CHAPTER X.
ALEC REID (“THE CHELSEA SNOB”)—1821–1830.
The pedigree of Alec Reid showed that he came of a “fighting family.” His father was a Chelsea veteran, for many years in a snug berth on Nell Gwynne’s glorious foundation, and in receipt, as we have seen in the books of that institution, of a “good service allowance of two shillings and fivepence-halfpenny a day.” Let not the reader smile superciliously. Alec, the son of a humble but heroic Alexander, once demonstrated the facts to the writer with honest filial pride, and moreover laid stress upon the fact that while his papa was in garrison at Guernsey, awaiting orders to sail with his regiment for the West Indies, his mamma, on the 30th of October, 1802, presented him with a thumping boy, the seventh pledge of her affection, who was in due time baptized Alexander, and was the subject of this memoir. At the age of fourteen, Alec’s father being then invalided, and “the big wars over,” the young ’un was apprenticed to his father’s trade, that of a shoemaker, and hence his pugilistic patronymic of “the Chelsea Snob.”
His first recorded display was with one Finch, a local celebrity who, to the advantages of height and a stone in weight, added three or four years in age. Mr. Finch, in two rounds, occupying ten minutes, was so satisfied of the young Snob’s superiority that he “caved in,” and quitted the “Five Fields” (now covered by the mansions of Belgravia), never again to show in combat with the “Young Soldier,” as Alec was then nicknamed by his companions.
ALEC REID.
Reid now purchased two pairs of gloves, expensive articles in those days, and started a series of sparring soirées at the “Turk’s Head,” in Jews’ Row, near the Military Hospital. His fame spread, and finding himself on Wimbledon Common, attracted thereto by a mill between Fleming and Curwen, two London boxers, and a purse being subscribed for a second battle, young Alec boldly threw his nob-cover within the ropes. His challenge was answered by Sam Abbott, a cousin of the once-renowned Bill, who beat Phil Sampson, and made a draw with Jem Ward. Young Abbott proved himself game and resolute, but notwithstanding the advice and nursing of his clever namesake, Alec punished his nob so severely that in twenty-five minutes his cousin threw up the hat, Abbott being quite blind. Alec raised himself immensely by this victory; and when, after the battle between Ward and Abbott, on Moulsey Hurst, October 22nd, 1822, a big fellow named Hearn claimed a purse of twenty-five guineas subscribed for a second fight, Alec disputed his claim. Hearn was disposed of in fifteen minutes, the big ’un being so out-fought that he put on his coat, declaring “it wasn’t worth a fellow’s while to go on without getting a crack in now and then.”
Alec now frequently showed at the Tennis Court, in the Haymarket, and Bob Yandell, a clever sparrer, who had defeated Crayfer and Dudley Downs, having expressed a disparaging opinion of Alec’s talents, a challenge resulted, and the men met on the 14th of January, 1823, in Battersea Fields. After a battle of one hour and a half Yandell was carried from the ground thoroughly beaten, while Alec showed in Chelsea the same evening but slightly the worse for wear.
On the 20th of March, 1823, after the fight between Gipsy Cooper and Cabbage, the Gardener, Alec joined fists with Paddy O’Rafferty, an Irish candidate for fistic honours, but in thirty-one rounds, occupying sixty-three minutes, the Chelsea hero polished off Misther O’Rafferty so completely that he made no further appearance in the Ring.
Dick Defoe having declared himself anxious to meet any eleven stone man, a gentleman who had a high opinion of Alec’s abilities offered to match Reid against him. Alec consented, and the men met on Tuesday, June 17th, 1823, in Epping Forest. After thirteen rounds, Reid’s backer, considering him to be overmatched, humanely interposed, and ordered Reid to be taken away. Many were of opinion that Reid would have pulled through had he been allowed to continue. Reid lost no reputation by this defeat.
Reid’s next opponent was Harris, the Waterman, who had beaten Bill Gould, Youna de Costa, and with the exception of this defeat at the hands of Alec, never lost a fight. They met at Moulsey Hurst, on the 12th of August, 1823, entering the ring after Peace Inglis had defeated George Curtis. On the ropes being cleared Alec, in high spirits and fine condition, threw in his castor, a white one, and waited on by his late opponent Dick Defoe and Tom Callas, proceeded to make his toilet; Harris, from the opposite side, answered his token of defiance, and esquired by Josh Hudson and Harry Holt, advanced to make friendly greeting. The ceremony over, the men stood up, Harris the favourite, at five and six to four.