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“That bard forlorn,

By Bacchanals torn

On Thracian Hebrus’ side,”

so he cried for quarter; and being reassured that he would be indemnified for the five bob, and “leave the ring without a stain on his character,” as the police reporters have it, he was appeased, pocketed the affront (and the five shillings), and straightway, with assistance, returned to his chariot (a South Mimms farmer’s cart), in charge of his true-blue stakes, his ditto beetle, staples, tent-pegs, and neatly-coiled cordage. As for Tommy Roundhead, after calling the gods to witness his readiness to do battle, he waxed less pugnacious, and quickly “lost stomach for the fight” when he was told the victorious party (to which his principal and he belonged), had a dinner waiting at the “Blue Boar,” of which he was invited to partake. The rain had now come on again, and as Apollo was appeased, no one cared to expose himself any longer to the anger of Jupiter Pluvius, and all who had the means, got as quickly housed as possible; the pedestrians plodding their weary way through slush and mire to their humble homes, the equestrians rattling home to their more luxurious domiciles.

Hampson challenged the Deaf’un to fight for £50, within 30 miles of Liverpool, but the affair fell through.

The Deaf’un now came out with a challenge to any 12-stone man and upwards (bar Jem Ward), dating from Reuben Martin’s, in Berwick Street. This was promptly answered on the part of Birmingham (Welsh) Davis, who declared his £100 ready, if necessary. The match was, however, made for £50 a side on December 16th, 1830, “to fight within four months.” In Bell’s Life of December 26th, 1830, we read, à propos of a discussion of the merits of heavy weight exhibitors at the benefits at the Fives Court, and the sparring of Ned Neale, Young Dutch Sam, Tom Gaynor, &c. “The Deaf’un was transformed into a swell, but had not lost his civility, as do too many of his calling. He was never known to utter an oath or an offensive word to any one, and has established the character of a good-natured, well-meaning fellow.” Of how few men in most positions in life could this be written truly!

February 22nd, 1831, was the day, and Baldwin having won the toss for Davis, named Knowle Hill, near Maidenhead, the spot where he (White-headed Bob) beat George Cooper. Baldwin had forgotten that Sir Gilbert East had “departed this life,” and that his place was filled by an anti-millarian justice. Davis, with Arthur Matthewson and Perkins, the Oxford Pet, reached Maidenhead on Monday, and there also arrived Jem Burn, Reuben Marten, Burke, cum multis aliis. At an early hour Tom Oliver and Fogo were on the move to Knowle Hill with their matériel, when they spied three mounted men in the distance. “My mind misgives me sore. By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes!” quoth Fogo. The horsemen approached. “S’help me,” said Tom Oliver, “they’re beaks to a sartinty; I don’t like the Jerusalem cut of the first one.” And Tom was right. Up rode Sir Maurice Ximenes. “My good men,” said Sir Maurice, “if you don’t want to get into trouble you’ll clear out of both Berkshire and Wilts. Myself and these two gentlemen have determined to suffer no breach of the peace in our jurisdiction. Go back at once to your party and tell them so.” Tom

Scratched his left ear, the infallible resource

To which most puzzled people have recourse.

“In course, yer worshup,” said the Commissary, “nobody would think of goin’ agenst yer worshup’s orders.” And he turned the head of his nag towards whence he came, muttering something very like a witch’s prayer for the Semitic nose and Israelitish carcase of his worship. All now were in motion for the Bush Inn, Staines, and, arrived there, Shepperton Range, in Co. Middlesex, was decided on. Burke, Reuben Marten, Stockman and company were on the ground in good time, but Davis was delayed by the overturning of his post-chaise between Windsor and Egham, through the clumsiness of his driver. It was, therefore, full two o’clock before he arrived, when no time was lost in preliminaries. Burke was seconded by Stockman and Reuben Marten, Davis by Harry Jones and Perkins. The colours being tied to the stake, and umpires and referee chosen, at the cry of “Fall back! Fall back!” and the crack of the ringkeepers’ whips, all settled themselves down, and the men began

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—​Both men set to in good form, and covered their vulnerable points well. Davis looked brown, strong, and hardy, his trade of a coachsmith being one well calculated to promote muscular development. The Deaf’un was paler than usual, though he looked bright and confident. There was a sly looseness about the Deaf’un’s action that seemed intended to induce the Brum to go in. Davis tried a nobber with the left, but Burke got away smiling. More shifting and Davis let go his right at the Deaf’un’s ribs, and his left at his head; the former Burke caught on his elbow, the latter got home sharply, and exchanges followed. The Deaf’un broke away, counter-hits and a close, in which the Deaf’un gained the fall. A most determined first round, with as much fighting as half a dozen first rounds of our modern sparring professors.

2.—​Davis bleeding from the nose and a cut on the left cheekbone. The Welshman got on a heavy smack on the Deaf’un’s eye, which twinkled and blinked again. Burke shook his head and hemm’d twice or thrice. “He don’t like it,” cried Harry Jones, “do it again.” Davis tried to do so, but was stopped neatly. Mutual stopping and shifting, until the Deaf’un balanced accounts by a straight’un on Davis’s left ogle that seemed to electrify him for the instant. Both men now got at it ding-dong. Davis staggered once or twice from the heavy hits, but recovered and went on again. At last Burke drove Davis into his corner and hit him down. (First knock down for the Deaf’un.)

3.—​Davis flushed, but still strong, fresh, and active. Deaf’un hit short to draw his man, and then sent in a cross counter as Davis hit out with his left. A rally. Davis fought fast and furious; a close and Davis under in the fall.

4.—​Heavy hitting and a bustling round. Jack as good as his master, and not a pin to choose. Towards the close Burke’s heavier metal told, and both were down, blowing; Davis undermost.

5.—​Fast work and bellows to mend. A terrific round. Counter-hits; give and take and no mistake; Davis determined to get the lead, and Burke resisting his assaults like a brick wall. At last Davis closed, but after a brief struggle the Deaf’un flung him a clear cross-buttock, poor Davis’s legs whirling in the air like the revolving spokes of a coach wheel.

6.—​Davis slow from his corner, but did not appear to be so much shaken by the last round as was expected. This was a very short bout. Davis retreated, and the Deaf’un went in; exchanges, and Davis down in his own corner.

7.—​The Deaf’un, sly as a ’possum, would not go over the scratch, but kept throwing out first one elbow, then the other, with a funny little jerk, and looking his adversary all over with a kind of self-satisfied grin on his stoneware mug, as much as to say, “Let’s see what you are going to do next,” to which poor Davis certainly did not seem able to give any practical answer. He, too, shifted from side to side, then taking courage from despair, in he went, Burke jumping back from his first delivery, and each of their left hands coming “bash,” as a bystander expressed it, in the other’s face. Some more left-arm hitting, both men as game as pebbles, Burke’s broadsides the heavier, and poor Davis over on his beam ends.

8.—​On being righted, and got once more on an even keel, Davis yawed and rolled not a little. Still the Deaf’un stood off, waiting for his opponent to make sail for close quarters, which he did, and again they were yardarm and yardarm. It was not for long; away fell Davis, reeling under the weight of the Deaf’un’s shot, and went over among the bottles in his own corner.

9.—​It was surprising to see how readily Davis recovered from what appeared almost finishing hits. There was much advice-giving in Davis’s corner, and “Time” was more than once called before the Welshman was out of the hands of his seconds. The round was very short. Davis once again went in, and this time got on a stinger on the Deaf’un’s left ear, and a round one in the bread-basket. A scramble, and both down.

10.—​Davis on the totter, but he steadied himself and got home his right on Burke’s body; good counter-hits. Davis got Burke on the ropes, but he extricated himself, and closing threw Davis.

11.—​Davis hit short and stepped back. The Deaf’un did not follow. Some little time spent in sparring; both blown. At last the men got together, and Davis, finding he must do some hard fighting, went in hand over hand. Burke was with him and got him down in the hitting under the ropes. Burke walked to his corner while the Lively Kid performed a fancy step, leaving Reuben to make a knee. (Cries of “Take him away!” from the Londoners.)

12.—​Davis came up all abroad. His knees seemed to shake under him. Still he steadied himself as well as he could, and hit out. Burke merely stepped in and hit him down with one, two.

13.—​It was all over with Davis. He walked up to the scratch with an unsteady step, and stood there quite bewildered. The Deaf’un faced him. Some one in Davis’s corner cried “Don’t hit him!” The Deaf’un stepped over the scratch and caught hold of his right hand, Davis’s seconds rushed forward, received him in their arms, and conveyed him to his corner. Time, twenty-seven minutes.

Remarks.—​Burke is all to nothing the better fighter at points. The battle was never in doubt after the first few rounds. Experience, coolness, and readiness, and a good deal of work without much show, marked the Deaf’un’s tactics throughout. More than once he played off his favourite manœuvre with effect. This consists in throwing himself in a loose and careless attitude, and looking at his man’s feet, or anywhere but in his face, when, if his adversary takes the bait and comes in, he suddenly lets fly, and seldom fails to administer a couple of punishing blows, or at least a damaging counter-hit. David Davis, who, we learn, has a long time worked in London as a coachspring maker, and who beat Manning in the short space of 24 minutes on Wolverhampton race-course in December, 1828, has now been beaten by the Deaf’un in 27 minutes. The Brums were deceived by the reports of Bill Cosens, who never ceased disparaging the merits of the Deaf’un, whom he boasts of having “beaten easily,” though he has several times shuffled out of a second engagement with him. Davis returned to Birmingham on Wednesday week, after showing at the Deaf’un’s benefit, and the giving up of the stakes at Reuben Marten’s, on the following Tuesday. Davis’s chief visible hurts were these—​injured left hand and discolouration of the eyes.

One Blissett, a 14-stone man, and a butcher by trade, having crept into favour with himself and his fraternity by some bye-battles, and defeating Brown (the Northampton Baker), was matched against the Deaf’un, not a few of the “kill-bull” brotherhood hoping to reverse the verdict in the case of Hands, who was still a popular favourite among them. In this affair the Deaf’un again posted the first “fiver,” this time out of his stake with Davis, whereon Tom Cannon, on the part of Mr. Hayne, promised the rest of the stake of £25, and the day of battle was fixed for the 26th of May. The betting began at 6 to 4 on the Deaf’un. Burke went into training at the “Crown,” at Holloway, and Blissett took his breathings at the “Black Horse,” Greenford Green. There was a good muster of the sporting public on the ground at Colney Heath, Blissett coming on the ground in style with a four-in-hand, sporting a crimson flag and black border, the Deaf’un a green-and-orange handkerchief. When stripped, Burke appeared in a fancy pair of white drawers of a glazed material, trimmed and bound with green ribbons, and tied with green bows at the knees, where they were joined by a pair of blue-and-white striped stockings. Blissett weighed 13st. 12lb., and stood 6ft; the Deaf’un 12st. 8lb., and stood 5ft. 8in.

THE FIGHT.

We shall give but a general sketch of the rounds of this one-sided affair. In the first round Blissett, who displayed more sparring ability than was expected, began by planting heavily on the Deaf’un’s eyebrow, which he cut, and thus gained the first event amidst the uproarious cheers of his admirers. Soon after, however, the scene was changed, for the Deaf’un, getting under his guard, gave him several such severe body blows, that the big one, who certainly carried too much flesh, literally staggered and caught the top rope with his hand, while the Deaf’un had his opponent’s head at his mercy, until, recovering himself, Blissett forced a wild rally, in which he bored the Deaf’un down, without doing much mischief. In the following rounds Blissett, who was already piping, tried to lead off, but generally either missed or was stopped, while the Deaf’un, every now and then, got in a rattling hit on the mouth, eyes, or nose, in pretty equal succession. Before the 10th round was reached, Burke had not only got his man down to his own weight, but forced the fighting, or the reverse, at his own will, getting slyly inside and under Blissett’s hands, and hitting up at half-arm with punishing effect. After two or three more rounds of furious and wild fighting on the part of Blissett, he fell off, and in the 13th round the Deaf’un closed, lifted him, and threw him heavily. In the 14th and 15th rounds Blissett, after receiving a prop or two, literally got down amidst some hissing. Despite Young Dutch Sam’s urging him on, the big one now fought shy; indeed he was frightfully punished about the head.

In the 17th and 18th rounds Blissett, after a hit or two, turned away and fell on his knees and hands; and when he fell in the 19th and last round from a coming blow, Sam threw up the sponge, and the Deaf’un was hailed the victor amidst loud cheering. Time, 44 minutes.

Blissett was conveyed back to town, and the Deaf’un, having dressed, assisted to beat out the ring for the next fight, in which Young Richmond (a smart bit of ebony only 18 years of age, son of the renowned old Bill), was defeated by the afterwards celebrated Jack Adams, a protégé of Jem Burn.

Burke now laid by for a time, part of the interval from a boating accident, in which he badly injured the cap of his knees, which detained him in a hospital for several weeks. That this was serious we may conclude from the fact, that the writer was more than once told by the Deaf’un, in after years, that, “Though you can’t see nothing, misters, I often feels my leg go all of a suddent.” There was, in fact, a partial anchylosis, or stiffening of the joint.

In May, 1832, at a dinner at Tom Cribb’s, in Panton Street, Spring, the ex-champion, Josh Hudson, Ned Neale, Jem Burn (his old antagonist, Ned Baldwin, had just dropped the reins and quitted his box at the “Coach and Horses,” St. Martin’s Lane), and other leading pugilists were present. The after-dinner conversation, of course, ran on the past exploits and future prospects of the Ring. The remarkable group of pugilists—​which included Jem Ward, Peter Crawley, Jem Burn, Ned Baldwin (White-headed Bob), Shelton, Tom Cannon, Ned Neale, Young Dutch Sam, Alec Reid, and Bishop Sharpe, the successors of Tom Spring, Langan, Bill Neale, Ned Painter, Josh Hudson, Oliver, and Hickman—​had, before 1832, each fought his last fight, and “the slate” was positively clear of any engagements among the “heavies.” Among the guests was a cavalry officer, whose regiment being ordered for India (“short service” and “home leave on urgent private affairs” were not then in fashion), expressed his regret to jolly Josh Hudson, that he believed the race of “big ’uns” was extinct, and that he should “never see the like again” of those present. Josh, of course, coincided, but when the soldier added, that he would gladly give “a note with a strawberry-tart corner” to see such a mill, old Jack Carter, who had come in with the dessert, “put in his spoke,” and asked Josh whether he couldn’t “find him a job,” as he was ready and willing, and felt himself man enough for any second-rater who would make a good fight for a little money. Jack added that he had only the day before seen Burke rowing at Woolwich, being well of his bad knee, and complaining of the “deadness” of everything, and that they had come up to town together.

“Where there’s a will there’s a way.” The soldier had no time to spare, and was prompt; the men promised to be at the “Old Barge House,” Woolwich, on the morning of the 8th of May, meeting on the previous day at Josh’s “Half-Moon” tap, to make final arrangements. Tom Oliver, who was present, was officially engaged, also Jack Clarke; Dick Curtis and Frank Redmond volunteered to pick up the Deaf’un, and all was smoothly settled.

There was a select muster, with an unusual sprinkling of swells, on that pleasant morning of the merry month of May in the Woolwich Marshes, near the “Old Barge House,” round the newly painted stakes and a new set of ropes, &c. recently presented to Tom Oliver by the F.P.C. (Fair Play Club), through the hands of Tom Belcher. The men were punctual. Carter was waited on by Barney Aaron and Sol. Reubens (who had lately fought Tom Smith, the East End Sailor Boy). Old Jack certainly looked “hard,” and also, as Barney added, “brown and stale, like a well-kept loaf.” He, however, stripped “big,” and showed the outlines of the once boasted “Lancashire hero,” the opponent of Spring, Richmond, Cribb (in a turn-up), Shelton, and Jem Ward. He was neatly got up, but showing unmistakable marks of age, as well he might, for Jack was now entering his 43rd summer, having been born in September, 1789. The Deaf’un, too, was in good trim, deducting the ugly defect of a stiff knee—​a serious drawback when opposed to length, weight, and height. Of these, however, the cheerful Deaf’un made no account, and was as lively and quaint as a Merry Andrew, in his grotesque green and yellow kickseys, and striped coverings of his sturdy pedestals.

The fight, though displaying courage, offered little in the way of science. For the first four rounds Carter bored in and drove the Deaf’un against the ropes, where he tried in vain to hold him for a “hug,” the Deaf’un hitting up sharply to the damage of Carter’s figure-head, and then getting through his hands with little damage. The Deaf’un was certainly out of order somewhere in the victualling department, for towards the middle of the short fight he retched and was violently sick from his exertions in a throw. This revived the hopes of the Carter party, against whom the game was evidently going. It was, however, but a passing gleam; the Deaf’un shook off his qualms of indigestion, rattled in without standing for any repairs, old Jack became stiff as a wooden image, then groggy as a sailor three sheets in the wind, and finally, at the end of the 11th round, went down “all of a heap,” and declared he “could fight no more,” at which conclusion it took him only 25 minutes to arrive.

The ring cleared, Josh announced to his patron that he had, foreseeing that the big ’uns might, one or the other, “come short,” provided an after-piece, by then and there getting off a “little go;” said “little go” being the match between Izzy Lazarus[15] and Jem Brown (the go-cart man). This was indeed a rattling and active fight, until, after an hour’s sharp milling, in which capital “points” were made by both men, the Thames police landed from their galleys and compelled a move, at the same time informing them that “it was no use crossing the river, as they should follow them up or down, either to the City-stone at Staines, or to Yantlet Creek.” In this hopeless state of affairs it was proposed to divide the original £10 stakes and the added purse, which was assented to by the Napoleon, of Go-cart men, and his Israelitish opponent, who had had, no doubt, quite enough of each other “at the prishe.” The “swell” division bowled back to the great metrop., well pleased with their day’s outing, though the drop fell rather suddenly on the second pugilistic performance.

The Deaf’un for some months confined himself to the business of an exhibitor and teacher of the art, superintending the sparring rooms at the “Coach and Horses,” and demonstrating at Reuben Marten’s on certain nights in the week. He might also always be depended on (which many men not so good as he were not) to lend a hand in aid of any poor pug in distress or difficulty.

Towards the close of 1832 the Deaf’un formed part of a professional party (organised by his late opponent Jack Carter), who visited Manchester, Liverpool, Bradford, and other towns, to enlighten the Lancashire and Yorkshire tykes upon the true principles and manly practices of the art of self-defence, as taught in the best schools of boxing. These milling missionaries—​we have seen less laudable missions since that day—​of course awakened more or less a “revival” of “fair play,” the study of the gloves, and the legitimate use of the fist among both the “upper” and “lower” orders. While at Hull an immense specimen of a gigantic North countryman, of the name of Macone, having had “a try with the gloves,” thought “he could lick any of these Lunnoners except Jock (Carter) and he was too old to talk aboot.” The Deaf’un thought quite differently; so £20 a side was put down, and, with only a few days’ training, Macone and the Deaf’un faced each other at Lackington Bottom, near Beverley, on the 8th January, 1833. “Macone,” says the meagre report of the battle, “stood 6 feet 2 inches, and weighed 15 stone, and had polished off several big yokels in first-rate style. The Yorkshireman was in first-rate condition, while the Deaf’un was generally thought not quite up to the mark. He weighed 13 stone (a little too heavy) and stood 5 foot 8.” Of the battle we have scanty particulars, yet the reporter adds, “it was such a fight as would not have disgraced the days of Cribb and Belcher. Burke had to do all he knew to obtain a victory over his large opponent, who turned out the bravest of the brave, and took his gruel without a murmur, until he could no more stand up to receive.”

We have here, for the sake of keeping the chronological order of the Deaf’un’s fights, followed on with his “crowning triumph” over the mighty but unskilful Macone, and shall here “hark back” a few months, just to show how ready Jem Burke was to “negotiate” with any boxer who might be “getting mouldy for want of a bating.” His old adversary Cosens appears to have thought that the Deaf’un’s accident had laid him “on the shelf,” for he kept from time to time firing off challenges, in Pierce Egan’s and other sporting papers. Here is one of them, which certainly savours of “gag,” especially as the writer was then upon a sparring tour, and in the same paper advertises a “benefit” at Brighton:—

“The Editor of Life in London.

“Sir,—​I wish to inform Deaf Burke, as he takes upon himself the ‘Championship of England,’ that I am ready to fight him again. Should he think proper to do so, I will meet him at the ‘Wheatsheaf Inn,’ Chichester, within a fortnight, and make a match for £50 a side, to come off within one or two months, as he may prefer.

“Hunston, January 24, 1832. WM. COSENS.”

Immediately beneath this epistle we read as follows:—

“Sir,—​I understand that Josh Hudson sent something like a challenge to me in your paper last Sunday. If he means fighting I will meet him at the ‘Coach and Horses,’ St. Martin’s Lane, on Monday evening next, for from fifty to one hundred a side.

“St. Martin’s Lane, May 22, 1832. JAMES BURKE.”

This affair of Hudson’s was a mere “flash-in-the-pan.” Josh’s day was decidedly gone by, while the Deaf’un, whose birth dated but five years previous to Josh’s first ring-fight, was in the prime of youthful strength and vigour.

Another of Burke’s challengers at this time, a Welshman of the name of Bill Charles, “loomed large” in the Principality and the West of England. He had twice beaten Jem Bailey, of Bristol, and polished off several rural commoners, and recently (June 4, 1832) conquered a local favourite, Tom Trainer (much under his own weight). From this triumph the soi disant champion’s bounce became so intolerable that Trainer’s friends clubbed their resources, and resolved to back the Deaf’un, as a fit and proper man, a very Orlando, to floor this braggart Charles; but unfortunately this portion of As You Like It was not rehearsed in Taffy-land, the “Lunnon cove” not being to the liking of Charles’s friends. Burke went down to Newport (Monmouthshire) to make the match; but the Welshman’s backers (like Aminadab’s servant when he opened the door, on the chain, to the bailiff) seem to have taken alarm at the formidable appearance of the Deaf’un, and Mr. Charles replied, on behalf of his patron, “Master hath seen thee and he doth not like thee;” preferring to forfeit a small deposit. Burke offered to fight “the Welsh Champion” half-way between Abergavenny and Newport, or near Bristol, or at Monmouth Gap, for £50 or £100 a side, but the affair went off, and Burke returned to London—​matchless.

On the retirement of Ward from the Championship, among the crowd of pretenders to the title, the Deaf’un certainly had the fairest claim, having fought his way up, refusing no opponent, and disposing of every competitor, save one, and he afterwards declined to risk a repetition of the contest, upon transparent quibbles.

At a meeting at Tom Spring’s, in a pugilistic palaver, wherein matches were discussed, examined, and the pros and cons agreed and decided on, the Deaf’un, in his peculiar style, suggested, that he would like a match with Young Dutch Sam, “becos he was so clevers,” or Simon Byrne, “becos he was big enoughs,” or, in fact, with anybody that “tought himselfs champions.” At first Young Sam seemed disposed to take up the glove, but on reflection he said, “Burke was too heavy for him by more than a stone and a half. That was giving too much away.” Shortly afterwards a well-known Irish Colonel coming in, declared his readiness to back Byrne against the challenger, and a meeting was appointed for the following Tuesday at Spring’s. On the day named Simon’s “needful” was tabled; but alas! the poor Deaf’un was obliged to acknowledge his failure in enlisting any kind friend to back him, as “they were all out of towns when he called on ’em. But,” continued he, “to shows as I means fightins there’s a soverins of my owns to begins with—​let Byrne’s friends cover thats, and on Thursday week I hopes I’ll make it tens, an if not—​why, I’m de fools.” Two gentlemen present, admiring Burke’s pluck, added a sovereign each, making three, which were covered by Spring for Byrne. Bell’s Life, speaking of this meeting, says: “It is to be hoped that Burke will not lack supporters; he may not possess the gift of the gab, but he wants none of the requisites of a British boxer; he is honest, brave, and confident; and from his past good character, as well as the prompt humanity he lately showed in rescuing fellow-creatures from danger at the risk of his own life (we allude to his saving two children, who were buried in the ruins of some houses in Essex Street, Strand), it would be discreditable to see such a man lost for a trifle. It is always in the power of many to assist one, and here is an opportunity for those who wish to patronise the old British game of boxing upon honest principles which should not be overlooked.” The week after this appeal Burke found his friends (he did not call upon those who were “out of town,” he told us), and the match was made for £100 a side, to come off on the 30th May, 1833.

A singular circumstance occurred to the Deaf’un on his way home from Spring’s on the night when the occurrences took place which led to this anecdote of Burke’s good qualities. A fire was raging in Long Acre, in a poor and populous neighbourhood, at which Burke especially distinguished himself, and was honourably mentioned for his courageous exertions, rescuing a great deal of humble property at no small personal peril.

As we propose to give but a brief sketch of the ring career of Simon Byrne, as a pendant to the present memoir, we shall not here break the thread of our story, but proceed at once to the details of this unfortunate contest.

“The Irish Champion” was backed on this occasion by “all the talent.” Jem Ward, Ned Neale, Tom Spring, and Jem Burn were, to use a professional phrase, “behind him,” and he had at his command all that money and skill could do for him. On arriving in town from Liverpool, Simon’s weight exceeded 15 stone, and this mountain of flesh he had to reduce and did reduce to 13st. 4lbs. With this view he was at once sent off to Ned Neale’s, at Norwood, and, under his skilful superintendence, by hard work and sweating, this reduction was effected; but not, we are convinced, without impairing his natural stamina, for Byrne’s habits in Ireland were, so said rumour, far from abstemious. Burke, on the contrary—​for the Deaf’un was never a slave to liquor—​had only to improve his condition by good air, sound food, and healthful exercise, of which he took at Northfleet, under the eye of the veteran Tom Owen, a full share both on and off the water, much of his time being spent in rowing. Burke on the morning of fighting weighed 12st. 4lbs., the weight which Captain Barclay declared, when combined with science, to be heavy enough to box Goliath himself. We ought not to omit that Tom Gaynor generously took Burke under his wing, and guaranteed his training and personal expenses.

No Man’s Land was fixed upon for the battle, in consequence of an undertaking on the part of Mr. Coleman, of the Turf Tavern, St. Alban’s, to raise £25, to be equally divided between the men. On Wednesday evening, May 29th, the night before fighting, both men reached St. Alban’s in good spirits, and both confident as to the result. Burke was the favourite in the betting, as he had been, more or less, since the match was made; the odds varying between 5 to 4 and guineas to pounds. The arrivals at St. Alban’s were not numerous on Wednesday, but on Thursday morning there was unusual bustle, and as the day advanced the crowd of vehicles was such as to recall the olden times of the ring. The piece of turf chosen for the encounter was smooth as a bowling-green; in fact, nothing could have been more suitable to the purpose, or better calculated to have afforded a good view of the contest, but for the irregularity which prevailed among the throng, who, in spite of all entreaty, crowded round the ropes and stakes during the battle, and, by the most disgraceful confusion, not only shut out the view of the combatants, but distracted the attention and excited the fears of the spectators by a succession of fights and squabbles. The men arrived on the ground soon after 12 o’clock. The Deaf’un was all jollity, and full of antics, having disfigured his Grimaldi countenance with white patches, for the amusement of the yokels, at whom he kept making wry faces all the way from his quarters; in fact, had he been going to a fair instead of into the P.R. he could not have been in higher spirits. Byrne was more staid, but still was cheerful. He was the first to enter the ring, attended by Tom Spring and Jem Ward; he was loudly cheered. Burke soon followed, accompanied by Tom Gaynor and Dick Curtis, and was received with equal marks of favour. A good deal of time was lost in settling preliminaries, during which the Deaf’un continued his playful tricks, much to the astonishment of Byrne, who exclaimed he did “not think the man was in his right sinses.”

On stripping, it was obvious that Burke, in point of muscularity, was decidedly superior to Byrne, especially in the arms and shoulders; he was also in the best condition. Byrne looked well, but there was a softness about his shoulder-blades which showed he was still too fleshy. He stood about an inch and a half over Burke, but, nevertheless, did not seem to have much advantage in the reach; upon the whole, the connoisseurs gave the preference to the Deaf’un, who was health personified. The men were conducted to the scratch at about half-past one, and immediately commenced

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—​Both threw themselves into defensive positions; the Deaf’un grinning most confidently, and slyly looking at his antagonist. Byrne made one or two feints to draw his man, but Burke waited steadily for him. They then changed their ground. Byrne again made a feint, and after the lapse of some time, both cautious, Byrne let fly with his left. Burke countered heavily, and caught Byrne on the mouth, while he had it himself on the nose. Burke snuffled, and Byrne cried “First blood.” “No,” said Burke, and wiping his finger on his nose, withdrew it unstained. Another short dodging pause, when Byrne again let go his left, which dropped on the old spot; while Burke as quickly returned on the mouth; and again did the cry of “first blood” resound from all quarters; and, on inspection, the crimson was seen on Byrne’s lips, and on Burke’s proboscis, at one and the same moment. First blood was claimed for Burke, but disputed; and we understand the umpires and the referee decided it was a tie—​giving neither the advantage. Some good counter hits with the left followed, and in the close, after an awkward scramble, both went down, without any decided advantage. On getting up both showed claret, Byrne from the nose and mouth, and Burke from the nose. Burke also showed the mark of a hit on the right brow.

2.—​Long sparring. Burke waiting for Byrne to begin, being well on his guard. Both offered, but did not strike. At last Byrne popped in his left on Burke’s mouth, while Burke’s left, in the counter, went over his shoulder. Burke looked slyly down at Byrne’s body, as if intending to make his next hit there, but stealing a march, he threw in his left on Byrne’s mouth. Byrne was, however, awake, and countered. Mutual dodging. Burke stopped Byrne’s left cleverly; and after more sparring, Burke exclaimed, “Isn’t this beautiful, Simons?” while Gaynor said “his man was certain to win, and should be backed against any man in England.” Burke tried his right, but missed, and the men rushed to a rally. Heavy hitting took place, and in the close Byrne had the advantage, giving the Deaf’un the crook, and falling heavily on him, but on getting up it was obvious the hitting was on a par, as both had received some ugly clouts. These two rounds occupied 17 minutes.

3.—​Burke stopped Byrne’s left in good style, and waited for the renewed attack. Both cautious. Burke again stopped a left-handed stinger, and succeeded in throwing in his own left on Byrne’s mouth. This brought them to a rally, and the hitting left and right was lively and pretty. In the close there was some good in-fighting in favour of Byrne, but in the struggle for the throw both went down slovenly, Burke under.

4.—​Counter-hits with the left, when Byrne threw in a tremendous whack with his right on the back of Burke’s head; had it been in front the effect might have been conclusive. Burke, at the same moment, caught him in the ribs with his right. A rally followed, in which hits were exchanged; and, in the close, Burke was thrown. On getting up, both showed additional claret from their smellers, and Byrne had evidently had a refresher on his left ogle.

5.—​A good rally, commencing with left-handed counters; both napped it. Byrne stepped back, and as Burke came he gave him the upper-cut with his right, and closing threw him heavily. Loud shouts for Byrne; and Jem Ward asked the Deaf’un how he liked that. The Deaf’un laughed, and shook his head, observing, “Very good, Misters.”

6.—​The knuckle of Byrne’s right hand now began to swell—​the consequence of its terrific contact with the Deaf’un’s canister in the fourth round. Pretty counter-hits with the left, ending in a rally, in which both hit away left and right. In stepping back from his own blow, Burke fell on his corobungus, and first knock-down was claimed, but not allowed, as it was clearly a slip.

7.—​Counter-hitting with the left. Burke again made some pretty stops. The men fought in a rally to the corner, where Byrne caught Burke under his arm, and fibbed, but not effectively, and ultimately threw him, falling heavily on his corpus. “He can do nothing but throw,” cried Curtis; and the Deaf’un was up, and as jolly as ever.

8.—​Heavy slaps, right and left; both had it on the nob. Burke was driven against the ropes, and Byrne fought well in. Burke butted,[16] and in the end got down, Byrne on him.

9.—​Both cautious. Byrne again trying the feint, but Burke well on his guard. At last Byrne let fly his left, but Burke was with him, and returned it heavily. In the close, Byrne tried for the throw, when Burke hung by his arms round his neck. At last Byrne hit him a tremendous blow with his right on the body, and they both went down together.

10.—​Both resined their hands,[17] and set-to as fresh as daisies. Byrne dropped in a slight muzzler with his left, which was followed by counter-hitting, and a severe rally. Byrne missed a terrific upper-cut, which would have told a fearful tale, and fell. Both exhibited considerable marks of punishment on getting on their seconds’ knees.

11.—​Short counter-hitting with the left, followed by a determined rally, in which the nobbers left and right were severe. In the close Byrne down.

12.—​Burke threw in a stinging hit with his right on Byrne’s ribs. A weaving rally followed, which was concluded by Byrne’s getting down, amidst the jeers of the Deaf’un’s friends.

13.—​Byrne popped in his left. Burke tried to counter, but missed. A wild rally, in which Burke was driven to the corner of the ring, and fell; Byrne tumbling on him with his knee, it was said, in a tender place, whether designedly or not we could not judge.

14.—​Byrne had a suck at the brandy-bottle before he commenced; when the Deaf’un rattled in, and gave him a heavy round hit with the right on the body, and went down from the force of his own blow.

15.—​Counter-hitting with the left. Burke active on his pins. Byrne missed a right-handed hit, and fell, we suspect rather from design than accident.

16.—​Burke popped in his left and right, two stinging hits. Byrne returned with the left, closed, and threw him.

17.—​Burke now had recourse to “drops of brandy,” and Byrne, who had shown symptoms of distress, seemed to have got fresher. Counter-hitting with the left, both catching it on the chops, and showing more pink. A short rally. Byrne fought well in; and in the close, both down, the Deaf’un under.

18.—​The fight had now lasted 45 minutes. Long sparring, and both slow in their operations. Burke, in his usual cunning manner, looked down as if studying the movements of Byrne’s feet, and popped in a whack with the left on his body; a manœuvre which he tried a second time, with equal success, with his right on the ribs. Burke stopped a left-handed hit, but caught another nasty one from Byrne’s right on the neck; it was a round hit, and missed the butt of the ear, for which it was intended. A short rally; when Byrne tried for the fall, but in swinging round was himself thrown.

19.—​Burke showed feverish symptoms in his mouth, which was extremely dry. Long sparring, and pretty stops on both sides. Burke threw in a heavy smasher with his left on Byrne’s mouth, and followed it with tremendous heavy hit with his right on the ear. Byrne made a rejoinder with his left on the Deaf’un’s nose, and turned quickly round on his heel. “How do you like that?” cried Ward. Both ready, and on their guard; Burke evidently waiting for Byrne to commence; but incautiously putting down his hands to wipe them on his drawers, Byrne, as quick as lightning, popped in a snorter. Loud laughter at Burke’s expense. Burke rushed to a rally, and some severe hitting right and left followed, Byrne receiving a cut over his left eye. Byrne administered the upper-cut, and in the close, went down.

20.—​One hour and 20 minutes had now elapsed. Counter-hitting with the left, but not much execution done. In the close, both down. Byrne’s right hand seemed to be of little use to him.

The same style of fighting was persevered in, with little advantage on either side, till the 27th round, by which time one hour and 47 minutes had elapsed; and the crowd had so completely closed in round the ropes as to prevent the distant spectators from witnessing the progress of the fight.

In the 27th round, after counter-hits with the left on both sides, at the head, Burke popped his left heavily on Byrne’s body. Byrne rushed to a rally, and Burke, retreating to the ropes, received a heavy hit in the head, which dropped him. The first knock-down was here universally admitted.

In the 29th round Burke was thrown heavily, his head coming with tremendous force on the ground; and in the 30th, Byrne, catching him against the ropes, gave him some severe body blows with the right, and finally threw him. While lying on his face, Burke was sick, and threw up some blood; his friends looked blue.

31.—​Burke came up weak, and rather groggy. Byrne rushed in, and hit him heavily on the ribs, and in the close again threw him. Byrne now became a decided favourite, and was evidently the fresher man.

In the 35th round, two hours having elapsed, Byrne again caught Burke at the ropes, and in the in-fighting, gave him some severe punishment, while Burke butted. Burke thrown.

36.—​Byrne pursued the same system of boring his opponent to the ropes, and peppered at him while in that position. In trying for the fall, Byrne held Burke up by the neck for some time, trying to fib with his right, but not effectively; but at last Ward gave him the office, and he let him go, falling heavily upon him.

37.—​Burke sick, but still resolute. From this to the 43rd round Byrne seemed to have it his own way, and Burke was so much distressed that his friends began to despair of success. Tom Cannon now jumped into the ring, followed by several others, and considerable confusion prevailed. Cannon had been backing Burke, and evidently came to urge him to renewed exertion. He loudly exclaimed, “Get up and fight, Deaf’un; do you mean to make a cross of it?” A person who was equally interested on the other side struck at Cannon, and ultimately got him outside the ropes. In the interim, Burke went to work, bored Simon down against the ropes, but fell outside himself, while Simon was picked up within the ring.

In the five following rounds both fought in a wild and scrambling manner, equally exhausting to each; and in the 49th round, Burke, who had summoned all his remaining strength, rattled away with such fury that Simon at last went down weak. Here was another change, and Burke again became the favourite. From thenceforth to the 99th round, repeated changes took place. On one occasion the hat was actually thrown up to announce Byrne’s Victory, from the impression that Burke was deaf to time, as he lay, apparently, in a state of stupor; but, to the surprise of all, Curtis again brought his man to the scratch, and he renewed the contest with unshaken courage. From the state of Byrne’s hands, which were dreadfully puffed, he was unable to administer a punishing blow; and round after round the men were brought up, surrounded by their partisans, who crowded the arena, and by sprinkling them with water, fanning them with their hats, and other expedients, endeavoured to renew their vigour. To attempt a description of each round, from the uproar which prevailed, would be impossible. Burke, whenever placed before his man, hit away right and left, at the body and head, and always seemed to have a good hit at him, although his left hand was almost invariably open. In the 91st round Simon gave him a heavy fall, and fell upon him; and it was here considered that the Deaf’un’s chances were almost beyond a hope. Still he continued to come up at the call of his seconds, and each round exhibited a determined display of manly milling; both hit away with resolution, and the men were alternately uppermost. At last, in the 93rd round, Byrne exhibited such symptoms of exhaustion that the shouts of the friends of Burke cheered him to fresh exertion, and, rushing in wildly, he hit Byrne down, and fell over him. This made such a decided change for the worse in Simon, and for the six following rounds he came up so groggy, that he was scarcely able to stand, and rolled before the Deaf’un like a ship in a storm. Bad as he was, he continued to meet the Deaf’un with his left, and to do all that nature would permit. Burke, however, proved himself to have the better constitution, and continued to pepper away till the last round, when Byrne fell senseless, and was incapable of being again lifted on his legs. Burke, who was also in the last stage of exhaustion, was immediately hailed as the conqueror, amidst the reiterated cheers of his friends. The fight lasted exactly 3 hours and 16 minutes and at its conclusion, Gaynor proclaimed that Burke was “Champion of England.” Ward, who was in the ring attending to Byrne, exclaimed “Walker,” but whether he means to dispute Burke’s claim to that distinction remains to be seen. Byrne was carried to his vehicle, while Burke, with difficulty, was able to walk from the ring. The scene that prevailed in the ring for the last hour was disgraceful, and shut out from the spectators a view of the most part of the fight. It would be difficult to say which side was most to blame, for in fact each man had his party, who were equally busy in their interference. It is but justice, however, to say that the men themselves received fair play, and that there was nothing done towards them which called for censure.

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:—