HARRY BROOME (Champion).
From a Print by Moore.
As we have already said, Johnny Broome at this time filled a large space in the eye of the sporting world, and young Harry, emulous of the fistic fame of his elder brother, with a strong family instinct for fighting, was most importunate with Johnny to let him try his “prentice han’” in combat with some suitable antagonist. Johnny, however, did not choose to lower the dignity of the name of Broome by allowing Harry to strip for “a purse” with any novice; nor would he hear of a match with any “commoner” or “outsider,” for a five, ten, or twenty-five pound stake. He would back Harry for £50, or not at all.
At this time there was a strong jealousy, not to say envy, of the position earned by Johnny in Ring affairs, and more than once did we hear a wish expressed by East-enders and others, that “somebody” would “take the shine out of these upstart Brums.” Accordingly, when it was made known, in September, 1843, that “Young Harry” was ready for a “customer” for £50, they put on their considering caps, and Fred Mason (the Bulldog), standing idle in the market-place, was asked what he thought of the young “ten-stunner?”
Mason, who had, among others, twice beaten Bill Jones, after desperate battles, in which he earned his formidable nickname, received a sort of certificate from Johnny Walker (by whom he had been beaten) that he was just the man to achieve the desired object, if he could raise the half-hundred. At a council held at “The Grapes,” in Aylesbury Street, Clerkenwell, it was decided that the “needful” should be posted, and the cartel accepted. The articles proposed Tuesday, the 10th of October 1843, but subsequently Broome objected to this, as on that day the Cesarewitch would be run, at Newmarket, and several of Harry’s best friends, who were anxious to see his “first appearance,” would be unable to be present. It was accordingly postponed to Wednesday, the 11th. By mutual agreement “The Nymph” steamer was engaged by the two Johnnies (Broome and Walker) for the mutual advantage of the men, and to disburse their training and other expenses. All went smoothly. “The Nymph,” at the appointed hour of eight, got under weigh from Hungerford Market, with a goodly freight of West-enders; then she took in a large company at Old Swan Stairs, London Bridge, while the “Sages of the East” came on board at Brunswick Pier, Blackwall, in increased numbers. Thence she steamed down stream with pleasant speed (with the unwelcome convoy of a trio of crowded tugs), until she came to Long Reach, where, between Dartford and Northfleet, in a meadow distant from all human habitation, it was determined to land. This operation was performed amidst an aqueous downpour, which drenched all the row-boats and their occupants, except those who were clad in waterproof garments. The Commissary lost no time in forming the lists, immediately within the sea wall, upon an excellent piece of turf, and, despite the rattling shower, which increased rather than diminished, accomplished his task in a workmanlike manner. The stools and benches of the steamer were, as usual, transferred to the shore for the accommodation of the “Corinthians,” of whom there were many present, and a most acceptable save-all they proved; nevertheless the great majority had to grin the storm out of countenance; and amidst a perfect deluge, at twelve o’clock the combatants and their seconds made their salaams—the Bulldog under the care of Jem Turner and Jemmy Shaw; Broome waited upon by Levi Eckersley and Tom Maley.
Little time was lost in encircling the stakes with their fogles—white and blue spot for the Bulldog, and blue and white spot for Broome. Both were as cheerful as if pirouetting in the Lowther Rooms. Happily, before business commenced the storm somewhat abated, and the weather became comparatively fine, although occasional slantindicular visitations from the upper regions proved that the only thing settled was the unsettled state of the weather. Young Harry’s “first appearance” was prepossessing. He entered the ring, after dropping in his cap, with a modest bow, and a smile or nod of recognition to several acquaintances, and at once steadily proceeded to divest himself of his upper clothing. “He is a fine young fellow,” says a contemporary report, “only eighteen years of age, standing 5 feet 9 inches, and weighing 10st. 2lbs. (he was limited by virtue of the articles to 9st. 3lbs.), and evidently in first-rate condition, not an ounce of superfluous flesh being visible, and his form as active, alert, and springy as a greyhound.” Of his milling qualifications of course no one had as yet any opportunity of judging, so that he was scanned with all the curiosity with which men examine a “dark horse.” The “Bulldog” also looked in robust health, but he struck us as being too fleshy; and, added to this, it could not but be felt that he was rather stale, not only from the free life he had led, but from his repeated battles, in which he sustained no small quantum of punishment, and especially in his fight with Johnny Walker, who, however, expressed the greatest confidence in his powers. His weight, we should say, was at least 9st. 10lbs., and in length he was full two inches shorter than Broome. His rushing and fearless character of fighting gained for him the sobriquet of “Bulldog,” and his courage further entitled him to this canine distinction.
The officials being nominated, offers were made to take 7 to 4, 6 to 4, and ultimately 5 to 4; but the Broomites were cautious, although, taking youth, length, and weight into consideration, he was certainly entitled to be backed at odds. Doubts as to his qualities were, however, still to be satisfied, and the speculators were shy of investing.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—Precisely at twelve minutes to twelve the men were delivered at the scratch, neither displaying the slightest nervousness, and both looking jolly and determined on mischief. No time was lost; Broome led off with his left, but the Bulldog stopped and got away quickly. Bulldog now advanced to the charge left and right, and got home on Broome’s nose and left eyebrow. Broome, not idle, returned prettily, when the Bull rushed in, closed, and, after slight fibbing, finding Broome too strong, got down, amidst the vociferous cheers of his friends.