“Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen.
Fallen from his high estate,”
poor Jem now became the plaything, but never the parasite, of a knot of men about town, supplementing their questionable patronage by giving lessons in boxing, and conducting the room at his early patron’s (Joe Parish, the waterman and pugilist) who, for many years after his removal from Strand Lane, kept the “Lion,” at the corner of Newcastle Street, Strand. The Deaf’un—and we met him often—was always respectable in appearance and respectful in manner, and out of his small means supported an aged mother and a humble home.
In his nightly adventures in the vicinity of the Haymarket, Burke was frequently brought in contact with a big outsider, Bob Castles, well known at the “playhouses” (not the theatres), in the vicinity of Leicester Square, at “Goodred’s Saloon,” Jack Rowbottom’s “Finish,” in James Street, The Elysium, Mother Emerson’s “The Waterford Arms,” and the numerous nighthouses that then infested and infected the purlieus of Piccadilly, and disgraced and degraded the very name of a sporting house. Bob was a great boaster, and on the strength of having stripped twice in the P.R. (once in August 20, 1827, when he beat Bill Bailey at Portsmouth Races, and again on April 2, 1828, with Paddy Flynn, at Colney Heath, when he got “the value of a bating”), he was a sort of “professional” guide to roysterers out on the spree, and a bully for those who might hire his services. Bob was, moreover, a great talker, and, to use a Pierce-Eganism, “flash as the knocker of Newgate.” This worthy never missed an opportunity of making the naturally good-natured Deaf’un the butt of his chaff, and even of many rough practical jokes. On one of these occasions the Deaf’un taking umbrage at what he supposed to be an interference with some of his “’ticular frien’s,” quietly warned “Mister Bobs” that if he didn’t mend his manners “he’d jest punch Mister Bobs’ pimples.” One word begetting another, and the Deaf’un, considering himself better at an argumentum ad hominem with the fist than a verbal disputation, dared Castles to the field; the latter ridiculed the idea, and several of those present agreeing that a good licking mutually administered might do good to both of them, a deposit was made to be increased to £50, and that the veterans should have the opportunity of displaying their courage and settling their difference of opinion, secundem artem, with Nature’s original weapons. To afford them an opportunity to prepare for their “trial by battle,” three weeks were allowed for training, and in the interim the wrathful heroes went under the necessary regimen and exercises, Burke at the “Five Bells,” Putney, Castles at the pleasant Hill of Richmond. Monday, June 13th, 1843, was the eventful day. Castles, as the deposits went on, found no difficulty in collecting his “coriander seed;” but the poor honest Deaf’un did not find his friends, however prompt to promise when under the influence of champagne, so ready when its effervescence had subsided to relieve the mortified feelings of their protégé by substantial support. Indeed, he might have miscarried at the time, for, as he told us, he found no end of difficulty “in raising his winds; all the good ones as used to do the liberals being gones.” At this juncture Young Dutch Sam kindly stepped in and posted the “possibles,” but at the expense of several town visits by the Deaf’un, which consumed hours that would have been more advantageously devoted to improving his bodily condition. In truth, Burke had outlived his fistic fame; and, although the hero of some twenty battles, it was considered that the steel had been taken out of him, and that his renewed appearance in the milling arena would be a mere impotent exhibition of departed powers. Despite of the difficulties he had to encounter, and the low estimate of his capabilities entertained by many, he sustained the character for hardihood, steadiness, and cunning tact that served him so well in days gone by. As to Castles, his height (nearly six feet) and superior activity were considered strong points in his favour.
At the last deposit it was agreed between Young Dutch Sam and Mr. Edward Lacey, the host of the “Garrick’s Head” tap—to whom the fortunes of Bob Castles had been entrusted—that a trip down the river was the most prudent mode of bringing matters to a conclusion, and for this purpose the “Nymph,” Woolwich steamer, was duly chartered, and directed to be moored off Waterloo Bridge on the morning of battle at eight o’clock. The “skipper” was punctual to his appointment, and soon after that hour the men and their partisans were safely embarked. Of the latter the muster was limited, but among them were a few “Corinthians,” whose appearance belied the conclusion that they had “risen with the lark,” although we opine they had not placed themselves in a position to render rising necessary. At a quarter after eight the craft was under weigh for London Bridge, whence, after a passing call, she proceeded to Blackwall, and there having taken in a few of “the right sort,” pursued her downward course. The Deaf’un was a little crusty on his supposed exclusion from a due share of the profits of the boat, but in this he was overruled. There was one point, however, upon which he was inexorable, namely, that, “as he was outs on a parties of pleasures,” he would “go the whole hogs,” and not stop short of Gravesend, where he expected to find Young Dutch Sam and some friends. He had no objection, however, having seen them, to “try backs, and fight on the roads homes, instead of dropping downs to the Lower Hopes,” the vicissitudes attending on the last trip to which locality was still fresh in his as well as our recollection. Accordingly, to Gravesend the “Nymph” pursued her voyage. Here Sam was found, but his state of health was such as to render his embarkation indiscreet. Little time was lost in “putting about,” and finally dropping anchor at Rainham Ferry, on the Essex shore, nearly opposite Erith, the belligerents and their followers were quickly landed, and the coast being clear, the ring was formed on a fine piece of turf behind the bank, a snug public-house affording the men a convenient resting-place till all was ready. Of betting on the voyage down we heard but little, and this at “evens,” the Deaf’un sporting his “last solitary shilling” on himself.
The Commissary having discharged his functions, aided by Tom Callas, and provided seats for the limited assemblage of spectators, the combatants were summoned to the scratch, and forth they came, nothing loth; Burke attended by Cullen and Jerry Donovan, and Castles by Tom Reidie and Fuller. On stripping, Burke looked as full in flesh and as prominent in muscle as when personating Hercules in his celebrated representation of the Grecian Statues. He stated he weighed 12st. 4lb., and stood 5ft. 8in. Castles was not so heavy, barely weighing 12st.; but he had the advantage in height, being 5ft. 11in; his length taking from his width, he looked thin, but he was evidently in good health. There was a speck in one of his eyes, but he said it did not interfere with his vision, so that there was no fear of his antagonist getting on his “blind side.” “Richard’s himselfs agains,” said the great disciple of Shakspeare, and at twenty minutes to two both men advanced, having previously tied their colours to the stakes (blue bird’s eye for the Deaf’un, and white bird’s eye for Castles), and tendering the hand of good fellowship, commenced
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—Odds, 5 to 4 on the Deaf’un. A few leary dodges, each feeling for an opening, and the Deaf’un expanding his chest and stretching his pounders from the shoulders, as if to give them freedom and elasticity. Castles tried his left, but was stopped; he then kept feeling for his man, the Deaf’un waiting, and cautious; nearer and nearer till at last they got within distance, when wild and slight counter-hits were exchanged with the left, then a rush to in fighting; a few scrambling hits, but no mischief done, and the Deaf’un dropped on his knees. On rising, Castles showed a slight discolouration on the right cheek-bone.
2.—Castles manfully to his work; the Deaf’un quiet and waiting; Castles short with his left, and the Deaf’un on the alert; heavy counter-hitting with the left, and Burke popped in his favourite right-handed hit on the nut. More counter-hitting with the left; and in the close the Deaf’un was down, and got up blowing.
3.—Bob, on coming up, showed symptoms of having received nobbers on the forehead left and right, and the Deaf’un’s eyes twinkled as if they had been asked a question. Castles prompt to the call of “time,” and Burke steadily but slowly to him. The Deaf’un tried at the mark with his left, but it was a mere tap; Bob advanced, the Deaf’un retreating till they reached the corner, when Bob let fly his left, catching it severely in return. A determined rally followed, and heavy hits were exchanged left and right; the Deaf’un catching Castles a severe right-handed hit on the jaw. In the end, the Deaf’un fell on his knees outside the ropes. On getting on his “second’s” knees he pointed to his right arm, as if it had been shaken in the last round.