“In answer to Mr. Hudson’s letter, inserted in your valuable paper of Sunday last, I have only to observe that my patron and backer, Mr. Hayne, will not allow me to fight under £500 a-side.

“I cannot conceive how Mr. Hudson should be at a loss to make good his stakes. Surely, after the chaffing of Mr. Randall at the Fives Court, where he volunteered to come forward to the tune of £300, and the calls Mr. Hudson intends making in the northern, southern, eastern, and western parts of the kingdom, there will be little difficulty (with the fifty my backer presents to him) in his making up his money.

“Mr. Hudson expressed a wish that I should name a day and place to make a deposit for the mill; I therefore name Mr. Cribb’s, in Panton Street, on Tuesday, the 17th of this month, when I shall be armed with the ready to any amount that may accommodate Mr. Hudson.

“I beg to take this opportunity of assuring the sporting world that, should I enter the lists again with Mr. Hudson (and which I heartily desire may be the case), that it will be my last turn-up in the prize ring.

“I have to apologize for taking up so much of your valuable paper, but feeling it essentially necessary that something like a decisive and perfectly understood answer should be given to Mr. Hudson and the fancy, I have trespassed thus far.

The sporting world at the east end of the town were so confident as to the success of the “John Bull Fighter,” in his second contest with Cannon, that, in addition to the liberal gift of £50 by Mr. Hayne, they made up the remaining £450 without delay, and the battle was fixed for Tuesday, November 23, 1824. It was proposed by Mr. Hayne that the men should fight on a stage, a proposal induced by the fact that in the former fight some friends of Josh. had cut the ropes when they found the fates were adverse to their pet, and had attempted to create a disturbance and wrangle. The proposition was at once acceded to by the real backers of Hudson, who had not been parties to the misconduct of his admirers; and it was stipulated in the articles that the battle should come off on a stage, similar to that on which Spring and Langan fought at Chichester. Matters having been thus amicably arranged, Josh. went into close training, determined to do all that could be done to get himself into fitting condition to justify the confidence that had been placed in him. Cannon, who, from following the calling of a bargee at Windsor, had been elevated to the dignity of gamekeeper to Mr. Hayne, also took immense pains with himself. Josh. had to reduce himself to the extent of about twenty pounds, and this task he manfully accomplished, and his weight on the day of battle was exactly thirteen stone ten pounds. His condition was such that his friends backed him in some cases at five to four, and commonly at guineas to pounds. Cannon, like his antagonist, was also in prime twig: he had not a superfluous ounce of flesh, and his weight was thirteen stone one pound.

The nomination of the place of fighting was left to Mr. Jackson, who received applications from sundry places to bring the mill to certain districts. Among other towns, Andover, Peterborough, and Warwick were liberal in their offers of reward to the men. At length the advantages appeared in favour of Warwick, and thither accordingly Mr. Jackson ordered that the men should proceed. The race-course was, as in the case of Spring and Langan at Worcester, preferred as the scene of action, and an agent was sent down from London, who, in conjunction with the clerk of the course and a committee of gentlemen, made the requisite arrangements.

As it was expected that Barney Aaron and Dick Curtis were to fight on the same stage as the big ones—although in the end this battle did not take place—of course the spectacle was doubly attractive, and the attendance proportionably great. For admission to the grand stand the charge was 10s., while to the different wagons round the outer ring the figure varied from 2s. 6d. to 5s. The proceeds of the standings in wagons were divided equally between the boxers and the ring constables. The regulations for preserving order were first-rate, as, in addition to the knights of the mawley themselves, there were twenty-five regular constables with their staves of office to assist. The men arrived on the ground about half-past twelve o’clock, and shortly afterwards mounted the stage; Josh. attended by Peter Crawley and Phil. Sampson, and Cannon waited upon by Tom Spring and Tom Cribb. Mr. Woodward was chosen umpire for Josh., and Captain Radford for Cannon, and these two gentlemen nominated “the squire,” Osbaldeston, of racing and hunting renown, to be referee. These were the days when the patronage of sporting men raised the character of the assemblages at the ring-side. Mr. Jackson, to fill up the interval of expectancy, called upon Jem Ward to show his arm to the amateurs. That boxer did so, and an eminent surgeon of the vicinity pronounced its symmetry to excel any arm he had ever seen. Tom Oliver also stripped, and Mr. Jackson placed him in various attitudes to exhibit the action and beauty of the muscles of the trunk and arms. The arms of “White-headed Bob” (Ned Baldwin) and of Phil. Sampson were shown, and declared to be studies for the sculptor and modeller of the highest interest. On stripping, Cannon was obviously in the better condition. His flesh was hard as ivory, and as clear and bright. Josh. looked perfectly well, but it was evident he might have spared a few more pounds with advantage. He was, nevertheless, as we have said, the favourite at five to four. We have preferred the report of Bell’s Life to the rhapsodical farrago of “Boxiana,” as more practical, actual, and life-like.

Round 1.—The men threw themselves into position; Josh. with a sort of rolling guard, Cannon with his fists straight before him. Each eyed the other with a determined regard, and the brows of both portended mischief.

Cannon was clearly resolved to lose no time; he advanced towards Josh. Josh. retreated, to draw his man; but Cannon was not to be out-generalled: he was steady, and followed his enemy. He at last hit out with his right, and caught Josh. on the sneezer. Josh. countered, but did not make much impression. Cannon then fought with his left, and a bustling rally followed, in which there were some straight and forcible returns. Josh. found it was no joke, and having been followed to the rails, he turned round quickly and met his man in another direction. Cannon followed him, and caught him again on the snout, drawing first blood. Josh., nothing abashed, met his antagonist manfully, and some desperate, but not scientific hitting followed. At last Josh. went in for the close, and after a slight struggle both fell, Cannon under. It was again proved that Cannon was no petit maître, and Josh.’s sconce exhibited woeful marks of his meaning. Cannon, too, had a mark under his left eye.

2.—The men came up with courage, but Cannon appeared most collected. Little time was lost in sparring. Josh. broke ground with his right, tipped Cannon on the left eye and got away. Cannon followed him, and returned the compliment, when a heavy tussle again took place, smack for smack, and no attempt at stopping. It was regular tuck-mill hammering, and all head-fighting. Cannon was still busy with his man, and, in closing, a sharp tussle followed, in which both were down, Josh. under.

3.—Josh., on coming to the scratch, was observed to pipe, although not much distressed. He did not wait to gain breath, however, but rattled in manfully to

and placed a tremendous hit on the Great Gun’s eye, which drew his cork and produced a general cheer from the Joshuaites. Cannon took it kindly, and rushed forward with alacrity; he hit Josh. on the potato trap, which drew forth another purple stream. This led to an unsparing rally, in which both men gave and took with astonishing fortitude. Josh., in this tussle, again received heavily on the muzzle, and was about to return, when Cannon, from the slippery state of the boards, fell on his knees.

4.—Both came up in true John Bull style, Cannon preserving his original straight-forward guard, and Josh. working for an opening. He got it, and caught Cannon on the nob. Cannon took without flinching, and returned with activity. It was a fine specimen of unshrinking courage on both sides, and slashing hits succeeded each other, right and left. In the end, Cannon slipped down, while Josh. stood firmly on his legs. Some thought this was a knock-down blow, but the fall was attributable only to the wetness of the stage. Josh. was loudly cheered by his friends.

5.—Cannon was first on his legs when time was called, but in rising showed the punishing effects of the last round; still he was fresher than Josh., and commenced his handiwork, and as he scorned to stop, Josh. countered terrifically on his right ogle. Another desperate interchange took place, till the men closed. After a vigorous wrestle, Cannon threw his man close to the rails. Poor Josh. fell on his face, and the crimson spurted from his mouth.

6.—Many thought it was all up with Josh. in the last round; but his seconds were on the alert, screwed his nob to the right bearing, and he again came up with undiminished courage, although a very ugly study for an artist. He rushed to his man with true game, and in his characteristic style planted a heavy blow on Cannon’s left cheek, close to the eye, on which he inflicted a cut, and nearly shut up that shop. Cannon was again active, and followed his man to the stakes, when a rally followed, and ultimately Josh. went down on his hands and knees. Both were weak.

7.—Both men on reaching the scratch were distressed, but Josh.’s bellows went the fastest. Josh. retreated, and was closely followed; he, however, hit straight from his shoulder, and made his mark; but Cannon, nothing behind, returned the compliment with a terrific sneezer. A grapple followed, and Josh. was severely hit, and fell heavily.

8.—It was now manifest to all that Cannon was the strongest man and in the best condition, and the backers of Josh. began to take an affectionate farewell of their blunt; in fact, the good judges thought Josh. had no chance. On coming to the assault, however, both men were groggy, and although they interchanged blows, the effect was not very apparent. A gentle tap on Cannon’s old sore assisted in completing that part of the mark, and the eye was completely closed. Cannon now bored in with undeniable spirit, and a struggle took place for the fall. Josh. had the advantage, and threw Cannon, but afterwards rolled over him. The fall was not of an effective character.

9.—Cannon came up fresher than Josh., and mutual blows were given, neither shrinking from their weight. It was all tussle and punishment. Cannon at last slipped down, and it was still thought probable that Josh. might come round and win.

10.—Both came up dreadfully punished, Cannon’s remaining ogle getting the worse for wear, and Josh. distilling the Burgundy in half a dozen directions. Again did the men show their unshaken fortitude: there was no retreating, but milling in the first style. At last they came to a stand-still, and their blows were as powerless as if they wore the gloves. In the close both went down, Cannon under.

11.—Cannon’s left cheek, on coming to the scratch, was bleeding, but still he was first to the call, and again showed his superiority of condition by his active readiness. He rushed in to fight, but was met boldly by Josh., and interchanges followed. Cannon, in getting away, slipped on his crupper a third time: his shoes were without spikes or nails, which rendered this accident more frequent.

12.—Both came up steady, but Josh. was “piping all hands.” A longer spar, or rather stand-still, took place in this round, before commencing, than had occurred during the fight. At last Cannon let fly with his right on Josh.’s canister, and Josh. returned heavily on his smeller. (“Well done, Josh.”) Bustle followed—tap and tap—when Cannon once more slipped down.

13.—Sparring for breath. Josh. on the retreat. At length Cannon delivered an ugly compliment with his left on Josh.’s mug. Josh. returned, and they both fought to the stakes. They here showed their resolution and their disinclination to “take it easy;” and at length Cannon slipped down. Both were dreadfully punished, but Josh.’s physog. exhibited the strongest marks of seasoning—it was peppered all over.

14.—Cannon hit Josh. with his left, and Josh. countered with his right. In a rally, Cannon hit and slipped, but brought up before he reached the boards, and rushing again to his man with thorough game, evidently showed his heart to be in the right place. Good milling followed, and both went down distressed. Nothing could equal the goodness of Josh.’s nature, but he was evidently on the wane. Both men, in fact, hit till there was not a hit left, and in this round Josh.’s head came heavily in contact with one of the side stakes. (The odds were now two and three to one on Cannon, but there was not much betting.)

15.—Josh, had clearly booked himself for a suit in chancery; but Sampson exclaimed that he was better on coming to the mark. Both were anxious for the affray, and, rushing in, they struggled to the stakes, where several hits were exchanged; but neither of the men were capable of doing execution. They embraced, not very lovingly, and struggled hard for the fall. Josh. got it, and fell on his man, but the exertion did him more harm than good, and Cannon was not much hurt.

16 and last.—The men fought to the stakes, and here they hit at each other, change for change, like smiths at an anvil, but they were both powerless in their blows. Josh., however, was evidently in the worst state, and was reduced to a complete doldrum. At last they broke from the stakes, and Cannon, grappling his man, threw him a tremendous fall, dropping on him as he fell. It was now all UP. Josh.’s head had come in contact with the boards, and his frame was shaken to a stand-still. Sampson picked him up, and did all he could to awaken him to time. It was in vain, however: his time for fighting had ceased, and he could come no more. Cannon did not seem conscious that it was all over, and advanced to the scratch. Spring, however, threw up his hat, and a general shout announced the termination of the contest, in a few seconds under twenty minutes. Cannon had some heavy bets on himself, and has cleared upwards of £1,000 by his exertions, which will tile him for the rest of his life. All the knowing ones were floored: they made certain of Josh.’s success, and backed him in large sums. The East-enders were dreadfully chop-fallen at this second disappointment of their hopes, and downfal to their pride. Little was said, but the elongation of faces and shrugging of shoulders afforded sufficient evidence of what was felt.

Remarks.—With regard to the character of this fight little is to be said beyond an unqualified eulogium on the bravery of both the men. In the first round it was clear that Cannon was the best man, and that his confidence in himself had not been misplaced. Neither of them showed science: it was, in the true sense of the word, a John Bull affair, in which giving and taking was the only study. He who could give and take most proved to be the best man. Praise is equally due to the one and to the other; and we consider that Cannon’s success is attributable solely to his superior condition. Josh. could not bear to be reduced beyond a certain point; and by his training at this late season of the year, whatever might be his appearance at first sight, he had evidently weakened his constitution. Cannon is not a showy fighter, but he holds his hands up well before him, and in a rally he is always doing a little. He was heavily punished, and was removed in the carriage of his backer to the Regent Hotel, Leamington, and under the medical care of Mr. Jeffson he recovered from his injuries in a shorter time than could have been expected. Hudson was taken to the Castle Inn, Warwick, and put to bed.

On November 29, 1824, Cannon left London with £750 of his winnings, with the intention of opening a tavern at Windsor, with Mrs. Cannon.

Early in 1825 (February 15), in compliance with a desire of the amateurs, Tom Cannon gave a sparring exhibition at the Fives Court, in which Josh. and himself fought their battle of Warwick over again with the mufflers. Josh. was pronounced, despite his fat, to have the best of the “science,” but the activity was with Cannon. “Bravo, Josh.!” at each hit or stop, resounded from all parts of the Court at each manœuvre of the old favourite. The bills and advertisements were headed “Tom Cannon, the Champion of England,” and a challenge for £1,000 was given to any disputant of his title. The door-money was over £100, exclusive of the sale of private tickets.

Cannon now went on a tour, after winning a foot-race of 200 yards with “Squire Smith,” at Shepperton, for a stake of £20 a-side, February 19, 1825, in handsome style. In the following month we find him at Brighton, with his patron, Mr. Hayne, where matches at billiards and wrestling had been made by Mr. Hayne with a well-known Irish adventurer, Mr. Carney. At billiards Mr. Hayne had chosen the celebrated Jonathan (Kentfield) as his representative. It would appear that Mr. Carney caught Mr. Hayne “upon the bustle” early one morning, and backed himself for 100 guineas, p. p., 100 up, Mr. Hayne to find a player who should give him (Carney) 70 points! and this without consulting Jonathan on the matter. At the same time Mr. Hayne backed Cannon to wrestle with Mr. Carney, “collar and elbow,” for £50 a-side, “best of three falls.” Jonathan, winning the toss, named his own table in Manchester Street, for the trial of skill. There was a great muster of sporting men on Thursday, March 24, 1825, and ten to one was betted that Mr. Hayne would forfeit. There was little betting on the play, as it was the general opinion that the odds were preposterously great. Cannon offered £20 to £15 that Carney won. The affair was over in eighteen minutes, Carney winning straight “off the balls,” so soon as he got the cue in hand. Carney played with judgment and coolness, and won the match with credit to himself. He declined another match with forty given. With regard to the wrestling, the following placard was posted in Brighton:

“Ireland’s Royal Grounds will be a scene of great attraction this day (Thursday). A wrestling match, for a heavy stake, will take place between Cannon from Windsor (the celebrated pugilist) and a sporting gentleman amateur from Ireland, at two o’clock; the best of three falls. In addition to which, the art of self-defence will be exhibited by White-headed Bob and Gaynor, with other gymnastic sports. Price of admission, 2s. The large room will be appropriated entirely for the ladies who may honour the above manly exhibition with their presence. Every attention will be paid to render the amusements highly interesting to the visitors.”

The crowd at “Ireland’s Ground” was immense, and there was no end of wrangle as to the true definition of “collar and elbow,” the Carney division determining to have “the pull” on their side, if possible. Then arose the question as to whether the game allowed the elegant and humane practice of kicking each other’s shins. Mister Carney had come with his legs swathed in woollen list; but at last Cannon took off his boots, Carney divested himself of his bandages and heavy shoes, and it was finally settled that the umpires should place the hands of the wrestlers on each other’s shoulders and elbows, and leave them. Cannon was dressed in a new jacket and breeches, without any handkerchief on his neck. Carney wore an old blue dress coat and light pantaloons; his fine figure was much admired. We remember him well about town, in his fatter and latter days, when he was a constant frequenter of “Silver Hell,” near Leicester Square, and perpetually engaged in legal or personal war with the notorious Barnard Gregory and the Satirist newspaper; his six feet of height, and fifteen or sixteen stone of weight, still marking him as an opponent one would rather let alone than challenge.

There was little in the match to call for description. Cannon declared he did not understand the style of wrestling. After a short struggle, Carney succeeded in tripping his man, and bringing him almost sideways to the ground. Cannon denied it was a “back fall.” The umpires disagreed, but the referee gave it to Carney. £10 to £5, and then £30 to £10, were offered on Carney. After some play the men were down in a scrambling fall; Cannon was on his knees, and Carney fell over him. This was declared “No fall.” The third and deciding bout was more spirited. Cannon tried to show off, but Carney, with great activity, “heeled” his man so cleverly, that down went “the Great Gun” clean on his back. Cannon jumped up, and with the utmost good humour exclaimed that he had lost the match. He repeated that “he didn’t understand the game.” The whole was over in eight minutes.

White-headed Bob and Gaynor next made their bows, and set-to. The talents of the “White-nobbed One” gave him the best of it, although Gaynor exerted himself to give satisfaction. It was expected Cannon would have had a turn with Baldwin; but “the Great Gun” immediately set off for the metropolis. Five-and-twenty pounds were collected at the doors, which were distributed among the candidates for fame, Mr. Ireland reserving one-fifth for the use of his grounds. Mr. Carney, however, generously made the host a present of his share.

Cannon’s pretensions to the championship were not allowed to remain unchallenged. Jem Ward put in his claim, and, as already recorded,^[42] on July 19, 1825, at Warwick, Cannon was defeated, in ten rounds, occupying ten minutes only. The heat of the weather was so intense that several persons fainted and were carried from the ground. Cannon stood £200 of his own money, and £200 in his backer’s bets. During the dispute at Tattersall’s about the stakes, Tom publicly said, that as £200 of the battle-money belonged to him, that should be given to Ward, whatever might be done with the rest. He added, that he should like another trial with Ward, but that he had lost all his spare cash.

In August, 1825, Tom Cannon and Peter Crawley “starred” it at the Coburg (now the Victoria) Theatre in a piece called “The fight at Warwick,” which, we are told, was attractive and lucrative to the management.^[43]

Cannon’s next match was with Ned Neale (see Life of Neale, post), the Streatham Youth, which was decided in an enclosure at Warfield, Berks, February 20, 1827. Neale proved the winner in thirty minutes, after twenty-two hard-fought rounds. The odds were at one time in Tom’s favour, who attributed his defeat to a severe hurt in the shoulder from a heavy fall.

This was Cannon’s last public appearance as principal within the ropes. In November, 1827, Tom seconded Jem Burn in his second fight with Ned Neale, on the same ground at Warfield. The day was wretchedly damp and wintry, and Cannon caught so severe a cold that he was laid up with lumbago, and for several months was a cripple. Cannon still found a friend in Mr. Hayne. Though that gentleman had retired from “the turf and ring,” he placed him in the Castle, in Jermyn Street, St. James’s. Here, through his civility and attention, he was well supported for a time; but Tom’s friends wore off, and new ones came not. His health, too, was precarious, and he retired from business, not upon a competency, we regret to say. For nearly eighteen years Tom disappeared from an active part in ring affairs, and resided at Strand-on-the-Green, in the capacity of a swan-watcher for the Corporation. Severe attacks of the gout and rheumatism disqualifying him from all exertion, he fell into a state of hypochondria, and on Sunday, the 11th of July, 1858, terminated his existence by suicide with a pistol, in the sixty-ninth year of his age, leaving a constant and attentive widow in narrow circumstances to lament his loss. Jem Burn and some other friends of the old school kindly strove to alleviate her forlorn condition.

Among the names which a pugilistic Plutarch might find difficult to parallel for lion-hearted, fearless, and indomitable pluck, that of Josh. Hudson may be fairly cited. “The John Bull Fighter,” as his friends and admirers at the East-end fondly called him, fought his way into the battle of life at Rotherhithe, on the 21st of April, 1797. Although fond of a mill from his youth upwards, the juvenile John Bull earned the character of a thorough good-natured fellow, and this he preserved through life. There was no ferocity in Josh.’s composition, though once aroused in the fight his hitting was truly terrific, and his gameness in receiving as remarkable as his readiness in refusing to take an advantage of his adversary. Josh, was by no means an uninformed man, and, barring a propensity for practical jokes—a common thing in his day—remarkably inoffensive.

Josh.’s first reported contest was with Jack Payne, the butcher, at Dartford Brim, October 22, 1816, for ten guineas a-side. Jack, when he pleased, could fight well, but he was thought, not without reason, to lose pluck whenever he had not the “lead” in his hands. He soon found he had “caught a Tartar” in young Josh., for in thirty-five minutes he cried “enough!”

Our hero now flew at higher game, and challenged Aby Belasco. After a determined battle of one hour and thirty minutes the affair ended in a wrangle; Clark and Peter Warren, who seconded Josh., taking their man away. Belasco, however, got the stakes.

Hudson’s next battle was with Street, April 5, 1817, which he won in one hour and ten minutes. In “Boxiana,” vol. ii., p. 477, “Street” is called “Connelly.” It was David, Josh.’s brother, who fought and beat Connelly. Tom Oliver and Clark seconded Josh. in this battle.

His next match was with Charles Martin, at Sawbridgeworth, for a stake of twenty guineas, June 10, 1817. Richmond and Harry Holt seconded Josh., who won cleverly in thirty minutes.

Thompson, an Essex coachman, and rather fast with his fists, fancied Josh. for a “tenner,” and challenged him within six weeks of the last-named battle. They fought at Woolwich, July 17, 1817, when, in twenty-five minutes, Thompson dropped his whip and declined any further proceedings.

Josh, having in a spree “milled the wrong person,” was bound over by the magistrates to keep the peace for twelve months. He determined to keep out of the way of mischief for that period, so engaged himself as butcher on board the Surat Castle, Indiaman. Pierce Egan embellishes this voyage with fights with nobodies, to fill up the story of Josh.’s sea life. On his return, Hudson accepted the challenge of a formidable Chatham caulker, of the name of Bowen. This rough and ready customer stood six feet two inches in his stockings, and weighed thirteen stone and a half without an ounce of superfluous flesh; while Josh, drew ten stone seven pounds at scale. The battle was truly desperate; but in seventeen minutes Josh. was knocked out of time. This occurred on March 25, 1819.

Josh. lost no time in emerging from the cold shade of defeat, and on Tuesday, April 17, 1819, a month after the last event, he entered the ropes with Williams, the waterman, for ten guineas a-side, in Essex, opposite to Woolwich Warren. There were 5,000 persons present, say the reports at the time. Hudson was the favourite at five to four. At thirteen minutes past one Tom Owen and Donnelly conducted Josh. into the ring, followed by Williams, who was seconded by Tom Oliver and Harry Holt. The first three rounds were full of manœuvring, and decidedly in favour of the waterman; but when Josh. came to force the fighting, the scene was quickly changed. The waterman, however, proved a truly game man: he was terribly punished before the sponge was thrown up; and Josh., too, had napped it heavily. It was on both sides a manly fight, and Josh. was prophesied by Tom Owen—who dubbed him “his boy”—as likely to take a top place among the boxers of England.

On the 24th of August, 1819, at the renowned battle-field of Moulsey, after Cy. Davis had beaten Boshell, a purse of 25 guineas was made up on the ground, and Jack Scroggins (John Palmer, see his life in vol. i.) agreed to fight Josh. Hudson for the amount. Tom Owen and Sutton esquired Hudson, Harry Harmer and Tom Shelton picked up “Scroggy.” Scroggins hesitated, saying, he had been drinking overnight, and was in bad condition: but, added the daring little sailor, “Here goes—I’ll have a shy for it.” The fight requires but little description; Scroggins rushed headlong at his opponent, scrambling for a hit, and often losing his balance. Josh., on the contrary, was steady, and nobbed the once formidable hero with stupefying effect. When Scroggins fell at the close of round one, two to one was offered on Josh., and soon after three to one was without takers. At the end of the sixth round Tom Owen exclaimed, “It’s your own, Josh., my boy; you don’t want any seconding. Meet him as he comes in—one more like that, and the ‘pence’ you shall have.” In the eleventh and last round Scroggins over-reached himself, and came down on his knees, when Josh. caught him a stinger on the side of the head. “Foul, foul!” “Fair, fair!” echoed from all sides of the ring, for the rough and ready “merry-andrew of the ring” had many friends. The umpires decided the blow to be unintentional, and ordered them to “go on.” Scroggins refused, declaring he “was not used fair.” The purse was then awarded to Hudson. Scroggins, during the first few rounds was as full of antics as a clown in a pantomime, but soon became convinced that he was getting the worst of it, and broke off with an attempt to “snatch a verdict.” About this period Phil. Sampson, the Birmingham Youth, who had, as will be seen by his biography, a talent for quarrelling with his friends, fell out, Phil., more suo, talking about “serving out” Josh. at the first opportunity. Hence, after Ned Turner and Martin had left the ring (see Life of Turner, vol. i.), on the 26th of October, 1819, at Wallingham Common, Surrey, ten guineas a-side having been posted, and a ten guinea purse subscribed by the P. C., Sampson intimated his readiness to meet Josh., and the John Bull Fighter stepped into the ring with alacrity. Tom Owen and Purcell waited upon Hudson; Shelton and Harmer seconded the Birmingham Youth. On stripping, Owen said to Josh., “Now, my boy, remember the multum in parvo.” “Is that a new hit?” asked Josh. laughing. “No, my boy,” replied Tom; “it’s Latin for doing a lot of work in a little time.” “I’m awake,” replied Josh.; “he won’t catch me napping.” The men stood up, and the seconds having retired to their corners, they began—

Round 1.—Scarcely had the combatants shaken hands than it appeared that they had no intention to protract hostilities. Sampson dashed in at Josh. and planted a tremendous teazer flush in his ivories. Josh. returned, and some rattling exchanges followed, Sampson literally nobbing Hudson till he reeled staggering away; but he returned to the attack like a bull-dog, and went on weaving away till he was hit down. (Tumultuous applause for Sampson, and the two to one offered on Hudson no longer heard. “I’ll bet six to four, and have Sampson,” cried a Corinthian amateur.)

2.—Sampson again led off, and nobbed Josh. three times on the head. Josh. returned, and caught Phil. heavily on the ribs and side of the head. The men got into a ding-dong rally, right and left, in which unshrinking courage was displayed on both sides. The round closed by both being down side by side covered with claret.

Twenty-five rounds ensued, occupying forty minutes, all of which were distinguished for tremendous fighting. Hudson received three or four flooring hits. In one instance, in the struggle, he fell with his knee on the private parts of Sampson, when the latter observed, “Is that the way you mean to win it, Josh.?” “I couldn’t help it—it was accident,” replied Hudson. “Well, I believe it was,” said Sampson. This small trait of feeling during the rage of battle is a fine proof of the generous courage of Englishmen. Such a good fight has not often been witnessed. At length victory was declared in favour of Hudson. It was a nice thing, and dearly bought, for Josh. fainted on his second’s knee after he was proclaimed the conqueror.

Hudson, from the game and milling talents he had displayed, was next matched against Jack Martin, for 50 guineas a-side, which took place at Colnbrook, on Tuesday, December 14, 1819, when, in the second round, Hudson’s shoulder was dislocated, and of course he lost the battle. (See the Life of Martin in vol. i.)

In the course of the evening after the battle, Hudson, in company with a friend, called at the house of Abrams (Little Puss), near the Royalty Theatre, to take a glass of liquor. One Guyly, a big costermonger, took up some money which was upon the tap-room table, belonging to Hudson, and refused to return it. The courage of Josh. made him forget the crippled state of his shoulder for the instant, and he let fly so severely upon the nob of Guyly that the saucy costermonger quickly gave back the cash. Owing to this circumstance a report got into circulation that it was untrue that Hudson’s shoulder had ever been put out by Martin.

An off-hand match was made for Hudson against Rasher, a determined Welshman, a butcher belonging to Whitechapel Market. The latter boxer had the weight of Josh.; nevertheless, he fought Rasher ten guineas to eight. This contest took place at Plaistow, in Essex, on Tuesday, January 11, 1820. Hudson was seconded by Owen and his brother David; Rasher by Mendoza and Cy. Davis. It occupied twenty-nine minutes and a half, and fifteen rounds. After the first round, which was tremendously contested, Hudson had it all his own way. The science displayed by Josh. was much admired, and he made many clever feints with his left hand, to get the right well into play. Rasher was covered with claret, and his gameness astonished every one present, but he was too slow in his movements. He was floored in the last round; and on coming to himself wanted to renew the fight.

Hudson, still continuing to rise in the estimation of his friends, was backed against Benniworth, the Essex champion, the hero of the country for several miles round, for 50 guineas a-side. Benniworth was six feet in height, weighing thirteen stone twelve pounds; nevertheless, Hudson was the favourite. This contest took place on Tuesday, April 4, 1820, on a common near Billericay, in Essex. Hudson was seconded by Owen and Purcell; Benniworth was attended by his brother and another yokel.

Round 1.—About a minute elapsed in sparring, Benniworth making numerous awkward feints, and dancing about, sometimes standing with his right leg first, then changing it for the left. He made three or four hits, but they proved short. At length Benniworth made a slight blow with his right hand on Hudson’s body. Josh. seeing what sort of a customer he had before him, made play, and let fly right and left in the middle of Benniworth’s nob, both of which told, and the claret flowed copiously. Benniworth’s left eye was much damaged. He rushed in to his opponent, when, in getting away, Hudson’s heel hung in the grass, and Benniworth made a slight half round hit on the neck with his left hand, flooring him. (Great rejoicings from the yokels.)

2.—Hudson, with much dexterity, in a sort of half-arm rally, placed three straight hits on Benniworth’s nob. Josh. also drew backwards, and avoided all Benniworth’s half round blows. Hudson now made himself well up, and planted a most tremendous right-handed blow on the nose of his opponent that floored him like a shot. (Any odds, but no takers, and the Johnny Raws all blue.)

Further description would be useless. Hudson had it thenceforth all his own way. He laughed at Benniworth, and nobbed him at pleasure. The Essex champion lost his temper, rushed in, and followed Hudson all over the ring, with his head leaning forward and both his hands open. Hudson kept retreating, and jobbing his adversary on the head with his left hand. Benniworth was a complete receiver-general; nevertheless, he succeeded in driving Hudson to the ropes; but here he had the worst of it, a guinea to a shilling. Josh. nobbed him terribly away; and in following him, floored him with a terrific right-handed hit on his nose. Benniworth, when “time” was called, was in such a state of stupor that he could not leave the knee of his second, whereon Hudson was declared the conqueror.

Thus was the vaunted rustic champion disposed of in the short space of seven minutes. As a scientific pugilist, Benniworth did not appear to possess a single point: he had no idea of fighting. From the moment he entered the ring Hudson kept laughing at him, and beat him without a scratch upon his face. It certainly was a laughable, but not an interesting contest; and it was matter of astonishment how such a boxer could have obtained so terrific a character. Upon the Essex champion coming to himself, he exclaimed, with great surprise, “Be I licked?” “You are, indeed,” replied Josh., laughing; “but you may have a round or two for fun, if you like it, Benny.” “Noa, noa,” said the champion; “as I’ve lost the stakes, there be no fun in that loike.” Benniworth, it seems, had made so sure of conquest, that he invited his mother and sister to be near at hand. The yokels had also booked it, and provided themselves with blue ribbons to decorate their hats the instant victory was declared in Benniworth’s favour.

Josh. was suddenly called into action with Spring at Moulsey Hurst, on Tuesday, June 27, 1820, for a purse of £20; and, notwithstanding the disparity of size, weight, and science between the combatants, Hudson showed himself a good man. (See the Memoir of Spring, vol. ii.)

Hudson, during the time he was at Norwich, had a battle with Abraham Belasco in the long room at Gurney’s Bowling Green, July 19, 1820. In this contest, which might be termed for honour, Josh.’s shoulder went in and out three times.

Moulsey Hurst, on Tuesday, December 5, 1820, was again the favourite “bit of turf” for a genteel mill between a swell of the name of Williams and Josh. Hudson. Williams was unknown to the mass of sporting men; but those persons who knew him pretended to be acquainted with his prime fighting qualities, and chaffed all the old ring-goers out of conceit of their own judgment, and Williams was the favourite, six and five to four. This sort of “whisper” importance was also kept up at friendly Bob Lawrence’s, the Red Lion, at Hampton, where the fancy met to take a bit of a snack before they crossed the water, and make their “books” complete. Richmond, downy as a hammer, spoke in raptures of the swell’s superior science with the gloves. Bill Eales, who had stood before Williams many times, nay, who had given him instructions several years back, pronounced him “a downright slaughterer.” The Master of the Rolls was quite infatuated with this pink of the gloves. Martin had tried him again and again, and not having found Williams “wanting,” was this day £50 the worse for his opinion. Tom Shelton was also led away by the stream, and Spring was taken in upon the same suit. Oliver, too, was out of his know, and out of pocket in consequence. Cocker had nothing to do with the fight in question; indeed, who could make any calculation about an unknown man? Randall and Belcher, somehow or other, were persuaded into the good milling qualities of their hero; in short, there was a sort of fashion attached to the betting. The “Swell” was supported and brought forward by the swells. Judgment was shoved, as it were, into the background, or else a novice in the ring would never have been backed, at high odds, against a well-known high-couraged man, one who had often been put to the test, and admitted to be a boxer of talent. But then the shoulder of Hudson was ricketty; no dependence could be placed upon it. Things went on in this manner till about a few minutes before one o’clock, when Williams appeared and threw his hat into the ring, followed by Belcher and Randall as his seconds. The look of Williams was swellish in the extreme. He bowed in the most graceful manner, and there was a superior air about him. He paced the ring up and down for about eight minutes, when Josh., with his white topper, a fancy upper Benjamin, and a blue bird’s eye round his neck, came brushing along and threw his castor into the ring. He immediately went up to Williams and shook hands with him in the true open-hearted English style. To witness the manly act, this characteristic trait of Britons, is worth more in its influence upon society than the perusal of a thousand canting essays tending to fritter down the courage of Englishmen. Williams observed to Hudson, that he hoped there was no animosity between them. “Not in the least,” said he; “we are going to fight for a prize, and to see which is the best man.” Tom Owen and Ned Turner were the seconds for Josh. The latter tied his colours (yellow) to the stakes, and Randall covered them with the blue of Williams. Owen, who had never seen “the Swell” till he entered the ring with “his boy” Josh., observed to the latter, “Why, my chaff-cutter, if you don’t go and lick this Bond Street blade in a jiffy, the white topper shall never more be placed on your nob. My dear boy, the East against the West End for milling.”

Round 1.—On stripping, Williams displayed a fine muscular frame, and good legs; but his face was pale, and his countenance showed him to be between forty and fifty years of age. Josh. was in high trim, and seemed confident of winning. Some time elapsed after the combatants had placed themselves in attitude before Williams let fly; but Hudson got away. Counter hits followed, when Josh.’s right eye showed blood, and the nose of the swell looked a little red. Williams made a right-handed hit, which Hudson stopped prettily, and then went to work. The exchanges were sharp and hard, but the wisty-castors of Josh. were so tremendous that he spoilt the gentility of the Swell, and positively milled him down. (Great applause from the plebeians; and Tom Owen smilingly said to Josh., “I told you so, my boy: that’s the way to clear Regent Street in a brace of shakes.” Seven to four.)

2.—Josh.’s eye was bleeding when he came up to the scratch. The Swell looked rather puzzled; but he touched Hudson’s other peeper so severely that his nob was chanceried for an instant. Hudson made a plunge with his right hand upon his opponent’s face that produced the claret, followed him up to the ropes, and punished him down. (Three to one, and “It’s poundable,” was the cry. Here Owen told Josh. he had “done the trick, and lots of Daffy were in store for him.”)

3.—The confident appearance of Williams had left him; he had paid a visit, as Tom said, to “Pepper Alley.” Williams showed game, but he had no chance to win. He, however, made some sharp hits; but the pepper-box was again administered, and Williams went down distressed. (Ten to one.)

4.—This round was the quietus; the Swell was hit out of the ring. It was Cayenne at every dose. Williams was completely done up, and his seconds dragged him up all but gone.

5.—Williams was brought up to the scratch in a most distressed state. He, however, showed fight, and with his right hand put in a heavy body blow: it was his last effort. Josh. now went in right and left, and punished the Swell so terribly that he staggered and fell against the ropes; but, on recovering himself a little, Tom Owen said to Josh., “Don’t give a chance away; a finisher only is wanting.” The finisher was applied, and Williams was down all abroad. The swells looked blue, and Josh. received thunders of applause. (“Take him away!” was the general cry.) Josh. in this round did not like to hit the Swell when he had got him at the ropes, feeling like the British sailor, so finely described by Dibdin—