“I am, sir, yours obediently,
“JOSHUA HUDSON.
“July 14, 1822.”
The John Bull Fighter was matched, at short notice, with a countryman of the name of Barlow, called the Nottingham Youth, for £50 a-side. This battle was decided on Tuesday, September 10, 1822. Great sums of money were pending, and the road from London to St. Alban’s was covered with vehicles of every description, their inmates anxious to behold the “new hero” make his début. Barlow, according to report, had beaten twelve of the best men in Yorkshire, and the knowing ones were persuaded into the delusion that he would swallow Josh. at a bolt, afterwards dispose of Shelton, and ultimately put out “the Gas.” So many wagons on the ground well filled with country gentlemen (particularly from Yorkshire) had not been witnessed for a long time. A few minutes before one, Josh. threw his white topper into the ring with more than usual animation, as much as to say, “I mean to win, and nothing else!” He was followed by that “special original,” Tom Owen, and Randall, also in white hats. Hudson was loudly cheered by the spectators. The backer of Josh. accompanied him within the ropes, wearing the same emblem. Barlow was not forgotten by the crowd on making his appearance arm-in-arm with Belcher and Harmer. Hudson went up and shook hands with him. Josh. peeled instantly, and got ready; but the countryman was so long in preparing, George Head lacing his shoes carefully, and a number of officiating attendants crowding about him, that Tom Owen sung out, “What are you arter, Mr. Bel-s-h-a-r; you are keeping us waiting? Your man don’t seem to like it much. D’ye mind me?” Hudson also observed, “Come, what are we waiting for; I’m ready—let’s go to work.” Five to four on Barlow.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—On peeling, the frame of the Nottingham hero did not appear calculated to punish, and most of the pugilists present made up their minds Hudson must win. It is true, the John Bull Fighter was rather too fleshy; nevertheless, he was in fine condition, and, united with his laughing, open, and confident countenance, setting defeat at defiance, made a considerable impression in his favour with the surrounding multitude. On setting-to, Josh. stood firm as a rock, with his left arm extended, nearly touching the fists of Barlow, for half a minute; on the contrary, the knees of the countryman shook (by-the-bye, he was a bad-legged one); he appeared puzzled, and at a loss how to commence the attack. Josh., finding his opponent in no hurry to begin, let fly, and counter-hits took place. The ivory box of John Bull received a small taste; but the nose of Barlow napped a rap which produced the claret. Josh., laughing, said to the umpires, “First blood.” This decided numerous wagers. (The East-enders began to chevy it was all right, and the “special original” offered ten to one on Hudson, when Belcher replied, “I’ll take it.” “Stop till the round is over,” said Owen, “and it will be twenty to one.”) Hudson put down his hands and rubbed them on his drawers, but the countryman did not take advantage of this opening. Josh. saw that he had got him, stepped in, in the Randall and Curtis style, and, without ceremony, planted a tremendous hit under the listener of Barlow that sent him down like a shot. The countryman seemed all abroad. The shouting by the boys from the Tower was uproarious in the extreme, and five to one was offered all round the ring. Anything like description must fall short in portraying the emotions of the various countenances. The chaff-cutting countrymen, who had been so jolly before, were all struck of a heap; the few knowing ones, too—who knew everything about the feats of Barlow, and had been let into the secret, “as how the Nottingham boy had beaten twelve men in the country, had knocked Tom Belcher about in a private set-to, and had got the best of Gully in a bout with the gloves”—began to drop down a little, and to look blue; while the sages of the East offered “little all” that John Bull would again prove victorious. “Do you mind me, Josh.,” said Tom Owen, “it’s as right as the day; you have only to go in and lick him off-hand.” “Yes,” replied Josh., laughing, “I’ve got him safe enough now; I liked him when I first saw him.”
2.—The countryman was reduced to a mere dummy: he was quite puzzled, and came up to the scratch to be floored by Josh. in a twinkling. (Ten to one offered, but no takers. Hudson as strong as a horse.)
3.—Similar to the last: Barlow again measured his length on the turf.
4.—Barlow, although without a chance to win, showed himself a game man, and came to the mark for another shy; but it was only to be hit down. (Here the president of the Daffy Club interfered, and requested he might be taken away. The long faces of “I’s Yarkshire” beggared all description.)
5 and last.—Barlow came again to fight, but soon found himself in Pepper Alley. Belcher satisfied that he could not win, put up his arm to stop further punishment, and he fell down. Josh. jumped out of the ring as conqueror, only six minutes and a half having elapsed.