Reid, on his return to town, addressed letters to the sporting papers challenging Bishop Sharpe, West Country Dick, or Aaron, for £100, and undertaking to weigh no more than 10st. 4lbs. on the day of fighting.
As there were difficulties in the way with Bishop Sharpe Reid’s friends matched him against Tom Gaynor, a man certainly his overmatch by a stone in weight and three inches in height. The fight, which took place May 16th, 1826, and in which Alec suffered defeat after a game contest of one hour and ten minutes, will be found in Chapter IX., ante, page 403 of this volume.
At length preliminaries were settled between Alec and his former opponent Bishop Sharpe, for £50 a-side. The battle took place on the 6th of September, 1826, at No Man’s Land, in Hertfordshire. It was anybody’s fight for the first twenty-five minutes, when Alec received what might be termed a chance blow in the pit of the stomach, from which he never recovered, and victory was declared for the Bold Smuggler.
Shortly after this (October 27th, 1826) Reid got into trouble for having acted in the capacity of second to a man of the name of Crow, in a pugilistic contest at Old Oak Common, with one Samuel Beard. The jury found Beard, Reid, and Michael Curtis guilty, and sentenced them, Beard to seven days’ imprisonment in Newgate, and the seconds to fourteen days, and to be held in recognisances “to keep the peace for twelve months towards all His Majesty’s subjects.”
Poor Alec, having done his term in “the donjon’s dreary keep,” and lived out his recognisances to keep the peace, was once again matched with his old opponent Bishop Sharpe for £100. Little preface is necessary to the detail of the battle between these men, which was one of the best that had been witnessed for many years, even when downright milling and upstanding rallies were far more common than they became in the succeeding years, which marked the decline and fall of the P.R. They had fought twice before, in both of which instances Reid was unsuccessful.
As soon as the match was made they went into training, and thus all gradually ripened for sport. On Sunday Sharpe took his departure for St. Albans, and took up his quarters at the “Blue Boar,” and on the next evening, after a benefit at the Tennis Court, Reid followed his example, pitching his tent at the “Red Lion.” Tuesday morning (July 15th, 1828) was unfavourable, nevertheless the roads were thronged at an early hour. Both men were visited in the town; both spoke well of their condition, and with modest confidence of success; Reid saying “he had everything at stake, for if he lost he was bowled out for ever, whereas if he won he was made a man of.” Sharpe soberly said he was “to win to-day,” and his shoemaker had already booked the event as certain by inscribing on the soles of his high-lows, “These are the shoes that are to win;” a prophecy which was unfortunately trodden under foot in more ways than one, for he was for the first time in his life forced to confess he was fairly conquered, after a long career previously unchequered by defeat. The odds during the morning were five and six to four on Sharpe.
As the hour for business approached the crowd increased, till the word was given to march, and all toddled to the scene of action, where Tom Oliver had previously pitched the ropes and stakes, and collected an outer ring of wagons.
Shortly before one o’clock the Smuggler bore down for the ring attended by Josh Hudson and Dick Curtis, and having thrown in his castor, entered himself. The Snob was soon with him, under the auspices of Tom Spring and the Lively Kid (Ned Stockman). After shaking hands, the Snob said he had four sovereigns, to which he was desirous of taking odds of six to four. This was at once laid him by Dick Curtis, and staked, and the operation of peeling commenced. On stripping, weight and muscle were evidently in favour of the Bishop. He looked fresher in the mug, too, although it was said he had been imprudently attending as the host of a canvas tavern at Woolwich Races and Fairlop Fair, where he dispensed the “real thing” in large quantities. Reid looked light and thin, but was in good spirits, and seemed confident.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—Sharpe, as usual, came forward right foot foremost, measuring his man with a keen and searching eye. Alec was on the alert, both hands well up, and his right ready for a drop to save his bread-basket from the Smuggler’s favourite lunge. At last Sharpe broke ground, and planted his left slightly on Reid’s ribs. Reid instantly hit with him, right and left, at the nob, and Sharpe returned with his left in similar style. Both were rather wild, but, in the close, the Bishop was thrown. On rising to his second’s knee, there was a cry of “first blood” from Sharpe’s mouth, but at the same moment a similar tinge was seen from the Snob’s muzzle, so that on this point there was no advantage, and a tie was acknowledged.