Chapter V (3)

26.—Bob commenced fighting as wild as ever. Ned endeavoured to stop
his rush, when Bob slipped down with his hands up. Neale, though in
the act of hitting, restrained himself, to prevent anything foul.

27.—Ned planted his right and left with success, Bob hitting out of
all distance, as heretofore. In closing both down.

28.—Baldwin retreated to the ropes, followed by Ned. In closing at
the ropes Neale tried fibbing, and also threw Bob.

29.—Had Baldwin steadied himself, and measured his distance, he
could not have thrown so many right-handed hits away. Ned planted
some slight taps, when both went down.

30.—The blows of Ned did not appear to do so much execution as
heretofore; his friends thought he hit with his left hand open;
Baldwin was met in his rush by a flush hit on his nob. In closing,
Ned went down.

31.—Baldwin, by a sort of scrambling hit, felt for the left peeper
of Neale, but the latter made good his right and left. In closing,
both down.

32.—Neale again triumphant. He went up, _sans cérémonie_, to
Baldwin’s nob, and floored him. (A tremendous shout of applause from
all parts of the ring.)

33.—Decidedly in favour of Neale; the right hand of the latter told
with severity on Baldwin’s already damaged listener; another
desperate cross-buttock closed the round against Baldwin.

34.—The game exhibited by Bob was loudly praised; both men were
fighting at points in this round. The advantage, however, was on the
side of Neale, and Bob was ultimately thrown out of the ropes.

35.—Counter-hits. In closing, both went down; Neale struck his nob
rather in an awkward manner.

36.—In spite of all the advice given by Dick Curtis to Bob he would
still rush forward to attack his adversary. Ned, like a skilful
general, got out of the way of danger, rendering the attempts of
Baldwin abortive. Bob was thrown.

37.—The rounds now were short. Ned hit right and left, but not
severely. Both down.

38.—Neale took the lead, and planted several hits; both again went
down.

39.—Baldwin almost ran in to punish his adversary, which Neale
perceiving stepped aside nimbly, and Bob fell.

40.—Up to this period of the battle Neale was the favourite. The
latter got away from Bob’s fury, and in closing Baldwin was thrown.

41.—Bob got a small turn in his favour in this round. It is true he
was the most punished, but he did not appear reduced much in
strength. Bob again missed with his right; but in closing he made a
desperate effort, and threw Neale a severe cross-buttock. (The
friends of Bob gave him thunders of applause, and the disinterested
spectators were not backward in crying out, “Bravo!”)

42.—Both men countered well; and after a long struggle, in closing,
both down.

43.—(“Hit with your right hand,” said Dick, “and the battle must be
your own. Don’t run at your man like a mad bull.”) But all advice
was thrown away—Bob acted as heretofore, when Ned got neatly out of
trouble. Baldwin received a heavy right-hander on the side of his
head, which he endeavoured to return with his left; in so doing he
fell on his knees, but instantly jumped up to renew the fight, when
Ned obtained the throw.

44.—Ned made play with his right hand, but Bob was again on the
bustle, and in struggling for the throw got Neale down.

45.—This was a short but busy round. Both on the
alert—counter-hits—a rally, and in closing for the fall, Ned was
thrown.

46.—Ned, as if determined to finish off his man, went to fight,
_sans cérémonie_. He caught Baldwin on the right side of his nob,
threw him a heavy cross-buttock, and fell over him.

47.—Neale’s right and left told; Bob bored in, caught hold of his
adversary, and fell on his knees. Ned, instead of punishing him,
patted Baldwin on the back, and once more walked to the knee of his
second, amidst uproarious applause.

48.—Neale took the lead right and left. Bob, wild at such treatment,
closed, and got Neale down.

49.—A fighting round; capital counter-hits. Bob received so severe a
facer that he went down like a spinning-top.

50.—The game displayed by Baldwin was the admiration of the
spectators; his mug was punished, and his eyebrow badly damaged. Ned
took the lead; and Bob, anxious to return, fell in the attempt.

51.—Bob was piping, and rather abroad; nevertheless his right hand
was always dangerous; he was again unlucky in his distance. Ned
planted his right hand, and Bob found his way to grass.

52.—Bob without delay fought into a rally, when Ned got out of
trouble by turning round, but immediately resumed milling. In
closing, Bob obtained the throw, and Neale came heavily down on his
neck.

53.—Bob was no sooner at the scratch than he rushed in without any
system, and succeeded in getting Neale down.

54.—The execution of Neale was not so severe as in the early part of
the battle; and his left hand was open. In closing, Baldwin obtained
the fall.

55.—Each trying for the best; stopping and hitting until both down.

56.—Neale appeared angry, and did not deliver his blows so steadily
as heretofore. In closing, Baldwin found himself on the turf.

57.—The left hand of Neale was a little puffed, but he planted his
right severely. Both down.

58.—Bob now stood higher in the opinions of the spectators; his
strength was not so much reduced as might have been expected; but
high odds were still offered on Neale. In closing, both down, and
both weak.

59.—Baldwin certainly appeared better, and did not pipe so much as
he had done in several of the preceding rounds. Neale went to work
right and left, Bob endeavouring to be with him, but Ned obtained
the throw.

60.—Bob left all system out of the case, and hit in all directions.
Exchanges, when Bob, in closing, almost pinned Ned to the ground by
superior strength.

61.—Counter-hits, Baldwin soon down.

62.—The right of Neale told: but with his left he could not do any
execution. Bob went down from a slight hit.

63.—Baldwin crept into favour with the spectators this round, by the
game he displayed, and his determined mode of fighting. Ned made
play, but Bob was with him; and some smart exchanges took place. In
closing, after a severe struggle, Bob got his opponent down.

64.—Bob, revived by a nip of _eau-de-vie_, planted his right well;
but Ned countered, and mischief was done on both sides. Bob pushed
on his luck, and boring in, laid hold of Neale by the neck, and in a
severe struggle for the fall the Streatham hero received a dangerous
twist, and fell in a singular manner. Ned was quite abroad for a few
seconds. Dick Curtis exclaimed, “We have won it!” The anxiety of the
spectators was intense; but Ned revived, and was ready at the
scratch when time was called.

65.—Neale was distressed by the late fall, but he began his work
well. Some sharp counter-hits. In closing, Bob again tried for the
throw, but he was not so successful. Neale punished Baldwin as he
was going down.

66.—The White-headed One was kept on the alert by his admirable
little second, Curtis, and slashed away like a good one. Had his
distances been anything like correct at this juncture, he had yet a
chance of winning. In closing, Neale was again thrown, and he told
Harry Holt “to take care of his neck” as he was picking him up.

67.—Baldwin was quite alive to the position, and neglected no
opportunity to turn it to account. He again kept Neale on the
bustle, caught the latter round the tender place on his neck, and
obtained the throw. (“Bravo, Bob! you’ll win it now, if you mind
what you are at!”)

68.—Neale still distressed; Bob to all appearance the stronger man.
The White-headed Blade now thought the bustling mode to be
successful, and tried it on at once. Neale fearlessly met him. In
closing, Baldwin squeezed his opponent, got him down, and fell on
him. (“Why, Bobby,” said Curtis, “you have found out the way at
last. You are doing the trick.”)

69.—Neale commenced milling. In closing, Bob’s strength enabled him
again to get the fall. At this moment a great bustle was heard on
one side of the ring, and a cry of, “The beak! the beak!” An
elderly, pale-faced gentleman in black was observed making his way
for the ring. He proclaimed himself a magistrate, and called upon
all parties to desist. The smooth-tongued blades of the Fancy tried
all their eloquence to appease the wrath of the beak, by stating to
him what a pity it would be, at such an interesting period, to put a
stop to the event, which, as a matter of course, an hour having
elapsed, would end of itself in the course of a few minutes.

70.—During the argument time was called, and the men appeared at the
scratch. Neale was ready, and Bob equally so—no flinching, until
Baldwin was floored.

71.—Neale rallied himself, and went to work with considerable
spirit; Baldwin attacked his adversary wildly. Both down.

72.—The beak endeavoured to break through the crowd to get at the
combatants, but he could not. Hitting away on both sides, but Neale
now and then jobbing the nob of his adversary. In closing, both
down.

73.—(“Now’s the time,” said the Pet to Bob; “go to work, hit steady
with your right hand, and you can’t lose it.” “What nonsense!”
replied Hudson; “how can you mislead the poor fellow so!”) Both on
their mettle, and several blows were exchanged. In closing, Baldwin
obtained the throw.

74.—The rounds were now very short. Baldwin bustling, while Neale
was endeavouring to catch him as he was coming in. Both down, Neale
undermost.

75.—Exerting themselves like brave men, regardless of danger, until
both of them fell out of the ropes.

76.—Neale successively planted three jobbing hits; nevertheless, Bob
returned to the attack undismayed. In closing, Baldwin pulled down
his adversary.

77.—Counter-hits, and a good round altogether, until both went down,
Baldwin uppermost.

78.—The fight had materially changed. Bob, who, in the early part of
the battle, in the opinion of nearly all the spectators, had no
chance of success, was viewed with a different eye. Neale’s left
hand was of little use to him. Both down.

79.—Neale took the lead, and planted his right and left. Baldwin
fell on his knees.

80.—Counter-hits, but not heavy enough to put a finish to the
battle. In closing, both down, Neale undermost.

81.—(The disinterested part of the ring—those persons who had not a
copper on the event seemed to think that it was anybody’s battle.)
Neale, always ready, went to work; Bob, on the bustle, endeavoured
to be with him. In closing, both down, Neale undermost.

82.—Neale hit with his left hand half open, then planted a facer
with his right. Baldwin, still wild, but determined, endeavoured to
return. His distance as heretofore proved incorrect. He rushed into
a close, when both fell.

83.—Neale had not lost his gaiety, and tried to administer
punishment. In closing, the struggle was desperate for the throw;
after a severe encounter, Bob was uppermost. Both men much
distressed.

84, and last.—Baldwin at the scratch, and Neale also ready to the
call of “time.” Both combatants went to work without hesitation.
Some sharp hits were exchanged, when both men went down in the
corner of the ring, close to the magistrate. One hour and a quarter
had elapsed.

His worship now waxed angry at the want of attention paid to his authority, exclaiming, in a peremptory tone of voice, “I’ll endure this no longer!” Laying hold of the arm of Josh Hudson, he told Harry Holt of the consequences which must result to the whole of them, if they did not put an end to the battle. Hudson, obedient to the law, resigned his situation as second, when an amateur rushed into the ring and gave his knee to Neale. The magistrate then spoke to Neale and Baldwin, and observed that he had been sent for by a gentleman in the neighbourhood, to interfere and put a stop to the fight: that he entertained no hostility against any person present, and if they immediately quitted the ring peaceably, he should take no further notice of what had occurred. “If the battle is continued,” said he, raising his voice, “the combatants, seconds, and every individual present aiding and assisting must take the consequences.” The magistrate, however, good-naturedly acknowledged that he had met with more civility and attention than he could have expected from such a multitude. His worship then retired from the scene of action, amidst loud cheers from the spectators.

Further opposition was voted imprudent, and hostilities ceased. Bob and Ned shook hands together, left the ring, and walked to their vehicles. The reporter asked Baldwin how he felt, when he emphatically replied, “What should be the matter with me?” It was thought advisable by the friends of both parties that the combatants should return to Bagshot, and be put to bed.

It was not to be supposed that the question of superiority would remain thus undecided between two such courageous and well-matched men; so, after some little debate upon the “draw,” consequent on magisterial interference, they agreed to add £50 a-side to the stakes, and to meet once more—the time the 28th of May, 1828, the place No Man’s Land, in Hertfordshire. How gallantly Neale fell, after a desperate battle of sixty-six rounds in seventy-one minutes, may be read in Chapter VII. of this volume.

Neale’s friends and admirers did not desert him in defeat. At Neale’s benefit at the Tennis Court, on the 21st of July, 1828, at which Tom Spring, Peter Crawley, Holt, Curtis, and the leading men appeared, a silver cup of the value of 100 guineas was presented by Pierce Egan as a testimonial of his “bravery, honour, and incorruptible integrity.” This trophy for many years formed one of the treasures of the “Rose and Crown.”

Reuben Marten now proposed to back John Nicholls for £100 a-side against Neale, and the cartel being accepted, the match was made off-hand, at Marten’s house, the “City of London,” Berwick Street, Soho. The deposits were duly made until £60 was down, when Nicholls’s backers were absent, but Neale waived the forfeit, and generously agreed to take £25 when the fight should come off; £50 being promised by a gentleman, a backer of Nicholls, for the fight to take place on his estate. We note this, as on another occasion, with Baldwin, Neale waived his claim to forfeit when £170 was down.

The day was fixed for the 23rd September, 1828, the place Fisher Street, in Sussex. Nicholls—a fine, powerful young man, whose recent victory over Dick Acton, a pugilist thought good enough to be matched against Jem Ward and Peter Crawley, had raised him by a jump to the pinnacle of fame—had good friends. The sporting men of London, however, did not believe in a comparative novice being pitted against the victor of a dozen battles, and seven to four was laid at the “Castle,” “Queen’s Head,” and “King’s Arms,” on the Streatham champion.

On Tuesday morning Guildford, Godalming, and the villages near the scene of action were all alive, the amateurs having left London overnight. An immense cavalcade was soon on the move towards Fisher Street, where, at the Royal Cylinder Works, the property of Mr. Stovell, preparations had been made from an early hour. Banners were displayed, two military bands, and six small pieces of cannon in a turf battery were discharged occasionally, and a general rustic merry-making, more like a fair than the preliminaries of a fight, was going on. Tables and forms, with eatables and drinkables, were provided gratuitously for certain visitors within the houses and factory of Mr. Stovell. In an enclosed piece of ground a twenty-four feet ring of turf, laid and levelled, was roped in, with seats for the umpires and referee. At a distance of twelve feet a roped circle kept back the spectators, while round all was a double line of wagons, the inner ones sunk in the ground by holes dug as deep as their axletrees, the outer line being on the level of the field. The ground was kept by 150 stout countrymen with staves, in white smocks, with blue ribands in their hats, marshalled by the indefatigable Mr. Stovell.

At eleven o’clock a curious procession approached. Reuben Marten and Nicholls, in a light two-wheeler, followed by some friends, were succeeded by Neale in a barouche, in which were seated Tom Spring and Harry Holt, the “ribands” handled by Will Scarlett, the renowned “dragsman.” The men were accommodated with separate apartments in Mr. Stovell’s house till the hour of battle arrived.

At ten minutes past one Nicholls dropped his hat within the ropes, and Neale immediately followed his example. Neale was attended by Tom Spring and Harry Holt, Nicholls by Jem Ward and Reuben Marten. Nicholls won the toss for corners, and both men sported true blue for their colours.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Nicholls justified the report of his superior personal
requisites. He stood nearly two inches over Neale, and his weight,
thirteen stone four pounds, was well and evenly distributed. He was
indeed the model of an athlete. Neale, whose weight was twelve stone
four pounds, looked hard, brown, and muscular, and well capable of a
long day’s work. Great caution on both sides. The men stepped round
and round each other, making feints, for full five minutes—the
seconds of Nicholls advising him to use caution and let his man
“come to him,” which Neale did not seem inclined to do. At last
Nicholls sent out his right at Neale’s throat. It was short, for
Neale jumped away. More tedious sparring and manœuvring, until both
men seemed weary of holding up their hands, the young one most so.
Neale, seeing a favourable opening, sprang forward, delivering a
straight right-hander on his adversary’s collar-bone. It was
intended doubtless for the side of his head, but fell lower from the
superior height of his opponent. It was a terrific blow, and sounded
like the crack of a pistol-shot, leaving a broad red mark, that soon
after swelled, as a token of its force. A rally followed, in which
Neale planted a heavy body blow with the right, and his left on
Nicholls’s mouth, who returned on Neale’s head. Neale finished the
round prettily by getting hold of his huge adversary and throwing
him neatly from the hip. Immense applause from the Londoners.

2 to 12.—All similar in character. Neale drew his man and punished
him for coming in, Neale now and then getting down to end the round.

13.—Nicholls, finding himself out-manœuvred, rushed in ding-dong.
Neale met him coolly, and actually sent him off his legs. (“It’s all
U P,” cried Ned Stockman. “Who’ll take two to one?”)

14 to 17.—In every round Neale made his right and left tell with
effect, getting away or stopping the return, until poor Nicholls was
a pitiful spectacle. In the sixteenth and seventeenth rounds Neale
sent Nicholls down with a straight left-hander. Cries of “Take him
away.”

18, and last.—Nicholls tried to get in at his man, but was literally
hit out right and left. Neale closed and threw his man heavily. Jem
Ward stepped forward and said his man should fight no more, and
Neale, stepping up to the umpires and referee, was told he was the
conqueror.

REMARKS.—This one-sided affair hardly calls for comment. It merely
adds one more instance to the innumerable proofs that mere strength
and courage are more than balanced by the skill, readiness, and
precision of the practised master of the science of defence.

Roche, a publican of Exeter, whose provincial reputation as a wrestler was higher than his boxing capabilities, was matched by his overweening friends against Neale. The preliminaries duly arranged; the stakes, £100 a-side, made good; and the day fixed for the 2nd December, 1828; the men met on the North Chapel Cricket Ground, Sussex, forty-four miles from London by road. Neale trained at Milford, in Surrey, and there, it afterwards came out, he was “interviewed,” as modern reporters would style it, by an envoy from Roche’s party, who offered to secure to him £500 to lose the fight, and a further sum of two hundred if he would give in under fifty minutes. All this Neale communicated to his backers; and so well was the secret kept that a double defeat awaited the “Knights of the x,” in the disgrace of their champion and the depletion of their pockets. Had the countermine been discovered, the defeated Devonian declared, “all the King’s horses” should not have drawn him into the ring. In order yet further to keep up the “fool’s paradise” into which these bucolic knaves delivered themselves, the emissary presented Neale with a new suit of clothes and £18 “earnest money,” keeping £2 for commission; and on the very morning of the battle he added £8 out of £10 entrusted to him for the same nefarious purpose. The “cross coves,” assured that all was right, freely backed their man, and were not aware of the mine until it burst beneath their feet, scattering to the wind their hopes and calculations. Roche, who had come up to London, finished his training at the renowned Johnny Gilpin’s house, the “Bell,” at Edmonton, then a charming rural retreat, with its flower and tea gardens; now a well-accustomed modern ginshop, resplendent in gilding, gas, and plate glass, and belted in with brick, mortar, and shops.

Roche, who reached Godalming overnight, set out a little before twelve in a barouche; while Neale, in a four-horse drag, started from Milford, and soon overtook him on the road. Tom Spring, the “Portsmouth Dragsman,” Harry Holt, and other friends, were on the roof of Neale’s coach, and were first on the ground. Roche soon after alighted, under the care of Ben Burn and young Dutch Sam, who were engaged as his seconds. His colours were a light blue, Neale’s a dark blue bird’s-eye. The toss for corners was won by Harry Holt for Neale, who was also waited on by Tom Spring. As the men stood up, the contrast was striking. Roche, who stood nearly six feet, weighed, it was reported, fourteen stone. His advantages in weight and length, however, were fully counterbalanced by his apparent age and staleness. His superfluous meat hung in collops over the belt of his drawers, and he was altogether soft and flabby. The Streatham man, _au contraire_, looked bright, sinewy, fresh, and active, though he had trained rather lighter than on some former occasions, weighing twelve stone two pounds. The umpires and referee having been chosen, the men stood up, at ten minutes to one, for

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—As Roche held up his arms and moved half round to face the
movements of Neale, he betrayed the yokel in every move. The
Streatham hero eyed him with satisfaction, and walked round him with
his hands well up. Roche flourished his long arms awkwardly, with no
particular object but defence, and as soon as Neale saw an opening
in he dashed, delivered with his left a half-arm hit on Roche’s eye,
following it by such a tremendous bodier with the right that down
went the mighty wrestler on the broad of his back, amid the shouts
of the Londoners, the long faces of the provincials, and the
consternation of the “ready-made luck” division, who were utterly
dumbfounded at such a commencement. As Roche was picked up and taken
to his corner he looked towards Neale with a mixture of surprise and
reproach, as if to say, “Is this the way I am to be served?”

2.—A repetition of Round 1. Roche made play awkwardly; Neale
retreated and shifted, stopping him cleverly. At length he in turn
stepped in, delivered his one, two, cuttingly, and down went the
Devonian. Roche was evidently remonstrating with his seconds in his
corner, while his friends of the + division were running about
frantically, hedging their bets if they could.

3.—This round only differed from the two preceding in the fact that,
after some exchanges, in which the balance was all in favour of
Neale, the latter suddenly closed, and giving Roche his leg, clearly
threw the wrestler, amid the shouts of the Londoners and the
astonished silence of the men from the “West Countrie.”

4, 5, and 6.—Ditto, ditto, ditto. Roche tried, however, a little
up-hill fighting, and hit Neale twice or thrice, but with little
effect, while Ned’s left-handers operated like kicks of a horse.
(£100 to £10 on Neale offered.)

7.—In a bustling exchange Ned sent his left obliquely over Roche’s
shoulder, who instantly clutched him, and endeavoured to bear him
down. To the surprise of all Ned fairly lifted his ponderous
adversary, and sent him down heavily by the back-heel, falling on
him. (Utter dismay among the Devonians, and uproarious joy among the
regular ring-goers. Ten to one going begging.)

It would be a mere waste of space to detail further the ensuing
rounds, which went on up to the 30th. Roche, however, cut up game,
and manfully did his best when he found how he was “sold” by his
friends, who were themselves deservedly “sold” in turn. In Round 29,
Ned being called upon by Spring to “put on the final polish,” went
and delivered a left jobbing hit; Roche shifted, and in returning
got Ned by the neck, under his arm, and fairly lifted him off the
ground. Neale was for a few seconds in a critical position, but
Roche, as he hung his weight on him, did not know what to do with
him, and instead of being severely fibbed Ned got down cleverly, to
the great relief of his anxious friends.

30, and last.—Neale broke ground cautiously, but confidently, making
play with both hands, first delivering on the head and following it
with a body blow, in the coolest and most workman-like manner, Roche
“standing it like a lamb,” as one of his backers bitterly remarked.
Neale after following him round the ring, at length caught him a
straight one on the nose, then a flush hit on the mouth, and Roche
went down on his back, Neale falling over him. When Roche was in his
corner there seemed to be a sort of conference, when Ned walked
across and assured Roche that he “meant to win and no mistake, so he
might go on if he liked.” This plain hint was duly appreciated, and
Roche declared he would “fight no more.” Time, thirty minutes.

REMARKS.—A less accomplished fighter than Roche never stripped to
contend with so tried a boxer as Ned Neale. Independent of heavy
slowness, his ideas of defence and stopping were of the clumsiest
and most puerile description. Though no doubt superior to Ned as a
mere wrestler, even in this he was taken by surprise and signally
overthrown. Great pains were taken to circulate stories of the
strength and prowess of Roche, to cover the arranged defeat of
Neale, as the vanquished man afterwards confessed. There is no doubt
that Roche first issued his challenge inconsiderately, and, from an
undue estimate of his own boxing capabilities; but that his
confidence was based upon the information that he was to have an
easy victory, all matters being made smooth for the result. Poor
Roche, in truth, was a mere tool in the affair, and paid the penalty
of his presumption and credulity.

Neale returned to the Swan Inn to dress, and after his ablutions met a party of friends from Portsmouth at dinner, his features being without a scratch. In the afternoon his “caravan” set out, decorated with blue and white favours, and accompanied a pair of Kentish-keyed bugles—the predecessors of our modern cornets-à-piston—on a drive through the villages, amid the cheers of the multitude, to Milford, where, on reaching his training quarters, he found the house ornamented with blue and white bunting, and bannerets of blue and white ribbons, with mine host Mandeville at the door, his old wrinkled face cracking like a mealy potato as he announced dinner number two, which was prepared in his spacious and convenient club-room. A score of smiling friends welcomed the victor, and Ned’s health was drunk with enthusiasm. Neale declared, in returning thanks, that “he was never happier, and hoped he had convinced his friends that he would not deceive them, as honour was dearer to him than money. He had punished those who would have had him rob those to whom he owed his fame and good name, and to deceive those who meant wrong he considered both fair and honest.”

Far different was the case with poor Roche. After being taken back to his inn and bled—for which one of his chapfallen backers tendered the operator a shilling—he was deserted, and but for one friend might have been almost penniless. That the downfal of the “clever ones” was signal was manifest, and those country friends whom they “let into the secret” were loud in their protestations of the whole affair being “a fluke.” Two or three London houses used by the conspirators, which had prepared illuminations in honour of the “certainty,” were conspicuous for their total eclipse when the real news arrived.

Neale and Roche showed on the following Thursday, at Harry Holt’s benefit, Roche exhibiting heavy marks of head punishment, while Neale had not a scratch.

With the close of 1828 came our hero’s retirement from the P. R., and it is to be regretted that mine host of the “Rose and Crown”—for he had now settled down as Boniface in the pleasant village of Norwood, then celebrated for its rurality and gipsy encampments—did not adhere to this resolution; but it was not to be. Some taunting words of a very “fast” young boxer, Young Dutch Sam, led to Neale’s acceptance of his challenge for £100 a-side. The fight came off at Ludlow, April 7th, 1829, and after a gallant struggle of seventy-one rounds, in one hour and forty-one minutes, Neale succumbed to his youthful and scientific opponent. Dissatisfied with the issue, Neale lost no time in challenging Young Sam to a second encounter, which, after an arrest of Neale and a postponement, came off near Bumpstead, in Essex, on the 18th of January, 1831. Here the result was again defeat, this time in fifty-two minutes and fourteen rounds. It was clear that Neale’s best days had gone by.

Prompted by courage rather than prudence, he made yet one more appearance in the P. R. It was with an early opponent, Tom Gaynor (See LIFE OF GAYNOR, Chap. IX., _post_), and here again he had miscalculated his energies, succumbing after a gallant battle of 111 minutes, during which forty-five rounds were contested.

The fistic career of Ned Neale thus closed, as with so many other athletes, in defeat. Yet he retired with his laurels unsullied, his character for courage and honesty unsmirched; and respected by all who knew him, he shuffled off “this mortal coil” at the “Rose and Crown,” Norwood, near the place of his birth, on the 15th of November, 1846.