5.—The left eye of the Gas was rather touched; but his confidence astonished the ring. The confident look of Hickman developed his mind. Oliver broke away, and also jobbed the Gas-light Man’s nob; but as to anything like hitting, it was out of him. Hickman not only bored in upon Oliver, but punished him till he went down stupid. (Hickman for any odds.)
6.—Oliver came up to the scratch heavy, but he smiled and got away from the finishing hit of his opponent. Singular to observe, in closing, Oliver, by a sort of slewing throw, sent the Gas off his legs, and he was almost out of the ring. (The applause given to Oliver was like a roar of artillery.) The Gas got up with the utmost sang froid.
7.—Oliver put in a facer, but it made no impression; and the Gas with his left hand again felt for his distance against Oliver’s nob, and the blows he planted in Oliver’s face were terrific. The strength and confidence of Hickman was like that of a giant to a boy.
8.—Oliver came up almost dozing, and began to fight as if from instinct. Hickman now made his right and left hand tell upon Oliver’s head, when the latter went down like a log of wood. (It was £100 to a farthing. “Take him away; he has not a shadow of a chance.”)
9 and last.—Oliver, game to the end, appeared at the scratch and put up his arms to fight, when the pepper administered by the Gas was so hot that he went down in a state of stupor. The Gas said to his second, “I have done it; he will not come again.” Oliver was picked up and placed on his second’s knee, but fell, and when time was called could not move. Hickman immediately jumped up and said, “I can lick another Oliver now;” and finding that this boast was in bad taste, and met no response, even from his own partisans, he, upon second thoughts, went up and shook Oliver by the hand. Medical assistance being at hand, Oliver was bled and conveyed to the nearest house. He did not come to himself rightly for nearly two hours. It was all over in twelve minutes and a half.
Remarks.—Thus, in less than three-quarters of an hour, had Hickman conquered in succession, Crawley, Cooper (twice), and Oliver. In quickness he came the nearest to the late Jem Belcher; but the Gas could not fight so well with both hands. Perhaps it might be more correct to compare him with the Game Chicken; yet the latter was a more finished and more careful fighter than Hickman. It is, however, but common justice to say of the Gas, that his confidence was unexampled. He went up to the head of his opponent to commence the fight with such certainty of success as almost enforced and asserted victory. He thought himself invulnerable before, but this conquest convinced him he was invincible, and he immediately offered as a challenge to all England, once within four or six months, to fight any man, and give a stone. It is useless to talk against stale men: Oliver fought like a hero, and it was generally said “that a man must be made on purpose to beat the Gas.” The latter was so little hurt that he walked about the ring, and played two or three games at billiards at Croydon, on his way to London. Forty-five pounds were collected for the brave but unfortunate Oliver. The backer of the Gas was so much pleased with his conduct that he ordered the President of the Daffies,[[20]] who held the stakes of £200, to give Hickman the whole of them.
Oliver, on his return to London the same evening, after he had recovered a little from the effects of this battle, called in at the Greyhound, at Croydon, when Hickman presented him with a couple of guineas. The backer of Hickman also gave Oliver five guineas; and several other gentlemen who were present were not unmindful of the courage he had displayed.
The decisive conquests of Hickman had placed him so high in the estimation of the fancy, and he was upon such excellent terms with himself, that he would not hear of a question as to his ability to conquer any pugilist on the list. In conversation on the subject, he often insisted that he was certain he could lick Cribb; and also frequently wished “that Jem Belcher was alive, that he might have had an opportunity of showing the sporting world with what ease he would have conquered that renowned boxer.” Hickman asserted he did not value size or strength; and the bigger his opponents were the better he liked them. In consequence of this sort of boasting at various times, and also upon the completion of the stakes between Randall and Martin, in August, 1821, at the Hole-in-the-Wall, Chancery Lane, a trifling bet was offered that no person present would make a match between Hickman and Neat. A gentleman immediately stepped forward and said Neat should fight Hickman either for £100 or £200 a-side, and he would instantly put down the money. This circumstance operated as a stopper, and the match went off. In another instance, the backers of the Bristol hero sported £100 at Tattersall’s, on Thursday, September 13, 1821, to put down to make a match; but the friends of Gas would not cover. It certainly was no match as to size; but, as the friends of Neat observed, “Neat has no right to be chaffed about it, as his £200 is ready at a moment’s notice.”
The match at length was knocked up in a hurry over a glass of wine, a deposit made, and the following articles of agreement entered into:—
“Castle Tavern, October 13, 1821.