JOHN GULLY. 73 



are attracted by the success of men who have risen from the humblest 

 circumstances to positions of affluence and honour. John Gully was 

 bom at Bristol, that "Nursery of British Boxers," from which came 

 the mighty Cribb, the two accomplished Belchers, the chivalrous 

 Henry Pearce ("The Game Chicken"), and many another famous 

 hero of the Prize Ring — men who earned respect as well as admiration 

 by their courage, hardihood, and honesty — a grand race of athletes, 

 immeasurably superior to the gladiators of Rome or the bull-fighters 

 of Spain. We speak of the English pvigilism of the first portion of 

 this century, before the gold of Jews and blacklegs had corrupted 

 its honour; when men of chivalry and character, like William 

 Windham and Harvey Coombe and Lord Althorp, were not ashamed 

 to patronise it; and men of genius, like Byi'on, Tom Moore, and 

 Hazlitt thought it no degradation to sing its praises and fraternise 

 with its heroes. Among this fine old race of bruisers John Gully 

 held a high and honom-able place, though not the highest. His 

 introduction to the " roped arena " came about in a very singular 

 manner. At the age of two or three-and-twenty he left Bristol and 

 came up to London. That he did not reach the metropolis in that 

 penniless condition which is usually supposed to lead to the Lord 

 Mayoralty of London is pretty evident from the fact that he had 

 not been very long in Town before he was locked up in the Fleet 

 for debt. From what we know of his subsequent career, we may 

 be pretty sure that he was not one of the usual inhabitants of that 

 strange hostelry. The cleaned-out gambler, the dissipated spendthrift, 

 the debauchee, the extravagant, dishonest fashionable tradesman, the 

 pretended merchant, the pettifogging lawyer, the fraudulent bank- 

 i^upt, the bold smuggler, the broken-down captain, the rogue, the 

 fool, the schemer, the swindler, the hypocrite, the well-meaning but 

 unfortunate gentleman, to none of these, we imagine, did John 

 Gully belong-, though how or why he found his way among them 

 history tells not. How long he might have languished there it is 

 impossible to say, but doubtless very long, had it not happened 

 that the kindly-hearted pugilist, Henry Pearce, heard that a fellow- 

 townsman was in trouble, and resolved to visit and assist him to the 

 utmost of his power. This Pearce was a noble fellow, and we well 

 remember how the late George Borrow's face used to light up and 

 his eyes flash as he told the stories of Pearce's gallantry and 

 chivalry. How, singlehanded, he rescued a helpless woman from the 

 hands of six brutal ruffians, and how he lost his life, like another 

 famous boxer, Isaac Perrins, through his exertions in carrying women 

 and children in his Herculean arms from a building in flames. 

 Pearce found Gully to be a man just after his own heart — brave, 

 courteous, sturdy, intelligent, and racked his brains to hit upon some 

 device to extricate him from his incarceration. At last a brilliant 

 idea struck " The Game Chicken." He brought a set of boxing 

 gloves with him and got young Gully to try a bout with him. Th(! 

 latter proved himself such an adept that Pearce at once suggested 



