“Whenever John Bull does not see all straight before him, notwithstanding his being a very drowsy hand at it, he begins to theorise, and this was the case now. Some said it was ‘all my eye,’ and others more certainly, ‘there’ll be no fight;’ while others deep in the secret said it would be a cross. For Mr. Chersey, a knowing one who had formerly backed Pearce very heavily, had turned round and backed Gully, ‘and by this no one could tell the enormous money he could win.’ So the sages and chiefs went to council, and first they decided that ‘_all bets_ should be void.’ But during this awful crisis news arrived that the Surrey magistrates (_dii minores_) had interfered, that officers with warrants were abroad, and that _that_ county was no land for them. Blackwater, beyond Bagshot, was named, and off started the whole cavalcade. Dutch Sam was mounted in a stylish buggy, but by some accident the reins broke, the driver jumped out, and left the Jew with a fast clutch of one rein. Away went the horse, Mishter Shamuels vociferating to all the heroes of the Pentateuch to save him. He was, however, soon unshipped, and so severely bruised as to be unable to fight, and so his match was lost. Blackwater was reached, but the day was advanced, and disputes went on. Mr. Fletcher Reid declared that if bets did not stand there should be no fight. Mr. Mellish and the Hon. Berkeley Craven, offered to back the Chicken to any amount, say 600 guineas to 500. The amateurs having covered thirty-two miles from London, raised a purse, and for this Tom Cribb (afterwards the renowned champion of England), entered the lists with George Nicholls, of Bristol, and was thrashed, for the first and last time.” See NICHOLLS, in Appendix to Period IV. Tuesday, October 8th, 1805, was next named as “the great important day big with the fate” of Gully and of Pearce, and Hailsham, a small village in Sussex, between Brighton and Lewes, was pitched upon for the Campus Martius. The number of spectators was immense; the Downs being covered with equestrians and pedestrians, and the “swells” of royal and aristocratic Brighton being in unusual force. The Duke of Clarence, afterwards William IV., often referred to witnessing this fight. At ten o’clock the combatants met at the place appointed, and, after a short conference, a 24‒feet rope ring was formed on a green adjoining the village. At one o’clock the contending champions entered; Gully was seconded by Tom Jones and Dick Whale; Pearce had Clarke and Joe Ward for his attendants. THE FIGHT. Round 1.—The anxiety round the ring was intense. Gully made a desperate hit at his opponent, but fell short, and Pearce immediately knocked him down. (“Three to one on the Chicken!” cried a leading amateur.) 2.—Gully put in first blow again. The Chicken returned sharply, and Gully fell.