Chapter XLV: Appendix: To Period VI (4)

After Barney Aaron had defeated Dick Hares, at No Man’s Land, on Tuesday, March 21st, 1826, a subscription purse of five pounds was collected for Mike Curtain and Harry Jones; and although only seven days had elapsed since his fight with Knowlan, Harry was determined not to let a chance go by him. Curtain was anxious for another shy with the Sailor Boy, having been defeated by him, after a severe struggle of one hour and three-quarters, as stated in a preceding page. Jones, upon this occasion, was seconded by Fogo, and the battle was considered above mediocrity; but at the expiration of half an hour “the Curtain was let down” a second time, and Jones pronounced the conqueror.

After Young Dutch Sam had defeated Tom Cooper, the Gipsy, at Grays, in Essex, on Tuesday, April 25th, 1826, a subscription purse was collected for a second fight, when Jones and Tom Collins entered the ring. Collins was the man who defeated Barney Aaron when the latter boxer was a novice, and was considered a scientific, sharp boxer. He was soon reduced to a mere nobody in the hands of Harry Jones. In the short space of four rounds, occupying only six minutes, Collins was severely punished and defeated, while Jones left the ground with hardly a scratch.

On Tuesday, September 5th, 1826, after Bishop Sharpe had defeated Alec Reid, at No Man’s Land, in Hertfordshire, to make up a third battle, for a subscription purse, Jones, always ready to earn a pound or two, and Pick, a Bristol lad, equally anxious to obtain a small slice, stood up on the shortest notice. Dick Curtis and Young Dutch Sam seconded Harry Jones, and Bayley and Gipsy Cooper acted as seconds for Pick. Twenty-seven rounds were contested. In every round Jones took the lead, and ultimately he was declared the conqueror. Pick had not the slightest chance, and was severely punished. The Sailor Boy had scarcely a mark upon him. Jones won the battle in thirty minutes.

The Sailor Boy at this period was hardly ever out of “action.” At Fidgett Hall, one mile and a half from Newmarket, after Larkins had defeated Abbot, a second fight took place for a purse of five pounds, between Harry Jones and Reuben Howe, on Tuesday, November 28th, 1826—the former well known in the London circles, the latter a bustling, boasting yokel, weighing a stone and a half more than Jones. Howe was seconded by two of his own pals, and Jones by Oliver and Fogo. Thirty-one rounds were fought in thirty-four minutes, during the whole of which Jones took the lead both in hitting and throwing, and won the fight almost without a scratch. No man could have polished off a customer in a more workman-like manner. The defeat of Howe was much relished by the chawbacons, as he was a complete bully among his companions, and being thus “taken down a peg” probably tended to improve his manners.

After Peter Crawley had defeated Jem Ward, at Royston Heath, Cambridgeshire, on Tuesday, January 2nd, 1827, Harry Jones entered the ring with Gybletts for a subscription purse. In the course of ten minutes Jones was defeated. It was considered no match. The blunt was divided between them. Gipsy Cooper seconded Gybletts, and Ned Stockman and a pupil of Israel Belasco’s attended upon the Sailor Boy.

The second battle between Larkins and Abbot, for fifty pounds a-side, according to the articles, was to have been decided on Tuesday, March 13th, 1827, within sixty miles of London; but as many things happen between the “cup and the lip,” the “authorities” interfered, and Larkins and Abbot slept in whole skins that night. After some little murmurings by the disappointed crowd “that there is no certainty in this here life,” Peter Crawley arrived, and added to their discomfiture by avowing it was the intention of Larkins to forfeit on account of illness.

The little fight, as it was termed, now became the interesting topic of the day; and Jones and Raines started for a new piece of ground, followed by a string of vehicles of every description, hundreds of horsemen, and toddlers out of number. The road had a pleasing appearance, by the bustle, life, and activity, for several miles; the turnpikes napped lots of blunt by the change; and the pot-houses met with a variety of unexpected customers. But the principal part of the toddlers who were compelled to ride Shanks’s mare were beaten to a stand-still long before the grand halt took place at Chesterford. During the rapid motion of the “gay throng” several upsets occurred; but the Fancy were too game to complain of broken panels, or being canted over the necks of their horses, contenting themselves with the old saying that “worse accidents occur at sea.” At Chesterford a parley ensued about making the ring, and “Haydon Grange” was named as a place beyond the possibility of an interruption. But the crowd, who had already been over twenty miles of ground, were too much fatigued to undertake another of ten, and preferred chancing it; accordingly the stakes were knocked into the ground without delay, in the parish of Chesterford. An outer ring was immediately formed by the carriages, and the combatants called for. Raines appeared first, and threw up his nob-cover, waited upon by Stockman and a hackney dragsman nicknamed Whipaway, while Peter Crawley and the Poet Laureate officiated as seconds for the Sailor Boy. This time Fogo did not show himself habited as a collegian, although his toggery bespoke the outline of a “Fellow Commoner” who had not decidedly taken his terms, although he was upon “terms” with the ancient tribe of costermongers. He wore his “beaver up” when he was recognised by the M.A.’s, and received the nod from them as a student of _Brasen-nose_. The colours were tied to the stakes—the Sailor Boy the favourite.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The Sailor Boy was in prime twig; in fact, he never was, in
any of his preceding mills, anything like in such good condition.
His arms were peculiarly fine, and attracted the general notice of
the spectators. Raines did not appear so muscular a man as his
opponent, but nevertheless his frame was manly, and he exhibited
great strength. The Sailor Boy was in no hurry to commence the
attack, and some minutes elapsed before any attempt at hitting was
made. Jones made play, but Raines stopped well. A pause. The Sailor
Boy, rather furious, was going to work, but was again well parried
by Raines. It was observed by the London amateurs that Raines had
evidently improved in his knowledge of the science. In setting-to
with the gloves the Sailor Boy had always had the best of it.
Several minutes passed, and the stopping system was adopted by
Raines, until the Sailor Boy went in, and slashed away like a new
one. In closing fibbing was attempted on both sides. Jones broke
away cleverly, and milled his opponent down. “First blood!” from the
friends of Jones. Raines was piping a little, and the Sailor Boy
received shouts of applause from his “larned” friends belonging to
the “Univarsity.”

2.—The claret appeared slightly on Jones’s lips when he arrived at
the scratch. The Sailor Boy fought well—that is to say, cautiously.
Raines he looked upon as an ugly customer, although a tolerably
good-looking fellow in person. The latter made several good parries,
but did not try to plant any hits. Jones put in a heavy bodier with
his left hand. A pause, “Go to work,” was the cry, and “Why don’t
you, Mr. Poet Laureate (Fogo), put them together?” Jones planted a
facer. (“Bravo!”) Raines made a blow, but the Sailor Boy was on the
alert, and nothing was the matter. Exchange of blows passed between
them, and the fighting was rather sharp, until they closed. In
struggling for the throw Jones got his man down, but Raines threw
him over, and the Sailor Boy rolled out of the ring. The Sailor Boy
was decidedly the favourite with the Euclids, the Virgils, and the
Homers. But the “drag and tumbler” sort of folk rather fancied
Raines, and the odds were offered upon him by a few of them.

3.—The lads were just now upon their mettle, and the fight had
become interesting to the whole assembly of Greeks, Latins, and
yokels; in fact, all classes of society were in high glee. Raines
got away from mischief, but not out of trouble. At this instant a
gent stepped into the ring and made his way up to Peter, saying: “If
you are the director of this sort of thing, I must insist that you
desist. It is a breach of the peace!” Peter, mild as a lamb and
polite as a Chesterfield, observed, touching his tile to the man in
authority, “I hope, sir, you do not mean to stop the sport? You do
not intend to be so cruel? But if it is your wish, why, why, ——. The
second degree is now made out,” said Peter; “this interruption,
after the fight has commenced, is harder than the first baulk! Such
an occurrence has not happened for the last twenty years.” A noble
lord, upon a fine prad, in the shape of a beak, in an agitated tone
of voice, added: “Do not come into Essex; I will not permit it. You
will therefore do it at your peril!” In this dilemma the Greeks, the
Roman-y’s, the mathematical admirers of the angle hitting of Harry,
put forth all their lexicon of gammon to the unrelenting beaks, not
to make three or four thousand gentlemen look like fools; but it was
all U-P. “The Fancy,” exclaimed the hero of the _Brasen-nose_, “have
now acquired the third degree,” on hearing the member of the Upper
House say, “Beware of pitching your tents in Essex.” “It is the
hardest thing I ever heard, in my whole history of prose and poetry,
not to let the mill be finished anywhere to-day. I shall remember
him in my next epic.” Singing psalms to a dead neddy would have been
of the same service! The gents belonging to the Bench retired
outside of the crowd, and a ring court-martial was held for twelve
minutes, upon the propriety of “to mill or not to mill,” when it was
unanimously determined “that the fight between Harry Jones and
Raines was no go.” Thus, after the “bubble, bubble, toil and
trouble,” in the words of Shakespeare, it proved to be “Much Ado
about Nothing”—the spectators out of humour and ill-natured, the
nags tired, “Home, Sweet Home,” a long way off, and the rain coming
down nicely.

The ground was cleared in a few minutes. The stakes were drawn on the part of Raines, but his backer offered to increase the sum to £25 a side, so satisfied was he that Raines would have proved the conqueror.

On Saturday, the 14th of April, 1827, at Bulpham Fenn, Essex, about twenty-two miles from London, in an angle on the right of Brentwood and Romford, Harry Jones and Bob Simmonds, a well-known sporting “clergyman” (_anglicè_, a sweep), entered a twenty-four foot roped ring at one o’clock. Jones was attended by Peter Crawley and Fogo; Simmonds was seconded by Dav Hudson and Gybletts. Crawley won the toss. On setting-to, Simmonds, with great eagerness, attacked the Sailor Boy, but the steadiness of the latter soon gave him the advantage. Jones, cool and collected, waited for an opening, when he planted a rum one on the right eye of Mr. Simmonds, which not only produced confusion of vision, but floored the man of soot. Simmonds wished to appear cheerful on commencing the second round, but the spectators found out that he was of “no service” against a fine young man like Harry Jones. In the sixth round, the poor fellow received so severe a cross-buttock that he puffed like a pair of asthmatic bellows, after this shaking he fell down almost without a blow in every succeeding round. At the expiration of thirty-five minutes, and seventeen rounds, Simmonds acknowledged he was “up the flue.” Jones, he said, was too good for him, and that he could not get at the Sailor Boy. Jones won the battle without a scratch. Crawley and Fogo were extremely attentive to Harry. It was so hollow a thing on the side of Jones that not a sov. was sported upon the event. Upwards of a thousand persons were present.

In consequence of the interruption of the battle between Raines and Jones, a second match was made for £25 a-side, which was decided on Monday, the 4th of June, 1827. Watford, the rallying point, was gained without meeting with any particular objects worthy of note. At this place the office was given for Chipperfield Common, a distance of twenty-two miles from London; thither the disappointed Fancy repaired, but not without “lots of grumbling” at the long trot. However, the ride was delightful, and upon the whole it was pronounced a pleasant journey, and a tidy day’s sport. At ten minutes to two o’clock the Sailor Boy, habited as one of the true blue fraternity, threw his hat into the ring, accompanied by the Poet Laureate Fogo and Jack Clarke; Raines was not long behind him, attended by his seconds, Ned Stockman and a dragsman of the name of Woolley.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The Sailor Boy could not have been better as to condition,
and Raines was also in good trim as to his training. It seemed as if
the combatants were aware they had a long day before them, as
neither Jones nor Raines were in a hurry to go to work. Ten minutes
had elapsed in looking and dodging each other about, when Jones let
fly with his left hand, whilst Raines cleverly put on the stopper.
The latter boxer never commenced offensive operations, but always
waited for the attack. Jones also well knew that great danger was to
be apprehended by the countering of Raines, and therefore he was
extremely cautious, and thus are we enabled to account for this
precious long round. The seconds were at the four corners of the
ring like hackney coachmen upon a stand waiting for a fare. Several
of the spectators proposed to them to accept a cigar, smoke a pipe,
take a hand of cards, &c. At length a slight rally, or rather
exchanges, occurred, when stopping, dodging, offering, again took
place. Jones let fly, but Raines would not have it at any price.
Good stopping on both sides. “Go to work,” from all parts of the
ring, had not the slightest effect. The Sailor Boy made a hit with
his left hand, which was sharply returned by Raines; a little
milling took place, and both of them cried out “First blood,” but it
was a dead heat in this respect, a slight tinge of the claret
appearing on both of their mugs at the same instant. It would be a
waste of time to repeat all the stops, &c. The Sailor Boy at length
went in like a jolly fellow, and the fibbing system was resorted to,
hard and fast, on both sides, until they both went down, Raines
undermost. Forty minutes had now passed in sparring.

2.—This round was altogether as short. Some little stopping
occurred, until Jones went in as before, and finished the round by
tipping it to Raines and placing him undermost.

3.—Little bumps were observed upon the foreheads of both combatants,
but nothing like mischief had passed between them. The ear of Raines
had napped a little pepper. The latter endeavoured to put in a
right-handed blow, and, if it had told, summat might have been the
matter. Raines stopped well; but he did not fight until he was
compelled to defend himself. In closing, smart hitting on both sides
was administered, and the Sailor Boy was thrown out of the ropes.
(“Well done, Jem!” and lots of applause.)

4.—The nose of Raines looked red. For why? Jones’s left had given it
a sharp tap; he was also a little on the piping suit. At the ropes
Raines was fibbed by his opponent, and ultimately thrown.

5.—This was a tidy round, but the wind of Raines was rather
troubled; and both cautious in the extreme. Jones planted cleverly a
conker without any return, and repeated the dose. Parrying on both
sides, until Raines received a slight hit in the body, when he
staggered backwards and fell out of the ropes. (Two to one on
Jones.)

6.—The Sailor Boy always commenced milling, although cautious. He
gave Raines another nose-ender which sent him rather backwards;
Jones then went in, and had the best of it until Raines was thrown.

7.—It was clear to the spectators that Jones was now taking the
lead; he cleverly put in a jobber that made the nose of Raines not
only swell, but spoilt the shape of it. In closing Raines
endeavoured to be busy, but the Sailor Boy was the quicker; Raines
received the most punishment, and in going down was undermost.
(Jones for a trifle; in fact, the friends of Raines began to
perceive something was the matter.)

8.—Raines put in a sharp blow on the ear of Jones. (“Well done,
Jem!”) The Sailor Boy, however, returned the favour with interest—he
nosed his opponent, ditto and ditto. (Laughing by the crowd, and “It
is not fair to hit a man twice in one place.”) Raines in the
struggle was again down.

9.—This round was decidedly in favour of Jones. All his blows told.
The nose of Raines again caught it, and he was ultimately hit down.
(The Jonesites had now booked it that the Sailor Boy could win
without a scratch upon his face.)

10.—Not last; but interrupted. Jem made play, and slightly touched
the cheek of Jones; but the Sailor Boy returned another noser. They
closed, when some blows were exchanged; and the Sailor Boy broke
away. A long pause—both on the look-out. Counter-hits. Jones was
going to repeat the dose, when a gentleman on horseback rode up to
the ropes, followed by a constable with a staff in his hand, and
proclaimed, “In the same of the King I command you to desist.” The
assemblage immediately bowed submission and the combatants instantly
“cut their lucky.” The fight had lasted one hour and a quarter, but
the yokels were sadly disappointed, and expressed their anger by
loud hisses and groans. The motley group were soon in motion, and in
less than ten minutes the ground was summat like the “baseless
fabric of a vision;” not a cove was left behind. The nags soon felt
the persuaders, and the toddlers, puffing and blowing, were
compelled to put their best feet foremost in order to keep up with
the drags. Watford was once more the rallying point; and after a few
minutes’ conversation as to finishing the thing, a gentleman offered
his meadow near Bushey Lodge, within a mile and a half of the town,
which was gladly accepted. Here the Commissary-General and his pal
knocked up the ring almost before you could say “Jack Robinson,” and
at a quarter to six the men were again in attitude.

THE FIGHT (PART II.).

Round 1.—The Sailor Boy looked as fresh as a daisy, while Raines
appeared none the better for the delay. He was rather stiff, and his
right hand was a little swelled. Raines made some good stops; but
Jones now seemed determined to finish the thing well, and went up to
his man, fought with Raines, had the best of it, and downed him.

2.—The left eye of Raines had napped pepper in the last round; and
Jones lost no time in polishing off his opponent. He closed, and
fibbed Raines severely until he got him down; but the Sailor Boy
held up his hand to show he would not do anything wrong. (“Bravo!”
and Jones three to one.)

3.—Short; but all in favour of Jones. Raines down.

4.—The mug of Raines was covered with claret, and Jones again fibbed
him off his pins.

5.—Jem was getting abroad, and he hit at random; however, it was a
milling round on both sides, and Jones did not get off without some
clumsy thumps. Both down, Raines undermost.

6.—Sharp work at the ropes. The Sailor Boy held his antagonist and
tipped it him until he went down.

7.—This round decided the fight. Raines was punished all over the
ring until he was down.

8–12.—It was as nice as ninepence to Jones. In the ninth round
Raines was done, and time was called three times before he was
brought to the scratch, and even then he was quite stupid; he,
however, recovered, and fought the remaining rounds—or rather stood
up to be punished—until Jones was declared the conqueror in twenty
minutes.

REMARKS.—Raines never attempted to fight—that is to say, he always
waited for the attack. He countered at times well, but showed
himself more of a sparrer than a milling cove. The Sailor Boy did
everything in his power to win; he fought with capital science, and
likewise bravely. By the above battle he has risen in the estimation
of his friends. Jones will not stand still for backers; and no doubt
the Sailor Boy will soon throw up his hat again in the P.R.

After Reuben Martin had defeated “the Gas,” on Tuesday, October 16th, 1827, at Westbourn Common, Sussex, Harry Jones and Ike Dodd entered the ring. To detail the rounds of this fight would be not only a waste of time but of paper. Dodd stood like a chopping-block, and was completely at the service of the Sailor Boy during thirty-four minutes and eighteen rounds. Jones took the lead, kept it, and finished off Dodd with the utmost ease. He won the battle without a scratch upon his face; while, on the contrary, the mug of Dodd exhibited divers blows in sundry places. Jones was seconded by Curtis and Stockman, and Ike Dodd by Joe Fishwick and Lewellin. The above battle was for only £10 a-side and a trifling subscription purse.

After considerable chaffing, letter-writing, and even blows upon the subject, a match for £25 a-side was made with Bill Savage and Harry Jones. The latter went into training at Shirley’s, New Inn, Staines, and conducted himself like a man desirous to do credit to himself, and likewise to satisfy his backers. This match was decided on Tuesday, March 20th, 1828, in the same field, near Chertsey, in which Barney Aaron and Redmond were to have fought. A few minutes before one o’clock Jones entered the ring, attended by Young Sam and Ned Stockman. Some trifling delay occurred before Savage put in an appearance, during which time Dick Curtis, owing to some misunderstanding with the backer of Jones, turned round and took five to four for a good stake. This circumstance rather alarmed the betting men, it being previously understood that Curtis was to have acted as second to Jones. Savage threw his castor into the ropes, and Curtis and Alec Reid entered as his seconds.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Jones was in tip-top condition, and armed at all points for
his antagonist. The appearance of Savage did not indicate so much
muscle and strength; nevertheless, he was considered up to the mark.
He had also the advantage of a stone in weight and two inches in
height. Some little time occurred in sparring, when Jones
endeavoured to plant a facer with his left hand, but Savage stopped
it skilfully, and got away. The latter retreated to a corner of the
ring, and hit out; but it was “no go,” Harry being too cunning. The
science on both sides was admired, and the parries were excellent.
Jones, eager to go to work, touched Mr. Savage’s _os frontis_ rather
“nasty,” when a close took place, and both combatants endeavoured to
serve it out, until both were down.

2.—The Sailor Boy was too fast for Savage; the latter retreated, but
napped two nobbers. In closing, Savage was bored to the ropes, and
Jones tried on the fibbing system with success, until both went
down.

3.—The Sailor Boy made good use of his science, but Savage stopped
several hits like a pugilist. Jones went in, pelting away, and
caught hold of Savage by the neck with one hand, and made some blows
tell with the other. Savage was not idle in returning upon the body
of Jones. Savage was thrown, and “First blood” called out by Young
Sam, which was discovered upon the lip of Savage.

4.—Jones seemed quite confident that he had nothing to fear from his
opponent, and commenced milling without delay, but Savage made
several good parries. The Sailor Boy slipped down, but jumped up
with so much gaiety as to floor his opponent, (“Harry, go it; that’s
the time of day—it is winning, and nothing else.”)

5.—Jones, without ceremony, planted two nobbers; he also caught hold
of his adversary and gave him a severe cross-buttock, shaking
Savage, his nob coming on the grass and his pins in the air.
(“There’s a burster!” said the Lively Kid; and the friends of Jones
were loud in their marks of approbation. Seven to four.)

6.—Savage showed game to the backbone, and rallying was the result;
in closing, both were down.

7.—Jones’s left hand was exceedingly troublesome, but Savage several
times made skilful stops. In fact, this was a well-fought round on
both sides, until the combatants were upon the ground.

8–10.—The gameness of Savage was the admiration of the ring in all
these rounds; and he also satisfied the spectators that he was not
deficient in science. Savage’s left eye was in mourning and
otherwise damaged, and his face exhibited severe marks of
punishment. Jones took the lead, kept it like a master, and finished
all the rounds in his favour. The mug of the Sailor Boy was as clear
from blows as when he commenced the battle. (Two to one and higher
odds on Jones.)

11–13.—All these rounds were decidedly in favour of Jones; and the
latter showed himself also the best man in obtaining the falls.
Savage was floored by a tremendous hit on his left peeper; and his
pimple shook again from the violent effects of the blow.

14.—Savage was under good instruction, having the Pet of the Fancy
at his elbow, and Bill endeavoured to profit by his advice;
nevertheless, the Sailor Boy could not be reduced, and he, in
general, finished the round in his favour.

15.—Counter-hits, but Savage had the worst of the punishment. (“Long
bowls,” said Curtis to Savage, “will not answer; you must yard-arm
it with your adversary.”) Savage endeavoured to do as Curtis wished
him, and he resolutely went in to work; the Sailor Boy hit him right
away, enough to floor an ox, but the Welshman was too game to go
down. Savage continued the round in the highest style of courage,
until he was thrown cleverly. (“Any odds,” and “Jones, it is all
your own.”)

Any further detail of the rounds would be useless; enough has been
stated to show that the Sailor Boy was completely the hero of the
tale, and reduced conquest almost to a certainty. Jones had never
lost the lead for a moment, but he now took it most decidedly. If
Savage stood out he was jobbed—if he went in he was weaved and
thrown. The fine fighting of Jones was the admiration of the whole
ring, and the delight of all who had not risked their money against
him. But Savage fully supported his character as one of the gamest
of the game; though he had not the slightest chance of winning he
refused to give in, and continued to obey the call of time, in spite
of reiterated cries of “Take him away!” In the twenty-first round
Harry planted a left-hander on Bill’s nose, and also threw him
heavily. In the thirty-second round Savage fought with amazing
spirit, and put in two or three good right-handed bodiers, but Jones
finished the round by giving him a tremendous cross-buttock. In the
thirty-fifth round Harry was winded and was troubled with sickness,
no uncommon occurrence with him in a long fight. Savage, cheered on
by Curtis, endeavoured to take advantage of this circumstance and
some little alarm was in fact felt by those who were not well
acquainted with Harry; but the efforts of Savage were entirely vain.
Sick as he was, Harry had the best of the round, and in the
half-minute’s respite that followed Jones brought up the troublesome
matter, and was soon “all right” again. In the forty-ninth round
Jones threw Savage and fell on him, but under the able management of
his seconds he recovered sufficiently to obey the call of “Time.” It
was clear, however, that Savage could not see his man. Ned Savage
entered the ring in the fifty-fourth round and threw up his hat,
declaring that his brother should fight no more. Harry capered about
the ring for victory, but to the surprise of all present Bill
declared he would not give in. He fought or rather groped his way
through a couple more rounds, when his seconds, seeing that he had
not the “shadow of a shade” of chance took him away, and Harry Jones
was declared the victor, after a most gallant fight of fifty-six
rounds, in one hour and thirty-five minutes.

REMARKS.—Savage showed himself as brave a man as ever pulled off a
shirt, and as being able to stop with considerable skill. His blows
did not tell in out-fighting, his distances were incorrect, and when
he closed he could not punish. He had hitherto been considered a
good wrestler, but Harry almost always threw him. Indeed, poor Bill
received more than twenty, perhaps we might say thirty,
cross-buttocks, each of which was terribly effective. Harry Jones
showed tactics of the very highest order. It is difficult to say
which we had most occasion to admire—his out-fighting or
in-fighting. He was evidently notwithstanding the disparity in size,
much stronger than Savage, and, in fact, so fine was his science
that he quitted the ring with hardly a mark on his face, and
returned to Staines to dine so little “the worse for wear” that a
stranger could not have discovered from his appearance that he had
been fighting. His brave but unfortunate antagonist, on the
contrary, was borne off the ground to the “Cricketers” public-house,
where he was put to bed. The fight would have been brought to a
conclusion much sooner had not Jones, in the early part of the
action, sprained his left arm in one of the falls. The injury
prevented the use of his left hand throughout the rest of the fight.
Not the slightest dispute took place during the whole of the fight.
Jones was often deservedly applauded for his forbearance in
releasing Savage when he was entirely at his mercy, and, upon the
whole, it was as fair, clever, and manly a battle as the best
well-wishers to honest pugilism would desire to witness.

Jones had now given undeniable proofs of more than ordinary boxing qualifications. In fact by many fanciers he was declared to be the best ten stone man on the list. Ned Stockman, however, “the Lively Kid,” at that time a first favourite in sporting circles, strenuously denied this at all times and places, pointing to his early defeats of Harry, twice for purses (of course impromptu affairs), and later for £25 in the regular P.R., at Epping, in 1824. Mr. Stockman, however, had forgotten that Harry had been improving in bone and stamina (he was only twenty-one), while “the Lively Kid” had been “going the pace” in very fast company. Ned soon got on a match for £25 a-side, and, all going smoothly, articles were signed, and he met Harry Jones at Shere Mere, on the 16th September, 1828. A clever fight on the part of Stockman, not without occasional game rallies, almost uniformly to the advantage of the Sailor Boy, in the forty-third round ended in Stockman’s defeat, his chances being quite out some time before the finale.

Barney Aaron, whose victorious career we have just given, was the Sailor Boy’s next opponent. In weight the men were about equal, but the fame of the “Star of the East” shone so brightly that the £100 staked were already “as good as won,” and so discounted by the denizens of Duke’s Place. But the soundness of Mark Twain’s advice, “never to prophesy unless you know,” received here another illustration. On the 11th of November, 1828, at the Barge House, Woolwich Marshes, the renowned Barney struck his colours to the gallant Sailor Boy, after eighteen sharp fighting rounds, lasting fifteen minutes only.

Tom Reidie, “the Colonel,” conceiting himself upon his shifty performance among the cabbages at Battersea, already noticed, having spoken disparagingly of Harry’s victory as “a fluke,” followed it up by expressing a wish that “somebody” would back him for “half a hundred,” and let him “stand in a tenner of his own.” A patron of the “silver” or “copper hell,” whereof the Colonel was for the time being “groom-porter,” volunteered “the needful,” and, in the short period of seven weeks from his victory over Aaron, the Sailor Boy was face to face with Reidie at Hurley Bottom, Berks, on the 30th of December, 1828, for £15 a-side. This time the Colonel’s “strategic movements to the rear” entirely failed him. The stakes and ropes enclosed him in the limits of twenty-four feet, and in less than that number of minutes (the fight lasted twenty-two, minutes) down went Tom Reidie for the last time, at the close of the sixteenth round, perfectly satisfied that he had quite another “boy” to deal with than the lad he had tired out in Battersea Fields.

Frank Redmond, whose game battles with Barney Aaron we have already chronicled in these pages, proposed to try conclusions with the Sailor Boy for a stake of £100 a-side, which Jones had now little difficulty in getting together. It was a game and, for a few rounds, a tremendous struggle, but Harry had “a little more left in him” in the last three rounds (there were only ten in all), and in thirty-six minutes he was hailed the victor of a well-fought field.

We should unduly extend the bulk of our volumes did we attempt to give the detailed rounds of all the fights of the minor celebrities to whom we have given niches in our gallery of pugilistic pen-portraits. We shall therefore summarise Harry’s other battles by merely enumerating them.

On the 19th May, 1829, at Harpenden Common, he fought and beat George Watson for a stake of £50 a-side. Time, thirty-nine minutes; rounds, thirty.

June 7th, 1831, beat Dick Hill (the Nottingham Champion), for £100 a-side, at Bagthorpe Common, Notts, in sixty-nine rounds, eighty minutes.

Harry next met “the Oxford Pet,” Perkins, whose victory over Dick Curtis had placed him on a pinnacle above his real merits as a boxer. On January 17th, 1832, Harry Jones disposed of “the Pet’s” lofty pretensions in twenty-two rounds, occupying forty-six minutes only. The battle was fought at Hurley Bottom.

On April 2nd, 1833, Jones, who had just recovered from a long illness, fought Gipsy Jack Cooper for £25 a-side, at Chertsey. It was a long and tedious battle, with heavy punishment on both sides, for two hours and ten minutes, twenty-six long rounds, when Jones was hailed as conqueror.

For some time Harry, who was suffering from a chronic disease of the lungs, caused by exposure, earned money by sitting at Somerset House as an artists’ model; and we can well say a finer bust and arms for an athlete, or an exemplar of muscular development and symmetry, could rarely be met with. As poor Harry, too, was a civil-spoken and good-looking fellow, he had a numerous _clientèle_.

Another “Sailor Boy,” with the prefix of the words “The East End,” hight Tom Smith, was now in the field. He was ten stone four pounds; and having disposed of the nine stone lad, Owen Swift, and also Jack Adams and Aaron, he challenged Harry. The match was made for £50 a-side, and the two “Sailor Boys” met at Shrubs Hill, Bucks, on the 17th June, 1834. Harry was no longer the “Gay Sailor Boy.” His heart was sound, but his breathing apparatus was rapidly going out of repair, and in five rounds, occupying only fourteen minutes, down went poor Harry for the last time, and his colours and the £50 were the prize of “the East End Sailor Boy.”

Soon afterwards Jones became an inmate of the Westminster Hospital, where he died on the 14th April, 1835, at the early age of twenty-eight years.

JACK PERKINS (“THE OXFORD PET”). 1827–1830.

Among the ten stone boxers who ran a bright but brief career we note Jack Perkins, “the Oxford Pet,” renowned chiefly for his victory over the theretofore unconquered Dick Curtis.

Perkins’s first recorded battle, at the age of nineteen, with Bailey Wakelin, an Oxonian pugilist nearly a stone his superior in weight, spread his fame among the “gownsmen.” The affair came off at Radley Common, on the 30th January, 1827, for £25 a-side, “the Pet” polishing off his opponent in twenty-three active rounds, occupying thirty-two minutes only.

His next appearance in buff was with Godfrey, an Oxford waterman, at Henson, near the University City, on the 3rd of July, 1827. In the seventh round, after twenty-eight minutes’ fighting, the referee awarded the fight to Godfrey (against whom two and three to one was current), on the ground that Perkins had got down without a blow. Godfrey refused a second trial.

Perkins’s next match was with a well-known London man, Jem Raines.[57] The battle was for £25 a-side, and came off at Penton Hook, near Staines, on the 21st August, 1828. The Londoner’s skill was completely outshone by the provincial professor, who out-fought and in-fought, rallied, and sent down poor Jem for about a dozen of the twenty-five rounds which comprised the battle, lasting forty-four minutes.

Perkins was now voted a don in the “University of Fives,” and was soon matched by some of his “undergrad” admirers with Dick Price, of whose qualifications a slight instance is given in the sketch of Harry Jones, in a previous page of this Appendix. Perkins’s fight with Dick Price, at Wantage, Berks, on October 15th, 1828, in which Price had for seconds Peter Crawley and Dick Curtis, from London, was a one-sided affair, the Oxford Pet knocking down the eleven stone butcher in the second and third rounds, and administering punishment _ad lib._ until the sixteenth and last, when the fight was over. Time sixty-two minutes.

On this occasion some chaffing between Curtis and Perkins produced all ill feeling, and in the very next issue of _Bell’s Life_ we find “a friend from Oxford” was commissioned to stake for a match with Curtis for £100 a side, and articles were signed for a meeting between the two “Pets.” Curtis forfeited on the second deposit, being matched to fight Edwards for £200 a-side in the ensuing February. This match also ending this time in a forfeit to Curtis, the affair with Perkins was resumed. We may here note that Curtis was at this period suffering from an attack of rheumatic gout, and that he stated this fact in reply to a challenge of one Joseph Hudson Gardener to fight for £300, in April, 1829. A “short-notice” battle was eventually agreed upon for £100 a-side, and the day fixed for the 30th December, 1828.

In London and its vicinity, Curtis, who had pursued a long career of glory, and who, in all his battles, had never been beaten, was considered almost invincible; and few, in the first instance, were disposed to lay against him, although seven to four and two to one were repeatedly offered. As the time of fighting approached, however, more minute inquiries were made respecting the merits of his opponent, and those who had had opportunities of judging described him as a customer of no ordinary stamp. He had been, like Dick, successful in all his contests, and was described by those who knew him best as a scientific pugilist—active on his legs, a straight and severe hitter with his left, a good getter away, and distinguished for sound bottom. Independent of this, it was known that he was at least a stone heavier than Curtis, weighing when stripped ten stone four pounds, while Dick was booked at nine stone at most. He was also five years younger than Curtis, being scarcely twenty, while Dick was twenty-five; and those who knew the habits of the latter were perfectly aware that they were not such—since he had been in the habit of “seeing the gas turned off”—as to improve his stamina or increase his muscular powers.

Both men went immediately into active training—Curtis to Hartley Row, and Perkins, first in Oxfordshire, and latterly to Mr. Shirley’s, the New Inn, at Staines, whose system of training and unremitting care of the men entrusted to his charge placed him deservedly high in the estimation of the best judges. It was observed that both men were uncommonly attentive to their exercise, and both were acknowledged to be in excellent condition. These were points to which particular attention was paid as the period of the last deposit approached, and the friends of Perkins exhibited an increasing confidence, many boldly asserting that Curtis would find himself mistaken in his estimate of the talent of his opponent, and others boldly asserting that they thought he was overmatched—a stone being far too much for any man to give away, where it was accompanied by a corresponding proportion of science and game. Still, such was the deep-rooted prejudice in favour of Curtis, and such the confidence in his generalship and cutting severity of punishment, that the great majority of the Metropolitans considered it next to treason to harbour a thought of his defeat. There were those, however, who were not quite so bigoted in their opinions, and who, viewing the merits of the men dispassionately, were disposed to think that Curtis, as well as many of his gallant contemporaries, might find an equal, if not a superior, in the art which he professed. Among this class were found ready takers of the long odds of two to one, and subsequently of seven to four—but on the night of the last deposits the odds were taken to a large amount at six to four.

On the Monday evening the road to Maidenhead, which was appointed headquarters, was crowded with vehicles of all descriptions, and every house which would receive such visitors was crowded to excess. Curtis and his backers cast anchor at the “Sun,” and Perkins, under the auspices of the Oxford Dragsman, brought to at the “Dumb Bell,” on the London side of Maidenhead Bridge. Curtis was accompanied by Tom Reidie, who had trained with him, and Perkins by Harry Jones.

Tuesday morning produced a numerous accession to the multitude, and countless vehicles continued to pour in as the day advanced, embracing some of the most distinguished patrons of the Ring, and giving ample occupation to the postmasters.

At an early hour Tom Oliver and his assistant, Frosty-faced Fogo, proceeded to form the milling arena in the Parish Meadow, at Hurley Bottom, Berks, thirty-four miles from London, and close to the banks of the Thames—in summer no doubt a very desirable spot, but in the winter season, from the marshy state of the soil, anything but eligible, especially for those who had to travel in heavy vehicles. Several of these stuck fast in the yielding soil, and the casualties which followed were of the most ludicrous description—many of the inmates, who till then had escaped the miseries of damp feet, being obliged to alight, and, ankle deep in mud, to scramble to that portion of the turf which was still capable of bearing their weight. Having encountered these dangers “by flood and field,” they reached the ring, which was admirably constructed, and surrounded by an ample supply of wagons, flanked by an immense number of carriages of every denomination. As a proof of the interest excited we may state that the crowd assembled was estimated at more than 5,000 persons.

At one o’clock the men had arrived on the ground, sporting their respective colours—Curtis a bright orange, Perkins a crimson. The bustle of preparation was soon visible. The whips were distributed to the men appointed by the Fair Play Club, and the stragglers were driven back to the outer ring of rope which had been constructed near to the wagons. Shortly after Dick Curtis approached the scene of action, accompanied by Josh Hudson and Young Dutch Sam, and was soon followed by Perkins, under the guidance of Tom Spring and Harry Holt. On meeting within the ring they shook hands, and immediately commenced stripping. Both looked well in health; but it was impossible not to observe that there was a rustic hardiness in the appearance of Perkins, very different from that of Curtis, who, nevertheless, had that sleekness and delicacy in his aspect which one is apt to ascribe to superior breed or higher blood. On stripping this contrast was still more apparent; for while Curtis showed that beautiful symmetry of person for which he was so distinguished, and which would have formed a perfect model for the sculptor, Perkins was rough, square, and muscular in appearance. His head, too, being stripped in patches of its hair, from the effect of ringworm in early life, gave him rather the cut of a ragged colt just caught upon the mountain wilds than the well-groomed nag coming from the stud of an indulgent master. Overcoming first impression, however, on seeing both men stripped, it was impossible not to discover at a glance the great disparity in point of size between the men. Perkins appeared to us to be at least two inches taller than Curtis, and every way larger in proportion. He was well pinned, with substantial thighs, and his shoulders and arms showed powerful muscle, though his loins were thin. His phiz, too, exhibited various scars, which were convincing proofs that he had been engaged in encounters of no trifling character. He evinced a great coolness in his manner, and, as throughout his training, booked victory as certain. Curtis looked to us light, but, nevertheless, in high favour with himself. Many old followers of the stakes did not hesitate on seeing the men for the first time stripped in fair comparison to exclaim, “Dick is overmatched,” an opinion which had often been expressed before, but met with little attention. Everything being in readiness the men were conducted to the scratch and commenced.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The positions of both men were good. Curtis, his head a
little advanced, his arms well up, and his eye measuring his man
with the piercing look of the eagle. Perkins, his head rather on one
side, and thrown a little back, his right hand well up, to stop
Dick’s left, and his left ready for a fling. Each manœuvred and
changed ground. Dick made several feints with his left, but Perkins
was not to be drawn from his caution. (“He’s not to be kidded!”
cried one of the Oxonians.) Dick crept in, tried to draw his man
once or twice, but it would not do. Perkins stood well to his guard.
Five minutes were occupied in this way, and not a blow struck; at
last Dick plunged in with his left, which was stopped, but he
delivered with his right. Good counter-hits were exchanged in a
rally, Dick catching the left between his eyes, which made them
twinkle, and the right on the tip of his conk. Perkins instantly
stepped back and exclaimed. “First blood!” at the same time pointing
to Dick’s nose, and sure enough the purple fluid came gurgling
forth. Dick, undismayed, bustled up to his man, and caught him
heavily on the mouth with his left. Perkins got well away, but no
time was lost in again getting to a rally; Dick would not be denied,
and got close to his man. Perkins again put in a left-handed facer,
but had a tremendous hit in return from Dick’s right, which cut him
over the corner of the left eye, and drew a copious stream of blood.
Both again drew back, but Dick suffered no time to elapse, rushed in
to deliver, and after two or three exchanges Perkins went down from
a slight hit. The round lasted seven minutes, and the fighting on
both sides was excellent, and acknowledged by the most sceptical to
be better than was expected on the part of the Oxford Pet.

2.—Dick again came up in beautiful position, while Perkins seemed
perfectly at home, and nowise dismayed by Dick’s “ocular
demonstration.” Perkins waited; and Dick, after two or three feints
with his left, made a good hit with his right, but was well
countered by Perkins. A sharp and active rally followed, in which
Perkins caught it on the nozzle, and was on a par with his opponent,
for he too showed abundance of claret. In the end Perkins was down,
though not a decided knock-down blow.

3.—Perkins came up fresh as a kitten, while Dick looked deeply
intent on his work. Dick hit out with his left, but was cleverly
stopped. Perkins made a similar effort, but was likewise stopped.
Dick then rushed in to hit, while Perkins retreated and fell back at
the ropes, half out of the ring. (Shouts for Dick.)

4.—Dick’s face was now a good deal flushed, and the first hit
between the ogles began to show its effects, as his right eye became
discoloured. Dick, after a leary feint, rushed in to hit with his
left; but Perkins, with great steadiness, parried the compliment,
and smiled. Dick finding he could not plant his favourite nobbers,
now tried the body, and popped in two or three pretty hits in the
bread-basket with his left. Perkins was not idle, and caught him on
the side of the head with his right. Both were again cautious, and
Perkins covered his upper works in good style; he was always ready
to counter with his left as he stopped with his right. Dick saw
this, and repeated his body blows, leaving pretty obvious marks from
his knuckles; Perkins did not return. Good counter-hits at the nob
right and left, and both away. Again to manœuvring, when Dick’s body
hit was stopped; he then rushed in and hit Perkins open-handed with
his left. Perkins returned with his left, catching him on the mouth,
and a few slight exchanges followed. Dick again had him in the body
with his left. After a short pause a fine slashing rally followed,
and some jobbing hits were delivered on both sides, but little
advantage was observable. The punishment received by Dick, however,
was more obvious; in the end Perkins fell. This was a fine manly
round, and excited general applause; and from Dick’s steadiness, his
friends’ confidence increased.

5.—The symmetry of Dick’s more delicate physog. was a good deal
altered, while Perkins’s only showed the cut over his right eye, and
still preserved his coolness and self-possession. Dick again planted
his left-handed body hit, but was idle with his right; in fact,
Perkins was so well guarded as to bid defiance to his usual sharp
and cutting jobs. A short rally, in which hits were exchanged, and
both went down easy, Perkins under.

6.—Dick tried to plant his left on Perkins’s nob, but he got well
away, and succeeded in stopping a second attempt at his body.
Perkins made two excellent stops right and left at his head, but
napped it in the ribs; this did not seem to affect him, and he
preserved his steadiness in a manner little expected from a yokel.
Good stops on both sides, and an admirable display of science;
Perkins stopped right and left, but his returns passed beside Dick’s
head, and were rather at random; hits were interchanged, though not
of great moment, and in the close Perkins went down.

7.—Dick fought a little open-mouthed, and seemed somewhat crabbed at
not being able to reach his man. He took a drop of brandy-and-water
and again went to action. Perkins still steady and collected, and
evidently as strong as a horse. Dick resumed his feinting system,
and caught Perkins cleverly with his left, while he delivered his
right heavily on his collar-bone. Had this reached his canister, as
was no doubt intended, it would have told tales, but Perkins’s
activity on his legs enabled him to step back in time. Dick put in
three body blows in succession with his left, but they did not seem
to tell on the iron carcass of Perkins. Dick then rushed in to
punish, but Perkins, in retreating, fell, and pulled him upon him.
(Dick’s friends were still satisfied all was right, and booked
winning as certain. But little betting took place, so intense was
the interest excited by every move.)