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.)