REMARKS.――Upon the character of this protracted fight

we have few observations to make. The length of time

which two men of such size continued to attack each

other, and to pour in a succession of blows, without

any decided effect, proves that, as compared with the

olden members of the ring, they did not possess those

punishing qualities which are essential to an

accomplished boxer; and that they have earned little of

that admiration which, in former times, was excited by

the slashing execution of big men. Burke evidently

possessed more cunning than Byrne, and often took him

by surprise by threatening the body when he meant the

head, and _vice versa_. The early injury to Byrne’s

right hand was a decided disadvantage, and had he

fought more at the body, from Burke’s sickness, it was

considered the result might have been different. Taking

the battle as a whole, however, it certainly entitled

the men to the greatest praise, and placed them on

record as boxers of the highest courage and

extraordinary powers of receiving. But for the disorder

which prevailed, we have no doubt the contest would

have elicited universal astonishment, especially

towards the finish, when the adversaries rushed to each

other repeatedly, and hit away with unshrinking courage

and perseverance, never going down without a mutual

dose of pepper. As the battle drew toward a close,

Byrne missed many of his left-handed counters, and in

the 98th round received such a stinging hit with the

right on his temple, that on coming up for the last

time, it was clear his chances were gone by. The

Deaf’un rushed in to finish, and, being still

“himself,” had only to hit out and end his

extraordinary labours.

The men, after the fight, were re-conducted to their respective

quarters at St. Alban’s, and were both put to bed. Byrne was bled by a

surgeon, but continued in a state of stupor. His punishment seemed to

have been severest on the left side of the head; his left eye was

completely closed, while his mouth and face generally were much

swollen. In the body, too, there had been many blows, especially on

his left side. He received every possible attention, and a gentleman

who had been extremely kind to him in his training remained with him

the whole night. Burke was by no means so great a sufferer, although

he bore severe marks of hitting, and his arms, from the shoulders to

the wrists, were black with stopping. To his heavy falls his sickness

was principally attributed. As a proof that he was “all right,” as he

said, after lying in bed a few hours, he got up and dressed, and went

to town the same night, and showed at Tom Gaynor’s, where he received

the congratulations of his friends, and talked of throwing down the

gauntlet to all England as soon as he recovered.

In the same paper we find that poor Byrne’s state had become very

precarious on the day after the fight; that his head had been shaved,

and leeches applied to the bruised parts. It was thought by his

friends that his mind was deeply affected by his defeat, and that he

suffered as much from this feeling as from bodily injuries. On the

Saturday night intelligence was received in town that the poor fellow

was much better, and it was hoped out of danger, but these hopes,

unfortunately, were not destined to be realised, for we find in the

next number of _Bell’s Life_, the following remarks:――“Poor Simon, on

the Saturday after the mill, became so much better that he was

apparently quite himself, and expressed his thanks for the attentions

he had received. He said, ‘if he died, of which he had a presentiment,

his death would be more attributable to the irregularity of his mode

of life before he went into training, than to any injury sustained in

the fight.’ His mind, however, was evidently deeply affected by his

defeat, and he frequently declared he would rather have died than been

beaten; and, indeed, such was his increasing nervous agitation, that

in the course of the evening he again relapsed into insensibility,

from which he did not afterwards recover. On Sunday morning an express

was sent off to London for Spring, who had been called to town on

business. He immediately obeyed the summons, and on arriving at St.

Alban’s, and finding the precarious state in which Byrne was, at once

sent for Sir Astley Cooper, who humanely proceeded without delay to

the house where Byrne lay, and entered into consultation with the

gentleman who was in attendance. Sir Astley at once saw that the case

was hopeless. He, however, administered such remedies as he thought

best, and remained with the poor fellow until his death, which took

place at half-past eight in the evening. It was believed by both

medical men that the symptoms of the unfortunate man were aggravated

by his depressed state of mind at his defeat. There was also a strong

belief that the reflection of his having been instrumental to the

death of Sandy M’Kay also preyed upon his spirits, as he expressed a

presentiment of his own death. From the first moment of his entering

the ring, it was observable that his countenance wore an aspect of

deep care and thought, and when Burke was distressed, he regarded him

with evident feelings of commiseration. While he fought with manly

courage, and never shrank from danger, it was clear he was not

following the suggestions of his nature. He was not, in fact, a

quarrelsome man, but on the contrary, seemed animated by the most

kindly disposition, and was alike mild in his manner and his language.

Burke, also, although a rough, unpolished man, evidently had no

feeling of animosity towards his unfortunate antagonist; the only

object he had in view was to obtain victory. In fact, no two men ever

entered the ring whose sentiments towards each other were so

thoroughly devoid of malice, and whose object was so entirely wrapped

up in the desire of fame; the one being influenced by a wish to wipe

out the prejudices excited most unjustly from a former defeat, and the

latter by anxiety to excel in a profession which from his boyhood was

the darling object of his ambition. With all his roughness, however,

Burke has given traits of an excellent disposition he has on more than

one occasion risked his own life to save the lives of others. He is

also strictly honest and sober, and altogether his character stands so

high that this alone has led to his obtaining backers.”

The inquest was held on Byrne on the Monday after the fight, before

Mr. Blagg. Some of the witnesses deposed that the men were often

carried to the scratch; and that towards the conclusion of the battle

they did not think they could have gone up alone.[18]

Mr. Kingston, a surgeon of St. Alban’s, who attended the deceased,

stated that he bled him, and applied leeches to his head; that there

was concussion of the brain, but that the deceased was occasionally

sensible. Witness attended him constantly until his death. On a _post

mortem_ examination he found a great deal of extravasated blood about

the left side of the head. The brain and dura mater were also

distended with blood. The heart, liver, and intestines were perfectly

healthy. Deceased was a fine, muscular man, and witness attributed his

death to the congested state of the brain, combined with prolonged and

violent exertions, and the mental suffering under defeat.

The Coroner: “Then deceased came by his death from the blows?”――Witness:

“In my opinion, had the deceased been the victor instead of the beaten

party there would have been a chance of his recovery. There was not

sufficient injury on the head to account for death.” The Coroner

attempted to find out the names of the time-keeper and referee, but

without avail, and at length summed up, and the jury returned a

verdict of “Manslaughter against Deaf Burke as principal in the first

degree, and Tom Spring, Jem Ward, Dick Curtis, and Tom Gaynor, and the

umpires and referee as principals in the second degree.” The coroner

then made out his warrant for the committal of the parties against

whom the verdict was returned.

The body of poor Simon was buried at St. Alban’s, on the Tuesday after

the inquest. He was 32 years of age. An appeal was made by the Editor

of _Bell’s Life in London_ for the poor fellow’s widow, which was

headed by himself with five guineas, and to this, the same week, the

Deaf’un, Spring, Ward, Gaynor, and Curtis each added a similar sum,

and in a very short time the sum of £262 was raised for the

unfortunate woman.

THE TRIAL.――On Thursday, July 11th, 1833, the trial of Spring, Ward,

Gaynor, Curtis, and the Deaf’un took place at Hertford Assizes. On the

previous day, when Mr. Justice Bailey charged the Grand Jury, he

alluded to the case in a humane and impartial manner, and the Grand

Jury found a true bill against all the parties concerned. On the

Thursday morning, Burke and Dick Curtis, who had surrendered, were put

to the bar before Mr. Justice Park, and pleaded not guilty. As Spring

and the other two accused did not surrender at first, the trial of

these men was proceeded with. Witnesses were first called who proved

that the fight had taken place, after which Mr. Kingston, the surgeon

who had attended Byrne up to the time of his death, was examined. He

described the _post mortem_ examination, and the appearance of the

body, in similar terms to those which he had used before the Coroner.

He next said the fulness of the vessels of the brain might be caused

in various ways, by blows, or falls, or excitement. After three hours’

fighting such an appearance might be produced; the exertion might have

caused it without a blow. He did not find the vessels of the brain

more distended where the bruises were than in the other parts; the

cause of death was the congested state of the brain.

Examined by Mr. Justice Park: “Then, finding the vessels in the same

congested state all over the head, as you have described, should you

attribute that appearance more to general exertion than to blows or

external violence?”――Witness: “The exertion the deceased underwent

would have been sufficient of itself to have caused this appearance. I

cannot say that the blows he received were the cause of death, either

in the whole or in part. That was the conclusion to which I came on

the _post mortem_ examination.”

Mr. Justice Park, after hearing this statement, addressed the jury,

and said, “Gentlemen, that makes an end of the case. The indictment

charges that death was occasioned by blows and violence, whereas it

appears the deceased died from other causes. The prisoners, therefore,

must be acquitted.” The jury immediately returned a verdict of “Not

guilty,” and Burke and Curtis were discharged from custody. Messengers

were then despatched to inform Spring, Ward, and Gaynor of the result,

and they then surrendered and were placed at the bar. No evidence,

however, was offered against them, and a verdict of “Not guilty”

relieved them from their anxiety.

On the Thursday following the trial, a congratulatory dinner took

place at Tom Spring’s, at which a subscription was commenced towards

defraying the expenses of the defence. At the suggestion of a

gentleman who presided, a subscription was also opened, which, in a

short period, amounted to the sum of 100 guineas, for the purpose of

presenting a service of plate to the Editor of _Bell’s Life in

London_, as a token of the respect in which he was held, not only by

the men who had recently undergone their trial, and whose defence he

had conducted, but also for the manner in which he invariably

advocated the cause of fair play, and had always been foremost in the

cause of the distressed, the fatherless, and the widow. The service of

plate was presented to Mr. Dowling at a subsequent meeting at Tom

Spring’s.

Soon after the termination of the proceedings against Burke, a

challenge appeared in the Dublin and London papers from O’Rourke,

“Champion of Ireland,” for a meeting on the Curragh of Kildare; but

Burke’s friends properly objected at such a juncture to his fighting

in Ireland, the match therefore dropped.

In July a renewed proposal from Young Dutch Sam to fight the Deaf’un

for £500 a side was made over a sporting dinner at Spring’s, and £5

there and then posted; the battle to come off within a twelvemonth.

This ended in talk and a forfeit, as the Deaf’un could not raise such

a sum.

In the month of September, 1833, the air was filled with challenges,

which fell “thick as the autumn leaves in Vallombrosa;” among them one

from some “gentlemen,” who were ready to back an “Unknown, to be named

at the last deposit, against any man in the world,” for £500 to £1,000

a side. Whereupon Jem Ward accepting the proposal for £500, and

declaring his readiness to make the match, the challengers were

silent, and the “Unknown” remained thenceforth unseen and unheard of.

In September, 1833, a paragraph appeared in London and provincial

papers, to the effect that Deaf Burke would persist in his claim to

the Championship, whereon Ward wrote as follows:――

“_To the Editor of_ ‘BELL’S LIFE IN LONDON.’

“SIR,――Should the patron of the ’unknown’ candidate for ‘the

Championship’ agree to allow his man to fight for £500 a

side, my friends are ready to back me for that sum. Failing

a match being made with him, I am ready to give any other

customer a chance, and for his accommodation will fight for

any sum, from £300 to £500 a side. I am, Sir, your most

obedient servant,

“JAMES WARD. Champion of England.

“Liverpool, Sept. 18, 1833.”

The Editor having submitted this epistle to “the Deaf’un,” observes,

“that individual desires us to say, that ‘he’s ready to stands nps for

the title for a hundreds, but as for tousands, and that sorts o’

rediklus tings, he can’t say nuttins about ’em.’” Another challenge

elicited the subjoined from Ward:――

“_To the Editor of_ ‘BELL’S LIFE IN LONDON.’

“SIR,――I have long contemplated leaving the Ring altogether,

and would not offer myself again to your notice, had you not

inserted a challenge for the Championship, accompanied by a

tempting stake; to which challenge I gave a suitable reply,

stating at the time my readiness to fight the Unknown for

£500, or a smaller sum――say £300 or £400 a side. I am not

only willing to fight for the above sums, but to allow the

Unknown three months to deliberate upon it.

“I perceive that Deaf Burke calls himself ‘Champion of

England,’ and offers to make a match with me for £100 a

side. Considering that I am in business, such a sum is not

worth contending for, especially as a considerable portion

of it must be expended in training and other incidental

expenses. If Deaf Burke means fighting me, I will

accommodate him for £200 a side, and no less. Should this

not meet his views in a reasonable time, my intentions are

to retire from the Ring _in toto_; to that the Unknown and

Deaf Burke will know what to do.

JAMES WARD, Champion of England.”

“Liverpool, October 2, 1833.

The Deaf’un seemed now doomed to the sickness of “hope deferred.” He

was too good for any of the 12-stone men except the Champion, whose

price, even lowered to £200, was still too high for him. Numerous

letters passed and repassed between O’Rourke and Burke; and on one

occasion O’Rourke dragging in the name of Ward, Jem offered to stake

£300 to O’Rourke’s £200 and fight him in Ireland. To this O’Rourke

made no response, and soon after sailed for America. Ward then offered

to meet Burke £300 to £200; but even at these odds the Deaf’un could

not find backers, at which we need not be surprised when the

comparative merits of the men were weighed in the balance.

Burke, who had certainly, in addition to his great powers as a boxer,

a fund of native and quaint comicality, now utilised his talent as a

public exhibitor of models of statues from the antique, for which his

athletic development well fitted him, alternating them with displays

of the Art of Self-defence. In these tours, wherein his attendant or

agent in advance was the well-known Tommy Roundhead, the trainer (whom

the Deaf’un dubbed his “Secretary”), Burke visited Wales, Bristol, and

the West, and subsequently the Midlands and the North. An incidental

notice in a newspaper published in “the Potteries” gives us a peep at

the Deaf’un on his travels.

“A VOICE FROM THE PITCHER COUNTRY. DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE POTTERY

FANCY.――On Saturday last Tommy Roundhead, the _avant courier_ of Deaf

Burke, arrived in Hanley, and cast anchor at Mr. Hawes’s, Angel Inn,

in the Market Place. On making his business known, the worthy host

offered him the use of the large room in which Tom Spring and Big

Brown exhibited previous to Brown’s fight with Phil Sampson, at

Bishop’s Wood. Roundhead immediately got his handbills printed, and

the walls covered with well-displayed posters, announcing that on

Monday and Tuesday evenings, ‘Deaf Burke, Champion of England, and

Harry Preston, Champion of Birmingham, would take a benefit and

exhibit the manly art of self-defence; the whole to conclude with a

grand set-to, previous to Preston’s return to Birmingham to fight

Davis for one hundred guineas.’

“Tommy gave out that Burke and Preston would arrive at Hanley at noon

on Monday. During the day, but especially in the evening, the ‘Angel’

was crowded. Several indications of impatience were exhibited at the

non-appearance of the men; but in the evening, when the last coach

arrived from Birmingham, and there was no tidings of the ‘Deaf’un,’ an

universal burst of disgust went through the rooms. They all turned

upon Roundhead. Tommy got on his pins, and attempted to explain that

he left Burke on the Thursday at Atherstone, and that he had come to

Hanley, by Burke’s express desire, to engage a room for him and

Preston to spar in. He had written to Burke, at Arthur Matthewson’s,

and could only account for their non-appearance on the score that his

letter had not reached them. The grumblers vehemently vociferated,

‘Stow your patter, it’s a hoax――it’s no go, Tommy.’ A regular

‘flare-up’ had very near taken place, but, by good words and

persuasion, silence was restored, and the company dispersed

peaceably.”

From what follows, it will be seen that that very shifty

gentleman――Harry Preston――was the real cause of the apparent breach of

promise.

“The cause of this disappointment is explained by a letter

we have received from Birmingham; from which it appears that

Preston and the Deaf’un had a fall out at Arthur

Matthewson’s, which, after lots of chaff and a deposit of a

sovereign a side, was to be decided by a fight the next

morning, but on the Deaf’un going to the scratch Preston

‘would not have it.’ Some further chatter followed, in which

Preston offered to fight Burke if he would reduce himself to

12 stone. This the Deaf’un declined, but offered to fight

him £120 to £100, or £60 to £50. This would not suit Harry’s

book, and thus the matter ended. The Deaf’un’s next trip is

to Liverpool, and from thence to Scotland, where he is to

join Bob Avery in Glasgow. Poor Tommy Roundhead has been

undeservedly censured in this matter.”

That the Deaf’un had considerable pantomimic powers may be gathered

from the fact that he was engaged by the experienced manager of the

Manchester Theatre, to play _Orson_ in the Christmas piece of

“Valentine and Orson” at the Sheffield Theatre.

Thus wore away the year 1834. At Tom Spring’s Anniversary Dinner,

January 14th, 1835, which was numerously attended, Burke announced

that he was about to take a farewell benefit on the ensuing Wednesday

evening, at the “Coach and Horses,” St. Martin’s Lane, previous to his

starting for America, to fight the Irish Champion, O’Rourke, or any

other man in the United States or Canada who might fancy him. He had

come to this determination, he said, because, although ready and

willing to fight Ward for £200, Ward, after proposing to fight for

that sum, raised his price to £300, and then, finding even that large

stake was likely to be obtained, valued himself at the still higher

sum of £500, which was utterly beyond the reach of his (Burke’s)

friends. For his own part, all he wanted was the glory of the title

for which he was the candidate, and, to show that he was not afraid of

any man breathing, he would fight even for £5; his friends were still

ready to back him for £200 against the Champion, Ward. This speech,

given in Burke’s sincere but blunt style, excited warm applause, and a

pledge was given that his benefit should be well attended.

It was then suggested that the title of Champion of England ought not

to depend on the capricious will of the person by whom it had been

obtained, putting the sum at which he would risk its loss so high as

to prevent the possibility of fair competition. Ward had gradually

risen in his own estimation from £200 to £500, and he might, with as

good a grace, if it depended on himself, say he would not fight for

less than £1,000 or £10,000, and thus retain an honour to which other

men might be entitled. This opinion seemed to meet the almost

unanimous concurrence of the persons present, among whom were Spring,

Jem Burn, Ned Neale, Young Dutch Sam, Dick Curtis, Owen Swift, Smith,

Young Spring (Harry Wood, of Liverpool), and others, and a great

number of amateurs and liberal supporters of the Ring. After some

discussion, the following resolution was moved and seconded:――

“Resolved――That, in future, the _maximum_ stake at which the

Champion of England shall be considered bound to accept a

challenge shall be £200; and that if he refuse to fight for

this sum, he shall be considered as no longer holding the

title of Champion.”

A gentleman proposed as an amendment that the sum should be £250, but

this was negatived by a large majority, and the original resolution

was carried with acclamation.

It was then moved and seconded――“That if Jem Ward refuses to fight

Deaf Burke for £200, he shall no longer be considered Champion of

England, but that Burke shall assume the title, until bound to yield

to a man of greater merit.” This resolution was also carried

unanimously.

These resolutions are certainly in the spirit of common sense, and if

Ward’s situation in life placed him above the necessity of considering

himself any longer a member of the Ring, it was no more than fair――as

in the case of the veteran Tom Cribb and his successor Tom

Spring――that he should retire; a step which certainly could not have

stripped him of any of the honours to which he had previously entitled

himself.

The disappointed Deaf’un now repaired to Liverpool, and departing

thence, like another Childe Harold, “he sung, or might, or could, or

should, or would have sung”:――

“Adieu! Adieu! My native shore

Fades o’er the waters blue;

The night-wind sighs, the breakers roar,

Load shrieks the wild sea-mew.

Yon sun, that’s setting o’er the sea,

We’ll follow in its flight;

Farewell awhile to it and thee――

My native land――Good night!

“With thee, my bark, I’ll swiftly go,

Athwart the foaming brine,

Nor care what land thou bear’st me to,

So not again to mine.

And if in Western land I find

A worthy foe in fight,

My conquering brow with bays I’ll bind――

So, native land――Good night!”

And so “Childe Burke” did, after a pleasant tour, in which he always

spoke as receiving warm welcome and hospitality from the Americans;

although, as we shall presently see, upon the unanswerable testimony

of their own papers, the _perfervidum ingenium_ of certain emigrant

Hibernian rowdies proved the prudence of Burke’s friends when they

declined a contest on the Curragh of Kildare.

After a brief stay in New York, where he was well received, Burke did

not find any regular “professional” inclined to test his pugilistic

capabilities, and, after duly acknowledging the good spirit in which

he had been received, he announced, that, in compliance with “a

vaunting challenge in a New Orleans paper, in which O’Rourke was

stated to be resident in that city, and ready to meet any man in the

world,” he, the Deaf’un, had determined on a southward trip, and to

drop down on Mr. O’Rourke on the scene of his glory. As the Deaf’un

always meant what he said, and, himself unconscious of foul play, did

not suspect it in others, he sailed for the city of swamps and

slavery.

He had reckoned, in his simplicity, that a stranger would have fair

play, as with Englishmen, but soon found out his egregious mistake. As

we desire the character of an impartial historian, we shall merely

extract the account of this affair from the _Charleston Courier_ of

May 13th, 1837 which gives the account under date of New Orleans, May

6th:――

“FIGHTING RIOTS, &c.――For some two or three days past, large

numbers of our population have been thrown into considerable

excitement by handbills posted up in bar-rooms and at the

corners of the streets, that a pugilistic combat was to take

place yesterday between two celebrated prize-fighters, Deaf

Burke, an Englishman, and O’Rourke, an Irishman. The fight

between the rival champions, as they style themselves, took

place at about one o’clock, at the forks of the Bayou Road.

Some two or three rounds were fought, which resulted

particularly to the advantage of neither of the

belligerents. The second of O’Rourke, happening to come

within hitting distance of Burke, received a severe blow

from the Deaf-man himself. Whether this was right or wrong,

not being at the fight, we know not. At any rate it was the

signal for a general scrimmage, in which the Irishmen joined

the O’Rourke party, and handled Burke and his friends with

fists and sticks made of anything but dough and molasses.

O’Rourke’s second was settled down by a settler from Burke’s

own fist, when the Deaf-man, thinking his heels better

preservatives of his face and feelings than his fists, took

the leg-itimate course adopted by all men and animals when

assaulted by a superior force.

“Matters were now coming to a fine pass. Burke was followed

by crowds of Irishmen with shillelaghs, dray-pins, whips,

and what not. A friend, on seeing him pass, handed him a

bowie-knife, and another gave him a horse, with which he

made good his escape.

“Of the different riots which took place at the scene of

action we were not witnesses. Some say there was foul play

on the part of O’Rourke’s friends, and especially by his

second, and that it was intended long before the fight took

place that Burke should get a thrashing by foul or fair

means. The man who handed Burke the knife was cruelly beaten

by the infuriated friends of O’Rourke: it is reported, and

we fear with much truth, that he was killed.

“O’Rourke’s friends bore him about our streets in triumph

yesterday afternoon in a coach drawn by themselves.

“On the arrival of the different parties in town, inflamed

with liquor and ready for any disturbance, many affrays

occurred. During the whole afternoon, large numbers of

malcontents, principally Irishmen, were congregated in the

vicinity of the Union House, and Armstrong’s, opposite the

American Theatre. Several serious and disgraceful fights

took place, in some of which the rascally mob beat and

otherwise maltreated a number of innocent and unoffending

individuals. A large number of arrests were made.

“The reports in town of the loss of lives, and of the

results of the wild spirit of anarchy and confusion which

existed in the afternoon, are so various, so contradictory,

that we cannot comment upon them. The whole affair was

disgraceful in the extreme.

“The Washington Guards were ordered out at eight o’clock

last evening by the Mayor to quell any disturbance which

might arise. As late as two o’clock this morning everything

was comparatively quiet.”

Thus it would seem that the affair ended in a complete Irish row, in

which the lawless habits of “the Knights of the Shillelagh” put all

fair play at defiance. We hope we are not open to a charge of national

prejudice, but would fairly put the question, “Would such

ruffianism――and ruffianism is always cruel and cowardly――be possible

among a people imbued with the fair-play practices and the principles

inculcated by regulated pugilism?”

Some anxiety was caused in London by a rumour in a New York paper,

that the Deaf’un had received his “quietus” not with “a bare bodkin”

but an “Arkansas tooth-pick;” much relief therefore, was felt by them

on finding from the Charleston papers that he was still in the land of

the living, and had returned to New York; not finding his life safe

among a set of men who considered a challenge to their “Champion” as

an individual, a national insult, to be wiped out by assassination.

That he had returned in safety was shown by scattered notices in the

New York papers, from which we gather that one O’Connell, who, like

his namesake on this side the Atlantic, was “an out-and-out big

potato,” had challenged the Deaf’un for 500 dollars and “the honour of

ould Ireland,” to a fistic tourney. This Burke had accepted, and

Elizabeth Town Point was named as the field of battle. A sheriff’s

notice, in anticipation of another Irish riot, compelled a change of

ground to Hart’s Island, which was reached by a steam excursion, and

here the affair came off without interruption. What follows is from

the _New York Herald_:――

“The ‘Prize Ring,’ as it is emphatically called, is not without its

merits, and although we regret and detest these exhibitions――when as

exhibitions merely――our duty as chroniclers of passing events compels

us to make public what otherwise we should bury in oblivion. Among the

ancients these spectacles were frequent, and cherished by the

government of the people indulging in them; and it is yet doubtful

whether they do not in some degree tend to benefit the community

at large. There is a feeling of courage――of proud, manly

self-dependence――accompanying the champions of the Ring, that

otherwise would not be elicited. The manly stand-up fight is surely

far preferable to the insidious knife――the ruffianly gang system――or

the cowardly and brutal practice of biting, kicking, or gouging, now

so prevalent. The ancient Romans conquered and civilised half the

world, and it is to them we owe the gladiatorial spectacle of the

Prize Ring――modified by modern civilisation, but yet retaining

sufficient of its origin to portray the manners and habits of the

people among whom it has taken root. The British people are

particularly fond of this exhibition, and there are some good

consequences attending it. The street broil or hasty quarrel is

deprived of half its ferocity. Three or four or more do not fall upon

and beat a single individual. None but gangs of ruffians can commit

such deeds. The single man when struck down by his opponent is

permitted to rise and put himself, as it were, in something like

equilibrium with his opponent. Stamping upon a man when down――biting,

kicking, and other such ‘courageous’ displays are entirely exploded;

and when the party combating cries ‘hold, enough,’ no bowie-knife

enters his vitals, or proves the superior courage of his opponent by

depriving him of existence. With all its disadvantages, therefore, and

demoralising tendency, as contended, and perhaps truly so, it may be

doubted whether the spirit emanating from it may not be productive of

benefit among the lower classes. The knock-down blow is surely

preferable to private assassination, or even to the open taking of

human life by means of deadly weapons. Quitting these reflections, let

us give our account of the fight itself.

“At nine o’clock the steamboat left the ferry (Catharine Street), with

about three hundred passengers, and those of a very select kind, owing

principally, perhaps, to the high price demanded for tickets――three

dollars, which speedily rose to four and five dollars, and even at

that price could not be procured. The destination was Hart’s Island,

where the passengers were landed and the preliminary measures to the

‘set-to’ adopted. A twenty-four feet ring, according to the articles

of agreement, was formed, and an outside one to prevent any

interruption to the pugilistic efforts of the combatants. The ring

being completed, and the seconds proclaiming ‘all ready,’ the two

champions made their appearance――O’Connell, as the challenger, threw

his hat first in the ring, which was quickly answered by Burke; the

men then peeled for the battle.

“On stripping, the great disparity between the two men was apparent.

Burke presented an iron frame, in which all surperfluous flesh seemed

excluded. His broad and extended chest, his outward turned knees, that

take off from beauty to add so much to muscular power, his muscular

and well-knit lower limbs left no doubt on the minds of the spectators

that no common skill or bodily strength would be sufficient to

overpower or vanquish the possessor. O’Connell stripped to greater

advantage than was expected. His upper frame is large and muscular,

but it wants compactness and tension. His sinews hang loose, and his

frame is far from being well banded together. In his lower

conformation this defect is still more striking; this is his weak

point, and must ever incapacitate him from becoming a redoubtable

competitor in the Prize Ring. ‘All ready’ being proclaimed by the

respective seconds (Abm. Vanderzee and Alexander Hamilton officiating

for O’Connell, and Hatfield and Summerdyke for Deaf Burke), the

opponents previously shaking hands, put themselves in attitude for the

onset.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――The men came up, each equally confident. Some

sparring took place which only tended to show in a more

striking point the disparity of the pugilists. The

quick eye of Burke immediately discovered that he had

the game in his hands, and he accordingly forebore any

active exertion, threw his body open, which O’Connell

immediately caught at, and implanted two heavy

blows――one immediately beneath the ribs, and the second

on the loins of his adversary. Burke received this

infliction without the slightest variation of muscle or

feature――and in return put forth a feeler (left hand)

which dropped O’Connell at his full length. Some of

Burke’s friends cheered――this was instantly stopped by

the umpires, who requested that, let the fight

terminate how it might, no ebullition of the feelings

of either party should be suffered to take place. All,

upon this appeal, were immediately silent.

2.――Both men were equally confident. O’Connell smiled,

as much as to say “I stoop to conquer.” Burke made

play; O’Connell struck a well-meant left-handed

compliment to Burke’s knowledge-box, which was prettily

stopped. Burke returned with right, in part husbanding

his strength; the blow told slightly on O’Connell’s

bread-basket――a wrestle――O’Connell down. First blood

was here claimed by each party. The umpires decided

that both sported the claret simultaneously――thus

deciding all wagers on this matter.

3.――Burke appeared brooding mischief. O’Connell struck

a random blow and lost his guard, when Burke

immediately put in his tremendous right-handed blow,

which taking effect under the ear of O’Connell, floored

him as if struck by lightning.

4.――Time being called, O’Connell courageously rose to

the scratch, but had scarcely left his second’s knee,

when he fell as if through weakness. The fight was here

claimed by the friends of Burke; the umpires, however,

decided “not lost,” and the fifth round commenced.

5.――O’Connell tried a new mode, and went boldly into

his man. He succeeded in planting a pretty severe

body-blow on Burke, closed for the wrestle, but was

thrown――he fell slightly, however.

6.――Burke piped a trifle. O’Connell made a rush――got

well in for the close, but the superior strength of

Burke shook him off. O’Connell seemed spent, was

entirely off his guard, and Burke could easily have

concluded the fight by any blow he chose to have put

in; but, seeing the disabled state of O’Connell, Burke

unclosed his fist, and with the back of his open hand

struck O’Connell in the breast, which dropped him as a

man might be supposed to push down a child. A low

exclamation of approbation, impossible to repress, ran

through the spectators at the manliness of this

conduct.

7.――O’Connell seemed to be gaining strength, and fought

this round most manfully. It was evident, nevertheless,

that his faulty method of delivering his blows could

never win him the day. Three severe blows were

delivered by Burke in succession, on the head, chest,

and loins of O’Connell, who made a sort of headlong

rush, closed with Burke, bore him towards the ropes,

and was thrown heavily in the wrestle.

8.――Hatfield, the second of Burke, here said, “He’s

finished, polish him off.” O’Connell came up

staggering――Burke made a feint, and prepared to strike

a finisher. From humanity, however, he did not deliver

his blow――O’Connell closed――a short rally took place,

and O’Connell was thrown.

9.――O’Connell showed some game, but it was evidently of

an expiring effort. He faced his man, made a blow,

which fell short, and was met by Burke with a terrible

facer, which set the claret flowing in a rapid stream

from O’Connell’s nostrils. All was over.

10.――Time was repeatedly called. O’Connell rose but

could not stir a step towards his man. Burke said, “I

wish to fight honourable――I will not strike him――does

your man wish to fight any more?” O’Connell’s second

immediately gave in the battle, and Burke was declared

the conqueror.

A word or two respecting the rival combatants:

O’Connell never was or can be capable of figuring with

credit as a fighter. He wants bottom, activity, and

science――three things which are indispensable in the

formation of a boxer. From the third round he had not

the slightest chance of winning――it was a doubloon to a

shin-plaster, and no takers. The day was peculiarly

propitious, and the company of a very respectable

description. Those who conducted this affair deserve

all praise. Not the slightest disturbance of any kind

took place. It was what the Prize Ring ever ought to

be――an exhibition of manly and courageous contest.”

We need add nothing to this “round, unvarnished tale,” written by a

literary gentleman who had never before witnessed a prize-fight. In

Burke, his Irish opponent found, notwithstanding his foul treatment at

New Orleans, a brave and humane antagonist; and that, despite the

contaminating effects of bad example, the Deaf’un preserved in the New

World the high and generous qualities he exhibited in his own country.

Cant, cruelty, and cowardice have crushed out the courageous

confidence in the unarmed fist as the weapon in hand-to-hand

encounters, and the American populace trust for victory to the

bowie-knife and the revolver, when man opposes man to settle their

personal differences “in a higher phase of civilisation.” (?)

As the patrons of the Ring are, such will its professors be, holds

good as an axiom in pugilism as in every other science. A few

unprejudiced and enlightened Americans, seeing the horrors and

savagery of Irish-American rowdyism, entertained the milling

missionary, and strove to propagate his principles, but were in a

minute and powerless minority among a multitude of howling saints and

savages――for extremes meet in this as in all other things. To these

friends and sympathisers Burke bade an affectionate farewell, after a

handsome benefit, and arrived at Liverpool on the 25th of June, 1838.

During the Deaf’un’s absence some pretentious “big ones” had been

coming into prominent notice. Bendigo, Ben Caunt, and Brassey had

become famous, and not a few of their several partisans thought either

one or the other more than a match for the Deaf’un. It was whispered,

too, and too truly, that his rupture had been aggravated by an

accident, and that his habits in America had not been such as would

improve his constitution or stamina. Indeed, some of those deepest in

Ring mysteries declared his reappearance in the Ring more than

questionable. The gallant fellow himself had no such misgivings, and

lost no time in so telling his countrymen.

“THE CHAMPIONSHIP OF ENGLAND.

“_To the Editor of_ ‘BELL’S LIFE IN LONDON.’

“SIR,――When I was in Yankeeshire I heard a great deal about

‘would-be champions’ challenging any man in England. ‘While

the cat’s away the mice will play;’ and thus the little fry

took advantage of my absence to bounce and crow like cocks

in a gutter. I hastened back to take the shine out of those

braggadocios; and to put their pretensions to the test, I

beg to state that I am now ready to fight any man in England

for from One Hundred to Five Hundred Pounds; and as my old

friend Jem Ward has retired from the Ring, if he will add

his Champion’s belt to the prize, and let the best man wear

it, he will give new energies to the Ring, and, I trust,

afford an opportunity for deciding the long-contested

question, ‘Who is Champion of England?’ I bar neither

country nor colour――age nor dimensions; and whether it be

the Goliath Caunt, or his hardy antagonist Bendigo, or any

other man who ever wore a head, I am his customer, and ‘no

mistake.’ My money is ready at Jem Burn’s, the ‘Queen’s

Head,’ Queen’s Head Court, Windmill Street, Haymarket, at a

moment’s notice; but I will not consent to a less deposit

that £25 at starting. If I find the race of old English

boxers of the right kidney is extinct, I shall go back to

America, where an honest man need never want ‘a friend or a

bottle.’

“DEAF BURKE.

“Windmill Street, Haymarket, July 29, 1838.”

As we have already recorded in our memoir of Bendigo, the Nottingham

hero lost no time in accepting this challenge, and stated he had

placed £100 in the hands of Peter Crawley to make the match.

Unfortunately for the Deaf’un’s reputation, he had, through his

intimacy with Young Dutch Sam, become entangled in a vicious

companionship, as the humble “pot-companion” and gladiatorial buffoon

of a clique of dissolute young noblemen and swells, the last expiring

parodists of the school of which “Corinthian Tom” and “Jerry Hawthorn”

were the models. By these and their companions he was carried off to

France, on the pretext of training and seconding Owen Swift in his

second fight with Jack Adams, and much obloquy was cast on him

unjustly, under a supposition that he had run away from his

engagements. A “Paris Correspondent” transmitted the following:――

“PARIS, June 14.――The Deaf’un arrived in this city on

Sunday, under the _Mentorship_ of Sancho Panza, from Seven

Dials, a ‘buck’ of the first water. He met Swift on the

Boulevard des Italiens, and was so affected at the interview

with this interesting _exile_, that the water came from his

eyes like the _jet d’eau_ in the Temple Gardens. As the

speediest mode of acquiring an acquaintance with the French

language, he lives entirely on _fricandeau de dictionnaire_.

He has already won the affections of a grisette by his very

natural imitation of the statue of Cupid. He afterwards

tried the _Venus de Medici_, but that was a decided failure.

He has been favourably received by the patrons of British

Sports in the French capital, but it is feared he cannot be

presented at the Court of Louis Philippe, in consequence of

his having neglected to present himself at the Drawing-room

of our lovely young Queen. In a visit to the _Jardin des

Plantes_, he thought he recognised a young brother, but on

closer inspection he discovered it was only the chimpanzee.

He appears to be regarded with as much curiosity in Paris as

Soult was in London, and expected the old Marshal would have

given him ‘a Wellington reception,’ but hitherto the gallant

veteran has not recognised him as ‘a companion in arms.’ His

presence has already had an influence on the fashions, and

‘_pantalons à la Burke_’ have made their appearance in the

Palais Royal, while ‘_gantelets à la Deaf’un_’ are noted as

a novelty in _Le Courrier des Salons_.”

We have already noticed in our memoir of Bendigo that the Deaf’un did

not return from his continental trip until, after training Owen Swift,

and seconding him on the 5th of September, 1838, he again sought the

shores of England, lest he should receive the “polite attentions” of

the French authorities for his share in that “scandal,” as the Paris

correspondent of “My Grandmother” styled it. The staunchness of poor

Burke’s “summer friends” was now tested. They had withdrawn the £100

placed in Jem Burn’s hands, but, after some negotiation, the match was

made, Burke posting £100 to Bendigo’s £80, and on the 29th of

February, 1839, the rivals met. The full details of the Deaf’un’s

defeat may be read in pp. 16-22.

The reflection is here unavoidably thrust upon us, that the so-called

“friends” of an athlete, if they by their own loose habits seduce him

into similar irregularities, are his worst enemies. What is sport to

them is ruin to him. Temperance, regularity of living, open air

exercise, and severe attention to the wellbeing of every bodily

function that goes to build up health――the _mens sana in corpore

sano_――can never be neglected without ruinous consequences; and thus

fell the brave and imprudent Deaf’un, the victim of the follies of

those the world miscalled “his betters.” A few quatrains on his

downfall shall find a place here.

THE LAMENT OF DEAF BURKE.

Well, ’tis strange, precious strange, arter what I have done,

That in my late battle I shouldn’t have won;

I vow and protest, on the word of a bruiser,

I scarce can persuade myself yet I’m the loser.

I have always so well in the Ring gone to work,

That my backers proclaimed me “inwincible Burke;”

And then for a lad of my courage and game

To be floored by a novice――by Jove! ’tis a shame.

I hang down my head, quite dismay’d and perplex’d.

And when folks ax me questions, of course, I am wex’d,

For, instead of consoling me under my loss,

They insiniwate plainly the thing was a cross.

They swear, for a man who has stood so much fight,

To be whopp’d in ten rounds was impossible quite:

That I couldn’t be he, it was plain to discern,

Wot floor’d Carter and Crawley, O’Connell and Byrne.

They vow of their bets upon me they’ve been robb’d,

That I show’d no good point, but stood still to be jobb’d,

That no punishment sharp was produced by my blows,

And Bendy did with me whatever he chose.

Hard words for the Deaf’un, and cruel the sting,

To one who ne’er acted amiss in the Ring――

To him who was always alive to a mill,

And in thirteen prize-battles was conqueror still.

I boldly appeal to my slanderers whether

I was ever the covey to show the white feather?

And Bendigo’s conduct I cannot think right,

When he stripp’d me of something that lost me the fight.

That he acted unfairly I do not advance――

He was perfectly right not to part with a chance;

Still I say, but for this, whosoever may scoff,

He would not have easily polished me off.

And may I again never put on a glove,

If once more I don’t fight him for money or love;

And my stick I will cut in the Prize Ring, by Jove!

Ere the belt shall be worn by a Nottingham cove.

And shall poor Deaf Burke be consign’d to the shade?

No, tho’ I’m defeated I am not dismay’d,

And in a fresh contest I’ll do what I can,

To take the conceit from this bounceable man.

When victory smiles on a pugilist’s front,

He has lots of supporters and plenty of blunt;

But if luck turns against him, my eyes! how they rave,

And stamp him a cross cove――a thundering knave!

Into me some choice worthies keep pitching it home,

For sporting the _statutes_ of Greece and of Rome;

Is it fair, I would ax, to inflict this here slap,

Because I’m a sort of a classical chap?

And some swear ’tis time I was laid on the shelf,

For I grows _’ristocratic_――too sweet on myself;

Now I wenture most humbly to make an appeal,

If I’m to be blam’d for behaving genteel?

In France and New York I have sported my tanners,

And no wonder a polish I have got on my manners;

Now, I begs to inquire whether winner or loser,

Must a man be a blackguard because he’s a bruiser?

No, to tip the purlite I will still do my best,

For everything wulgar I scorn and detest;

My pipe I’ve discarded like most other stars,

And now I smoke nowt but Hawanna cigars.

And I dare say some folks may consider it strange,

That I’m courting the Muses by way of a change,

And thus in _Bell’s Life_ to my feelings give went,

In a copy of werses I’ve called “The Lament.”

Be this as it may, here I’m ready and willing

This Bendy again to encounter at milling,

And perhaps if I once get him into a line,

Tho’ the first chance was his’n, the next may be mine.

That “next chance,” as Edgar Poe’s raven said, “never, never, never

more” came to the turn of the Deaf’un, so far as regarded a meeting

with Bendy, although he issued sundry invitations and offers. In

March, 1840, occurred the accident to Bendigo, narrated at page 25,

which struck the Nottingham hero from the list of “wranglers” for the

Championship, and hereupon Burke again came to the front with a

challenge. This was quickly responded to by Nick Ward, the younger

brother of the renowned Jem. The match was made for the modest sum of

£50 a side, and the day fixed for Tuesday, the 22nd September, 1840.

The battle, which took place at Lillingstone Level, Oxfordshire, will

be found in detail in the Life of Nick Ward, Chapter V. of the present

volume.

Poor Burke’s day was gone by; unconquered in heart, his impaired

physical powers failed him, and he fell before youth, activity, skill,

and length. As we have mentioned in our memoir of Nick Ward that the

stakeholder received notice of action for the stakes, it is but just

to give the following vindication of the Deaf’un’s conduct as reported

in a contemporary journal:――

“THE DEAF’UN HIMSELF AGAIN!――The Deaf’un took a benefit at

the Bloomsbury Assembly Rooms on Tuesday evening, and,

notwithstanding his late defeat, found a goodly number of

friends, and ‘a strong turn’ in the financial department.

The sets-to, although many of them between commoners, were

amusing and effective, and conducted with great spirit and

vigour. Among the most popular was that between Owen Swift

and Maley, in which the quickness and scientific deliveries

of the former were happily illustrated. At the conclusion

the Deaf’un mounted the stage to ‘wind-up,’ but

unfortunately, Caunt having forfeited his promise to appear,

he was only opposed to a new beginner called ‘The Cumberland

Youth,’ whose inexperience left the star of the night

nothing to do but flap him at pleasure. The Deaf’un, after

smoothing down his bristles with his dexter digits, and

clearing his throat by sundry ‘hems,’ delivered himself of

the following oration, which we took down as nearly as could

be verbatim. ’Gemmen――I have dis here to say. I’m werry sory

as Caunt has not come to sets-to wid me according to his

promises, for he gave me his words of honours as he would

attend; but dats de way wid dese here mens――when dey gets to

the top of de trees, dey do nothing to help a poor fellow as

is down; but dey had better minds what dey are abouts, or

they’ll be as bad as Jack Scroggins, and look for a

_tanners_ when they can’t find it. Gemmen――I mean to say as

I do not thinks as I was fairly beat by Bendigo, and I am

prouds to say as I am not widout friends what tink de same,

and as are ready to back me for a cool hundreds against him,

or Nick Wards, or Jem Bailey. Bendigo is wery bounceable

now, as he says he has licked me; but I says he took an

unfair advantage in regard of my belt; but dats neither one

ting nor toder; and if he has friends, if he’s a man, he’ll

give me anoder chance, and till he does, I shall always

thinks as he has won de belts widout any right to it. I went

to Sheffields and Nottinghams to make a match wid him, and

now let him show equal pluck and come to London to make a

match wid me――my pewters is always ready (applause). Dat’s

all I’ve got to say. Gemmen, I thank my friends and patrons

for coming here to-night (coughing); but I’ve got something

here (pointing to his throat, and the poor fellow appeared

overflowing with gratitude) which won’t let me say no

mores.’――It is not very creditable to the _élite_ of the

Fancy to have abstained from setting-to for the unfortunate

fellow; for, although his ignorance may have led him to

assume too much, the motto of all professed pugilists should

be ‘forget and forgive;’ and ‘if a man’s in distress, like a

man to relieve him.’”

In the years 1841-2, the magistracy and police, stimulated into

abnormal activity by a sort of clerical crusade against the Ring “and

all its works,” set the powers of the law in motion against pugilists

and their patrons, and “all persons aiding and abetting in riotous and

tumultuous assemblages calculated to produce a breach of the peace,”

by issuing warrants, holding them to bail, and indicting them at the

quarter sessions of the county wherein the same took place. Among the

zealots of this Puritanical campaign against the amusements and

relaxations of the people, the Rev. Joshua Cautley, curate of

Broughton, in Bedfordshire, distinguished himself with the fervour of

Ralpho, the squire of Sir Hudibras; though he, fortunately, escaped

the cudgellings, rotten eggs, and stocks, which in rougher times

befell his prototype. In an evil hour the Deaf’un came in contact with

this clerical suppressor of “anti-knife” congregations, under the

serio-comic circumstances we are about to narrate.

On the 9th of February, 1841, at Holcut, in Bedfordshire, an orderly

assemblage surrounded a well-arranged inner-and-outer ring, within the

latter of which Ned Adams, of London, and Dick Cain, of Leicester,

were contending. At a critical period of the battle, the curate of

Broughton, the Rev. Joshua Cautley, who was not, as all the “rurals”

surrounding the ring well knew, either a magistrate in the commission

of the peace, or in any way legally authorised to interfere, appeared

at the ring-side in an excess of peace-preserving furor, and not only

attempted to take Adams into custody (without any warrant), but cut

the ropes with a knife, and behaved otherwise in an outrageous manner.

He was afterwards aided by a police constable (John M’Hugh), and by

the arrival of the Rev. Edward Orlebar Smith, a Justice of the Peace

for Bedfordshire, previous to whose appearance on the scene certain of

the country people present had certainly ejected Parson Cautley from

the ring. The Rev. Justice of the Peace, as it appears, then put his

fellow clergyman and himself on the right side of the law by

reading――at a distance, and amidst immense confusion and the

continuance of the battle――the Riot Act. The result of all this was

that the zealous Parson Cautley procured, upon affidavit sworn by

himself, the constable, and the Rev. Mr. Smith, the indictment of

thirteen persons (six of them being his own neighbours) at the ensuing

Bedford Quarter Sessions. The pugilists indicted were James Burke,

Owen Swift, Edward Adams, and Richard Cain, Thomas Brown (the

respected landlord of the “Swan,” at Newport Pagnell, who was there in

charge of his post-horses and four-in-hand), Messrs. Mark Cross,

William Maley (a solicitor), Joseph Goodwin, George Durham, Edward

Dawkes, James Morris the younger, Martin Hughes (who died during the

proceedings), and Richard Walter Chetwynd, Viscount Chetwynd, Baron

Rathdowne. The indictment charged, in its first count, “that they, the

defendants aforesaid, on the 9th day of February, 1841, in the parish

of Holcut, in the county of Bedford, did then and there, together with

other evil-disposed persons, whose names are unknown to the jurors

aforesaid, unlawfully, riotously, and tumultuously assault Edward

Orlebar Smith, clerk, one of the Justices of the Peace for the said

County, and John M’Hugh, one of the constables of the Peace for the

said County, and, then and there, did, in contempt of our said Lady

the Queen and her laws, to the great terror, alarm, and disturbance of

all the liege subjects of our said Lady the Queen thereabouts

inhabiting and residing and being, passing and repassing, to the great

damage of the said Edward Orlebar Smith and John M’Hugh, and against

the peace of our said Lady the Queen her crown and dignity.” The

second count in this formidable document, repeating the names and

verbiage, included the same charges against the defendants for riot

and assault on the person of the Rev. Joshua Cautley. The third count

varied by specifying James Burke as the assailant of the Rev. Edward

Orlebar Smith (whom he never touched in any way). The 4th, 5th, 6th,

and 7th counts merely varied in the names of the parties assaulted, by

substituting “Smith” for “M’Hugh,” and “Cautley” for “Smith,” as the

persons on whom “with force and arms,” the same defendants “did then

and there beat, wound, and ill-treat, and do other wrong, to the great

damage of the said E. O. Smith,” &c., &c., “and against the peace of

our said Lady the Queen her crown and dignity.”

Any one not used to the formal wording of legal documents may well

share the astonishment of the Deaf’un when this astounding rigmarole,

being furnished to his legal advisers (Mr. Vincent Dowling and Mr.

Serjeant Dowling), was read and explained to him. His truthful and

indignant denials of all the serious delinquencies laid to his charge

in this farrago of legal fictions were most amusing. Perhaps the way

in which these were thrown into rhyme, by what old Jacob Tonson, the

bookseller, used to call “a competent pen,” will convey some idea of

the Deaf’un’s objections and denial of the charges:――

ADDRESS OF DEAF BURKE TO THE GRAND AND COMMON JURIES OF BEDFORD.

Pull’d up by _beaks_, before you here I shows,

For what offence, I’m blistered if I knows;

Fam’d thro’ the universe for feats of fists,

Before you stands Deaf Burke, the pugilists.

Yes, honest jurymen, with heart of steels,

I make with confidence my proud appeals,

My case upon its simple merits try――

Let me have justice, and no fears have I.

I ask of you as upright jurymen,

In what have I offended――where and when?

Why of the throng should Burke the scapegoat be

Or Reverend Cautley’s wrath descend on me?

As to the _mill_, I own that I was there――

All went on peaceably, and all was fair;

Arm’d with high courage, strong in heart and limbs,

The men were at the _scratch_ in gallant trims.

And smiling confidence was on their brows,

When Parson Cautley first kick’d up a rows,

And by an effort, frivolous as weaks,

Back’d by a rural _traps_, and Smith the _beaks_,

Sought, and perhaps he deem’d that he was right,

To rush into the ring and stop the fight.

What if the Riot Act was read――Alas!

The Deaf’un couldn’t hear it if it was!

And as far as I’m concern’d it is a facts,

It might have been a sermon or “the Acts;”

But as to swearing, or a hint to drop,

Out of the ring I pitch’d him neck and crop,

Tho’ towards a parson I feel reverence due,

Josh Cautley states the thing that isn’t true.

But let that pass――the issue I’ll not shirks――

Convinc’d your fiat will acquit Deaf Burkes;

Proclaiming that from testimony strong,

The pugilist was right, the parson wrong.

I’ve studied, sirs, since my career began,

To prove myself through life an honest man――

Humble my origin, my lot obscure,

I never came the artful dodge, tho’ poor.

I ne’er gave way to lewdness, nor to lush,

Nor did an act for which I’ve cause to blush.

True, I ne’er figur’d as a man of letters,

But yet I know’d my duty to my betters.

And never deem’d, however mean my station,

Swearing and swaggering pleasant conversation;

Yet, I confess, I lov’d in boyhood prime,

To hear of boxing in the olden time;

Of feats perform’d by those heroic men――

Mendoza, Humphries, Johnson, and Big Ben,

Jem Belcher, Gregson, tough Tom Cribb, and Gully,

Whose hard-earn’d laurels time can never sully.

Fir’d by their deeds, I cried, “Who knows but Burke

May in the Prize Ring some day go to work,

And proud of pluck that never warm’d a curs,

Prove at the scratch an ugly customers?”

Ripe for a chance I fearlessly defied

The sturdiest bruisers by the waterside;

And for the love of glory, not of tin.

To many a hardy cove I’ve pitched it in.

But on my fistic feats I will not dwell,

What I have done let “Fistiana” tell.

* * * * *

These are my triumphs which I now record,

Tho’ floor’d by Cousens, Bendigo, and Ward;

And even with these I fearlessly declares,

I did my best, and acted on the squares;

And tho’ defeated on the field of fights,

I died true game, and show’d no feather whites.

Now, gentlemen, as I stand here before ye’s,

I’ve told a round and plain unvarnished storys――

I love fair English boxing as my life,

But dread the _Arkansas_ blade and _bowie_-knife;

Those weapons deadly, cowardly, and keen,

Which in a Briton’s hand should ne’er be seen,

But which if _beaks_ conspire the ring to crush

Will make the blood of many a Briton gush,

And driving manly fair play from our Isle,

Stamp us a nation of assassins vile!

Now, gentlemen, no longer I’ll intrudes,

But, as I’m bound in duty, will concludes;

And, as you seem all honest mens and true,

What you deem right I’m certains you will do.

On Monday, the 14th of March, the Deaf’un, who had been generously

bailed by a couple of Bedford tradesmen, surrendered to his bail, as

also did eleven others. The Rev. Mr. Cautley, Mr. Orlebar Smith, and

“a cloud of witnesses,” policemen, and others. Tom Spring, in friendly

consideration of the Deaf’un’s incapacity of hearing, stood by him as

_amicus curiæ_, and kindly interpreted the proceedings. It should be

stated that in his examination before Lord Charles F. Russell and the

grand jurors, the Rev. Joshua had stated that “Burke had endeavoured

to force him out of the ring, and had seized him by the leg to throw

him over the ropes.” Of this the Deaf’un (who certainly was never in

the ring at all) was nervously anxious to exculpate himself. What was

his surprise then to learn that “no evidence would be offered on that

point,” and that “the general charge implicated all present in the

same guilt.” Eventually (Viscount Chetwynd having removed the trial of

his indictment into the Court of Queen’s Bench, on the ground that he

could not get an impartial trial in Bedfordshire) the trials were

postponed, and the whole of the defendants were held to bail to appear

at the summer assizes; to them a ruinous expense and miserable

suspense, and the great satisfaction of their Christian prosecutors

and the profit of sundry attorneys; and thus ended the first

“field-day” of “the battle of Bedford.” Other separate indictments,

however, were proceeded with, against Messrs. Brown, of the “Swan,”

Newport Pagnell, George Durham, Edward Dawkes, and Mark Cross, for

“refusing to assist the constable in the execution of his duty.” Mr.

Brown, after evidence by M’Hugh, the Rev. Joshua Cautley, and Mr.

Smith, that in reply to being so called upon, he replied (being seated

on the box of his coach) “that he had to mind his horses,” was found

guilty. The other defendants then, having pleaded “guilty,” were

sentenced each to pay a fine of forty shillings, and costs, and to

enter into recognisances themselves in £40, and two sureties in £20

each, “to be of good behaviour for one year.” The fines were paid, the

sureties given, and the defendants liberated from that charge. In July

the unlucky defendants again surrendered, when their trial was again

postponed to await the result of the _certiorari_ by which the

aristocratic defendants (Viscount Chetwynd and Mr. Maley, the

solicitor) had removed their cases to the Court of Queen’s Bench.

These having failed, in the ensuing November, Burke and his fellow

victims of the law’s delay were placed at the bar. In the interim we

find in the _Bedford Mercury_:――

“PRIZE FIGHT AND LORD CHETWYND.――Lord Charles Russell laid

before the Court a statement showing the position of the

prosecution against Burke and thirteen others, for a riot at

a prize fight at Holcut, in this county, and did so to know

whether the prosecution should be proceeded in. Already an

expense of £50 had been incurred, and probably between £80

and £90, exclusive of witnesses, would be further required.

By a writ of _certiorari_ Lord Chetwynd had traversed the

case to the Court of Queen’s Bench, to obtain the privilege

of not pleading on the trial in the usual way by holding up

his hand. The other parties accused had not been aware of

the object of the course taken by Lord Chetwynd, and were in

the same position as they were before traversing to the

superior court. The county was at a great expense, and the

defendants must have been at double the expense. His

lordship also laid before the Court a correspondence between

Lord Chetwynd and that gentleman, expressing his regret at

what had occurred. Mr. Smith was not satisfied with the

correspondence, and the opinion of the Court was that the

prosecution should be continued, having begun it.

“From this we infer that the Rev. Mr. Smith is not satisfied

with the apology tendered by Lord Chetwynd, and that to

satisfy his feelings, the county and the defendants are to

be involved in a still heavier outlay. To those who were in

no respect consenting to Lord Chetwynd’s determination, this

seems a measure of cruelty for which we were not prepared;

but it would seem that after having already entered into

recognisances to appear and take their trials, and having

strictly and respectfully complied with that undertaking,

from whence they were relieved by no act of their own, they

are again called on to put in fresh bail in the Court of

Queen’s Bench at Westminster, some of them living in distant

parts of the kingdom. This may be necessary in form of law;

but surely, even the Rev. Mr. Smith can have no wish to add

to the hardships of the defendants, who were, and are still

ready to submit to take their trials at the proper season.”

This wretched persecution thus dragged its weary length into the

following year, 1842, when negotiations for a compromise having been

made between the Crown solicitors and those of the defendants, Mr.

Gurney, on the part of “Burke, Adams, Cain, and others,” said he was

instructed to withdraw their plea of “not guilty,” and to accept a

verdict for the Crown against his clients.

Mr. Andrews thereon, on the part of the magistrates, thought the

defendants had pursued a very proper course, and the prosecution was

withdrawn; so that this expensive performance of “Much Ado about

Nothing,” ended by Messrs. Cautley and Smith “taking nothing by their

motion,” the defendants being put to a heavy expense, and an outlay of

some hundreds of pounds (raised by benefits and public subscriptions

of the admirers of British boxing, and the sympathisers with the

unfortunate victims of Puritanical persecution) to the profit of

lawyers. At the opening of these assizes Baron Gurney made the

following significant remark, with which we will conclude these

instructive legal proceedings for the suppression of pugilistic

encounters: “His lordship, in discharging the grand jury, said, that

although the number of cases in the calendar was not greater than was

usual at the spring assizes, yet he regretted to see that the

character of many of the offences was of a most aggravated

description, and that there was no less than six charges of

_maliciously cutting and wounding_ in the calendar. His lordship said

that this offence of using deadly weapons in personal quarrels

appeared to be very much on the increase, that it was a disgrace to

the character of the country, and that it must be put down.”

In May, 1842, the Deaf’un was matched with the Tipton Slasher (William

Perry), but at the fourth deposit, which was appointed to be made at

Owen Swift’s on July 7th, when “Time” was called, and Burke’s

“needful” ready, no one appeared on behalf of the Tipton, and Burke

was thereon declared entitled to the forfeit of the £15 down. Johnny

Broome, as the representative of Perry, afterwards made his

appearance, but Burke’s friends declared the business closed, and

refused to reopen the affair. And thus ended the Deaf’un’s last

attempt to get paired with either of “the big ’uns,” who at this

period preferred their questionable claims to the tarnished honours of

the “Championship.”

“Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen.

Fallen from his high estate,”

poor Jem now became the plaything, but never the parasite, of a knot

of men about town, supplementing their questionable patronage by

giving lessons in boxing, and conducting the room at his early

patron’s (Joe Parish, the waterman and pugilist) who, for many years

after his removal from Strand Lane, kept the “Lion,” at the corner of

Newcastle Street, Strand. The Deaf’un――and we met him often――was

always respectable in appearance and respectful in manner, and out of

his small means supported an aged mother and a humble home.

In his nightly adventures in the vicinity of the Haymarket, Burke was

frequently brought in contact with a big outsider, Bob Castles, well

known at the “playhouses” (not the theatres), in the vicinity of

Leicester Square, at “Goodred’s Saloon,” Jack Rowbottom’s “Finish,” in

James Street, The Elysium, Mother Emerson’s “The Waterford Arms,” and

the numerous nighthouses that then infested and infected the purlieus

of Piccadilly, and disgraced and degraded the very name of a sporting

house. Bob was a great boaster, and on the strength of having stripped

twice in the P.R. (once in August 20, 1827, when he beat Bill Bailey

at Portsmouth Races, and again on April 2, 1828, with Paddy Flynn, at

Colney Heath, when he got “the value of a bating”), he was a sort of

“professional” guide to roysterers out on the spree, and a bully for

those who might hire his services. Bob was, moreover, a great talker,

and, to use a Pierce-Eganism, “flash as the knocker of Newgate.” This

worthy never missed an opportunity of making the naturally

good-natured Deaf’un the butt of his chaff, and even of many rough

practical jokes. On one of these occasions the Deaf’un taking umbrage

at what he supposed to be an interference with some of his “’ticular

frien’s,” quietly warned “Mister Bobs” that if he didn’t mend his

manners “he’d jest punch Mister Bobs’ pimples.” One word begetting

another, and the Deaf’un, considering himself better at an _argumentum

ad hominem_ with the fist than a verbal disputation, dared Castles to

the field; the latter ridiculed the idea, and several of those present

agreeing that a good licking mutually administered might do good to

both of them, a deposit was made to be increased to £50, and that the

veterans should have the opportunity of displaying their courage and

settling their difference of opinion, _secundem artem_, with Nature’s

original weapons. To afford them an opportunity to prepare for their

“trial by battle,” three weeks were allowed for training, and in the

interim the wrathful heroes went under the necessary regimen and

exercises, Burke at the “Five Bells,” Putney, Castles at the pleasant

Hill of Richmond. Monday, June 13th, 1843, was the eventful day.

Castles, as the deposits went on, found no difficulty in collecting

his “coriander seed;” but the poor honest Deaf’un did not find his

friends, however prompt to promise when under the influence of

champagne, so ready when its effervescence had subsided to relieve the

mortified feelings of their _protégé_ by substantial support. Indeed,

he might have miscarried at the time, for, as he told us, he found no

end of difficulty “in raising his winds; all the good ones as used to

do the liberals being gones.” At this juncture Young Dutch Sam kindly

stepped in and posted the “possibles,” but at the expense of several

town visits by the Deaf’un, which consumed hours that would have been

more advantageously devoted to improving his bodily condition. In

truth, Burke had outlived his fistic fame; and, although the hero of

some twenty battles, it was considered that the steel had been taken

out of him, and that his renewed appearance in the milling arena would

be a mere impotent exhibition of departed powers. Despite of the

difficulties he had to encounter, and the low estimate of his

capabilities entertained by many, he sustained the character for

hardihood, steadiness, and cunning tact that served him so well in

days gone by. As to Castles, his height (nearly six feet) and superior

activity were considered strong points in his favour.

At the last deposit it was agreed between Young Dutch Sam and Mr.

Edward Lacey, the host of the “Garrick’s Head” tap――to whom the

fortunes of Bob Castles had been entrusted――that a trip down the river

was the most prudent mode of bringing matters to a conclusion, and for

this purpose the “Nymph,” Woolwich steamer, was duly chartered, and

directed to be moored off Waterloo Bridge on the morning of battle at

eight o’clock. The “skipper” was punctual to his appointment, and soon

after that hour the men and their partisans were safely embarked. Of

the latter the muster was limited, but among them were a few

“Corinthians,” whose appearance belied the conclusion that they had

“risen with the lark,” although we opine they had not placed

themselves in a position to render rising necessary. At a quarter

after eight the craft was under weigh for London Bridge, whence, after

a passing call, she proceeded to Blackwall, and there having taken in

a few of “the right sort,” pursued her downward course. The Deaf’un

was a little crusty on his supposed exclusion from a due share of the

profits of the boat, but in this he was overruled. There was one

point, however, upon which he was inexorable, namely, that, “as he was

outs on a parties of pleasures,” he would “go the whole hogs,” and not

stop short of Gravesend, where he expected to find Young Dutch Sam and

some friends. He had no objection, however, having seen them, to “try

backs, and fight on the roads homes, instead of dropping downs to the

Lower Hopes,” the vicissitudes attending on the last trip to which

locality was still fresh in his as well as our recollection.

Accordingly, to Gravesend the “Nymph” pursued her voyage. Here Sam was

found, but his state of health was such as to render his embarkation

indiscreet. Little time was lost in “putting about,” and finally

dropping anchor at Rainham Ferry, on the Essex shore, nearly opposite

Erith, the belligerents and their followers were quickly landed, and

the coast being clear, the ring was formed on a fine piece of turf

behind the bank, a snug public-house affording the men a convenient

resting-place till all was ready. Of betting on the voyage down we

heard but little, and this at “evens,” the Deaf’un sporting his “last

solitary shilling” on himself.

The Commissary having discharged his functions, aided by Tom Callas,

and provided seats for the limited assemblage of spectators, the

combatants were summoned to the scratch, and forth they came, nothing

loth; Burke attended by Cullen and Jerry Donovan, and Castles by Tom

Reidie and Fuller. On stripping, Burke looked as full in flesh and as

prominent in muscle as when personating Hercules in his celebrated

representation of the Grecian Statues. He stated he weighed 12st.

4lb., and stood 5ft. 8in. Castles was not so heavy, barely weighing

12st.; but he had the advantage in height, being 5ft. 11in; his length

taking from his width, he looked thin, but he was evidently in good

health. There was a speck in one of his eyes, but he said it did not

interfere with his vision, so that there was no fear of his antagonist

getting on his “blind side.” “Richard’s himselfs agains,” said the

great disciple of Shakspeare, and at twenty minutes to two both men

advanced, having previously tied their colours to the stakes (blue

bird’s eye for the Deaf’un, and white bird’s eye for Castles), and

tendering the hand of good fellowship, commenced

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Odds, 5 to 4 on the Deaf’un. A few leary

dodges, each feeling for an opening, and the Deaf’un

expanding his chest and stretching his _pounders_ from

the shoulders, as if to give them freedom and

elasticity. Castles tried his left, but was stopped; he

then kept feeling for his man, the Deaf’un waiting, and

cautious; nearer and nearer till at last they got

within distance, when wild and slight counter-hits were

exchanged with the left, then a rush to in fighting; a

few scrambling hits, but no mischief done, and the

Deaf’un dropped on his knees. On rising, Castles showed

a slight discolouration on the right cheek-bone.

2.――Castles manfully to his work; the Deaf’un quiet and

waiting; Castles short with his left, and the Deaf’un

on the alert; heavy counter-hitting with the left, and

Burke popped in his favourite right-handed hit on the

nut. More counter-hitting with the left; and in the

close the Deaf’un was down, and got up blowing.

3.――Bob, on coming up, showed symptoms of having

received nobbers on the forehead left and right, and

the Deaf’un’s eyes twinkled as if they had been asked a

question. Castles prompt to the call of “time,” and

Burke steadily but slowly to him. The Deaf’un tried at

the mark with his left, but it was a mere tap; Bob

advanced, the Deaf’un retreating till they reached the

corner, when Bob let fly his left, catching it severely

in return. A determined rally followed, and heavy hits

were exchanged left and right; the Deaf’un catching

Castles a severe right-handed hit on the jaw. In the

end, the Deaf’un fell on his knees outside the ropes.

On getting on his “second’s” knees he pointed to his

right arm, as if it had been shaken in the last round.

4.――Castles advanced; but the Deaf’un was in no hurry,

and waited for him; Castles delivered his left on the

Deafun’s sneezer, and got back; an exchange of heavy

hits with the left, and Burke again down on his knees;

he was evidently playing the cautious game.

5.――Burke’s frontispiece slightly disfigured, and a

mouse under his left eye; Castles getting within

distance let go his left, but the Deaf’un hit with him,

and heavy slogging hits, left and right, followed; a

break away, and again to business; when, after an

interchange of hits, the Deaf’un was down, obviously

stung to some purpose, and Castles displayed claret

from his nose, and showed marks of heavy nobbing.

6.――Castles hit short with his left, but getting

nearer, heavy counter-hits were exchanged, when Castles

closed with the view to throwing; Burke attempted to

get down, but Castles held him up by the neck by main

strength for some time with both arms till he dropped.

7.――Castles again a little out of distance; the Deaf’un

waiting, when counter-hits were exchanged, and Castles

closing, caught his man on the hip and gave him a heavy

fall, to the dismay of the Deaf’un’s backers.

8.――The Deaf’un came up slow, and suspicions were

afloat that “a screw was loose,” in fact it was

whispered that his rupture was down, and almost any

odds were offered against him, one gentleman crying 100

to 1, and no takers; Castles strong on his legs and

full of vigour. He was too cautious, however, and did

not go in with sufficient determination; he hit short

left and right; counter-hits with the left, and a

lively rally, which ended in Burke going down,

apparently weak.

9.――Burke came up blowing like a grampus, and again

looking at his right arm as if something was the

matter; he tried a poke at the body with his left, but

did not get home; heavy counter-hits with the left, and

some spirited in-fighting; punishing blows were

exchanged, and in the close, Burke pursued his

getting-down system.

10.――Castles came up with a tremendous bump over his

left eye, which his seconds ascribed to a butt, and

claimed, but the impression was that as Burke always

dropped his head when he hit with his left, his head

had accidentally come in contact with Castles’s

forehead, but without any intention to butt, and the

claim was not allowed. No sooner at the scratch, than

Castles led off heavily with the left; sharp

counter-hitting followed, and in the close, Burke down,

Castles on him.

11.――Castles missed his left, and some severe

in-fighting followed; the hits were quick and heavy;

Castles tried for the fall, but Burke hung on him, and

pulled him down.

12.――Castles popped in a tremendous pop with the left

on the Deaf’un’s mug, and repeated the dose; the

Deaf’un, not to be deterred, returned the compliment,

and rattling hits followed; in the close the Deaf’un

went down. Castles showed a gash on the brow, and was

otherwise seriously damaged in the frontispiece, and

the spirits of the Deaf’un’s friends were reviving.

13.――A magnificent rally, in which the exchange of hits

left and right were really rapid; in the close, Burke

got down; both were seriously contused, and their

phisogs anything but free from blemish.

14.――Burke came up slow at the call of time; Castles to

him, and led off with his left, but was stopped; good

exchanges left and right; the Deaf’un looked groggy,

but stood well up, and exchanged hits till he fell;

Castles also fell, and was evidently feeling the

effects of his quick and heavy fighting; both were

seriously punished.

15.――Heavy exchanges left and right; and in the close,

Burke down weak.

16.――Again did the men go to work with determination,

although Burke was slow to the scratch; Burke delivered

a heavy right-handed fling on Castles’s left ear, which

was much swollen and discoloured, but on Castles

attempting to close, he went down.

17.――Bob planted heavily with his left, but the Deaf’un

stood it like a wood pavement, and dashed to a rally,

in which heavy jobbing hits were exchanged; Castles

grappled for the fall, but the Deaf’un, too leary, got

down.

18.――Castles missed his left, and the Deaf’un rushing

in with his head down, Castles caught it under his arm,

and giving him a Cornish hug, threw and fell heavily on

him.

19.――The Deaf’un slow and weak, and five to one offered

on Castles, who although seriously punished came up

strong on his legs, with nothing like flinching in his

demeanour. Castles missed his left, but the Deaf’un met

him with his left on the nozzle, and drew his cork; a

sharp rally, in which pretty taps were exchanged; in

the end, Burke dropped on his knees, but in the act of

going down, he received a whack on the left brow from

Castles’s right, which opened a seam, and brought the

claret in a stream.

20.――Good stopping, when the men got to a rally, and

hit followed hit left and right, till Burke fell on his

knees. Castles had the bark stripped from his snuffler,

and both displayed such marks of punishment as would

have satisfied any ordinary appetite, and certainly

proved that neither was deficient in thorough game.

21.――Burke’s left eye, which had received a second

visitation, continued to bleed; Castles no sooner on

his legs than to business, and delivered his left well

on the Deaf’un’s nose, drawing his cork; this he

repeated, when the Deaf’un rushed to a close, but

Castles slipped aside, and the Deaf’un fell over on his

head.

22.――Heavy exchanges left and right, the Deaf’un down.

23.――The Deaf’un’s right eyebrow following suit with

his left, both cut, and his nose assisting to form a

trio; heavy counter-hitting with the left, and pretty

exchanges with the right; Castles down, bleeding from

the nose.

24.――A terrific rally, in which the punishment was

pretty much on a par; they both slogged away, till

Burke dropped.

25.――Another severe round; Burke was not to be denied,

and the hitting proved that each was determined to

leave his mark, of which friendly attentions there were

abundant proofs, as both bled profusely, and displayed

a succession of severe contusions, while Castles’ left

eye was fast closing, and the knuckles of his left hand

were considerably puffed.

26.――Castles came up dripping claret from sundry

springs: Burke, slow, waited his approach; Castles led

off with his left, but was stopped; tried it again, and

got home, when Burke rushed in with dire intent, but

missed his blow, and Castles as he passed gave him a

back-handed slap with his left; Burke down on his

knees.

27.――Castles hit short, when Burke rushed in under his

arm, and Castles, trying to grapple, fell over and

beyond him.

28.――Castles, after a little dodging, planted his left;

Burke countered, and caught him another round hit on

the ear with his right; although Burke’s arm was said

to be injured this did not seem to come from a disabled

member, for it shook poor Castles’s dredging box most

woefully; in a scrambling attempt at a close, Burke got

down.

29.――Castles, bleeding copiously, but still determined,

led off with his left, but Burke returned left and

right; Castles, in getting away, fell, and the cheers

of Burke’s friends gave him new life.

30.――It was now clear that Castles’ left hand was fast

going, and from its swollen state it was plain that it

was incapable of much execution; and the Deaf’un, who

seemed rather to gain than to lose his strength, was

the favourite at 6 to 4. The Deaf’un, in no hurry,

waited for his antagonist’s approach; Castles let go

his left, and the Deaf’un poked him in return, and

after some good hitting, the Deaf’un got down.

31.――The Deaf’un still on the waiting suit; Castles not

so quick; he found that his heavy slogging hits made no

impression on the Deaf’un’s iron head; still, after a

pause, he led off with his left, and after a spirited

rally, the Deaf’un was down.

32.――The Deaf’un evidently tired, took his time in

coming to the scratch, and quietly waited for the

attack. Castles at last went to work, and heavy hits

were exchanged, when in the close both were down, on

Castles being lifted up, although dreadfully punished,

he said “he felt strong,” and showed no disposition to

cry “enough;” while Burke was equally dogged in his

determination.

33.――A little artful dodging; Castles let go his left,

but Burke ducked, and got away; Burke in turn rushed

in, but Castles retreated; he then rattled to the

charge, but the Deaf’un slipped down on one knee;

Castles pointed at him with his finger, instead of

hitting him as he might have done, and exclaimed,

“that’s Nick Ward’s game, stand up and fight like a

man;” Burke grinned, shook his bump of combativeness,

and was carried to his corner.

34.――The Deaf’un extremely deliberate in his movements,

and slow to the scratch. Castles not so quick as

heretofore; after looking at each other and dodging,

Castles shot out with his damaged left, but was

stopped; a rally and counter-hits exchanged, when Burke

again got down on his knees; Castles pointed at him

derisively, but the Deaf’un “took a sight” with both

hands, and flourished his digits; Castle walked to his

corner, mortified at Burke’s dropping, while Burke was

carried to his.

35.――Castles’ left hand getting worse, and he did not

seem inclined to lead off so quickly as heretofore; the

Deaf’un ogled the damaged fin with great satisfaction,

and, after a short pause, led off with his left, and

planting his blow got down on his knees; Castles looked

“unutterable things,” and, after regarding him for a

moment, gave him a contemptuous slap on the cheek, at

which the Deaf’un smiled, as much as to admit he was

playing “the artful dodger.”

36.――The Deaf’un a decided favourite, and 2 to 1

offered on him. He was clearly the stronger man, while

his left hand was still sound and in working order; on

getting up he waited quietly for the attack, looking

slyly down at Castles’ fist; Castles offered to

commence, but the Deaf’un retreated; a considerable

pause, when Castles led off: the Deaf’un countered

heavily, and after a sharp rally, in which some severe

exchanges took place, the Deaf’un again got down, still

playing the old soldier.

37 and last.――The Deaf’un pursued his waiting game, and

was clearly gaining strength; Castles also paused and

was in no hurry to begin; the Deaf’un rubbed his chest,

and then his thatch with both hands, and grinned, as

much as to say, “I’m in no hurry.” Castles tried a

feint with his left, but if would not do; the Deaf’un

was wide awake, and showed that he was determined not

to throw a chance away. Castles tried his left at the

body, but the blow was not effectual, at last he let go

at the Deaf’un’s head, and a brisk rally followed, when

the Deaf’un finished the round by giving Castles, for

the first time, a heavy fall. This was the closing act

of the drama. Castles found his opponent the stronger

man, and, from the state of his left hand, feeling that

he had not a chance, he prudently determined to give in

at once, declaring that fortune was on the side of his

opponent, and he had not the power to turn the scale.

The Deaf’un immediately approached, they shook hands,

and all was over in _one hour and ten minutes_.

Both men were immediately conducted to the contiguous public-house,

where every attention was paid to them, and where their wounds were

dressed, and their contusions reduced as much as possible. Poor

Castles was heavily punished, his left eye in total eclipse; his face

exhibited not a square inch without a mark, and a deep incision over

the right eye showed the severity of the Deaf’un’s hitting. His left

hand, too, had become perfectly useless; in truth a more perfect

specimen of a courageous and undaunted submission to hard hitting we

have never witnessed――the best evidence that if by nature timid, by

force of mind he resisted all approach to the charge of cowardice, a

species of valour even more creditable than that which mere instinct

and the gift of creation has planted in the carcases of many animals.

Burke had also what he called his “shares;” but with a hardier and

more robust frame than Castles, as well as a head that might vie in

quality with the rind of a cocoa-nut, his sufferings were not so

severe. Yet we doubt whether in any of his former encounters his

receipts were of so severe a character; he confessed he got much more

than he expected, and was disagreeably surprised at finding “Mister

Bobs so dangerous a customers.”

Castles lost this battle principally from his eagerness in the latter

part of the fight, and a want of judgment in not hitting and getting

away. He was too fast, while the Deaf’un cunningly waited and popped

him as he came in, thus giving a sort of double impetus to his

deliveries. Had Castles rattled in with more determination when Burke

was amiss, about the eighth round, the issue might have been

different. Burke felt his position, and had recourse to all the

strategems of an old soldier, husbanding his strength, getting down,

and never attempting to wrestle or unnecessarily exhaust his powers;

by this means he preserved his physical energies, and made the best

use of them at the proper time. Castles, on the contrary, was always

first to the call of “time,” and till the last few rounds “made all

the running,” thereby realising the fable of the hare and the

tortoise. In trying to throw the Deaf’un, too, he diminished his

powers; still, with all this, we are inclined to think, had his left

hand not given way, a result almost inevitable from the frequent

repetition of heavy hits on the Deaf’un’s granite nut, he would have

come off victorious; as it is, with all his faults, he proved himself

superior in pluck and moral courage to most of the modern men of his

weight, and deserved the generous consideration of those who prize

such qualities. The Deaf’un showed unflinching game throughout, and

fighting up-hill as he did, with his right arm seriously, though not

fatally damaged, he proved that “all was not lost that was in danger;”

and that in confiding in his tact his admirers were not trusting to “a

broken reed.”

The battle money was given to Burke at Young Dutch Sam’s, the “Old

Drury Tavern,” Brydges Street.

The re-embarkation followed in good order, and all reached Waterloo

Bridge at seven o’clock――the combatants proceeding under the care of

their friends to their respective quarters. As an appropriate

_pendant_ to the prosaic version of this “crowning victory” we append

A TRIUMPHANT EPISTLE FROM DEAF BURKE TO BOB CASTLES.

My sarvice, friend Castles, once class’d with the nobs,

We’ve finished our fights, and we’ve settled the jobs;

I founds you a customers ugly and stout,

And I’m blest if my works wasn’t neatly cut out.

We’ve both of us passed, and no doubts on’t, our prime,

And good sarvice we’ve seen in the Rings in our time;

Fortune’s smiles and her frowns we’ve been destin’d to weather,

But ne’er, as I knows on, displayed the white feather.

Your friends chose to say I’d no relish for whopping,

And censure as currish my systems of dropping,

Declare by good men such a course was abhorr’d,

And a leafs I had prigg’d from the books of Nick Ward.

Now I humbly begs leave at sich nonsense to grin――

One objects I had, and that there was to win;

And who’er at my tictacs may fancy a fling,

Such dodging’s all fair by the Rules of the Ring.

On strengths and on plucks do men place sole reliance?

Is nothing allow’d for manoovers and science?

The systems of getting away would you fetter?

Why, Bobbys, my tulips, you knows a deal better?

Too fast with your rush you were constantly in,

Till I gladly observed you had damaged your fin;

Now, says I to my pals, you may alter your tones,

For I see clear as muds that the games is my owns.

And yet I received of hard hitting a gluts,

You pepper’d my pimples, and damag’d my nuts;

I never suppos’d you could come it so rough,

And well pleased was I when you sing’d out “enough!”

I’m sure you’ll allow, after triumphs achiev’d,

I wasn’t so stale as some folks has conceived;

Who swore that my powers pugilistics were spent,

And I couldn’t inflict in fresh butter a dent.

That I’ve not the same powers I’m free to deplore,

As when I floor’d Byrne and a great many more;

All out-and-out fancy boys, fearless and free,

Then the Deaf’un aspired to be top of the tree.

But lush and late hours, ’twould be folly to doubt,

For a time wore my frame and my energies out;

First Bendigo gave me a punishing dose,

And I then by Nick Ward was consign’d to repose.

Yet tho’ peaceful the course which for some time I shap’d,

I felt that my gas had not wholly escap’d;

My luck once again I was anxious to try,

And with a true trump to turn out for a shy.

The rest, Bobs, we knows, and I scorn all self praise,

And I’d troubles sufficient the needful to raise;

And, faith, I had almost despaired of a fight,

When Young Dutch Sams came forward, and made it all right.

Then we’ll meet at his cribs, Bobs, and go the whole hogs,

In despatching his malts, his Virginny, and grogs,

And as the pure drinkables mount to our brain,

In “luck to the Rings” the bright pewters we’ll drain.

And I’ll teach you to hact, both abroad and at home,

The statutes of Greece and the statutes of Rome!

I’ll teach you, Bob Castles, to understand traps,

And make you a classical sorts of a chaps.

And whether clean’d out or well breech’d with the stump,

In wars or in peaces you’ll find me a trump,

And whoever agin you foul slanders may hazard,

Shall have from this mauley a tap on the mazzard.

Then good-bye for the present――I wish you all _mércies_;

You see I’m no bad one at tagging of werses,

And ready at all times for going to vork,

I’m yours, without any more gammon,

DEAF BURKE.

This was the last “flare-up” of the Deaf’un’s pugnacious spirit.

Late hours and long fasts, alternated with creaming sillery,

lobster-salads, devilled biscuits, ditto kidneys, and a deluge of

meaner liquors, soon reduced poor Burke to a shadow of his former

self, and he died of consumption on the 8th of January, 1845, in

Francis Street, Waterloo Road. His good qualities were his own, his

vices the grafting of his so-called “betters” in society.

[14] In _Fistiana_ (edit. 1864), Burke’s fight with

Fitzmaurice is set down as having taken place on June 9th,

1834; _i.e._ thirteen months after the Deaf’un’s fatal

affair with Simon Byrne, and is so placed. It occurred five

years earlier, in 1829, as above narrated.

[15] Omitted from the list of Lazarus’s fights in

_Fistiana_, but inserted under Brown.

[16] Butting was not yet prohibited, and was frequently

resorted to when a man wished to escape from the hug of a

fibbing or wrestling adversary.――ED. PUGILISTICA.

[17] This is also prohibited by modern rules.――ED.

[18] This highly reprehensible system of carrying men up to

the scratch was subsequently entirely done away with, as

also the system of allowing minute time, another mischievous

practice, which, by giving men more time, enabled them to

recover sufficiently to stand and deliver blows long after

their strength and stamina were exhausted. These alterations

took place after the fatal fight between Owen Swift and

Brighton Bill, and were attended with most beneficial

results. Half-minute time only was allowed by the New Rules,

and if a man did not _walk to the scratch_ in eight seconds

after time was called, he lost the fight.