Chapter III: , p. 77 (2)

REMARKS.—Nosworthy proved himself a confident
boxer. If his movements were not equal to the
scientific precision of Tom Belcher, his
undaunted resolution and courage, from the
commencement to the termination of the fight,
reminded many of the spectators of that peculiar
forte of Bill Hooper. The Baker was a two-handed
hitter, and seemed perfectly awake to the
business before him. From this mode of attack
the debilitated Jew stood no chance whatever.
The strength of Sam, once so much the theme of
his backers, was missing, and he appeared a mere
shadow of his former self. He could not knock
down Nosworthy, or even hit him away. This
defeat of a great favourite may operate as a
useful lesson: youth and strength must be
served; and never was the position more clearly
and decisively shown than in this instance. Sam
was turned of forty-one years of age, and his
irregularities of life must have dilapidated as
fine a constitution as was ever possessed by
man. His opponent, a young man of twenty-eight,
was in good health, of great strength, and
weighed a stone and a half more than the Jew;
besides, we are to take into the scale that
Nosworthy was not destitute of skill, and
possessed unimpeachable bottom, which had shown
itself in all the battles he had fought. But
calculation was out of the question. The game of
chance, even, was completely lost sight of. “To
a certainty, to a certainty,” was the cry of
nearly the whole of the fancy; and any opinion
expressed in favour of the Baker was instantly
silenced by four to one, treated as a want of
judgment, and laughed at with derision and
contempt. Upon Sam’s resigning the contest, a
general consternation took place among the
backers of the hero. If the Jews were weighed
down with grief, the Christians were equally
miserable and chapfallen at this unexpected
defeat. So complete a cleaning out, it is
supposed, had not taken place in the boxing
world, since the conquest obtained by Slack. It
is computed that, in different parts of the
kingdom, £100,000 at least were lost upon this
battle. In the dismay of the moment, the
exclamations of the losers were loud and
vehement. “’Tis impossible!” said many. “It must
be a cross!” The combatants did not appear to be
so much punished as might have been expected.
But the case was altered; instead of giving, as
heretofore, Sam now received punishment. Sam
must have suffered terribly from the repeated
knock-down blows he experienced; but his frame
was of so close a texture that it did not
exhibit marks of punishment like most other men.
This was an important point towards victory on
his side, by disheartening his antagonists, who,
however they might mill him, could not see the
result of their efforts, from Sam’s appearing
fresh and unhurt. Had Sam properly attended to
his training, had he viewed the consequences of
the battle in the light of an experienced
veteran, bearing in mind that he had everything
to lose, and but little to gain, the sequel
might have proved different. His experience and
judgment should also have pointed to him, that
youth, strength, science, and determined
resolution were not to be disposed of as matters
of course; that it was not a mere sporting
article he had to pink for his amusement—one who
had presumptuously dared to enter the lists
against so mighty and renowned a chief. Some
caution, it might be presumed, was necessary
when it was also known to him his antagonist was
above a novice; that Nosworthy was an energetic
boxer, aspiring to reach the top of the tree.
But the conquests of Sam had made him forget
himself. Fame and flattery had cheated him. The
whole race of pugilists viewed him as a
phenomenon, and impressed with this character,
it should seem, latterly, that poor Sam “had
crept so much into favour with himself,” that he
vainly imagined he had only to appear in the
ring, and his name alone was sufficient to
vanquish any pugilist who might have the
temerity to oppose him. He at length fell a
victim to “self-conceit” and ill-timed flattery.

The fame which Nosworthy earned on this occasion led to several challenges, among others to one from the renowned and hardy Scroggins, which he accepted, and they met on June 16, 1815, at Moulsey Hurst. The details of this battle will be found in the Life of SCROGGINS, p. 416, who was on this, as on many other hard fought fields, the conqueror. His friends attributed this defeat to bad condition; but the truth seems to be that in Scroggins, Bill Nosworthy met a miller of his own stamp.

Bill was afterwards matched to fight George Curtis, but the latter paid forfeit from ill-health.

Nosworthy felt his defeat by the hardy little tar, and never recovered his usual spirits. Dissipation and excessive drinking hurried him into a consumption, and in the last stage of this frightful disease, he, with the assistance of a few friends, left London for Lympstor, in Devonshire; but, in October 26, 1816, while resting at Exeter, he received his final knock-down, scarcely surviving the Jew three months. His connections in Devon were very respectable, and his manners, until depraved by excessive drink, pleasing, while his appearance was prepossessing.

BEN BURN (“UNCLE BEN”)—1810‒1834.

There was nothing in the pugilistic exploits of the first of the Burn family (“Uncle Ben,” as he was afterwards termed, on account of the higher merits of his “nevvy”) to deserve particular record. He was well known as a sparrer with the “big ’uns” at the Fives Court, a match-maker, a second, a ring attendant, and a sporting publican. He beat J. Christie on Highgate Common, January 1, 1810, for 40 guineas. Fought Flanagan for 100 guineas, March 27, 1814, whom he also defeated. His after fights were with Dogherty, Silverthorne, Palmer Jones, Tom Spring, and Tom Oliver, by all of whom he was beaten. He also had a set-to with “Gibletts” (Charles Grantham), whom he beat in twenty minutes in a room fight in Bow Street, June 13, 1821. His last appearance (which is omitted under his name in “Fistiana”) was with Old Tom Oliver, in 1834, who defeated him at Hampton in six rounds, twenty-four minutes, for £25 a-side, as will be seen under the Memoir of OLIVER.

HARRY HARMER, THE COPPERSMITH—1812‒1815.

This scientific pugilist was allied to the family of the Belchers, and was born in the place known as the Horse Fair, Bristol, in 1784. His sparring was for many years the theme of admiration. His height, five feet eight inches and a half; his weight, eleven stone and a few pounds. It does not appear that Harmer, although reared in the hot-bed of pugilists, exhibited in any public scientific contest previous to his arrival in the metropolis.

The superior style he displayed in his first battle with Maltby, the latter having vanquished George Cribb and Cope, brought Harmer into notice with the admirers of pugilism. With Jack Ford, in his second contest, he also rose a step higher; and in his third and last battle, with Shelton, he established his reputation as a game and first-rate boxer.

Harmer entered the lists with Maltby on Thursday, June 12, 1812, at Wilsden Green, for a purse of £25 guineas. Maltby was the favourite six to four, and nearly a stone heavier than Harmer, who was a stranger to the ring. Tom Jones and Cropley seconded Maltby, and Belcher and Richmond attended upon Harmer. At one o’clock the men set-to.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Both the combatants seemed intent on
fighting, and began without ceremony; they,
however, soon disengaged from a close, and
Harmer, with great dexterity, planted a severe
right-handed hit on one of Maltby’s peepers
without receiving any return. Maltby, with much
determination, fought his way into a close, and,
in a trial of strength to obtain the throw, they
both fell, Harmer uppermost. (The odds rather
lowered, and Harmer became attractive.)

2.—Harmer commenced in grand style, and planted
a left-handed blow upon Maltby’s nose, which,
added to his already damaged eye, changed the
appearance of his face. A desperate rally
occurred, and hit for hit took place, when
Maltby was floored from a severe blow on his
forehead. (The partizans of Harmer began loudly
to applaud, and offered five to four upon his
winning.)

3.—The men were both on their mettle, and
considerable execution was done on both sides.
Maltby stood up like a hero, and satisfied the
spectators he had not a particle of flinching
in his composition. A rally ensued, and much
reciprocal hitting occurred. The right hand of
Maltby punished Harmer’s body so severely
that, from one tremendous hit, he went
staggering away like a drunken man; but the
latter, to the astonishment of the ring,
returned hastily upon his opponent, and, in a
finishing style of execution, Maltby went
down. It was now seen that the reach of Harmer
gave him the superiority, and his friends
sported the odds without hesitation.

4 to 15 and last.—At this early stage of the
fight Maltby was reduced. Harmer made play in
every round, and kept the lead in gallant style.
From the quickness of Harry, he literally beat
his man stupid. Maltby contended, in the most
determined manner, for thirty-seven minutes,
when nature was so exhausted, that he was
carried out of the ring by his seconds.

From this manly specimen Harmer became the object of considerable conversation in the pugilistic circles; his length, quickness, and punishing hitting deterred a few of the fighting men from entering the lists with him, till Jack Ford was matched with him for a purse of 25 guineas.

This battle took place on the 23rd of August, 1813, a mile to the eastward of St. Nicholas, in Kent, upon the land of Mr. Neale, a Kentish yeoman, a short distance from Margate. The veteran Joe Ward and Hall seconded Harmer; Paddington Jones and Clark attended upon Ford.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Harry commenced fighting with great
confidence by making play right and left, but
without much effect, Ford having stopped and
returned. In closing, they both went down. The
betting, which had been previously rather high
upon Harmer, was now rather reduced, it
appearing that Ford would not let his nob
receive that severe punishment which Harmer had
dealt out so liberally upon Maltby. (Five to
four upon Harmer.)

2.—A good rally, and both the combatants upon
their mettle. Ford most conspicuous, but did
not like the right hand of Harmer. Strength on
both sides was resorted to in falling; but the
advantages in this round appeared on the side
of Ford.

3.—The right hand of Harmer got into work, and
the forehead of Ford received a severe taste of
his quality. The game of the latter, however,
was not so soon frightened as to deter him from
attempting to adopt his favourite mode of
in-fighting; and several teasers did not
frustrate Ford from boring in upon his
adversary, yet he still lost by comparison, and
was thrown.

4.—The truth must be told: the bad training of
Ford could no longer be concealed. His wind was
treacherous, and he was sparring to gain time;
but he guarded himself so scientifically, that a
short time elapsed before any opening occurred
whereby Harmer could derive any advantage, when
he at length put in a heavy body blow on his
opponent, and Ford, with considerable dexterity,
returned a “sender” on the head of Harmer.
Equality was preserved in this round; but Ford
went down from a terrible blow. (Brisk betting
upon Harmer two to one.)

5.—Ford, full of pluck, rallied with spirit,
slashing away without any care respecting
himself; and Harmer was no ways behind hand in
hammering his opponent. Their hitting told,
and the round was not terminated without
considerable execution being manifest. Harmer
threw Ford. Weakness now appeared on both
sides.

6.—Harmer received a severe hit in the body and
went down.

7.—In going in to rally, Harmer was repulsed by
Ford, when the latter for a short period had
the best of the milling. On getting near the
ropes, Harmer got Ford’s nob under his left arm
and fibbed him so terribly that he was glad to
put an end to it by falling through his hands.
Harmer was now the favourite in every point of
view.

8.—Ford, always brave, showed he was determined
not to lose his character, and the fortitude he
exhibited in this round claimed universal
praise. Punishing without ceremony took place
upon both sides; and the right hand of Harry,
from a terrible hit he planted upon Ford’s eye,
was much injured. The combatants stuck to each
other hard and fast, pelting away in all
directions; but the strength of Ford was leaving
him, and he held by the ropes, where the mastery
of Harmer was evident, by holding up his
opponent with his left hand and with his right
putting in some weighty blows. The betting
amateurs were now satisfied it was all their own
way, and offered to lay any odds upon Harmer.

9.—Ford had now received so much severe
punishment that it was evident he was losing
ground rapidly. He had given such decided
specimens of game in his other contests, that it
was well known he would not relinquish fighting
while anything like a chance remained. He
therefore summoned all his courage to get a turn
in his favour, but was reduced to that state
where superior science and strength must be
served. Ford, from one leg being shorter than
the other, fought under peculiar disadvantages
in this respect, and when retreating, it
appeared very conspicuously. It now appeared
that he fell without a blow, but it was owing to
this defect.

10.—Humanity of character should never be
forgotten, and it ought always to be recorded as
an example to other pugilists. Ford was in an
unfortunate situation against the ropes, where a
blow must have finished him; but Harmer nobly
disdained to take any advantage of a brave
competitor while a more manly path presented
itself; and he never could show manhood in a
finer style than in walking away and leaving
Ford to go down himself.

11.—Harmer now punished his antagonist with ease
and address till he went down, and Ford was more
enfeebled every round; but, notwithstanding the
milling he met with, he could not be prevailed
upon to give in until the twenty-third round,
when he was completely told out.

REMARKS.—Ford, although defeated, showed that
his pretensions to boxing were good and
scientific, and that he was not to be got at
without some difficulty. The importance of
training does not seem to operate on pugilists
in general; or, if they do understand its value,
it should seem that, in too many instances, they
do not strictly comply with its regulations to
obtain those essential requisites toward
victory—sound wind and good condition. It was
evident that Ford suffered considerably from
this neglect. As an in-fighter he was able to do
considerable execution, but the length of Harmer
was too much for him. With Oliver, Ford
contended for two hours and ten minutes; and,
notwithstanding it was thought that he had
generally improved, yet with Harmer he was
disposed of in thirty-five minutes. Ford’s body
exhibited some severe marks of punishment, and
he was bled before he left the ground.

Harmer, after a year and a half had elapsed, was matched with Tom Shelton, the navigator. It may not be improper to premise the occasion of this battle. Shelton was introduced at the Fives Court, and ascended the stage with Harmer, at Cribb’s benefit, on May 31, 1814, as a complete novice. Shelton appeared determined for a downright mill, and attacked Harmer furiously, endeavouring to show his abilities. Harry, with skill and dexterity, parried off his strength, and put in some touches that drew forth the claret. To call it sparring would be erroneous, it was complete roughing. The impetuosity of Shelton was astonishing, and it was also curious to observe the decided mode in which Harmer drove the former away from him. During the contest Shelton was so sharply met by his antagonist, that he turned completely round twice, and recommenced his attack. The science of Harmer, however pre-eminent, was not enough to convince Shelton of his superiority, and it at length became necessary for Harry to add strength to his efforts to abate the rushing of his opponent. Harmer, at arms’ length, gloved him severely, but, upon Shelton rushing in to mill, Harry got his nob under his left arm, and with his right hand fibbed him so tightly that, to prevent its proceeding to an actual fight, it was deemed prudent that no more such sparring should take place between them in the Court. This was Shelton’s first appearance; and, from the spirit he displayed, he was much fancied by several of the amateurs. An opinion was entertained that he only wanted a better knowledge of boxing, in addition to his other requisites, to make him a dangerous customer for any of his weight. In the course of a twelvemonth he acquired considerable science; and, notwithstanding the character Harmer maintained as a first-rate boxer, the capabilities of Shelton were not viewed with indifference by many of Harry’s friends. The match at length being made for 100 guineas, it created considerable interest in the sporting circles, and on Tuesday, April 18, 1815, they met, in a twenty-four feet roped ring, on Hounslow Heath, near the rivulet which divides the heath from Twickenham Common. Shelton was the heavier man by some pounds. Seven to four on Harmer eagerly taken by the friends of Shelton. The spectators were exceedingly numerous. Richmond and Oliver were for Shelton, and Tom Belcher and Bill Gibbons with Harmer. At one o’clock the men shook hands and set-to.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The determined quality of Shelton was
well known to the amateurs, and great anxiety
was manifested. The navigator, eager to commence
fighting, endeavoured to plant two left-handed
blows, but his distance proving incorrect,
Harmer floored him in a twinkling, and the
claret was visible upon his face. (Loud
shouting, and two to one freely offered against
Shelton.)

2.—The Navigator, from his eagerness to do
something, again hit short, as did Harmer in
returning. The men now got into a sharp rally,
when Harmer, from a slip, fell down upon his
knees, and received an accidental blow from the
suddenness of his situation. “Foul!” “Fair!” was
vociferated, but the umpires knowing the real
state of the case, the battle did not suffer the
slightest interruption.

3.—This round was resolutely contested on both
sides, and the combatants, in a tremendous
rally, exchanged hit for hit with a firmness
that claimed applause from all parts of the
ring. Harmer, in point of quickness, put in the
most blows, and finished the round by sending
his man down. (It was current betting five to
two upon Harmer.)

4.—Good reciprocal boxing, when, in closing,
Harmer was thrown.

5.—Shelton, full of gaiety, made play, and
Harmer, from a slight hit, was again on the
ground.

6.—The science of Harmer was seen to much
advantage in this round. From the Navigator’s
hitting short, he received tremendously left and
right from Harmer, and was ultimately floored.
(This changed the betting again, and seven to
four was sported upon Harry.)

7.—The blows upon both sides were so hard and
fast as not to be described. It was a long
round, and Harmer went down rather distressed.

8.—The time appeared to be called rather too
quick for both men, as both showed symptoms of
distress. Some sparring occurred, when Shelton
was missing in an instant: he received a blow
under his left ear, and he appeared stunned,
lying on the ground.

9.—It was astonishing to see with what pluck
Shelton again met his man. Another desperate
rally took place, at the end of which Shelton
went down.

10.—Some good blows exchanged, and both down.

11.—The Navigator was on the grass from a slight
hit.

12.—A short round, and Shelton thrown cleanly by
his adversary.

13.—Both the combatants were no strangers to
the hammering they had received. However, they
got into work, and desperation seemed the
order of the round. Harmer manfully strove to
take out the fight of his opponent, while the
latter seemed to have that precise object in
view. It was hard work on both sides; but the
round closed to the advantage of Shelton, who
sent Harmer down. The head of the latter
unfortunately, in falling, came in contact
with a stake.

14.—The appearance of Harmer was against him
on coming to the scratch; and none but an
extraordinary man could have returned so quickly
to have commenced the round. His right hand
appeared also to have given way, and some alarm
was felt from this circumstance. Harmer went
down from a slight hit. The backers of Harry
were rather puzzled, and the partizans of
Shelton now boldly offered six to four upon him.

15.—Affairs were materially changed. Shelton
was now decidedly the favourite; he again sent
Harmer down.

16.—Harmer was still in the back ground,
notwithstanding he exerted himself to change
this unfortunate aspect. Shelton again had it
his own way, and Harry went down from a slight
blow. The friends of Shelton looked upon victory
as a matter of course, and betted seven to four
without hesitation; many still greater odds.

17.—This round, to all appearance, seemed to
have decided the fight. A rally took place, but
Shelton was quite a hero in it; he planted blows
in all directions, and, from a dreadful one that
Harmer received on his nob, he was floored in a
twinkling. (Five to one upon Shelton.)

18.—Harmer came up to the scratch in a tottering
state. He merely placed himself in a fighting
position, but was soon sent down.

19 to 21.—The game exhibited by Harmer under
these circumstances astonished every one
present. In all these rounds he seemed
bewildered, and the advice of his seconds lost
upon him. It was all against him, and in the
twenty-first round Shelton was so much the
superior man, that Harmer was hit out of the
ring. (The odds were now so great, and the
termination of the battle considered so certain
in favour of Shelton, that no takers were to be
found.)

22.—Harmer came almost reeling to meet his man.
It was desperation in the extreme, or, in the
bold language of the hero of Bosworth Field,

“I have set my life upon a cast,
And I will stand the hazard of the die.”

It was thought next to an impossibility
that Harmer could last a round longer; but
such is the uncertainty of battle, that he
made a tolerable bout of it, and also had
the good fortune to hit his opponent down.
The surprise this circumstance occasioned
cannot be described; even betting was the
fact.

23.—Harmer appeared first upon his legs, and,
strange to state, so sudden was the falling off
of the Navigator that, on being brought to face
his man, he seemed insensible to every object
around him. Harmer hit him down.

24.—Considering the exhausted state of both
the combatants, this might be considered a
good round. The Navigator seemed to recollect
himself, and ultimately sent down Harmer.
(Shelton was again the favourite, and seven to
four against his opponent was viewed as safe
betting.)

25.—Harmer still persevered, in spite of all
obstacles, and from the advantage of giving
Shelton a dreadful cross-buttock, victory turned
in his favour. The fall was so heavy that the
breath seemed to be all shaken out of the
Navigator, and one of his shoulders received a
violent contusion.

26.—Shelton was completely stupefied from the
effects of the last round, and Harry merely
pushed him down. (The odds now rapidly changed
again, and Harmer for anything.)

27, 28, and last.—The Navigator was all but
done, and a blow from Harmer on the side of his
head put a period to the contest, which was
decidedly finished in thirty-five minutes.

REMARKS.—It was impossible for superior courage
to have been shown in any battle whatever than
in this between Harmer and Shelton; a more truly
sporting fight was never witnessed. It is true
the amateurs felt some degree of surprise at the
sudden falling off of the Navigator; but Harmer
raised his fame from his manly conduct, and
only won the battle from his unbounded game and
perseverance.

Harmer, shortly after the above combat, in company with Fuller, crossed the water, in order to give the natives of France some practical ideas on the national sport of English boxing, and were liberally received. Their efforts were thus delicately announced in the French papers:—“Two English boxers have already given several representations in the Rue Neuve des Petits Champs. Persons of the most refined sensibility may be present, for these boxers do not strike so as to do each other any injury. In England, after every battle, one or two of the assailants must be declared _hors de combat_, and when they are obliged to carry him off the field in a wheel-barrow or on a shutter the pleasure is complete. At Paris we are not so greedy: we content ourselves with a few blows, and the demonstration of them is enough.”

Harmer set-to with Fuller upon a stage erected on the race-course, near Montmartre, between the heats. The Duke of Wellington was one of the spectators upon this occasion, and ordered five Napoleons to be put into the hat. This was shortly after the occupation of Paris by the allied sovereigns, and a number of distinguished characters belonging to various nations attended. At some of the minor theatres in Paris the sparring of these boxers not only contributed to fill up the ballet of action, but was loudly applauded. The liberality of Monsieur, however, was far behind the contributions of the amateurs at Moulsey. One lively instance presents itself. An English officer, a Captain of the Guards, went round to the spectators on the race-course with a hat, to collect subscriptions for Harmer and Fuller, and upon coming up to a fashionably dressed Frenchman, he generously threw in a single sous. The officer, by way of a set-off for the liberal donation, immediately held it up in his hand and, walking round the stage, exclaimed, “Behold this very handsome present given by a French gentleman!” This _nouvelle_ mode of ridicule had the desired effect, and the Frenchman, not possessing nerve enough to encounter such an _exposé_, instantly took the hint and galloped off the ground, amidst the shouts and laughter of the assemblage, which was a complete mixture of English, French, Austrians, Prussians, Russians, etc.

From the conflict of opinion respecting the battle between Harmer and Shelton, the friends of the latter were induced to give him another chance. He was accordingly backed to fight Harmer, on the 26th of June, 1816; but Shelton, during his training, fell off altogether in constitution, and paid forfeit.

In December, 1817, Harmer’s ring career was ended by a severe ophthalmic disorder, which so affected his eyesight as to compel him to decline all challenges. As Harry had never been defeated, he was the object of some envy. He began business as a publican at the Plough, in West Smithfield, which he kept for many years. Shelton, having called at Harmer’s and quarrelled with him, he thereafter published a challenge, to which Harmer sent the following reply:—

“SIR,—

“I have only to observe, in answer to your challenge to me in
_Bell’s Weekly Dispatch_, that you know the cause which compelled me
to take off my coat and waistcoat in the affair to which you allude.
It was to resent an injury; nay, more, it was to recover my money,
the wager not being decided. Under the like circumstances, I hope I
shall be always ready to resent an injury. Respecting my fighting
again in the prize ring, it is well known to you and the sporting
world that, from my defect of sight, I have left the ring. Indeed, I
regret my defect of sight most seriously, that I am not able to meet
you again in the ring, as I feel equally confident respecting the
termination of it as it occurred about three years since in our
battle.

“H. HARMER.

“_The Plough, Smithfield, October 21, 1820._”

Harmer died in 1834, well respected by numerous friends.

HENRY JOSIAH HOLT, THE CICERO OF THE RING—1816‒1820

Harry Holt was born at Islington on the 17th of May, 1792. In early life he was articled to a surveyor, but his master having failed, he was turned over for the remainder of his apprenticeship to a builder, in St. Martin’s Lane. Here he seems to have imbibed a love of “arms,” and, disdaining the jog-trot operations of the plane and saw, he appears to have determined to chisel his way through life in a more exciting path. That this resolution was prudent we are by no means disposed to believe, but “every one to his taste,” as the old woman said when she kissed her cow; and if he was unable to build for himself a fame equal to Sir Christopher Wren, he at least obtained a fame in other respects which, to the day of his death, made him acceptable in the eyes of the fancy circles.

Upon all occasions in the prize ring he evinced a tact and gallantry which obtained for him well-earned commendations; and his literary ability for some time made him the support of the milling department of the second sporting paper of the kingdom, the _Era_.

The first recorded conflict in which Harry Holt engaged was with a hero of the trowel, in the Five Fields, Chelsea, in the year 1810. His opponent was well known in the neighbourhood as a determined miller, and flattered himself he could dispose of the pretensions of the slight and fair-haired youth without giving him half a chance. But the science and quickness of Harry turned the scale, and he not only astonished the bricklayer, but carried off the laurel of victory in triumphant style. His next trial was with a life-guardsman (as recorded in “Boxiana”), and here again, despite the disparity of height and weight, Harry milled the swordsman till he laid down his arms.

The skirmishes of Holt ere he was out of his teens will be found related in “Boxiana,” vol. iii., pp. 372‒5, in the usual loose, skimble-skamble, ungrammatical style of the uneducated editor of that undigested hotch-potch.

At the age of twenty-five Harry first shied his castor within the twenty-four feet ring (so called, upon the _lucus a non lucendo_ principle, from its shape being a parallelogram), on the 20th of August, 1816, with Joe Parish, the waterman. This was indeed a manly, as well as a scientific, contest; and, although defeated, Holt earned “golden opinions” from all those whose good opinion was worth having. The victory was gamely disputed for ninety minutes, during which seventy rounds were fought. At the commencement Holt was thought to have the advantage, but the tide of fortune soon changed, and he “got into trouble,” out of which he never again was able to struggle. On one occasion during the fight Parish had Holt upon the ropes, in a position where he might in all probability have “finished” him, but he manfully threw up his hands and walked away, amidst loud and well-merited approbation from all parts of the ring. Holt felt so impressed with this generous behaviour of his adversary, that while his adversary sat upon his second’s knee, he shook him by the hand, saying, “I thank you, Joe, for your conduct.” After an hour and ten minutes, the termination seemed extremely doubtful, when Parish, like a true aquatic, watching the turn of the “tide which leads to fortune,” went in so strongly and determinedly that poor Harry, despite the most heroic efforts, was forced to succumb, and was led from the ring completely beaten. The result of this contest raised both men in the esteem of the milling circles, and Parish (this was his first appearance in the prize ring) was shortly after matched against the Nonpareil, Jack Randall, who, we need hardly say, in turn defeated the victor.

Holt now devoted some nine months to sparring, and acquiring a still further knowledge of his art. His manners were pleasing, his address engaging, and, as he sung a song somewhat above mediocrity, his company was sought, a dangerous thing for a young man in the great metropolis. Harry, too, from having received an education somewhat above the average of the society with which he mixed, and being moreover gifted with a command of words and a power of expression rather beyond the ordinary range, was generally elected to address the public on the occasion of benefits, etc., by such of his brother pugs who were “slow and halt of speech,” a deficiency to which those readiest with hands and feet are often doomed. From these oratorical displays, he soon acquired the sobriquet of “Cicero,” and, as the Cicero of the ring, Harry Holt for some quarter of a century figured in the public prints.

Holt’s next appearance in the prize ring was with Jack O’Donnell (said to be a relative of the once celebrated Irish pugilist of that name), at Arlington Corner, near Hounslow Heath, after a harassing journey of some miles across the country, in consequence of the interruption which took place on the day the first fight between Scroggins and Turner occurred, at Hayes, Middlesex. This was on Wednesday, March 26, 1817. The combatants stripped in a heavy shower of rain, and commenced fighting at a quarter before six o’clock in the evening. Tom Owen and Dolly Smith seconded O’Donnell; and Painter and Harmer attended upon Holt. Five to four on the latter.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Upon setting-to the attitude of Holt
was extremely elegant, and his appearance
altogether rather interested the spectators
in his behalf. He commenced play without
ceremony, by planting a severe facer under
O’Donnell’s left eye, and got away with much
dexterity. The latter endeavoured to return
the compliment, but hit short. It was one of
the most manly rounds ever witnessed, the men
fighting at arm’s length; and, notwithstanding
the rain descended in torrents, the combatants
seemed insensible to its chilling effects, and
opposed each other with the utmost gaiety. A
number of good blows passed between them,
materially to the advantage of Holt, who nobbed
poor Paddy most successfully. Near ten minutes
had elapsed, nothing like closing had occurred,
and both appeared quite exhausted, when
O’Donnell rushed in, and Holt was sent down.
Such a first round was scarcely ever seen
before. (Seven to four on Holt.)

2.—O’Donnell, finding that keeping out from his
opponent was disadvantageous, endeavoured to
bore in, but Holt stopped him by a tremendous
blow on the jaw, that made his pimple rattle
again. The Irishman was not to be dismayed, and
he succeeded in marking one of Holt’s peepers.
Some reciprocal fighting took place, when, in a
struggle to obtain the throw, both went down,
but Holt undermost.

3.—Holt hit and stopped with great facility,
and his science was loudly admired throughout
the ring. O’Donnell did not want for courage,
and showed himself to much advantage in this
round. A desperate rally took place, and in
closing, O’Donnell endeavoured to fib Holt, but
the latter resolutely broke away, and knocked
O’Donnell’s head about like a spinning top. Both
ultimately went down.

4.—A smile sat upon the countenance of Holt: he
had all the coolness about his actions of the
experienced pugilist, and he scarcely threw a
blow away. O’Donnell’s mug, from the repeated
attacks made upon it, appeared rather out of
shape. Both again down. (Two to one upon Holt.)

5 to 17 and last.—It was most manly boxing
throughout the whole of these rounds. O’Donnell
put in some good hits, and always had the best
of his opponent in throwing, but he never could
keep his head out of chancery. The seventeenth
round was truly desperate. O’Donnell repeatedly
attempted to go in, but was as repeatedly kept
out by a stopper on his nob. Holt put in six
facers without any return. The jaw of O’Donnell
was terribly battered, part of his chin laid
open, and a tremendous blow, put in under his
ear, brought out the claret instantaneously, and
his senses seemed almost beat out of him. He
could not come again.

Mr. Jackson made a collection of £9 to be
divided between them. This battle proved a treat
to the admirers of scientific boxing; so good a
fight restored good humour to the amateurs for
their disappointment at Hayes; and they retired
well satisfied. The ring was kept in good order,
although neither ropes nor stakes were used to
protect the men from the crowd. The unpropitious
state of the weather had not the least effect
upon the feelings of the spectators, who never
shifted an inch of ground in consequence of
being so drippingly assailed.

The friends of Holt, from his decisive victory over O’Donnell, and the general improvement which had taken place in his fighting, were induced to match him with a better man, and, on the 20th of May, 1817, the sporting world was on the _qui vive_ to witness the decision of the match between Harry Holt and the Nonpareil of the ring, the celebrated Jack Randall, who long preceded the subject of this sketch in his journey “to that bourne from whence no traveller returns.” Indeed, the friends of Holt and many of the most distinguished amateurs were much prepossessed in his favour, and, notwithstanding the known excellence of Randall, it was very generally thought that Holt would prove a worthy competitor. Coombe Warren was the _locus in quo_, and, on the appointed Wednesday, Colonel Berkeley (the late Earl), Captain Barclay, Mr. Jackson, and a muster of Corinthian patrons of popular sports, assembled at the above-named place. The combatants were equal in weight and height, namely, each about five feet six inches and a half, and ten stone two pounds to four pounds. Randall was backed by his patron Colonel Barton, and Holt by several amateurs of eminence. The stake was £50. This battle will be found in the Life of RANDALL, p. 332.

It was urged by many of Holt’s friends that he displayed no fight at all in this contest with Randall; but this complaint will vanish on a slight examination. Randall assumed the offensive throughout the battle, and his punishment was so electrifying and severe that he never gave Holt any opportunity of showing himself, save in the defensive department of fistic strategy. Holt did, in the earlier part of the battle, occasionally stop his opponent’s left; but the fact was, as Holt frequently afterwards observed, the fight was decisively hit out of him in the third round. Indeed, if Holt had not been a truly game man, he never could have stood before Randall twenty-five minutes, after the heavy milling he received at the outset, and in consequence of this opinion a few amateurs present collected £10, which they presented to him as the reward of his bravery.

After the battle between Turner and Cy. Davis at Wallingham Common, on Friday, June 18, 1819, a cessation of hostilities for upwards of an hour took place, during which period a purse was subscribed, but went begging for want of a couple of good ones. Sutton, the black, who had defeated the brave Ned Painter, wished to have a shy at Carter (once the _soi-disant_ Champion of England), but the latter boxer pleaded indisposition. Hall, Jack Martin (the Master of the Rolls), and others were named, but it was “no go.” At length Harry Holt, to adjust all difficulties, shied his castor into the arena for any ten stone man, declaring (unlike our cavilling pugilists, “those of the modern time”) that he was not nice to a few pounds. His challenge was speedily accepted by David Hudson. Randall and O’Donnell waited on Holt, and Josh. Hudson and Tom Owen upon David Hudson. The purse was 20 guineas, and the odds on Holt five to four.

The “game” of Holt had been proved on more than one occasion, and his character stood high as a neat stopper, a pretty rapid hitter, and a well-scienced man. He was not, however, by any means in condition, and had walked all the way from London that morning to see the first fight. Hudson, too, was out of condition; nevertheless, they set-to with a spirit which might put to the blush mills of far higher pretence and more careful and expensive preparation, Holt taking the lead, and nobbing Hudson down.

Harry contested this battle up to the eighty-ninth round, but he could not stand the hitting of Hudson, and went down repeatedly; while, on the contrary, Hudson seemed to be getting fresher, and often ran and jumped to get in at Holt. The latter would not give in, and he was taken out of the ring by the desire of a noble lord and other amateurs. The fight occupied an hour and three-quarters.

It was a most distinguished, capital fight on both sides, and, in a word, the men covered themselves with pugilistic glory. Holt was rather too stale for his opponent; he had also some of his teeth dislodged. A handsome subscription was made for Holt.

Holt now bade adieu to the ring, in which, if he had not done what Addison declares is not within the power of mortals, namely, “command success,” he had done more, “deserved it.” Time, however, and the Fates brought round another scrimmage in the shape of a room fight, with the never-to-be-forgotten Jack Scroggins, whose “ghost” long “revisited the pale glimpses of the moon” in the poetic gaggeries of _Bell’s Life_.

On the 30th of November, 1820, after a sporting dinner at Randall’s house in Chancery Lane, there arose a difference of opinion during a discussion of the merits of various pugilistic professors. Spring, Purcell, Randall, Martin, the Birmingham Youth, Holt, etc., being among the parties assembled. Among matches proposed and talked of, was one between Holt and Scroggins, to come off in some six weeks from the first “time of asking.” This delay, however, the time being eleven o’clock at night, and the spirits mounting, did not suit the desperate Scroggy, who delivered his ideas on the subject somewhat in the following form:—

“Why, as to that there matter, it ain’t no match between me and Holt; I can lick him like a babby. I never was so ill with a cold in my life; but I will fight him any time you like, but I’d rather it ’ud be now.”

Holt returned Scroggins thanks for his candour, but, in return, thought Scroggins would have no chance to win with him. Nevertheless, he too was of opinion that the best way would be to decide it instantly.

“I am ready,” said Scroggins; “but the winner shall have the whole of the purse.”

“I am agreeable,” replied Holt.

The usual preparations were made for the contest. Turner and Martin seconded Scroggins, and Purcell and Sampson were for Holt. Spring was the time-keeper. Five to four on Scroggins on one side of the room, and five to four on Holt among the other party.

In this affair Holt, after taking the lead in scientific style, received a heavy fall from Scroggy’s rush in the twenty-fourth round; up to that period Scroggy had all the worst of it. Harry’s constitution, however, could not stand the wear and tear, and, after thirty-three rounds, Sampson declared Holt should fight no more.

For two men out of condition, nay, both unwell, particularly Scroggins, it was a much better fight than has frequently been seen when boxers have been in training for six weeks. Scroggins had always some tremendous points about him. It was a most gallant battle on both sides; but the blows of Holt were not hard enough to stop the rush of Scroggins. The accident Holt received in the twenty-fourth round lost him the fight; and he also complained of a sprained thumb before he commenced the battle. In a ring, some of the amateurs thought Holt might have had a better chance. The smiles of victory, which had not been familiar to Scroggins in his last six battles, now seemed to give him new life. He was, however, in the most exhausted state; and nothing but a lack of the _physique_ to second his science and courage made Harry the loser of this most determined contest.

We here drop the curtain on the pugilistic career of Harry Holt, whereon, although the sunshine of victory seldom shone, he ever displayed, under the clouds of misfortune and ill-success, the brightest attributes of a British boxer, science, courage, self-possession, and honesty. “Some one must lose,” as a practical philosopher has remarked, and the mischances of war fell often and heavily on poor Harry. Henceforth his career was chequered and various in its character, sometimes basking in the sunshine of Dame Fortune, and at others reposing in the shade of her elder daughter, and tasting the bitters of vicissitude. He became publican, whether a “sinner” or not we will not take upon ourselves to state; but, as far as our experience has gone, the traits of his character were quite as estimable as any of those in whose sphere he moved. His early education enabled him to bring into useful operation the powers of his pen, and upon the retirement of Pierce Egan from the _Dispatch_, he was engaged by Alderman Harmer as the mentor of Mr. Smith, the new milling editor of that paper, now, like Harry, gone to that bourne from which no pugilist returns. Harry was found an excellent Asmodeus to Smith, and introduced him to all the eccentricities of London life, as well as to the mysteries of the London Ring, and found so apt a pupil that his _protegé_ was soon enabled to go alone, and to obtain for the _Dispatch_ a reputation for its advocacy of the sports of the ring, which it has long since lost, and which lies buried in the tomb of poor Smith. As a second in the ring, with his consummate judgment and “artful dodging,” Harry was only equalled by Tom Belcher and Dick Curtis; and these three men were always considered hosts of themselves in doubtful points, for, by their ingenious devices and careful husbanding the strength of their principals, they have frequently “brought their men through,” when the balance preponderated against them. In the course of his life Harry occasionally dealt in cigars and other “Parliament” commodities, and thus did his duty manfully for the support of a large family. He latterly devoted himself entirely to sporting literature, and proved himself a useful assistant to the _Era_ newspaper, in recording milling and pedestrian occurrences, always reporting faithfully and impartially, and displaying a knowledge of his profession, eminently useful in describing the “ins and outs” and “ups and downs” of a fight. His inevitable exposure in this vocation to the change of weather in every season of the year, whether on the land or the water, now sitting for three or four hours up to his fetlocks in snow or mud in a slimy marsh, and then scorched by the rays of a mid-day sun, and again at night breathing the fœtid atmosphere of some fancy “re-union,” gradually operated upon a constitution injured by early exertion, seized his lungs, and threw him into a rapid decline. His last appearance in the discharge of his vocation was at the fight between Heffernan and Scully, in the Marshes of Kent, on Tuesday, April 9, 1844, to and from which he was conveyed with great difficulty to the steamer, and thence home. While committing to paper the result of his observations, he received his last awful summons from “the grim king of terrors,” and handing his pen to his son, left him to give the finishing stroke to his report. He left behind him a widow and six children, one of whom, Alfred, succeeded to his father’s post of Ring reporter, firstly on the _Era_, and subsequently on a daily journal.[167] Holt was eminently known among his compeers for his “gift of the gab,” as it is vulgarly termed, hence his cognomen of “Cicero,” the speechmaking at benefits, etc., being entrusted to his care.

Would that he had left behind a goodly number of men in his profession, who, without his talents, were imbued with an equal share of honesty of purpose, integrity of conduct, and correctness in all the relations of life, both public and private; were such the case, the position of British boxers would not be degraded to the low ebb at which it stands at present. Highly respected by the patrons of the science of self-defence, and esteemed by many of the right sort yet remaining, his compeers in the ring, Harry Holt left behind him a name which may be envied by many of his fraternity who less deserve it.

WEST COUNTRY DICK, THE NAVIGATOR.—1816‒1820.

A more manly and courageous boxer was not to be found among the records of pugilism than this little hero. In a short period he fought no less than sixteen prize battles in gallant style, and the smiles of victory proved propitious to his exertions in twelve, Curtis, Gipsy Cooper, and Jack Randall ranking among his conquerors; defeat by such men being no dishonour.

Richard West was a native of Bedminster, in Somersetshire, and was born in the year 1794. At the period of his first battle he was in height five feet five inches and a half, and weighed nine stone and half a pound. Dick ranked more as an active boxer than a fine fighter, and was conspicuous for being a slashing hitter; considering his weight, he certainly used his right in a tremendous manner. His courage was of so superior a quality that it often prompted him to fight men much above his own weight. The most prominent of Dick’s battles were the following:—

Dick’s first attempt at prize milling was with a man denominated the Grabbler, in Tothill Fields. It was a desperate fight, and one hour and twenty minutes expired before Dick was declared conqueror.

A man of the name of Reeve was disposed of by Dick in the short space of six minutes, at Coombe Wood. It was a match for seven guineas a-side, Dick putting down his own stake.

A gardener, of good weight, fought with Dick at Moulsey Hurst. This was also a short battle; and, as before, the confidence of Dick again prompted him to back himself. He gained the victory in good style.

Dick next entered the lists with the determined Jack Curtis, whose fatal termination of his fight with Turner we have already noticed in that boxer’s life. Dick was defeated in fifty-eight minutes, his right hand being disabled by an accident.

For a trifling purse, to make up a second fight after Carter had defeated Robinson, the man of colour, in a match against time, at Coombe Warren, on Wednesday, June 26, 1816, Dick entered the ring with Jack Payne, the butcher, but, in the course of only four rounds, the latter was so satisfied that he declared he would fight no more, and left the ring.

Dick was at length matched with Charley Martin for the sum of 20 guineas a-side. This contest took place at Moulsey Hurst on Tuesday, August 22, 1816. It was a spirited battle on both sides, and reciprocal milling occurred during forty-seven rounds; but the severity of Dick’s hitting brought him through in fifty minutes.

Martin, not exactly satisfied as to the merits of the above battle, requested a second trial of skill, which being granted, he entered the ring with Dick, confident of recovering his lost laurels, on Thursday, February 13, 1817, at Coombe Warren, for 20 guineas a-side. Richmond and Eales seconded Martin, and Dick had for his attendants Oliver and Clarke. This second encounter was bravely contested for thirty-four rounds; and sharper milling, for the time it lasted, thirty-five minutes, had not been often seen; for the last six rounds Martin had not the least chance, and left the ring much punished. The Grand Duke Nicholas of Russia, the late autocrat of that mighty empire, who witnessed this battle, seemed much interested in the event, and made many remarks upon the courage displayed by both boxers.

Dick was now thought a competent match for the Nonpareil, Jack Randall, who defeated him in thirty-three rounds. See RANDALL, p. 330.

To make up for a wretched burlesque on scientific pugilism, which took place on Tuesday, December 23, 1817, at Coventry Farm, on the Hale, Middlesex, Dick was suddenly called upon to enter the ring with Street, for a subscription purse of 10 guineas. No delay occurred, and Dick, attended by his seconds, Paddington Jones and Ballard, and Street by Dolly Smith and Lancaster, appeared within the ropes at thirteen minutes to three o’clock, and fought as follows:—

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Dick’s right hand soon got into work,
and slightly nobbed his opponent. Street, in
returning, hit short. They immediately fought
their way into a close, and both went down. (Six
to four on Dick.)

2.—Dick, as usual, full of bustle, put in a
severe facer that made Street’s head shake
again; the latter, with much confidence, stuck
close to Dick, and gave him a sharp blow on the
shoulder. In closing, both down.