Читать книгу Pugilistica - Henry Downes Miles - Страница 17

Table of Contents

A second Hotspur, had the sword been his weapon—fiery, hardy, daring, impetuous, laughing to scorn all fear, and refusing to calculate odds in weight, length, or strength, “the Gas Man,” for a brief period, shone rather as a dazzling comet than a fixed star or planet in the pugilistic sphere. Impetuous in the assault almost to ferocity, though not destitute of skill, Hickman, like Hooper in his earlier day, prided himself that his irresistible charge must confound, dismay, and paralyze the defence of his opponent. There was certainly something terrific in his attack, for in his earlier battles his head and body seemed insensible to blows, at least they failed to drive him from his purpose or to sensibly affect his strength, cheerfulness, or vigour. At one period it was thought by his over-sanguine admirers that no skill could repel his clever “draw” and his rushing onslaught. Retreat, when once in for a rally, was with him a thing not to be thought of, and he carried all before him. Success is the test and only criterion of the many, and Hickman, despite experience, was over-rated. Out of the ring, Hickman was fond of fun, vivacious, warm-hearted, and friendly; but, as may be supposed, headstrong, violent, and repentant where wrong. Pugilists, more liable to insults than most men, should always control their tempers. It is necessary in the fight, and equally valuable in private life. Our most eminent boxers (see lives of Johnson, Cribb, Spring, etc., for corroboration) have been kind, forbearing, and of equable temper. As a runner, Hickman was known before his ring début, and won several prizes at this and jumping. The early career of Hickman we take upon the credit of “Boxiana,” “the historian” being his contemporary.

THOMAS HICKMAN (“The Gas Man”).

Thomas Hickman was born in Ken Lane, Dudley, Worcestershire, on the 28th of January, 1785. His nurse thought that he showed something like “fight,” even in his cradle; but when Tommy felt the use of his pins, and could toddle out among his play-fellows, he was considered as the most handy little kid amongst them. His skirmishes, when a boy, are too numerous for recital; but it will suffice to state that, in the circle in which he moved, when any of them were in danger of being beaten, it was a common observation amongst them, to intimidate the refractory, that they would fetch “Tom Hickman to lick him!”

Hickman was apprenticed to a steam-engine boiler maker. His first regular combat was with one Sedgeley, in a place called Wednesbury Field.^[19] Sedgeley was disposed of with ease and quickness by young Tom.

John Miller, a coppersmith, was his next opponent in the same field. This match was for one guinea a-side; but Miller proved so good a man that Hickman was one hour and a half before he obtained the victory. Miller was heavily punished about his nob.

Jack Hollis, a glass-blower, a hero who had seen some little service in the milling way at Dudley, was backed for £5 a-side against Hickman. This turned out a very severe battle. Hollis proved himself a good man, although he was defeated in twenty-five minutes.

Luke Walker, a collier, entertained an idea that he could beat Hickman “like winking,” and matched himself against the latter for two guineas; but, in the short space of nineteen minutes, Walker lost his two yellow-boys, and got well thrashed in the bargain.

Hickman now left his native place for the metropolis, to follow his business, and took up his residence in the Borough. It was not long before a customer of the name of Bill Doughty, a blacksmith, offered himself to the notice of our hero, and was finished off cleverly in thirteen minutes, in a field near Gravel Lane.

An Irishman of the name of Hollix, the champion of “the Borough”—then, as in later years, noted for its fighting lads—fancied Hickman, and a match was made for six guineas a-side. Miller seconded Hickman upon this occasion. This was a tremendous fight, in the same field as the last battle, occupying thirty-two minutes, in the course of which Hickman was thrown heavily in nineteen rounds, owing to the superior strength of the Irishman, experiencing several severe cross-buttocks. Hickman at length got a turn, when he caught the Irishman’s hand, held him fast, and planted such a stupefying blow under his listener, that poor Paddy was so much hurt and so much frightened that he requested the bystanders to take him to the hospital.

Jack Thomas, a thirteen stone man, well known in the Borough, was beaten by Hickman in a short, fierce battle. He also accommodated a fellow of the name of Jack Andrews, for £1 a-side, in the Borough, who talked of what great things he had done in the boxing line, and what great things he could still perform; but in the course of seventeen minutes he was so punished as to be glad to resign the contest. Hickman had not the slightest mark upon his face in this encounter.

Seven millwrights belonging to Sir John Rennie’s factory, it is said, were all beaten by Hickman, in a turn-up near the John’s Head, Holland Street. The latter, on leaving the above house, was attacked by this party, and compelled to fight in his own defence. These millwrights afterwards summoned Hickman before the magistrates at Horsemonger Lane; but, on an explanation taking place, Hickman had also the best of the round again before his worship, the first assault being proved.

Hickman was a well made, compact man, by no means so heavy in appearance as he proved to be on going to scale, namely, eleven stone eleven pounds. His height was five feet nine and a half inches. His nob was a fighting one, and his eyes small, being protected by prominent orbital bones. His frame, when stripped, was firm and round, displaying great muscular strength. Hickman was not a showy, but an effective, decisive hitter; perhaps the term of a smashing boxer would be more appropriate. He was, however, a much better fighter than he appeared from his peculiar style of attack.

We believe it was owing to Tom Shelton (who first discovered this milling diamond in the rough) that Hickman exhibited in the prize ring. His out-and-out qualities were whispered to a few of the judges on the sly, and a patron was at length found for him. It was then determined that he should be tried with a promising pugilist; and a match was made between Hickman and young Peter Crawley, for £50 a-side. This came off on Tuesday, March 16, 1819, at Moulsey Hurst.

The morning was threatening, but the enlivening rays of bright Sol chased all gloom, and infused animation, interest, and spirits through the multitude. It might be termed the first turn-out of the fancy for the spring season, and the vehicles were gay and elegant. The presence of a sprinkling of Corinthians gave life to the scene. More interest was excited upon the fight than might have been expected, as both the boxers on point of trial were viewed as new ones to the ring. Hickman, although a light subject in himself, was, to the amateurs, completely a dark one. “What sort of a chap is he?” “What has he done?” “Has he ever fought anybody?” were repeatedly asked, and as repeatedly answered, “That no one knew anything about him.” It was, however, generally understood that he was very strong; but it was urged, as a sort of drawback, that he had too much chaffing about him. On the other hand, though “Young Rump Steak” stood high as a glove practitioner, his strength and stamina were doubted. He was a youth of not more than nineteen years of age, nearly six feet high, twelve stone in weight, but thought to have more gristle than bone; however, the keen air of Hampstead, added to good training, had not only produced an improvement of his frame, but had reduced the odds against him, and, on the morning of fighting, it was, in a great measure, even betting, or “Young Peter” for choice. The importance of the “Man of Gas” was kept up by his trainer, Tom Shelton, who confidently asserted that if Hickman did not win he would quit the boxing ring, and take up a quiet abode in the bosom of Father Thames, Oliver also declaring that he would follow his namesake’s example if their “Tom” did not win in a canter. Such was the state of affairs when the moment arrived for the appearance of the heroes on the plains of Moulsey. Hickman showed first in the ring and threw up his castor, attended by his seconds, Oliver and Shelton. Crawley soon followed, waited upon by Painter and Jones. The colours were tied to the stakes, and at one o’clock the men set-to.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The Gas-light blade seemed well primed as a “four pound burner,” and eager to eclipse his opponent with his superior brilliancy. He showed fight instantly, rushed upon his opponent, and gave Young Rump Steak a mugger, but it did not prove effective. Crawley endeavoured to retreat from the boring qualities of his antagonist, and tapped Hickman over his guard. The latter went in, almost laughing at the science against him, and Crawley could not resist his efforts with anything like a stopper. He also received a desperate hit upon his right ear, that not only drew the claret, but floored him. In going down he unfortunately hit his head against a stake. (“Well done, my Gassy,” from the Light Company; and seven to four offered upon him.)

2.—The appearance of Crawley was completely altered. He was groggy from the effects of the last blow and the contact with the stake. The Gas Man let fly sans cérémonie, and the nob of his opponent was pinked in all directions. His nose received a heavy hit, and he went down covered with claret. (£10 to £5 upon Hickman.)

3.—It was evident that Crawley had not strength enough in the first round, but now he was quite reduced. He, however, showed good pluck, put in some hits that marked his opponent, and swelled up his left eye like a roll; but he was punished in return dreadfully, and again went down. (Three to one, but no takers.)

4.—Crawley received a terrible hit in the throat, and fell on his back, with his arms extended, quite exhausted. (Five to one.)

5.—Crawley set-to with more spirit than could have been expected. He planted some facers; but the force of his opponent operated like a torrent—the stream appeared to carry him away. He was punished up to the ropes, and then floored upon his face. (Seven to one.)

6.—The pluck of Crawley was good; he tried to make a change, but without effect; he received a nobber that sent him staggering away, quite abroad, and fell down.

7.—This was a desperate round, and Crawley gave hit for hit till the Gas-light Man’s face blazed again; but Crawley was exhausted, and both went down. (“Go along, Crawley; such another round, and you can’t lose it.”) It was almost give and take hitting.

8.—Crawley also fought manfully this round; but he had no chance, and the Gas Man again sent him down. (All betters, but no takers.)

9.—The right hand of Hickman was tremendous. Crawley’s nob completely in chancery, and he was milled out of the ring.

10.—This round was similar to the famous one between Painter and Sutton during their first fight. Crawley was so severely hit from the scratch that he never put up his hands. (“Take him away,” from all parts of the ring.)

11.—This round was nearly as bad; but the game of Young Rump Steak was much praised. The Gas Man did not go without some sharp punishment.

12.—Crawley floored in a twinkling. Long, very long, before this period it was “Tom Cribb’s Memorial to Congress” to a penny chant. Crawley could not resist the heavy hitting of his opponent.

13 and last.—The Gas-light Man had completely put his opponent in darkness, and he only appeared this round to receive the coup de grace. Thirteen minutes and a half finished the affair.

Remarks.—The Gas Man retained all his blaze; in fact, he burnt brighter in his own opinion than before. However, he was pronounced by the cognoscenti not a good fighter. Indeed, a few words will suffice. Hickman appeared too fond of rushing to mill his opponent, regardless of the result to himself, and often hit with his left hand open. The good judges thought well of the Gas-light Man from the specimen he had displayed, yet urged that there was great room for improvement; and when possessing the advantage of science, he would doubtless prove a teaser to all of his own, and even above, his weight. Crawley had outgrown his strength.

In this battle Hickman injured one of his hands severely in the third round; indeed, he kept looking at one of his fingers, and complained of it to his second, Tom Shelton. The latter, with much bluntness, told him “to hold his chaffing; such conduct was not the way to win; he was not hurt!” The Gas-light Man took the hint, and was silent during the remainder of the battle. In a few days after the fight his hand was so painful, and had assumed such a livid appearance, that he was compelled to have the advice of a surgeon. On examination it was found one of his fingers had been broken.

The Gas-light Man was now looked upon as somebody by the fancy; and several matches were talked over for him, but they all went off except the following, which was made up in a very hasty manner, for a purse of £20, at the Tennis Court, at Cy. Davis’s benefit.

In this contest Hickman entered the lists with the scientific George Cooper, at Farnham Royal, Dawney Common, near Stowe, Buckinghamshire, twenty-four miles from London, on Tuesday, March 28, 1820, after Cabbage and Martin had left the ring. This contest was previously termed fine science against downright ruffianism, and seven to four and two to one was the current betting on Cooper without the slightest hesitation. On entering the ring the latter looked pale; but when he stripped, his frame had an elegant appearance. He had for his seconds Oliver and Bill Gibbons. Hickman was under the guidance of Randall and Shelton. Hickman laughed in the most confident manner, observing, “That he was sure to win.” Previously to the combatants commencing the battle, Mr. Jackson called them both to him, stating the amount of the subscriptions he had collected for the winner. “I am quite satisfied,” replied Hickman; “I will fight, if it is only for a glass of gin!” This sort of braggadocio quite puzzled all the swells, and the Gas-light Man was put down as a great boaster, or an out-and-outer extraordinary. Notwithstanding all the confidence of Hickman, the well-known superior science possessed by George Cooper rendered him decidedly the favourite.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On setting-to Cooper placed himself in an elegant position, and a few seconds passed in sparring and in getting room to make play. Every eye was on the watch for the superiority of Cooper; but the rapidity of attack made by the Gas Man was so overwhelming that he drove Cooper to the ropes, and the exchange of hits was terrific, till Cooper went down like a shot, out of the ropes, from a terrible blow on the tip of his nose, with his face pinked all over. (The shouting was tremendous: “Bravo, Gas! it’s all up with his science.”)

2.—The impetuosity of the Gas Man positively electrified the spectators. He went in to mill Cooper with complete indifference. Cooper’s face was quite changed; he seemed almost choked. Nevertheless, as the Gas was coming in with downright ferocity, Cooper planted a tremendous facer, right in the middle of the head. This blow, heavy as it was, only made the Gas Man shake his head a little, as if he wished to throw something off; but in renewing the attack, Hickman slipped down from a slight hit. (Great shouting, and “The Gas-light Man is a rum one.” The odds had dropped materially, and Hickman was taken for choice.)

3.—The face of Hickman now showed the talents of Cooper, and he was hit down on one knee; but the former instantly jumped up to renew the attack, when Cooper sat himself down on his second’s knee, to finish the round.

4.—Gas followed Cooper all over the ring, and hit him down. (Tumultuous shouting. Two to one on Gas.)

5.—The fine science of Cooper had its advantages in this round. He planted some desperate facers with great success, and the nob of his opponent bled profusely. In struggling for the throw, both down, but Gas undermost. (By way of a cordial to Cooper, some of his friends shouted, Cooper for £100.)

6.—This was a truly terrific round, and Cooper showed that he could hit tremendously as well as his opponent. Facer for facer was exchanged without fear or delay, and Cooper got away from some heavy blows. In closing, both down.

7.—The assaults of the Gas Man were so terrible that Cooper, with all his fine fighting, could not reduce his courage. Hickman would not be denied. The latter got nobbed prodigiously. In struggling for the throw, Cooper got his adversary down. (“Well done, George.”)

8.—The Gas Man seemed to commence this round rather cautiously, and began to spar, as if for wind. (“If you spar,” said Randall, “you’ll be licked. You must go in and fight.”) The hitting on both sides was severe. The Gas Man got Cooper on the ropes, and punished him so terribly that “Foul!” and “Fair!” was loudly vociferated, till Cooper went down quite weak.

9.—The Gas Man, from his impetuous mode of attack, appeared as if determined to finish Cooper off-hand. The latter had scarcely left his second’s knee, when Hickman ran up to him and planted a severe facer. Cooper was quite feeble; he was hit down.

10.—In this round Cooper was hit down, exhausted, and picked up nearly senseless. (“It’s all up,” was the cry; in fact, numbers left their places, thinking it impossible for Cooper again to meet his antagonist.)

11.—In the anxiety of the moment several of the spectators thought the time very long before it was called, and, to their great astonishment, Cooper was again brought to the scratch. He showed fight till he was sent down. (“Bravo, Cooper! you are a game fellow indeed.”)

12.—This was a complete ruffian round on both sides. The Gas Man’s nob was a picture of punishment. Cooper astonished the ring from the gameness he displayed, and the manly way in which he stood up to his adversary, giving hit for hit till both went down.

13.—It was evident that Cooper had never recovered from the severity of the blow he had received on the tip of his nose in the first round. “It’s all up,” was the cry; but Cooper fought in the most courageous style till he went down.

14.—Cooper, although weak, was still a troublesome customer. He fought with his adversary, giving hit for hit, till he was down.

15.—This round was so well contested as to claim admiration from all parts of the ring, and “Well done on both sides,” was loudly vociferated. Cooper was distressed beyond measure; he, nevertheless, opposed Hickman with blow for blow till he fell.

16 and last.—Without something like a miracle it was impossible for Cooper to win. He, however, manfully contended for victory, making exchanges, till both the combatants went down. When time was called, Hickman appeared at the scratch, but Cooper was too exhausted to leave his second’s knee, and Hickman was proclaimed the conqueror, amidst the shouts of his friends. The battle was over in the short space of fourteen minutes and a half.

Remarks.—The courage exhibited by Cooper was equal to anything ever witnessed, but he was so ill before he left the ring that some fears were entertained for his safety. After the astonishment had subsided a little, the question round the ring was, “Who on the present list can beat Hickman?” The courage and confidence of Hickman seemed so indomitable that he entered the ring certain of victory. Both combatants were terribly punished, and Cooper showed himself as game a man as ever pulled off a shirt. The Gas Man, it was observed, used his right hand only.

In consequence of Hickman being informed that Cooper wished for another battle, he put forth the following challenge in the Weekly Dispatch, October 8, 1820.

“To George Cooper, Britannia Tavern, Edinburgh.

“Sir,—

“Having seen a letter written by you from Edinburgh to Tom Belcher, at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, stating that you wished I would give you the preference respecting another battle between us, I now publicly inform you that I am ready to fight you for any sum that may suit you; and, as a proof that I am ready to accommodate you according to your request, it is indifferent to me whether it is in London or Edinburgh. But if at the latter place, I shall expect my expenses of training to be paid, and also the expenses of the journey of my second and bottle-holder. Having proved the conqueror, I felt myself satisfied, and had no idea of another contest; but I cannot refuse a challenge.

“Yours, etc.,

“T. HICKMAN.

“October 7, 1820.”

This produced the desired result, and, over a sporting dinner, in October, 1820, at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, a match was made between Hickman and Cooper, for £100 a-side, to take place on the 20th of December, within twenty-four miles of London, Tom Belcher putting a deposit of £5 on the part of Cooper, the latter being at Edinburgh. A further deposit to be made on the 7th of November, of £20 a-side. The odds immediately were sixty to forty in favour of Hickman. But the £5 was forfeited, and the match off, for the reasons stated in the memoir of George Cooper, ante, p. 317.

A match was proposed between Hickman and Kendrick, the man of colour, for 25 guineas a-side. But in a previous trial set-to, at the Fives Court, the man of colour was so dead beat with the gloves that Kendrick’s backers took the alarm, and were quite satisfied that he had not the shadow of a chance. The superiority of Hickman was so evident that no person could be found to back poor Blacky. Hickman treated the capabilities of Kendrick with the utmost contempt, milled him all over the stage, and begged of him to have another round just by way of a finish. Yet this man of colour proved a tiresome customer both to the scientific George Cooper and the game Tom Oliver.

The second match between Hickman and Cooper excited intense interest, as this new trial was regarded as a question of skill against Hickman’s bull-dog rush. The day was fixed for the 11th of April, 1821, and Harpenden Common, twenty-five miles from London, and three from St. Alban’s, was the fixture. So soon as the important secret was known, lots toddled off on the Tuesday evening, in order to be comfortable, blow a cloud on the road, and be near the scene of action. The inhabitants of Barnet and St. Alban’s were taken by surprise, from the great influx of company which suddenly filled the above places. The sporting houses in London also experienced an overflow of the fancy; and the merits of the Gas Man and Cooper were the general theme of conversation. Six to four was the current betting; but in several instances seven to four had been sported. Early on the Wednesday morning the Edgeware and Barnet roads were covered with vehicles of every description, and the inns were completely besieged to obtain refreshment. The inhabitants of St. Alban’s were out of doors, wondering what sort of people these Lunnuners must be, who spent their time and money so gaily. The place for fighting had been well chosen—the ground was dry, and the ring capacious. Pugilists were employed to beat out the outer ring, and had new whips presented to them, on which were engraved “P. C.”

At one o’clock the Gas Man appeared and threw his hat into the twenty-four feet square. He applied an orange to his lips, and was laughing and nodding to his friends with the utmost confidence. He had a blue bird’s eye about his neck. He was followed by Randall and Shelton. In a few minutes afterwards, Cooper, in a brown great coat, with a yellow handkerchief about his neck, attended by Belcher and Harmer, threw his hat into the ring with equal confidence. Cooper went up to the Gas Man, shook him by the hand, and asked him how he was in his health. Two umpires were immediately chosen; and, in case of dispute, a referee was named. Mr. Jackson informed the seconds and bottle-holders that, upon the men setting-to, they were all to retire to the corners of the ring, and that when time was called the men were to be immediately brought to the scratch. The greatest anxiety prevailed. A few persons betted seven to four on Hickman as the men stood up.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On stripping, the appearance of Hickman was fine, and no man ever had more attention paid him, being trained in a right sporting place, where many gentlemen belonging to the Hertfordshire Hunt had an opportunity of watching him. Cooper looked pale, and his legs had not quite recovered from a severe attack of boils. It was evident Cooper was not in tip-top condition; in fact, the time was too short to get his legs well. On setting-to, little sparring occurred; Cooper, with much science, broke away from the furious attacks of the Gas-light Man. The latter, however, followed him, and planted two slight hits, when Cooper kept retreating; but on Hickman’s rushing in furiously to plant a hit, Cooper, with the utmost severity, met him with a most tremendous left-handed hit on the left cheek, just under his eye, that floored him like a shot, and his knees went under him. (To describe the shouting would be impossible; and several persons roared out, “Cooper for £100!” and “The Gas must lose it.” Even betting was offered, and some roared out seven to four.)

2 and last.—The Gas Man came up rather heavy: it was a stunning hit; his cheek was swelled, and the claret appeared on it. He, however, was not at all dismayed, and went to work with the utmost gaiety. Cooper broke ground in great style, but missed several hits; if any one of these had told, perhaps it might have decided the battle. Hickman followed him close to the ropes, at which Cooper, finding himself bored in upon by his opponent, endeavoured to put in a stopper, but the blow passed by the head of his adversary, when Hickman, in the most prompt and astonishing manner, put in a tremendous hit, which alighted just under Cooper’s ear, that not only floored him, but sent him out of the ropes like a shot. Belcher and Harmer could not lift him up, and when time was called he was as dead as a house, and could not come to the scratch. The sensation round the ring cannot be depicted: and the spectators were in a state of alarm. Cooper was thus disposed of in the short space of three minutes. The Gas-light Man also seemed amazed: he was quite a stranger to the state of Cooper, and asked why they did not bring him to the scratch. Belcher endeavoured to lift Cooper off Harmer’s knee, when his head, in a state of stupor, immediately dropped. “Why, he is licked,” cried Randall. The circumstance was so singular, that, for the instant, Randall and Shelton seemed at a loss to know what to do, till, recollecting themselves, they appealed to the umpires, and took Hickman out of the ring, put him in a post-chaise, and drove off for St. Alban’s. In the course of a minute or so Cooper recovered from his trance, but was quite unable to recollect what had occurred; he said to Belcher, “What! have I been fighting?” declaring that he felt as if he had just awoke out of a dream: he appeared in a state of confusion, and did not know where he had been hit. A gentleman came forward and offered to back Cooper for £50 to fight the Gas Man immediately, and Cooper, with the utmost game, appeared in the ring; but Hickman had left the ground. The Gas Man was most punished.

Remarks.—Instead of making any remarks upon the above fight, it might be more proper to say, that the Phenomenon (Dutch Sam), the Nonpareil (Jack Randall), the Champion of England, Tom Johnson, Big Ben, Jem Belcher, the Chicken, Gully, Tom Cribb, etc.—without offering the least disparagement to their courage and abilities—never accomplished anything like the following:—Hickman won three prize battles in thirty-one minutes.

He defeated	Crawley in	13½ minutes.
〃	Cooper 〃	14½ 〃
〃	Ditto 〃	3 〃
		31

The preliminaries of Hickman’s match with Tom Oliver are given in that boxer’s life, we shall therefore merely detail the doings of the day of battle.

On Tuesday, June 12, 1821, at an early hour, the road was covered with vehicles of every description, and numerous barouches and four were filled with swells of the first quality to witness the Gas again exhibit his extraordinary pugilistic powers. The Greyhound, at Croydon, was the rallying point for the swells. The fight was a good turn for the road; the lively groups in rapid motion, the blunt dropping like waste paper, and no questions asked, made all parties pleasant and happy. The fun on the road to a mill is one of the merry things of the days that are gone; more character was to be seen there than ever assembled at a masquerade. View the swell handle his ribands and push his tits along with as much ease as he would trifle with a lady’s necklace, the “bit of blood” thinking it no sin to hurl the dirt in people’s eyes; the drags full of merry coves; the puffers and blowers; the dennets; the tandems; the out-riggers; the wooden coachmen, complete dummies as to “getting out of the way;” the Corinthian fours; the Bermondsey tumblers; the high and low life—the genteel, middling, respectable, and tidy sort of chaps, all eager in one pursuit; with here and there a fancy man’s pretty little toy giving the “go-by” in rare style, form altogether a rich scene—the blues are left behind, and laughter is the order of the day. Such is a print sketch of what going to a mill was in days of yore.

It was two to one all round the ring before the combatants made their appearance, and at one o’clock, almost at the same moment, Oliver and Hickman threw their hats into the ropes. Oliver was attended by Harmer and Josh. Hudson; the Gas Man was waited upon by Spring and Shelton. This trio sported white hats. The colours, yellow for Oliver and blue for the Gas, were then tied to the stakes. On Oliver entering the ring he went up to the Gas-light Man smiling, shook hands with him, and asked him how he did, which was returned in a most friendly manner by Hickman. On tossing up for the side to avoid the rays of the sun, Hickman said, “It’s a woman; I told you I should win it.” He appeared in striped silk stockings; and, on stripping, patted himself with confidence, as much as to infer, “Behold my good condition.” Some little difficulty occurred in selecting umpires.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Considerable caution was observed; each dodged the other a little while, made offers to hit, and got away. The Gas endeavoured to plant a blow, but it fell short, from the retreating system adopted by Oliver. The Gas again endeavoured to make a hit, which alighted on Oliver’s right arm; the latter, by way of derision, patted it and laughed. Oliver was now at the ropes, and some exchanges took place; but in a close Oliver broke away, and a small pause ensued. Hickman at length went to work, and his execution was so tremendous in a close that the face of Oliver was changed to a state of stupor, and both went down. Oliver was picked up instantly, but he was quite abroad; he looked wildly, his left ear bleeding; and the cry was, “It’s all up, he cannot come again.” Indeed it was the general opinion that Oliver would not be able again to appear at the scatch. However, the Gas did not come off without a sharp taste of the powers of the Old One.

2.—Oliver was bad; in fact, he was “shaken.” His heart was as good as ever, but his energy was reduced: he got away from a hit. The Gas now put in so tremendous a facer that it was heard all over the ring, and Oliver was bleeding at the mouth. In closing, Oliver tried to fib his opponent, but it was useless; the Gas held him as tight as if he had been in a vice till they both went down. Oliver was so punished and exhausted that several persons cried out, “It’s of no use, take the Old ’un away.”

3.—The scene was so changed that twenty guineas to two were laid upon Hickman. The latter smiled with confidence on witnessing the execution he had done; but the game displayed by Oliver was above all praise: he appeared, after being hallooed at by his seconds, a shade better, and he fought a severe round. The Gas received a terrible body hit, and some other severe exchanges took place. The cunning of Gas was here witnessed in an extraordinary degree; with his left hand open, which appeared in the first instance as if his fingers went into the mouth of Oliver, he put the head of Oliver a-side, and with a dreadful hit, which he made on the back part of his opponent’s nob, sent him down on his face. A lump as big as a roll immediately rose upon it. The Gas in this round was very much distressed; his mouth was open, and it seemed to be the opinion of several of the amateurs that he was not in such high condition as when he fought Cooper, or he must have finished the battle. The Gas once stood still and looked at his opponent; but Oliver could not take advantage of it.

4.—Hickman endeavoured to plant his desperate right hand upon Oliver’s face, but missed and fell. Oliver, in trying to make a hit in return, fell over Hickman; the Gas laughed and winked to his second. It was, perhaps, a fortunate circumstance that Hickman missed this hit, as it might have proved Oliver’s quietus.

5.—The left eye of the Gas was rather touched; but his confidence astonished the ring. The confident look of Hickman developed his mind. Oliver broke away, and also jobbed the Gas-light Man’s nob; but as to anything like hitting, it was out of him. Hickman not only bored in upon Oliver, but punished him till he went down stupid. (Hickman for any odds.)

6.—Oliver came up to the scratch heavy, but he smiled and got away from the finishing hit of his opponent. Singular to observe, in closing, Oliver, by a sort of slewing throw, sent the Gas off his legs, and he was almost out of the ring. (The applause given to Oliver was like a roar of artillery.) The Gas got up with the utmost sang froid.

7.—Oliver put in a facer, but it made no impression; and the Gas with his left hand again felt for his distance against Oliver’s nob, and the blows he planted in Oliver’s face were terrific. The strength and confidence of Hickman was like that of a giant to a boy.

8.—Oliver came up almost dozing, and began to fight as if from instinct. Hickman now made his right and left hand tell upon Oliver’s head, when the latter went down like a log of wood. (It was £100 to a farthing. “Take him away; he has not a shadow of a chance.”)

9 and last.—Oliver, game to the end, appeared at the scratch and put up his arms to fight, when the pepper administered by the Gas was so hot that he went down in a state of stupor. The Gas said to his second, “I have done it; he will not come again.” Oliver was picked up and placed on his second’s knee, but fell, and when time was called could not move. Hickman immediately jumped up and said, “I can lick another Oliver now;” and finding that this boast was in bad taste, and met no response, even from his own partisans, he, upon second thoughts, went up and shook Oliver by the hand. Medical assistance being at hand, Oliver was bled and conveyed to the nearest house. He did not come to himself rightly for nearly two hours. It was all over in twelve minutes and a half.

Remarks.—Thus, in less than three-quarters of an hour, had Hickman conquered in succession, Crawley, Cooper (twice), and Oliver. In quickness he came the nearest to the late Jem Belcher; but the Gas could not fight so well with both hands. Perhaps it might be more correct to compare him with the Game Chicken; yet the latter was a more finished and more careful fighter than Hickman. It is, however, but common justice to say of the Gas, that his confidence was unexampled. He went up to the head of his opponent to commence the fight with such certainty of success as almost enforced and asserted victory. He thought himself invulnerable before, but this conquest convinced him he was invincible, and he immediately offered as a challenge to all England, once within four or six months, to fight any man, and give a stone. It is useless to talk against stale men: Oliver fought like a hero, and it was generally said “that a man must be made on purpose to beat the Gas.” The latter was so little hurt that he walked about the ring, and played two or three games at billiards at Croydon, on his way to London. Forty-five pounds were collected for the brave but unfortunate Oliver. The backer of the Gas was so much pleased with his conduct that he ordered the President of the Daffies,^[20] who held the stakes of £200, to give Hickman the whole of them.

Oliver, on his return to London the same evening, after he had recovered a little from the effects of this battle, called in at the Greyhound, at Croydon, when Hickman presented him with a couple of guineas. The backer of Hickman also gave Oliver five guineas; and several other gentlemen who were present were not unmindful of the courage he had displayed.

The decisive conquests of Hickman had placed him so high in the estimation of the fancy, and he was upon such excellent terms with himself, that he would not hear of a question as to his ability to conquer any pugilist on the list. In conversation on the subject, he often insisted that he was certain he could lick Cribb; and also frequently wished “that Jem Belcher was alive, that he might have had an opportunity of showing the sporting world with what ease he would have conquered that renowned boxer.” Hickman asserted he did not value size or strength; and the bigger his opponents were the better he liked them. In consequence of this sort of boasting at various times, and also upon the completion of the stakes between Randall and Martin, in August, 1821, at the Hole-in-the-Wall, Chancery Lane, a trifling bet was offered that no person present would make a match between Hickman and Neat. A gentleman immediately stepped forward and said Neat should fight Hickman either for £100 or £200 a-side, and he would instantly put down the money. This circumstance operated as a stopper, and the match went off. In another instance, the backers of the Bristol hero sported £100 at Tattersall’s, on Thursday, September 13, 1821, to put down to make a match; but the friends of Gas would not cover. It certainly was no match as to size; but, as the friends of Neat observed, “Neat has no right to be chaffed about it, as his £200 is ready at a moment’s notice.”

The match at length was knocked up in a hurry over a glass of wine, a deposit made, and the following articles of agreement entered into:—

“Castle Tavern, October 13, 1821.

“Thomas Belcher, on the part of W. Neat, and an amateur on the part of Hickman, have made a deposit of 25 guineas a-side, to make it 100 guineas a-side, on Monday, the 20th inst. The money is placed in the hands of the President of the Daffy Club. To be a fair stand-up fight; half-minute time. The match to take place on the 11th of December, half-way between Bristol and London. An umpire to be chosen on each side, and a referee upon the ground. The battle-money to be 200 guineas a-side, and to be made good, a fortnight before fighting, at Belcher’s.”

Immediately on the above articles being signed five to four was betted on Hickman. Neat, it was said, would be nearly two stone heavier than the Gas-light Man. It will be recollected that both Neat and Hickman defeated Oliver, but with this vast difference—Neat won it after a long fight of one hour and thirty-one minutes, and during the battle it was once so much in favour of Oliver that £100 to £3 was offered, and no takers; while, on the contrary, the Gas defeated Oliver in twelve minutes, without giving the latter boxer a shadow of chance. Neat had appeared only once in the prize ring; he was a great favourite at Bristol, and one of the finest made men in the kingdom. He was also said to be much improved in pugilistic science.

The name of the Gas, on Thursday, December 5, 1821, proved attractive to the fancy at the Tennis Court in the Haymarket. The “Gas” was loudly called for, when the Master of the Ceremonies, with a grin on his mug, said, “It shall be turned on immediately.” Hickman, laughing, ascended the steps, made his bow, and put on the gloves, but did not take off his flannel jacket. Shelton followed close at his heels, when the combat commenced. The spirit and activity displayed by the Gas claimed universal attention: he was as lively as an eel, skipped about with the agility of a dancing master, and his decided mode of dealing with his opponent was so conspicuous that it seemed to say to the amateurs, “Look at me; you see I am as confident as if it was over.” The hitting was not desperate on either side, except in one instance, when the Gas let fly as if he had forgotten himself. Both Shelton and Hickman were loudly applauded.

The details of the exciting contest between our hero and Neat, on Tuesday, December 11, 1821, will be found in the memoir of Neat. It came off sixty-seven miles from London, on Hungerford Downs, and produced perhaps in its progress and results as great an excitement as any contest on record. Neat and the Gas-light Man met at Mr. Jackson’s rooms on Friday, December 15, when they shook hands without animosity. Neat generously presented Hickman with £5. The latter afterwards acknowledged that Neat was too long for him, and that, in endeavouring to make his hits tell he over-reached himself, and was nearly falling on his face. Hickman also compared the severe hit he received on his right eye to a large stone thrown at his head, which stunned him. Neat was afraid to make use of his right hand often, in consequence of having broken his thumb about ten weeks before, and it was very painful and deficient in strength during the battle.