Chapter V (2)

During the whole of the night carriages filled with persons were on the road. An hour before daylight another magistrate arrived in Dunstable, in his gig, declaring himself a magistrate for three counties, and that no mill should take place in Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire, or Hertfordshire. On his meeting with Sampson, Phil promised the gent he would not exhibit in either of the proscribed counties. It therefore became necessary to hold a council of war. Sampson wished to proceed to Stony Stratford, as a spot where no interruption was likely to take place, but Pierce Egan, on whom the selection of the ground had devolved, decided for Middlesex, acting upon the articles agreed to, which stated the fight was to be within thirty miles of London. The office being given “towards home,” confusion began, and “The devil take the hindmost,” was the word. The northern stage coaches were all filled inside and out, for the sudden turn round had nearly thrown most of the passengers bound for the fight out of distance. All the post-chaises and horses had been previously hired, so nothing else was left to numerous persons, with plenty of cash in their purses, but to toddle for miles through mud, slush, and heavy showers, to the scene of action. It was truly laughable to see lots of heavy swells, with their thick upper toggery tucked up under their arms, trudging along as if pursued by an enemy, their brows covered with perspiration, and their hinder parts splashed with dirt. The muster of the motley group was immense, and the turn-out of Corinthians more numerous than had been seen for months past at a fight. A crowd of fours-in-hand, tandems, curricles, post-chaises and fours, cabriolets, gigs, drags, &c., were all trying to get the best of each other to be early on the ground, and so obtain a good place. At length Mimms Wash appeared in view, a large sheet of water, when Bill Gibbons dashed through the stream with as much _sang froid_ as if he had been crossing a kennel in the streets of London. “We are not going to be outdone by the Ould One!” exclaimed some costermongers, following Bill, and suffering for their temerity by going head over heels in the muddy water mixture, to the no small chaffing and laughter of the crowd. Several pedestrians, regardless of cold or consequences, waded the Wash with as much indifference as if it had been a summer’s day. A swell, who had plunged in up to his middle, invited his fellow-travellers to accompany him through the flood, exclaiming: “I’m a philosopher! Come along! Follow me. I’m not wet at all. You only _fancy_ it is water!” But even this logic had not the desired effect, and his companions preferred being conveyed across the Wash in a coach. The ring was soon made, upon a rising spot of ground in a field hard by, and at a quarter past two o’clock Sampson threw his hat into the ring, amidst loud cheers, followed by his second and bottle-holder, Jem Ward and Jem Burn. Neale soon afterwards repeated the token of defiance, attended by Josh Hudson and Harry Holt. Sampson deliberately tied his colours (pink) upon the stakes; and Holt placed the dark blue bird’s eye for Neale upon those of his opponent. The men were not long in peeling, and at twenty-five minutes after two they shook hands, and the battle commenced.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Both men appeared in excellent condition. Sampson was quite
tip-top, but Neale, it was thought, was not exactly weight—that is
to say, what he ought to have been—and the judges hinted he was
rather thin. The attitudes of the combatants claimed attention; in
fact, the contrast was singular. Neale held his left hand firmly
above his nob, operating as a kind of office that he was perfectly
aware of the danger of the Strong Man’s right mauley. Sampson’s
guard was low, but his ogles were on the alert, and he kept a good
look-out to do mischief. In most fights, the first round, if not
tedious, is generally expected to show superiority of science in one
of the men as the first blow is considered of consequence; but in
this instance it was extreme caution against extreme caution.
Sampson, however, had previously asserted that only let him have the
chance of getting Neale before him in the ring, and he would cut his
nob to pieces. Such is the difference between theory and practice;
Sampson soon found out the difficulty of going to work off-hand with
his clever opponent; and Neale, like that great master in the art of
war, the Duke of Wellington, was determined not to give away a
chance, and preferred the retreating system. Several minutes were
occupied in making offers, retreating, dodging, and pacing all over
the ring without any effect, Neale jumping back from every attempt
of Sampson. The goodness of Ned upon his pins attracted the
attention of all spectators. After numerous attempts to do “summat,”
Neale having retreated to a corner of the ring, Sampson went in and
planted a slight facer. Ned, having no opportunity to make a hit,
closed with his adversary. In struggling for the throw, Sampson down
and undermost. (The Streathamites opened their chaffing-boxes, and
gave him the benefit of their red rags, by repeated shouts of
approbation.)

2.—The left arm of Neale was again raised, and Sampson could not
make him out. The latter boxer did not at all seem prepared for the
mode of defence resorted to by his adversary. Neale, it should seem,
had made up his mind to a certain mode of fighting, and was not, by
any stratagem of Sampson, to be led away from it. Neal kept walking
round his adversary, anxious to obtain an opening, and retreating
when anything like danger showed itself. It was remarked by a
spectator that “if the one was afraid, the other dared not commence
fighting.” Several minutes passed away in looking at each other, and
in making feints. Phil at length went to work, but missed a slashing
hit, which was calculated to have done mischief. Neale returned, but
it was not effective. In closing, Neale threw Sampson heavily.
(“Bravo, Neale!” from his partisans.)

3.—Sampson eyed his opponent from head to foot. Both combatants were
tired of holding up their arms, or appeared to be so, and Sampson,
finding nothing was to be done, dropped his guard, and stood still.
Neale also crossed his arms, and viewed his opponent. In fact, it
was a complete suspension of hostilities—the spectators at length,
became impatient, and expressed their disapprobation. Each man
several times made himself up to do mischief, and every peeper was
upon the stretch to witness some hits, instead of which retreating
was again the order of the day. Sampson, in following Neale, got the
latter boxer again in the corner of the ring, when he hit out right
and left, and caught Neale on the mug, but Ned returned the
compliment. In closing, Sampson went down on his knees, and brought
down Neale with him. Odds were betted on Neale.

4.—“He’ll go to work soon,” said Ward, pointing to Sampson, “and
give Neale a slogger.” “I should like to see it,” said an old
ring-goer; “I never saw such a mill before!” “I call it anything but
fighting,” replied a third. The men looked at each other, and
Sampson, with all his cleverness and experience, could not put Neale
off his mode of fighting. An exchange of blows, but no mischief.
Sampson made a good stop, or his wind-market must have been
disturbed. Neale, however, got another turn, and planted a rum one
on Sampson’s canister. (Loud shouting from Neale’s friends.) Sampson
missed one of his wisty-casters at the nob of his opponent, or Ned’s
upper works might have been in chancery. In closing, Sampson
endeavoured to fib his adversary. Ned was thrown, Sampson uppermost.

5.—This was a short round. Neale rushed in and got Sampson down.

6.—A little bit of fighting this bout. Sampson tried all he knew,
but Neale would not be had, and got away from all his opponent’s
feints. After some manœuvring Sampson again had Neale in the corner
of the ring, and planted one of his heavy right-handed hits on his
temple. Ned for an instant appeared stunned, and fell on his knees,
but jumped up directly to renew the fight. Hudson, however, pulled
him down on his knee, and the round was finished.

7.—After some little dodging about the ring, each crossed his arms
and stood still. Barney Aaron begged the fight might be put off, and
begun again the next day with daybreak. “No, no,” exclaimed an Old
One, “recollect there’s moonlight.” “I am happy,” exclaimed Josh,
“that I am a patient man.” These, and a thousand such remarks,
occurred all round the ring, but still the combatants were not
roused into action. (“Come,” said Sampson to Neale, “why don’t you
fight?”—“When I like,” answered Ned; “you begin, I’ll soon be with
you.”) This round was tediously long. Counter-hitting, Neale planted
a sharp blow on Sampson’s nob, and the latter returned with his
right. (“He can’t make a dent in a pound of butter, Sampson. Go to
work, and hit him as you did me,” said Jem Burn.—“Be quiet,” said
Harry Holt; “look to your man. It’s as safe as if it was over.” This
latter remark seemed to make Sampson angry, and with a sneer he
observed, “What signifies what a fellow like you says?”—“I’ll give
you one presently for that,” answered Neale; “he is my second, so
you don’t like him.”) Neale napped a heavy one to all appearance on
his head; but Sampson received a smart body blow. A variety of
feints—great preparation—retreating, but no blows. In closing,
Sampson fibbed his antagonist slightly. Both down, Neale undermost.
The friends of Sampson here gave him a chevy for luck. During the
short space of time Neale sat upon Josh’s knee, he said to him,
“Sampson is but a light hitter.”—“Well, then,” replied the John Bull
Fighter, “there can be no mistake about your winning!”

8.—Sampson said “First blood!” pointing to a slight scratch near
Neale’s mouth. “Don’t be foolish,” replied Hudson; “it is only a
touch of the scurvy on his cheek—a pimple irritated.” Neale stopped
in style a tremendous right-handed hit. A pause. Sampson made a
stunning hit on the head of his opponent, which nearly turned Ned
round. (“What, you’ve caught it at last,” said Jem Ward, rubbing his
hands. “Another blow like that, and good night to you, Master
Neale.”—“Walker,” replied Josh. “Why, Jemmy, you are all abroad, to
talk so!”) In closing, Sampson obtained the throw.

9.—This was an excellent fighting round. After the numerous
standstills which had occurred—feints, getting away, &c.—Neale
seemed quite ripe for execution. Sampson received a rum one on his
listener, but returned cleverly on Neale’s index. Some good stopping
occurred upon both sides, and it appeared to the spectators that the
fight had just commenced. Neale stopped one of Sampson’s tremendous
right-handed hits so well that several persons exclaimed,
“Beautiful!” Sampson missed one or two blows. A short rally
occurred, when Sampson went down from a slight hit. Ned, as yet, had
scarcely the slightest mark of punishment. His friends were
satisfied he was so good upon his pins that he would wear out his
opponent if it came to staying.

10.—Neale saw an opening, and without hesitation turned it to his
advantage. He commenced milling with severity, and planted two good
hits. He also repeated the dose by a heavy right-handed hit on the
jaw of his opponent, which took Sampson off his legs as if shot. He
was picked up by his second like a log of wood. His eyes were
closed, and his nob was swinging on his shoulder as if it did not
belong to his body. “It is all U P,” was the cry—“the Strong Man is
done over.” Any odds in favour of Neale. Ward endeavoured to keep
Sampson’s head steady, and led him to the scratch.

11, and last.—Sampson appeared incapable of keeping his legs,
neither did he attempt to put up his arms. He was of no use. Neale,
by way of finisher, planted a light blow, and Sampson again measured
his length upon the grass. When time was called, Sampson did not
leave the knee of his second. Holt threw up the hat, and victory was
declared in favour of Neale; Sampson observing he would “fight no
more,” when asked by Ward, and requesting his second to take him out
of the ring. Neale jumped about the ground for joy, and soon left
the ring for London, neither fatigued nor hurt. Sampson was taken by
some of his Birmingham friends to Market Street. The fight lasted
one hour and six minutes.

REMARKS.—That this fight was not a good one was certainly not the
fault of Neale. He expected, from the boast of Sampson, that he
would go in and win off-hand, or fall in the attempt. Hence Ned’s
over-caution, as it proved. Neale never was a showy pugilist; on the
contrary, he was steady, cautious, and safe. Sampson, when he found
he could not confuse his man by impetuosity, fell off sadly, and the
affair, which it was anticipated would be a rattling fight, became a
tedious succession of bouts of sparring, with short intervals of
hitting, in which Neale was slowly but surely establishing his
superiority, and Sampson was beaten against his will.

Many of the friends of Cannon, the “Great Gun of Windsor,” were of opinion that their man was just the sort of pugilist to “make Ned fight.” Accordingly a proposal was made for a meeting for a stake of £200 a-side, and accepted by Neale. On Tuesday, February 20th, 1827, the men met at Warfield, in Berkshire. The morning was intensely cold, and both men appeared at the ring-side with their nobs covered with Welsh wigs, Neale having slept overnight at the “Crown,” in Windsor, and Cannon driven over from his training quarters, the New Inn, at Staines. The men shook hands with smiling cordiality, each assuring the other he “felt quite well.” The colours were then tied to the stakes, a blue bird’s-eye for Neale, and crimson with a white spot for Cannon. Peter Crawley and Harry Harmer waited upon Cannon, Harry Holt and Josh Hudson on Neale.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The Great Gun, on stripping, showed excellent condition;
but in spite of good skin training, age cannot be concealed; and
Cannon, according to the exclamation of “The Gas,” was “an old man.”
The fact is that Neale was not yet twenty-three years of age, while
Cannon had passed his _thirty-sixth_! Cannon appeared cheerful,
smiling, and confident. The body of Neale was covered with spots,
like a leopard—his condition was anything but good; he had a slight
cold, and his flesh was soft; yet the grand points in his favour
were youth, and a “heart in the right place.” On setting-to, Cannon
did not display that bull-dog sort of eagerness which characterised
his efforts in his second battle with the John Bull Fighter, but he
was upon the alert, ready to punish, and anxious to obtain an
opening. Cannon commenced offensive operations, but his wary
opponent “would not have it,” and got away. Cannon tried it again,
but it would not do; Ned endeavoured to plant a hit, but the Great
Gun was not to be had, and retreated from mischief. Sparring on both
sides, but no hitting. Neale at length went to work, and with his
left mauley slightly touched his opponent’s canister; Cannon
returned sharply. A short struggle occurred, and Cannon went down.

2.—The milling qualities of the Great Gun were prominent, and he was
upon the bustle to do business; but Ned was “up and dressed,” and
his left hand again told upon his opponent’s mug. Cannon was not
behindhand, and some sharp blows were exchanged. Milling on the
retreat (after Tom Cribb’s successful mode) was now adopted by
Neale; he planted a tremendous blow under the listener of his
adversary, and the claret followed profusely. If this heavy blow had
been a little lower, it might have been “Good night to the Great
Gun!” Cannon, rather confused and wild, rushed in to work—he
obtained the throw, Neale went down, and Cannon also; in falling,
his nob came in contact with the stakes. Neale was the hero of the
tale.

3.—Cannon, like nothing but a game man, appeared at the scratch
smiling. This was a short round. The Great Gun tried to fire a heavy
shot, and boldly went up to his man; but the Youth hooked him round
his neck, and endeavoured to fib. Cannon proved himself the stronger
man, got Neale down, and fell on him.

4.—The Streatham Youth got away from mischief, and made good use of
his pins. Some blows were exchanged, when they closed. A desperate
struggle occurred for the throw; both down, Neale undermost.

5.—The Great Gun, as gay as a lark, went to work, but napped a
conker; yet he would not be denied, and a sharp rally was the
result. Some heavy hits were exchanged: the fire proving too hot,
Ned turned round from mischief; the Great Gun pursued him, when
Neale turned and rushed to the attack; some clumsy thumps passed. In
closing, Ned had the best of it, but fell on his head. Neale was
much shaken by the fall.

6.—The Great Gun was all for fighting, and kept to his work. Neale
was ready, but nevertheless kept a good look-out. In a rally, both
their faces napped punishment, but Ned retreated in style. In
struggling for the throw, both down, Neale undermost.

7.—The weakness of the Streatham Youth was visible to his friends,
but they still felt satisfied he must win. A good rally, and Cannon
up to the mark, giving hit for hit. In closing, they both stood
still, trying to hold the hands of each other. Ned broke away, and
tipped it to Cannon in his victualling office; he ultimately
obtained the throw, and the Great Gun came down on his nob, a
shaker. (“Neale for a thousand!”)

8.—The Great Gun showed distress on appearing at the scratch. Ned
tried to be with him, but Cannon closed in by catching Neale round
the neck. The fibbing system was adopted by Ned, and upon Cannon
getting the worst of it he dropped upon his knees. The coolness of
Neale was here seen to great advantage; he was in the act of
hitting, when he stopped himself and held up his arms, amidst loud
cheers from all parts of the ring. (“Bravo, Ned! well done, it’s
manly!”)

9.—The Great Gun was rather unsteady; but his pluck was as good as
gold. The science of Neale gave him great advantages, although he
was out of condition; he watched the movements of Cannon with the
keen eye of a general till it answered his purpose to commence
fighting. Ned planted a facer, but Cannon countered. In closing,
holding of hands to prevent punishment was again the feature; and
Neale was so weak that he could not get the best of his opponent in
his usual workman-like style. The struggle became long and
desperate, when the Great Gun went down undermost.

10.—This round was all in favour of Ned. He planted a rum one on the
muzzle of the Great Gun, repeated the dose with his left, then
brought in his right to great advantage. In closing Cannon did his
best to grasp his opponent firmly; but Neale broke away cleverly,
and planted a heavy body blow with his right hand. Cannon fought his
way into another close; in struggling both down, the Streatham Youth
undermost.

11.—The Great Gun wanted breath, and sparred for time, but anxious
not to be idle, went to work. Ned was ready for him, and some blows
were exchanged. Cannon rushed in determined, as it were, to have the
fall. In struggling he threw his opponent, although he went down
himself. Neale’s nob came in sharp contact with the ground, his face
underwent a momentary change, and he appeared hurt by the fall. He
rested his head upon the back of his bottle-holder, and his friends
became alarmed for the consequences. But when time was called, he
was ready.

12.—Neale seemed anxious to recover the accident, and put in with
the utmost ease two teasers on Cannon’s nob, right and left, that
made his pimple shake again. A sharp rally followed, and “Jack was
as good as his master.” It was Millers’ Place, Cannon Row, and
Pepper Alley, all brought down from town. Neale had the worst of the
punishment; he, however stuck close to his man. Cannon was sent out
of the ropes, and Ned also went down.

13.—Good on both sides; Cannon always ready, and no flincher. In
fact, he appeared as cheerful as if he was at work on the river.
Neale got away from mischief, but Cannon would follow him, till a
rally was the result. In closing Cannon received a cross-buttock
that shook him seriously.

14.—Neale was much distressed, and the Great Gun tried to have the
best of him by bustling. In closing he got Neale’s nob under his
arm; and the latter, for a short time, could not release himself
from his perilous situation. (“Bravo, Cannon, now’s your time! you
have got him—don’t let him go!”) Cannon at length let Neale down.
The backers of the Great Gun flattered themselves the chance was in
their favour, and actually took him at evens.

15.—Neale, aware of his weakness, acted upon the defensive; and
Cannon went to work, as the best means to turn the tide. The Great
Gun, in closing, again caught hold of Neale, the latter trying to
hold the hands of his opponent. In this unpleasant situation, both
to themselves and the spectators, they continued for a minute, until
quite exhausted they both went down, Neale undermost; Cannon for
choice, and some were jolly enough to offer 5 to 4.

16.—The Great Gun, acting under the advice of his seconds,
endeavoured to have his opponent upon the bustling system, and went
to work. He bored Neale to the ropes, and here another disagreeable
struggle took place, both for a short time hanging upon the ropes,
till they fell outside of the ring. The Great Gun was undermost.
(“Cannon for ever!” was the cry. “He can’t lose it! The battle is
changed! 6 to 4 on the Great Gun!”)

17.—At the scratch Cannon appeared the fresher man of the two. Ned
was out of wind, and sparring was necessary for both. Neale tried
his right hand, but without effect. A cessation of arms for a short
period, and both on the look-out. Cannon at length rushed upon Neale
with an intent of punishment, but Ned, wide awake, retreated,
followed by his opponent. At the ropes Cannon went to work, but Ned
put on the stop capitally. The Streatham Youth broke ground, when
Cannon would not be denied, but he napped a facer. In closing Ned
threw Cannon, and fell upon him severely.

18.—The Great Gun, rather unsteady, bored in to punish his
adversary; but Neale, who was now getting better, made use of his
pins to great advantage, and got away with ease. One severe facer
Cannon napped, a second followed without any return, and a third
finished the round, the claret running from Cannon’s nose, when he
fell exhausted. (Loud shouting for Neale, and 6 to 4 on him.)

19.—Cannon was game to the backbone, and appeared at the scratch
like a trump. Neale, with great judgment, made himself up to do
something good; he viewed his adversary well, then let fly a
tremendous nobber, which sent Cannon staggering back to the ropes;
Ned followed him and threw him heavily.

20.—Neale was on his mettle; he commenced play with his right with
good effect, and Cannon’s nob met punishment. The Great Gun was now
reduced to a little gun, nevertheless he showed fight like a brave
man, by returning hits. Ned put in another severe facer, and in
closing Cannon went down on his back, Neale upon him. (2 to 1, and
no takers.)

21.—Cannon came up quite groggy, but the fight was not out of him.
The courage and game he displayed were admirable, and he earned the
praise of all spectators. But in boxing term he was of “no use.” Ned
put in a nobber that almost stunned him, and Cannon staggered about
like a drunken man. In closing, Ned again obtained the throw, and
the fall was indeed severe. Cannon lay on the ground, declining to
be lifted up till the call of “time.”

22, and last.—The Great Gun came up like nothing but an
out-and-outer, but his shot was not point-blank, and he swerved and
reeled unsteadily. Neale put in a left-handed push, when the Great
Gun rolled through the ropes and fell outside. He was in a state of
stupor. His seconds brought him into his corner, but while they were
busy the umpire declared he had not answered the call of “time.” The
referee agreed, and the victory was declared to Neale. The battle
lasted only thirty minutes. Neale cut several capers at the
announcement, and returned to his carriage, while the defeated man
was taken to his quarters at Staines.

REMARKS.—The report here given leaves little room for comment.
Cannon, whose courage had “moulted no feather,” was beaten by
freshness, activity, and a better style of boxing than his own. This
was his last fight, and thus, after his defeat by Jem Ward, the once
formidable bargeman, like many another champion who has “trusted to
the energy of a waning age,” furnished one more instance of the
truism that “youth will be served.”

At Sam Tebbutt’s opening dinner on the occasion of his taking the “Bull’s Head,” Saffron Hill (another of the demolished purlieus of Old Smithfield), Uncle Ben expressed his “Nevvy’s” desire to meet Neale once more in the lists, provided Ned would deposit £250 against £200 of “mine uncle’s” money. Neale closed with the proposal, and posted £10, but Neale’s principal backer considering the conditions imprudent, he wrote from Brighton, whither he had gone, forfeiting the £10 down.

A few weeks afterwards, however, articles were signed at the “Castle,” Holborn, for Neale to fight Jem Burn, £120 to £100, and the day fixed for Tuesday, Nov. 13th, 1827. So confident was Neale of the result that he named Monday, Nov. 12th (the day before the fight), for his benefit at the Tennis Court. After the sparring, Neale, accompanied by Harry Holt, started for Bagshot, to be near the proposed field of action.

Early on Tuesday morning the road to Staines was covered with all sorts of vehicles from London, and Shirley’s, the New Inn was overflowing with first-rate company. Winkfield Plain, in Berkshire, was the spot in view, and the fancy lost no time in surrounding the ring. Near the appointed hour Jem Burn threw his hat into the ropes, accompanied by Tom Belcher and Tom Cannon as his seconds. Neale was close at his heels, and delivered his tile with the utmost confidence, attended by Josh Hudson and Harry Holt. The colours—blue, with a white spot, for Ned, and a Belcher handkerchief for Burn, were tied to the stakes. The men shook hands smilingly, and at eight minutes past one commenced

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On peeling, Jem looked the picture of health. He weighed
thirteen stone, and was three inches taller than his adversary.
Neale did not exactly answer the expectations of his friends; he
looked pale, and his back and bosom were covered with a scorbutic
eruption. Ned did not exceed twelve stone. He held his left hand
remarkably high in defence, and in every other point seemed prepared
for attack. Burn kept manœuvring to obtain an opening, but Neale was
too wary to give a chance away. Jem at length let fly at the body,
but Neale was away. Jem then tried left and right, but Neale, as
before, got out of mischief. Burn, puzzled, made another attempt
with his left hand, which alighted slightly on Ned’s left ogle.
Neale, in return, endeavoured to plant a heavy right-handed hit on
the nob, but it fell short on the shoulder. Burn, anxious to do some
execution, again let fly right and left, but out of distance. Ned
took advantage of the mistake, went in to his man, and by a heavy
right-handed blow on the side of his head, floored Burn like a shot.
First event for the Streatham Youth.

2.—Jem came well up to the scratch, and commenced offensive
operations right and left, but Ned, laughing, said it was “no go,”
and got out of the way of mischief like a skilful tactician, yet
instantly returned to the attack, when Jem napped another floorer,
to the great joy of the Streathamites. The Yorkites began to look
blue.

3.—Jem could not measure his distance, and again threw his blows
away, when Neale went in to punish _sans cérémonie_. (“Hit with
him,” says Tom Belcher. “Yes,” replied Josh, “he will get much the
best of that.”) Burn stopped some hits, and returned on Neale’s nob.
The latter, however, soon resumed the lead. Jem was once more sent
down with comparative ease, and Neale rested himself on his second’s
knee.

4.—Short but sweet to the Streatham Youth; Jem could not plant his
blows, when Neale put in a throttler which sent Burn down in a
twinkling. It is impossible to describe the exultation of the
friends of Neale. Two to one offered.

5.—This was more a wrestling than a fighting round; both combatants
were down side by side.

6.—Neale seemed perfectly awake to every move of his adversary, and
got out of trouble with the utmost _sang froid_. In closing, Jem
struggled hard, and both down.

7.—Jem endeavoured to plant two well-meant hits, but the science of
Neale rendered them harmless. After a little manœuvring, Ned went to
work, when Jem was soon sent down on his latter end.

8.—Jem had a small slice of luck at the opening of this round, by
planting a left-handed hit on the right peeper of Neale, which
produced a slight tinge of the claret. (“First blood,” was claimed
by the friends of Jem, but the Streatham Youth laughed, and said, “I
shall soon make that even.”) A sharp rally concluded the round, in
which Jem threw many blows away, while Ned administered pepper until
Jem went down staggering.

9.—Burn endeavoured to do something, but his blows generally fell
short. Ned was always with his adversary upon the slightest mistake,
and Jem was ultimately down.

10.—This was a well-fought round on both sides. Jem’s right hand
told on the side of Ned’s head, and several other blows of Burn were
also planted with effect, when Ned fell on the ropes and went down.
(“Go along, Jem! that’s the way to win! Keep it up, my lad,” from
his backers.)

11.—Burn put on the stopper well; and in closing Burn got down
cleverly from the fibbing system attempted by his adversary.

12.—The nob of Jem looked rather the worse for wear; but he planted
some slight facers. Neale fought his way into a rally, had the best
of it, and in closing Burn was down.

13.—Jem went to work rather wild, but planted a hit or two. Ned,
however, was with him, and dropped Burn by a blow in the mouth, like
a shot.

14.—This round proved extremely serious to the Burnites. The
combatants soon got into a rally, in which the blows of Neale
operated like cannon-shot, till Jem was quite abroad, and went down
of no use. (This severe punishment operated so severely upon the
feelings of Uncle Ben that he fell on his back on the ground
dreadfully convulsed. Several men who immediately ran to render
Uncle Ben assistance could scarcely hold him during the time he was
bled by a surgeon. On his recovery, he was immediately conveyed to
Staines, and put to bed in a very exhausted state of body and mind.)

15.—Jem appeared at the scratch quite in a groggy state. The
pepper-box was again administered in the most effectual manner by
Neale; resistance seemed almost out of Jem’s power, until he once
more measured his length on the grass.

16.—Burn could not measure his distances, and fought wildly. Ned had
it all his own way, punishing right and left, until Jem was down.

17, 18, 19.—In all these rounds Jem not only napped it in all manner
of directions, but was sent down.

20.—Burn missed a well-aimed left-handed blow at the head of his
opponent, when Neale, in return, planted a tremendous hit on his
sensitive box, which not only produced the claret freely, but
floored him. (Any odds, but no takers.)

21.—The quality of game could not be denied to Jem; he stood and
took the milling like a receiver-general. He was knocked off his
pins without any ceremony.

22.—The left hand of Neale met Jem bang in the middle of the head,
which produced the claret in torrents, as he measured his length on
the grass.

23.—Jem hit down before he had scarcely got up his arms.

24.—Jem slipped down by accident.

25.—Burn was piping, and almost abroad; but Belcher was on the alert
to keep Jem at his work. (“Be ready, my dear boy,” cried Tom; “hit
with him, he’s coming.” “Yes,” replied the John Bull Fighter, “Ned
is coming, and your man will soon be going—or rather, like the
auctioneer, gone!”) Neale received a facer which produced the
claret; but he returned the favour with interest, and Jem was again
sent down.

26.—Jem now tried desperate fighting, hitting away in all
directions; but Ned was too leary. The latter boxer got a stopper on
the nob; but Jem was again down. (“You must admit, gents,” observed
the elegant Holt, “that Jem is a _down-y_ one; he has been down
almost to the end of the chapter. The finish is also near at hand.
I’ll bet any odds.”)

27, 28, 29, 30.—In all of these rounds the lead and punishment were
decidedly in favour of Neale, and Jem was sent down in every one of
them.

31.—Jem showed fight, and planted a facer; but it was too slight to
do anything like damage to Neale. The latter followed Jem all over
the ring, until he sent him down. (Tom Cannon, by way of raising the
spirits of Burn, said, “He can never lick you, Jem.” “Yes,” replied
Ned, “and you afterwards, and no mistake; and I’ll try it, if you
like.”)

32, 33, 34, 35, 36.—It is true that in some of these rounds Jem
planted facers which produced the claret, but he could not turn a
single round in his favour. Ned was continually administering
punishment, and Jem was down in all of these rounds. (“Take him
away!”)

37.—Jem was cruelly distressed, but he would not say “no,” and
showed fight at the scratch. He napped lots of milling in a rally,
and went down as heavy as lead. (“Take him away! he’s of no use!”)

38.—Down, and no return; so much did Neale show his superiority over
Jem.

39.—Of the same class; he appeared at the scratch only to be milled
down. (“It’s a shame to bring him up! Take him home, Belcher!”)

40.—Burn, almost as a forlorn hope, went to work with more spirit
than could have been expected from his exhausted state, and planted
several hits in better style than in most of the preceding rounds;
but this exertion was now too late, and he was milled down flat on
his face. (The cries were extremely loud: “Take him away; you’ll be
lagged else.” “Why don’t you listen to the advice of your friends,”
said Josh, “if you wish to prevent serious consequences to
yourselves?”)

41.—It was all the cash in the Bank to a ninepence that Jem must
lose it; in fact, his backers and seconds ought to have had him
taken out of the ring. Jem down, with his face on the earth.

42.—Nearly U P; Burn was down as soon as he appeared at the scratch.

43, and last.—Jem could scarcely show at the scratch, he was so
completely exhausted. He staggered about like a drunken man, when
Neale did little more than push him down. It was all over; and when
picked up by Tom Belcher, his head fell on his shoulder, and he was
insensible. The fight continued forty-six minutes. Jem was bled on
the ground; nevertheless, he remained in a state of stupor for
several minutes. He was severely punished about the head, while
Neale was scarcely the worse for the fight. In truth, so little did
he care for the punishment he had received that he offered to fight
Tom Cannon off-hand, for £100 a-side, and it was a matter of
difficulty that Neale’s friends made him quit the ring. £7 10s. only
were collected on the ground for Jem Burn.

REMARKS.—The perusal of the rounds of the above battle are so
decisive in themselves as scarcely to require any observation. Ned
had it all his own way, from the beginning of the fight to the end
of the contest. His superior confidence, united with the science
which was conspicuous in every round, pronounced him a master of the
art of self-defence. Coolness is a winning faculty on the part of
Neale, who possesses it in an eminent degree. Jem fought bravely, no
one can deny; but contending in long blows instead of close quarters
rendered his blows non-effective, and he was completely beaten at
out-fighting. It is, however, due to Jem Burn to state that he
contested every inch of ground like a man of the highest courage. He
would not say no, and refused to be taken away, which he might have
done without compromising his character as a pugilist. He never left
the scratch until nature had deserted him; and the best man in the
world must, like Jem, submit to the fortune of war. Neale, in this
conquest, obtained in such a superior style, placed himself high in
the ranks of pugilism; and his backers entertained so high an
opinion, not only of his talents, but of his integrity and thorough
trustworthiness, that it was resolved to match him against the
accomplished Jem Ward.

The very next day, at Burn’s benefit at the Tennis Court, Neale, whose face was but slightly disfigured, mounted the stage after the principal bout, between Jem Ward and big Bob Burn, in which Jem sent the burly one off the platform with surprisingly little damage to his sixteen stone carcass, and presented himself to the amateurs. He offered, such was the readiness of good men in those days, to meet Baldwin for £250 to £200 or £500 to £400, that day week, or that day month, or two months, at his option; or he would fight Tom Cannon, Reuben Martin, or any twelve stone man in England, for any sum they pleased; or he would fight the three men named within three months, with a month’s interval. This sweeping challenge brought up Ned Baldwin, who said he was not at that moment prepared to make a match, but would appoint an evening for the purpose, and give Neale notice to attend. Tom Cannon next showed. “Gentlemen,” said the Windsor Gun, “I am out of condition, and both my shoulders are bad. I have now plaisters on my chest. But I hope to be well by April, when Neale shall not want a customer.”

At a sporting dinner on Thursday, Nov. 22nd, 1827, at Sam Tebbutt’s, the “Bull’s Head,” Peter Street, to celebrate Neale’s victory, Ned was surrounded by backers and friends. The chairman (Pierce Egan) reviewed the victorious career of Neale, stating his battles, and that his name had never yet been associated with defeat—that he had proved himself as honest as he was brave, a dutiful son, an affectionate brother, a kind-hearted husband, and a sincere friend—in short, a true man in all the relations of life. He therefore proposed a subscription to present him with a silver cup of the value of one hundred guineas, as a testimony to his upright and brave conduct. The proposition was agreed to, and twenty-one guineas subscribed in the room.

The subject of a match between Jem Ward and Ned Neale was on the carpet at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, on Tuesday, Nov. 20th, 1827, when two gentlemen posted £5 a-side, to be made £100—£15 a-side to be posted the next evening. On the Wednesday Neale’s backer announced that he had not been able to see Neale, and wished a postponement; but Ward’s friend claimed forfeit, and it was paid over accordingly. £20 was then deposited by a friend of Neale’s, to be made £200 if Neale consented to fight Ward in two months—the money to be returned (less half-a-dozen of wine) in the event of Neale’s non-compliance. On Friday, Nov. 23rd, an immense assemblage of the fancy took place at the “Castle,” when, Jem Ward not being present (he did not appear during the whole evening), forfeit was claimed. The gentleman who backed Ward demurred, stating he knew Jem was ready to go on with the match, and he was ready with a further deposit. Neale, who was in attendance, said, as the deposit had been made to fight for £200 within two months, he must decline complying with those terms. He did not think he could get into sufficient condition to meet such a man as Jem Ward, and he was resolved never to peril his own reputation, and the interest of his friends, by entering the ring unfit. The deposits were hereupon drawn.

Ned Baldwin now offered himself once again to Neale’s notice for £150 a-side. To this Neale replied, offering to fight Baldwin, as once beaten, for £250 to £200. Articles were formulated and signed, and Tuesday, March 11th, 1828, fixed as the day. Baldwin left town for Leicestershire to train. Here a trivial occurrence had well-nigh wrecked Baldwin’s chance and money, as will be seen by the subjoined letter to the editor of the _Weekly Dispatch_:—

London, _Feb._ 2nd, 1828.

“SIR,—On my return from Melton Mowbray I was sorry to find my
character had been assailed by a Leicester paper, in which my
conduct has been entirely misrepresented. I refer to the account of
a dispute which took place between two respectable coach
proprietors, who, I hope, have settled their differences amicably.
It is stated I took an active part in the ‘disturbance.’ Now, sir,
the truth is that I was merely a passive spectator of the quarrel,
and never interfered by word or act—in fact, I was equally a friend
to both parties. Like others, I laughed, but knew my situation too
well to interfere. I knew that I was backed against Ned Neale, and
that by joining in such a dispute I should be ‘throwing a chance
away’—conduct of which even my enemies would scarcely accuse me. For
being present, however, I was taken before a magistrate, and held to
bail till the sessions, which will be held at the beginning of
April; but even this fact did not justify the false statement to my
prejudice made in the _Leicester Herald_. However, as my
recognisances only stand good till the sessions, I shall continue to
make my deposits with Ned Neale good; and I have too much reliance
on his honourable feeling not to believe, even if I am obliged to
put our meeting off for a month, that he will willingly grant me
that time. He has said that he means fighting, and so do I; and as
the articles express that the stakes shall remain till we have
fairly decided who is the best man, upon that understanding I mean
to act. I shall attend with my backers at Tom Cribb’s, on Tuesday
next, with the needful, and hope to meet my antagonist on friendly
terms. With regard to the worthy magistrate who held me to bail, I
have no doubt he felt he was justified; but when my trial takes
place, I shall be able to prove my entire innocence of any illegal
act whatever. By my profession, if fighting a few battles can be so
called, I have been taught to love ‘fair play.’ I know enough of the
sporting gentlemen of Leicestershire to believe that they are equal
admirers of that truly British characteristic; and I rest perfectly
satisfied that I shall not be sacrificed to any unjust prejudice
which may have been excited against me from my being a member of the
P. R.

“Yours respectfully,
“EDWARD BALDWIN.”

On Tuesday evening, the 5th of February, the time appointed for making the fifth deposit, the “Union Arms,” in Panton Street, was overflowing at an early hour. Neale and Baldwin were both present, and on “time” being called, both said their money was ready. Baldwin, alluding to the late unfortunate affair at Leicester, although perfectly innocent of any act of disorder whatever, said he had been held to bail to appear at the sessions, and also during the intervening period to keep the peace towards all His Majesty’s subjects. This was an event which he had not foreseen, and he hoped Neale would liberally assent to the match being postponed for such a time as would allow him to appear at the sessions, when he should be enabled to show that he had been the victim of prejudice. Neale had said he meant fighting; so did he, and he hoped the stakes would be permitted to remain till the event came fairly off.

Neale said he was willing to give his antagonist every indulgence, and to meet his wishes to the fullest extent.

The articles were then altered according to the new arrangement, the men to fight for an even £250 a-side, and the match fixed for the 22nd of April. If Baldwin should be bound in recognisances at that time, he would pay Neale’s expenses to go to France; and if imprisoned, he would agree to forfeit £200 of the stakes down. With this all parties were satisfied, and Baldwin was applauded for the spirit he had displayed.

On Tuesday evening, March 4th, 1828, a meeting was held at Harry Holt’s for the purpose of making good the last deposit towards the £250 a-side. Neale’s money was ready, but Baldwin had been disappointed in the expected arrival of a friend, who was to have posted a portion of the needful on his behalf. Neale said that he would not claim the forfeit. The word of a gentleman being therefore given that the required sum should be placed in the hands of the stakeholder in the course of a week, it was considered as understood that the whole of the money was made good. Another alteration was then made in the time of fighting. Baldwin remarked that the 22nd of April (the day then fixed) was in the week appointed for the Newmarket meeting, and this might prevent many of the turf men from being present. Baldwin therefore proposed an adjournment of the fight for a week. Neale said a week would make no difference to him; but if he acceded to Baldwin’s wishes, he ought to have the right to name the place of meeting. To this Baldwin at once agreed, and it was therefore arranged that the fight should stand over to the 29th of April, and that Neale should have the right to say “where.” Ill luck, however, pursued the fixture; and on Thursday, April 29th, 1828, many hundreds left London, and returned, few of them until the next day, after a weary journey to Liphook, in Hampshire, thence to Guildford and Godalming, to find that warrants against Neale and Baldwin were out in Surrey, Sussex, and Hampshire. A move into Berks was decided on, and Bagshot made the rendezvous. Here, at Hatchard’s Lane, in the parish of Wingfield, the ring was pitched, and shortly after Neale arrived in the carriage of his patron, Mr. Sant. Ned quietly alighted, and threw his hat into the ring, attended by his seconds, Josh. Hudson and Harry Holt. Bob was equally on the alert, and repeated the token of defiance, followed by Peter Crawley and Dick Curtis. Bob won the toss, when the colours were tied to the stakes, a bright purple for Baldwin and a dark blue bird’s-eye for the Streatham Youth. The betting was seven to four on Neale. At half-past one o’clock the fight commenced:—

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The condition of Neale appeared good on stripping, but a
few of his friends thought he was rather too fat, and blotches on
his body were, as usual, prominent; Bob was also well, but he looked
pale. Ned was confident, and after a little manœuvring for the first
advantage, Bob hit out with his right, but Ned was leary, and it
fell short; Bob then commenced the bustling system, when a few blows
were exchanged. In closing Bob napped one on his cheek as he was
going down. Neale fell on him. “Well done, Neale!”

2.—Bob, still on the bustle, hurried to his work, but again hit out
of distance and fell on his hands. Ned missed a heavy upper-cut with
the right, that might otherwise have done mischief.

3.—Both hit short. Baldwin missed in a second attempt; but Ned
planted a nobber, then went to work in right earnest, and not only
put in a teaser on the side of Bob’s head, but closed and gave the
white-headed one a cross-buttock.

4.—Bob planted a slight facer, but received a severe return. In
closing, Ned fibbed his opponent, and then threw him like a
first-rate wrestler.

5.—On Neale’s coming to the scratch, Curtis claimed “first blood”
from Ned’s nose, but the umpires could not perceive it. This was a
short round, facers on both sides, the White-headed one again
thrown.

6.—Ned planted two severe facers; Baldwin, in return, hit out
wildly, and lost his distance. Neale repeated the dose on the left
ear of Bob, which produced the claret, and the event of first blood
was decided in favour of Neale. In closing Baldwin got down
skilfully to prevent being thrown.

7.—The right hand of Neale again told, but in struggling for the
fall Ned was undermost. “Bravo, Bob!”

8.—Nothing. Both men hit out of distance, when Bob ran in wildly
after his adversary, missed him, and fell.

9.—Bob fond of bustling, but in rushing in he napped a snorter, the
claret following the blow. In going down Neale was successful in
planting two hits.

10.—This round looked like fighting; both men were on their mettle,
and anxious to do mischief. Ned’s right hand told—ditto, ditto, and
ditto; yet Bob was not idle, and returned well; nevertheless,
Baldwin was hit down. (“It’s as right as the day,” said the John
Bull Fighter; “Ned’s turned auctioneer; he knocked down the last lot
cleverly, and Mr. Baldwin bought it.”)

11.—The right hand of Bob would have been mischievous if he could
have timed his blows; but he appeared so much in a hurry that they
fell short. Baldwin put in a heavy body blow, but was thrown.

12.—Ned took the lead, and nobbed his adversary; Bob, endeavouring
to return, missed. In closing, Baldwin slipped on his knees. Ned
threw up his hands and walked away, amidst thunders of applause.

13.—Neale again had it all his own way; he threw Baldwin. Four to
one and no takers, so satisfied were the spectators that Neale would
prove the conqueror.

14.—Baldwin’s left hand told on Neale’s cheek, but the latter
countered with effect. Bob received another severe cross-buttock.

15.—Bob could not change a single round in his favour, hitting
wildly, and quite out of distance. He received a heavy blow on the
nose. In closing Bob was thrown on the ropes.

16.—Bob did not heed scientific movements; he endeavoured to
overwhelm Neale by bustling in helter-skelter, missed his aim, and
fell.

17.—Of no importance. Bob piping. Ned planted his right hand. In
closing, both down.

18.—A straight facer, and ditto by Neale, Bob returning as wild as a
novice. Baldwin thrown.

19.—Bob had a small turn in this round. He planted a heavy hit on
the left peeper of Neale, and another blow, which produced the
claret on Neale’s cheek. In going down Neale was undermost. (“That’s
the way to win,” said Dick Curtis; “wait for him and make your right
tell.”)

20.—Both milling, counter-hits. Bob tried the bustling system again,
and bored Neale down. (“Well done, Bob!”)

21.—Bob stopped Ned’s left hand cleverly, and gave Neale a teaser on
his left eye. In struggling for the throw, both went down.

22.—This was a milling round. Bob seemed steadier, and returned hit
for hit; but Neale planted a tremendous blow on his opponent’s left
eye, and threw him cleverly.

23.—Ned got out of mischief like an able tactician. He, however,
soon returned to the charge, and with his right floored the
White-headed one. This was the first knock-down blow.

24.—Bob came to the scratch rather abroad; he ran in wildly,
slipped, caught hold of Ned, and fell on his knees. Neale again
walked away, receiving lots of applause for his forbearance. In
fact, he actually helped him up, which kindness Baldwin returned by
a shake of the hand.

25.—Bob, full of pluck, fought his way into a spirited rally, and
give and take was the feature for a short period, until Ned finished
the round by giving Bob a severe cross-buttock.