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Updated: June 11, 2025
On the side of Phelem-ghe-Madone, Lord Hyde had brought from Launceston a certain Kilter, who lived at Green Castle, and could throw a stone weighing twenty pounds to a greater height than the highest tower of the castle. These three men, Kilter, Bray, and Gromane, were Cornishmen by birth, and did honour to their county.
On the whole, the two champions were really well matched; and, notwithstanding the unfavourable weather, it was seen that the fight would be a success. The great giant, Phelem-ghe-Madone, had to bear the inconveniences of his advantages; he moved heavily. His arms were massive as clubs; but his chest was a mass.
They laid sixteen and a quarter to one on Helmsgail. Harry Carleton cried out, "It is all over with Phelem-ghe-Madone. I will lay my peerage of Bella-aqua, and my title of Lord Bellew, against the Archbishop of Canterbury's old wig, on Helmsgail." "Give me your muzzle," said Kilter to Phelem-ghe-Madone. And stuffing the bloody flannel into the bottle, he washed him all over with gin.
Such were the vulgar pleasures of the people. They sufficed them. The people had not the means of going to the noble matches of the gentry, and could not, like lords and gentlemen, bet a thousand guineas on Helmsgail against Phelem-ghe-madone. Man has a notion of revenging himself on that which pleases him. Hence the contempt felt for the comedian.
But the two umpires and the two seconds adhered to the rule. Yet it was exceedingly cold. First blood was claimed. They were again set face to face. They looked at each other, approached, stretched their arms, touched each other's fists, and then drew back. All at once, Helmsgail, the little man, sprang forward. The real fight had begun. Phelem-ghe-Madone was struck in the face, between the Ryes.
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