CHAPTER IV.

WILLIAM PERRY (“THE TIPTON SLASHER”) 1835-1857.

Although this ungainly specimen of a boxing athlete first saw the

light, in the year 1819, in the town of “the Black Country” from which

his _nom de guerre_ was derived, he came to London and worked in its

neighbourhood at an early age; for, in the year 1835, he was well

known in the neighbourhood of Battersea Fields and Chelsea as a

“lumping lad” who, despite the drawback of “a K leg,” could hit, stop,

and use his “fives” with formidable effect. In November of that year,

we read in a sporting paper:

“The admirers of milling in the military village of Chelsea,

where the ‘saloon of arms’ of Alec Reid is a centre of

attraction, were all alive on Tuesday, from the arrangement

of a ‘field day’ to decide the best-man question between two

pugilistic heroes of the locality. These were Barney

Dogherty, a sprig from the Emerald Isle, and Bill Perry, a

young navvy, whose displays with his digits, if not quite

scientific, are determined and dangerous. Perry was backed

by a sporting butcher, Dogherty by a circle of his

enthusiastic countrymen. In weight the Emeralder had the

advantage of nearly a stone. Each man was waited on by a

member of the P.R., and the regulations of the Ring carried

out.

“The fixture was Wimbledon Common, whither miscellaneous

groups were seen wending their way at an early hour; but the

police scouts were wide-awake, and on reaching the intended

scene of action it was ‘no go,’ and the disappointed crew

looked as blue as their enemies. A move became inevitable,

and new ground was taken opposite the ‘Ship’ at Mortlake.

Here the men set to, but after seven rounds, all in favour

of Perry, the lobsters were again on the scent, and another

retreat was made towards Barnes Common. Here also it would

not do――the pursuers were on the heels of the ‘flying

dustmen,’ and a helter-skelter sort of march took place over

Putney Bridge. Here a council of war was held, and it was at

last agreed to march for Lechmere Common, close to the

sporting grounds of the Baron de Berenger, in the King’s

Road. Here all was right――a fresh ring was formed without

interruption, and the sport was resumed and concluded.

“On squaring elbows there was a good deal of sparring, and

Perry dodged left and right. After some heavy exchanges and

a rally, Barney was down weak. The fight was prolonged for

six rounds more, during which Perry had it all his own way,

punishing Barney terrifically; still the poor fellow came up

as game as a rhinoceros, and would not give in till his

seconds, seeing he had not a chance, cried ‘enough,’ and his

friends were all satisfied he had done his best to win.

“Dogherty turned out to be too stale for active operations;

added to which he is slow and awkward in his style of

setting to. Perry is a scientific hard hitter, but with such

a man as Alec Reed, in his day, he would not have had a

chance. Still, in the present state of the Fancy, he is not

to be sneezed at. It was expected a second fight would have

taken place between Middlesex Ben and the Winchester Pet,

but the former was ‘shopped.’ Perry can be backed with

anybody who may envy his honours, and the money will be

ready at the ‘Lowndes Arms,’ King’s Road, on Tuesday

evening, where Alec Reed gives sparring lectures for the

benefit of the rising generation.”

Such is the account of “The Slasher’s” _coup d’essai_, after which he

seems to have found no candidate for his favours for a twelvemonth,

and to have worked his way towards his native place. Here his fame as

a fistic practitioner was pretty generally acknowledged, and a party

of Birmingham boxers, having among their number Ben Spilsbury (not

Charley, who fought Johnny Broome), being in the town of Tipton

exhibiting the art, young Perry put on the mufflers with that

professional. Though the Tipton lad was not so clever as the Brum, he

displayed such determination, and got so well “on” to his man, that an

observation that, “if in earnest,” Mr. Ben would have to play second

fiddle, led to an offer on the part of a Brum to post a “tenner” upon

the experiment. “A friend to sport,” at the request of Perry, covered

the two sovereigns deposited; and as the Christmas holidays were

approaching, December 27th, 1836, was named as the day of battle.

After taking some little liberties with the Tipton in the opening

rounds, for which he occasionally caught a fearful right-handed

visitation, and was rallied down, Spilsbury kept so completely _à la

distance_ as to deprive the contest of all interest, and finally, at

the end of the 19th round, “cut it,” leaving “The Slasher” in

possession of the field and the stakes.

[Illustration: WILLIAM PERRY (“THE TIPTON SLASHER”)]

After this defeat of Spilsbury, it would appear that the sobriquet of

“The Tipton Slasher” had become the accepted title of William Perry,

for in a local (Staffordshire) paper we find him so described, as

being matched for £25 a side against one Jem Scunner, who is described

as the “Gornel Champion,” a six-foot specimen, weighing 13st. odd, and

therefore a fair opponent in height and weight for our hero. The

report is especially meagre, merely informing us that “the battle

commenced on Tuesday (Nov. 22, 1837), near Gornel, but was not decided

until the following day.” The betting at setting to was 6 and 7 to 4

on the Gornel man. After a few rounds, however, the Gornelites claimed

the fight for their man on the ground of a “foul,” but the referee

would not allow it, and Scunner, by the advice of his friends, would

not go on. A rush to the ring was made, and the referee retired. It

was asserted that Perry fell without a blow. After some wrangling, the

referee ordered that the fight should be renewed on the next day, at

Kingswood, near Wolverhampton. There both men showed at the time

appointed, and lost no time in getting to work. During the first four

or five rounds the Gornel man rushed at the Tipton like a wild bull,

but Perry waited for him, shifted cleverly on his crooked leg, and

delivered straight blows and upper-cuts with such slashing effect that

the Gornelites were utterly paralysed. From this time Scunner betook

himself to out-fighting; but here he took nothing by the change,

except prolonging the fight. At the end of one hour the Gornel

Champion, having been hit down or thrown in five or six successive

rounds, was finally floored in the 31st round, and deaf to the call of

time. Tass Parker, of West Bromwich, and Preston, of Birmingham,

seconded Perry; Surrender Lane and George Gallant, of Birmingham,

waited on Scunner. The match exciting much interest in the Potteries,

Perry, with Parker, became the “lions” of the neighbourhood; the

Fountain Inn, at Tipton, the Slasher’s headquarters, being crowded by

the Fancy of the Midlands at their benefit on the ensuing Monday.

The defeat of Jem Scunner, who had an immense, though undeserved,

local reputation, in a period when the dearth of good big ’uns was

remarkable, spread the fame of the prowess of the Slasher so widely

that he was fain to wield the shovel in laborious obscurity, instead

of flourishing his ponderous mauleys in the 24 foot. In the interval,

“the Deaf’un” had returned from Yankeeland, and――despite his two

successive defeats by Bendigo (Feb. 12, 1839) and by Nick Ward (Sept.

22, 1840)――owing to Bendigo’s accident, and Caunt’s announced absence

in America, boldly claimed the Championship. Johnny Broome hereupon

sought out the Slasher, and calling to his aid some patrons of the

Rising Sun, he proposed a “trial by battle,” to settle the difference

of opinion. Burke’s backers came to the scratch with their rhino, for

a battle to come off in August, 1842, but at the fourth deposit Broome

thought fit to absent himself upon the night of “posting the

possibles” at Owen Swift’s, and the Slasher’s money down was

confiscated to the extent of £15.

The Tipton, as we know, was a mere tool in this affair, as in other

instances, of the over-cunning Johnny Broome, who, like most

self-sufficient sharps, often “cut before the edge.” Johnny had other

views of the “dark horse” which he flattered himself he had in his own

stable, and, as he didn’t find the money, the poor Tipton suffered in

reputation (as Johnny intended he should do) by this forfeit. The

Editor of _Bell’s Life_, too honourable himself to suspect this

double-dealing, observes: “Though Broome was certainly late, this

insistance on forfeit seems very sharp practice; the more so as the

same gentleman who backs Perry actually assisted Burke with his first

deposit. The forfeit, however, has yet to be taken by Burke’s backers,

as he has nothing to do with it beyond their approval, and we may yet

find that the last and remaining deposits will be posted, and ‘the

ball go on.’ We have since received a letter from the gentleman who

put £4 of the first deposit down on behalf of Burke, when the match

was made, stating that he will not consent to the forfeit being

received, and expressing his desire that the match may proceed, as his

only wish is to encourage the manly sports of the Ring.”

But Johnny was determined to be off with the match, as he had not

found Brassey, of Bradford, so “tenderly led by the nose as asses

are,” and he had now in view a grand _coup de poing_, to play off

against the unquestionable “blaze of triumph” achieved by Ben Caunt in

the circus and theatre line, by the introduction of what might be

called the “illegitimate” drama in place of, and to the eclipse of,

the exhibition of “legitimate” British boxing. In this fairly-planned

vindication of the art from mere bulky pretenders, Johnny was

certainly to be praised; but as his choice of a champion was

“Hobson’s,” and limited to such an inferior tactician as the game,

rough-and-ready Tipton Slasher――to oppose immense weight, superior

length and activity, backed by a creditable reserve of courage and

self-possession, and moderate skill in sparring――the enterprise was

certainly ill-judged. Of its progress and issue we shall now have to

treat.

In the year 1842, a sensation was created by the return of Ben Caunt

to England, bringing with him a seven-foot specimen of humanity, of

the name of Charles Freeman. There can be little doubt, from

subsequent events, that Ben brought over his gigantic _protégé_ purely

as a showman’s speculation; and that Freeman, with his immense length,

strength, and bulk, had as little pretensions or inclination to boxing

as any non-combative member of the Peace Society could desire. Ben,

however, seeing how “big things” carried it in Yankeeland――the country

of “big things,” of which he, himself, was certainly one――imported the

“American Atlas” as his sparring opponent; and if he might infer

future success from their first few nights at the Queen’s Theatre, in

Liverpool, when not a seat was to be had in a few minutes from the

opening of the doors, the Lancashire people, at any rate, were willing

to patronise the show.

Freeman, during several months, not only exhibited at the Queen’s

Theatre, Lyceum, Olympic, Adelphi, Victoria, and other theatres, halls

and assembly rooms, where a great feature of the entertainments was a

caricature of boxing by the giant and Big Ben, but the non-sporting

papers were flooded with ridiculous paragraphs, several of them

offensively setting forth the wonderful powers and prowess of the

American gladiator, and in some instances asserting the “scare”

produced among the English prize-fighters by the advent of the New

World Goliath. We need hardly say that Freeman himself was entirely

innocent of this silly braggadocio, which emanated from the Barnum

managers of these performances, and the speculators who at this time

degraded the character of the decadent Ring, and prostituted its true

aim――the encouragement of courage and skill――to their own profit and

plunder. Johnny Broome, then in the full tide of his prosperity,

called a meeting at his house, the “Rising Sun,” Air Street,

Piccadilly, where, after the reading of some of these “puff

paragraphs” about “Championships of England and the World” (Ben Caunt

modestly claiming the first, and liberally presenting his prodigious

pal with the other), it was proposed to bring these pretensions to a

practical test by a challenge for £100 a side from “a novice,” to be

hereafter named by Broome. On the following week, at the adjourned

meeting, Tom Spring presented himself, on the part of Caunt, and

stated the latter to be ready to make a deposit for Freeman. Spring

further said that Freeman had not come to this country with any

intention to fight; his pursuits were quite different; he, therefore,

had challenged no man (this was so; but many of his placards contained

a challenge to any and every man); nevertheless, he had determined not

to refuse this challenge, and, therefore, his money was ready. Harry

Broome, on the part of his brother Johnny, who was from home, covered

the deposit, and the Thursday evening following was named for drawing

up articles, at the “Castle,” for a further deposit, and for naming

“the novice.” Freeman and Caunt were both present, and the crowd

immense. The giant and his mentor, Ben Caunt, arrived late, owing to

an accident on the rail near Weedon. Broome proposed to defer naming

“the novice;” but this being insisted on, or a forfeit claimed,

“William Perry, of Tipton,” was nominated as the “great unknown,” and

the following articles “signed, sealed, and delivered”:――

“Articles of agreement entered into this 29th of September,

1842, at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, between Charles Freeman

and William Perry of Tipton. The said Charles Freeman agrees

to fight the said William Perry, a fair stand-up fight, in a

four-and-twenty foot roped ring, half minute time, according

to the New Rules, for £100 a side, on Tuesday, the 6th of

December, half-way between Tipton and London. In pursuance

of this agreement, £20 a side are now deposited in the hands

of the stakeholder; a second deposit of £10 a side to be

made on Thursday, the 6th of October, at Johnny Broome’s; a

third deposit of £10 a side on Thursday, the 13th of

October, at Johnny Walker’s; a fourth deposit of £10 a side

on Thursday, the 20th of October, at Jem Burn’s; a fifth

deposit of £10 a side on Thursday, the 27th of October, at

Tom Spring’s; a sixth deposit of £10 a side on Thursday, the

3rd of November, at Johnny Broome’s; a seventh deposit of

£10 a side on Thursday, the 10th of November, at Tom

Spring’s; an eighth deposit of £10 a side on the 17th of

November, also at Tom Spring’s; and the ninth and last

deposit of £10 a side on Thursday, the 1st of December, at

Johnny Broome’s. The said deposits to be made between the

hours of 8 and 10 o’clock, p.m., or the party failing to

forfeit the money down; a toss for choice of ground to take

place on the night of the last deposit. The men to be in the

ring between the hours of twelve and one o’clock, or the man

absent to forfeit the whole of the stakes. Two umpires and a

referee to be chosen on the ground, the decision of the

latter in the event of dispute to be conclusive. In case of

magisterial interference the referee, if chosen, to name the

next time and place of meeting, or if the referee be not

chosen then the stakeholder to name the next time and place

if possible on the same day; but the money not to be given

up until fairly won or lost by a fight; the winner to pay

for the ropes and stakes. Should any money be given for the

privilege of the fight taking place in any particular

locality, such money, if agreed to be accepted, to be

equally divided between the men.

“(Signed) “CHARLES FREEMAN.

“JOHN BROOME (for W. PERRY).”

Offers were made to take two to one on the Yankee, but nothing more

than six to four could be obtained. The match excited extraordinary

interest, and set all the Americans in town on the _qui vive_. They

viewed the success of Freeman as a result already almost attained.

After a round of “appearances,” “benefits,” “soirées,” “entertainments,”

&c., to which the well-advertised fact of being “matched” lent

additional attractions, both men went into training, Freeman at Frank

Key’s, the “Duke of York,” Gannick Corner, near Barnet, and the

Slasher in the first place at our friend Jemmy Parsons’s, at Hampton,

and subsequently at Ould Tom Owen’s, at Northfleet, Kent. A

contemporary paper thus announces the coming event on the previous

Saturday:――

“Freeman has been assiduously attended by his friend Ben

Caunt, and has been ranging up hill and down dale like the

celebrated giant Gog, in his ‘seven-league boots,’ with

staff in hand and followed by ‘a tail,’ which, from the

length of his fork, generally keeps a respectful distance in

his rear. Although his nob has been roofed with a shallow

tile, to diminish the appearance of his steeple-like

proportions, he still has the appearance of a walking

monument, to the no small alarm of the squirrels in Squire

Byng’s park, into whose dormitories he occasionally casts a

squint of recognition. By his good humour and playfulness of

disposition he has won all hearts, and has been a welcome

guest on whatever premises he has cast anchor in his walks,

which have seldom been less than twenty or thirty miles a

day. He has been extremely attentive to his training, and

has been much reduced in flesh, while his muscular

developments stand forth with additional symmetry. On his

arrival in this country he carried some twenty-three stone

‘good meat,’ but we doubt whether on Tuesday he will much

exceed eighteen stone. His drawers and fighting shoes have

been built with a due regard to ease and elegance, and the

latter have been seasonably aired by being lent to a cat and

kittens as temporary nurseries. He already sports his blue

bird’s-eye fogle, and, without vaunt or unseemly bounce,

seems to think his chances of success are planted on a good

foundation.

“The Slasher has been under the care of Johnny Broome, whose

brother is constantly with him, and was removed on Tuesday,

for some reason not explained, from Hampton to Northfleet.

We have not seen him, but he is described as in fine

condition, and in high spirits. He will weigh, we hear,

between thirteen and fourteen stone, stands six feet high,

and is a well-proportioned, muscular fellow (always

deducting the ‘baker-knee,’ which destroys the perpendicular

of his pedestal). His flag of cream colour ground, with the

union-jack in the centre, bearing the words ‘Old England,’

and the rose, the thistle, and the shamrock in the corner,

the whole inclosed in a blue border, has been unfurled at

Johnny Broome’s, and has found numerous supporters on the

usual terms, ‘a sovereign or nothing.’ The betting within

the last week has varied; in some places the Slasher has

been taken for choice, in others Freeman has been the

favourite at 5 to 4, at which price a good deal of business

has been done. The final deposit was made at Johnny

Broome’s, in Air Street, Piccadilly, on Thursday evening, in

the presence of a goodly muster. Neither of the men was

present. Betting was slack, 5 to 4 only being offered on

Freeman; but after some breathing a ‘supposed green,’

offered 30 to 10 on the Giant, at which Johnny Broome

snapped, as well as 20 to 10 immediately after from the same

innocent, who said he had £50 to lay out and was satisfied

with a small profit. This, however, did not advance Freeman

much in the betting, for, after a good deal of ‘screwing,’

higher odds than 6 to 4, and this reluctantly, could not be

obtained. In consequence of a private agreement between the

backers of both men, the appointed toss for choice of ground

did not take place.”

There had long been a complaint in the Fancy circles of the dearth of

“great men;” if “great” be synonymous with “big,” then this was a

“great fight.” How far it deserved that epithet the reader will

shortly be able to decide. The Slasher had never been credited with

scientific qualifications, and “the American Giant” was remarkable

solely for his prodigious bulk and weight-lifting pretensions, never

having fought a prize battle before. The match, we are inclined to

think, arose rather from a desire to put the pretensions of “the

Yankee _critter_” to the test than from any belief that a man could be

found capable of successfully competing with such “a mountain of

humanity;” the more especially as Ben Caunt, the Champion of England,

had signified that he and Freeman were sworn friends, and were,

therefore, unlikely to come in hostile collision. Johnny Broome was

consulted as to whether he could find a man willing to try his hand

with the Giant, and he at once answered in the affirmative, experience

having afforded him opportunities of estimating the game and muscular

qualities of the Slasher, who was perfectly willing to make the

experiment. It was under these circumstances the challenge was given

and accepted. This was the position in which matters stood when the

match was made, and in due course the men went into training, each

taking every pains to improve his stamina and physical qualities. We

may here remark that, in the opinion of competent judges, the mere

fact of Freeman being so much taller and heavier than his opponent was

not regarded as an argument in favour of his real superiority. In

truth, we have seen, and over and over again been led to believe, that

a man standing six feet high, and weighing between twelve and thirteen

stone, with muscular power and activity in proportion, is the _beau

ideal_ of manly perfection; and that anything beyond this is mere

surplusage, seldom, if ever, of any real advantage, as has been

remarked of most of the giants who have been exhibited as objects of

curiosity. We must admit, however, that for his size, we never saw a

man so symmetrical in all respects as Freeman; there was nothing

unwieldy or awkward in his appearance. In point of muscular

development and strength, too, we are persuaded there was not his

equal, and in point of activity and lightness, and springiness of

action, he was not less to be admired; in fact, his early career was

in the equestrian school, where, among other feats, he rode two horses

at once, at the same time balancing a man with his arms above his head

as he galloped round the circus, added to which he was renowned for

the number of somersaults he could throw in succession. In lifting

weights, too, on more occasions than one, he has raised fifteen cwt.

from the ground. With all these appliances, however, there yet might

be a want of animal courage and natural powers of enduring punishment

and fatigue; and in the absence of any criterion upon which an opinion

on these latter points could be formed, considerable doubts were

entertained of the probable issue of his battle with the Slasher, who

was known to possess fearless intrepidity, great bodily strength, some

science, and sufficient height and weight to entitle himself to be

ranked among the most dangerous of our modern millers. Hence the

betting, which seldom exceeded 5 to 4 in favour of Freeman, did not

prove him to have inspired any extraordinary confidence in the minds

of his friends, of whom, from his really unassuming conduct, civil

deportment, and good temper, he had many.

We may here state that the wisdom of not ascribing too much merit to

superior bulk derived confirmation from scientific calculations made

by Mr. Hutchinson, a surgeon of eminence, who made some curious

experiments by means of hydraulic and other instruments to ascertain

the constitutional powers of human beings, founded on comparisons of

the strength of their lungs, by respiration and inspiration, the state

of their pulse, capacity of chest, height, weight, &c. Mr. Hutchinson

submitted both Freeman and Perry to his tests, and the result of his

observation was, that although Freeman’s admeasurement was

extraordinary in every respect, yet, comparatively, when the

dimensions of both men were taken into account, the balance of bodily

power, strength, and endurance was in favour of Perry, who Mr.

Hutchinson considered more calculated to sustain fatigue and

punishment than his gigantic antagonist. Mr. Hutchinson, of course,

admitted that the inference which he thus drew may be defeated by

accidental or other causes; but looking to the mere animal qualities

of the men, such was his conclusion. That his hypothesis was fairly

tried cannot be asserted, for, as will be seen, both men left off, so

far as we were capable of judging from the darkness which prevailed,

pretty much on a par, whether as respects punishment or fatigue.

It will be borne in mind that at the making of the last deposit, the

toss for choice of ground was dispensed with, Spring, on the part of

Freeman, and Broome, on the part of Perry, having determined on the

probable locality. It was felt desirable to preserve the secret as

long as possible, and it was not till Monday that the direction was

generally known, when a trip by the Eastern Counties Railway to the

borders of Hertfordshire and Essex was announced, with an intimation

that a simultaneous departure by the half-past nine o’clock train to

Sawbridgeworth (about seven and twenty miles from London) would suit

all purposes, and prevent any unnecessary bustle at the immediate

scene of action. Notwithstanding the secrecy which had been observed,

however, some few “go-carts” with their motley inmates were seen going

down the road the night before, and thus a hint was given, of which

the police took advantage; and hence, being on the alert, the

attendance of a magistrate was obtained, and much trouble and

inconvenience, as the sequel will show, were experienced. In the

interim both men arrived in town at their respective head-quarters,

Freeman at Tom Spring’s, and Perry at Johnny Broome’s, so as to be

ready for their morning start, and both houses were crowded to excess.

With the dawn all were in motion, and by eight o’clock the London

terminus of the chosen railway was besieged by visitors. Many of these

brought drags, which were placed upon the trucks, while others trusted

to the “chapter of accidents,” which proved to have a very wide range,

for the means of conveyance. Among the first arrivals were the Tipton

Slasher and his friends, who thus took time by the forelock, so as to

be near the point of rendezvous in due season. This division agreed to

alight at Harlow station, as the train did not pull up at

Sawbridgeworth, which was, however, but two miles further, within

convenient toddling distance, and thither all proceeded. On reaching

the fixture a damper was thrown on the prospects of the travellers.

The superintendent of police was found at his post. He had received

orders from London to prevent hostilities, and to this was added the

fact that Mr. Phillips, a Hertfordshire magistrate, was in readiness

to “keep the peace.” In this unpleasant dilemma all waited till the

arrival of the half-past nine o’clock train, in which came Freeman,

Tom Spring, Caunt, and a vast accession of the Fancy. Fortunately

there was a carriage and four horses waiting the arrival of Freeman,

and after a short deliberation it was resolved to move on to Hatfield

Heath, about four miles further, in the county of Essex, and the

“office” being given, away all went in that direction――the great

proportion on their ten toes, for conveyances were out of the

question――and the roads being heavy the pilgrimage was far from

agreeable, especially to “the London particulars,” who were unprepared

for such a journey. For this unexpected tax upon their patience there

was no remedy, and on they went till the desired goal was reached. On

the road there were some few mishaps, but still all were cheered on by

hope. The Commissary lost no time in examining the intended field of

battle, which he found swampy, and far from desirable; but there was

no help for it, and he was about to form a ring when a fresh alarm was

given. The Sawbridgeworth police superintendent and Mr. Phillips, the

magistrate, once more presented their ill-omened countenances, and

plainly declared their determination to prevent the fight taking place

either in Essex or Hertfordshire This was a poser. A council of war

was held――suggestions of all sorts were offered, and a great deal of

time was lost. Cambridgeshire, the adjoining county, was deemed too

distant to be reached in time, and more especially by the pedestrians;

and at last it was determined to “try back,” and return towards

London; Broxbourne, on the borders of Middlesex and Essex, being

agreed on as the point of re-assemblage.

This point settled, a general move took place towards the nearest

stations――the toddlers to Sawbridgeworth, and the charioteers to

Bishop Stortford, there to repack their nags and drags, while the beak

and his co-partner, considering that a move had been made to get out

of their bailiwick, also moved off. On reaching Bishop Stortford a

fresh resolution was formed. “While the cat’s away the mice will

play;” so, as the conservators of propriety were no longer present, it

was urged that the ring might be formed in the place originally

intended, half a mile from the Sawbridgeworth station, not far from

the same field in which Turner beat Scroggins, in June, 1817, and

scarcely more distant from the scene of Oliver’s conquest over

Shelton, in 1820. No sooner said than done; and, in the absence of

those who had promised to avoid the county of Hertford, at half-past

two o’clock all agreed to drop down to the place from whence they

came, with the exception of the Commissary, Freeman, and his friends,

who took the main road in a carriage kindly yielded to them by the

Right Rev. the Bishop of Bond Street, who also hospitably furnished

their larders with a very welcome supply of roast fowls and other

“combustibles,” of which their “inward men” stood beseechingly in

need. In the interim the Slasher threw himself on a bed at Bishop

Stortford, and all who had wisdom took some hasty refreshment. On

again reaching Sawbridgeworth we were informed that the lists were

formed, and a competent guide being found, all set out along the

towing-path of the canal to a very eligible site, about half a mile

off, on an elevated piece of ground admirably calculated for the

purpose. The evening was now fast approaching, for it was nearly four

o’clock, and it was hoped there would be still daylight sufficient to

decide which was the better man. The privilege tickets were

distributed, and in a short time everything was arranged for the

commencement of hostilities.

All being in readiness, Freeman entered the ring in high spirits,

attended by Caunt and King Dick, and was received with loud cheers.

Rumours were now afloat that the Slasher did not mean to come, and

sovereigns even were offered to be laid that there would be no fight.

In the interim horsemen were sent off to Sawbridgeworth station to

urge the approach of the missing man, who it was known had been left

there in charge of Broome. Matters thus remained in doubt for some

time, and great impatience began to be manifested, when it was

announced, to the great joy of the spectators, that the Slasher was

coming――and come at last he did, amidst the encouraging shouts of his

friends. He lost no time in entering the ring, and was immediately met

with a friendly shake of the mauley by Freeman. The Slasher was

attended by Ben Terry and a provincial friend named Tom Parker. No

time was now lost in “trimming” the men for battle, and their

superfluous “feathers” were quickly removed. Both appeared in high

spirits and eager for business. Umpires and a referee having been

chosen, the ring was cleared out, and the “privileged” dropped

contentedly on the damp earth, with such preservatives to their

sitting places as circumstances would permit; but it must be

acknowledged that these were far from satisfactory, owing to the

difficulties to which the Commissary had been exposed in the various

transfers of his _materiel_.

On being stripped and placed in juxtaposition, the towering height of

Freeman presented a most formidable aspect, while the muscular

development of every limb, and the broad expanse of his chest and

shoulders, gave him the appearance of herculean strength. His weight,

without his clothes, we understood was but little above seventeen

stone, for it was remarked that during the last week of his training

he rather diminished than increased in bulk. Still, he was in high

spirits, and moved about with elastic and graceful step. In the

following July he would be 23 years of age. The Slasher also wore a

cheerful smile on his mug, which betrayed the fact that he had already

lost some of his head rails. From his hips up his bust displayed great

muscular power, but being in-kneed, there was less of symmetry in his

figure than in Freeman’s. On throwing himself into position, however,

this was scarcely perceptible, and he may be described as a model of

burly strength. He appeared to be, and said he was, in excellent

condition, and, judging from his cheerful index, there was no want of

self-confidence. His height six feet, his age twenty-three, and his

weight 13st. 4lb.; but notwithstanding the fearful odds against him,

he evidently regarded the coming struggle with gallant indifference.

Of betting there was but little――5 to 3 was offered but not taken, and

the only bet we heard laid was one of 6 to 4 on Freeman.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Precisely at seven minutes after four o’clock the men

were conducted to the scratch, their fogles having been first

tied to the corner stake, and having shaken hand with great good

humour, the seconds retired to their corners. The towering height

and gigantic proportions of Freeman led all to suppose that he

would endeavour to fight down his opponent; but, as will be seen,

this anticipation was not fulfilled. The Slasher stood on the

defensive and Freeman broke ground, hitting out with his left;

from this the Slasher retreated, when Freeman followed him

quickly, popped in his left and right slightly, and the Slasher

was down. Freeman laughing, and no mischief done.

2.――The Slasher again to the scratch, when Freeman led off left

and right; the latter blow got well home, and dropped the

Slasher. _First knock-down_ blow for Freeman; but no damage done,

as the Slasher received it when retreating.

3.――The Slasher made play, and tried his left on Freeman’s body,

but was stopped. Freeman rushed to him, the Slasher retiring and

hitting short and wild. Freeman popped in his left and right,

caught the Slasher in his arms, and threw him with ease.

4.――The Slasher, on the defensive system, dodged a little,

delivered his left on the ribs, in getting away he fell, and thus

escaped Freeman’s return.

5.――Freeman hit out left and right, but the Slasher ducked his

head and fell on his knees.

6.――The Slasher on the dodging system, stepped back; Freeman

after him to the corner, where there was a wild rally, in which

hits right and left were exchanged. The Slasher got within

Freeman’s long arms, gave him a tidy smack with his right on the

left eye, and got down. (_First blood_ from Freeman’s brow, and

the Tipton lads uproarious.)

7.――The Slasher, the first to fight, hit out left and right, but

was stopped. Freeman slashed away left and right but without

precision, and after some trifling deliveries the Slasher got

down.

8.――The Slasher popped in his left on Freeman’s ribs, and got

away; Freeman after him, when the Slasher closed. Freeman lifted

him clean off the ground, but was unable to get his arm loose to

fib, and after a short struggle the Slasher slipped from his

grasp and got down.

9.――The Slasher again led off with his left at the body, and in

getting away fell from accident or design. [Cries of “foul” and

“foul” was claimed on the part of Freeman; but the referee did

not feel himself justified in stopping the fight, and “time” was

called.]

10.――The Slasher again tried the artful dodge, rushed in to hit

with the left at the body; but Freeman seized him in his powerful

feelers, held him up for a short time, and finding he could do

nothing at in-fighting fell on him, but not so as to do him any

mischief.

11.――The Slasher as lively as a grig popped in his left on

Freeman’s arm and got away; Freeman followed, gave him one, two,

left and right The Slasher broke from him, and delivered his

right on his shoulder; then getting away, fell to avoid.

12.――The Slasher once more led off with his left, but was short.

Freeman after him delivered left and right; the Slasher down.

13.――Freeman popped in his left, The Slasher retreated and fell.

14.――Freeman again planted his left slightly. The Slasher adhered

to his retiring system. Freeman followed him to the ropes, and

after a scrambling exchange of hits the Slasher got down. Freeman

pointing at him derisively with his finger and laughing.

15.――Freeman hit left and right, and the Slasher rushed in and

caught him round the body, to try for the fall; Freeman held him

up completely off the ground by the neck, then chopped first with

the left and then with the right; the Slasher hit up left and

right, and caught Freeman on the mouth with his right; and after

a short struggle was thrown, Freeman on him.

16.――The Slasher again tried his left at the body, but was short,

the blow falling slightly on Freeman’s arm. Exchange of blows.

Freeman with the left on the nob, and Slasher on the shoulder

with the right, which sounded, but was of no effect. Slasher, in

retreating, fell.

17.――Slasher came up on the defensive, but Freeman hit him down

with his left.

18.――Slasher again popped his left at the body, but was hit down

with a counter-hit from Freeman’s left. Freeman fell on him, and

foul was claimed by Slasher’s party, but not acknowledged, as it

was obvious the fall was accidental.

19.――Slasher hit Freeman on the shoulder with his right, and in

return caught it left and right as he retreated. Slasher returned

to the charge with his right, and fell.

20.――A wild exchange of blows, but not effective, and the Slasher

slipped down in retreating.

21.――[Twenty-three minutes had now elapsed, no real damage done

on either side, and both as fresh as when they commenced.] The

Slasher popped in his left on the body, and stepped back; Freeman

after him, hit left and right, and the Slasher fell.

22.――Freeman delivered left and right; the Slasher was short in

his return, and again received two pops left and right, and fell.

23.――Freeman delivered left and right, and Slasher down.

24.――Freeman led off with his left. The Slasher popped in his

left on the mark and tried to drop, but Freeman caught him round

the neck and held him up some time, and then let him fall,

tumbling over him. (Another claim of foul not allowed.)

25.――Freeman popped in his right on Slasher’s left eye; the

Slasher countered on his shoulder, when Freeman caught him with

his left, and the Slasher was down.

26.――Freeman again planted his left; and, on Slasher rushing in,

caught him in his arms, held him for a second or two, and fell on

him.

27.――Freeman popped in his left, and dropped his man with his

right.

28.――The Slasher hit short with his left, and renewed the dodging

system, playing round his man. Freeman tried to nail him, but he

got away, hit out with his left at the body, and fell without a

return. [Another claim of foul for Freeman, not admitted.]

29.――Slasher hit at the body with his left and broke away,

Freeman after him, all for mischief, caught him on the hop, and

hit him down with his right.

30.――The Slasher delivered his right on Freeman’s shoulder, broke

away, and tried it with the left on the body, but was stopped.

Freeman let go left and right, but the Slasher ducked his nob,

escaped, and fell.

31.――The Slasher again in with his left on the ribs and away;

Freeman after him, caught him on the pimple, and he fell.

32.――The Slasher hit short left and right, and was hit down with

Freeman’s left.

33.――The Slasher pursued his left-handed game at the body, but,

in getting away, was hit down with a touch from Freeman’s left.

34.――The Slasher missed left and right, caught it left and right,

and was down.

35.――[It now became so dark that it was difficult to see what was

doing in the ring, and the spectators came closer to the ropes.

The partisans of the Slasher were extremely uproarious, and one

of them especially was constantly interfering with the umpires,

called “time” when it was not time, and was guilty of other most

offensive and unfair conduct.] The Slasher, as usual, led off

with his left at the body, but without effect, and in return was

hit down.

36.――The Slasher hit short with his left, and was hit down by a

counter from Freeman’s left as he was getting away.

37.――Slasher planted his favourite body blow with the left, but

without producing any visible effect; Freeman did not seem to

feel it, and he was again down.

38.――Trifling exchanges with the left, and the Slasher down.

39.――The Slasher rushed in to make another effort for the throw,

but Freeman again seized him in his powerful grasp, fibbed, and

fell with him, but not on him.

40, 41, 42, 43, 44.――Slasher down in every round, but apparently

no mischief done, and as far as the glimpse of light left would

permit, we could discover no distinct mark of punishment on

either man.

45.――The Slasher delivered his left at the body and fell, as if

from the force of his own blow. Freeman fell over him, but

evidently with a desire to avoid falling on him. [Another appeal

was made to the referee on the ground of the Slasher falling

without a blow, but the referee declared it was impossible to

form a correct opinion, and expressed a strong wish that the

fight should either be drawn or adjourned, but to this neither

party would accede.]

46, 47, and 48.――The Slasher down in each round, and Freeman

manfully avoiding falling on him.

49.――The Slasher in with his left on the body, but as he

attempted to retreat Freeman caught him in his arms, held him for

some time, occasionally chopping, and at last fell forward on

him, but too much over to produce any consequence.

50.――The Slasher showed some fatigue, but came up full of

confidence. He delivered his left at the body, but did not get

well home; Freeman caught him left and right, and he went down to

avoid further mementoes.

To describe the remaining rounds would be an idle attempt, in

fact it became so dark that the men were only visible from the

light colour of their skins and drawers. The Slasher pursued his

dodging, getting away, and falling system, occasionally making

his left and right hits at the body and shoulder, and sometimes

appearing to recoil from the effects of his own blows, but

without producing any turn in his favour. Freeman hitting left

and right, and now and then seizing his man, lifting him up, and

flinging him down, but almost invariably avoiding falling on him;

in one instance actually making an arch over his carcase, his

head and legs on the ground, amidst the acclamations of the

throng. In the last few rounds there was an evident attempt to

draw Freeman into the Slasher’s corner, round which a desperate

set of ruffians had collected, who, by the most offensive

vociferations, endeavoured to intimidate and alarm him. He,

however, kept his temper, and came up every round cool and

collected, grumbling only at the Slasher not standing up to

fight. In the 69th round the Slasher exclaimed, “I’ve got you

now, old fellow!” but the words were scarcely out of his mouth

when Freeman hit him down with his left. The darkness, combined

with a fog, now became so intense that it was impossible to see

what was doing from one side of the ring to the other. The

referee declared his utter inability to form any judgment of the

character of the fight, and, unable to get both umpires to agree

on the expediency of putting an end to the battle, he jumped into

the ring, and, getting between the men, declared he would not

permit them to prolong the contest. At this moment both men were

fresh and vigorous, and each seemed disinclined to leave his

chance of victory in doubt, Slasher especially, who said he

considered he was robbed of the fight, while Freeman laughed, and

said, if they were permitted to proceed, the result would perhaps

prove he was mistaken. The referee was, however, peremptory, and

both men were taken from the ring after having fought _seventy

rounds_ in _one hour and twenty-four minutes_. They walked away

as fresh as when they began, with a mutual desire that they might

renew the combat the next day at twelve o’clock, at such place as

the referee might appoint, to which the latter assented, as there

did not appear to be anything in their appearance to justify a

further delay in the gratification of their desires.

REMARKS.――It is much to be regretted that this curious encounter

was not brought to a more satisfactory conclusion, inasmuch as

the merits of the men still remain undecided; and so evenly had

their pretensions been balanced in the minds of their respective

friends that each party declares, had time and circumstances

permitted, their favourite must have been crowned with victory.

How far these conclusions may be well or ill founded we will not

pretend to say; but certainly we feel justified in giving to both

men an equal proportion of praise, so far at least as their game

qualities are concerned. It is true, we may be disposed to take

exception to the “getting down” system which was adopted by the

Slasher, but then it must be borne in mind he fought at fearful

odds both as regards weight and length, and could never hope

successfully to compete with such an antagonist unless by a

degree of caution and cunning, which with a man of his own inches

would have been unjustifiable and amounted to cowardice. There is

no doubt that occasionally his dropping after delivering his

blows had too much the appearance of being at variance with our

notion of “a fair stand-up fight;” but then the ground was

slippery, and he asserts that when he did fall it was from the

recoil of his own blows or from his being unable to keep his feet

in endeavouring to avoid the tremendous return which he had

sufficient reason to expect. That this was provoking to Freeman

we can well imagine; but, under all the circumstances, we do not

think it detracts from the game qualities of the Slasher, who

certainly came up from first to last undismayed, and with a manly

determination to win if he could. Of his scientific

qualifications we cannot say much. If he possessed any they were

reserved for a future occasion. He never attempted to stop the

blows which were showered on his canister, and throughout

confined himself to attempts to disable Freeman by body blows

from his left or round hits with his right. The former

occasionally reached their destination with sounding effect, but

we are inclined to believe they fell more frequently on Freeman’s

arm, which was dropped to catch them, than upon his more

vulnerable corpus. That some of them might have got home we are

inclined to believe, but it was clear they did not produce any

serious consequence, for on examining the Giant’s body

subsequently we were surprised to find so few symptoms of

forcible collision on his ribs, while we discovered sundry

bruises on his fore and upper arm, which showed these had been

exposed to heavy visitations, and no doubt stopped numerous kind

intentions which, had they reached their destination, would have

been far from agreeable. With the right the Slasher was

unsuccessful, as it generally fell on Freeman’s left shoulder,

and with the exception of the cut on the left eye, which gained

first blood in the sixth round, this weapon did not produce much

damage, for the only other punishment visible was a slight

scratch and swelling on the under lip, which was produced by the

upper cut in the fifteenth round. In his attempts to throw, the

Slasher had not the most remote chance of success, for when the

attempt was made Freeman lifted him completely off the ground and

threw him as he pleased, occasionally going down with him, from

overbalancing himself. Throughout the fight it struck us that the

Slasher showed no symptoms of distress, except after the struggle

in which he was suspended between heaven and earth for some time

in Freeman’s grasp, and was then thrown, Freeman falling on him.

With respect to Freeman, although a novice in the milling arena,

it must be admitted that throughout he showed great coolness and

presence of mind. He never lost his temper, and was only

indignant that the Slasher would not stand up to receive his

sledge-hammer compliments. It struck us, however, that with

immense power he wanted judgment in its application. His left and

right hits were straight and well directed, but he failed in

countering with his left, for had he let fly at the same moment

that the Slasher tried his left at the body, the consequences

would no doubt have been serious. He too frequently suffered the

Slasher to lead off and get away, so that in following, his blows

did not tell with half the effect. Of this there was sufficient

evidence in the little impression he made, there being no

material damage discernible on the Slasher’s countenance beyond a

slight cut on his left brow, and a few contusions which

afterwards produced discolouration――a black eye included. We

learn also that he received sundry raps on the head and neck, out

of sight, which required the aid of leeches to allay

inflammation. His left hand, too, was a good deal puffed.

Freeman’s left thumb was also injured, and from the force of one

blow was actually put out of joint; but the dislocation was

reduced, and little harm arose from this. There is no doubt that

many felt astonished, after witnessing so many apparently heavy

deliveries followed by instant prostration, that more decisive

consequences were not produced. It must be borne in mind,

however, that Freeman hit against a yielding object, which of

course offered little resistance, and fell from the slightest

concussion. Had the Slasher hit with him, or stood firmly on his

legs, the effect would have been different; and many of his hits

were rather shoves or pokes, instead of coming well from the

shoulder. The tumbling system of the Slasher cannot be pursued

with impunity, and if it be clearly shown that he falls without a

blow, there will be less hesitation in condemning him to defeat,

as he must now perfectly understand the distinction between

accident and design.

The sports thus most unsatisfactorily concluded, and the excitement

which prevailed having subsided, those of the throng who remained to

the last――for a great number had already taken their departure――began

to speculate on the best mode of getting home. So intense was the

darkness that it was almost impossible to distinguish your best

friend, although close at your elbow; and the calls for Bill, Tom, and

Harry resounded in all directions, with unsatisfactory responses of

“Here; where are you?” and so forth. Then came inquiries as to the

best mode of reaching the station. Some by guess, who thought they had

marked the road they came, ventured to set out on their journey, and

were soon heard floundering in the ditches or swamps into which they

had wandered, and roaring lustily for relief. Others employed the

yokels as guides, and thus they went, in connected chains, pursuing

their devious paths. The Bishop of Bond Street, who had magnanimously

resigned his carriage to Freeman, was foremost among the unfortunates,

and went floundering on through mud and mire, but cheerfully

submitting to all manner of casualties, till he reached the

Sawbridgeworth station, where he was joined by hundreds of others,

some of whom had got into the canal, others into dreary swamps, and

all more or less miserable, but still happy in having escaped the

perils to which they had been exposed. Complaints were loud and

numerous; and verily some of our friends presented piteous specimens

of human misery, with pretty certain prospects of future suffering

from colds and other ills to which flesh is heir. A great number got

off by the six o’clock train, but many had to remain for that which

followed, and did not reach their destination till a late hour. There

were but few carriages on the battle-field, and these were with

difficulty piloted to the main road, and by that route either to the

Harlow station or to the Metropolis. The Slasher with difficulty

reached Sawbridgeworth, where he obtained requisite refreshment; and

Freeman, equally fortunate, got to the Harlow station, and in a room

of one of the attendants found “a good Samaritan,” who attended to all

his wants. He was in good spirits, and but little the worse for wear.

Caunt and Spring paid him every attention. The numerous assemblage

here, half famished, had to send half a mile for the means of

satisfying their appetites, and bread, cheese, and beer were in

anxious requisition; to these a lucky contribution of a Yorkshire ham

and sundry chickens, from the hamper of a swell drag, proved a most

acceptable addition for a party of “the select.”

Before the departure of the train, the Slasher, accompanied by Johnny

Broome, arrived at the station, and the proposed renewal of the battle

on the ensuing day, at twelve o’clock, was discussed. Broome foresaw

the difficulty in which he would be placed to afford due information

of the whereabouts to some of the Slasher’s backers who had gone to

London, and who were more desirous than ever of witnessing the

termination of the contest. At his request, to which Spring did not

object, it was settled that a meeting should take place the next day

at four o’clock, at the house of the referee, to arrange this

important point. The Slasher was unusually bounceable, and asked

Spring if he was disposed to add a hundred to the stakes. A reply in

the affirmative was instantly given, but the challenge evaporated, and

nothing more was done. The arrival of the up-train put an end to

discussion. All were soon embarked, and away they were whisked to

Shoreditch. Freeman arrived at the “Castle” about half-past nine,

where an immense crowd greeted his return; and the Slasher, in the

same way, could scarcely obtain ingress to the domicile of Johnny

Broome of which he is, just now, the “Rising Sun.”

The next day Spring attended, at the time appointed, at the place of

rendezvous, but Broome did not make his appearance till an hour after.

In the interim, with a view to give each man sufficient time to

resuscitate his energies, the referee appointed the following

Thursday, between twelve and one o’clock, for the renewal of the

combat; the “whereabouts” to be communicated to the backers of each in

time to enable them to reach their destination without inconvenience.

On the next morning both men went back to their training quarters to

prepare for the coming struggle. An earlier day could not have been

named without interfering with the arrangements for the mill between

Maley and M’Grath, which was fixed for the ensuing Tuesday between

London and Manchester.

On Wednesday evening Freeman left London in company with Caunt,

Spring, and his trainer, and put up at “The Bull” at Royston, his

movements being kept a profound secret. Broome, for some reason, would

not take his man to Royston, but preferred travelling, with a few

friends only, by an early Eastern Counties train to Bishop Stortford,

and thence posting to Littlebury, Essex, the appointed place for

meeting, though it was privately arranged that Cambridgeshire should

be the _locus in quo_ the affair was to be finished off. That

quietness, and therefore secrecy, was pretty well observed, we may

note that on Wednesday night there were only eight strangers in

Royston, and five only in Littlebury, including Dick Curtis. The

Commissary, and his assistant, Broome, having given the “office” for

Bishop Stortford, a goodly number of the London division came down by

later trains, and the demand for drags, post-horses, or indeed

anything on wheels or four legs, became astonishing. Broome, Slasher,

and party arrived at Littlebury in a carriage with four posters in

more than good time.

Meantime, Freeman and his friends remained quietly at Royston, and it

was not until Thursday morning that the Commissary received a

despatch, directing him to have the ring formed, before twelve

o’clock, at Triplow Heath, Cambridgeshire, on the spot where Bungaree

and Sambo Sutton last fought――eight miles from Littlebury and three

from Royston――where, it was added, Freeman would be present at that

hour. Word of these arrangements was to be sent to Broome. All this

was strictly attended to, and the ring was accordingly formed without

interruption. Thus all looked well; but just before twelve o’clock, up

rode Mr. Metcalf, a neighbouring magistrate, who by “some chance” had

got “a letter,” and who, quitting his “toast and ale,” thought it wise

to interfere. He at once said the fight must not take place on that

spot, and a courier was sent forward to apprise Freeman of the ominous

interruption. Freeman had come in sight of the ring at the moment, and

a general halt took place, a small cavalcade having been formed by a

few of the right sort, who had posted by way of Ware and Buntingford

to Royston, and a respectable troop of mounted yeomen. A consultation

immediately took place, and Haydon Grange, within two miles of the

spot, in the neighbouring county of Essex, over which Mr. Metcalf was

said to have no jurisdiction, was selected. Thither the materiel was

quickly transferred by the Commissary and his assistants, and by one

o’clock all was again “in apple-pie order” on the top of a hill, and

on a spot particularly eligible for the purpose. Care was taken to

provide for the due direction of the Littlebury divison, and a

gentleman provided with Spring’s stop-watch kindly remained on Triplow

Heath to note the time of the Slasher’s arrival, to prevent any

mistake as to the road he was to take. This gentleman remained till

after one o’clock, but no Slasher appeared, although all those who had

come by the same train trotted briskly forward to the new location.

Other scouts were left, but it was nearly two o’clock before any

tidings were heard of the absentee. The ring being perfect, all were

impatiently deploring the loss of time, during which the fight might

have been commenced, continued, and perhaps concluded. During this

unfortunate lapse offers were again made to take 2 to 1 there would be

“no fight,” and some who had passed Broome on the road reported that

he had declared he did not intend to be in the ring till two o’clock.

Spring claimed forfeit, on the plea that the Slasher was not at the

place first appointed between twelve and one, according to articles;

but the referee refused to admit this claim, on the ground that the

ropes and stakes had been removed, and Freeman had not thrown his

castor within them. Had it been otherwise he would have had no

hesitation in agreeing that the claim would have been well founded. At

last the agreeable intelligence was received that Broome had arrived,

and he entered the ring out of breath, asserting that he had been

detained for the want of post-horses, but that he was at Triplow Heath

at seven minutes before one――a statement which the gentleman who

remained on the Heath to meet him positively denied. He then said that

he had only been told the place of fighting on the morning before.

Still the Slasher did not appear; and two o’clock having arrived,

Spring said he would only give five minutes more, and should then

consider Freeman was entitled to the money if the Slasher did not

arrive. Within the time specified Slasher was brought slowly to the

field of battle, having, according to Broome’s account, taken from

seven minutes to one to five minutes after two to come very little

more than two miles. Cheerfulness succeeded wrangling, and all looked

well for the gratification of the throng, who had come far and near to

witness the battle. Umpires were chosen, privilege tickets

distributed, the ring effectually cleared out, and Freeman threw his

tile into the arena――an example which all anticipated the Slasher was

about to follow――when to the dismay of everybody, in marched Captain

Robinson, the superintendent of police, who had ridden a steeplechase

across the country, attended by an orderly. This authority

emphatically announced that he had warrants for the apprehension of

both men, and would not permit the peace to be broken, adding it was

not wise to attempt such amusements in a county in which the character

of the new police for vigilance was at stake; but worse than all, to

secure obedience to his behest, he called upon Tom Spring and Tom

Oliver, in the name of her most gracious Majesty, to assist him in the

discharge of his duty! This was indeed a settler; and to watch the

physiognomies of the two Toms on finding themselves thus suddenly

metamorphosed into constables would have given food for speculation to

the most astute student of Lavater. “Blow my dickey!” exclaimed the

Commissary, “so I’m to act as a special, am I?” “This bangs

Bannagher!” said Spring, looking as black with his right eye as if he

had knocked it against Caunt’s fist. Parley, however, was out of the

question, for Captain Robinson said his own reputation as well as his

appointment were at stake. A belief existing that Captain Robinson

would be content with preserving the peace of his own county, Essex, a

resolution was formed to try Cambridgeshire once more. “Bock agin,

Sandy,” was the cry; and away went the pioneers of the Ring through

the lower part of Royston, on the road towards Bedfordshire, where

fresh ground was sought. But a new beak was started from his lair on

the road, in the form of a Royston banker, who peremptorily said it

should be “no go.” Some disposition arose to question this gentleman’s

authority in Cambridgeshire; but all argument was at an end on the

arrival of Captain Robinson with his assistants. He plainly told the

assemblage that it was in vain for them to attempt getting the fight

off in Hertfordshire, Essex, Cambridgeshire, or Bedfordshire, for he

was empowered to act in all, and must stick by them till night if they

remained. This was conclusive. “To the right about,” was the word, and

away all returned to Royston. There was some talk of stopping all

night, to fight the first thing in the morning, to which the Slasher

said he was agreeable; but a gentle whisper having been given that if

the belligerents stopped longer in that neighbourhood the warrants

might be enforced against them, a general retreat was ordered, and

away the Cockney division scampered――Broome, with the Slasher, back to

Chesterford, from whence they had had their last relay of horses――and

Spring, Freeman, and friends, by Buntingford to London. All were too

late for the trains, and thus many remained on the road all night,

while others did not reach “the village” till a late hour. Again were

hundreds collected in front of Spring and Broome’s houses to know the

result, among whom conflicting accounts were afloat till the authentic

courier arrived and diffused fresh dissatisfaction.

The chances, changes, and fortunes of this incongruous match were thus

sung in some contemporary verses, of sufficient merit to warrant their

preservation.

THE UNFINISHED FIGHT OF THE AMERICAN GIANT

AND THE TIPTON SLASHER.

Freeman, of giant frame! to thee a welcome warm we gave,

When wafted to the British shores across the Atlantic wave;

In harmony we saw thee move with gallant champion Caunt,

As muscular as Hercules, and tall as John of Gaunt.

We hail’d thee of thy countrymen the model and the flower,

And modest was thy bearing, though possessed of giant power;

Against thee Slander never dar’d her poisoned tongue to wag,

And never was it thine to bounce, to bluster, or to brag.

You came not to our land the gauntlet down to fling.

Here to no conquest you aspired within our battle ring,

But ready to come forward still at Friendship’s special call,

To take a fragrant pipe of weed and cordial cup withal.

“But yet I love my native land, and scorn each action base,

And never _Craven_ act of mine a _Freeman_ shall disgrace;

Whoever dares me to the fight, by no proud threat’ning scar’d,

Will find me anxious still for peace, and yet for war prepared!”

“By Heavens!” cried Johnny Broome, “my pink, tho’ nothing you’re

afraid of,

I have a Novice in the Ring who’ll try what stuff you’re made of;

Deposits shall be duly made, and matters go on snugly,

And there you’ll meet a customer as rum as he is ugly.

“One who professes bull-dog game I to the scratch will bring,

Welcome to whom is punishment as flowers in early spring;

One who in contest fierce and long, ‘Enough!’ has never cried,

But rushes forward to his man, and will not be denied.

“The same to him is Briton bold and Transatlantic foeman,

With courage at the sticking-place like ancient Greek or Roman;

Regardless still of body hits, or on the snout a smasher,

BILL PERRY is the trump I mean, the slaughtering Tipton Slasher!”

“Bravo! bold Johnny,” Freeman cried, “then to your text be steady,

Fixed be the time, as well as place, and Freeman’s tin is ready;

Into condition get your friend as early as you can,

And trust me I will do my best to floor your Tipton man.”

The heroes trained as fine as stars, with gallantry untam’d,

And in December’s dreary month the day of fight was nam’d;

“Who heeds,” the Slasher cried, “dark days, cold blast, or storm?

We’ll have sufficient work cut out to keep our systems warm.

“Tho’ twixt the Giant and myself the difference is great,

I care not for his stature high, I care not for his weight,

Nor for his wondrous length of reach does Perry care a whit;

And where so huge a carcase shows, the easier ’tis to hit.”

Thus to Big Caunt the Giant cried, “My friend, ’tis time to trot,

But bear me witness ere we start, this fight I courted not;

My manly foe, I do not doubt, possesses thorough game.

But if he falls ’tis he alone and Johnny Broome to blame.

“Tho’ with your gallant countrymen peace was my only aim,

Boston, New York, and Washington my prowess can proclaim,

And never in my proud career white feather did I show;

Nor ever cut a friend in need, nor shrunk before a foe.”

December sixth in darkness broke, the dawn was chill and damp,

And numerous Fancy toddlers betimes were on the tramp;

Corinthian swells and commoners made simultaneous rush

To Sawbridgeworth, in Hertfordshire, through muck, and mire, and

slush.

But how the beaks in wrath proclaim’d, amid the motley race,

That no prize fight or milling match should then and there take

place;

And how the pugilists themselves looked very down and blank,

While the spectators made a move both retrograde and flank――

And how they managed after all to give the traps the slip,

And hastening back to Sawbridgeworth prepared at once to strip;

How seventy gallant rounds were fought ’till deepening shades

of night

With its extinguisher forbade the finish of the fight――

And how the assembled multitude with sundry rueful shrugs,

Homeward retraced their weary way with disappointed mugs;

And how in Despond’s dismal slough a lot of worthies fell――

Next week the bard of “London Life” will accurately tell.

But tho’ no victory was achieved by well intended thumps,

Both men have proved undoubted game, and turn’d out genuine trumps;

And all uninjur’d and unscath’d in Tuesday’s battle fray,

Slasher and Freeman both survive to fight another day.

The referee having been called on to name the next time and place, the

parties interested met at his house the next day (Friday). The Slasher

was present, and expressed an anxious desire to have the fight over;

he declared he had no wish to evade the meeting, and was quite ready

to fight the following day (Saturday). To this Spring replied that as

the Commissary had not yet returned to London with the ropes and

stakes, and as his whereabouts might not be known in time, the

proposal would not be accepted. The Tipton objected to a long delay,

and as Bungaree the Australian and M’Ginty were to fight on the

following Tuesday, it was suggested that both couples should be “asked

out” at the same place and time. It was then found that the backers of

Bungaree and his opponent had selected a locality where it would be

most imprudent for such noticeable men as the Giant and Slasher to

show themselves without certainty of interruption. The Bungaree

division, however, proposed to alter their plans and effect an

amalgamation, by jointly hiring two steamboats for the conveyance of

the men and their friends to the field of battle――that the vessels

should leave London Bridge on the Tuesday morning at eight o’clock,

and proceeding down the river, pick up the “big’uns” at places

appointed; and that, with the view of securing the absence of

undesirable voyagers, two sets of tickets of contrasted colours should

be issued by Spring and Broome only, no person to be admitted on board

except those presenting the one for the downward the other the

homeward voyage.

On the next day, Saturday, Freeman took a benefit, previously

announced, at the Westminster Road Baths, the immense area of the

“Mechanics’ Bath” being crowded to excess. That these affairs, of

which there was too much at this period, were profitable speculations

may be gathered from the fact that exclusive of free admission and

tickets sold elsewhere, £178 was taken at the doors, although the

performers were the humbler outsiders of the Ring, with the exception

of Freeman (who showed, but did not set to, in view of the impending

contest) and Caunt, whom Tom Spring kindly assisted by putting on the

gloves with him. Although Big Ben showed some improvement, his style,

as compared with the accomplished ex-champion of a long bygone day,

could not fail to awaken unpleasant comparisons in the minds of such

men as Mr. John Jackson, old Tom Cribb, and Thomas Belcher, all of

whom were recognised at this gathering Freeman, who stripped, had not

a bruise upon his body, and except a little swelling of the lip and an

injury of the right thumb, bore no marks of the recent encounter.

On Tuesday, December 20th, 1842, at 8 a.m., we embarked on board the

“Father Thames” steamer at the Old Swan Pier, London Bridge, Freeman

having been put on board from a row-boat half an hour previously,

while the vessel lay in midstream, and privately ensconced in the

after-cabin, his immense stature being rightly considered as placing

him in great peril of arrest if exposed to the public gaze. At

Blackwall the Slasher came on board, looking rough and hardy in the

sou’wester and blue frieze of a river pilot. The other combatant

couple, M’Ginty the Scotchman, and Bungaree the Australian, had

quietly embarked at London Bridge. The company on board, about four

hundred in number, was truly representative of the Ring patrons of the

day. A Scotch marquis, two or three scions of the peerage, a

sprinkling of military men, a veteran “salt,” sundry hunting and

university men, doctors, barristers, with some sporting clubbists from

“the sweet shady side of Pall Mall” and the dingy smoking snuggery of

the now resplendent “Limmer’s,” formed the “upper-crust.” The Church,

of course, was not represented, unless we may enumerate the Right Rev.

the Bishop of Bond Street in that category. That facetious worthy was

indeed prominent, and, with the forethought gained by long experience,

had brought on board a capacious hamper, accompanied by a handsome

basket of white willow, which, to the delight of the Corinthians, who

formed “the excursionists” thus “personally conducted,” disclosed at

an after period a wealth of game-pie, pigeon-pie, chickens, ham,

tongue, salad, and the various comestibles for which Fortnum and Mason

are renowned. That the white willow basket was a worthy auxiliary of

the big hamper “goes without saying.” “Schnapps,” in several

square-shouldered and short-necked bottles and flasks, cognac, sherry,

and a battalion of silver and gold-necked champagne, came forth at

intervals in such succession as made us think that the Bishop had

really the supernatural gift boasted by Glendower, “I can call spirits

from the vasty deep,” and that “they do come when I do call them.” But

we are anticipating. The “old familiar faces” of Ned Painter, from

Norwich, Tom Spring, Peter Crawley, Oliver, and Burn were on deck,

together with Adams, Johnny Walker, Langham, Orme, Parker, Johnny

Broome and his brother Harry, Tom Maley, Jemmy Shaw, &c., &c.; while

the “sporting publican” division was represented by Owen Swift, Jem

Cross, Jack Gardiner, Jemmy Moore, “Stunning” Joe Banks, and a host of

“hosts.” On her downward course the “Father Thames” was followed by

several craft, and by the time she arrived at the Lower Hope Point,

about six miles below Gravesend, there was quite a “mosquito fleet” in

sight, not including a “tail” of Gravesend wherries which were

permitted to hang on to her stern tow-rope.

When off Cliffe Marshes, the welcome sounds of “Ease her!” “Stop her!”

“Easy astarn!” sounded from the bridge. All on deck were in a bustle

of delight. The facetious Joe Banks, backed up by jolly Jem Burn,

having, with impressive gravity, informed a group of listeners, the

destination of the craft being as yet a secret, “that the swells below

had arranged with the captain for a trip to the coast of France, as

they were determined to have no more stoppages from beaks nor blues,”

the horrid rumour ran from stem to stern; and not a few were sorely

exercised in their minds as to how a limited knowledge of the French

language, and a slender exchequer, would serve them in a trip to the

Continent, much more bring them back again, should they miss the boat.

Great, then, was the laughter at those who were beginning to believe

in “the sell” when the paddles were backed, the chain-cable run out,

and the smartest of the boatmen hooked their craft on to ropes hanging

from the sponsons of the “Father Thames.” The ground was well chosen,

under the lee of a high ridge of the river bank, in a level

intersected by broad ditches, and approachable only by crossing a deep

drain, bridged by a couple of stout scaffold planks, at each end of

which was a cluster of ring-constables, who secured comparative safety

to the single file of pilgrims, many of whom carried folding-seats

from the steamer, forms, trestles, bundles of straw, baskets, and

other conveniences, to say nothing of two enterprising Israelitish

speculators, who, with dubious steps, staggered over the wooden

bridge, amid the cheers and laughter of the admiring crowd, carrying a

beer-barrel slung on a slight, springy pole. This bridge of Al Sirat

passed, and “the land of promise” reached, the cheerful groups

assembled round the outer rope, while the privilege-ticket holders,

press-men, and officials, seated themselves on the stools aforesaid,

or, with the best waterproof protection procurable, assumed recumbent

positions on the damp and springy morass. The outer circle was soon

after materially increased by a crowd of East Enders, conveyed by

sundry steam-tugs, which, at a very low tariff, conveyed the multitude

to the Kentish _Champ de Mars_.

And now the doughty champions hove in sight from a hovel where they

had been ensconced. The American Ajax had for his armour-bearer Ben

Caunt, and for his page King Dick, who certainly, in this instance,

carried in his little noddle the larger portion of the scientific

knowledge of the trio. The Slasher loomed large, enveloped in a long

white frieze coat, his head surmounted by an Indian fur cap, with a

ferocious wild-cat mask as a vizor, which he wore upon his forehead

over his own hard, grinning physiognomy. Ben Terry and Harry Broome

were his henchmen. On stripping it was evident that Freeman had

increased in bulk by a stone and a half――18 stone 12 lbs. being the

result told by the weighing-chair that morning. His confidence, too,

seemed to have increased in a corresponding degree. The Slasher, on

stripping, looked thinner, and certainly paler than when he last

peeled in Cambridgeshire; but he had lost none of that careless,

“dare-devil” expression for which his countenance is remarkable. A

Scotch sportsman, and backer of M’Ginty, having accepted the onerous

and difficult position of referee, the first battle was brought to the

arbitrament of attack and defence.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――At thirteen minutes after twelve precisely

the men were conducted to the scratch, shook hands, and

threw themselves into position, the towering height and

great bulk of Freeman presenting the same fearful odds

we have before described. The Slasher dodged round his

man, waiting for an opening, but he found the Giant

ready to hit with him, and he had already felt the

weight of his feelers with sufficient force to have the

prudence of keeping at a distance. The Slasher tried

his left and right, but was out of distance. The Giant

followed him in his _pirouettes_, and at last, getting

closer, hit out left and right; the former passed over

the Slasher’s head, but the latter caught him slightly

on the nut, and the Slasher went down.

2.――The Slasher again cautious and _à la distance_.

Freeman followed his dodging manœuvres, and at last

rushed in to hit, but the Slasher in getting away fell

without being struck, and got up laughing.

3.――The Slasher got near to his man and let out with

his left at the nob, but did not get home. Trifling

exchanges with the left, the Slasher retreating,

Freeman at him left and right, just reaching him, when

the Slasher tumbled down. No mischief done.

4.――After renewed dodging the Slasher made himself up

for mischief, feinted once or twice, and then hit out

with his left. This brought the men to a rally, in

which favours were exchanged, and the Slasher catching

it on the nozzle showed first blood. After some wild

fighting, in which hits were exchanged, the Slasher was

down.

5.――Slasher cautious and getting away from the Giant;

he at last steadied himself, and counter-hits with the

left were exchanged. The Giant followed up his man to

the corner, but missed both left and right, and Slasher

got down.

6.――Counter-hits with the left, but no sting in them.

The Giant hit out well with his right, but the Slasher

dodged and got away. The Slasher was short with his

left and right, and again got away. He returned to the

charge, and caught Freeman slightly on the body with

his left. Freeman returned the compliment on the

temple, but it was more of a shove than a blow. Slasher

hit short with his left, ducked, and got away laughing.

The Giant steadied himself, waited for the attack,

stopped the Slasher’s left, and caught him a stinger on

the left ear with his right. The Slasher scrambled down

in a sort of rally.

7.――The Slasher planted his right on the Giant’s

shoulder, and got away; the Giant after him, and after

exchanging left and right out of distance, the Slasher

got down.

8.――Pretty exchanges left and right, and flesh marks

left. The Slasher tried at the body with his left,

stooped, and got away. The Giant pursued him, hitting

wildly left and right. He at last caught the Tipton in

his arms and chopped him on his head several times with

his right, but without administering any serious

punishment. The Slasher slipped down to avoid further

hitting.

9.――The Slasher tried his left, was short, and got

away. The Giant followed him as he dodged round the

ring, but his blows did not reach their destination.

After a wild scrambling rally the Slasher got down.

There was a want of precision in Freeman’s deliveries

which forbade the hope of execution.

10.――The Slasher dropped a heavy smack on the Giant’s

ivories with his left, which, coming in contact with

his teeth, inflicted a wound on his own finger, that

bled profusely. He tried it again, but was short, as

was the Giant in his attempt to return, and the Slasher

fell on his knees.

11.――The Giant’s mouth showed the effect of the blow in

the last round, his lips were swollen a little, and a

tinge of blood was perceptible. The Slasher led off

left and right; the former on the ribs, and the latter

on the shoulder, and rushing in after a struggle, went

down on his knees.

12.――The Slasher came up laughing, the Giant looking

serious; counter-hits with the left. The Slasher

dodged, and retreated towards the ropes; the Giant

followed him impetuously, and missed his one two. The

Slasher dropped, looked up, and laughed.

13.――The Slasher hit open handed, and retreated; he

then tried to drop his left on the Giant’s dial, but

his hand went over his shoulder; he then retreated, but

finding the Giant rushing in for mischief, he dropped.

[Cries of “foul,” but the umpires did not interfere.]

14.――The Slasher got home with his left, and dropped on

the Giant’s jaw. The Giant returned the compliment on

the cheek and ear, right and left, when the Slasher

went down. It scarcely could be called a knock-down

blow.

15.――The Slasher led off, and popped his left on the

Giant’s mouth. The Giant after him, and caught him

heavily with his right on the ear, which became

seriously swollen. A rally, in which there were some

heavy hits exchanged, and in the close the Slasher got

down.

16.――The Slasher, as usual, commenced hitting out left

and right, but did no execution, his blows being wide

of their mark. Freeman to him left and right, but the

deliveries were not effective. The Slasher down.

17.――Freeman popped a heavy smack with his right on the

Slasher’s neck. The Slasher, stung, rushed in wildly.

The Giant steadied himself, hit out well with his left,

and the Slasher dropped.

18.――The Slasher made play left and right, was short,

and went down. His second was observed rubbing his

neck, and there was a little of the _doldrum_

appearance in his phis.

19.――The Slasher hit short and only reached Freeman’s

shoulder with his right. He then fought on the retreat

to the corner, where he got down.

20.――The Slasher showed symptoms of blowing. He led off

in his old wild way, evidently afraid of the return,

and on the Giant lunging out right and left, he went

down anyhow.

21.――Slasher short with his left, and caught it heavily

from the Giant’s right on the ear; trifling exchanges,

and the Slasher down.

22.――The Slasher again short in his deliveries. The

Giant nailed him left and right, but not with much

severity, then seized him in his arms and flung him

down, walking contemptuously to his corner.

23, 24, 25, and 26.――Scrambling work, and Slasher down

in every round.

27.――The injury to the Slasher’s left hand appeared to

increase, but in this and the two following rounds no

mischief was done, and he invariably dropped grinning.

28.――A wild blundering round, in which there was no

precision on either side――the Slasher slipped down, but

was up again and renewed the round. After a scrambling

rally, the Slasher again got down, and slipped

completely under the Giant’s fork, at whom he looked up

and grinned.

29.――The Slasher hit short left and right, and threw

himself down with a whop to avoid. Freeman laughed and

shook his head, seeming to consider that it was

intended to induce him to strike foul.

30.――The Slasher succeeded in planting a right-handed

chopper on the Giant’s pimple, and got away. The Giant

dashed after him, hitting left and right, and then

endeavoured to seize him, but the Slasher slipped away

and fell.

31, 32, 33, and 34.――The fighting wild and indecisive;

in the last round, the Giant hit the Slasher down; but

it struck us as rather a push than a blow.

35.――The Giant in left and right――the Slasher

retreated――the Giant after him, but it was no go――he

let fly right and left, and then went down. The ground

now became extremely slippery for both men.

36.――Freeman led off, but was short and wild, and did

not reach his man. Slasher popped in his right on the

Giant’s shoulder, and in getting away went down.

37 and last.――Freeman ready, when the Slasher rushed to

close quarters, struck him on the shoulder with his

right, but, on the Giant attempting to return, he went

down without a blow.

A call was made by the seconds of Freeman on the

umpires, who disagreed, and on appealing to the referee

he pronounced “foul;” and, no doubt, had a similar

appeal been made to him before, he would have given a

like decision.

The Giant was immediately proclaimed the winner, and

was taken out of the ring after fighting thirty-nine

minutes.