Chapter VII: Harry Orme

1849-1853.

The brown-skinned, hardy, game, and resolute boxer, whose name heads this somewhat brief biography, demands a niche in our gallery of prize pugilists who have aspired to the Championship, were it only for the obstinately contested battles in which he was engaged on each of the four occasions in which he made a public appearance in the twenty-four foot enclosure. In the short period between December, 1849, and April, 1853, Harry advanced from the position of a “novice” to that of a candidate, and a very dangerous one, for the Championship of England; reckoning among those who succumbed to his prowess, Aaron Jones (twice), the accomplished Nat Langham――the only conqueror of Tom Sayers――and closing his career by one of the most memorable battles of modern times, in which he fell before the conquering arm of Harry Broome.

Harry Orme was by birth a Londoner, having first seen daylight at Old Ford, near Bow, in the month of May, 1826; in which year, also, were born his antagonist, Harry Broome, and the yet more renowned Tom Sayers, doubtless under the influence of some pugilistic planet. Harry, who “came of decent people,” was introduced to the London Ring with less preliminary paragraphing than usual; he was an East-Ender by birth, parentage, and associations, and an East-Ender he remained to the end of his career.

It so happened that in the year 1849, Jem Burn, the Mæcenas of millers, had among his visitors at the “Queen’s Head” a powerful big one, hight Aaron Jones, of Shrewsbury, 20 years of age, weighing 11st. 4lb., standing 5ft. 10½in. in his stocking-feet, who had friends among the “proud Salopians,” who were anxious to get on a match with any “trial horse” Jem might select for their promising novice. Jones had passed a favourable “competitive examination” in the sparring schools, and Jem had declared, with a qualifying _if_, that “_If_ there was the right stuff in him he was big enough and clever enough for anything then on the list.” The “sages of the East” were of opinion that they had a novice as good as he of the West, so Harry, after taking stock of his opponent _in futuro_ at a sparring _soirée_ in Windmill Street, returned to his friends at the “Blue Anchor,” and “reported progress.” The result was favourable to a venture of the East against the West, the Orientals already well knowing that their man would take a great deal of beating to turn him from brown to blue. Articles were accordingly formulated at Mr. Hunter’s, “Weavers’ Arms,” Kingsland Road, with deposits at “Jolly Jem’s,” for a fight to come off on the 18th December, 1849, each man not to exceed 11st. 4lb. on the day before the fight. Frimley Green, Surrey, was duly reached per train on the day appointed, and at a quarter to one, in a drizzle of cold rain, the men entered the ring. The “Shrewsbury Youth” was waited on by Jack Hannan and Bob Fuller, the pedestrian; Orme by two well-known East End professionals, Joe Rowe and John Hazeltine. Umpires and a referee were quickly agreed upon; and the colours, a blue birdseye for Orme, and a fancy orange, shot with green, with a blue border, for Jones, being knotted to the stake, the men and their seconds crossed hands, and the principal performers stood up for

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Considering that the men were novices, there
was a good deal of money laid out on the mill, Jones
being made the favourite at 5 and 6 to 4――chiefly from
having the wealthier backers. He certainly, though
young and light downwards, was lathy, long, and
muscular, and looked dangerously like a fighter; while
Orme, compact, well knit, and determined, seemed, with
his mahogany frontispiece and walnut-brown skin, more
like a gipsy than ever. Orme squared his elbows in the
old-fashioned style that was called “navigatorish;”
while Jones, though awkward and nervous, showed the
superior school in which he had graduated. The Young
One tried his left, but Orme jumped away, going bang
against one of the stakes. The men crept close again,
each sparring in what was meant to be a finished style,
till Jones let fly with his left, but almost out of
distance, so that he barely reached his man. After
feeling his way again, Jones let go, but was stopped
neatly, and in the exchanges that followed Orme threw
in his right heavily on Jones’s left cheek. There was
weight in this blow; the Young One shook his head as if
puzzled, then went in resolutely. Orme missed his one,
two. A rally followed, during which Jones hit Orme in
the mouth, and received on the right eye in return.
Both rolled down. In this, his very first round within
the ropes, it was seen that Orme’s favourite weapon was
his right, and that he was a heavy hitter.

2 to 6.――These rounds were much alike, and although
there were some sharp exchanges all through them, they
were tedious. Novices are generally in one extreme or
the other; they either rush at their opponents as if
fights were to be won in a gallop, or else are
ambitious to show how scientific they are, and so spar
and manœuvre without any definite end in view. The
fighting took place chiefly in Orme’s corner, the
length of arm possessed by Jones forcing his opponent
to retreat; here they manœuvred and jumped in and out,
till at last they got close, and then staggering
counter-hits would be exchanged. The closes were
scrambling affairs, and generally ended in the men
rolling down together.

7.――Another tedious example of ring manœuvring, without
the skill which makes such fiddling, squaring,
advancing, retreating, feinting, and shifting
tolerable. Both novices, however, were actuated by a
desire not to throw a chance away; but on a wet
December day a little less generalship and busier work
would have suited the spectators. The round lasted 27
minutes, but tedious as it was, it was wound up by a
slashing rally, in which the big ones hit with all
their steam. Jones drew _first blood_ in profusion from
Orme’s nose and mouth, while Harry delivered his right
with tremendous force on Jones’s left ribs and left
eye, badly marking the one and almost entirely closing
the other.

8.――Both slow in answering the call of time; more than
a minute elapsed before they appeared at the scratch,
the heavy hitting in the last round having told its
tale. Orme, instead of going in and taking advantage of
his weight and power of arm, stood out and retreated,
by advice of his friends. The round lasted 17 minutes,
and at last was closed by another desperate rally,
Jones improving in his style, and using both hands
well, but the returns of Orme were heaviest and most
effective. Jones threw Orme cleverly in the close.

9.――Jones jobbed Orme on the nose, and then on the
cheek, but the blows, although well from the shoulder,
left no mark. Orme seemed remarkably slow in showing
contusions, while Jones was already much disfigured.
Jones forced Orme towards his corner; Orme rushed
forward as Jones retreated in turn; he let go both left
and right viciously, but was short. Jones lunged out
desperately with his right, and nailing Orme on the
side of the head, knocked him clean down in the middle
of the ring. (Cheers for the Shrewsbury Youth. First
knock-down for Jones.)

10.――Orme came up smiling, and as Jones made himself up
for following his supposed advantage, surprised him by
dashing in and planting his left a smasher on the nose.
A pounding rally followed, in which some heavy
counter-hitting took place, each man standing well to
his gun, until Jones fell under the ropes.

For the next fifteen rounds the fighting grew quicker,
the sparring less tedious, and the rallies more
frequent. Jones, taking a leaf out of his opponent’s
book, planted several slashing hits with his right on
the side of Orme’s head, but being the taller man, he
frequently hit too high, and his hand, rather than
Orme’s hard skull, suffered. The East-Ender took his
punishment patiently, and was with Jones in nearly all
his attempts, with heavy right-handers on the left
ribs, which gradually impaired the force of Jones’s
hitting, and when they got closer still, his ponderous
right fell on his cheek-bone or temple, till Jones was
nearly blinded. The Shrewsbury man, however, was yet as
strong as Orme, and was the better wrestler, for he
threw his adversary in several of these rounds. Towards
the 25th round, however, the repeated right-handers of
Orme began to tell their tale, and Jones grew slower
and weaker. In the last-mentioned round Orme led off,
and hit Jones sharply in the head, repeating the dose
without a return. Jones attempted to force a rally, but
Orme got down more cleverly than heretofore. Jones
fought with great fairness, and was much applauded.

26.――Orme showed few marks of punishment, and was sent
up by his seconds very clean, while Jones grew more
disfigured each round. The men fought somewhat wildly,
but managed to exchange some stinging counters, which
led to a close; but Jones was now unable to throw his
opponent, and both were down.

27 to 35.――(Two hours and twenty-nine minutes had
elapsed, and no odds were obtainable; indeed, it was
yet on the cards for either to win.) Burn called to his
man, Jones, to come away from Orme’s corner, and let
the East-Ender come to him. Jones, who was evidently
distressed, did so, and the same style of fighting was
pursued. Jones fell from weakness in the 32nd round,
which Orme noting, he forced the fighting again, and,
in the 35th round delivered several of his slogging
hits at close quarters with such staggering effect that
Jones, whose returns were slight, dropped in the rally.

36.――The last two or three rounds had told their tale,
and it was evident that Jones’s chance was fading. (3
to 1 offered on Orme without takers.) Jones came up as
game as a man could be, and still tried to look
cheerful; but his knees were tottery, and he was
plainly “going.” Orme went to him, forced another
rally, and, after one or two heavy hits, dropped him
with a right-hander. (“Take him away.”)

37 and 38.――In each of these rounds Jones came to the
scratch, and made one or two futile attempts to stop
his adversary’s rush, dropping on his knee on receiving
a hit from Orme.

39.――Orme paused, as if hesitating to strike his
opponent, who was quite at his mercy. Jones made a peck
at him, and received a touch on the old spot in the
ribs. It was but a push, yet it sent him to grass
sideways.

40.――Loud cries of “Take him away!” Jones faced his
opponent for the fortieth time, but he was all abroad.
Orme gradually forced him back into his corner, and
harmlessly sent him down, when Hannan threw up the
sponge in token of Jones’s defeat.

The fight lasted two hours and forty-five minutes,
including several tedious rounds, and much useless
breaking ground, advancing, and retreating. It was,
nevertheless, a truly hard fight, and the two powerful
boxers who made their _début_ on this occasion
inflicted severe mutual punishment. It was manifest,
early in the battle, that Orme was the more lasting of
the two, and much the heavier hitter. It seemed, also,
that Jones had commenced his career too early.

Each man proved himself thorough game, and possessed of undoubted stamina. Orme, in beating a man taller, longer in the reach, a shade heavier, and much the favourite in the betting, had done all expected of him, and his friends resolved on quietly biding their time, and――when that time did come――on playing for a good stake. Their confidence in their champion was shown by the character of the next antagonist selected for him being no other than Nat Langham, whose fame already stood high among the few who had an opportunity of judging of his merits.

Orme’s _coup d’essai_ having proved eminently satisfactory, and Master Nat having been waiting in vain for a suitable customer from the day when he defeated Sparkes the Australian, as related in the previous chapter, a match was proposed for £50 a side, to be decided on the 6th day of May, 1851. A trip down the river being agreed on, “The Queen of the Thames” was the vessel engaged, and the oft-described voyage having been effected at two o’clock, the ring was pitched by Ould Tom Oliver, Tom Callas, and assistants. At three Orme tossed in his cap, and Langham followed his example. The usual ridiculous haggling with regard to a referee ensued, during which we adjourned to another part of the marsh, where a merry little mill between an Israelite and a son of Ishmael, in the person of a gipsy lad, which had been arranged for decision on this occasion, came off. The Hebrew was worsted after a stubborn resistance. This settled, we returned to the legitimate roped quadrangle called “the ring” because it is _not_ round. Here, after positively refusing an arbitration which carries with its exercise nought but unpleasantness, a veteran Ring-goer (Old Tom Oliver), with the snows of sixty winters on his head, accepted the office. At fifteen minutes past four the men were escorted to the scratch. Orme was esquired by Jemmy Welsh and Jack Grant; Langham by D’Orsay Turner and Johnny Hannan. The men, at scale, were stated to be respectively 11st. 5lb. and 11st. 2lb.; but upon this point we have our doubts, Orme appearing upon every point far the heavier man. Orme had trained upon the Chatham hills, and was as tough-looking a dark grained bit of stuff as ever was selected by shipwright of that famed dockyard locality. Langham took his breathings on Newmarket Heath, and was as fine as any thoroughbred fresh from its gallops. The betting was now even, Langham for choice. After waiting a few minutes for a hailstorm, which, according to the precedent of this “merry month,” will have its way, at a quarter past four the men stood up for

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Orme stood firmly, with his elbows rather
high, his fists level and almost square, and his heavy,
thick, round arms in anything but an elegant position;
yet he loomed big, massive, and formidable, and his
deep chest, matted with coarse black hair, and
complexion of the deepest gipsy brown, gave an
impression of hardihood and enduring strength. Langham
was fine and fair in skin, clean built, with handsome
shoulders and biceps, good length of reach and active
pins. His attitude was artistic; the left well up and
forward, the right playing easily across the mark,
covering the short ribs, and ready for stop or
delivery. Orme seemed a little flurried and worked
forward, Langham shifting and retreating before him,
coolly and collectedly. Orme let go his left, which
Langham stopped, and caught Orme sharply on the
cheekbone; Langham followed Orme on the bustle, and
reached him slightly with the right, when Orme ducked
his head, turned clean round, and rose up outside the
ropes (laughter). Langham beckoned Orme, who came
inside, nodding his head and smiling. Langham, cautious
and steady, would not lead off. Orme tried to make his
left, but was stopped, and following it immediately
with his right was out of distance; Langham hit Orme
sharply with the left in a quick exchange, drawing
“first blood” from his mouth and nose. The men got at
it, and fighting was the order of the round, Orme
giving Langham a heavy body hit, but catching pepper
about the frontispiece. Both down, Langham first, but
with the best of the hitting.

2.――Nat retreating, measuring Orme with his left, till
the latter let fly; pretty counter-hits with the left,
Orme home on Langham’s cheek, Langham on Orme’s nasal
organ, from which more of the ruby distilled. Some
exchanges of no great moment, Langham slipping down
from his own hit.

3.――Orme stopped Langham’s left neatly (applause);
counters with left, Langham’s straightest, but did not
seem much to mark Orme’s cast-iron nob. Orme bored in,
pegging away; Langham propped him, but dropped when
forced to the ropes.

4.――Orme made several feints, Langham shifted and
laughed; Langham tried to draw his man, but the latter,
advised by Welsh, pointed to the scratch. Langham tried
his left, but Orme was with him, and, after some heavy
weaving work, Langham fell because it suited him.

5.――Sparring; Langham cautious but lively. Orme had
found that he got pepper whenever he attempted to lead
off, and he paused awhile. There was some little chaff
about each man having something in his hands, and they
were shown to be empty. The mill recommenced by Langham
rattling in one, two, catching Orme on the nose and
ribs; in the scramble Langham was down.

6.――Nat visited Orme’s left eye a stinger, raising a
“mouse.” Orme rushed in and delivered with tremendous
half-arm energy; Langham fought up and was bored down.

7.――Orme rolled in, letting go both hands; Nat nobbed
him, but Orme forced the fun, and ran Langham to earth.

8.――Orme had got terribly disfigured by Langham’s
retreating shots, but they did not seem to impair his
strength or resolution; he hit Langham heavily on the
ribs in the rally, but got one, straight as an arrow,
in the nose from Langham’s left; it was a smasher, and
was followed by a lunge from the right, as he was
already on the stagger, and down he went on his south
pole. (_First knock-down far Langham._ Great cheering.)

9.――Orme came up more steady than was expected; he
hemmed and coughed several times, as if troubled in the
throat, but played about, waiting for Langham to begin.
Langham led off, and made his left, but Orme dashed in
desperately, and both were down in the rally. (6 to 4
on Langham.)

10.――Langham propped Orme on the nose; Orme hit rather
out of distance, and Langham slipped down.

11.――Rapid exchanges. Langham made his straight left
sharply on Orme’s right eye, raising a “mouse” to match
the left. Orme got Langham in his arms, and, after a
brief struggle, held him by the crook, forced him over,
and threw him from his hip on his neck and head,
lending his whole weight to the impetus of his fall.
Langham, apparently stupefied, was picked up, all
abroad, by Jem Turner and Hannan. (Cries of “It’s all
over!”)

12.――Langham came up loose in the knees and puzzled,
but he had not lost his style. Orme could not get on to
him, and he fell on the saving suit.

13.――(“Time.”) Langham fought prettily on the
defensive, but was in evident distress; indeed, he
never entirely shook off effects of the throw in the
previous round throughout the fight. Orme hit him in
the body, but he was getting down when he received the
blow.

14, 15, 16.――Langham still merely defensive but the
last a good fighting round.

17 to 20.――Heavy work; both rather wild. Langham
generally finished the rounds by getting to grass.
(Offers of 3 to 2 on Orme.)

21.――Punishing exchanges. Nat getting steadier; Orme
gave way a little after a job or two from Langham’s
left. Langham followed him. After some hard fighting
Orme threw Langham.

22.――(A claim on account of Orme having some substance
in his hand; it was disproved.) Ding-dong work, and
Langham down in the hitting.

23.――Orme pursued Langham, determined not to allow him
to recover his wind; hard, but rather wild hitting,
during which Orme getting close, sent Langham down.

24.――Nat missed his left, Orme stepping back; Orme put
out his tongue. Exchanges, and Langham fell.

25.――Langham hit Orme several times as he came in, but
could not stop himself from being bored down.

26.――Langham tried his left twice, but was not near
enough to his man. Orme let go his left, and Langham
dropped. (An appeal from Orme on the plea that Langham
dropped without a blow.)

27.――Heavy counters; Orme on Langham’s jowl; Langham on
Orme’s eye, which was nearly shut up. A rattling round.
Nat got on Orme’s best eye (the right), then on his
note. Orme hammered away, but was short of distance,
except when in-fighting; a close, and Langham under.
(One hour.)

28, 29.――Exchanges; Langham precise, and timing his
hits, got Orme to a standstill. When Orme came on again
Langham fell. (Another claim.)

30, 31.――As before, Langham slipped down in the
hitting. (A claim each round for Orme.)

32.――Orme wild and rushing; Langham steadied himself,
and propped him severely. Langham fell at the ropes,
Orme over him.

33, 34.――Langham delivered and fell from his own blows.

35.――Hard hitting; Orme would not be denied; Langham
got down at the ropes, and Orme, bending his knee,
tried to drop on him. (An appeal from Langham’s party,
but overruled.)

36 to 40.――Nat nailed Orme dexterously, swelling his
lips till he resembled the portrait of the elder
Molyneaux. In the 40th round he got him to a standstill
for a few seconds. (“Where’s your 2 to 1 now?”) Langham
fought cunningly, and got through the ropes, down.

41.――Orme’s eye closed; he rushed at Langham, who
dropped, and Orme was again charged with trying to
“knee” him.

42.――Exchanges; Langham made his left prettily, but
Orme gave him such a sneezer that he dropped.

43.――Langham game and clever, but weak. (80 minutes had
elapsed.) In the struggle at the close Langham was
undermost; a nasty back fall.

44.――Some sharp work, the men falling from their own
hits, reaching the ground at the same time.

45 to 60.――It was wonderful to see how, round after
round, such fighting could be kept up, Langham still
holding the palm for generalship, straight hitting, and
precision, but wanting strength from repeated falls. In
the 60th round he fell weak. In the 64th, both men were
again down in the hitting. From the 65th to the 100th
round, time after time, did the men come up with
fluctuating chances, the changes every three or four
rounds being truly surprising. First Langham got so
shaky that every round seemed his last; then Orme got
such straight props from the shoulder, in return for
his attempts to “go in and finish,” that it seemed a
pity both could not win; several times he stood still,
puzzled, but scorned to go down, while Langham could
not get up steam enough to seize the advantage and
secure victory. Orme was twice appealed against, on the
ground that he lifted his foot when Langham was down.
We do not think he either knew or intended to do what
he did. Langham, too, was appealed against for going
down, but the veteran referee would not have the battle
snatched from such good men by a quibble. In the 100th
round, 2 hours and 34 minutes having expired, Orme, on
being carried to his corner, communicated to his
seconds that he would fight no more; when the practised
eye of Welsh perceiving that Langham’s head had dropped
on Turner’s shoulder, he revived his man by the
information that his opponent had “cut it.” Orme went
up, but was not allowed to have it for asking. Langham
showed, and pecked away like a game cock, though there
was no power in his blows.

102 to 108.――Short rounds, as they well might be.
Langham got a turn in his favour, for he hit Orme in
the last-mentioned round, and his head dropped when
picked up.

109.――Orme recovered quicker than could be expected,
and again perceived that his opponent’s plight was no
better than his own: he staggered in, punched away, and
Langham fell.

110 to 113.――Orme very much abroad, but still the
stronger. Langham fell in the 113th round on the ropes,
and Orme upon him.

114, 115.――Both game as pebbles; Orme quite foggy in
the optics; Langham staggering, and instinctively
putting out his left for a pushing hit. (“Take them
both away,” said a bystander. Orme shook his head, and
Langham tried to muster the ghost of a smile.) The
seconds went close to their men. “It’s all right,” said
poor Langham to Jem Turner. If he thought so no one
else did. After a slight pop with his left, Orme pushed
Langham down, and fell over him.

116.――Orme on his knees, and Langham down anyhow, in a
weak rally.

117th and last.――Langham sent out his left; Orme
stepped back; Langham again hit out. He evidently did
not perceive what was before him, and coming forward,
from his own blow, fell on both knees and his hands.
His seconds ran up to him, but it was all over. Orme
stood in his corner for a few seconds, when time was
called, to which the Leicester man was yet deaf, walked
slowly across the ring, and taking the hand of his
brave, fallen adversary, tried to muster an expression
of admiration at his bravery. The sponge had before
gone up from Langham’s corner, and thus, at the close
of _two hours and forty-six minutes_, was brought to a
decision one of the gamest battles the modern annals of
the Ring can boast.

The shades of evening were closing in as the voyagers got on board their respective steamers, many more, as is usual on such occasions, extending their patronage to the “men’s” peculiar boat on the upward voyage than came down by that conveyance; for the very obvious reason that as the voyage both ways was paid at starting, the disagreeable ceremony of paying would be insisted on, while having once got down by a Gravesender, tug, or other cheap conveyance, the homeward-bound voyage could be effected _gratis_. It was nearly midnight when the “Queen of the Thames,” working against tide and a head wind, reached London Bridge; the voyage being shortened by many an anecdote of brave battles in bygone days, with which all agreed the present mill might well bear a comparison.

Orme now rested for a year upon his well-earned laurels, when once again Aaron Jones, who during the interval of two years had, so rumour averred, wonderfully developed and immensely improved in the art, sought to reverse the verdict given against him in December, 1849. Aaron had, moreover, in the interim fought Bob Wade (the Dover Champion), a 12st. man, whom he defeated at Edenbridge, Kent, in one hour, in which forty-three punishing rounds were contested.

Monday, May 10th, 1852, was the fixture, instead of the customary Tuesday; the moving reason thereto being that the Turfites, among whom were Jones’s prominent patrons, might attend another “ring” at Newmarket on the latter day. On Jones’s improvement the Sporting Oracle thus delivered itself: “When Jones first contended with Orme he was a youth of eighteen, weighing 11st. 2lbs., and too young to bear the wear and tear of a long encounter. He has now increased in height and weight, stands 6 feet in height, and will draw a trifle over 12st., besides having materially improved in the pugilistic art.” At the last deposit of £10 a side, making up the stakes to £200, which took place on Tuesday last at Mr. Prior’s, “Nag’s Head,” South Audley Street, Jones had the call in the betting, his friends being West-enders and ready to back their own “stable.” As the rendezvous was in the vicinity of Newmarket, and a trip per Eastern Counties rail the mode of reaching the field of arms, we were glad, on presenting ourselves at the Shoreditch terminus at eight o’clock, to see at “the meet,” not only a large number of the Corinthian patrons of the Ring, whose faces we have for some time missed from such gatherings, but many of the ex-professors of the art――Owen Swift, Adams, Jem Burn, Shaw, Dan Pinxton, Jemmy Gardner, Alec Keene, Harry Milbourn, &c., &c. At a little before eight Jones arrived at the station, accompanied by the lively Bob Fuller and Alec Keene; the former being his trainer and the twain his selected seconds for the fistic duello. Jones looked remarkably bright and well, indeed, as Bob expressed it, he was “as fit as a fiddle,” and “would take a great deal of beating.” Orme did not put in an appearance at Shoreditch, but it was quickly made known that he had departed overnight for the neighbourhood of Newmarket, where he was awaiting the arrival of the “London particulars.” At a few minutes past eight the whistle sounded, and off we went, understanding that Chesterford, where we were told Orme awaited us, was our calling-place, and thence we should be conveyed to Mildenhall. This was a judicious ruse, but, as we shall presently see, failed in the trial. On arriving at Chesterford, however, our steam-steed merely took a drink of water, and sped on its way to Six Mile Bottom, on the Newmarket line. We must confess that we were a little staggered, knowing what we did of the Cambridge authorities, that the “managers” should have chosen their ground within that shire, and we argued that as one of the men had been training near the racing metropolis the watchful blues had doubtless an eye upon his movements.

On mentioning our misgivings, however, to some of the parties concerned, and expressing our surprise that so hazardous an attempt should be made, we were assured that it was all right, that there were no magistrates within call, and that the fight was certain to be settled without interruption. While waiting for the arrival of Orme, our fears for the result were verified to the fullest extent by the appearance of a body of Cambridge police, both horse and foot, evidently determined to spoil sport. It was now determined to go on to Newmarket at once to fetch Orme, who had prudently retreated into the town on finding that the enemy was in the field. At Newmarket it was stated that he had chartered a fly, and was about to proceed across country to Mildenhall. A despatch was instantly sent to recall him, and, after a delay of about half an hour, he made his appearance, looking big, brown, hardy, and confident. He immediately took his place in the train, and an inhabitant of the district having intimated that he knew a spot where there was no chance of interruption, consented to act as pilot, the train was once more put in motion, and taking its course up the old Newmarket line, which was at that time closed for general traffic, was brought to a standstill by the side of a field at Bourne Bridge, a place rendered memorable as the scene of the first contest between Mr. Gully and Gregson, in days long vanished, passed away. Here a debarkation was effected, and when all the _voyageurs_ by train were collected there were certainly not more than two hundred persons present. These, by the time the ropes and stakes were pitched, were increased by the arrival of some dozen equestrians from Cambridge and Newmarket, anxious, no doubt, to enjoy a treat so seldom witnessed by the inhabitants of those celebrated universities for the education of man and horse; but, as will be shortly seen, their arrival on horseback defeated the object they had in view, as it served to put the blues upon the scent, and enabled them, before much business had been got through, again to put in their unwelcome appearance, and once more to send the “peace breakers” to the right about.

On the recommendation of “the pilot” the business of constructing the arena was set about with unusual celerity by young Fred Oliver and the veteran Tom Callas, under the superintendence of the ancient Commissary himself, and by a few minutes past one o’clock all was in readiness. A capital outer ring was formed, round which the “cheapsiders” took their stations, while comfortable straw hassocks were provided for the tenants of the inner circle who chose to pay the price demanded by those who had been so thoughtful as to provide such luxuries. Jem Burn, whose hind feet and legs were not sufficiently under his command to enable him to take up a position so close to mother-earth, was accommodated with a chair, around which were grouped several of his ancient patrons, and all appeared now to be satisfied that at length fortune was favourable, and that the mill would be brought to a conclusion without let or hindrance. Umpires and a referee were quickly chosen, and the men at once proceeded to their toilettes, Jones, as we have already stated, being waited on by Bob Fuller and Alec Keene, while Orme had for valets Jemmy Welsh and a “Jolly Butcher” from Southwark. On stripping, Jones confirmed the opinion we had formed in the morning, that he was as “fine as a star,” and as fit as Fuller could make him. Orme, on denuding himself of his outer rind, looked big enough and strong enough for anything. His skin, of a nut-brown tint, gave him altogether an appearance of hardihood which lead a spectator to infer that he was an adversary by no means to be sneezed at, even by those who considered themselves his superiors in the fistic art. It was clear, nevertheless, that he had not devoted quite as much time to his preparation as the nature of the encounter he had undertaken would have justified. There were indications of loose flesh about his ribs and chest which might have been well dispensed with. On inquiring his weight we were informed that he was about 11st. 8lb., being just 4lb. more than when he encountered Langham. Notwithstanding this exuberance of meat he looked remarkably well, was extremely confident, and “eager for th’ affray.” All being at length in readiness, the colours (blue for Orme, and yellow with blue border for Jones) were nailed to the mast――we mean, tied to the stake. Orme laid his adversary a bet of £25 to £20, which was duly posted. The men and their seconds shook hands――silence was proclaimed――“Time” was called (half-past one)――the seconds retired to their corners, and left the men at the scratch to commence

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――On throwing themselves into attitude, which,
as the dandies say, “is everything,” there was no very
great display of artistic skill on either side. If
anything, Jones’s position was the more graceful of the
two; still he left his ribs totally unprotected, and
held his hands much too far from his body to please our
mind. Orme, on the contrary, held his arms, which
loomed large and ponderous, closer to his corpus. He
stood almost square, his thick, muscular legs seeming
well calculated to support his enormous round
shoulders, which resembled those of a miniature Atlas.
Jones, after a dodge or two, feinted with his left, but
Orme grinned and stepped back; Jones followed him up,
when Orme stopped his further progress with a prop from
his right on the side of the head. Counter-hits with
the left followed without any mischief. Orme then swung
round his right as if it was a sledgehammer, and caught
Jones with tremendous force on the ribs under the left
arm, in the region of the heart, where he left most
unmistakable imprints of his knuckles, which never
disappeared during the remainder of the battle. Jones
returned slightly on the right ear, which led to a
rally, in which Orme had the best of the hitting, again
delivering a rib-bender with his right, removing the
bark from Jones’s smeller, and drawing _first blood_
with his left. A close, in which Orme held his man
tight, and fibbed him on the nose and forehead until
both were down in Jones’s corner.

2.――Jones led off with his left, reaching Orme’s cheek,
and cleverly stopping the return. Counter-hits
followed, Jones drawing claret from Orme’s mouth,
catching it in return heavily on the cheek and chin.
Some slogging hits were exchanged without any regard to
science, and Jones at length slipped down.

3.――Jones again led off with his left, but was very
wild in his deliveries, which passed over Orme’s
shoulder. Had he been more precise his blows would have
told a tale, for Orme appeared to think that “stopping”
was quite beneath him. Orme went in, pegged away left
and right on the left eye and ribs, and Jones fell.

4.――Jones on coming up displayed the marks of Orme’s
handiwork in the last round in the shape of a mouse on
his left eye. He appeared loth to come out of his
corner, whereupon Orme went to him. Jones retreated as
far as he could, and delivered his left as Orme came
in. Orme “stopped the blow” with his left cheek,
returned the compliment with interest by two heavy
cracks on Jones’s injured peeper and his forehead, when
Jones got down.

5.――Orme commenced business by rushing in and planting
his left and right heavily on Jones’s mouth and nose,
drawing more claret. Jones returned slightly on the
left cheek and slipped down just as Orme was about to
effect a delivery. He looked up as if anticipating a
_foul_, but Orme restrained himself, grinned, shook his
head, patted Jones on the back of his poll, and walked
to his corner.

6.――Jones led off with his left, catching Orme on the
potato-trap. Orme countered him on the nose heavily,
stepped back again, went in, repeated the dose on
Jones’s nose and his left eye, and the latter was again
down.

7.――Jones came up much flushed, bleeding from the nose
and left eye. His forehead was swelled, and altogether
it was evident that Orme’s visitations had not been
without their effect. The only mark Orme showed was a
swelling under his left eye. Orme led off, caught Jones
another rattler on the damaged ogle, drawing more of
the ruby. Jones wild, dashed in, planted a heavy blow
on Orme’s left cheek, and fell on his latter end from
the force of his own blow.

8.――Jones stopped Orme’s left neatly, and tried a
return which was short. A rally followed, in which
Jones’s deliveries were mostly thrown away, inasmuch as
they passed over Orme’s shoulder. Orme, whose punches,
although very round, in general got home, again planted
on Jones’s left eye and nose. At length Jones got one
on Orme’s left peeper, drawing blood, and then slipped
down.

9.――Jones came up bleeding, and looking much the worse
for wear, while Orme was all confidence. Jones led off
with his left, got home slightly on Orme’s smeller,
when suddenly was heard the unwelcome watchword of
“Police”――and sure enough, on looking round we
perceived a detachment of neatly attired Cambridge
“Peelers” making their way to the field of action. A
cry of sauve qui peut was instantly raised, and the
ground was cleared in a trice, every one making for the
train and jumping into the first carriage that he could
find open. It was soon discovered, however, that the
object of the “powers that be” was not to apprehend any
of the wrongdoers, but merely to prevent a breach of
the peace in the county of Cambridge.

A council of war was called; the referee, whose duty it was to name the next time and place, if possible on the same day, suggested that there was yet time to go to Mildenhall, where he knew the matter could be concluded in peace. The officials, however, connected with the railway, said that, inasmuch as the train would have to return up the old Newmarket line, and then go round by Cambridge, where it would be detained so as not to interfere with the general traffic, it was very probable that Mildenhall could not be reached in time to finish the business in hand before dark. It was then hinted by “the pilot” that the affair might be completed in the neighbourhood of Newmarket, that town being in the county of Suffolk, and out of the jurisdiction of the Cambridgeshire authorities. The plan appeared feasible, and “bock agin” to Newmarket was the order of the day. The pilot conducted the Commissary and assistants to a likely piece of turf behind the plantation of firs at the top of the training-ground, not much more than a mile from the town, and here a second ring was formed with all due diligence, and here, of course, the crowd of spectators was largely increased by detachments of lovers of the sport from the town itself and the surrounding districts. At twenty-two minutes after three, all being for the second time in readiness, in the midst of a shower of rain, round nine was resumed.

THE FIGHT RESUMED.

Round 9 continued.――On the men throwing off their
blankets both looked rather the worse for wear, Jones
having a most unmistakable black eye, and the bark
being off his frontispiece in several places. The marks
also of Orme’s hammerings on his ribs were very
apparent. Orme displayed a slight swelling and
discolouration under his left eye, and an enlargement
of his upper lip. Both seemed fresher from the rest
they had taken, and appeared anxious now to finish the
fight out of hand. Jones led off twice, but was short.
Orme then delivered a spank on his left eye. Jones
returned rather heavily on the nose and slipped down.

10.――Orme led off, planted his right again heavily on
the ribs. Jones, after one or two wild plunges over his
adversary’s shoulder, succeeded in reaching his damaged
cheek, and slipped down.

11.――Jones again led off twice with his left, but in
both instances the blows fell short; Orme then went to
his man, slight taps were exchanged, after which Orme
popped in a nasty one on the nose, and slipped down.

12.――Orme rushed in to fight, but Jones stepped back,
caught him heavily on the left ear and left eye,
drawing claret from the latter; Orme tried to return,
but Jones got down cunning.

13.――Orme on coming to the scratch showed that Jones’s
last two hits had not been without their effect; his
left ogle began to show symptoms of shutting up shop,
while his left ear was considerably discoloured. Jones
led off, delivered his left and right on Orme’s injured
optic and his ear, stopped Orme’s returns cleverly, and
slipped down.

14.――Orme rushed in in a determined manner, but was
again stopped. Jones stepped back, delivered his right
on Orme’s left ear heavily; Orme would not be stalled
off, but again bored in, when Jones slipped down.

15.――Jones led off, but the blow passed harmless over
Orme’s head; good counter-hits followed, Orme
delivering on Jones’s nose, and receiving a heavy
visitation on his right peeper. Jones then received a
one-two on the nose and ribs, when both got down
together, and, after a slight scramble, were down side
by side.

16.――Jones was again short in his deliveries, when Orme
closed, and both were again down, no mischief being
done.

17.――Both rattled in to their work, and some sharp
exchanges took place, in which Jack was as good as his
master. Orme then caught Jones round the neck, fibbed
him heavily in the mouth and nose, and after a short
struggle threw him heavily, and fell upon him.

18.――Jones, led off, his arm passing over his
adversary’s head. He was more lucky in a second
attempt, reaching Orme’s left ogle heavily. Some
rattling exchanges followed, left and right, Jones
catching it on the ribs and left eye, while he got home
heavily on Orme’s ear, mouth, and left cheek. Orme
bored in, planted his one-two on Jones’s nose and
mouth, and was trying to improve his advantage when
Jones slipped down cunning.

19.――Jones first to fight, Orme appearing to blow from
want of condition. Jones got home again on the left ear
and nose; Orme returned slightly, but his hits now
appeared to lack steam. Jones in this round rattled
away in style, had all the best of the hitting, but in
the end Orme counterbalanced these advantages by
closing and throwing him a cross buttock, and falling
heavily on him.

20.――Jones led off, but was met by Orme with a sharp
counter-hit, each reached his adversary’s left eye,
after which Jones immediately got down. He had
evidently been much shaken by the fall in the previous
round.

21.――Orme attempted to take the lead, but was short;
Jones delivered a heavy right-hander on the left ear;
counter-hits followed, Orme reaching Jones’s left eye
heavily, and received on the nose. Jones finished the
round by delivering a spank on Orme’s right eye and
getting down.

22.――Jones came up, bleeding from his left eye. Orme
opened the ball by repeating the dose on the same
optic, and drawing a fresh supply of the ruby. He
attempted to do ditto ditto, but was cleverly stopped
by Jones. Counter-hits followed, Orme succeeding in
again planting upon the nearly closed eye of his
adversary, who delivered on the left cheek and left ear
and then got down.

23.――Jones attempted to take the lead, but was wofully
short. Orme went to him, delivered his left and right
heavily, received a slight tap in return, and Jones
fell.

It was now forty minutes past three, and before time could be called for the next round, “police!” was again the cry of the multitude――a cry which, as at the first ring, proved to be only too true. Several individuals, clad in blue array, connected with the Suffolk constabulary, forced their way to the arena, and ordered the combatants to desist in the Queen’s name. A fly was close to the spot, and in this both men and their seconds quickly ensconced themselves. The stakes were once more drawn, and all repaired to the railway station, to once more ponder upon the reverses of a day which had dawned with every prospect of a successful expedition. The backers of the men applied to the referee to know his decision, and that functionary, after considering the circumstances of the case, decided that there must be another meeting, and, having taken council with the pilot, the excursionists once more re-entered the train, the pilot and a backer of Orme taking their station on the tender, the former undertaking to direct the engine driver to a spot where it was thought a satisfactory last act might be appended to the two which had already been performed. The train once more flew past Six Mile Bottom, where the blue-coated fraternity were still observable on the _qui vive_, to prevent a second invasion of their bailiwick. The old Newmarket line was a second time traversed for some miles, and at length the pilot gave orders to “heave to” at a field of clover, about two miles on the Newmarket side of Chesterford. And now comes the unpleasant part of our narrative. On the referee leaving the train, he was asked by some of Jones’s backers why the train had stopped, as they understood he had decided that the fight was to be postponed until another day. The referee stated that he had given no decision of the kind; the articles specified that in case of magisterial interference the referee was to name the next time and place, if possible on the same day. He had named a place (having directed the engine driver under the orders of “the pilot” to go where there was a probability of a satisfactory conclusion); that place had been reached, there was plenty of daylight, he saw no excuse for postponing the battle to a future day, and he had no alternative but to order the men to fight. Jones’s friends replied that Orme’s principal backer had told them when the police arrived at the second ring that there would be no more fight that day, but that he should take his man back to London at once. They had therefore given Jones oranges to eat, and brandy-and-water to drink, and had, moreover, been smoking in the same carriage with him. The referee stated that this, if it was the case, was highly reprehensible on their part; Orme’s backers had no power to decide whether the fight was to be resumed or not; that was discretionary on his (the referee’s) part. He had stated to one or two of Jones’s friends what his intentions were, and if there had been any doubt upon the point, the least that could have been done by his seconds and attendants would have been to ask the question before they allowed their man to commit the excesses they alluded to. It was then urged by Jones’s backers that it would be a cruel thing to order the men to fight again after being twice stripped and twice disturbed. The referee said that might or might not be the case; his duty, according to the articles, was imperative. The men must fight, unless they chose mutually to agree to a postponement, when of course he could have no objection. Orme and his friends would not hear of an adjournment, and wished to have the matter decided at once. Jones’s backers then became very excited, and one of them applied language to the referee which was utterly unjustifiable, and that gentleman said he would have nothing more to do with the matter, and that he would resign his office as referee. After a lengthened argument _pro_ and _con_, however, the referee, seeing that if he resigned his office the friends of Jones would attain the object they evidently had in view――namely, to save any bets they might have upon the fight, by refusing to agree to any other referee, and thus procuring an adjournment――consented to leave the railway carriage into which he had retired. He was again begged by Jones’s friends to adjourn the fight, but again repeated his decision that they must make another attempt on that day to bring the affair to an issue. Jones and Co. appeared still reluctant to renew the encounter, whereupon the referee stated that he would give them half an hour, and if Jones was not in the ring ready to fight by that time he would award the stakes to Orme. Orme went to the ring, which had already been formed, whither he was followed, after a short delay, by Jones and his seconds. Jones, whose left eye was completely closed, and who showed other symptoms of severe chastisement, pulled off his trousers and coat, and was about to denude himself of his other clothing, when suddenly he appeared to change his mind; he whispered to one of his seconds that it was “No use his fighting any more, as he was sure to be licked.” He then resumed his extra toggery and went to the referee, to whom he stated that he would not fight again unless another referee was chosen, as he had resigned his office. The referee replied that his resignation was only threatened, and was not consummated, inasmuch as it had not been accepted by the parties concerned, who had asked him (after he had said that he would resign) to adjourn the fight to another day, and had thus acknowledged his authority. He was not disposed now to give up that authority, and thus deprive Orme of any chance he might have of finishing the battle that night. He did not consider that either man was licked, or that there was any great advantage on either side in point of punishment; there were still two hours of daylight. As he had said before, he could see no ground for a postponement, and fight they must, or he would certainly award the battle in favour of Orme. Jones still persisted in his refusal to fight, and at length left the ring, repeating the observation, that if he fought again he knew he should be licked. He did not leave the arena, however, without hearing sundry complimentary speeches from the spectators upon the courage (?) he displayed in refusing to finish the battle in a manly, upright manner, and without resorting to any petty subterfuges to obtain an adjournment. Amongst others who commented in strong terms upon his behaviour was Jemmy Massey, who was backing him, and who has shown himself a pretty good judge of the quantity of punishment a man can take without being licked; Jemmy strongly advised Jones to at once leave the ring, acknowledge that he was afraid of Orme, and thus end the matter. The referee waited the promised half-hour, at the end of which time, finding that Jones still declined the contest, he awarded the victory to Orme, to whom he at once handed the sum of £45, being the bet of £25 to £20 which had been laid prior to the commencement of the fight. The battle lasted 15 minutes at Bourne Bridge, and 18 minutes at Newmarket――total 33 minutes.

REMARKS.――Few remarks are called for upon the style
displayed by either of the combatants in this most
unsatisfactory affair. Orme displayed all that fearless
determination to do or die which has characterised his
former encounters, but we could not perceive any
improvement in his scientific acquirements since his
battle with Nat Langham last year. His principal notion
of stopping seemed to be with his head, which
consequently received many sharp visitations from
Jones’s wild deliveries, which a very little care would
have enabled him entirely to escape. The art of getting
away seemed to be one to the study of which he has paid
very little attention. His game evidently is “nothing
venture, nothing gain,” and he acted up to this to the
fullest extent. Notwithstanding his want of skilful
direction of his undoubted powers, Orme is a dangerous
customer to any one at all near his weight. He is a
very hard hitter, an extremely powerful and determined
man, of indomitable courage, and, although his powers
as a receiver were not severely tested on the present
occasion, still, it is known that in his fight with
Langham he showed that his qualities as a glutton are
of the highest order. He is, moreover, possessed of an
excellent temper, which enables him to control himself
under circumstances which are calculated sometimes to
“ruffle the feathers” of the coolest combatant. As to
Jones, in whom we were taught to expect a most
wonderful alteration for the better, we can only say
that our expectations were grievously disappointed. He
certainly did stop Orme’s swinging right-handers
occasionally, but his returns, which from the opening
afforded to him might have enabled him to punish his
daring adversary’s temerity in a most signal manner,
were mostly thrown to the winds. The tremendous blow he
received on the ribs in the very first round appeared
to take a good deal of the fight out of him, and it was
with extreme caution that he trusted himself within
reach of Orme’s pile-driving visitations. In the first
ring, indeed, after the first round, he did little but
receive what Orme could give, and on arriving at the
second arena, previous to recommencing operations, it
appeared to us that there was some little difficulty on
the part of his seconds in persuading him that there
was a chance left for him to snatch the laurel of
victory from his more hardy opponent. When he did
begin, however, he proved that he could fight very well
if he chose, and that what he might lack in strength
could be fully counterbalanced by steadiness; for
whenever he collected himself and made up his mind to
be with his man, the hits were pretty equally balanced,
both as regarded their severity and their number. The
fall which he received in the second act, to which was
superadded the weight of Orme’s carcase, however,
seemed again to take a good deal of fight out of him,
and it was pretty evident to all, that although Orme
was not likely to gain a victory without receiving a
very considerable amount of punishment, still, barring
an accident, victory must ultimately be his. The
conduct of Jones at the third ring proved either that
his heart was composed of a softer material than is
necessary to render a man a successful bruiser, or that
he acted under advice which, however well intended, was
certainly as ill-timed as it was injudicious. We know
that his seconds did all they could to endeavour to
persuade him to fight, but finding that he was
obviously disinclined, they, like clever counsellors,
did their best for their client in trying to convert a
bad cause into a good one, and obtain an adjournment to
a future day; but, as has already been seen, the fiat
had gone forth. Their man had but to choose one of two
alternatives――viz., to fight or lose the battle, and
he, doubtless feeling assured in his own mind that the
latter course would be the safer, declined to have any
more, withdrew from the ring, leaving behind him a
reputation little creditable to him as a man of
courage, and little calculated to raise him in the
opinion of those Corinthians who were prepared to
witness a manly struggle for pre-eminence, without any
of those paltry shifts and subterfuge which appear now
to be almost necessary concomitants of every encounter.

As was to be expected, the stakeholder received a legal notice from the backers of Jones, not to part with their portion of the money deposited. Nevertheless, on the Monday following, that gentleman handed over the £200 to Orme, pursuant to the decision of the referee. The stakeholder, in giving the money to Orme, animadverted severely on the conduct of the backers of Jones, which he characterised as unsportsmanlike and ill-judged. Such conduct was calculated to lower the already fallen fortunes of the P.R., and unless measures were taken to make an example of persons who could so far forget themselves, he feared that gentlemen would in future be deterred from putting down money to back men, from the fear that the backers of the opposing party would, if they found their man was getting the worst of it, take every unfair means in their power to prevent a manly and upright termination to the contest. On the present occasion two of Jones’s friends and supporters (whom he named) had, but whether with Jones’s consent he was unable to say, served him (the stakeholder) with a legal notice not to part with the money they had placed in his hands. Not feeling disposed to permit Orme to be thus deprived of a sum to which he had fairly entitled himself, he communicated the fact to the gentleman who staked the greater part of his money, and that gentle- and Orme executed a bond of indemnity to hold him (the stakeholder) harmless, in case Messrs. Ledger and Prior should take any further steps. The law expenses attending this bond of indemnity amounted to nearly £6. This sum would have to be paid by Orme, and it would make a considerable reduction in the amount of his winnings, which were already sufficiently circumscribed by the expenses incurred for training, paying his seconds, &c., &c. He felt assured that all persons who were disposed to look at the result of the contest in a proper light would agree with the referee in the decision he had given, and in this opinion he was upheld by remarks which had come to his ears, which had been made on the ground, by persons who had lost their money by backing Jones, many of whom said that the referee could not do otherwise than he had done. It was not necessary to trouble the company with any further remarks; they would form their own estimate of the proceedings of Jones and Co.; and in conclusion he was sure they would cordially agree with him in wishing that when Orme was again matched he would be more lucky in the choice of an opponent. It was certain that whenever he did fight again he would do his best to win, and it would be from no lack of determination on his part if he lost. The stakeholder then handed to Orme the £200, minus £5 17s. 4d., the amount of the lawyer’s bill for preparing the bond of indemnity.

Orme expressed his thanks to the stakeholder for his determination in giving up the money. He said it was usual, when the winning man received the reward of his victory, to present the loser with something as a compensation for his disappointment. It had been his intention to act up to the custom on the present occasion, and give Jones a £5 note, if his (Jones’s) backers had not acted in such an unsportsmanlike manner. They had, however, put him to an expense of nearly £6, and this so reduced his winnings that he really could not afford to give anything. He was sorry for this, on Jones’s account, as he did not believe that he had any hand in the legal proceedings. Although he could not himself afford to do anything for Jones, however, he would make a collection among his friends.

Orme’s determination to give nothing to Jones was applauded by the parties present, who expressed their opinion that this was the true method of punishing him for any countenance he might have given to the dealing with the lawyers which had been commenced by his friends. Orme then went round the room, and made a collection for Jones. This he handed over to Jones, who immediately rose and thanked the company. He assured them that he had nothing to do with the notice served upon the stakeholder, and all he could say was, he hoped when he fought again he should get a better character from the Press than he had received on the present occasion. He was no coward, and he trusted that the day would come when he might be able to prove himself as game a man as Orme. As to the amount subscribed for him, he thought he could not do better than hand it over to the stakeholder, to be appropriated towards Spring’s monument. Jones’s speech was much applauded, and he sat down amidst considerable cheering, and the remainder of the evening passed off harmoniously.

Orme’s second victory over Aaron Jones, who, as must not be forgotten, was at this period (1852-3) looked upon by the Broomes and many good judges as the “coming man” for the championship _in futuro_, marked him out as a boxer who in time to come must “give away weight,” and who was not to be tackled by any middle-weight; for the phenomenon of a ten-and-a-half stone Champion had not yet presented itself to men’s eyes, or to their minds as a possibility or even a probability. At this juncture the Champion’s title had passed into the hands of Harry Broome, in consequence of his very debatable conquest of the “Old Tipton” (through a foul blow), on the 27th of September, 1851, at Mildenhall, Suffolk. From that time Harry Broome had worn the title undisputed (Aaron Jones being of the Broome party), but now the East End friends of Orme thought they perceived their Champion within a “measurable distance” of the Championship. Accordingly Harry Orme, with laudable ambition, picked up the gauntlet thrown down by the Champion, the “other Harry,” and agreeing to the amount of stake, £500, articles were drawn, and the 23rd of March, 1853, fixed for its decision; owing, however, to that being the day of the Newmarket Handicap, a supplemental agreement was signed, postponing the battle to Monday, 18th of April. We need not here recapitulate the circumstances of the battle, seeing that they are minutely detailed in the Memoir of HARRY BROOME, Chapter IX. of this volume.

With this “glorious defeat,” more honourable to the loser than many victories, we close the Ring career of the brave, honest, and straightforward Harry Orme. We shall conclude our Ring memoirs of this courageous champion by a few words of quotation from a contemporary account of this final fight: “Orme is a remarkably quiet, civil fellow, and is much respected by his friends at the East End, and, indeed, by all who intimately know him. He is a man who never talks about fighting, except in the briefest terms, and then only when he means business. We do not ever recollect hearing from his lips, either at home or in public, any of that slang or loose talk which many of his brother professionals consider witty, or smart, and laughter-provoking. In fact, Harry Orme is singularly modest, and not only avoids boasting, but is always ready to concede credit to his opponent, and leave to others the praising of himself.”

Harry Orme was for many years known as the landlord of the “Jane Shore,” in Shoreditch. He died on the 9th of June, 1864, in his 41st year, and rests beneath a neat memorial in Abney Cemetery.

[26] “Rari quippe boni: numero vix sunt totidem, quot
Thebarum portæ, vel divitis ostia Nili.”――JUVENAL, SAT.