So Boy Jim went down to the George, at Crawley, under the charge of Jim Belcher and Champion Harrison, to train for his great fight with Crab¹ Wilson, of Gloucester, whilst every club and bar parlour of London rang with the account of how he had appeared at a supper of Corinthians, and beaten the formidable Joe Berks in four rounds.  I remembered that afternoon at Friar’s Oak when Jim had told me that he would make his name known, and his words had come true sooner than he could have expected it, for, go where one might, one heard of nothing but the match between Sir Lothian Hume and Sir Charles Tregellis, and the points of the two probable combatants.  The betting was still steadily² in favour of Wilson, for he had a number of bye-battles to set against this single victory of Jim’s, and it was thought by connoisseurs³ who had seen him spar that the singular defensive⁴ tactics which had given him his nickname would prove very puzzling to a raw antagonist⁵.  In height, strength, and reputation for gameness there was very little to choose between them, but Wilson had been the more severely⁶ tested.

 

It was but a few days before the battle that my father made his promised visit to London.  The seaman⁸ had no love of cities, and was happier wandering over the Downs, and turning his glass upon every topsail which showed above the horizon, than when finding his way among crowded streets, where, as he complained, it was impossible to keep a course by the sun, and hard enough by dead reckoning.  Rumours⁹ of war were in the air, however, and it was necessary that he should use his influence with Lord Nelson if a vacancy¹⁰ were to be found either for himself or for me.

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