London for a
purse of 100 guineas, on Monday, the 17th of July, in a field within
twenty miles of the city.

A few days after this announcement, George Borrow was charged by his
principals to convey a sum of money to a country gentleman by the name of
John Berney Petre, Esq., J.P., residing at Westwick House, some thirteen
and a half miles distant on the North Walsham road. The gentleman was
just settling the transfer of his inheritance, his father having died
eight months before. Borrow walked the entire distance, and while he
tarried with the magistrate, the interview took place between him and
Thurtell who desired to secure a field for the fight. Mr. Petre could
not accommodate them, and they drove on to North Walsham. There they
found the "pightle" which suited them in the vicinity of that town, on
the road leading to Happisburgh (Hazebro).

Norwich began to fill on Saturday, the 15th of July, as the stage-coaches
rolled in by the London (now Ipswich) and Newmarket roads. The Inn
attached to the Bowling Green on Chapel-Field, then kept by the famous
one-legged ex-coachman Dan Gurney (p. 167), was the favourite resort of
the "great men" of the day. Belcher, not old Belcher of 1791, but the
"Teucer" Belcher, and Cribb, the champion of England, slept at the Castle
Tavern, which like Janus had two faces--backed on the Meadows and fronted
on White-Lion. The Norfolk in St. Giles and the Angel on the "Walk,"
housed other varieties of the sporting world.

At an early hour on Monday, the 17th, the roads were alive with
pedestrians, equestrians, Jews, Gentiles and Gypsies, in coaches,
barouches and vehicles of every sort. From Norwich they streamed down
Tombland into Magdalen street and road, out on the Coltishall highway,
and thence--sixteen and one half miles in all--to North Walsham and the
field. One ancient MacGowan (the Scotch for Petulengro) stood on
Coltishall bridge and counted 2050 carriages as they swept past. More
than 25,000 men and thieves gathered in concentric circles about the
stand.

I do not propose to attempt the description of this celebrated _pugna_ or
"battle with the fists". Those who crave such diversions will find this
one portrayed fittingly in the newspapers of the time. The closing
passage of one of them has always seemed to me to be a masterpiece of
grim brutality: "Oliver's nob was exchequered, and he fell by heavy right-
handed blows on his ears and temple. When on his second's