Chapter XLIII: Appendix: To Period VI (2)

This brings us to the match at length arranged, by the concession of Curtis, for £100 a-side, with Barney Aaron. The battle came off on Tuesday, February 27th, 1827, at Andover, Hants, upon a stage erected in a field at the back of the “Queen Charlotte” public-house, opposite that where Spring defeated Neale, in 1823, one mile from the town. The stage was erected by the townspeople free of expense, and upwards of forty wagons were sent to form an outer ring by the jolly Hampshire farmers of the neighbourhood. The pugilistic division from London was in great force. Jem Ward, Tom Oliver, Ben Burn, Young Gas (Jonathan Bissell), Harry Holt, Ned Neale, with Fogo the Laureate and Joe Fishwick the Commissary, had joined the wagon-train. Curtis, valeted by Young Dutch Sam, took up his quarters at the “White Hart,” and Barney Aaron and Gipsy Cooper at the “Catherine Wheel,” opposite. Curtis was the favourite, at five to four. At one o’clock Barney, accompanied by Mr. Nathan and Jem Ward, ascended the stage amidst loud cheering. Curtis, attended by his backer, and Josh Hudson with Ben Burn, soon followed, and were welcomed with acclamation. The men then shook hands, and the colours were tied to the stakes; a bright yellow for Curtis and a deep red with yellow spots for the Israelite; and the battle commenced.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The Pet, as he exhibited in buff, gave great delight and
satisfaction to his numerous friends. His condition was acknowledged
to be quite tip-top. He might have been compared to the finest
racehorse for blood, game, and bone; in fact, the _tout ensemble_ of
the Pet was the picture of a fine-framed man in miniature. His arms
were beautiful. The Star of the East was equally bright; he had done
everything to improve his strength during his preparation, and he
appeared at the scratch a robust, vigorous, athletic young man. In
elegance, ease, and grace, Angelo, O’Shaughnessy, or Roland, with
the foils, could not have exhibited more taste in the polite
accomplishment of fencing than did the attitudes and arms of Curtis
and Aaron exhibit in the art of self-defence. Both combatants were
armed _cap-à-pie_; it was an eye against an eye, toe for toe, arm
opposed to arm, caution matched with caution; if one was “down” the
other was “up”—it was, “I won’t have it!” on both sides; in short,
it was diamond cut diamond. Such were the boxers opposed to each
other in this great trial of skill. Barney, unlike the character of
his milling in his previous battles, preferred the “look-out” to the
rush; he being well aware of the great talent, judgment, and
finishing qualities of his opponent, and determined not to give the
slightest chance away. The Pet, like an accomplished general, soon
perceived that his adversary was nothing else but a difficult one,
and not to be gammoned upon old suits: indeed, that nothing but the
utmost skill was necessary to be with him upon any point. For
several minutes the spectators were delighted with the extreme
caution displayed on both sides, and at the same time the readiness
which Curtis and Aaron displayed should any opening offer for the
exercise of their fists. Curtis looked as it were into the “very
soul” of his adversary, and the richness of the “Jew’s eye” was of
an equally penetrating description. Barney waited for the Pet to
commence offensive operations, but Curtis, finding that nothing
could be done without great danger to himself, retreated slowly
towards the corner of the stage, the Star of the East following him
leisurely. The interest of the scene was intense, and every peeper
on the stretch to witness mischief. Barney, with great spirit and
tact, went in, and gave Dick pepper with his right and left hands on
his face. (“Beautiful!” from the Sheenies.) The Pet countered
slightly. Barney, in closing, endeavoured to fib his opponent, but
Dick bolted (“Hallo! what’s the matter?”) and cleverly got out of
trouble. The Pet turned quickly, and again met his man; an exchange
of blows followed, and in closing they tried each other’s strength
severely, when both went down, Curtis undermost. (Loud shouting for
Barney, and “Where’s your two to one?”) The claret was seen on
Dick’s mouth. “First blood” was declared in favour of Aaron.

2.—Curtis had always entertained a good opinion of the milling
qualities of his opponent, but he was now completely satisfied that
he was not only a troublesome customer, but a better man than any
who had previously stood before him. Slow and sure appeared the
order of the day on both sides. Aaron was not to be had by any
stratagem practised by Curtis. The latter, however, gradually
retired to the end of the stage, Barney in attendance upon him.
Counter-hits were given, and both told. The Jew went to work in the
most manly style, and the counter-hits were admirable. In closing
Barney endeavoured to fib his opponent, but the Pet returned hard
and fast, and it was difficult to say which had the best of it.
Barney was ultimately thrown, but Dick also went down. The Pet-ites
now began to let loose their red rags, and Curtis was hailed with
shouts of applause.

3.—This round was “as long as Paterson’s Road Book.” Each of their
mugs exhibited the handiwork of the other, and Barney’s peepers had
been measured for a “suit of mourning.” The Pet was cautious, and
his face bespoke that he had all his work to do to change the battle
in his favour. Barney was equally shy, and kept a good look-out.
Curtis, finding that he could not make an impression, tried once
more the retreating system, but Barney was after him, though his
blows were skilfully stopped by the Pet. Counter-hitting, and Jack
as good as his master. Curtis’s right eye received a sharp taste,
but the Jew had the favour returned with interest. A pause, and
nothing like mischief for a short period. Barney at length let fly
on the Pet’s chaffing-box, and the claret followed, which appeared
rather troublesome to Curtis. The admirers of scientific fighting
had a perfect treat, both men being prepared at every point. Curtis
seemed rather fatigued, put down his hands for an instant, and the
Jew followed his example. The truth is, the conduct of Barney in not
availing himself of his weight and length not only surprised all his
friends, but astonished the backers of Curtis. The disinterested
part of the audience viewed it as a doubtful thing. Barney at last
went to work, and planted two successful hits. Some sharp exchanges.
In closing, fibbing was the order of the day, and the pepper-box
changed hands in rapid succession. The men broke ground, and Dick
adopted his skilful mode of retreating. The Star of the East went
after him, and in the corner of the stage planted a severe blow on
his throat, which made Dick gulp again. In closing, after a severe
struggle, Curtis went down undermost, and Barney upon one knee.
(“Vell done, Barney!” from the Sheenies.) The backers of Curtis,
although not positively afraid, yet candidly acknowledged they had
hitherto thought too little of Aaron.

4.—The face of Dick did not exhibit his usual gaiety of expression.
His mind was at work to attack his opponent upon a new system. In
short, we never saw him so puzzled before in any of his contests.
The pause was long, and nothing done. Jem Ward, who had hitherto
been silent, now exclaimed, “It will be—‘who’d ha’ thought it?’ We
shall win!” Barney cleverly hit the Pet away, and some little
workmanship took place between them, when the left mauly of Dick
caught Barney’s nob, and he went down partly on his knees. It could
scarcely be considered a knock-down blow. The Pet-ites were again
liberal with their applause, and seven to four offered.

5.—Those persons who had witnessed the severity of execution done by
Dick in his fights with gloves expected that he would have nobbed
the Jew off-hand. But the science and caution of Barney astonished
the ring-goers. Sharp counter-hits. The fighting was good on both
sides, and both nobs were damaged. The right cheek of the Star of
the East napped a severe cut. In closing the struggle was great to
obtain the throw, when the Pet, by a sudden impulse, gave Barney a
hoist between the ropes. He would have fallen at least six feet to
the ground, but fortunately for the Star of the East a wagon had
been placed near the stage for the accommodation of the reporters,
umpires, and referee. Pierce Egan and another scribbler caught hold
of Barney by the arm and his leg, and rescued the Jew from his
perilous situation. Like one of the gamest of the game Barney jumped
up and exclaimed, “I am not hurt, it’s all right,” and reascended
the stage amidst thunders of applause.

6.—Of course the agitation and shock sustained by the above
accident, added to the shortness of the time, only half a minute, to
return to the scratch, were considerably against him. Yet he set to
in the most manly way, and gave Dick not a very light one on his
pimple. The latter countered as quick as lightning. Milling on both
sides for a short period, until they separated. Both careful, and
upon the look-out for an opening. A rally occurred, in which Dick
rather took the lead, and Barney’s head received severe punishment.
The Jew at length went down upon his hands. (“You have got him now,
Curtis, only go to work!” said the boys of the Borough. “He knows
better,” answered a Sheeny; “Curtis will be in trouble if he does!”)

7.—The countenance of Curtis now became cheerful, and he gave the
“office” to his friends that the fight was his own. Dick was
evidently improved, but Barney, game as a pebble, commenced
fighting. The Pet retreated with advantage, and as Barney followed
him he planted one, two, and a third facer in succession. The Jew,
good as gold, would not be denied, went in to work, caught hold of
Dick, and fibbed with all his strength; Curtis was not behindhand.
In struggling for the throw Curtis went down easy, but was
undermost. Two to one on Curtis, and lots of shouting.

8.—The Pet was decidedly getting the best of it, yet the strength of
Barney was by no means so reduced as to indicate that the fight
would soon be over. Barney went to work, and a sharp rally was the
result. Some hard hits passed between them, and Curtis received a
teaser on his jaw. In closing both went down. The Sheenies did not
desert their man, and cheered him with applause.

9, and last.—Dick, though quite satisfied in his own mind he was now
winning the fight, was as cautious as if he had yet all his work to
do. The head of Barney was rather out of shape, and the nob of
Curtis was a little changed. Sparring for a short time, when Dick
made himself up for mischief, and mischievous he certainly was. With
his left he put in a tremendous blow upon his opponent’s throat.
Barney went down like a shot—flat upon his back—his heels up, and
was utterly insensible when time was called. Curtis so well knew
that he had settled the business that he went up immediately to the
time-keepers to wait for their decision. The Pet jumped for joy, and
was proclaimed the victor, amidst the shouts of the surrounding
populace. Josh Hudson hoisted the Pet upon his shoulders and carried
him to his post-chaise, huzzaing all the way. The fight lasted fifty
minutes.

REMARKS.—Such a real, scientific battle on both sides has not been
seen for many a long day: indeed, no lover of the Fancy would have
thought two hundred miles any distance to have witnessed the
superior tactics displayed by Curtis and Aaron. The Pet, high as he
stood before on the roll of pugilists, raised himself to the top of
the tree by this victory. Curtis has now proved the conqueror in
eleven prize battles. As we have already said, we never saw Dick so
puzzled before, and until he had reduced the Jew to his weight the
first four rounds were of a doubtful character. Without exception
the Pet must be pronounced the most efficient boxer in the
pugilistic world. We cannot say more. At the same time it is equally
true that Barney Aaron, if not exactly at the top of the tree, is
very near to it. That is to say, if Curtis ranks as number one,
number two of the light weights belongs to the brave little Sheeny.
He is still the Star of the East, and instead of having fallen in
the estimation of his friends by this defeat, his fine fighting,
manly conduct, and fair play must raise him in the eyes of the
sporting world. Curtis did not weigh nine stone, and Barney just
drew ten. The severity of the blow which Aaron received on his
throat operated so strongly that he did not come to himself for
nearly an hour. To use Barney’s own words, he said, “I do not know
that I could have won the battle, but had I not received that blow
on my throat, which fairly hit me out of time, I am certain I could
have fought for half an hour longer.” Curtis, before he left
Andover, called upon his fallen and brave opponent and presented him
with a guinea, and acknowledged that he was the best man he had ever
fought with. A subscription of six pounds was also made on the
ground, collected by one of the backers of Curtis.

Curtis was next backed to fight Jack Tisdale for £120 to £100.

Staines, on the Windsor road, was the great rallying point, and Shirley’s, the “New Inn,” the house of call upon the above occasion. Every room was full of milling visitors. In the stables, although extensive, the prads were riding over one another, the yard filled with drags of all sorts, and lots of customers could not find the slightest accommodation. Such were the attractions of the two heroes, the Pet of the Fancy and Jack Tisdale.

Between nine and ten in the morning of Tuesday, October 9th, 1827, the men met according to appointment to ascertain their weight, as required by the articles. Curtis proved to be no more than eight stone nine pounds and three-quarters, and Tisdale eight stone eight pounds. Curtis, in the most confident style, betted two sovereigns to one with Tisdale, after which the men retired to their inns, Curtis to Shirley’s and Tisdale to the Swan Inn, near the bridge, at Staines.

Curtis was decidedly the favourite throughout the whole of the match, at seven to four, two to one, and higher odds. Tisdale was always viewed as a good little man, but it was considered he had entirely left the ring, five years having elapsed since his last battle with Lenney. Tisdale was highly respected by his numerous friends. He had made up his mind to win and nothing else, and assured his backers that if he could but get at Dick, and he thought he could, victory would crown his efforts.

The heavy rain did not damp the ardour of the visitors, and the ring was surrounded by thousands of spectators. Within a mile and a half of the town of Staines, in a meadow in the county of Bucks, almost opposite the race-course at Egham, was the spot of ground selected for action.

At the appointed time Tisdale made his appearance, and threw his castor into the ring, followed by two good ould ones, Jack Randall and Bill Cropley, as his seconds. He was well received. In a few minutes afterwards the Pet, in a military cloak, repeated the token of defiance, waited upon by the John Bull Fighter and Young Dutch Sam. Lots of applause for Curtis. Tisdale and Curtis shook hands together in the most hearty style. The colours, yellow for Curtis and blue for Tisdale, had been tied to the stakes by Hudson and Cropley. The hands were crossed together by all parties and the battle commenced.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On peeling Curtis looked extremely thin, nevertheless he
was quite well. He had reduced himself during his training nearly
fourteen pounds, but he was lively, strong, and well to all intents
and purposes. It was a dangerous experiment for a light man like
Curtis, but to use his own words, he assured his friends he was
never better in the whole course of his life. Tisdale was as good as
he could be made by the wholesome effects of training, and also
inspired with the highest confidence that success would crown his
efforts. In point of youth the Pet had the best of it. The attitude
of Curtis was a picture, and he appeared to the spectators a master
of the art of boxing. The style of Tisdale was not so imposing as
his accomplished fistic rival, but it was firm, calculated to
receive the attack, and formed an excellent outline of a scientific
pugilist. Dick measured his opponent from head to foot, keeping a
good look-out for squalls, anxious to give, but not to receive.
Tisdale was also leary, but his guard was low. The Pet viewed his
rival as a dangerous customer, and like a skilful general was
determined not to give half a chance away; he not only worked hard
with his hands, but he was likewise perpetually on the move with his
feet. Plenty of caution was exhibited on both sides. “Do not be
gammoned,” was the advice of Randall and Cropley to Tisdale. The
interest was intense amongst the spectators to witness the lead
taken on either side. Tisdale attempted to plant a blow, but Dick
got away like a dancing-master. Tisdale repeated the attempt twice,
when ditto, ditto, on the part of the Pet was the time of day. A
sort of stand-still followed, both keeping prime lookouts, like
experienced pilots. Curtis made an offer, but Tisdale was awake. The
Pet, after manœuvring in his best style, at length let fly his right
and left, when Tisdale, with admirable skill, parried both hits,
amidst loud applause from the surrounding crowd. A short pause. “It
will be a long fight,” said the amateurs. Tisdale made another neat
parry. Dick, as if it appeared to his mind he had got his opponent,
hit out one, two, reached the canister of Tisdale, then rushed in to
his work and fibbed away. Tisdale endeavoured to return the
compliment, but without effect, was ultimately thrown, and
undermost. (It might be said not much was the matter, but the
Bermondsey boys let loose their red rags, and odds to any amount
were offered. This round occupied nearly nine minutes.)

2.—Tisdale wished to go to work, but Dick would not have it. Curtis
with great force put in a facer without return. (“Beautiful!” from
his friends.) Tisdale slightly touched the body of his adversary.
Both made themselves up for mischief, and two prime counter-hits
were the result. The Pet planted a ribber, which made Tisdale blow
for breath. Both on the look-out. Curtis hit out right and left with
effect, but in return he napped a rum one on his ear. Some exchanges
occurred, when Dick, with great impetuosity, planted two blows that
were heard all over the ring, and Tisdale went down. The effect was
so heavy that Tisdale for the instant scarcely knew where he was,
and he put up his hand to keep Dick off.

3.—The handiwork of the Pet was visible to all the ring—a lump on
Tisdale’s forehead, and his left eye damaged. Dick soon planted a
nobber. A pause. Dick got away from mischief. Tisdale endeavoured to
plant some hits, but Dick retreated in the most masterly style.
Tisdale again missed several hits, owing to the retreating jumps of
Curtis. Dick also made some beautiful stops. Tisdale satisfied his
friends that he was a brave little man, although he could not get
the lead. The skill evinced by Curtis was much admired. He gammoned
his opponent to come and fight, and then punished him for his
temerity. Dick again made his one, two, good, which produced some
severe in-fighting, decidedly in favour of the Pet. In closing, both
down, Tisdale undermost. (“Odds?” cried Josh; “why, you may bet
anything, and no mistake! It’s one hundred to a rump steak, and I’ll
lay the hundred pounds.”)

4.—The Bermondseys were all in high spirits. Tisdale made play
without effect, Dick being ready for his opponent at all points.
Tisdale, rather wild from the one, two, of his opponent, hit at
random. In closing Dick got the best of the fibbing, and Tisdale was
again thrown. (“Meat in Newgate Market must rise to-morrow,” said
the John Bull Fighter, “to cover the losses of the kill-bulls.”)

5.—Upwards of a minute elapsed before anything was attempted between
the combatants, so much caution was observed on both sides. Tisdale
was on the alert to effect a turn, but Dick was up to his movements.
The latter also neatly, and with great force, planted two hits
without return. Tisdale at length got into work, and some sharp
blows were exchanged. Tisdale showed “first blood,” from the mouth,
which was announced to the ring by Josh Hudson. In closing Tisdale
went down.

6.—The steadiness displayed by Tisdale was much admired. He came
cheerfully to the scratch, and tried to punish the Pet, but the
latter stopped him with ease. The right hand of Curtis made a
smashing hit on Tisdale’s left ogle, but the Newgate Market hero
quick as lightning countered, and produced the claret from Dick’s
ear. (“My eye,” said Cropley to Randall, “that was a teaser!”) Dick
tried all his skill to draw Tisdale again into his clutches, but
Jack was not to be had, and a long pause ensued. Curtis jobbed with
his left hand, nevertheless Tisdale returned the charge like nothing
but a good one. The men fought their way into a rally, and pepper on
both sides was the order of the day, until they broke away. This
round was decidedly the best that had taken place; and although it
was the general opinion that Dick would prove the conqueror, it was
admitted at the same time that he would have his work to do. Tisdale
could not plant his hits effectually, the Pet was so good upon his
legs. Curtis in great style stopped a rib-roaster, and patted his
arm, laughing at Tisdale. A rally was the tie-up of this round, to
the advantage of Curtis, and Tisdale fell with his back upon the
ropes. Several bets were now lost that Dick won the battle in half
an hour.

7.—This round was a touch of the polish. Dick had it all his own
way. He jobbed and jobbed again, without any return, and closed the
round by throwing the hero of Newgate Market.

8.—Dick, although so much in his favour, was still cautious,
determined to make his conquest complete. The left hand of the Pet
in numerous instances operated like the kick of a horse on the nob
of Tisdale. The latter retreated to the ropes, followed by Curtis,
when Dick took the lead in weaving, and a severe struggle for the
throw took place. During the time Tisdale was balancing upon the
ropes, and apprehensive of the punishment he was about to receive
from Curtis, he said, “Dick, don’t hit me now.” “I will not,”
replied Dick, and laying hold of Tisdale’s hand he pulled him up,
and led him into the middle of the ring, amidst tumultuous applause.
The battle was now severe indeed, and Tisdale hit wide and wild; the
Pet planted a facer, when they both went to work like
out-and-outers. Give and take, and summat the matter on both sides;
the nose of Curtis appeared as if it had been scraped with a knife.
The face of Tisdale had now assumed an altered aspect, and,
according to the phrase of the Ring, his uncles and aunts would have
doubted his relationship, his frontispiece was so completely
altered. To add to Tisdale’s already damaged head, Dick again
planted two jobbers, and Tisdale was floored. (Hats were thrown up,
the Bermondsey coves shouting and dancing, and odds as extravagant
as St. Paul’s to a cockle-shell offered.)

9.—Short. Tisdale suffering under the severity of punishment hit at
random. This sort of conduct suited Curtis; he took advantage of the
mistake, and by a hit on the domino box sent Tisdale to his mother
earth.

10.—A brave man will always claim admiration, and a braver or better
little man was never seen in the twenty-four foot than Jack Tisdale.
But his superior in tactics stood before him. The coolness which had
previously distinguished the conduct of Tisdale was gone by, and the
repeated irritating blows had excited his passion; at all events, he
threw several blows away. He would not be denied, and he bored Dick
nearly to the ropes. In stopping a sort of kill-bull blow Dick
slipped down on his latter end. This circumstance gave a little bit
of new life to his friends, and Tisdale was loudly cheered.

11.—A few persons seemed to think that Dick was weak, but he soon
convinced his partisans to the contrary. Dick got away from
mischief, but was exceedingly mischievous in the return, and the
nose of the hero of Newgate Market received a hit enough to have
satisfied any common glutton. Tisdale, undismayed, never flinched,
and returned sharply on Curtis’s chin. (“Hallo!” cried Cropley,
“Master Dick, you have napped it.”) Dick, waiting for a turn, tried
every move on the board to have the best of it; he planted a facer,
repeated the dose, then tried it a third time with success. (“Blow
my dickey!” said Josh; “why, I never saw a footman knock at a door
half so stylish as Dick is paying his respects to Mr. Tisdale!”) The
hero of Newgate Market stood up with the firmness of a brick,
counter-hitting, and exerting himself to win, until Dick punished
him in all directions at the ropes. In struggling for the throw Dick
had the best of it, and Tisdale was undermost. (Curtis, during the
time he was sitting upon the knee of his second, informed his backer
he could put on the polish and win it in a canter. “No,” was the
reply, “take your time; it is all your own; win at your leisure.”)

12.—This round had hardly commenced when a facer was planted by
Curtis. Tisdale, quite wild, followed Dick over the ring, but Curtis
put on another opera step, and nothing was the matter. Tisdale again
went to work, but the skipping back of Curtis made him all right.
The Pet put in a jobber, ditto, and ditto, repeated. The gluttony
displayed by Tisdale called forth not only admiration, but pity. The
Newgate Market hero made himself up for mischief, tremendous
counter-hits occurred, and the claret was seen from the nose of
Curtis. Yet nothing could take the fight out of the Pet. Tisdale
wildly following him received punishment at every step. In closing
Tisdale underwent fibbing, and was also thrown.

13.—This round had nearly proved a _finale_. Tisdale now became
desperate, and plunged headlong to work, regardless of consequences.
Dick stopped him, got away with ease, and punished his opponent
severely. A pause ensued, Dick as cautious as when he commenced the
battle. The appearance of Tisdale was really piteous, but he still
kept the game alive, and did his best for himself and friends to
obtain victory. The Pet soon got an opening, and hit poor Tisdale to
a perfect stand-still; his hands dropped, he staggered, and fell
down. (“Take him away,” said Josh; “it is a shame to let such a
brave fellow be punished without the shadow of a chance to win.”)

14.—When time was called Tisdale answered it, but he was as groggy
as a sailor three sheets in the wind—“yes, and worse than that
’ere,” as the John Bull Fighter observed, Tisdale scarcely knowing
what he was about—in fact, he was quite abroad, dealing his blows at
random. Dick hopped out of the way of mischief, then planted a
facer, which gave his opponent the staggers. Tisdale fell on his
hand and knee, but being too game to consider the round at end,
immediately got up to renew the fight, when the Pet ran up to him
and sent him down. “Foul!” and “Fair!” were the cries—the umpires
disagreed, but the referee considered it fair. The conduct of Curtis
might have been censured as not exactly polite or gentlemanly, as
Scroggins said, nevertheless it was perfectly fair, as Tisdale rose
upon his legs to renew the battle. In the first instance Tisdale was
about leaving the ring, but upon hearing the referee’s decision he
returned to renew the fight.

15.—The time gained by the wrangle was good for Tisdale. He put up
his hands at the scratch, then recollecting himself said it was
“foul conduct,” left Curtis, went up to the umpires, and asked “what
he was to do?” “Why, fight on,” replied the referee, “if you do not
mean to lose the fight.” It is worthy of remark that Curtis never
took any advantage of Tisdale’s movements, which he might have done.
Some of the spectators had now left their places in the outer ring,
and all was glorious confusion.

16.—This round was all upon the bustle, and whips and sticks were at
work to keep the ring clear. The battle was now reduced a horse to a
hen; Tisdale was of no use, and Curtis hit him down. (“Don’t leave
the ring, Dick, till you finish the fight properly,” observed his
friends.)

17, and last.—Tisdale again appeared at the scratch, but it was only
to receive additional punishment. Dick was at him without delay, and
Tisdale was again down at the ropes. On time being called Tisdale
did not appear at the scratch. Curtis went up to him, when Randall
said, “It is all over,” and Tisdale also added that “he would not
fight any more.” The John Bull Fighter, after putting the colours,
the fruits of victory, round the neck of the Pet, hoisted him on his
shoulders, and carried him in triumph to his drag, amidst loud
shouting. The fight was over in fifty-eight minutes.

REMARKS.—From the beginning to the end of the mill it never appeared
to us that Tisdale had a chance of winning. In observing thus much
it is not meant to convey an opinion to our readers that Tisdale is
not a good boxer—the contrary is the fact. He is one of the best
little men of his weight in the kingdom; he stands well upon his
legs; he can stop like a tactician, hits hard, and possesses a
capital knowledge of boxing. His courage is of the highest order,
and his game unquestionable. He is not disgraced in surrendering to
Curtis, the irresistible Champion of the Light Weights. Many
spectators felt disappointed that Curtis did not do more with
Tisdale at the beginning of the battle, as the friends of Curtis
declared that Tisdale would be polished off _sans cérémonie_. But
Curtis was not to be led away by the high praises of his backers,
and like a skilful general he treated his adversary as a dangerous
opponent. Curtis did not escape without some sharp punishment about
the head, but in comparison with Tisdale’s it was trifling in the
extreme.

Curtis, from his unbroken career of conquest in the Prize Ring, might now be compared to the celebrated Eclipse, who, having won all the King’s Plates he went for, was “cried down;” for the Pet was so decidedly excellent in his tactics that he was left without an opponent.

Some injudicious persons at this period began an idle newspaper controversy on the comparative merits of Curtis and Jack Randall, full of vulgar personalities; and the latter boxer, in the month of October, 1827, allowed a letter to appear with his signature in _Pierce Egan’s Life in London_, in which he offered to fight Curtis “in _four months_ from the time of making the match, for £300 to £1,000 (!) either on a stage or the turf,” “money always ready at the Hole in the Wall, Chancery Lane.” To which Curtis replied that “his weight was nine stone,” but he would “give half a stone, and fight Mr. Randall, or any other man, for £100 to £300.” This buncombe of course meant nothing. Indeed, poor Jack was already doing battle with the universal conqueror, who gave him the finishing blow within six months of this ridiculous challenge.

Curtis took his leave of the Prize Ring at a benefit at the Fives Court, in November, 1827, by an open challenge for a month to any man in England, half a stone above his weight. No boxer had the temerity to come forward and “pick up the glove;” and Curtis in consequence retired from the scene of active pugilism. But although the Pet had given up prize milling, he had not given up the use of his hands to protect himself from insult. On Wednesday afternoon, January 2nd, 1828, as the Pet and his pal, Young Dutch Sam, were walking along Blackfriars Road, they passed a couple of sturdy coalheavers, one of whom, in swinging his whip round, struck Dick. The latter asked Coaly what he meant by striking him. The exact reply we must not mention—suffice it to say that Dick threatened to kick the offender on that part of his person to which he was referred for an explanation. Coaly, not knowing the Pet, threw a brave defiance in his teeth, and a set-to commenced, Sam seconding the Pet, and Coaly having his own companion to pick him up. Dick found himself engaged with a very strong fellow, who knew a little about fighting, and was moreover fully a stone and a half the heavier man. Coaly rushed in to bring his strength to bear, and Dick, as his custom was, broke ground—jobbing and retreating. One of the black diamond’s eyes was soon in darkness, but he did not take without giving; almost at the very commencement of the fight, he planted a nobber that severely damaged the Pet’s neat countenance, besides sending him back against a cart, with a force that raised a peal of bells in Dick’s cranium. The spectators of all sorts were, of course, numerous, and some of them expressed considerable disapprobation at Dick’s mode of getting away. Encouraged by this, the second coalheaver went behind Curtis and stopped him as he retreated; Young Dutch Sam instantly floored him, which at once took all conceit of either fighting or interfering out of that gentleman. A bystander soon after received a topper from Sam for placing his carcass where it ought not to be; he soon after came up behind the young Dutchman, returned the hit on the sly, and retreated among the mob; but Sam quickly pulled him forth and gave him three or four facers, whereupon he cried for quarter. During these proceedings the Pet was still engaged with his first antagonist, who proved himself a game man, and though told that he was fighting with the celebrated Dick Curtis, he refused to give in, but declared that he knew he could beat his man, saying, “let him be Dick or Devil, he’d sarve him out.” At length a gentleman, not liking to see a good man cut up where he had little or no chance, took Coaly by the arm, and after literally begging him to leave off, strengthened his counsel by a _douceur_ of half-a-crown, upon sight of which the brave, though saucy, coalheaver consented to say “enough.” He was severely punished about the head—nor did Curtis escape scot-free; his nob was visibly marked.

A long letter professing to come from the coalheaver and signed “George Phillips” appeared the following week in the _Dispatch_, in which the writer, denying his defeat, and offering to fight Curtis for £5 (!), hoped that the Pet would meet him “for love, and the £5 as a sweetener.” Mr. Whittaker, an oilman and ex-pugilist, its supposed writer, also went about offering to back “his man” against “the Pet.”

Curtis now went on a sparring tour to Manchester and Liverpool; at the latter place, at the Circus, he was enthusiastically received. Young Sam, Jem Ward, and Ned Stockman were also of the party.

All doubts respecting the milling capabilities of Coaly were completely put to rest at Joe Fishwick’s benefit at the Tennis Court, on Monday, March 17th, 1828. The sturdy black diamond having declared, in opposition to all the statements published of that affair, that he had the “best of it,” Curtis chivalrously volunteered to put on the gloves with him. He had not the slightest chance with Curtis, who nobbed him at pleasure, drew blood from his razor-shaped nose, and knocked him down no less than six times. All he could do was, when not hit off his legs, to bore Dick against the rail by superior weight and strength; but in everything that belongs to fighting it was “all the world to nothing” on the Pet. The latter seemed at length ashamed to hit the man, and offered to cut it, but Coaly was foolhardy enough to wish for more, saying “he was not hurt.” Curtis therefore accommodated him with additional punishment. On pulling off the gloves the coalheaver appeared quite chapfallen. Dick was so completely armed at all points that the violent attacks of Coaly were utterly frustrated, and it might almost be said that Curtis left the stage without receiving a hit.

Though retired as a principal, Dick’s talents as a second were in constant requisition, and his name will be found, in that capacity, in many pages of our volumes. It would have been well indeed for Curtis had he adhered to his resolution of retirement; but it was not to be. A ten stone man, Perkins, of Oxford, who had received the title of “the Oxford Pet,” had so raised his name by rapid victories over Wakelin, Jem Raines, and Dick Price, in one year (1827), that a battle for £100 was proposed and accepted. In this overmatched contest Curtis was defeated on December 30th, 1828, at Hurley Bottom, Berks, as detailed under our notice of Perkins in an after-page of this Appendix.

From the period of his first and only defeat Curtis did not enter the Prize Ring again as a principal. As a second he was constantly called upon to exercise his talents, as our pages will show. On these occasions he displayed incomparable tact and judgment, often winning fights “out of the fire,” where all hope of success had been abandoned. He was second to Owen Swift in the unfortunate battle between that accomplished master of the art and Brighton Bill, as is fully set forth in the memoir of YOUNG DUTCH SAM. For this he was tried at the Hertford Assizes on July 14th, 1838, and was sentenced to three months’ imprisonment. In the later period of his life he was a martyr to the rheumatic gout, and was frequently laid up for weeks together. The life of the Pet shows no exception to that of other public favourites, theatrical or otherwise—chequered by vicissitudes, at one time in “full feather and fine song,” and at another penniless—a state of things to be ascribed to his propensity to “a hand at crib,” and other gambling practices. For a short period he was a publican, keeping the “Star,” in Blackman Street, Borough; but he had not then “sown his wild oats,” and the eccentricity of his disposition soon caused him to “retire from the business,” or more correctly the business retired from him. Notwithstanding his temporary acquaintance with the interior of Hertford Gaol, he continued to be sought as a “trump card” at all fights, and those who succeeded in securing his services had never any reason to regret their confidence. A contemporary, the late Vincent George Dowling, Esq., thus bore testimony to his worth in an editorial obituary notice in _Bell’s Life_, and the writer, from personal knowledge, can well endorse that testimony: “Long as we have known Curtis, we never heard of his having deceived a friend, and he was one of the few of his class upon whom reliance in matters of opinion could be implicitly placed. He was always grateful for obligations conferred, and in the hour of need had never-failing sources of relief, when his pride would permit him to confess his necessities. His last and fatal illness is attributable to having burst a blood-vessel, from which he never thoroughly rallied, and it has been our lot to hear him speak in terms of deep gratitude for the kindnesses he experienced whilst an inmate of Guy’s Hospital, as well from his medical attendants as from those numerous old acquaintances who sympathised in his sufferings, among whom we may rank his early pupil and _protégé_, Owen Swift, who was enabled to raise and contribute to his wants within the last six weeks upwards of eighteen pounds, while we know from other sources that sum was doubled during the same period. This is the best refutation of a tissue of gross falsehoods foisted upon the editor of the _Morning Herald_, unfortunately but too ready to adopt any statement, however absurd, which he deems calculated to throw discredit on the manly art of boxing or its professors. Young Dutch Sam, who was also introduced to the Ring by the deceased, contributed his mite, and we can say, from the best authority, that the expiring ‘King Richard,’ while he died in peace with all mankind, was surrounded with every comfort his situation required, and in homely terms testified his perfect satisfaction with all that had been done for him. ’Tis true he left no ‘stock purse’ behind, but that circumstance did not restrain those who knew and respected him in life from taking the necessary steps to secure a becoming attention to the last sad ceremonies of the grave.”

To this spontaneous testimony of the “Nestor of the Ring,” we may add that Curtis breathed his last at his own house in Dover Street, Southwark, on Saturday, September 16th, 1843. We have been more precise on this point because an eminent sporting writer, misled by the paper once known as “My Grandmother,” has left it on record, “And the once caressed Pet of the Fancy breathed his last unfriended and unattended, save by the hireling servitors of a public hospital.” “King Dick,” as his companions were wont to call him, was sensible to the last, and perfectly conscious of the approaching close of his career.

His memory and his widow he bequeathed to his friends, feelingly deploring the reduced state of his exchequer, and hoping that his old “pals” would liberally come forward to contribute something towards alleviating the sorrows and distresses of his widow, who had been to him a careful and kindly nurse throughout a long and painful illness. For some days previous to the final flicker of the vital spark, Dick had been occasionally wandering, and the scenes of his former pursuits seemed to pass before his mental vision. He talked of battles won and lost, of the merits of his compeers, and of the qualifications requisite for his profession. When visited by Owen Swift, and others his “companions in arms,” he was cheerful, although he occasionally mistook one for another, and on reference to coming events gave his opinion pretty freely about those modern pretenders who stickled for half a stone. Turning to a friend, he observed, “My last round is come!” and sinking into a state of insensibility, shortly afterwards expired.

The remains of the departed pugilist were carried to their “narrow home” in St. George’s Churchyard, Southwark, on the Thursday next after his decease, in a manner suitable to the respect felt by his family and friends. Among the mourners who followed were his brother, a well-known veterinary surgeon, the Champion of England, Peter Crawley, Jem Burn, Owen Swift, Alec Reid, Young Reed, Ned Turner, Johnny Hannan, Johnny Walker, Reidie, Deaf Burke, _cum multis aliis_. His friend Young Dutch Sam was absent from illness (he died in six weeks afterwards), and such was the sympathy and public curiosity on the occasion that quite ten thousand persons lined the route of the funeral procession. While upon this subject, we may add that the proceeds of a sparring benefit at Jem Burn’s, £25, were handed over to the widow by the editor of _Bell’s Life in London_, with more than £50 of subscriptions from other sources, with which she was placed in a humble but profitable business in Fetter Lane, and where the factory was known as that of “Curtis’s Premier Blacking.” We therefore consider the rhetorical flourish of “Nimrod” as completely “polished off” as “King Richard” during his reign himself polished off those who disputed his “fistic” supremacy.

MONODY ON THE DEATH OF DICK CURTIS.

FAREWELL! a long farewell! renowned King Dick!
Well may we mourn that thou hast cut thy stick;
Victorious still in many a sharp attack,
Stern Champion, Death, hath laid thee on thy back;
Exhausted all thy bottom and thy pluck,
Thine arm lies powerless, and thy colours struck;
Rigid thine elasticity of limb,
Deaf are thy listeners, and thine ogles dim;
Pale are those lips from which rich humour rush’d;
Spun are thy spicy yarns, thy tongue is hush’d;
Stripped are the laurels bright that girt thy brow
And dust to dust is all that waits thee now.

Yet long the Fancy’s tears thy grave shall wet,
Star of the Light Weights, all-accomplished Pet!
For thy bold spirit soared on eagle’s wing,
And shed a halo round the fighting Ring—
Acknowledged there the bravest and the best,
For craven fear ne’er harboured in thy breast;
Conquest, proud conquest, was thine only aim,
Unrivall’d still in gallantry and game.
As lightning quick to dart upon thy foe,
And in the dust to lay his glories low,
The palm of victory forcing him to yield,
And sing “Peccavi” on the battle-field;
Adieu, thou pride and wonder of the age,
The brightest star on Fistiana’s page,
Where records of your manly deeds are stor’d,
The pinks you’ve pepper’d, and the trumps you’ve floored!
Why should we mourn of Perkins the sad tale,
O’er which sad memory fain would draw a veil,
And while unfading thy brave deeds shall bloom,
Consign thine errors with thee to the tomb!

Well may we weep for these degenerate days,
As a sad trophy to thy fame we raise,
And mourn, since boxing hath become a trade,
Its honour tarnished and its flowers decay’d!
No hardy Cribb now throws the gauntlet down,
Nor brave Tom Spring, of unalloyed renown;
No brawny Belcher now for victory strives,
Nor tough Game Chicken flourishes his fives;
No Molyneux now rears his sable nob,
Nor rough-and-ready stout White-headed Bob.
Well may we grieve, as we thy fate deplore,
The golden days of milling are no more,
Exclaiming, as fresh candidates appear,
“Oh, what a woeful falling-off is here!”

But Curtis prov’d a trump, and no mistake, }
To every move upon the board awake, }
And staunch as e’er tied colours to a stake! }
When a mere boy, by two good men assail’d,
Beneath his prowess Brown and Watson quail’d;
And after combat resolute and tough,
Lenney and Cooper, sorrowing, cried, “Enough!”
Thrice Peter Warren tried to do the trick,
But found his master in triumphant Dick;
In a turn-up, from momentary heat,
Ned Savage was made savage by defeat;
And bouncing Barney Aaron, Hebrew stout,
Look’d all abroad when Richard sarv’d him out;
Tisdale our Monarch ventur’d to attack,
But all the shine was taken out of Jack;
And lastly Dick, urg’d on by insult’s goad,
Whack’d a coalheaver in the Surrey Road.

But his last fight is fought, and clos’d his reign,
And time is call’d to poor King Dick in vain;
For Death, that ruthless monarch, gaunt and grim, }
Hath cruelly hit out and finished him, }
Sent him to earth, and stiffened every limb. }
Flower of the Fancy, yet one more adieu!
Where shall we look to find a “Pet” like you?
Sound be thy sleep, receive my last good night,
And may the turf upon thy breast be light,
For though in manhood’s prime by fate unshipp’d,
Thou wert a boy as brave as ever stripp’d;
Time shall fly forward, years shall wax and wane,
Ere “we shall look upon thy like again.”

=M.=

BARNEY AARON (“THE STAR OF THE EAST”)—1819–1834.

The subject of this biography first opened his eyes on the bustling world in the populous Goshen of Duke’s Place, Aldgate, on the 21st of November, 1800.

At an early age, as we are told by “Boxiana,” Master Barney distinguished himself by taking his own part, and milling with the utmost impartiality either Jew or Christian boy who might forget the law of _meum_ and _tuum_ in the matter of marbles, tops, kites, balls, or such other personal property as to boyhood appertaineth.

In the year 1819 one Bill Connelly (whose nationality we may suspect to be Hibernian), having assumed the title of the Rosemary Lane Champion, we presume in virtue of his talent, promised the young Israelite a thrashing. To the execution of this promise the juvenile Maccabeus put in a demurrer, and to sustain it hurled defiance in the teeth of Paddy. They met, and after sixteen rounds occupying thirty-three minutes the Philistine was routed, and the children of Israel sang “See the Conquering Hero Comes” in honour of the youthful Jewish warrior.

Aaron next laid hands very heavily on one of “the tribesh,” Manny Lyons, a heavier man by two stone, and superior in length. It was a hard battle for an hour and a quarter, when Barney, worn out by his own exertions rather than the hitting of his adversary, lost the battle from exhaustion, but not his character as a pugilist of high pretensions.

In a second battle with Lyons, Barney in half an hour got his opponent “down to his own weight,” beat him in fifty minutes, and refreshed his laurels, scarcely tarnished by his first defeat.

BARNEY AARON (“THE STAR OF THE EAST”).
]

Ely Bendon, a good fighter and a game man, challenged Barney, and they met on Bow Common. As the P.C. ropes and stakes were not there the fight is not reported. Barney defeated Bendon in three-quarters of an hour.

Samuel Belasco, a brother of Aby and of Israel Belasco, and therefore of the family of “the fighting Belascos,” tried the quality of young Barney at the cost of defeat, as did Angel Hyams, a nephew of the celebrated Dan Mendoza. But the latter affair being interrupted by a magistrate at the seventh round was never brought to a conclusion.

Barney was now “somebody,” and anxious to earn a name, fame, and “monish,” so he went down to see the fights between Arthur Matthewson, of Birmingham, and Israel Belasco, and of Phil Sampson and Birmingham Hall, which took place on Moulsey Hurst on Wednesday, March 19th, 1823.

A purse was announced for a third battle, when Tom Collins (a 10st. 7lbs. pugilist, who afterwards fought Harry Jones) offered himself. There was a pause, when young Barney modestly stepped into the ropes as a candidate. The fighting was all in favour of Barney, who took astonishing liberties with the nob of Collins, so much so as to turn the odds from six to four against him to five to four in his favour. After half an hour’s sharp work Barney’s left hand was injured, and he was reluctantly compelled to discontinue the fight.

The exhibition however gained him immediate friends, and he was at once matched against Ned Stockman for £25 a-side. The battle was decided on the 6th of May, 1823, at Blindlow Heath, Sussex, after Peter Crawley had conquered Dick Acton. Stockman had for his seconds Eales and Dick Curtis; Barney was attended by Jem Ward and Rogers. The battle was gallantly contested for forty minutes and as many rounds, when Stockman gave in severely punished. He could not resist the resolute and heavy hitting of the Jew, and declared he had never met so good a man of his weight. This victory at once stamped Barney as a boxer of talent.

He was now backed against Lenney, who had seen some service in the P.R., and was known as a good and game trial horse, for £50. Their difference of opinion was decided on the 5th of August, 1823, on Harpenden Common, near St. Albans. Barney threw his castor into the ring under the care of Josh Hudson and Peter Crawley, for he had already gained the favour of the big ’uns. Lenney was advised by the learned and eloquent Harry Holt, while Davy Hudson followed on the same side.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The attitude of Lenney was interesting; and he displayed
himself to better advantage than usual. The Jew was in a great hurry
to feel for his opponent’s nob; but Lenney said, “Wait a bit!”
However, they soon went to work; Lenney had the worst of the
milling, and also went down. (Six to four on Barney.)

2.—Lenney put in two such severe blows on the Jew’s head that for an
instant he was quite abroad, and turned round; but he recovered
himself before the end of the round, and Lenney again went down.