The cup, as indicated in the doggrel to which P. E. is engraved, is heart-shaped. On the cover is the figure of a sailor, with an anchor and foul cable. The report goes on:—“In front of the cup a small heart appears over four divisions, intended for the boxers’ coat of arms. The first division represents the pugilists in attitude. The second portrays one of the combatants down on his knees, his opponent with his arms held up walking away, in order to show that he will not take any unfair advantage. The third division exhibits the battle at an end, the defeated man sitting upon the knee of his second in the act of shaking hands with the victor, to evince that no malice exists between them. The fourth depicts the honours of conquest—the conqueror carried out of the ring upon the shoulders of his seconds, with the purse in his hands. Several other appropriate embellishments appear on the different parts of the cup, on the bottom of which the lion is seen with the lamb reposing at his feet; and at no great distance from the lion is the English bull-dog, as a second to the king of the forest.”

The affair of Hudson and Sampson was fixed for Tuesday, May 11, 1824, at Haydon Grange Farm, forty miles from the metropolis. Hudson was originally the favourite, at five and six to four, and heavy sums were laid out on him at Tattersall’s at these figures. But on the day before the fight there was a rush to get on to Sampson, and the odds went about at six to four on the Birmingham Youth. This sudden change terrified the East-enders, and many tried to get off.

At one o’clock the ring was formed in a most delightful situation, and, punctual to time, Josh. threw his white topper into the ring. Just before, however, the backers of Sampson declared that they preferred forfeiting the £100 stakes to the risk of losing more than £1,000, as numbers of sporting men had declared off, and that they would not pay if Hudson lost the battle. Hereupon Hudson’s backers offered to cancel the old articles, and post £100 for a new match to come off there at two o’clock. This was refused, and the altercation became violent, but Sampson’s backers said he should not fight that day. The wrangle having subsided, two Cambridge men, Samuel Larkins^[47] and William Shadbolt, of local fame, and both styled “champions,” threw their hats into the ring. The Cantabs, who were in force, took great interest in the result. Paddington Jones and Jem Ward seconded Larkins, and Tom Oliver and Ned Stockman picked up Shadbolt. Larkins, in nineteen rounds, polished off Shadbolt completely.

Hudson walked round the ring, conversing with his friends during the battle. The John Bull Fighter was never in such excellent condition in any previous battle, and loudly expressed himself dissatisfied at receiving the battle-money without a fight. “The sporting world,” said Josh. “are my best friends; to them I owe everything, and I am sorry they should have come so many miles on my account to be disappointed. It is not my fault, and I hope they will not blame me for circumstances I have nothing to do with.” On leaving the ground, and passing the Grange Farm House, Hudson met with Sampson, when they shook hands together. The ground was soon cleared, and the company was off. Hudson returned to London in a post-chaise and four, and arrived about two o’clock in the morning. Sampson also moved for the metropolis with the utmost speed. The sporting houses were filled with company, and every one out of humour at having travelled nearly a hundred miles to be laughed at for his pains.

By the advice of his best friends, and in consequence of his constitutional tendency to corpulency, which resisted the effects of ordinary training, Josh. now took leave of the P. R. in an address at the Tennis Court. His next step was to “commit the crime the clargy call matrimony,” with the complicity of a very amiable and respectable young woman, who quickly developed into the agreeable hostess of the Half Moon Tap, in Leadenhall Market, where “Jolly Josh.,” brimful of fun and facetiousness, held his opening dinner on the 23rd of January, 1825. Josh., though he retired from activity as a principal, kept up his ring connection, and was foremost not only in backing and match-making on behalf of the East-enders as in rivalry with the Corinthians of the West, but never spared himself in the anxious and often laborious duties of seconding any man worthy of his care and patronage, or of setting-to for his benefit, as may be seen in these pages on many occasions. A paragraph which we find in a newspaper of this period may show that Josh.’s “right hand” had not “lost its cunning” by reason of bar-practice, and also throws a side-light on our hero’s manly readiness to champion the defenceless.

“Gallantry.—As Hudson, the well-known pugilist, was passing along Ratcliff Highway, a clumsy coalheaver elbowed a pregnant woman off the pavement into the road. The feelings of Josh. were roused at this unmanly conduct, and he remonstrated pretty forcibly with Coaly for his bad behaviour. The reply he got was a cut from a trouncing whip. This was too much. Without further ceremony Josh. judged his distance and gave Coaly such a pile-driver that he went down on the stones as if he had been shot. It was a minute or two before he recovered, and then, declining to get up for ‘another round,’ Josh.’s name being upon every one’s tongue, the humbled bully sneaked into a public-house to talk the matter over with his brethren of the sack.”—Sunday Monitor, July, 1825.

Among Josh.’s generous qualities were his grateful remembrance of past services and favours and his firm adherence to a friend in adversity. Of this there is extant an instance so creditable to both parties concerned, that we cannot forbear its repetition.

An old friend of Josh.’s early days having, by reverse of fortune, by no means unfrequent among sporting men, fallen into a difficulty which called upon him for the immediate payment of some £50, applied, in his extremity, to mine host of “the Half Moon.” Josh., who had not the cash by him, was sadly annoyed at the idea of being compelled to refuse such an application from one from whom he had received favours. A sudden thought struck him. There was his “Cup,” lying snug in its case in his iron safe. On that he could raise a temporary loan, and nobody the wiser. Desiring his friend to make himself at home while he went for “the mopusses,” Josh. possessed himself of the piece of plate, hurried out at the side-door, and after a sharp toddle presented himself, blowing like a grampus, in one of the small boxes of a neighbouring “Uncle” in Bishopsgate Street. Josh. was not only a well-known public character, but it so happened that “mine Uncle” was an admirer of the “noble art.” Josh. unlocked his box, and drew forth his well-earned trophy. The assistant eyed him with some curiosity.

“How much?”

“Forty pounds!” gasped Jolly Josh. not yet recovered from his run.

The assistant stepped into his employer’s sanctum, who instantly returned with the shining pledge in his hands.

A brief colloquy explained the position of affairs. Josh. wanted forty pounds.

“Mine Uncle” proceeded to his desk, but not to make out the “ticket” required by law. He merely wrote an acknowledgment, to be signed by Josh., that he had received a loan of forty pounds. This “mine Uncle” presented to him for signature. Josh. was overwhelmed.

“No, no,” said mine Uncle! “Take back your Cup, Josh., you must not be without it. Pay me, as I know you will, as soon as you are able. I’ll not have that piece of wedge go to sale anyhow.”

Josh returned to the Half Moon with both money and cup; discharged the duty of friendship, and the pawnbroker lost nothing by his confidence.

We must preserve the name of the generous pawnbroker (strange coupling of epithets!), it was Folkard, and the assistant was the youth who, in after years, was the well-known Renton Nicholson, of newspaper and “Town” celebrity, from whose lips we have often heard this little episode of “John Bull and his Uncle.”

In 1827, Mrs. Hudson presented, as a second offering, a son and heir, which occasion the friends and admirers of the father celebrated by a festival on Christmas Day, whereat a silver cup was presented to the young “John Bull,” inscribed: “The gift of a few friends to Josh. Hudson, junior, born February 28th, 1827, within the sound of Bow Bells.”

The free life of a publican, with one who certainly had no inclination to check free living, was not long in telling its tale. Josh. was now visited with increasing frequency by gout and its too common sequel, dropsy, and died at the age of thirty-eight, on the 8th of October, 1835, at the Flying Horse, in Milton Street, Finsbury.

In the memoir of the redoubtable Tom Sayers, in our third volume, will be found a few remarks on the persistency with which Hibernian reporters and newspaper scribes, old and new, claim an Irish origin for fighting heroes, naval, military, and pugilistic. Ned Neale furnishes another instance of this assuming proclivity. Indeed, at the time of Neale’s appearance, the talented editor of Bell’s Life in London, Vincent George Dowling (himself of Irish descent), and Pierce Egan, were the recognised reporters of every important ring encounter—the clever but eccentric George Kent, who for twenty years had been its most active chronicler, having previously gone to his rest in the churchyard of Saint Paul’s, Covent Garden. The Bell’s Life and Dispatch accordingly prefixed a “big O” to the name of our hero, and plentifully larded their reports of Neale’s doings with Hibernian humour, misspelling his name “O’Neil,” until, in a letter to Bell’s Life, signing himself “Ned Neale, the Streatham Youth,” the young aspirant disclosed his parentage and place of birth, depriving “ould” Pierce’s rhodomontade of its applicability and point.

Ned Neale first saw the light in the pleasant village of Streatham, in Surrey, on the 22nd of March, 1805, of humble but respectable parents. His youth, it may be remarked, was passed in a period when the ring had for its patrons noblemen, gentlemen, and sportsmen, and among its professors Gully, the Belchers, Randall, Cribb, and Spring. At an early age he was in the employ of Mr. Sant, an eminent brewer near Wandsworth, and a staunch patron of the ring. Neale often stated that the first battle he witnessed was the second fight between Martin and Turner, at Crawley, on the 5th of June, 1821, and from that moment felt convinced that he “could do something in that way” himself. That he was not mistaken, his career, as here recorded, will bear witness.

Neale now placed himself under Harry Holt, and by glove practice with that accomplished tactician soon became a proficient in the use of both hands.

His patron, Mr. Sant, gratified his desire to figure in the “24–foot” by backing him for £20 a-side against Deaf Davis, a well-known veteran, a game man, and a hard hitter. The battle came off at the Barge House, Essex, opposite Woolwich Warren, on the 21st of May, 1822, Neale being then in his eighteenth year. The odds were seven to four against “the youth,” as he was booked to lose the battle by the knowing ones. Neale was seconded by Harry Holt and Paddington Jones, while Davis had the skilful seconding of Ned Turner and Dick Curtis. The contemporary report, which is brief, remarks of this battle, that it was “a rattling mill for the first forty minutes,” prolonged for another hour by Davis’s “manœuvring and going down,” without even getting a turn in his favour. In the “remarks” we are told “Neale proved himself a good hitter, a steady boxer, and one who can take without flinching; we shall no doubt hear more of him by-and-by. His youth and good condition carried him through triumphantly.” We may here note that in “Fistiana,” by a typographical error, the battle is set down as for “£100” and lasting “20 minutes.” It should read “100 minutes and £20 a-side.”

The ordeal passed, Ned did not long stand idle. After Brighton Races, on the 21st July, 1822, a purse was subscribed, and the announcement being made to the London pugilists, some of whom were exhibiting their skill in the booths on Lewes Downs, Peter Crawley proposed that Neale should offer himself to “any countryman on the ground.” One Bill Cribb, a brick-maker, who held among his companions the title of the Brighton champion, and known as an exhibitor at the Fives Court, accepted the challenge. Neale was seconded by Peter Crawley and Peter Warren, Cribb by Belasco and Massa Kendrick (the man of colour). No time was lost, and the men at once began.

Round 1.—The Brighton man looked hard and muscular. He at once went to work right and left, but was short, from his opponent’s activity. Neale nobbed his man prettily, but Cribb returned in a rally, with a sounding body blow. “Well done, Brighton.” Neale stopped prettily, and in closing sent his man to grass.

2.—Neale, after a feint or two, stopped a right-hander and sent in one, two, cleverly, got away, and repeated the pepper. Cribb stood it gamely, like his namesake, but he could not get home well. In the close Cribb got Neale under.

3.—Cribb’s dial much battered, but he took it cheerfully and tried to lead off. Neale again gave him a postman’s double knock on the middle of the head that sent him back into his corner. He, however fought his way out, but slipped down.

4, 5, 6, 7.—Similar to the third round, except that in the last Neale hit Cribb clean off his legs. Two to one offered.

8.—Cribb could not keep Neale’s fist from his face, yet he fought game till his strength failed, and he got down anyhow.

9.—Neale set aside the efforts of his opponent with ease and coolness. Cribb could not keep him out, and was again down.

10.—The Brighton man, still game, was up determinedly, and showed fight, getting in a slovenly crack or two in a rally until punished down.

11, and last.—Cribb, without a shadow of a chance, bored in; Neale caught his head under his left arm and fibbed him severely, until he broke away quite groggy. Neale sent him down, and he was deaf to “time.” Over in fifteen minutes.

Remarks.—Neale out-fought his man at all points. It is clear no yokel must meddle with the Streatham youth. Hickman, the Gasman, held the watch, the ring was well kept, and the subscribers declared themselves well pleased with the short but sharp battle. Neale was without a mark on the face.

Three days after, on the 3rd of August, 1822, Neale being at Lewes Races, and a purse being declared, Miller, a London pugilist, known by the odd sobriquet of “The Pea-soup Gardener,” offered himself. Young Ned, “to keep his hand in,” accepted the challenge. Neale on this occasion was waited on by his late opponent, the Brighton champion, and Peter Warren—Miller by young Belasco and a friend. The fight was a fiasco. Pierce Egan says, “The pea-soup cove was made broth of in the first round.” The affair went on for six more rounds, when Miller gave up the battle, saying “he would fight any man of his weight.” Over in seven minutes.

This little provincial practice brought Neale forward, and his next appearance was on the London stage, with Hall, of Birmingham, as his opponent. Hall had just distinguished himself by defeating the once-famous Phil Sampson, of whom more anon. The affair came off at Wimbledon, on Tuesday, November 26th, 1822, Hall being the favourite at six to four, and much money was laid out by backers of Hall from the “Hardware Village.”

The road exhibited a good sprinkling of the fancy, particularly the milling coves. Martin, Randall, Shelton, Spring, Oliver, Abbot, Lenney, Brown, Hickman, Stockman, Carter, A. Belasco, Ned Turner, Scroggins, Barlow, Dolly Smith, Spencer, &c., assisted in keeping a good ring. This fight was announced to be on the square, and “lots of blunt dropped on it.”

At one o’clock Hall, accompanied by Josh Hudson and Jack Carter, attempted to throw his nob-cover into the ring, but the wind prevented it reaching the ropes. Neale soon followed, attended by Harry Holt and Paddington Jones. Hall was favourite, at six to four.

Round 1.—Hall displayed a fine frame, and his features reminded some spectators of Tom Reynolds, while others declared his figure to resemble the formidable “Gasman” (Tom Hickman). Neale also looked well, but was by no means in as good condition. Hall began, breaking ground and working round, but by no means cleverly. Neale faced him, armed at all points. Hall went in with a half-arm hit, and Neale, stepping back, caught him a flush left-hander on the nose. Hall staggered, and as Neale went in, slipped down. The Streathamites uproarious. “Take him back to Brummagem! he can’t stop, except with his head!”

2.—Hall tried to shake off the last facer. He sparred, shifted ground, and stopped one or two blows neatly. Neale forced the fighting and the men closed. Hall got hold of Neale to fib, but the Streatham Youth extricated himself, not, however, before Hall had damaged his nose and mouth by a round hit or two. Neale went down.

3.—Neale planted a heavy blow on Hall’s ear. Hall bored in and got hold of Neale, hugging him on the ropes, and trying to fib, but not effectively. Neale got down. Hall was evidently the stronger man, but the worse fighter.

4.—Hall rushed in, got a nobber, but closed and threw Neale heavily. Cheers from the hardware lads.

5.—The Streatham Youth met his man boldly and coolly, hit him twice on the head, avoiding the return, and after a sharp rally sent Hall down. The odds changed, Neale for choice, 5 to 4.

6.—Hall fought rather wild—Neale steady, and active in defence. Again Neale visited Hall’s right eye heavily, raising a large mouse. A severe struggle. Hall fell through the ropes. 6 to 4 on Neale.

7.—Hall was piping. He did not like to commence milling, for fear of consequences. “You have been a soldier,” said Josh. “Fighting is their business; why don’t you fight?” A good round was the result, and Neale was thrown.

8.—It was “bellows to mend” with Hall; and Neale was none the better for the throws. A long pause, both combatants sparring for breath. “How is your wind?” said Josh. “Like a horse,” was the reply from Hall. “Then go to work, instead of standing as independent as a gemman,” Hudson said. Neale thrown in a struggle.

9, 10, 11, 12.—More struggling at the ropes than effective blows, although lots of fibbing took place.

13.—Neale took the lead in this round, nobbed Hall over the ring, till he went down. A Babel shout of applause.

14.—Neale showed weakness; in closing he went down.

15.—The Streatham Youth went to work in this round, put in three facers without any return, and got Hall down.

16, 17, 18.—Hall showed plenty of game, but he could not fight; in close quarters he had generally the best of it.

19.—Neale, on setting-to, floored Hall; but the latter instantly jumped up, put up his hands, and said, “Oh, that’s nothing at all.”

20.—Hall came to the scratch in a shaky state, when Neale planted some sharp hits, till he went down.

21.—Hall ran Neale off his legs furiously.

22, 23.—Struggling at the ropes, till both down.

24.—Hall was so distressed that on setting-to he caught hold of Neale’s hands, when both went down in a struggle; not a blow passed between them.

25.—It was evident a round or two more must finish the fight. Much execution had been done on both sides; Neale was severely peppered about the body; he slipped down.

26, and last.—The Birmingham man getting bad in struggling at the ropes to obtain the throw he received so severe a fall on his head, that his seconds had great difficulty in lifting him from the ground. When time was called, Hall was insensible, and remained in a state of stupor for more than five minutes.

Remarks.—It was a manly fight, and the heavy hits of Neale did considerable execution. Had he been well, it was thought that Neale could have won the battle in twenty instead of thirty minutes. Hall knows little about scientific fighting; he is a random hitter, a strong wrestler, can pull and haul a man about, and does not want for game. Opposed to science and straight hitting he is lost.

Ned was now the conqueror in four succeeding battles, when Dav Hudson^[48] (brother to the John Bull fighter) was matched against him for £40 a-side. The fight took place on Tuesday, September 23rd, 1823, on Blindlow Heath, in Sussex, twenty-four miles from London. Early in the morning the fancy were in motion, the amateurs grumbling at the long distance they were compelled to go to witness a minor fight, when Wimbledon Common would have answered the purpose. Hudson came on the ground in first-rate style—a barouche and four—accompanied by a mob of East-Enders. At one o’clock Dav threw his hat into the ring, followed by his seconds, Tom Owen and Josh Hudson. Neale, a few minutes afterwards, waited upon by Harry Holt and Jem Ward, repeated the token of defiance. Six to four on Neale.

Round 1.—Hudson appeared too fat, while Neale looked as fine as a star. David hit short; Neale also got away from a second blow. In fact, it was a long scientific round, displaying considerable boxing skill on both sides, but no work; ultimately a few blows were exchanged, yet no mischief done. In struggling for the throw, Hudson was undermost.

2.—This was a similar round. Neale would not fight first, and showed great agility in getting away. It was evident in this early stage of the fight that Hudson was too short for his opponent; the loss of his eye was also a great drawback. Hudson often missed his adversary, hitting at random, owing to the above defect. In closing, both down.

3, 4, 5, 6.—Neale received two severe cross-buttocks, but he did not appear to be injured by them.

7, 8, 9, 10.—Tedious to the spectator and of no interest to the reader.

11.—This round reminded the amateurs what Davy was in his prime. He went to work boldly, when a sharp rally commenced, but the length of Neale gave him the best of it. Hudson received a tremendous hit on the left ear; the claret flowed profusely.

12.—This was a similar round, but Neale went down. Great shouting from the East Enders. “Go it, my little Davy!”

13.—Neale received another cross-buttock. David was the better wrestler.

14, 15, 16.—Hudson was terribly distressed. He was too puffy. Neale was piping a little. Neale was thrown by Hudson, alighting, like a tumbler, on his hands. Seven to four on the Streatham Youth.

17, 18, 19, 20.—The truth must be told. Stale cocks must give way to younger birds. Davy had been a publican, and the ill effects of the waste-butt here began to peep. Davy thought himself now as good a man as when he beat Harry Holt, disposed of West Country Dick, and defeated Scroggins. That his courage was equally good cannot be denied. But nature will not be played tricks with; and training cannot make a young man, though it may help an old one. In all the above rounds Hudson could not reduce the strength of his adversary.

21, 22.—Hudson’s face had received pepper, and Neale’s mug was rather flushed. Each seemed to be anxious to throw the other, and closed quickly.

23.—Neale received a severe hit between his eyes, that made him wink again. He, however, recovered, and made the best of a rally, till, in closing, both went down. Two to one on Neale.

24.—Hudson fought like a Hudson. For high, if not the highest, courage in the Prize Ring, no boxers stand better than Dav and Josh. But a man cannot have his cake who has eaten it. This was another sharp rally, but terribly to the disadvantage of Hudson, who was nearly finished.

25, and last.—Neale, as the term goes, had “got” David, and by a very severe hit on the latter’s throat, floored him. On Josh picking up his brother he said he should not fight any more—a proper and humane decision. It was over in fifty-three minutes. Josh carried David in his arms out of the ring. A collection to the amount of six pounds was made for Hudson.

Remarks.—It was by no means the smashing fight which had been previously anticipated. If Neale had gone to work, instead of being over-cautious, he must have won it off-hand.

Neale, by his repeated conquests, now became an interesting object to the fancy, and was matched by his friends against the scientific Aby Belasco for £50 a-side.

To render the battle more interesting to the sporting world, the day was fixed by mutual consent for the 7th of January, 1824, to fight in the same ring with Langan and Spring. Both the combatants were in attendance on the ground ready to fight at Worcester; but owing to the lateness of the hour when the championship battle was decided, the fight unavoidably was postponed. This untoward circumstance was a great mortification both to Belasco and Neale.

A short time after this disappointment Ned accepted a challenge from Tom Gaynor, at the Fives Court, at the benefit of Tom Reynolds, for £50 a-side. This battle was decided at Shepperton Range, on Thursday, the 24th of May, 1824.

The ring was soon made, and at one o’clock Gaynor appeared, and attempted to throw his hat into the ring, but the wind prevented its arrival; one of his seconds, Callas, picked it up and threw it into the ropes, Gaynor’s other second being Ben Burn. Neale soon followed, and dropped his castor gently into the ring, under the protection of Josh. Hudson and Harry Holt. The colours were tied to the stakes—dark blue for Neale, and blue mixed with yellow for Tom Gaynor. Two to one on Neale, but numerous bets that the latter did not win in an hour.

Round 1.—Neale was quite up to the mark in point of condition and confidence, and really looked a formidable man. Gaynor was well enough, but by comparison the greatest novice must have taken Neale for choice. Gaynor, who was a carpenter by trade, had been represented as a tremendous hitter, which accounts for the caution observed by Neale. Five minutes passed without a blow being struck, Neale being prepared at all points. Neale made several good stops, and at length put in a rum one on the body of his opponent. (“That’s the way, Ned!”) Feints, offers, retreating, occurred till nine minutes were past, when Neale gave Gaynor a sharp left-hander on the side of his nob. An exchange took place, and in closing, both down, Gaynor undermost.

2.—Gaynor’s left eye was touched a little, and after a number of movements, similar to the first round, Gaynor rushed in and threw Neale.

3.—Twenty minutes had elapsed and no claret seen, so great was the caution on both sides. This round was concluded by Neale putting in two or three clumsy thumps, Gaynor falling forward and Neale upon him.

4–10.—Neale had not a mark about him, but Gaynor had napped punishment, and went down tired.

11.—Gaynor, it was said, went down without a blow; but the umpire was appealed to, when he gave it as his opinion that blows having been struck in the round it was not foul.

12–17.—Neale had got his man to a certainty, and Gaynor was all the worse for the fighting. The nob of the carpenter was damaged, and his upper lip cut through. In one of the above rounds a singular circumstance occurred. The men struggled at the ropes, got through them, and fought a good round outside in the open. One hour and three minutes.

18–21 and last.—Gaynor had not a shadow of chance in any of these rounds, and at the conclusion of the last, in which Gaynor was thrown heavily, Cribb stepped into the middle of the ring and said, “I will give in for Gaynor.”

Remarks.—It is impossible to please all parties—in fact, a man cannot at all times please himself. Many persons called the above battle a bad fight, others said it was not half a good one, while, on the contrary, several excellent judges insisted that Neale had won it “cleverly.” It is true Neale obtained the victory without a scratch, and that alone is saying something for a man, after fighting one hour and ten minutes with a boxer who had been called “a tremendous hitter.” Neale was determined not to give a chance away—he meant winning and nothing else; his backers we are sure will not find fault with him on that account. We never saw the Streatham Youth so cautious before. At all events Neale has won all his battles, and it will take a good man indeed to make him say, “No;” indeed, the Streatham Youth asserts the word “no” is not to be found in his spelling-book.^[49]

Neale had now risen so high in the estimation of the patrons of boxing that he was backed without hesitation by his friends for £100 a-side against Edward Baldwin (White-headed Bob). The battle was fixed for Monday, July 26th, 1824. The bill of fare at Shepperton [three fights] was rather inviting to the fancy, or, as the professionals belonging to another stage phrase it, “a good draw.” There was accordingly an immense attendance of all classes at Shepperton. At the appointed hour Neale was there, and threw his hat into the ring. Baldwin soon after arrived in the carriage of his backer (Mr. Hayne). But, alas! it was but the shadow of the stalwart White-headed Bob of a few months previous. His complexion, as old Caleb Baldwin facetiously remarked, might have earned him the name of “White-faced Bob.” Imprudent indulgence, late hours, loose associates, women, and wine had prostrated him; and his “Pea-green” backer, alighting from his drag, said, “Bob’s health is such he can’t fight with anything like a chance; so, as I don’t want to creep out, or to expose a brave fellow to defeat, I now declare Neale entitled to the stakes as a forfeit.” And thus ended round the first, by the transference of a cool hundred to the pocket of the Streatham Youth, without even holding up his hands.

In a few weeks, the medicos having doctored the White-headed one sound in wind and limb, a new match was made for £100 a-side; the day fixed was the 19th of October, 1824, and a field contiguous to Virginia Water selected as the champ clos. A goodly muster of the Corinthian order, as “the Upper Ten” were then designated, surrounded the lists. Baldwin endeavoured to throw his hat into the ring, but the wind prevented its falling within the ropes. He was seconded by no meaner men than the champions, Tom Cribb and Tom Spring. The castor of Neale arrived at its proper destination, and both men were loudly greeted. Harry Holt and Jem Ward attended upon the Streatham Youth. The colours were tied to the stakes—blue bird’s-eye for Neale, and crimson for Baldwin. Five to four had been previously betted upon Neale; even betting, however, was about the thing—the Streatham Youth for choice.

Round 1.—So eager were the men to begin that they were both in attitude before the umpires were chosen. This deficiency was soon remedied, and both on the look-out for an opening. The frame of Baldwin was muscular and fine: Neale also had a robust appearance. Both shy, cautious, and nothing like work. Feints on both sides, shifts, stops, and no go. “Are you afraid, Bob?” from a voice in the crowd. Baldwin made a good stop with his left. Counter-hitting; a slight shade of the claret appeared on the right side of Neale’s nose. A long pause; both ready, but no opening; at length an exchange of blows took place, Baldwin retreating to the ropes; Neale in the struggle for the throw showed most strength, and the White-headed one was thrown. This round occupied nearly seven minutes.

2.—The ear of Neale looked red; Bob attempted to do “summat,” but missed. Neale planted a clean facer, but he napped one in turn. Both were now busy, but Baldwin was again undermost.

3.—Neale took the lead in this round in gay style; he gave a facer so hard and sharp that Bob’s pimple shook again; indeed, he was upon the stagger from its severity. Ned repeated the dose twice with success; and over Bob’s left eye appeared a cut. Neale ran in to do execution, but Bob put up his left hand, and bobbed his head away to avoid punishment. In the struggle both down, Neale undermost. (A shout for Baldwin.)

4.—This was a gallant round. Baldwin planted a severe hit on the middle of the Streatham lad’s face; the claret ran down in streams. Counter-hits and good work. Neale was thrown.

5.—Bob was now advised to fight first, but he did not take the hint. Caution again the order of the day. (Here Cribb mimicked the attitudes of Harry Holt, who was eloquently advising his man.) Bob retreated, and Neale hit him on the back as he was going down.

6.—Nothing; of no use to either side.

7, 8.—Not effective; Bob was a difficult man to be got at. Both down.

9–12.—Bob napped a rum one on his body which made him twist. In the eleventh cries of “foul” occurred; Neale was in the act of hitting as his opponent was going down. It was not intentional. Bob went down in a close at the last round covered with claret.

13.—The superiority of Neale was evident; he nobbed Bob successfully; and at the ropes the White-nobbed one went down exhausted.

14.—The left peeper of the Streathamite was considerably damaged; and his friends were alarmed lest it should soon be dark. Neale obtained a point towards victory in this round; he threw Baldwin heavily, and fell upon him.

15.—This was a hotly contested round, and both men did their best. Bob proved himself a much better man than Neale had anticipated; giving and taking were prominent, but the round finished in favour of Neale, who threw Bob on his head.

16.—A good rally, but Bob appeared to be at a loss in sharp attacks; out-fighting should have been his game. The faces of the combatants exhibited severe punishment. Both down. Serious faces all round the ring and great doubts who had the best of it. The truth was, at this period of the fight, it was almost anybody’s battle, though Neale hit swiftest and straightest.

17, 18, 19, 20, 21.—All these rounds were fought manfully; and Neale satisfied all his backers that he was nothing else but a game man. He was severely punished, but his courage was so high that he never flinched. The friends of Bob still thought he might win it. The Streatham Youth gave Bob such a severe cross-buttock that the latter showed visible symptoms of bellows to mend; yet a tolerably good judge cried out, “Bob will win this battle!”

22.—Six to four was offered freely at the conclusion of this round. The nob of Bob was at the service of his opponent, and in getting him down Neale rolled over his man.

23.—Severe counter-hitting, Neale undermost in the fall. The Streatham lad appeared rather weak, yet his eye was full of fire.

24.—“It is a capital fight,” was the general cry; and the hard hitting and gaiety displayed by Neale gave his friends confidence that he would last too long for Bob. Neale went down on his opponent.

25.—This was a severe round, and considerable execution was done on both sides. More than an hour had elapsed, yet bettors were shy as to the event. Neale went down rather exhausted.

26.—Spring whispered to Baldwin to fight first—to lead off with his left hand, and it would be “all right.” Bob tried it, but Neale got away, hit him in retreating; in closing Bob was thrown.

27.—Counter-hits effective, but nothing to anybody but the combatants; “lookers on” will find fault at times. Neale slipped down by the force of his blow, which missed the object intended.

28.—In this round Bob seemed to be recovering his wind a little, and endeavoured to take the lead. A rally; but Bob did not appear to advantage in close fighting. Neale down, and Bob with him.

29.—The right hand of the Streatham Youth felt for the face of his antagonist three times in succession. Bob went down weak.

30.—Neale napped a smart one on his nose, which produced the claret; he was anxious to return the compliment, and in attacking Bob, the latter attempted to retreat, but fell.

31.—Ward, who was the bottle-holder, thought it prudent to give Neale a small taste of brandy, which had the desired effect. This was a milling round on both sides, until both measured their lengths upon the turf.

32.—Neale put in a sharp body blow, which almost doubled up poor Bob. The latter, at times, appeared a little abroad, and Neale took advantage of every opening that offered itself. The Streathamite had the worst of the throw, and Bob fell upon him.

33.—Neale now proved himself to be the more effective boxer; he hit and followed Bob till he went down at the ropes. Neale could not stop himself in the act of delivering, and cries of “foul” were repeated.

34.—Bob was getting very weak, and went down from a slight hit.

35.—The story was nearly told; without an accident, it was almost a certainty Bob must lose it. The latter fell on his face.

36.—Neale planted three successive facers, and by way of a climax, threw White-headed Bob. Three to one.

37.—Baldwin was so weak that he almost laid down. “Take him away!”

38.—Short but sweet to Neale; the stakes nearly in his hands; he hit Baldwin down cleverly.

39.—It was almost useless to show at the scratch, but Baldwin did not like to resign the contest. Bob down.

40, and last.—Bob was no sooner up than he was down. Cribb said he should not fight any more. Neale jumped several times off the ground, so much was he elated by his conquest. It was over in one hour and thirteen minutes.

Remarks.—Some would-be critics declared that Neale did not fight well; we think he won the battle with great credit to himself. He has clearly manifested to the sporting world that he possesses two good points towards victory—Neale can take as well as give. It should be remembered Neale had not yet numbered twenty years, yet he had attained, step by step, the high situation he held upon the milling list. Bob asserts he was not well. He might have been ill, but still he might have made use of his left with more effect, and not bobbed his head back so often. At all events, it was a capital mill.

Neale, gaining higher ground in the fancy, was matched against Jem Burn, for £200 a-side. On Tuesday, December 19th, 1824, this battle was decided at Moulsey Hurst. Neale was decidedly the favourite.

At one o’clock Jem Burn, attended by his uncle Ben, and Tom Oliver, threw his hat into the ring; and almost at the same instant Neale, waited upon by Harry Holt and Sam Tibbutt, repeated the token of defiance. The colours, blue for Neale and a dark grey for Burn, were tied to the stakes; hands were shaken in token of friendship, and the fight commenced.

Round 1.—Jem, on peeling, obtained the approbation of all the spectators, and “He is a fine young man,” was the general opinion round the ring. Neale was cool and steady, and seemed quite aware of the height and length of his opponent. Jem, in a hurry, went to work, and with his right hand touched an old place, damaged in the fight with White-headed Bob. Neale got away from two or three more attempts of Jem; but the young one, at length, succeeded in planting another sharp blow over Neale’s eye, which produced the claret. (“First blood!” exclaimed Uncle Ben.) Neale still on the defensive, till they got close together at the ropes, when Ned put in one or two good ones. In closing, Neale got his man down, and fell upon him.

2.—Burn, full of spirit, made play on witnessing the claret trickling from the forehead of his opponent, and obscuring his eye. (“Go it, Jem! it’s all right!”) The length of Burn enabled him to plant a facer; but Neale returned sharply. This round also finished by Burn being undermost in the fall.

3.—Jem showed himself more troublesome than Neale expected, but it was evident he wanted stamina. Small symptoms of piping betrayed themselves; Burn had been getting on beyond his strength. Neale planted two sharp hits with his right; some good fighting took place, and Burn, by his stops, convinced the spectators he was not destitute of science. Counter-hitting; but the blows of Burn, from his length, were the most effective, and the claret flowed freely from Neale’s damaged peeper. A rally, when they separated. A pause; a little wind necessary for Jem. In closing, Uncle Ben’s “nevvy” met with a heavy fall.

4.—The Streatham Youth cleared away the blood from his eye. This round was decidedly in favour of Burn; and, after an exchange of blows, Neale was knocked clean down by a blow on his chest. This event decided two bets in favour of Burn—first blood and first knock-down blow. (“We shall win it, for a thoosand!” cried Uncle Ben. Loud shouting for the young ’un, and his friends, quite nutty upon him, took the odds.)

5.—In point of punishment, the appearance of Neale was the worse, but his confidence never forsook him, and he stood firm as a rock. The men closed, but after an attempt at fibbing, separated. The right hand of Neale did a little now and then, and Burn did not make such good use of his left as he might have done. Burn again lost the throw, and Neale went down heavily on him.

6.—In this round Neale gave his opponent pepper, met him right and left, and threw him at the ropes. (“Well done, Ned!”)

7.—Jem showed weakness, when the Streatham Youth drove him to the ropes, and in closing, Jem, with great activity, planted a facer; but Neale laid hold of his adversary so tightly as to throw him over the ropes.

8.—This round was “a chalk” for Neale; he took the lead, kept it, and milled his opponent down. (“That’s the way, Ned—never leave him!” Two to one on Neale.)

9.—Burn commenced the rounds in general well, but Neale finished them. Jem again thrown.

10.—Jem got away well, but Neale was after him, and planted a body blow with his right hand that nearly made an S of Burn; his game, however, was so good that he shook it off. Neale met with a stopper on his head, but nevertheless he threw Jem.

11.—The weakness of Jem could not be disguised, and he hit short. Neale began a rally, and Jem was determined not to be behindhand with him. In closing, Neale, with the utmost ease, gave his opponent a complete cross-buttock.

12.—Nothing; Burn slipped down.

13.—Jem got away from several blows, and Neale did not do so much execution as heretofore—in fact, the length of Burn rendered him extremely difficult to be got at. In closing, Neale slipped on his hands, but napped it on his ribs.

14.—Nothing the matter, and Jack as good as his master. Burn was thrown.

15.—If the fight had not been taken out of Burn, it was clear to the unbiassed spectators that he wanted stamina. Jem put up his hands to defend himself, but he did not show any disposition to go to work. Neale waited for him, when he went to mill, and poor Jem was not only fibbed, but Neale fell upon him so hard as almost to force the breath out of his body. (“It’s all your own, Ned!”)—three to one on the Streatham Youth, by some desperate bettors.

16.—The fight was nearly over in this round, and if Jem had not proved himself a game man, it would have been to a certainty. A sharp rally took place, when Neale put in a slogger with his right on Jem’s nob, that dropped him like a shot. (“He will not come again!—Take him away!—He’s done for, poor fellow!”) However, a little brandy revived him, and, when time was called, Jem appeared at the scratch.

17.—This was short, and to add to the distress of Burn, Neale fell upon him.

18.—Burn was down almost as soon as he appeared at the mark.

19.—After some futile attempts on the part of Burn to stop his opponent, he was hit down.

20.—“It will soon be over,” said the friends of Neale. “Not for three hours,” answered Uncle Ben. Jem was again sent down.

21.—Burn napped a facer, and was soon down, owing to weakness.

22.—Jem a little better; he appeared to be getting second wind, to the great joy of his backers; he also made play, and planted a couple of hits; but at the end of the round the finishing was on the side of Neale, who got Jem down.

23.—This was a singular round. Neale bored his opponent to the ropes; and in closing Jem struggled himself out of the ring. Burn showed fight outside, but as Neale could not reach him, he returned to the scratch, and sat himself down on his second’s knee. Burn then entered the ropes, and followed his example, and so the round ended.

24–26.—In the last round, Jem dropped weak.

27.—The battle might now be said to be at an end; the event was almost reduced to a certainty. Fighting, as to execution, was out of the question on the side of Burn, and Neale was determined not to give the slightest chance away. Burn went down.

28.—Jem now bobbed his head aside to avoid the coming blow, and was hit down distressed.

29.—A severe cross-buttock nearly shook out the little wind left in Jem’s body.

30.—After a trifling exchange of blows Jem went down.

31–54.—It would be a waste of time to detail these rounds; suffice it to say that Burn fought like a brave man in all of them, and never resigned the contest till Nature completely deserted him. We repeat he is a brave young man, and ought to have been taken away half an hour before the battle was over, which occupied one hour and thirty-eight minutes.

Remarks.—Neale was opposed to superior length, height, and an active, aspiring young man, and moreover was in nothing like such good condition as when he fought White-headed Bob; his hands also went a little, and he had too much flesh upon his frame; yet he never had the slightest chance of losing; his firmness never forsook him, and he always kept the lead. He left off nearly as strong as when he commenced. Neale is not a showy fighter, but the truth is, winning eight battles speaks a volume as to his milling character; and any boxer who enters the P. R. with Ned will find a good deal of work cut out before he says “No.” Ned is an honest man, and deserving of support; he is a civil, quiet, inoffensive fellow, which entitles him to the attention of the fancy, and a great enemy to “Lushington,” which renders the Streatham Youth a safe man at all times to back. Jem was put to bed at the “Red Lion,” Hampton, and Neale started for London at the conclusion of the battle.

By the advice of his friends, Neale inserted the following letters in the sporting journals as to his future conduct in the P. R.:—