Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
expectation and anxiety were intermingled here and there in the features
of the real lads of the fancy; many of whom, upon this very interesting
occasion, had bets to a considerable amount depending upon the result of
the day. The bang-up blades were pushing their prads along in gay style,
accompanied by two friends, that is to say, a biped and a quadruped. The
queer fancy lads, who had hired hacks from the livery-stable keepers,
were kicking up a dust, and here and there rolling from their prancers
in their native soil; while the neck or nothing boys, with no prospect
but a whereas before their eyes, were as heedless of their personal
safety as they were of their Creditor's property. Jaded hacks and crazy
vehicles were to be seen on all sides--here lay a bankrupt-cart with
the panels knock'din, and its driver with an eye knock'd out, the horse
lamed, and the concern completely knock'd up, just before the period
when the hammer of the Auctioneer was to be called in, and his effects
knock'd down. There was another
1 Curry the coal--Make sure of the money.
~398~~ of the same description, with a harum-scarum devil of
a half-bred, making his way at all risks, at a full gallop, as
unmanageable in his career as his driver had been in his speculations;
dust flying, women sprawling, men bawling, dogs barking, and the
multitude continually increasing. Scouts, Scamps, Lords, Loungers and
Lacqueys--Coster-mongers from--To the Hill Fields--and The Bloods from
Bermondsey, completely lined the road as far as the eye could reach,
both before and behind; it was a day of the utmost importance to the
pugilistic school, as the contest had excited a most unparalleled degree
of interest!
It would be scarcely possible to give a full and accurate description
of the appearances as they went along; imagination would labour in vain,
and words are altogether incapable of conveying a picture of the road to
this memorable fight; the various instances in which they could discover
that things were not all right were admirably contrasted by others,
where care and good coachmanship, with a perfect management of the
bloods, proved the reverse--while the single horsemen, whose hearts were
really engaged in the sport, were picking their way with celerity, and
posting to the point of attraction.--The public-houses were thronged
to excess, and the Turnpike-keepers made a market of the mirth-moving
throng.
Our party arrived in the neighbourhood of Copthorne about half-past
twelve, where all was bustle and confusion. The commissary in chief, Mr.
Jackson, being out of town, some of the subalterns, who had taken the
command _pro tempore_, had, for divers weighty reasons,principally
founded on a view to the profits of certain of the Surrey Trusts, and to
accommodate the sporting circles at Brighton, fixed the combat to take
place in a meadow belonging to a farmer named Jarvis, near this place.
On this spot accordingly the ring was formed, and an immense mass of
all descriptions of vehicles was admitted, not much, it may naturally
be supposed, to the prejudice of the owner of the premises, whose
agents were praise-worthily active in levying proper contributions. Some
Gentlemen however in the neighbourhood, observing that the strictest
delicacy was not maintained towards the sacredness of their fences,
insisted that the place was too confined, and intimated that a move must
be made, or they should make application to the Magistrates; and at
the same time suggested Crawley Downs, the site of so ~399~ many former
skirmishes, as the most convenient spot for their accommodation.
In this state of things, a move immediately took place, and a fresh
ring was established on the spot alluded to; but, in effecting this new
lodgment, much mortification was experienced, not alone by those, who,
after a dreadful drag up one of the worst by-roads in England, had
obtained a comfortable situation, but by those, who, speculating on the
formation of the ring, had expended considerable sums in the hire of
waggons for their purpose from the surrounding farmers. The waggons
it was found impossible to move in due time, and thus the new area was
composed of such vehicles as were first to reach the appointed ground.
The general confusion now was inconceivable, for, notwithstanding the
departure of connoisseurs from Jarvis's Farm, Martin still maintained
his post, alleging, that he was on the ground originally fixed, and
that he should expect Randall to meet him there; in which demand he was
supported by his backers. This tended to increase the embarrassment of
the amateurs; however, about one, Randall arrived at Crawley Downs, in
a post-chaise, and took up his quarters at a cottage near the ground,
waiting for his man; and at two, General Barton, who had just mounted
his charger, intending to consult the head-quarters of the Magistrates,
to ascertain their intention in case of proceeding to action at Jarvis's
Farm, was suddenly arrested in his progress by an express from the
Martinites, announcing that their champion had yielded his claim to the
choice of ground, and was so anxious for the mill, that he would meet
Randall even in a saw-pit. Bill Gibbons arriving soon after, the Ring,
with the assistance of many hands, was quickly formed; by which time,
Tom and Bob had secured themselves excellent situations to view the
combat.
About twenty minutes before three, Randall entered the outer Ring,
attended by General Barton and Mr. Griffiths. He was attired in a
Whitehall upper Benjamin, and _threw his hat into the Ring_ amidst loud
applause. In a few minutes after, Martin approached from an opposite
direction, accompanied by Mr. Sant and Mr. Elliott; he was also warmly
greeted.
The men now passed the ropes, and were assisted by their immediate
friends in peeling for action. Martin was ~400~~ attended by Spring and
Thurton; Randall, by Harry Holt and Paddington Jones.
The men stript well, and both appeared to be in excellent health, good
spirits, and high condition; but the symmetry of Randall's bust excited
general admiration; and the muscular strength of his arms, neck, and
shoulders, bore testimony to his Herculean qualities; the whole force of
his body, in fact, seem'd to be concentrated above his waistband. Martin
stood considerably above him, his arms were much longer, but they wanted
that bold and imposing weight which characterized those of Randall. They
walked up to the _scratch_, and shook hands in perfect good fellowship.
Every man now took his station, and the heroes threw themselves into
their guard.
It was rumoured that Martin intended to lose no time in manoeuvring, but
to go to work instanter. This however he found was not so easily to
be effected as suggested, for Randall had no favour to grant, and was
therefore perfectly on his guard. He was all wary caution, and had
clearly no intention of throwing away a chance, but was evidently
waiting for Martin to commence. Martin once or twice made play, but
Randall was not skittishly inclined, all was “war hawk.” Randall made a
left-handed hit to draw his adversary, but found it would not do.
Martin then hit right and left, but was stopped. Randall was feeling for
Martin's wind, but hit above his mark, though not without leaving one of
a red colour, which told “a flattering tale.” Randall returned with his
left, and the men got to a smart rally, when Randall got a konker, which
tapped the claret. An almost instantaneous close followed, in which
Randall, grasping Martin round the neck with his right arm, and bringing
his head to a convenient posture, sarved out punishment with his left.
This was indeed a terrific position. Randall was always famous for the
dreadful force of his short left-handed hits, and on this occasion they
lost none of their former character. Martin's nob was completely in a
vice; and while in that hopeless condition, Randall fibbed away with the
solid weight of the hammer of a tuck-mill. His aim was principally at
the neck, where every blow told with horrible violence. Eight or ten
times did he repeat the dose, and then, with a violent swing, threw
Martin to the ground, falling on him as he; went with all his weight.
The Ring resounded with applause, and Jack coolly took ~401~~ his seat
on the knee of his Second. Martin's friends began to look blue, but
still expected, the fight being young, there was yet much to be done.
All eyes were now turned to Martin, who being lifted on Spring's knee,
in a second discovered that he was done. His head fell back lifeless,
and all the efforts of Spring to keep it straight were in vain. Water
was thrown on him in abundance, but without effect: he was, in fact,
completely senseless; and the half-minute having transpired, the
Nonpareil was hailed the victor.
Randall appeared almost without a scratch, while poor Martin lay like a
lump of unleavened dough; he was removed and bled, but it was some time
before he was conscious of his defeat.
Nothing could exceed the astonishment which so sudden and complete a
finish to the business produced. The round lasted but seven minutes and
a half, of which four minutes and a half had elapsed before a blow was
attempted. Thus ended one of the most extraordinary battles between two
known game men on the pugilistic records. Very heavy bets had been made
upon it in all parts of the kingdom. One gentleman is said to have had
five thousand pounds, and another one thousand eight hundred guineas.
The gains of the conqueror were supposed to be about a thousand pounds.
The amusements of the day were concluded by a second fight between
Parish and Lashbroke, which proved a manly and determined contest for
upwards of an hour, and in which the combatants evinced considerable
skill and bravery, and was finally decided in favour of Parish. All
amusement which might have been derived from this spectacle, however,
was completely destroyed by the daring outrages of an immense gang of
pickpockets, who broke in the Ring, and closed completely up to the
ropes, carrying with them every person, of decent appearance, and openly
robbing them of their watches, pocket-books and purses. And the lateness
of the hour, it being five o'clock, and almost dark, favoured the
depredators.
In the midst of this struggle, Tom Dashall had nearly lost his fancy
topper,{1} and Tallyho was secretly eased of his clicker.{2} From the
scene of tumult and confusion they were glad to escape; and being again
safely seated in the
1 Topper--A flash term given to a hat.
2 Clicker--A flash term given to a watch,
~402~~ barouche, they made the best of their way home; in doing which,
they found the roads almost as much clogg'd as they were in the morning.
The Randallites were meritorious, and, flushed with good fortune, lined
the public-houses on the road to _wet their whistles_, singing and
shouting his name in strains to them equally inspiring as
“See the conquering hero comes!
Sound your trumpets, beat your drums;”
while the Martinites rolled along the road in sullen silence; and, by
the time they reached town, an account of the Battle was hawking about
the streets, and songs singing to the praise of the successful combatant
in all the melodious cadences of a last dying speech and confession:
such is the promptitude of London Printers, Poets, and News-venders.
“Well,” said Dashall, as they re-entered the house, “the events of this
day have completely disappointed some of the knowing ones.”
“That may be,” replied Bob, “but they have been too knowing for me,
notwithstanding your previous instructions. However, I don't regret
seeing the humours of a Prize Ring; and the next time you catch me