________________________________________________
_ And now the day of the great fight began to approach. Even the
imminent outbreak of war and the renewed threats of Napoleon were
secondary things in the eyes of the sportsmen--and the sportsmen in
those days made a large half of the population. In the club of the
patrician and the plebeian gin-shop, in the coffee-house of the
merchant or the barrack of the soldier, in London or the provinces,
the same question was interesting the whole nation. Every west-
country coach brought up word of the fine condition of Crab Wilson,
who had returned to his own native air for his training, and was
known to be under the immediate care of Captain Barclay, the expert.
On the other hand, although my uncle had not yet named his man,
there was no doubt amongst the public that Jim was to be his
nominee, and the report of his physique and of his performance found
him many backers. On the whole, however, the betting was in favour
of Wilson, for Bristol and the west country stood by him to a man,
whilst London opinion was divided. Three to two were to be had on
Wilson at any West End club two days before the battle.
I had twice been down to Crawley to see Jim in his training
quarters, where I found him undergoing the severe regimen which was
usual. From early dawn until nightfall he was running, jumping,
striking a bladder which swung upon a bar, or sparring with his
formidable trainer. His eyes shone and his skin glowed with
exuberent health, and he was so confident of success that my own
misgivings vanished as I watched his gallant bearing and listened to
his quiet and cheerful words.
"But I wonder that you should come and see me now, Rodney," said he,
when we parted, trying to laugh as he spoke. "I have become a
bruiser and your uncle's paid man, whilst you are a Corinthian upon
town. If you had not been the best and truest little gentleman in
the world, you would have been my patron instead of my friend before
now."
When I looked at this splendid fellow, with his high-bred, clean-cut
face, and thought of the fine qualities and gentle, generous
impulses which I knew to lie within him, it seemed so absurd that he
should speak as though my friendship towards him were a
condescension, that I could not help laughing aloud.
"That is all very well, Rodney," said he, looking hard into my eyes.
"But what does your uncle think about it?"
This was a poser, and I could only answer lamely enough that, much
as I was indebted to my uncle, I had known Jim first, and that I was
surely old enough to choose my own friends.
Jim's misgivings were so far correct that my uncle did very strongly
object to any intimacy between us; but there were so many other
points in which he disapproved of my conduct, that it made the less
difference. I fear that he was already disappointed in me. I would
not develop an eccentricity, although he was good enough to point
out several by which I might "come out of the ruck," as he expressed
it, and so catch the attention of the strange world in which he
lived.
"You are an active young fellow, nephew," said he. "Do you not
think that you could engage to climb round the furniture of an
ordinary room without setting foot upon the ground? Some little
tour-de-force of the sort is in excellent taste. There was a
captain in the Guards who attained considerable social success by
doing it for a small wager. Lady Lieven, who is exceedingly
exigeant, used to invite him to her evenings merely that he might
exhibit it."
I had to assure him that the feat would be beyond me.
"You are just a little difficile," said he, shrugging his shoulders.
"As my nephew, you might have taken your position by perpetuating my
own delicacy of taste. If you had made bad taste your enemy, the
world of fashion would willingly have looked upon you as an arbiter
by virtue of your family traditions, and you might without a
struggle have stepped into the position to which this young upstart
Brummell aspires. But you have no instinct in that direction. You
are incapable of minute attention to detail. Look at your shoes!
Look at your cravat! Look at your watch-chain! Two links are
enough to show. I HAVE shown three, but it was an indiscretion. At
this moment I can see no less than five of yours. I regret it,
nephew, but I do not think that you are destined to attain that
position which I have a right to expect from my blood relation."
"I am sorry to be a disappointment to you, sir," said I.
"It is your misfortune not to have come under my influence earlier,"
said he. "I might then have moulded you so as to have satisfied
even my own aspirations. I had a younger brother whose case was a
similar one. I did what I could for him, but he would wear ribbons
in his shoes, and he publicly mistook white Burgundy for Rhine wine.
Eventually the poor fellow took to books, and lived and died in a
country vicarage. He was a good man, but he was commonplace, and
there is no place in society for commonplace people."
"Then I fear, sir, that there is none for me," said I. "But my
father has every hope that Lord Nelson will find me a position in
the fleet. If I have been a failure in town, I am none the less
conscious of your kindness in trying to advance my interests, and I
hope that, should I receive my commission, I may be a credit to you
yet."
"It is possible that you may attain the very spot which I had marked
out for you, but by another road," said my uncle. "There are many
men in town, such as Lord St. Vincent, Lord Hood, and others, who
move in the most respectable circles, although they have nothing but
their services in the Navy to recommend them."
It was on the afternoon of the day before the fight that this
conversation took place between my uncle and myself in the dainty
sanctum of his Jermyn-Street house. He was clad, I remember, in his
flowing brocade dressing-gown, as was his custom before he set off
for his club, and his foot was extended upon a stool--for Abernethy
had just been in to treat him for an incipient attack of the gout.
It may have been the pain, or it may have been his disappointment at
my career, but his manner was more testy than was usual with him,
and I fear that there was something of a sneer in his smile as he
spoke of my deficiencies. For my own part I was relieved at the
explanation, for my father had left London in the full conviction
that a vacancy would speedily be found for us both, and the one
thing which had weighed upon my mind was that I might have found it
hard to leave my uncle without interfering with the plans which he
had formed. I was heart-weary of this empty life, for which I was
so ill-fashioned, and weary also of that intolerant talk which would
make a coterie of frivolous women and foolish fops the central point
of the universe. Something of my uncle's sneer may have flickered
upon my lips as I heard him allude with supercilious surprise to the
presence in those sacrosanct circles of the men who had stood
between the country and destruction.
"By the way, nephew," said he, "gout or no gout, and whether
Abernethy likes it or not, we must be down at Crawley to-night. The
battle will take place upon Crawley Downs. Sir Lothian Hume and his
man are at Reigate. I have reserved beds at the George for both of
us. The crush will, it is said, exceed anything ever known. The
smell of these country inns is always most offensive to me--mais que
voulez-vous? Berkeley Craven was saying in the club last night that
there is not a bed within twenty miles of Crawley which is not
bespoke, and that they are charging three guineas for the night. I
hope that your young friend, if I must describe him as such, will
fulfil the promise which he has shown, for I have rather more upon
the event than I care to lose. Sir Lothian has been plunging also--
he made a single bye-bet of five thousand to three upon Wilson in
Limmer's yesterday. From what I hear of his affairs it will be a
serious matter for him if we should pull it off. Well, Lorimer?"
"A person to see you, Sir Charles," said the new valet.
"You know that I never see any one until my dressing is complete."
"He insists upon seeing you, sir. He pushed open the door."
"Pushed it open! What d'you mean, Lorimer? Why didn't you put him
out?"
A smile passed over the servant's face. At the same moment there
came a deep voice from the passage.
"You show me in this instant, young man, d'ye 'ear? Let me see your
master, or it'll be the worse for you."
I thought that I had heard the voice before, but when, over the
shoulder of the valet, I caught a glimpse of a large, fleshy, bull-
face, with a flattened Michael Angelo nose in the centre of it, I
knew at once that it was my neighbour at the supper party.
"It's Warr, the prizefighter, sir," said I.
"Yes, sir," said our visitor, pushing his huge form into the room.
"It's Bill Warr, landlord of the One Ton public-'ouse, Jermyn
Street, and the gamest man upon the list. There's only one thing
that ever beat me, Sir Charles, and that was my flesh, which creeps
over me that amazin' fast that I've always got four stone that 'as
no business there. Why, sir, I've got enough to spare to make a
feather-weight champion out of. You'd 'ardly think, to look at me,
that even after Mendoza fought me I was able to jump the four-foot
ropes at the ring-side just as light as a little kiddy; but if I was
to chuck my castor into the ring now I'd never get it till the wind
blew it out again, for blow my dicky if I could climb after. My
respec's to you, young sir, and I 'ope I see you well."
My uncle's face had expressed considerable disgust at this invasion
of his privacy, but it was part of his position to be on good terms
with the fighting-men, so he contented himself with asking curtly
what business had brought him there. For answer the huge
prizefighter looked meaningly at the valet.
"It's important, Sir Charles, and between man and man," said he.
"You may go, Lorimer. Now, Warr, what is the matter?"
The bruiser very calmly seated himself astride of a chair with his
arms resting upon the back of it.
"I've got information, Sir Charles," said he.
"Well, what is it?" cried my uncle, impatiently.
"Information of value."
"Out with it, then!"
"Information that's worth money," said Warr, and pursed up his lips.
"I see. You want to be paid for what you know?"
The prizefighter smiled an affirmative.
"Well, I don't buy things on trust. You should know me better than
to try on such a game with me."
"I know you for what you are, Sir Charles, and that is a noble,
slap-up Corinthian. But if I was to use this against you, d'ye see,
it would be worth 'undreds in my pocket. But my 'eart won't let me
do it, for Bill Warr's always been on the side o' good sport and
fair play. If I use it for you, then I expect that you won't see me
the loser."
"You can do what you like," said my uncle. "If your news is of
service to me, I shall know how to treat you."
"You can't say fairer than that. We'll let it stand there, gov'nor,
and you'll do the 'andsome thing, as you 'ave always 'ad the name
for doin'. Well, then, your man, Jim 'Arisen, fights Crab Wilson,
of Gloucester, at Crawley Down to-morrow mornin' for a stake."
"What of that?"
"Did you 'appen to know what the bettin' was yesterday?"
"It was three to two on Wilson."
"Right you are, gov'nor. Three to two was offered in my own bar-
parlour. D'you know what the bettin' is to-day?"
"I have not been out yet."
"Then I'll tell you. It's seven to one against your man."
"What?"
"Seven to one, gov'nor, no less."
"You're talking nonsense, Warr! How could the betting change from
three to two to seven to one?"
"Ive been to Tom Owen's, and I've been to the 'Ole in the Wall, and
I've been to the Waggon and 'Orses, and you can get seven to one in
any of them. There's tons of money being laid against your man.
It's a 'orse to a 'en in every sportin' 'ouse and boozin' ken from
'ere to Stepney."
For a moment the expression upon my uncle's face made me realize
that this match was really a serious matter to him. Then he
shrugged his shoulders with an incredulous smile.
"All the worse for the fools who give the odds," said he. "My man
is all right. You saw him yesterday, nephew?"
"He was all right yesterday, sir."
"If anything had gone wrong I should have heard."
"But perhaps," said Warr, "it 'as not gone wrong with 'im YET."
"What d'you mean?"
"I'll tell you what I mean, sir. You remember Berks? You know that
'e ain't to be overmuch depended on at any time, and that 'e 'ad a
grudge against your man 'cause 'e laid 'im out in the coach-'ouse.
Well, last night about ten o'clock in 'e comes into my bar, and the
three bloodiest rogues in London at 'is 'eels. There was Red Ike,
'im that was warned off the ring 'cause 'e fought a cross with
Bittoon; and there was Fightin' Yussef, who would sell 'is mother
for a seven-shillin'-bit; the third was Chris McCarthy, who is a
fogle-snatcher by trade, with a pitch outside the 'Aymarket Theatre.
You don't often see four such beauties together, and all with as
much as they could carry, save only Chris, who is too leary a cove
to drink when there's somethin' goin' forward. For my part, I
showed 'em into the parlour, not 'cos they was worthy of it, but
'cos I knew right well they would start bashin' some of my
customers, and maybe get my license into trouble if I left 'em in
the bar. I served 'em with drink, and stayed with 'em just to see
that they didn't lay their 'ands on the stuffed parroquet and the
pictures.
"Well, gov'nor, to cut it short, they began to talk about the fight,
and they all laughed at the idea that young Jim 'Arrison could win
it--all except Chris, and e' kept a-nudging and a-twitchin' at the
others until Joe Berks nearly gave him a wipe across the face for
'is trouble. I saw somethin' was in the wind, and it wasn't very
'ard to guess what it was--especially when Red Ike was ready to put
up a fiver that Jim 'Arrison would never fight at all. So I up to
get another bottle of liptrap, and I slipped round to the shutter
that we pass the liquor through from the private bar into the
parlour. I drew it an inch open, and I might 'ave been at the table
with them, I could 'ear every word that clearly.
"There was Chris McCarthy growlin' at them for not keepin' their
tongues still, and there was Joe Berks swearin' that 'e would knock
'is face in if 'e dared give 'im any of 'is lip. So Chris 'e sort
of argued with them, for 'e was frightened of Berks, and 'e put it
to them whether they would be fit for the job in the mornin', and
whether the gov'nor would pay the money if 'e found they 'ad been
drinkin' and were not to be trusted. This struck them sober, all
three, an' Fighting Yussef asked what time they were to start.
Chris said that as long as they were at Crawley before the George
shut up they could work it. 'It's poor pay for a chance of a rope,'
said Red Ike. 'Rope be damned!' cried Chris, takin' a little loaded
stick out of his side pocket. 'If three of you 'old him down and I
break his arm-bone with this, we've earned our money, and we don't
risk more'n six months' jug.' ''E'll fight,' said Berks. 'Well,
it's the only fight 'e'll get,' answered Chris, and that was all I
'eard of it. This mornin' out I went, and I found as I told you
afore that the money is goin' on to Wilson by the ton, and that no
odds are too long for the layers. So it stands, gov'nor, and you
know what the meanin' of it may be better than Bill Warr can tell
you."
"Very good, Warr," said my uncle, rising. "I am very much obliged
to you for telling me this, and I will see that you are not a loser
by it. I put it down as the gossip of drunken ruffians, but none
the less you have served me vastly by calling my attention to it. I
suppose I shall see you at the Downs to-morrow?"
"Mr. Jackson 'as asked me to be one o' the beaters-out, sir."
"Very good. I hope that we shall have a fair and good fight. Good
day to you, and thank you."
My uncle had preserved his jaunty demeanour as long as Warr was in
the room, but the door had hardly closed upon him before he turned
to me with a face which was more agitated than I had ever seen it.
"We must be off for Crawley at once, nephew," said he, ringing the
bell. "There's not a moment to be lost. Lorimer, order the bays to
be harnessed in the curricle. Put the toilet things in, and tell
William to have it round at the door as soon as possible."
"I'll see to it, sir," said I, and away I ran to the mews in Little
Ryder Street, where my uncle stabled his horses. The groom was
away, and I had to send a lad in search of him, while with the help
of the livery-man I dragged the curricle from the coach-house and
brought the two mares out of their stalls. It was half an hour, or
possibly three-quarters, before everything had been found, and
Lorimer was already waiting in Jermyn Street with the inevitable
baskets, whilst my uncle stood in the open door of his house, clad
in his long fawn-coloured driving-coat, with no sign upon his calm
pale face of the tumult of impatience which must, I was sure, be
raging within.
"We shall leave you, Lorimer," said he. "We might find it hard to
get a bed for you. Keep at her head, William! Jump in, nephew.
Halloa, Warr, what is the matter now?"
The prizefighter was hastening towards us as fast as his bulk would
allow.
"Just one word before you go, Sir Charles," he panted. "I've just
'eard in my taproom that the four men I spoke of left for Crawley at
one o'clock."
"Very good, Warr," said my uncle, with his foot upon the step.
"And the odds 'ave risen to ten to one."
"Let go her head, William!"
"Just one more word, gov'nor. You'll excuse the liberty, but if I
was you I'd take my pistols with me."
"Thank you; I have them."
The long thong cracked between the ears of the leader, the groom
sprang for the pavement, and Jermyn Street had changed for St.
James's, and that again for Whitehall with a swiftness which showed
that the gallant mares were as impatient as their master. It was
half-past four by the Parliament clock as we flew on to Westminster
Bridge. There was the flash of water beneath us, and then we were
between those two long dun-coloured lines of houses which had been
the avenue which had led us to London. My uncle sat with tightened
lips and a brooding brow. We had reached Streatham before he broke
the silence.
"I have a good deal at stake, nephew," said he.
"So have I, sir," I answered.
"You!" he cried, in surprise.
"My friend, sir."
"Ah, yes, I had forgot. You have some eccentricities, after all,
nephew. You are a faithful friend, which is a rare enough thing in
our circles. I never had but one friend of my own position, and he-
-but you've heard me tell the story. I fear it will be dark before
we reach Crawley."
"I fear that it will."
"In that case we may be too late."
"Pray God not, sir!"
"We sit behind the best cattle in England, but I fear lest we find
the roads blocked before we get to Crawley. Did you observe,
nephew, that these four villains spoke in Warr's hearing of the
master who was behind them, and who was paying them for their
infamy? Did you not understand that they were hired to cripple my
man? Who, then, could have hired them? Who had an interest unless
it was--I know Sir Lothian Hume to be a desperate man. I know that
he has had heavy card losses at Watier's and White's. I know also
that he has much at stake upon this event, and that he has plunged
upon it with a rashness which made his friends think that he had
some private reason for being satisfied as to the result. By
Heaven, it all hangs together! If it should be so--!" He relapsed
into silence, but I saw the same look of cold fierceness settle upon
his features which I had marked there when he and Sir John Lade had
raced wheel to wheel down the Godstone road.
The sun sank slowly towards the low Surrey hills, and the shadows
crept steadily eastwards, but the whirr of the wheels and the roar
of the hoofs never slackened. A fresh wind blew upon our faces,
while the young leaves drooped motionless from the wayside branches.
The golden edge of the sun was just sinking behind the oaks of
Reigate Hill when the dripping mares drew up before the Crown at
Redhill. The landlord, an old sportsman and ringsider, ran out to
greet so well-known a Corinthian as Sir Charles Tregellis.
"You know Berks, the bruiser?" asked my uncle.
"Yes, Sir Charles."
"Has he passed?"
"Yes, Sir Charles. It may have been about four o'clock, though with
this crowd of folk and carriages it's hard to swear to it. There
was him, and Red Ike, and Fighting Yussef the Jew, and another, with
a good bit of blood betwixt the shafts. They'd been driving her
hard, too, for she was all in a lather."
"That's ugly, nephew," said my uncle, when we were flying onwards
towards Reigate. "If they drove so hard, it looks as though they
wished to get early to work."
"Jim and Belcher would surely be a match for the four of them," I
suggested.
"If Belcher were with him I should have no fear. But you cannot
tell what diablerie they may be up to. Let us only find him safe
and sound, and I'll never lose sight of him until I see him in the
ring. We'll sit up on guard with our pistols, nephew, and I only
trust that these villains may be indiscreet enough to attempt it.
But they must have been very sure of success before they put the
odds up to such a figure, and it is that which alarms me."
"But surely they have nothing to win by such villainy, sir? If they
were to hurt Jim Harrison the battle could not be fought, and the
bets would not be decided."
"So it would be in an ordinary prize-battle, nephew; and it is
fortunate that it should be so, or the rascals who infest the ring
would soon make all sport impossible. But here it is different. On
the terms of the wager I lose unless I can produce a man, within the
prescribed ages, who can beat Crab Wilson. You must remember that I
have never named my man. C'est dommage, but so it is! We know who
it is and so do our opponents, but the referees and stakeholder
would take no notice of that. If we complain that Jim Harrison has
been crippled, they would answer that they have no official
knowledge that Jim Harrison was our nominee. It's play or pay, and
the villains are taking advantage of it."
My uncle's fears as to our being blocked upon the road were only too
well founded, for after we passed Reigate there was such a
procession of every sort of vehicle, that I believe for the whole
eight miles there was not a horse whose nose was further than a few
feet from the back of the curricle or barouche in front. Every road
leading from London, as well as those from Guildford in the west and
Tunbridge in the east, had contributed their stream of four-in-
hands, gigs, and mounted sportsmen, until the whole broad Brighton
highway was choked from ditch to ditch with a laughing, singing,
shouting throng, all flowing in the same direction. No man who
looked upon that motley crowd could deny that, for good or evil, the
love of the ring was confined to no class, but was a national
peculiarity, deeply seated in the English nature, and a common
heritage of the young aristocrat in his drag and of the rough
costers sitting six deep in their pony cart. There I saw statesmen
and soldiers, noblemen and lawyers, farmers and squires, with roughs
of the East End and yokels of the shires, all toiling along with the
prospect of a night of discomfort before them, on the chance of
seeing a fight which might, for all that they knew, be decided in a
single round. A more cheery and hearty set of people could not be
imagined, and the chaff flew about as thick as the dust clouds,
while at every wayside inn the landlord and the drawers would be out
with trays of foam-headed tankards to moisten those importunate
throats. The ale-drinking, the rude good-fellowship, the
heartiness, the laughter at discomforts, the craving to see the
fight--all these may be set down as vulgar and trivial by those to
whom they are distasteful; but to me, listening to the far-off and
uncertain echoes of our distant past, they seem to have been the
very bones upon which much that is most solid and virile in this
ancient race was moulded.
But, alas for our chance of hastening onwards! Even my uncle's
skill could not pick a passage through that moving mass. We could
but fall into our places and be content to snail along from Reigate
to Horley and on to Povey Cross and over Lowfield Heath, while day
shaded away into twilight, and that deepened into night. At
Kimberham Bridge the carriage-lamps were all lit, and it was
wonderful, where the road curved downwards before us, to see this
writhing serpent with the golden scales crawling before us in the
darkness. And then, at last, we saw the formless mass of the huge
Crawley elm looming before us in the gloom, and there was the broad
village street with the glimmer of the cottage windows, and the high
front of the old George Inn, glowing from every door and pane and
crevice, in honour of the noble company who were to sleep within
that night. _
Read next: CHAPTER XV - FOUL PLAY
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