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little village of Dansden, at the time of wliich we are writing, there had 

 been settled for several generations a family named Flowers, of tlie small 

 yeoman class, which hud produced a race of singularly athletic and stalwart 

 men. Personal strength, high courage, and a fine, hearty, old English love 

 of fair fighting were hereditary qualities in the house of Flowers, and had 

 been handed down without a break through all the males of the stock. 

 There was no record of a Flowers who had not been an enthusiastic lover of 

 fighting— whether with cudgel or fist— and the family had largely con- 

 tributed towards upholding the honour and glory of Wiltshire in the annual 

 matches at stickplay against the men of Berks, Somersetshire, and Glouces- 

 tershire. 



A tine old English sport, by the way, that same stickplay, or backsword- 

 ing, was, and one we should dearly like to see revived. I^et whoso doubts 

 our word read the graphic description of a bout at stickplay, as one of the 

 features of the good, old-fashioned "Veast," given in that manliest and 

 healthiest of all boys' books, "Tom Brown's Schooldays." 



The head of the family at this time was Harry Flowers, the blacksmith, 

 who, we should imagine, realised the picture which Longfellow has given — 



*• The smith, a mighty man is he, 

 With large and sinewy hands ; 

 And the muscles of his brawny arms 

 Are strong as iron bands. " 



He had two sons, Harry and Bob, both of whom were famous fighters in 

 their time; but it is with the former that we are now concerned. Though 

 originally brought up to his fatlier's trade, young Harry, who was from his 

 boyhood fond of horses, eventually found more congenial employment at the 

 stables of Major Wheble, of Tockenham Park, close by, who was also the 

 owner of Bulmershe Court, near Beading. Now, the Major was a fine 

 specimen of the good old English country gentleman. He loved sport of all 

 kinds — hunting, racing, shooting, cocking, bruising, and was an enthusiast 

 at all of them. At the cockpit, on the racecourse, by the ring side, there 

 was no more familiar figure than that of the burly, jolly-faced squire of 

 Tockenham. The Major had known the whole family of Flowers from his 

 boyhood, and had heard countless tales of their prowess. He took a par- 

 ticular fancy to young Harry, who was in due course promoted to the higher 

 post of coachman, but this by no means precluded the young man from 

 indulging his fighting propensities. On the contrary, the Major encouraged 

 his coachman to keep up the prestige of the house of Flowers, and constantly 

 backed him to tight. Up to the year 1809, young Flowers had never known 

 defeat. He had thrashed Black Jem, the famous gipsy fighter ; Sweet, the 

 Somersetshire champion ; and half-a-dozen other men of lesser note. On the 

 20th of January, 1809, Flowers fought a big sawyer named Rossett, whom 

 Mr. Charles Dalbiac, of Hungerford Park, had backed for a hundred guineas 

 against him. Rossett's patron made sure that the Berkshire man would 

 win, and wagered heavily on him, but Flowers hit his foe all to pieces in 

 ten minutes, and the unfortunate sawyer was carried away senseless from 

 the field of battle. After this signal proof of the coachman's prowess it was 

 not easy to get anyone to stand up before him, and young Harry's next 



