As some palliation for the part which our hero took in the combat, Litt says: "We have the best authority for saying, that when Tom left home for Carlisle, he knew nothing of the match in question; and that the behaviour of Ridley, who was on the look-out for him, and the wishes expressed by some amateurs to witness a trial of skill between them, made Tom erroneously think that his character was at stake, and that he could not decline the contest without incurring the charge of having 'a white feather in him.'"
Tom's love for daring adventure, or sport, seems never to have forsaken him. Even in middle life, when between forty and fifty years old, this idiosyncrasy would manifest itself. Among other pursuits, he has been known to follow salmon poaching in the river Derwent and its tributaries. Once when working at Mirehouse, for Mr. Spedding, he was joined by Pearson of Browfoot, John Walker, weaver and boatman, and four or five other men from Keswick, as lawless as himself, and almost as daring. The meeting had been previously arranged at the Shoulder of Mutton, then kept by Betty Cherry. Having chosen Tom as their captain, the gang started for Euse bridge, at the foot of Bassenthwaite lake, which place they reached a couple of hours after nightfall. Operations were commenced by placing two sentinels in commanding positions, one on the bridge, and the other—John Walker—on the opposite side of the hedge, a little lower down the river.
A "lowe" being "kinnel't," the stream was found to be literally swarming with fish. Little more than laying out their nets had been done, however, when Walker shouted out: "Leùk oot, lads! they're comin'!" And just at that moment, a strong body of river watchers, numbering something like a dozen—who had evidently been laying in ambush—rushed pell-mell upon them. Walker being the first within reach, was knocked down and kept down; and the fight soon swayed fiercely from side to side. Maddened at the treatment of their mate, the poachers broke through the hedge which intervened, and fought desperately. Tom Nicholson punished one of the watchers, named Cragg, so severely, that the man had good reason to remember it for many a long year after. Walker being rescued, and the keepers chased from the ground, the poachers again took to the river, and returned home heavily laden with spoil.
During the latter part of his life, Nicholson officiated frequently as umpire or referee in the Carlisle and other rings. Having dislocated his ancle by accidentally falling on the ice, his appearance in the capacity of umpire, impressed spectators with the idea that they looked on the shattered and broken-down frame of a muscular built man, supporting himself while moving about with a stout walking-stick. The last trace we have of him as umpire, was at the match between Jackson and Longmire, which came off at Keswick, in 1845.
WILLIAM MACKERETH
OF COCKERMOUTH.
William Mackereth—"built like a castle," being broad and massive from head to foot—was born and bred at Cockermouth. He was a pupil of Tom Nicholson's; but Tom could never teach him his own favourite chip of "clickin' t' back o' t' heel," and used to resort to that move when he wanted to throw him.
Mackereth was a good hyper; and threw Harry Graham of Brigham twice in succession, the first time that Litt and William Richardson met to wrestle the match at Workington, which never came off. He also threw John Long in Westmorland, and won. In speaking of Roan Long, Mackereth used to say his own hand was like a child's hand, compared to that of the giant's.