“Sir,—On my return from Melton Mowbray I was sorry to find my character had been assailed by a Leicester paper, in which my conduct has been entirely misrepresented. I refer to the account of a dispute which took place between two respectable coach proprietors, who, I hope, have settled their differences amicably. It is stated I took an active part in the ‘disturbance.’ Now, sir, the truth is that I was merely a passive spectator of the quarrel, and never interfered by word or act—in fact, I was equally a friend to both parties. Like others, I laughed, but knew my situation too well to interfere. I knew that I was backed against Ned Neale, and that by joining in such a dispute I should be ‘throwing a chance away’—conduct of which even my enemies would scarcely accuse me. For being present, however, I was taken before a magistrate, and held to bail till the sessions, which will be held at the beginning of April; but even this fact did not justify the false statement to my prejudice made in the Leicester Herald. However, as my recognisances only stand good till the sessions, I shall continue to make my deposits with Ned Neale good; and I have too much reliance on his honourable feeling not to believe, even if I am obliged to put our meeting off for a month, that he will willingly grant me that time. He has said that he means fighting, and so do I; and as the articles express that the stakes shall remain till we have fairly decided who is the best man, upon that understanding I mean to act. I shall attend with my backers at Tom Cribb’s, on Tuesday next, with the needful, and hope to meet my antagonist on friendly terms. With regard to the worthy magistrate who held me to bail, I have no doubt he felt he was justified; but when my trial takes place, I shall be able to prove my entire innocence of any illegal act whatever. By my profession, if fighting a few battles can be so called, I have been taught to love ‘fair play.’ I know enough of the sporting gentlemen of Leicestershire to believe that they are equal admirers of that truly British characteristic; and I rest perfectly satisfied that I shall not be sacrificed to any unjust prejudice which may have been excited against me from my being a member of the P. R.

On Tuesday evening, the 5th of February, the time appointed for making the fifth deposit, the “Union Arms,” in Panton Street, was overflowing at an early hour. Neale and Baldwin were both present, and on “time” being called, both said their money was ready. Baldwin, alluding to the late unfortunate affair at Leicester, although perfectly innocent of any act of disorder whatever, said he had been held to bail to appear at the sessions, and also during the intervening period to keep the peace towards all His Majesty’s subjects. This was an event which he had not foreseen, and he hoped Neale would liberally assent to the match being postponed for such a time as would allow him to appear at the sessions, when he should be enabled to show that he had been the victim of prejudice. Neale had said he meant fighting; so did he, and he hoped the stakes would be permitted to remain till the event came fairly off.

Neale said he was willing to give his antagonist every indulgence, and to meet his wishes to the fullest extent.

The articles were then altered according to the new arrangement, the men to fight for an even £250 a-side, and the match fixed for the 22nd of April. If Baldwin should be bound in recognisances at that time, he would pay Neale’s expenses to go to France; and if imprisoned, he would agree to forfeit £200 of the stakes down. With this all parties were satisfied, and Baldwin was applauded for the spirit he had displayed.

On Tuesday evening, March 4th, 1828, a meeting was held at Harry Holt’s for the purpose of making good the last deposit towards the £250 a-side. Neale’s money was ready, but Baldwin had been disappointed in the expected arrival of a friend, who was to have posted a portion of the needful on his behalf. Neale said that he would not claim the forfeit. The word of a gentleman being therefore given that the required sum should be placed in the hands of the stakeholder in the course of a week, it was considered as understood that the whole of the money was made good. Another alteration was then made in the time of fighting. Baldwin remarked that the 22nd of April (the day then fixed) was in the week appointed for the Newmarket meeting, and this might prevent many of the turf men from being present. Baldwin therefore proposed an adjournment of the fight for a week. Neale said a week would make no difference to him; but if he acceded to Baldwin’s wishes, he ought to have the right to name the place of meeting. To this Baldwin at once agreed, and it was therefore arranged that the fight should stand over to the 29th of April, and that Neale should have the right to say “where.” Ill luck, however, pursued the fixture; and on Thursday, April 29th, 1828, many hundreds left London, and returned, few of them until the next day, after a weary journey to Liphook, in Hampshire, thence to Guildford and Godalming, to find that warrants against Neale and Baldwin were out in Surrey, Sussex, and Hampshire. A move into Berks was decided on, and Bagshot made the rendezvous. Here, at Hatchard’s Lane, in the parish of Wingfield, the ring was pitched, and shortly after Neale arrived in the carriage of his patron, Mr. Sant. Ned quietly alighted, and threw his hat into the ring, attended by his seconds, Josh. Hudson and Harry Holt. Bob was equally on the alert, and repeated the token of defiance, followed by Peter Crawley and Dick Curtis. Bob won the toss, when the colours were tied to the stakes, a bright purple for Baldwin and a dark blue bird’s-eye for the Streatham Youth. The betting was seven to four on Neale. At half-past one o’clock the fight commenced:—

Round 1.—The condition of Neale appeared good on stripping, but a few of his friends thought he was rather too fat, and blotches on his body were, as usual, prominent; Bob was also well, but he looked pale. Ned was confident, and after a little manœuvring for the first advantage, Bob hit out with his right, but Ned was leary, and it fell short; Bob then commenced the bustling system, when a few blows were exchanged. In closing Bob napped one on his cheek as he was going down. Neale fell on him. “Well done, Neale!”

2.—Bob, still on the bustle, hurried to his work, but again hit out of distance and fell on his hands. Ned missed a heavy upper-cut with the right, that might otherwise have done mischief.

3.—Both hit short. Baldwin missed in a second attempt; but Ned planted a nobber, then went to work in right earnest, and not only put in a teaser on the side of Bob’s head, but closed and gave the white-headed one a cross-buttock.

4.—Bob planted a slight facer, but received a severe return. In closing, Ned fibbed his opponent, and then threw him like a first-rate wrestler.

5.—On Neale’s coming to the scratch, Curtis claimed “first blood” from Ned’s nose, but the umpires could not perceive it. This was a short round, facers on both sides, the White-headed one again thrown.

6.—Ned planted two severe facers; Baldwin, in return, hit out wildly, and lost his distance. Neale repeated the dose on the left ear of Bob, which produced the claret, and the event of first blood was decided in favour of Neale. In closing Baldwin got down skilfully to prevent being thrown.

7.—The right hand of Neale again told, but in struggling for the fall Ned was undermost. “Bravo, Bob!”

8.—Nothing. Both men hit out of distance, when Bob ran in wildly after his adversary, missed him, and fell.

9.—Bob fond of bustling, but in rushing in he napped a snorter, the claret following the blow. In going down Neale was successful in planting two hits.

10.—This round looked like fighting; both men were on their mettle, and anxious to do mischief. Ned’s right hand told—ditto, ditto, and ditto; yet Bob was not idle, and returned well; nevertheless, Baldwin was hit down. (“It’s as right as the day,” said the John Bull Fighter; “Ned’s turned auctioneer; he knocked down the last lot cleverly, and Mr. Baldwin bought it.”)

11.—The right hand of Bob would have been mischievous if he could have timed his blows; but he appeared so much in a hurry that they fell short. Baldwin put in a heavy body blow, but was thrown.

12.—Ned took the lead, and nobbed his adversary; Bob, endeavouring to return, missed. In closing, Baldwin slipped on his knees. Ned threw up his hands and walked away, amidst thunders of applause.

13.—Neale again had it all his own way; he threw Baldwin. Four to one and no takers, so satisfied were the spectators that Neale would prove the conqueror.

14.—Baldwin’s left hand told on Neale’s cheek, but the latter countered with effect. Bob received another severe cross-buttock.

15.—Bob could not change a single round in his favour, hitting wildly, and quite out of distance. He received a heavy blow on the nose. In closing Bob was thrown on the ropes.

16.—Bob did not heed scientific movements; he endeavoured to overwhelm Neale by bustling in helter-skelter, missed his aim, and fell.

17.—Of no importance. Bob piping. Ned planted his right hand. In closing, both down.

18.—A straight facer, and ditto by Neale, Bob returning as wild as a novice. Baldwin thrown.

19.—Bob had a small turn in this round. He planted a heavy hit on the left peeper of Neale, and another blow, which produced the claret on Neale’s cheek. In going down Neale was undermost. (“That’s the way to win,” said Dick Curtis; “wait for him and make your right tell.”)

20.—Both milling, counter-hits. Bob tried the bustling system again, and bored Neale down. (“Well done, Bob!”)

21.—Bob stopped Ned’s left hand cleverly, and gave Neale a teaser on his left eye. In struggling for the throw, both went down.

22.—This was a milling round. Bob seemed steadier, and returned hit for hit; but Neale planted a tremendous blow on his opponent’s left eye, and threw him cleverly.

23.—Ned got out of mischief like an able tactician. He, however, soon returned to the charge, and with his right floored the White-headed one. This was the first knock-down blow.

24.—Bob came to the scratch rather abroad; he ran in wildly, slipped, caught hold of Ned, and fell on his knees. Neale again walked away, receiving lots of applause for his forbearance. In fact, he actually helped him up, which kindness Baldwin returned by a shake of the hand.

25.—Bob, full of pluck, fought his way into a spirited rally, and give and take was the feature for a short period, until Ned finished the round by giving Bob a severe cross-buttock.

26.—Bob commenced fighting as wild as ever. Ned endeavoured to stop his rush, when Bob slipped down with his hands up. Neale, though in the act of hitting, restrained himself, to prevent anything foul.

27.—Ned planted his right and left with success, Bob hitting out of all distance, as heretofore. In closing both down.

28.—Baldwin retreated to the ropes, followed by Ned. In closing at the ropes Neale tried fibbing, and also threw Bob.

29.—Had Baldwin steadied himself, and measured his distance, he could not have thrown so many right-handed hits away. Ned planted some slight taps, when both went down.

30.—The blows of Ned did not appear to do so much execution as heretofore; his friends thought he hit with his left hand open; Baldwin was met in his rush by a flush hit on his nob. In closing, Ned went down.

31.—Baldwin, by a sort of scrambling hit, felt for the left peeper of Neale, but the latter made good his right and left. In closing, both down.

32.—Neale again triumphant. He went up, sans cérémonie, to Baldwin’s nob, and floored him. (A tremendous shout of applause from all parts of the ring.)

33.—Decidedly in favour of Neale; the right hand of the latter told with severity on Baldwin’s already damaged listener; another desperate cross-buttock closed the round against Baldwin.

34.—The game exhibited by Bob was loudly praised; both men were fighting at points in this round. The advantage, however, was on the side of Neale, and Bob was ultimately thrown out of the ropes.

35.—Counter-hits. In closing, both went down; Neale struck his nob rather in an awkward manner.

36.—In spite of all the advice given by Dick Curtis to Bob he would still rush forward to attack his adversary. Ned, like a skilful general, got out of the way of danger, rendering the attempts of Baldwin abortive. Bob was thrown.

37.—The rounds now were short. Ned hit right and left, but not severely. Both down.

38.—Neale took the lead, and planted several hits; both again went down.

39.—Baldwin almost ran in to punish his adversary, which Neale perceiving stepped aside nimbly, and Bob fell.

40.—Up to this period of the battle Neale was the favourite. The latter got away from Bob’s fury, and in closing Baldwin was thrown.

41.—Bob got a small turn in his favour in this round. It is true he was the most punished, but he did not appear reduced much in strength. Bob again missed with his right; but in closing he made a desperate effort, and threw Neale a severe cross-buttock. (The friends of Bob gave him thunders of applause, and the disinterested spectators were not backward in crying out, “Bravo!”)

42.—Both men countered well; and after a long struggle, in closing, both down.

43.—(“Hit with your right hand,” said Dick, “and the battle must be your own. Don’t run at your man like a mad bull.”) But all advice was thrown away—Bob acted as heretofore, when Ned got neatly out of trouble. Baldwin received a heavy right-hander on the side of his head, which he endeavoured to return with his left; in so doing he fell on his knees, but instantly jumped up to renew the fight, when Ned obtained the throw.

44.—Ned made play with his right hand, but Bob was again on the bustle, and in struggling for the throw got Neale down.

45.—This was a short but busy round. Both on the alert—counter-hits—a rally, and in closing for the fall, Ned was thrown.

46.—Ned, as if determined to finish off his man, went to fight, sans cérémonie. He caught Baldwin on the right side of his nob, threw him a heavy cross-buttock, and fell over him.

47.—Neale’s right and left told; Bob bored in, caught hold of his adversary, and fell on his knees. Ned, instead of punishing him, patted Baldwin on the back, and once more walked to the knee of his second, amidst uproarious applause.

48.—Neale took the lead right and left. Bob, wild at such treatment, closed, and got Neale down.

49.—A fighting round; capital counter-hits. Bob received so severe a facer that he went down like a spinning-top.

50.—The game displayed by Baldwin was the admiration of the spectators; his mug was punished, and his eyebrow badly damaged. Ned took the lead; and Bob, anxious to return, fell in the attempt.

51.—Bob was piping, and rather abroad; nevertheless his right hand was always dangerous; he was again unlucky in his distance. Ned planted his right hand, and Bob found his way to grass.

52.—Bob without delay fought into a rally, when Ned got out of trouble by turning round, but immediately resumed milling. In closing, Bob obtained the throw, and Neale came heavily down on his neck.

53.—Bob was no sooner at the scratch than he rushed in without any system, and succeeded in getting Neale down.

54.—The execution of Neale was not so severe as in the early part of the battle; and his left hand was open. In closing, Baldwin obtained the fall.

55.—Each trying for the best; stopping and hitting until both down.

56.—Neale appeared angry, and did not deliver his blows so steadily as heretofore. In closing, Baldwin found himself on the turf.

57.—The left hand of Neale was a little puffed, but he planted his right severely. Both down.

58.—Bob now stood higher in the opinions of the spectators; his strength was not so much reduced as might have been expected; but high odds were still offered on Neale. In closing, both down, and both weak.

59.—Baldwin certainly appeared better, and did not pipe so much as he had done in several of the preceding rounds. Neale went to work right and left, Bob endeavouring to be with him, but Ned obtained the throw.

60.—Bob left all system out of the case, and hit in all directions. Exchanges, when Bob, in closing, almost pinned Ned to the ground by superior strength.

61.—Counter-hits, Baldwin soon down.

62.—The right of Neale told: but with his left he could not do any execution. Bob went down from a slight hit.

63.—Baldwin crept into favour with the spectators this round, by the game he displayed, and his determined mode of fighting. Ned made play, but Bob was with him; and some smart exchanges took place. In closing, after a severe struggle, Bob got his opponent down.

64.—Bob, revived by a nip of eau-de-vie, planted his right well; but Ned countered, and mischief was done on both sides. Bob pushed on his luck, and boring in, laid hold of Neale by the neck, and in a severe struggle for the fall the Streatham hero received a dangerous twist, and fell in a singular manner. Ned was quite abroad for a few seconds. Dick Curtis exclaimed, “We have won it!” The anxiety of the spectators was intense; but Ned revived, and was ready at the scratch when time was called.

65.—Neale was distressed by the late fall, but he began his work well. Some sharp counter-hits. In closing, Bob again tried for the throw, but he was not so successful. Neale punished Baldwin as he was going down.

66.—The White-headed One was kept on the alert by his admirable little second, Curtis, and slashed away like a good one. Had his distances been anything like correct at this juncture, he had yet a chance of winning. In closing, Neale was again thrown, and he told Harry Holt “to take care of his neck” as he was picking him up.

67.—Baldwin was quite alive to the position, and neglected no opportunity to turn it to account. He again kept Neale on the bustle, caught the latter round the tender place on his neck, and obtained the throw. (“Bravo, Bob! you’ll win it now, if you mind what you are at!”)

68.—Neale still distressed; Bob to all appearance the stronger man. The White-headed Blade now thought the bustling mode to be successful, and tried it on at once. Neale fearlessly met him. In closing, Baldwin squeezed his opponent, got him down, and fell on him. (“Why, Bobby,” said Curtis, “you have found out the way at last. You are doing the trick.”)

69.—Neale commenced milling. In closing, Bob’s strength enabled him again to get the fall. At this moment a great bustle was heard on one side of the ring, and a cry of, “The beak! the beak!” An elderly, pale-faced gentleman in black was observed making his way for the ring. He proclaimed himself a magistrate, and called upon all parties to desist. The smooth-tongued blades of the Fancy tried all their eloquence to appease the wrath of the beak, by stating to him what a pity it would be, at such an interesting period, to put a stop to the event, which, as a matter of course, an hour having elapsed, would end of itself in the course of a few minutes.

70.—During the argument time was called, and the men appeared at the scratch. Neale was ready, and Bob equally so—no flinching, until Baldwin was floored.

71.—Neale rallied himself, and went to work with considerable spirit; Baldwin attacked his adversary wildly. Both down.

72.—The beak endeavoured to break through the crowd to get at the combatants, but he could not. Hitting away on both sides, but Neale now and then jobbing the nob of his adversary. In closing, both down.

73.—(“Now’s the time,” said the Pet to Bob; “go to work, hit steady with your right hand, and you can’t lose it.” “What nonsense!” replied Hudson; “how can you mislead the poor fellow so!”) Both on their mettle, and several blows were exchanged. In closing, Baldwin obtained the throw.

74.—The rounds were now very short. Baldwin bustling, while Neale was endeavouring to catch him as he was coming in. Both down, Neale undermost.

75.—Exerting themselves like brave men, regardless of danger, until both of them fell out of the ropes.

76.—Neale successively planted three jobbing hits; nevertheless, Bob returned to the attack undismayed. In closing, Baldwin pulled down his adversary.

77.—Counter-hits, and a good round altogether, until both went down, Baldwin uppermost.

78.—The fight had materially changed. Bob, who, in the early part of the battle, in the opinion of nearly all the spectators, had no chance of success, was viewed with a different eye. Neale’s left hand was of little use to him. Both down.

79.—Neale took the lead, and planted his right and left. Baldwin fell on his knees.

80.—Counter-hits, but not heavy enough to put a finish to the battle. In closing, both down, Neale undermost.

81.—(The disinterested part of the ring—those persons who had not a copper on the event seemed to think that it was anybody’s battle.) Neale, always ready, went to work; Bob, on the bustle, endeavoured to be with him. In closing, both down, Neale undermost.

82.—Neale hit with his left hand half open, then planted a facer with his right. Baldwin, still wild, but determined, endeavoured to return. His distance as heretofore proved incorrect. He rushed into a close, when both fell.

83.—Neale had not lost his gaiety, and tried to administer punishment. In closing, the struggle was desperate for the throw; after a severe encounter, Bob was uppermost. Both men much distressed.

84, and last.—Baldwin at the scratch, and Neale also ready to the call of “time.” Both combatants went to work without hesitation. Some sharp hits were exchanged, when both men went down in the corner of the ring, close to the magistrate. One hour and a quarter had elapsed.

His worship now waxed angry at the want of attention paid to his authority, exclaiming, in a peremptory tone of voice, “I’ll endure this no longer!” Laying hold of the arm of Josh Hudson, he told Harry Holt of the consequences which must result to the whole of them, if they did not put an end to the battle. Hudson, obedient to the law, resigned his situation as second, when an amateur rushed into the ring and gave his knee to Neale. The magistrate then spoke to Neale and Baldwin, and observed that he had been sent for by a gentleman in the neighbourhood, to interfere and put a stop to the fight: that he entertained no hostility against any person present, and if they immediately quitted the ring peaceably, he should take no further notice of what had occurred. “If the battle is continued,” said he, raising his voice, “the combatants, seconds, and every individual present aiding and assisting must take the consequences.” The magistrate, however, good-naturedly acknowledged that he had met with more civility and attention than he could have expected from such a multitude. His worship then retired from the scene of action, amidst loud cheers from the spectators.

Further opposition was voted imprudent, and hostilities ceased. Bob and Ned shook hands together, left the ring, and walked to their vehicles. The reporter asked Baldwin how he felt, when he emphatically replied, “What should be the matter with me?” It was thought advisable by the friends of both parties that the combatants should return to Bagshot, and be put to bed.

It was not to be supposed that the question of superiority would remain thus undecided between two such courageous and well-matched men; so, after some little debate upon the “draw,” consequent on magisterial interference, they agreed to add £50 a-side to the stakes, and to meet once more—the time the 28th of May, 1828, the place No Man’s Land, in Hertfordshire. How gallantly Neale fell, after a desperate battle of sixty-six rounds in seventy-one minutes, may be read in Chapter VII. of this volume.

Neale’s friends and admirers did not desert him in defeat. At Neale’s benefit at the Tennis Court, on the 21st of July, 1828, at which Tom Spring, Peter Crawley, Holt, Curtis, and the leading men appeared, a silver cup of the value of 100 guineas was presented by Pierce Egan as a testimonial of his “bravery, honour, and incorruptible integrity.” This trophy for many years formed one of the treasures of the “Rose and Crown.”

Reuben Marten now proposed to back John Nicholls for £100 a-side against Neale, and the cartel being accepted, the match was made off-hand, at Marten’s house, the “City of London,” Berwick Street, Soho. The deposits were duly made until £60 was down, when Nicholls’s backers were absent, but Neale waived the forfeit, and generously agreed to take £25 when the fight should come off; £50 being promised by a gentleman, a backer of Nicholls, for the fight to take place on his estate. We note this, as on another occasion, with Baldwin, Neale waived his claim to forfeit when £170 was down.

The day was fixed for the 23rd September, 1828, the place Fisher Street, in Sussex. Nicholls—a fine, powerful young man, whose recent victory over Dick Acton, a pugilist thought good enough to be matched against Jem Ward and Peter Crawley, had raised him by a jump to the pinnacle of fame—had good friends. The sporting men of London, however, did not believe in a comparative novice being pitted against the victor of a dozen battles, and seven to four was laid at the “Castle,” “Queen’s Head,” and “King’s Arms,” on the Streatham champion.

On Tuesday morning Guildford, Godalming, and the villages near the scene of action were all alive, the amateurs having left London overnight. An immense cavalcade was soon on the move towards Fisher Street, where, at the Royal Cylinder Works, the property of Mr. Stovell, preparations had been made from an early hour. Banners were displayed, two military bands, and six small pieces of cannon in a turf battery were discharged occasionally, and a general rustic merry-making, more like a fair than the preliminaries of a fight, was going on. Tables and forms, with eatables and drinkables, were provided gratuitously for certain visitors within the houses and factory of Mr. Stovell. In an enclosed piece of ground a twenty-four feet ring of turf, laid and levelled, was roped in, with seats for the umpires and referee. At a distance of twelve feet a roped circle kept back the spectators, while round all was a double line of wagons, the inner ones sunk in the ground by holes dug as deep as their axletrees, the outer line being on the level of the field. The ground was kept by 150 stout countrymen with staves, in white smocks, with blue ribands in their hats, marshalled by the indefatigable Mr. Stovell.

At eleven o’clock a curious procession approached. Reuben Marten and Nicholls, in a light two-wheeler, followed by some friends, were succeeded by Neale in a barouche, in which were seated Tom Spring and Harry Holt, the “ribands” handled by Will Scarlett, the renowned “dragsman.” The men were accommodated with separate apartments in Mr. Stovell’s house till the hour of battle arrived.

At ten minutes past one Nicholls dropped his hat within the ropes, and Neale immediately followed his example. Neale was attended by Tom Spring and Harry Holt, Nicholls by Jem Ward and Reuben Marten. Nicholls won the toss for corners, and both men sported true blue for their colours.

Round 1.—Nicholls justified the report of his superior personal requisites. He stood nearly two inches over Neale, and his weight, thirteen stone four pounds, was well and evenly distributed. He was indeed the model of an athlete. Neale, whose weight was twelve stone four pounds, looked hard, brown, and muscular, and well capable of a long day’s work. Great caution on both sides. The men stepped round and round each other, making feints, for full five minutes—the seconds of Nicholls advising him to use caution and let his man “come to him,” which Neale did not seem inclined to do. At last Nicholls sent out his right at Neale’s throat. It was short, for Neale jumped away. More tedious sparring and manœuvring, until both men seemed weary of holding up their hands, the young one most so. Neale, seeing a favourable opening, sprang forward, delivering a straight right-hander on his adversary’s collar-bone. It was intended doubtless for the side of his head, but fell lower from the superior height of his opponent. It was a terrific blow, and sounded like the crack of a pistol-shot, leaving a broad red mark, that soon after swelled, as a token of its force. A rally followed, in which Neale planted a heavy body blow with the right, and his left on Nicholls’s mouth, who returned on Neale’s head. Neale finished the round prettily by getting hold of his huge adversary and throwing him neatly from the hip. Immense applause from the Londoners.

2 to 12.—All similar in character. Neale drew his man and punished him for coming in, Neale now and then getting down to end the round.

13.—Nicholls, finding himself out-manœuvred, rushed in ding-dong. Neale met him coolly, and actually sent him off his legs. (“It’s all U P,” cried Ned Stockman. “Who’ll take two to one?”)

14 to 17.—In every round Neale made his right and left tell with effect, getting away or stopping the return, until poor Nicholls was a pitiful spectacle. In the sixteenth and seventeenth rounds Neale sent Nicholls down with a straight left-hander. Cries of “Take him away.”

18, and last.—Nicholls tried to get in at his man, but was literally hit out right and left. Neale closed and threw his man heavily. Jem Ward stepped forward and said his man should fight no more, and Neale, stepping up to the umpires and referee, was told he was the conqueror.

Remarks.—This one-sided affair hardly calls for comment. It merely adds one more instance to the innumerable proofs that mere strength and courage are more than balanced by the skill, readiness, and precision of the practised master of the science of defence.

Roche, a publican of Exeter, whose provincial reputation as a wrestler was higher than his boxing capabilities, was matched by his overweening friends against Neale. The preliminaries duly arranged; the stakes, £100 a-side, made good; and the day fixed for the 2nd December, 1828; the men met on the North Chapel Cricket Ground, Sussex, forty-four miles from London by road. Neale trained at Milford, in Surrey, and there, it afterwards came out, he was “interviewed,” as modern reporters would style it, by an envoy from Roche’s party, who offered to secure to him £500 to lose the fight, and a further sum of two hundred if he would give in under fifty minutes. All this Neale communicated to his backers; and so well was the secret kept that a double defeat awaited the “Knights of the x,” in the disgrace of their champion and the depletion of their pockets. Had the countermine been discovered, the defeated Devonian declared, “all the King’s horses” should not have drawn him into the ring. In order yet further to keep up the “fool’s paradise” into which these bucolic knaves delivered themselves, the emissary presented Neale with a new suit of clothes and £18 “earnest money,” keeping £2 for commission; and on the very morning of the battle he added £8 out of £10 entrusted to him for the same nefarious purpose. The “cross coves,” assured that all was right, freely backed their man, and were not aware of the mine until it burst beneath their feet, scattering to the wind their hopes and calculations. Roche, who had come up to London, finished his training at the renowned Johnny Gilpin’s house, the “Bell,” at Edmonton, then a charming rural retreat, with its flower and tea gardens; now a well-accustomed modern ginshop, resplendent in gilding, gas, and plate glass, and belted in with brick, mortar, and shops.

Roche, who reached Godalming overnight, set out a little before twelve in a barouche; while Neale, in a four-horse drag, started from Milford, and soon overtook him on the road. Tom Spring, the “Portsmouth Dragsman,” Harry Holt, and other friends, were on the roof of Neale’s coach, and were first on the ground. Roche soon after alighted, under the care of Ben Burn and young Dutch Sam, who were engaged as his seconds. His colours were a light blue, Neale’s a dark blue bird’s-eye. The toss for corners was won by Harry Holt for Neale, who was also waited on by Tom Spring. As the men stood up, the contrast was striking. Roche, who stood nearly six feet, weighed, it was reported, fourteen stone. His advantages in weight and length, however, were fully counterbalanced by his apparent age and staleness. His superfluous meat hung in collops over the belt of his drawers, and he was altogether soft and flabby. The Streatham man, au contraire, looked bright, sinewy, fresh, and active, though he had trained rather lighter than on some former occasions, weighing twelve stone two pounds. The umpires and referee having been chosen, the men stood up, at ten minutes to one, for

Round 1.—As Roche held up his arms and moved half round to face the movements of Neale, he betrayed the yokel in every move. The Streatham hero eyed him with satisfaction, and walked round him with his hands well up. Roche flourished his long arms awkwardly, with no particular object but defence, and as soon as Neale saw an opening in he dashed, delivered with his left a half-arm hit on Roche’s eye, following it by such a tremendous bodier with the right that down went the mighty wrestler on the broad of his back, amid the shouts of the Londoners, the long faces of the provincials, and the consternation of the “ready-made luck” division, who were utterly dumbfounded at such a commencement. As Roche was picked up and taken to his corner he looked towards Neale with a mixture of surprise and reproach, as if to say, “Is this the way I am to be served?”

2.—A repetition of Round 1. Roche made play awkwardly; Neale retreated and shifted, stopping him cleverly. At length he in turn stepped in, delivered his one, two, cuttingly, and down went the Devonian. Roche was evidently remonstrating with his seconds in his corner, while his friends of the + division were running about frantically, hedging their bets if they could.

3.—This round only differed from the two preceding in the fact that, after some exchanges, in which the balance was all in favour of Neale, the latter suddenly closed, and giving Roche his leg, clearly threw the wrestler, amid the shouts of the Londoners and the astonished silence of the men from the “West Countrie.”

4, 5, and 6.—Ditto, ditto, ditto. Roche tried, however, a little up-hill fighting, and hit Neale twice or thrice, but with little effect, while Ned’s left-handers operated like kicks of a horse. (£100 to £10 on Neale offered.)

7.—In a bustling exchange Ned sent his left obliquely over Roche’s shoulder, who instantly clutched him, and endeavoured to bear him down. To the surprise of all Ned fairly lifted his ponderous adversary, and sent him down heavily by the back-heel, falling on him. (Utter dismay among the Devonians, and uproarious joy among the regular ring-goers. Ten to one going begging.)

It would be a mere waste of space to detail further the ensuing rounds, which went on up to the 30th. Roche, however, cut up game, and manfully did his best when he found how he was “sold” by his friends, who were themselves deservedly “sold” in turn. In Round 29, Ned being called upon by Spring to “put on the final polish,” went and delivered a left jobbing hit; Roche shifted, and in returning got Ned by the neck, under his arm, and fairly lifted him off the ground. Neale was for a few seconds in a critical position, but Roche, as he hung his weight on him, did not know what to do with him, and instead of being severely fibbed Ned got down cleverly, to the great relief of his anxious friends.

30, and last.—Neale broke ground cautiously, but confidently, making play with both hands, first delivering on the head and following it with a body blow, in the coolest and most workman-like manner, Roche “standing it like a lamb,” as one of his backers bitterly remarked. Neale after following him round the ring, at length caught him a straight one on the nose, then a flush hit on the mouth, and Roche went down on his back, Neale falling over him. When Roche was in his corner there seemed to be a sort of conference, when Ned walked across and assured Roche that he “meant to win and no mistake, so he might go on if he liked.” This plain hint was duly appreciated, and Roche declared he would “fight no more.” Time, thirty minutes.

Remarks.—A less accomplished fighter than Roche never stripped to contend with so tried a boxer as Ned Neale. Independent of heavy slowness, his ideas of defence and stopping were of the clumsiest and most puerile description. Though no doubt superior to Ned as a mere wrestler, even in this he was taken by surprise and signally overthrown. Great pains were taken to circulate stories of the strength and prowess of Roche, to cover the arranged defeat of Neale, as the vanquished man afterwards confessed. There is no doubt that Roche first issued his challenge inconsiderately, and, from an undue estimate of his own boxing capabilities; but that his confidence was based upon the information that he was to have an easy victory, all matters being made smooth for the result. Poor Roche, in truth, was a mere tool in the affair, and paid the penalty of his presumption and credulity.

Neale returned to the Swan Inn to dress, and after his ablutions met a party of friends from Portsmouth at dinner, his features being without a scratch. In the afternoon his “caravan” set out, decorated with blue and white favours, and accompanied a pair of Kentish-keyed bugles—the predecessors of our modern cornets-à-piston—on a drive through the villages, amid the cheers of the multitude, to Milford, where, on reaching his training quarters, he found the house ornamented with blue and white bunting, and bannerets of blue and white ribbons, with mine host Mandeville at the door, his old wrinkled face cracking like a mealy potato as he announced dinner number two, which was prepared in his spacious and convenient club-room. A score of smiling friends welcomed the victor, and Ned’s health was drunk with enthusiasm. Neale declared, in returning thanks, that “he was never happier, and hoped he had convinced his friends that he would not deceive them, as honour was dearer to him than money. He had punished those who would have had him rob those to whom he owed his fame and good name, and to deceive those who meant wrong he considered both fair and honest.”

Far different was the case with poor Roche. After being taken back to his inn and bled—for which one of his chapfallen backers tendered the operator a shilling—he was deserted, and but for one friend might have been almost penniless. That the downfal of the “clever ones” was signal was manifest, and those country friends whom they “let into the secret” were loud in their protestations of the whole affair being “a fluke.” Two or three London houses used by the conspirators, which had prepared illuminations in honour of the “certainty,” were conspicuous for their total eclipse when the real news arrived.

Neale and Roche showed on the following Thursday, at Harry Holt’s benefit, Roche exhibiting heavy marks of head punishment, while Neale had not a scratch.

With the close of 1828 came our hero’s retirement from the P. R., and it is to be regretted that mine host of the “Rose and Crown”—for he had now settled down as Boniface in the pleasant village of Norwood, then celebrated for its rurality and gipsy encampments—did not adhere to this resolution; but it was not to be. Some taunting words of a very “fast” young boxer, Young Dutch Sam, led to Neale’s acceptance of his challenge for £100 a-side. The fight came off at Ludlow, April 7th, 1829, and after a gallant struggle of seventy-one rounds, in one hour and forty-one minutes, Neale succumbed to his youthful and scientific opponent. Dissatisfied with the issue, Neale lost no time in challenging Young Sam to a second encounter, which, after an arrest of Neale and a postponement, came off near Bumpstead, in Essex, on the 18th of January, 1831. Here the result was again defeat, this time in fifty-two minutes and fourteen rounds. It was clear that Neale’s best days had gone by.

Prompted by courage rather than prudence, he made yet one more appearance in the P. R. It was with an early opponent, Tom Gaynor (See Life of Gaynor, Chap. IX., post), and here again he had miscalculated his energies, succumbing after a gallant battle of 111 minutes, during which forty-five rounds were contested.

The fistic career of Ned Neale thus closed, as with so many other athletes, in defeat. Yet he retired with his laurels unsullied, his character for courage and honesty unsmirched; and respected by all who knew him, he shuffled off “this mortal coil” at the “Rose and Crown,” Norwood, near the place of his birth, on the 15th of November, 1846.

The sobriquet “My Nevvy” with old ring-goers long survived the sponsor (Uncle Ben), who first bestowed it upon his protégé on introducing Jem Burn to the P. R., an event which took place in 1824.

Jem first saw the light at Darlington, in the county of Durham, twenty years previous—namely, on the 15th March, 1804—and was in due time apprenticed to a skinman (vulgo, a “skiver”) at Newcastle-on-Tyne. We need not say that Jem came of a fighting stock—both his uncles, “Big Bob” and “Ben” being well known within and without the twenty-four-foot roped square miscalled the “ring;” the latter at this period being the popular host of the “Rising Sun,” in Windmill Street, Piccadilly, in after years the domicile of “Jolly Jem” himself.

Now the fame of his muscular relatives had reached the remote northern residence of Jem, and, like Norval, “he had read of battles, and he longed to follow to the field some warlike chief;” so, having tried “his ’prentice han’” on a north country bruiser of some local fame, hight Gibson, he, like other aspiring spirits, looked towards the great Metropolis for a wider field for the exercise of his talents.

It is recorded that Jem’s battle with Gibson was a severe one, occupying one hour and twenty minutes; and that in another bout with a boxer named Jackson, a resolute fellow, Jem, in a two hours’ encounter, displayed such quickness and ability as to spread his fame throughout the district.

Brown, a twelve stone wrestler, with some fistic pretensions, challenged “Young Skiver,” as his comrades then called him. In twenty-five minutes he found out his mistake, retiring from the ring with second honours, while Jem was comparatively without a mark.

As a matter of course, on his arrival in London Jem made his way to Uncle Ben’s, where he was received with a hearty welcome, had the run of a well-stocked larder, and was soon hailed as a “morning star” of the first magnitude, and fit herald of new glories to the “Rising Sun.”

Uncle Ben lost no time in presenting “My Nevvy” to the Corinthian patrons of his “crib;” and as Jem was certainly clever with the mufflers, stood five feet ten in his shoes, with good arms, no lack of confidence, and great youthful activity and dash, he was looked upon as a likely aspirant, at no distant day, for the championship of England, recently vacated by the accomplished Tom Spring, after his two fights with Langan.

The friends of Uncle Ben, however, were too prudent to risk Jem’s opening prospects by matching him with a first-class professional. At this period there was an immense immigration of heavy “Patlanders,” chiefly viâ Liverpool, of whom Pierce Egan was the literary Mæcenas, and Jack Langan the M.C. Among them was one styled “Big O’Neal,” who must not be confounded with the “Streatham Youth,” Ned, whose name, for some time, Pierce insisted on printing with the national prefix “O’,” though he expunged it from the fifth volume of “Boxiana,” and on his presentation cup.

Articles were drawn for the modest figure of £25 a-side, witnessed by Langan and Uncle Ben, and the day and place fixed for the 26th of July, 1824, within fifty miles of London. At the appointed time the men met at Chertsey Bridge, near Staines. O’Neal, attended by Langan and Peter Crawley, first threw his hat into the ring, and “My Nevvy” soon followed suit, esquired by Tom Owen and Uncle Ben—so that all six, principals and seconds, were emphatically “big ’uns.” The Irishman was the favourite, at six to four, his fame having “gone before him.” The colours, a green bandanna for O’Neal, and a chocolate with light blue spot for Burn, having been tied to the stakes, the men lost no time in peeling, and stood up at a few minutes past one for