropes. Here Frank caught it severely, but the Jew did not get off without summat. Redmond down.

20.—Weakness on both sides; in fact, the pepper-box had been handed from one to the other without any mistake. Barney had been considerably punished, and Redmond had taken lots of milling. Barney appeared the stronger man of the two, and Redmond retreated before his opponent to the ropes. In a struggle both were down.

21–37.—Merry milling, with varying success. The hitting in favour of Aaron, the throws occasionally to Redmond, making the superiority doubtful. In the 31st round, and again in the 35th, Aaron fought Redmond down on to his knees. In the 36th Redmond sent down Aaron. In the 37th Redmond, exhausted by his exertions, went down weak.

38.—Aaron was deliberate and cautious, although Frank was evidently on the totter. Redmond was ultimately sent down.

39.—(Frank would not allow his seconds to give in for him. Mr. Nathan crossed the ring to Redmond, as the latter was sitting on Josh Hudson’s knee, and advised Redmond to leave off—a most improper proceeding. Frank rose indignantly to his feet and pushed him aside.) Exchanges, and Redmond down, amid great confusion.

40, 41.—Redmond game, but unable to stop his adversary or return with precision; was down.

42, and last.—Frank would not say “No!” There was a short bustle, and Redmond was pushed rather than hit down. Time, one hour and ten minutes.

Remarks.—This was not only a game, but in several rounds a scientific mill; and in the opinion of most of the admirers of boxing present, Redmond had profited much by his lessons from Curtis. His style of fighting was evidently improved, and for a long time the contest was considered doubtful; indeed, by several persons Redmond was chosen as the conqueror. Barney is a cool and determined boxer; and after Curtis we place him next on the list of light weights. Barney exhibited terrible marks of punishment about his head—much more than when he fought Curtis. Redmond received several heavy body blows, and was carried out of the ring; but Barney did not quit the ropes in a very lively state. Upon the whole, we never witnessed a more manly fight. Aaron’s forbearance when his man was helpless, and Redmond’s game, were alike conspicuous.

Aaron’s next subsequent battles were with Marsh Bateman, for £40, whom he beat on Landsdowne Racecourse, July 4th, 1828, and with Harry Jones, by whom he was beaten, November 21st, 1828, at the “Old Barge House,” Woolwich, in fifteen minutes, eighteen rounds, being much overmatched. He afterwards, May 26th, 1829, beat Jem Raines, at Navestock Green, Essex, in thirteen rounds, occupying twenty-eight minutes. His last battle was with Tom Smith, the East End Sailor Boy, by whom he was defeated, at Greenstreet Green, Kent, April 1st, 1834, in twenty rounds, twenty-six minutes—youth against age, Smith being twenty-seven, Aaron thirty-four.

From this period Aaron retired from the arena, but for many years was an attendant at the ring-side. He followed his trade of an East End dealer in fish, and was a frequent purveyor of edibles to the voyagers down the river on the then frequent pugilistic excursions. Barney died in Whitechapel, in 1850, being up to his last days an authority in all fistic matters among “the peoplesh” of Houndsditch.

HARRY JONES (“THE SAILOR BOY”). 1822–1834.

The claim of Harry Jones to a niche in our gallery of pugilistic celebrities is in a great degree of a negative character, from the eminence of some of the men whom he contended with and did not beat, rather than the number of second-raters whose pretensions he disposed of. Ned Stockman (three times), Young Dutch Sam, Barney Aaron, Frank Redmond, and Perkins (the last three of whom he beat), entitle him to a place; we shall not, however, occupy space by the reports of his minor battles.

Harry Jones was born on the 4th of April, 1804, in Meadow Street, Bristol, a city eminent in fistic annals for the boxers it has given birth to. At an early age Harry chose a sea life, and was apprenticed on board the “Staunton,” East-Indiaman, Captain Harris, with whom he made three voyages. The traditions of his birthplace, and the fame and profit which had been achieved by the Belchers, Pearce, and other champions, were among the Sailor Boy’s early memories, and he determined to try his fortune in the P.R. This was in his eighteenth year, and bidding adieu to the service of the Hon. E. I. C., he made his way to Moulsey Hurst, on the day when Oliver and Abbot settled their differences, November 6th, 1821. Jones had already shown his skill with the gloves at the Fives Court, and when a subscription purse had been made for a second fight, the Sailor Boy threw in his hat, and was opposed by Latham, also known as a sparrer in the schools. Belasco and Tom Jones picked up the Sailor Boy; Dolly Smith and Phil Sampson did the like for Latham. It was an interesting battle for twenty-six rounds, occupying thirty-three minutes, when Latham floored Jones by a hit in the short ribs. Jones tried three more rounds, but he was unable to recover his wind, and gave in.

Undeterred by this stumble on the threshold, the Sailor Boy went in for a purse against Ned Stockman, then called “Bill Eales’s Chicken.” The fight was at Rutledge Common, Edgeware Road, on 29th January, 1822. It was a remarkable battle on the part of Stockman, who, in thirty-eight rounds and forty minutes, compelled the Sailor Boy to haul down his colours.

Harry Jones could not consider that his defeat by Stockman was a real trial of his quality, and, on June 12th, 1822, after Jem Ward had defeated Acton at Moulsey, he entered the ring for a new trial. Peter Crawley and Ned Turner were counsel for Stockman, and Jones’s interests were looked after by Jack O’Donnel and Abbot. After a few minutes’ sparring Jones rushed in and endeavoured to fib his opponent, but in the struggle to obtain the throw Jones sprained his ankle so severely as to be unable to continue the fight.

After these unfortunate ring exhibitions Jones fought several by-battles with commoners. Watts (a butcher) and Riley (a Westminster boxer) were beaten by him, and Peter Brookery, the Fishmonger, beat him in three-quarters of an hour.

In consequence of some chaffing at Tom Cribb’s benefit at the Fives Court, on Tuesday, June 1st, 1824, a match was made between Jones and Brown (the Sprig of Myrtle). A patron of boxing having offered a purse for the winner, Jones proposed, and Brown snapped at the offer, to fight it out that day. Accordingly, with Jack Randall as time-keeper, Dick Acton and Gipsy Cooper as seconds for Harry, and Tom Oliver and Tisdale for the Sprig, the party started for Paddington Fields, where, in nineteen rounds, lasting thirty-three minutes, the Sailor Boy achieved his first ring victory. This raised the reputation of Jones considerably.

About this time an amusing anecdote of Jones appeared in the newspapers. One Jem Aldridge, known as “the fighting typo,” backed himself for £5 against Jones. The Sailor Boy at this time, as “most people fall in love some time or other,” was engaged to a Miss Evans, and not keeping an exact “note of time,” his diary was in such confusion that he had fixed June 28th, 1824, for both matches. Not seeing how he could honourably put off either his bride or his challenger, he met both; and soon after he had sworn eternal fidelity, and the etceteras connected with the ceremony of “taking this woman to be thy wedded wife,” Harry started off to fulfil the other engagement. It is said that so lightly did he value his opponent that he merely consigned the lady to the gent who had given her away, with the remark, “Take care of my wife, like a good fellow, till I come back,” and bolted off to the field of battle, in Copenhagen Fields, near Pentonville. Arriving on the ground somewhat flushed and out of breath, the Sailor Boy shook hands with the typo, and to work they went. In twelve minutes Mr. Aldridge declined any further favours at the hands of Harry, who, pocketing the fiver, returned to the wedding party, and spent the evening in fun and merriment until “the throwing of the stocking, O!”—thus bringing off the “double event.”

Dick Price, a well-known butcher at Oxford, weighing upwards of eleven stone, and five feet eight inches in height, had given so much offence among his brother kill-bulls by his boasting and quarrelsomeness that they determined to give him a turn. A Mr. Parker, of Oxford, brought down Jones in butcher’s garb, and Price insulting him in the market, “Mr. Parker’s plant,” as he was called, proposed a fight. To this Price, with an expression of pity and contempt for the “Lunnon boy,” consented. At six o’clock in the evening of Wednesday, July 28th, 1824, the ring was pitched in Picksey Meadow, near Oxford. The combatants met first in Port Meadow, but an authority of the University city showed his awful phiz, and the crowd was put to the rout. Jones, after “kidding” his man to come in, played his part so well that in the ninth round he had him down to his own weight, and ten to one was offered by the undergrads and others, but no takers. At the end of the fifteenth round poor Price was at no price, when lo! after turning to avoid, he slung himself round again, and with a chance backhander caught Jones such an almighty whack on the left ear that down he went, and was deaf to time! The affair lasted in all twenty-one minutes. Jones felt immensely mortified, and challenged Price to a second meeting, but the latter had discovered his customer, and refused any further dealings. “I insist upon your giving me another chance,” urged the Sailor Boy. “I will,” said Price, “before the beaks;” so he applied to the Bench for a summons for a threatened assault, and the Sailor Boy was held to bail to keep the peace towards the complainant for twelve calendar months. “It’s lucky,” said the Sailor Boy, “that the bond only extends to Dicky Price. I must bid farewell to Oxford and look elsewhere for a job.”

Tom Reidie, so well known as “the Colonel” for many years afterwards, among the frequenters of the Leicester Square and Coventry Street “hells,” as the gaming-houses were then entitled, was hastily matched with Jones. The men met in the fields at the back of the “Red House,” Battersea (now Battersea Park), on the 4th August, 1824. The affair was a tiresome exhibition. Reidie, nimble as a harlequin, retreated, whereon his man advanced, and would not be forced to a rally, getting down so provokingly that Harry was several times well-nigh irritated into a foul blow. The bystanders, too—many of them West End swells—pulled up the stakes, and the ropes were soon missing. Accordingly, as a reporter says, “the men were fighting out of one field into another, and Jones could not get a chance of planting a successful hit.” “Only stand still,” said the Sailor Boy, “and see what will be the matter.” “I’m not such a fool, although I may look one,” replied the Colonel, and then with his thumb to his nose he executed a backward double shuffle, nobbed Harry slightly, and slipped his heels from under his hams, dropping on his South Pole with a grin. After two hours and three-quarters, in which both men were but slightly punished, Reidie’s tactics triumphed, and Jones was so exhausted and baffled that he resigned the contest!

On September 21st, 1824, Jones, for the third time, entered the lists with Ned Stockman, at the “Old May Pole,” Epping Forest, for £25 a-side. After seventeen rounds, twenty-three minutes, Jones was again defeated.

A week only after this defeat, after the bull-baiting on Old Oak Common, on Tuesday, September 28th, 1824, Frederick Edwards, a coachman, of some pretensions to boxing, offered to meet Jones for a purse that had been subscribed. Stockman seconded Jones, Reuben Martin united upon Edwards. Jones’s skill, combined with caution, enabled him to get over the ground in style, and in an hour and a half the coachman gave in, confessing that even a good amateur must knock under to a professional.

Mike Curtain was matched against Jones for a trifling stake, and in October, 1824, Battersea Fields being again the scene of action, Jones defeated him in seventy-five minutes.

After the disappointment with Young Dutch Sam and Lenney, at the “Old Barge House,” March 25th, 1825, Harry Jones fought a horse-keeper, nicknamed Captain Corduroy. The battle, which is fully reported in “Boxiana,” lasted twenty minutes, when the Sailor Boy was hailed as victor.

The following report, from the pen of a distinguished littérateur, then on the staff of the Morning Chronicle, gives a lively picture of an extemporised fight of the period:—

“Old Oak Common, six miles from London, on the Harrow Road, and formerly the scene of many a sturdy battle between men of high pugilistic character, was, on Thursday, September 8th, 1825, honoured by the presence of a select assemblage of the mobocracy, to witness a subscription mill between Harry Jones, the Sailor Boy, and a Westminster champion, well known by the poetical appellation of ‘Tommy O’Lynn,’ but whose name in the parish books stands as Jemmy Wilson. Jemmy, it seems, had long been the drake of the walk in Duck Lane; and in the various rencontres in which he happened to be engaged with the heroic youths of that neighbourhood he invariably came off with éclat. This circumstance rendered him a great favourite among the ‘donkey dragoons,’ of which he is a member; and they determined, when an opportunity offered, to afford him the means of distinguishing himself in a way which might do honour to the school from which he sprang. This opportunity happily occurred at the ‘Coopers’ Arms,’ in Strutton Ground. A large party being assembled over their ‘pots of heavy’ in that place of social resort, some remarks were made on the want of diversion among the operative classes of society, while the nobs were pickling their carcasses on the seashore. Various proposals were made for a day’s fun. Some were for ‘grabbing a bull,’ and taking him out for an airing, a recreation not then obsolete; others were for a dog-fight, and more for a duck-hunt; but to all these there were objections; and Mr. Martin’s Act was mentioned as an ugly bar to such exhilarating amusements. At last a mill was suggested, as more congenial to all their feelings; and the Sailor Boy being present, it was resolved that he and Tommy O’Lynn should have a ‘shy’ for a subscription purse. Both men were agreeable, and Thursday was fixed for the outing. The hat went round at the moment, and about five pounds were collected, which, with what might be contributed on the ground, was considered a tolerably fair prize. At an early hour on Thursday morning the lads were on the move, and the avenues leading to the Harrow Road presented a lively succession of donkey equipages, while the banks of the Paddington Canal, and the fields from the Uxbridge Road, were covered with groups of motley characters, all directing their steps towards the appointed spot. At one o’clock the assemblage was very numerous. Among the throng we noticed many Westminster celebrities, particularly Bill Gibbons and Caleb Baldwin. The former was present merely as an amateur, while the latter, with a jar of ‘blue ruin’ (copiously diluted from the neighbouring canal), endeavoured to enliven the spirits of his patrons, and to furnish the pockets of his own inexpressibles. A long list of the Boxing School was likewise on the ground, Tom Oliver acting as master of the ceremonies, stakeholder, and otherwise dictator of the day.

“The Sailor Boy was early on the ground, having been brought in prime style by Tom Callas and a couple of his friends in a ‘one-horse shay.’ He looked well, and was confident of winning. Tommy O’Lynn was said to be at a public-house on the Harrow Road, under the care of a ‘gemman’ whose delicacy was such that he did not wish his name to be mentioned, and was therefore described as the ‘Great Unknown.’ At two o’clock notice was sent to the ‘Great Unknown’ to bring his man, and in a short time he arrived with his shay-cart, drawn by his celebrated trotter, and was received with as cordial a cheer as if he were Sir Walter Scott or the Right Honourable George Canning, of which honour he seemed deeply sensible, and ‘blushed like a bone-boiler’—which, we believe, is the profession to which he belongs.

“All being in readiness the ring was beaten out and a commodious area formed.” The men soon made their appearance on opposite sides of the ring, throwing in their ‘castors’ with mutual good humour. On stripping, the Sailor Boy was evidently the heavier and stronger of the two, and the odds were announced at seven to four in his favour. Tommy O’Lynn was regularly got up for the occasion. Unlike his great ancestor, Brian O’Lynn, who, as history informs us, ‘had no breeches to wear,’ he advanced in all the pride of a new pair of tape-bound flannel drawers, high-low shoes, and new cotton ‘calf-covers.’ On pulling down his knowledge-box by the forelock of its thatch, he was rapturously welcomed by the cry of ‘Tommy for ever!’ while the ‘Great Unknown’ whispered in his ear the words of the favourite Scotch song—

‘Now’s the time and now’s the hour,

See the front of battle lour.’

Tommy grinned a grin, and prepared for action. He was attended by Charlsy Brennan and Young Gas, while the Sailor Boy claimed the kind offices of Alec Reid, and that bright ornament to gymnastics and lyrics Frosty-faced Fogo.”

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The positions of both men were good. Tommy especially threw himself into a studied attitude. The Sailor Boy tried to bring him out, and made two feints with his right. Tommy was steady, but at last Jones let fly with his right and caught him on the nob. Tommy was awake, and returned on the cheek, when after a short rally they closed, and went down together, Tommy undermost.

2.—Jones, anxious to begin, made a feint, and then hit out with his left, but was well stopped. Jones, still busy, rattled in, and caught Tommy on the ivories; a spirited rally followed, in which Jones caught his man round the neck, and pegged at his belly with great effect. He at last closed and threw him. (“Vait,” cried a costermonger, “only let Tommy give him a touch of his own, and you’ll see!” “Ve’ll vait,” cried another, “but I’m blowed if I don’t think ve’ll vait long enough!”)

3.—Tommy came up active, but received a jobber in the dexter ogle, and in getting away dropped. The Great Unknown began to look serious, and was seen to scratch his block in a most significant manner.

4.—Jones was now perfectly acquainted with his man, and resolved to finish him without delay. He went in boldly with his left, but was stopped by Tommy throwing up his right and pitching back his head. Jones, however, followed him with his right, and hit him severely over his left guard. A desperate rally followed, in which Jones administered severe punishment, and Tommy went down piping and bleeding. It was now a donkey to a tom-tit in Jones’s favour, but nobody would take the odds.

5, and last.—Tommy planted a body blow, but with little force. Jones returned on his smeller, and another desperate rally followed, in which Tommy had it in all directions, and was at last hit down senseless by a straight right-hander, Jones winning without a scratch in six minutes.

Remarks.—Tommy may shine among the street heroes in the back slums, but won’t do in the Ring. He was too light, and not sufficiently fed, for Jones. Gibbons recommended, from his greyhound condition, that he should go into training for what he called a “natommy vivante,” and travel the country as “own brother to the living skeleton.”

Jones, who had been gaining ground in the sparring world, and also in the estimation of his friends, was backed against Young Dutch Sam for £25 a-side. This battle was decided at Shere Mere, on the borders of Bedfordshire, on Tuesday, the 18th of October, 1825. Sam was seconded by Dick and George Curtis, and Jones by Alec Reid and Goodman. Jones was signally defeated in eighteen rounds, occupying fifty-three minutes. See Life of Young Dutch Sam, ante, p. 358.

At No Man’s Land, four miles beyond St. Albans, on Tuesday, March 14th, 1826, after Donovan had defeated Jennings, a subscription purse of five pounds was collected, when a man of the name of Knowlan, known as the Tumbler, entered the ring against Harry Jones. Knowlan, as a specimen of his professional agility, threw two summersaults before he began to peel. The Tumbler had also the advantage of Harry Holt for his second. In the course of fifteen minutes the activity of the Tumbler was reduced to a stand-still, Jones proclaimed the winner, and the five pounds in his pocket.

After Barney Aaron had defeated Dick Hares, at No Man’s Land, on Tuesday, March 21st, 1826, a subscription purse of five pounds was collected for Mike Curtain and Harry Jones; and although only seven days had elapsed since his fight with Knowlan, Harry was determined not to let a chance go by him. Curtain was anxious for another shy with the Sailor Boy, having been defeated by him, after a severe struggle of one hour and three-quarters, as stated in a preceding page. Jones, upon this occasion, was seconded by Fogo, and the battle was considered above mediocrity; but at the expiration of half an hour “the Curtain was let down” a second time, and Jones pronounced the conqueror.

After Young Dutch Sam had defeated Tom Cooper, the Gipsy, at Grays, in Essex, on Tuesday, April 25th, 1826, a subscription purse was collected for a second fight, when Jones and Tom Collins entered the ring. Collins was the man who defeated Barney Aaron when the latter boxer was a novice, and was considered a scientific, sharp boxer. He was soon reduced to a mere nobody in the hands of Harry Jones. In the short space of four rounds, occupying only six minutes, Collins was severely punished and defeated, while Jones left the ground with hardly a scratch.

On Tuesday, September 5th, 1826, after Bishop Sharpe had defeated Alec Reid, at No Man’s Land, in Hertfordshire, to make up a third battle, for a subscription purse, Jones, always ready to earn a pound or two, and Pick, a Bristol lad, equally anxious to obtain a small slice, stood up on the shortest notice. Dick Curtis and Young Dutch Sam seconded Harry Jones, and Bayley and Gipsy Cooper acted as seconds for Pick. Twenty-seven rounds were contested. In every round Jones took the lead, and ultimately he was declared the conqueror. Pick had not the slightest chance, and was severely punished. The Sailor Boy had scarcely a mark upon him. Jones won the battle in thirty minutes.

The Sailor Boy at this period was hardly ever out of “action.” At Fidgett Hall, one mile and a half from Newmarket, after Larkins had defeated Abbot, a second fight took place for a purse of five pounds, between Harry Jones and Reuben Howe, on Tuesday, November 28th, 1826—the former well known in the London circles, the latter a bustling, boasting yokel, weighing a stone and a half more than Jones. Howe was seconded by two of his own pals, and Jones by Oliver and Fogo. Thirty-one rounds were fought in thirty-four minutes, during the whole of which Jones took the lead both in hitting and throwing, and won the fight almost without a scratch. No man could have polished off a customer in a more workman-like manner. The defeat of Howe was much relished by the chawbacons, as he was a complete bully among his companions, and being thus “taken down a peg” probably tended to improve his manners.

After Peter Crawley had defeated Jem Ward, at Royston Heath, Cambridgeshire, on Tuesday, January 2nd, 1827, Harry Jones entered the ring with Gybletts for a subscription purse. In the course of ten minutes Jones was defeated. It was considered no match. The blunt was divided between them. Gipsy Cooper seconded Gybletts, and Ned Stockman and a pupil of Israel Belasco’s attended upon the Sailor Boy.

The second battle between Larkins and Abbot, for fifty pounds a-side, according to the articles, was to have been decided on Tuesday, March 13th, 1827, within sixty miles of London; but as many things happen between the “cup and the lip,” the “authorities” interfered, and Larkins and Abbot slept in whole skins that night. After some little murmurings by the disappointed crowd “that there is no certainty in this here life,” Peter Crawley arrived, and added to their discomfiture by avowing it was the intention of Larkins to forfeit on account of illness.

The little fight, as it was termed, now became the interesting topic of the day; and Jones and Raines started for a new piece of ground, followed by a string of vehicles of every description, hundreds of horsemen, and toddlers out of number. The road had a pleasing appearance, by the bustle, life, and activity, for several miles; the turnpikes napped lots of blunt by the change; and the pot-houses met with a variety of unexpected customers. But the principal part of the toddlers who were compelled to ride Shanks’s mare were beaten to a stand-still long before the grand halt took place at Chesterford. During the rapid motion of the “gay throng” several upsets occurred; but the Fancy were too game to complain of broken panels, or being canted over the necks of their horses, contenting themselves with the old saying that “worse accidents occur at sea.” At Chesterford a parley ensued about making the ring, and “Haydon Grange” was named as a place beyond the possibility of an interruption. But the crowd, who had already been over twenty miles of ground, were too much fatigued to undertake another of ten, and preferred chancing it; accordingly the stakes were knocked into the ground without delay, in the parish of Chesterford. An outer ring was immediately formed by the carriages, and the combatants called for. Raines appeared first, and threw up his nob-cover, waited upon by Stockman and a hackney dragsman nicknamed Whipaway, while Peter Crawley and the Poet Laureate officiated as seconds for the Sailor Boy. This time Fogo did not show himself habited as a collegian, although his toggery bespoke the outline of a “Fellow Commoner” who had not decidedly taken his terms, although he was upon “terms” with the ancient tribe of costermongers. He wore his “beaver up” when he was recognised by the M.A.’s, and received the nod from them as a student of Brasen-nose. The colours were tied to the stakes—the Sailor Boy the favourite.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The Sailor Boy was in prime twig; in fact, he never was, in any of his preceding mills, anything like in such good condition. His arms were peculiarly fine, and attracted the general notice of the spectators. Raines did not appear so muscular a man as his opponent, but nevertheless his frame was manly, and he exhibited great strength. The Sailor Boy was in no hurry to commence the attack, and some minutes elapsed before any attempt at hitting was made. Jones made play, but Raines stopped well. A pause. The Sailor Boy, rather furious, was going to work, but was again well parried by Raines. It was observed by the London amateurs that Raines had evidently improved in his knowledge of the science. In setting-to with the gloves the Sailor Boy had always had the best of it. Several minutes passed, and the stopping system was adopted by Raines, until the Sailor Boy went in, and slashed away like a new one. In closing fibbing was attempted on both sides. Jones broke away cleverly, and milled his opponent down. “First blood!” from the friends of Jones. Raines was piping a little, and the Sailor Boy received shouts of applause from his “larned” friends belonging to the “Univarsity.”

2.—The claret appeared slightly on Jones’s lips when he arrived at the scratch. The Sailor Boy fought well—that is to say, cautiously. Raines he looked upon as an ugly customer, although a tolerably good-looking fellow in person. The latter made several good parries, but did not try to plant any hits. Jones put in a heavy bodier with his left hand. A pause, “Go to work,” was the cry, and “Why don’t you, Mr. Poet Laureate (Fogo), put them together?” Jones planted a facer. (“Bravo!”) Raines made a blow, but the Sailor Boy was on the alert, and nothing was the matter. Exchange of blows passed between them, and the fighting was rather sharp, until they closed. In struggling for the throw Jones got his man down, but Raines threw him over, and the Sailor Boy rolled out of the ring. The Sailor Boy was decidedly the favourite with the Euclids, the Virgils, and the Homers. But the “drag and tumbler” sort of folk rather fancied Raines, and the odds were offered upon him by a few of them.

3.—The lads were just now upon their mettle, and the fight had become interesting to the whole assembly of Greeks, Latins, and yokels; in fact, all classes of society were in high glee. Raines got away from mischief, but not out of trouble. At this instant a gent stepped into the ring and made his way up to Peter, saying: “If you are the director of this sort of thing, I must insist that you desist. It is a breach of the peace!” Peter, mild as a lamb and polite as a Chesterfield, observed, touching his tile to the man in authority, “I hope, sir, you do not mean to stop the sport? You do not intend to be so cruel? But if it is your wish, why, why, ——. The second degree is now made out,” said Peter; “this interruption, after the fight has commenced, is harder than the first baulk! Such an occurrence has not happened for the last twenty years.” A noble lord, upon a fine prad, in the shape of a beak, in an agitated tone of voice, added: “Do not come into Essex; I will not permit it. You will therefore do it at your peril!” In this dilemma the Greeks, the Roman-y’s, the mathematical admirers of the angle hitting of Harry, put forth all their lexicon of gammon to the unrelenting beaks, not to make three or four thousand gentlemen look like fools; but it was all U-P. “The Fancy,” exclaimed the hero of the Brasen-nose, “have now acquired the third degree,” on hearing the member of the Upper House say, “Beware of pitching your tents in Essex.” “It is the hardest thing I ever heard, in my whole history of prose and poetry, not to let the mill be finished anywhere to-day. I shall remember him in my next epic.” Singing psalms to a dead neddy would have been of the same service! The gents belonging to the Bench retired outside of the crowd, and a ring court-martial was held for twelve minutes, upon the propriety of “to mill or not to mill,” when it was unanimously determined “that the fight between Harry Jones and Raines was no go.” Thus, after the “bubble, bubble, toil and trouble,” in the words of Shakespeare, it proved to be “Much Ado about Nothing”—the spectators out of humour and ill-natured, the nags tired, “Home, Sweet Home,” a long way off, and the rain coming down nicely.

The ground was cleared in a few minutes. The stakes were drawn on the part of Raines, but his backer offered to increase the sum to £25 a side, so satisfied was he that Raines would have proved the conqueror.

On Saturday, the 14th of April, 1827, at Bulpham Fenn, Essex, about twenty-two miles from London, in an angle on the right of Brentwood and Romford, Harry Jones and Bob Simmonds, a well-known sporting “clergyman” (anglicè, a sweep), entered a twenty-four foot roped ring at one o’clock. Jones was attended by Peter Crawley and Fogo; Simmonds was seconded by Dav Hudson and Gybletts. Crawley won the toss. On setting-to, Simmonds, with great eagerness, attacked the Sailor Boy, but the steadiness of the latter soon gave him the advantage. Jones, cool and collected, waited for an opening, when he planted a rum one on the right eye of Mr. Simmonds, which not only produced confusion of vision, but floored the man of soot. Simmonds wished to appear cheerful on commencing the second round, but the spectators found out that he was of “no service” against a fine young man like Harry Jones. In the sixth round, the poor fellow received so severe a cross-buttock that he puffed like a pair of asthmatic bellows, after this shaking he fell down almost without a blow in every succeeding round. At the expiration of thirty-five minutes, and seventeen rounds, Simmonds acknowledged he was “up the flue.” Jones, he said, was too good for him, and that he could not get at the Sailor Boy. Jones won the battle without a scratch. Crawley and Fogo were extremely attentive to Harry. It was so hollow a thing on the side of Jones that not a sov. was sported upon the event. Upwards of a thousand persons were present.

In consequence of the interruption of the battle between Raines and Jones, a second match was made for £25 a-side, which was decided on Monday, the 4th of June, 1827. Watford, the rallying point, was gained without meeting with any particular objects worthy of note. At this place the office was given for Chipperfield Common, a distance of twenty-two miles from London; thither the disappointed Fancy repaired, but not without “lots of grumbling” at the long trot. However, the ride was delightful, and upon the whole it was pronounced a pleasant journey, and a tidy day’s sport. At ten minutes to two o’clock the Sailor Boy, habited as one of the true blue fraternity, threw his hat into the ring, accompanied by the Poet Laureate Fogo and Jack Clarke; Raines was not long behind him, attended by his seconds, Ned Stockman and a dragsman of the name of Woolley.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The Sailor Boy could not have been better as to condition, and Raines was also in good trim as to his training. It seemed as if the combatants were aware they had a long day before them, as neither Jones nor Raines were in a hurry to go to work. Ten minutes had elapsed in looking and dodging each other about, when Jones let fly with his left hand, whilst Raines cleverly put on the stopper. The latter boxer never commenced offensive operations, but always waited for the attack. Jones also well knew that great danger was to be apprehended by the countering of Raines, and therefore he was extremely cautious, and thus are we enabled to account for this precious long round. The seconds were at the four corners of the ring like hackney coachmen upon a stand waiting for a fare. Several of the spectators proposed to them to accept a cigar, smoke a pipe, take a hand of cards, &c. At length a slight rally, or rather exchanges, occurred, when stopping, dodging, offering, again took place. Jones let fly, but Raines would not have it at any price. Good stopping on both sides. “Go to work,” from all parts of the ring, had not the slightest effect. The Sailor Boy made a hit with his left hand, which was sharply returned by Raines; a little milling took place, and both of them cried out “First blood,” but it was a dead heat in this respect, a slight tinge of the claret appearing on both of their mugs at the same instant. It would be a waste of time to repeat all the stops, &c. The Sailor Boy at length went in like a jolly fellow, and the fibbing system was resorted to, hard and fast, on both sides, until they both went down, Raines undermost. Forty minutes had now passed in sparring.

2.—This round was altogether as short. Some little stopping occurred, until Jones went in as before, and finished the round by tipping it to Raines and placing him undermost.

3.—Little bumps were observed upon the foreheads of both combatants, but nothing like mischief had passed between them. The ear of Raines had napped a little pepper. The latter endeavoured to put in a right-handed blow, and, if it had told, summat might have been the matter. Raines stopped well; but he did not fight until he was compelled to defend himself. In closing, smart hitting on both sides was administered, and the Sailor Boy was thrown out of the ropes. (“Well done, Jem!” and lots of applause.)

4.—The nose of Raines looked red. For why? Jones’s left had given it a sharp tap; he was also a little on the piping suit. At the ropes Raines was fibbed by his opponent, and ultimately thrown.

5.—This was a tidy round, but the wind of Raines was rather troubled; and both cautious in the extreme. Jones planted cleverly a conker without any return, and repeated the dose. Parrying on both sides, until Raines received a slight hit in the body, when he staggered backwards and fell out of the ropes. (Two to one on Jones.)

6.—The Sailor Boy always commenced milling, although cautious. He gave Raines another nose-ender which sent him rather backwards; Jones then went in, and had the best of it until Raines was thrown.

7.—It was clear to the spectators that Jones was now taking the lead; he cleverly put in a jobber that made the nose of Raines not only swell, but spoilt the shape of it. In closing Raines endeavoured to be busy, but the Sailor Boy was the quicker; Raines received the most punishment, and in going down was undermost. (Jones for a trifle; in fact, the friends of Raines began to perceive something was the matter.)

8.—Raines put in a sharp blow on the ear of Jones. (“Well done, Jem!”) The Sailor Boy, however, returned the favour with interest—he nosed his opponent, ditto and ditto. (Laughing by the crowd, and “It is not fair to hit a man twice in one place.”) Raines in the struggle was again down.

9.—This round was decidedly in favour of Jones. All his blows told. The nose of Raines again caught it, and he was ultimately hit down. (The Jonesites had now booked it that the Sailor Boy could win without a scratch upon his face.)

10.—Not last; but interrupted. Jem made play, and slightly touched the cheek of Jones; but the Sailor Boy returned another noser. They closed, when some blows were exchanged; and the Sailor Boy broke away. A long pause—both on the look-out. Counter-hits. Jones was going to repeat the dose, when a gentleman on horseback rode up to the ropes, followed by a constable with a staff in his hand, and proclaimed, “In the same of the King I command you to desist.” The assemblage immediately bowed submission and the combatants instantly “cut their lucky.” The fight had lasted one hour and a quarter, but the yokels were sadly disappointed, and expressed their anger by loud hisses and groans. The motley group were soon in motion, and in less than ten minutes the ground was summat like the “baseless fabric of a vision;” not a cove was left behind. The nags soon felt the persuaders, and the toddlers, puffing and blowing, were compelled to put their best feet foremost in order to keep up with the drags. Watford was once more the rallying point; and after a few minutes’ conversation as to finishing the thing, a gentleman offered his meadow near Bushey Lodge, within a mile and a half of the town, which was gladly accepted. Here the Commissary-General and his pal knocked up the ring almost before you could say “Jack Robinson,” and at a quarter to six the men were again in attitude.

THE FIGHT (Part II.).

Round 1.—The Sailor Boy looked as fresh as a daisy, while Raines appeared none the better for the delay. He was rather stiff, and his right hand was a little swelled. Raines made some good stops; but Jones now seemed determined to finish the thing well, and went up to his man, fought with Raines, had the best of it, and downed him.

2.—The left eye of Raines had napped pepper in the last round; and Jones lost no time in polishing off his opponent. He closed, and fibbed Raines severely until he got him down; but the Sailor Boy held up his hand to show he would not do anything wrong. (“Bravo!” and Jones three to one.)

3.—Short; but all in favour of Jones. Raines down.

4.—The mug of Raines was covered with claret, and Jones again fibbed him off his pins.

5.—Jem was getting abroad, and he hit at random; however, it was a milling round on both sides, and Jones did not get off without some clumsy thumps. Both down, Raines undermost.

6.—Sharp work at the ropes. The Sailor Boy held his antagonist and tipped it him until he went down.

7.—This round decided the fight. Raines was punished all over the ring until he was down.

8–12.—It was as nice as ninepence to Jones. In the ninth round Raines was done, and time was called three times before he was brought to the scratch, and even then he was quite stupid; he, however, recovered, and fought the remaining rounds—or rather stood up to be punished—until Jones was declared the conqueror in twenty minutes.

Remarks.—Raines never attempted to fight—that is to say, he always waited for the attack. He countered at times well, but showed himself more of a sparrer than a milling cove. The Sailor Boy did everything in his power to win; he fought with capital science, and likewise bravely. By the above battle he has risen in the estimation of his friends. Jones will not stand still for backers; and no doubt the Sailor Boy will soon throw up his hat again in the P.R.

After Reuben Martin had defeated “the Gas,” on Tuesday, October 16th, 1827, at Westbourn Common, Sussex, Harry Jones and Ike Dodd entered the ring. To detail the rounds of this fight would be not only a waste of time but of paper. Dodd stood like a chopping-block, and was completely at the service of the Sailor Boy during thirty-four minutes and eighteen rounds. Jones took the lead, kept it, and finished off Dodd with the utmost ease. He won the battle without a scratch upon his face; while, on the contrary, the mug of Dodd exhibited divers blows in sundry places. Jones was seconded by Curtis and Stockman, and Ike Dodd by Joe Fishwick and Lewellin. The above battle was for only £10 a-side and a trifling subscription purse.

After considerable chaffing, letter-writing, and even blows upon the subject, a match for £25 a-side was made with Bill Savage and Harry Jones. The latter went into training at Shirley’s, New Inn, Staines, and conducted himself like a man desirous to do credit to himself, and likewise to satisfy his backers. This match was decided on Tuesday, March 20th, 1828, in the same field, near Chertsey, in which Barney Aaron and Redmond were to have fought. A few minutes before one o’clock Jones entered the ring, attended by Young Sam and Ned Stockman. Some trifling delay occurred before Savage put in an appearance, during which time Dick Curtis, owing to some misunderstanding with the backer of Jones, turned round and took five to four for a good stake. This circumstance rather alarmed the betting men, it being previously understood that Curtis was to have acted as second to Jones. Savage threw his castor into the ropes, and Curtis and Alec Reid entered as his seconds.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Jones was in tip-top condition, and armed at all points for his antagonist. The appearance of Savage did not indicate so much muscle and strength; nevertheless, he was considered up to the mark. He had also the advantage of a stone in weight and two inches in height. Some little time occurred in sparring, when Jones endeavoured to plant a facer with his left hand, but Savage stopped it skilfully, and got away. The latter retreated to a corner of the ring, and hit out; but it was “no go,” Harry being too cunning. The science on both sides was admired, and the parries were excellent. Jones, eager to go to work, touched Mr. Savage’s os frontis rather “nasty,” when a close took place, and both combatants endeavoured to serve it out, until both were down.

2.—The Sailor Boy was too fast for Savage; the latter retreated, but napped two nobbers. In closing, Savage was bored to the ropes, and Jones tried on the fibbing system with success, until both went down.

3.—The Sailor Boy made good use of his science, but Savage stopped several hits like a pugilist. Jones went in, pelting away, and caught hold of Savage by the neck with one hand, and made some blows tell with the other. Savage was not idle in returning upon the body of Jones. Savage was thrown, and “First blood” called out by Young Sam, which was discovered upon the lip of Savage.

4.—Jones seemed quite confident that he had nothing to fear from his opponent, and commenced milling without delay, but Savage made several good parries. The Sailor Boy slipped down, but jumped up with so much gaiety as to floor his opponent, (“Harry, go it; that’s the time of day—it is winning, and nothing else.”)

5.—Jones, without ceremony, planted two nobbers; he also caught hold of his adversary and gave him a severe cross-buttock, shaking Savage, his nob coming on the grass and his pins in the air. (“There’s a burster!” said the Lively Kid; and the friends of Jones were loud in their marks of approbation. Seven to four.)

6.—Savage showed game to the backbone, and rallying was the result; in closing, both were down.

7.—Jones’s left hand was exceedingly troublesome, but Savage several times made skilful stops. In fact, this was a well-fought round on both sides, until the combatants were upon the ground.

8–10.—The gameness of Savage was the admiration of the ring in all these rounds; and he also satisfied the spectators that he was not deficient in science. Savage’s left eye was in mourning and otherwise damaged, and his face exhibited severe marks of punishment. Jones took the lead, kept it like a master, and finished all the rounds in his favour. The mug of the Sailor Boy was as clear from blows as when he commenced the battle. (Two to one and higher odds on Jones.)

11–13.—All these rounds were decidedly in favour of Jones; and the latter showed himself also the best man in obtaining the falls. Savage was floored by a tremendous hit on his left peeper; and his pimple shook again from the violent effects of the blow.

14.—Savage was under good instruction, having the Pet of the Fancy at his elbow, and Bill endeavoured to profit by his advice; nevertheless, the Sailor Boy could not be reduced, and he, in general, finished the round in his favour.

15.—Counter-hits, but Savage had the worst of the punishment. (“Long bowls,” said Curtis to Savage, “will not answer; you must yard-arm it with your adversary.”) Savage endeavoured to do as Curtis wished him, and he resolutely went in to work; the Sailor Boy hit him right away, enough to floor an ox, but the Welshman was too game to go down. Savage continued the round in the highest style of courage, until he was thrown cleverly. (“Any odds,” and “Jones, it is all your own.”)

Any further detail of the rounds would be useless; enough has been stated to show that the Sailor Boy was completely the hero of the tale, and reduced conquest almost to a certainty. Jones had never lost the lead for a moment, but he now took it most decidedly. If Savage stood out he was jobbed—if he went in he was weaved and thrown. The fine fighting of Jones was the admiration of the whole ring, and the delight of all who had not risked their money against him. But Savage fully supported his character as one of the gamest of the game; though he had not the slightest chance of winning he refused to give in, and continued to obey the call of time, in spite of reiterated cries of “Take him away!” In the twenty-first round Harry planted a left-hander on Bill’s nose, and also threw him heavily. In the thirty-second round Savage fought with amazing spirit, and put in two or three good right-handed bodiers, but Jones finished the round by giving him a tremendous cross-buttock. In the thirty-fifth round Harry was winded and was troubled with sickness, no uncommon occurrence with him in a long fight. Savage, cheered on by Curtis, endeavoured to take advantage of this circumstance and some little alarm was in fact felt by those who were not well acquainted with Harry; but the efforts of Savage were entirely vain. Sick as he was, Harry had the best of the round, and in the half-minute’s respite that followed Jones brought up the troublesome matter, and was soon “all right” again. In the forty-ninth round Jones threw Savage and fell on him, but under the able management of his seconds he recovered sufficiently to obey the call of “Time.” It was clear, however, that Savage could not see his man. Ned Savage entered the ring in the fifty-fourth round and threw up his hat, declaring that his brother should fight no more. Harry capered about the ring for victory, but to the surprise of all present Bill declared he would not give in. He fought or rather groped his way through a couple more rounds, when his seconds, seeing that he had not the “shadow of a shade” of chance took him away, and Harry Jones was declared the victor, after a most gallant fight of fifty-six rounds, in one hour and thirty-five minutes.

Remarks.—Savage showed himself as brave a man as ever pulled off a shirt, and as being able to stop with considerable skill. His blows did not tell in out-fighting, his distances were incorrect, and when he closed he could not punish. He had hitherto been considered a good wrestler, but Harry almost always threw him. Indeed, poor Bill received more than twenty, perhaps we might say thirty, cross-buttocks, each of which was terribly effective. Harry Jones showed tactics of the very highest order. It is difficult to say which we had most occasion to admire—his out-fighting or in-fighting. He was evidently notwithstanding the disparity in size, much stronger than Savage, and, in fact, so fine was his science that he quitted the ring with hardly a mark on his face, and returned to Staines to dine so little “the worse for wear” that a stranger could not have discovered from his appearance that he had been fighting. His brave but unfortunate antagonist, on the contrary, was borne off the ground to the “Cricketers” public-house, where he was put to bed. The fight would have been brought to a conclusion much sooner had not Jones, in the early part of the action, sprained his left arm in one of the falls. The injury prevented the use of his left hand throughout the rest of the fight. Not the slightest dispute took place during the whole of the fight. Jones was often deservedly applauded for his forbearance in releasing Savage when he was entirely at his mercy, and, upon the whole, it was as fair, clever, and manly a battle as the best well-wishers to honest pugilism would desire to witness.

Jones had now given undeniable proofs of more than ordinary boxing qualifications. In fact by many fanciers he was declared to be the best ten stone man on the list. Ned Stockman, however, “the Lively Kid,” at that time a first favourite in sporting circles, strenuously denied this at all times and places, pointing to his early defeats of Harry, twice for purses (of course impromptu affairs), and later for £25 in the regular P.R., at Epping, in 1824. Mr. Stockman, however, had forgotten that Harry had been improving in bone and stamina (he was only twenty-one), while “the Lively Kid” had been “going the pace” in very fast company. Ned soon got on a match for £25 a-side, and, all going smoothly, articles were signed, and he met Harry Jones at Shere Mere, on the 16th September, 1828. A clever fight on the part of Stockman, not without occasional game rallies, almost uniformly to the advantage of the Sailor Boy, in the forty-third round ended in Stockman’s defeat, his chances being quite out some time before the finale.

Barney Aaron, whose victorious career we have just given, was the Sailor Boy’s next opponent. In weight the men were about equal, but the fame of the “Star of the East” shone so brightly that the £100 staked were already “as good as won,” and so discounted by the denizens of Duke’s Place. But the soundness of Mark Twain’s advice, “never to prophesy unless you know,” received here another illustration. On the 11th of November, 1828, at the Barge House, Woolwich Marshes, the renowned Barney struck his colours to the gallant Sailor Boy, after eighteen sharp fighting rounds, lasting fifteen minutes only.

Tom Reidie, “the Colonel,” conceiting himself upon his shifty performance among the cabbages at Battersea, already noticed, having spoken disparagingly of Harry’s victory as “a fluke,” followed it up by expressing a wish that “somebody” would back him for “half a hundred,” and let him “stand in a tenner of his own.” A patron of the “silver” or “copper hell,” whereof the Colonel was for the time being “groom-porter,” volunteered “the needful,” and, in the short period of seven weeks from his victory over Aaron, the Sailor Boy was face to face with Reidie at Hurley Bottom, Berks, on the 30th of December, 1828, for £15 a-side. This time the Colonel’s “strategic movements to the rear” entirely failed him. The stakes and ropes enclosed him in the limits of twenty-four feet, and in less than that number of minutes (the fight lasted twenty-two, minutes) down went Tom Reidie for the last time, at the close of the sixteenth round, perfectly satisfied that he had quite another “boy” to deal with than the lad he had tired out in Battersea Fields.

Frank Redmond, whose game battles with Barney Aaron we have already chronicled in these pages, proposed to try conclusions with the Sailor Boy for a stake of £100 a-side, which Jones had now little difficulty in getting together. It was a game and, for a few rounds, a tremendous struggle, but Harry had “a little more left in him” in the last three rounds (there were only ten in all), and in thirty-six minutes he was hailed the victor of a well-fought field.

We should unduly extend the bulk of our volumes did we attempt to give the detailed rounds of all the fights of the minor celebrities to whom we have given niches in our gallery of pugilistic pen-portraits. We shall therefore summarise Harry’s other battles by merely enumerating them.

On the 19th May, 1829, at Harpenden Common, he fought and beat George Watson for a stake of £50 a-side. Time, thirty-nine minutes; rounds, thirty.

June 7th, 1831, beat Dick Hill (the Nottingham Champion), for £100 a-side, at Bagthorpe Common, Notts, in sixty-nine rounds, eighty minutes.

Harry next met “the Oxford Pet,” Perkins, whose victory over Dick Curtis had placed him on a pinnacle above his real merits as a boxer. On January 17th, 1832, Harry Jones disposed of “the Pet’s” lofty pretensions in twenty-two rounds, occupying forty-six minutes only. The battle was fought at Hurley Bottom.

On April 2nd, 1833, Jones, who had just recovered from a long illness, fought Gipsy Jack Cooper for £25 a-side, at Chertsey. It was a long and tedious battle, with heavy punishment on both sides, for two hours and ten minutes, twenty-six long rounds, when Jones was hailed as conqueror.

For some time Harry, who was suffering from a chronic disease of the lungs, caused by exposure, earned money by sitting at Somerset House as an artists’ model; and we can well say a finer bust and arms for an athlete, or an exemplar of muscular development and symmetry, could rarely be met with. As poor Harry, too, was a civil-spoken and good-looking fellow, he had a numerous clientèle.

Another “Sailor Boy,” with the prefix of the words “The East End,” hight Tom Smith, was now in the field. He was ten stone four pounds; and having disposed of the nine stone lad, Owen Swift, and also Jack Adams and Aaron, he challenged Harry. The match was made for £50 a-side, and the two “Sailor Boys” met at Shrubs Hill, Bucks, on the 17th June, 1834. Harry was no longer the “Gay Sailor Boy.” His heart was sound, but his breathing apparatus was rapidly going out of repair, and in five rounds, occupying only fourteen minutes, down went poor Harry for the last time, and his colours and the £50 were the prize of “the East End Sailor Boy.”

Soon afterwards Jones became an inmate of the Westminster Hospital, where he died on the 14th April, 1835, at the early age of twenty-eight years.

JACK PERKINS (“THE OXFORD PET”). 1827–1830.

Among the ten stone boxers who ran a bright but brief career we note Jack Perkins, “the Oxford Pet,” renowned chiefly for his victory over the theretofore unconquered Dick Curtis.

Perkins’s first recorded battle, at the age of nineteen, with Bailey Wakelin, an Oxonian pugilist nearly a stone his superior in weight, spread his fame among the “gownsmen.” The affair came off at Radley Common, on the 30th January, 1827, for £25 a-side, “the Pet” polishing off his opponent in twenty-three active rounds, occupying thirty-two minutes only.

His next appearance in buff was with Godfrey, an Oxford waterman, at Henson, near the University City, on the 3rd of July, 1827. In the seventh round, after twenty-eight minutes’ fighting, the referee awarded the fight to Godfrey (against whom two and three to one was current), on the ground that Perkins had got down without a blow. Godfrey refused a second trial.

Perkins’s next match was with a well-known London man, Jem Raines.[^[57]] The battle was for £25 a-side, and came off at Penton Hook, near Staines, on the 21st August, 1828. The Londoner’s skill was completely outshone by the provincial professor, who out-fought and in-fought, rallied, and sent down poor Jem for about a dozen of the twenty-five rounds which comprised the battle, lasting forty-four minutes.

Perkins was now voted a don in the “University of Fives,” and was soon matched by some of his “undergrad” admirers with Dick Price, of whose qualifications a slight instance is given in the sketch of Harry Jones, in a previous page of this Appendix. Perkins’s fight with Dick Price, at Wantage, Berks, on October 15th, 1828, in which Price had for seconds Peter Crawley and Dick Curtis, from London, was a one-sided affair, the Oxford Pet knocking down the eleven stone butcher in the second and third rounds, and administering punishment ad lib. until the sixteenth and last, when the fight was over. Time sixty-two minutes.

On this occasion some chaffing between Curtis and Perkins produced all ill feeling, and in the very next issue of Bell’s Life we find “a friend from Oxford” was commissioned to stake for a match with Curtis for £100 a side, and articles were signed for a meeting between the two “Pets.” Curtis forfeited on the second deposit, being matched to fight Edwards for £200 a-side in the ensuing February. This match also ending this time in a forfeit to Curtis, the affair with Perkins was resumed. We may here note that Curtis was at this period suffering from an attack of rheumatic gout, and that he stated this fact in reply to a challenge of one Joseph Hudson Gardener to fight for £300, in April, 1829. A “short-notice” battle was eventually agreed upon for £100 a-side, and the day fixed for the 30th December, 1828.

In London and its vicinity, Curtis, who had pursued a long career of glory, and who, in all his battles, had never been beaten, was considered almost invincible; and few, in the first instance, were disposed to lay against him, although seven to four and two to one were repeatedly offered. As the time of fighting approached, however, more minute inquiries were made respecting the merits of his opponent, and those who had had opportunities of judging described him as a customer of no ordinary stamp. He had been, like Dick, successful in all his contests, and was described by those who knew him best as a scientific pugilist—active on his legs, a straight and severe hitter with his left, a good getter away, and distinguished for sound bottom. Independent of this, it was known that he was at least a stone heavier than Curtis, weighing when stripped ten stone four pounds, while Dick was booked at nine stone at most. He was also five years younger than Curtis, being scarcely twenty, while Dick was twenty-five; and those who knew the habits of the latter were perfectly aware that they were not such—since he had been in the habit of “seeing the gas turned off”—as to improve his stamina or increase his muscular powers.

Both men went immediately into active training—Curtis to Hartley Row, and Perkins, first in Oxfordshire, and latterly to Mr. Shirley’s, the New Inn, at Staines, whose system of training and unremitting care of the men entrusted to his charge placed him deservedly high in the estimation of the best judges. It was observed that both men were uncommonly attentive to their exercise, and both were acknowledged to be in excellent condition. These were points to which particular attention was paid as the period of the last deposit approached, and the friends of Perkins exhibited an increasing confidence, many boldly asserting that Curtis would find himself mistaken in his estimate of the talent of his opponent, and others boldly asserting that they thought he was overmatched—a stone being far too much for any man to give away, where it was accompanied by a corresponding proportion of science and game. Still, such was the deep-rooted prejudice in favour of Curtis, and such the confidence in his generalship and cutting severity of punishment, that the great majority of the Metropolitans considered it next to treason to harbour a thought of his defeat. There were those, however, who were not quite so bigoted in their opinions, and who, viewing the merits of the men dispassionately, were disposed to think that Curtis, as well as many of his gallant contemporaries, might find an equal, if not a superior, in the art which he professed. Among this class were found ready takers of the long odds of two to one, and subsequently of seven to four—but on the night of the last deposits the odds were taken to a large amount at six to four.

On the Monday evening the road to Maidenhead, which was appointed headquarters, was crowded with vehicles of all descriptions, and every house which would receive such visitors was crowded to excess. Curtis and his backers cast anchor at the “Sun,” and Perkins, under the auspices of the Oxford Dragsman, brought to at the “Dumb Bell,” on the London side of Maidenhead Bridge. Curtis was accompanied by Tom Reidie, who had trained with him, and Perkins by Harry Jones.

Tuesday morning produced a numerous accession to the multitude, and countless vehicles continued to pour in as the day advanced, embracing some of the most distinguished patrons of the Ring, and giving ample occupation to the postmasters.

At an early hour Tom Oliver and his assistant, Frosty-faced Fogo, proceeded to form the milling arena in the Parish Meadow, at Hurley Bottom, Berks, thirty-four miles from London, and close to the banks of the Thames—in summer no doubt a very desirable spot, but in the winter season, from the marshy state of the soil, anything but eligible, especially for those who had to travel in heavy vehicles. Several of these stuck fast in the yielding soil, and the casualties which followed were of the most ludicrous description—many of the inmates, who till then had escaped the miseries of damp feet, being obliged to alight, and, ankle deep in mud, to scramble to that portion of the turf which was still capable of bearing their weight. Having encountered these dangers “by flood and field,” they reached the ring, which was admirably constructed, and surrounded by an ample supply of wagons, flanked by an immense number of carriages of every denomination. As a proof of the interest excited we may state that the crowd assembled was estimated at more than 5,000 persons.

At one o’clock the men had arrived on the ground, sporting their respective colours—Curtis a bright orange, Perkins a crimson. The bustle of preparation was soon visible. The whips were distributed to the men appointed by the Fair Play Club, and the stragglers were driven back to the outer ring of rope which had been constructed near to the wagons. Shortly after Dick Curtis approached the scene of action, accompanied by Josh Hudson and Young Dutch Sam, and was soon followed by Perkins, under the guidance of Tom Spring and Harry Holt. On meeting within the ring they shook hands, and immediately commenced stripping. Both looked well in health; but it was impossible not to observe that there was a rustic hardiness in the appearance of Perkins, very different from that of Curtis, who, nevertheless, had that sleekness and delicacy in his aspect which one is apt to ascribe to superior breed or higher blood. On stripping this contrast was still more apparent; for while Curtis showed that beautiful symmetry of person for which he was so distinguished, and which would have formed a perfect model for the sculptor, Perkins was rough, square, and muscular in appearance. His head, too, being stripped in patches of its hair, from the effect of ringworm in early life, gave him rather the cut of a ragged colt just caught upon the mountain wilds than the well-groomed nag coming from the stud of an indulgent master. Overcoming first impression, however, on seeing both men stripped, it was impossible not to discover at a glance the great disparity in point of size between the men. Perkins appeared to us to be at least two inches taller than Curtis, and every way larger in proportion. He was well pinned, with substantial thighs, and his shoulders and arms showed powerful muscle, though his loins were thin. His phiz, too, exhibited various scars, which were convincing proofs that he had been engaged in encounters of no trifling character. He evinced a great coolness in his manner, and, as throughout his training, booked victory as certain. Curtis looked to us light, but, nevertheless, in high favour with himself. Many old followers of the stakes did not hesitate on seeing the men for the first time stripped in fair comparison to exclaim, “Dick is overmatched,” an opinion which had often been expressed before, but met with little attention. Everything being in readiness the men were conducted to the scratch and commenced.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The positions of both men were good. Curtis, his head a little advanced, his arms well up, and his eye measuring his man with the piercing look of the eagle. Perkins, his head rather on one side, and thrown a little back, his right hand well up, to stop Dick’s left, and his left ready for a fling. Each manœuvred and changed ground. Dick made several feints with his left, but Perkins was not to be drawn from his caution. (“He’s not to be kidded!” cried one of the Oxonians.) Dick crept in, tried to draw his man once or twice, but it would not do. Perkins stood well to his guard. Five minutes were occupied in this way, and not a blow struck; at last Dick plunged in with his left, which was stopped, but he delivered with his right. Good counter-hits were exchanged in a rally, Dick catching the left between his eyes, which made them twinkle, and the right on the tip of his conk. Perkins instantly stepped back and exclaimed. “First blood!” at the same time pointing to Dick’s nose, and sure enough the purple fluid came gurgling forth. Dick, undismayed, bustled up to his man, and caught him heavily on the mouth with his left. Perkins got well away, but no time was lost in again getting to a rally; Dick would not be denied, and got close to his man. Perkins again put in a left-handed facer, but had a tremendous hit in return from Dick’s right, which cut him over the corner of the left eye, and drew a copious stream of blood. Both again drew back, but Dick suffered no time to elapse, rushed in to deliver, and after two or three exchanges Perkins went down from a slight hit. The round lasted seven minutes, and the fighting on both sides was excellent, and acknowledged by the most sceptical to be better than was expected on the part of the Oxford Pet.

2.—Dick again came up in beautiful position, while Perkins seemed perfectly at home, and nowise dismayed by Dick’s “ocular demonstration.” Perkins waited; and Dick, after two or three feints with his left, made a good hit with his right, but was well countered by Perkins. A sharp and active rally followed, in which Perkins caught it on the nozzle, and was on a par with his opponent, for he too showed abundance of claret. In the end Perkins was down, though not a decided knock-down blow.

3.—Perkins came up fresh as a kitten, while Dick looked deeply intent on his work. Dick hit out with his left, but was cleverly stopped. Perkins made a similar effort, but was likewise stopped. Dick then rushed in to hit, while Perkins retreated and fell back at the ropes, half out of the ring. (Shouts for Dick.)

4.—Dick’s face was now a good deal flushed, and the first hit between the ogles began to show its effects, as his right eye became discoloured. Dick, after a leary feint, rushed in to hit with his left; but Perkins, with great steadiness, parried the compliment, and smiled. Dick finding he could not plant his favourite nobbers, now tried the body, and popped in two or three pretty hits in the bread-basket with his left. Perkins was not idle, and caught him on the side of the head with his right. Both were again cautious, and Perkins covered his upper works in good style; he was always ready to counter with his left as he stopped with his right. Dick saw this, and repeated his body blows, leaving pretty obvious marks from his knuckles; Perkins did not return. Good counter-hits at the nob right and left, and both away. Again to manœuvring, when Dick’s body hit was stopped; he then rushed in and hit Perkins open-handed with his left. Perkins returned with his left, catching him on the mouth, and a few slight exchanges followed. Dick again had him in the body with his left. After a short pause a fine slashing rally followed, and some jobbing hits were delivered on both sides, but little advantage was observable. The punishment received by Dick, however, was more obvious; in the end Perkins fell. This was a fine manly round, and excited general applause; and from Dick’s steadiness, his friends’ confidence increased.

5.—The symmetry of Dick’s more delicate physog. was a good deal altered, while Perkins’s only showed the cut over his right eye, and still preserved his coolness and self-possession. Dick again planted his left-handed body hit, but was idle with his right; in fact, Perkins was so well guarded as to bid defiance to his usual sharp and cutting jobs. A short rally, in which hits were exchanged, and both went down easy, Perkins under.

6.—Dick tried to plant his left on Perkins’s nob, but he got well away, and succeeded in stopping a second attempt at his body. Perkins made two excellent stops right and left at his head, but napped it in the ribs; this did not seem to affect him, and he preserved his steadiness in a manner little expected from a yokel. Good stops on both sides, and an admirable display of science; Perkins stopped right and left, but his returns passed beside Dick’s head, and were rather at random; hits were interchanged, though not of great moment, and in the close Perkins went down.

7.—Dick fought a little open-mouthed, and seemed somewhat crabbed at not being able to reach his man. He took a drop of brandy-and-water and again went to action. Perkins still steady and collected, and evidently as strong as a horse. Dick resumed his feinting system, and caught Perkins cleverly with his left, while he delivered his right heavily on his collar-bone. Had this reached his canister, as was no doubt intended, it would have told tales, but Perkins’s activity on his legs enabled him to step back in time. Dick put in three body blows in succession with his left, but they did not seem to tell on the iron carcass of Perkins. Dick then rushed in to punish, but Perkins, in retreating, fell, and pulled him upon him. (Dick’s friends were still satisfied all was right, and booked winning as certain. But little betting took place, so intense was the interest excited by every move.)

8.—Dick tried his left-handed job, but was stopped, and with equal neatness stopped the counter from Perkins’s left. In a second effort Perkins was more successful, and put in his left cleverly on Dick’s nob, while Dick countered at his body. Perkins again stopped Dick’s left-handed job, and showed great quickness in getting away. A fine spirited rally followed, in which mutual exchanges took place, and the blood flowed from the smellers of both. It was a fine, manly display on both sides, but in the end Perkins hit Dick clean off his legs with his right, catching him heavily on the side of the head. (Immense cheers from the Oxonians, and the Londoners looking blue.)

9.—Dick, a little abroad, popped in his left on Perkins’s body, and then rushed in to fight. Perkins retreated, and got into the corner of the ring, when a desperate rally followed; Perkins jobbed Dick several times right and left, catching him heavily under the ear with his right, thus showing he could use both hands with equal effect. Dick fought with him, but the length of Perkins seemed too great to enable him to hit with effect. Finding himself foiled at this game, he closed, and catching Perkins’s nob under his arm, was about to fib; but Perkins slipped down, by the advice of Spring, and evaded the punishment he would otherwise have received. Dick, on getting to his second’s knee, was covered with blood, and looked all abroad; the right-handed hit under his lug in the last round was evidently a stinger.

10.—Both came up collected, but Dick did not seem disposed to lose much time in reflection; he hit with his left, but had it in return from Perkins on the nob. A lively rally followed, in which both got pepper; Dick rushed in hastily, and Perkins fell, Dick on him.

11, and last.—Dick now came up evidently resolved to make a desperate effort to put aside the coolness of Perkins, but he found his man ready at all points; good counter-hits were exchanged, and both fought with fury; Perkins threw in a heavy hit with his left on Dick’s nob, and then on his body with his right; Dick fought with him boldly, but had no advantage, when Perkins again caught him heavily under the ear with his right, and he fell “all of a heap.” He was immediately picked up, and his seconds tried every expedient to bring him to his senses, but he was completely stupefied, and on time being called was incapable of standing. The hat was immediately thrown up, announcing victory, and Perkins ran out of the ring as strong as ever. He was, however, sent back till the battle was pronounced won or lost. The decision was given in favour of Perkins, and in a short time Dick was conveyed to his carriage, and from the ground to Maidenhead. The fight lasted twenty-three minutes and a half.

Remarks.-At the conclusion of the fight, which was certainly more quickly ended than we anticipated, most of the persons close to the ring seemed to be satisfied that Curtis had been out-fought, and that, in fact, he had been, as was observed in the first instance, overmatched. The losers, however, soon began to state a different impression, and certain shrugs and twists gave indication of a feeling that all was not right “in the state of Denmark.” It is certain that Dick did not do as much with Perkins as we have seen him do with other men; but then it must be considered that we never saw him opposed to so good a man as Perkins was on this day. In addition to his superior weight and physique, the Oxford man from first to last preserved a coolness and steadiness, and covered his points with a scientific precision, which few men of his age and experience have displayed in the Ring. This was admitted even by those who had most reason to lament his success. In our opinion Dick fought too quickly, and lost that presence of mind which with such an opponent was his only chance of success. From the undiminished strength which Perkins showed at the last, too, we are satisfied he could have continued the fight much longer. We agree with Sam (who seconded Curtis) that he was more of a match for him than for the Pet. It cannot be forgotten that from the first moment the match was made we expressed our fears that Dick was giving away too much weight, and the result has confirmed our judgment.

In a very few minutes after the fight Perkins entered the ring dressed, and little the worse for his engagement, beyond the cut over his left eye and a little puffiness in the mouth and nose; he must, however, have felt for some time the effects of his body blows, which were both heavy and numerous. He expressed a strong desire to second Harry Jones in his fight with Reidie, but this his friends would not permit.

A challenge from Bob Coates procured for that boxer a thrashing in twenty-five rounds, occupying twenty-eight minutes, near Chipping Norton, on the 19th of March, 1830.

The defeat of Curtis, as we have already noted in our Memoirs of Alec Reid and Harry Jones, rankled in the memory of the London Ring, and consequently a more equal opponent for the fresh and hardy provincial was looked out in the person of Alec Reid, “the Chelsea Snob,” the full details of which may be read in the tenth chapter of this volume, pp. [423]–426.

This first defeat took place on the 25th May, 1830, and thenceforward, until 1832, Perkins remained without a customer. Towards the close of 1831 a negotiation with Harry Jones, the Sailor Boy, was concluded. The stakes, £50 a-side, were tabled, and on January 17th, 1832, at Hurley Bottom, the scene of his victory over the London Pet, the Oxford man was defeated, after a gallant defence, in twenty-two rounds, time forty-six minutes.

With this defeat closed the Ring career of “the Oxford Pet,” in three short years.

END OF VOL. II.