Lord Barrymore’s fondness for eccentricities ever engaged his mind. Whether in London or at Wargrave, ’twas all the same, always in high spirits, thinking of what fun he should have during the day. I shall begin with London. Seated after dinner, at eleven o’clock, on one of the hottest evenings in July, he proposed that the whole party should go to Vauxhall. The carriage being ordered, it was directly filled inside, and the others outside, with more wine than wit, made no little noise through the streets. We had not been long at Vauxhall, when Lord Barrymore called out to a young clergyman, some little distance from us, who, when he approached and was asked, “Have you had any supper?” to our surprise he answered, “Vy, as how, my Lord, I have not as yet had none.” A waiter passing by at the time, Lord Barrymore said, “You know me; let that gentleman have whatever he calls for:” when he told the parson to fall to, and call for as much arrack punch as he pleased. “Thank ye, my Lord,” said he, “for I begins to be hungry, and I don’t care how soon I pecks a bit.”

Lord Barrymore had that morning, unknown to us, contrived to dress Tom Hooper, the tinman (one of the first pugilists at that time), as a clergyman, to be in waiting at Vauxhall, in case we should get into any dispute. This fistic knight now filled the place of a lacquey, and was constantly behind the carriage, a sworn votary of black eyes and disfigured faces. His black clothes, formal hat, hair powdered and curled round, so far disguised him, that he was unknown to us all at first, though Hooper’s queer dialect must soon have discovered him to the waiters. This was a ruse de guerre of Lord Barrymore’s. About three o’clock, whilst at supper, Lord Falkland, Henry Barry, Sir Francis Molineux, &c. were of our party; there was at this time a continual noise and rioting, and the arrack punch was beginning to operate.

On a sudden all were seen running towards the orchestra, the whole garden seemed to be in confusion, and our party, all impatience, sallied out, those at the further end of the box walking over the table, kicking down the dishes. It seems that the effects of the punch had not only got into Hooper’s head, but had exerted an influence over his fists, for he was for fighting with every body. A large ring was made, and advancing in a boxing attitude, he threatened to fight any one; but all retired before him. Felix M’Carthy, a tall, handsome Irishman, well known by every body at that time, soon forced his way through the crowd and collared him, at the same time saying, “You rascal, you are Hooper the boxer: if you do not leave the garden this instant, I’ll kick you out.” The affrighted crowd, who before retreated as he approached them, now came forward, when Hooper finding himself surrounded, and hearing a general cry “kick him out,” made his retreat as fast as possible, thus avoiding the fury of those who would not have spared him out of the gardens, if he had been caught. We found him at five in the morning behind Lord Barrymore’s carriage, with the coachman’s great coat on, congratulating himself upon having avoided the vengeance of those to whom, a short time previously, he had been an object of fear.

At Wargrave Lord Barrymore’s caprices and humours had no bounds; being grand monarch there, and in a village, his frolics far exceeded his London vagaries. In inventing and planning eccentricities none could keep pace with him. The day being very hot, whilst sitting in the garden, under a tree, without our coats, he proposed that all should strip, and, when en chemise, that we should walk up and down the village. I could mention many other singular freaks. At the time of Johnson’s battle with Perrins, Lord Barrymore having laid a considerable sum on the former, and being at the time confined to his bed, deputed me and another of the visitors to be present at the fight, and on the issue, to return directly. At night, we posted with four horses from his house, and got to Oxford about five in the morning. At the Star inn every room was crowded,and many persons besides ourselves went into the kitchen, and were forced to scramble for their breakfasts. Finding it impossible to procure the least conveyance, not even a donkey, which I should not have hesitated to mount, we both set out on foot, anxious as we were at the time to execute our commission, and hasten back with good news. The fight was to commence at one o’clock, and it was then only six, and the distance from Banbury, the seat of action, was seventeen miles.

After walking ten miles, we met with a return post-chaise, the driver of which turned his horses back, f argent fait tout, and set us down there, much to our relief, as we had travelled all night, long before the time the fight was to take place. The spot appointed was in an inclosure, half a guinea admission each person. I was six deep (as they call it) from the stage, which was between five and six feet from the ground; and as those who stood before me were taller than myself, my view was very much impeded. A countryman next to the stage, however, gave me up his place for a crown, and I then saw the fight to advantage. Here my chin rested on the floor, and I could see every blow. Perrins was a whitesmith, at Birmingham, much above six feet, and from his appearance when stripped, a most powerful antagonist. I have been told since, that his strength sofar exceeded all the other workmen, that he used a hammer double the weight of that of any other person, so that one stroke counted for two. Johnson, I should think, was not five feet eleven. The day was bright, the sun occasionally shining; Johnson kept manoeuvring, by going round, to place his antagonist facing it, seldom venturing to attempt to make a home blow, and whenever Perrins made one at him, he first drawing his arm back at the time, discovered his intention, when Johnson, whose quick eye was waiting for it, at the moment the blow was preparing, cautiously took care to fall down. Perrins, with his exertion, missing his antagonist, often fell upon him. This continued for near an hour, much to the discomfiture of the Birmingham people, who had ventured considerable sums on their townsman, and saw that Perrins had now nearly exhausted his strength. Up to this time I do not recollect that Johnson had ventured to give him one decided blow, though successful in his stratagem to reduce Perrin’s prowess. To use a pugilistic term, Johnson soon became an awkward customer, and furiously attacked his antagonist, right and left. I was close to Perrins when he had his last fall; his head lay on the boards just as the sun was shining very bright, and the blood running from the nostrils, added to his bulky figure, rendered him a terrific object before he gave in. During the fight, Johnson, by his continual tumbling and shifting, never received more than half a blow (a home one might have killed him); one had grazed his forehead; and while seated on the knee of Ward, his second, he put his hand up to it to see if there was any blood. A general hooting and hissing ensued, his curiosity, which seemed indicative of cowardice, diminished the previous good opinion every one had of his bravery in opposing such a powerful man. Many persons called out “white feather,” “want of pluck,” &c. Colonel Tarlton was very conspicuous there on the stage, and so was Colonel Hanger. The Birmingham people must have lost considerable sums, and had there been no tumbling without a blow, the battle would have been settled in a few minutes, Perrins’ strength being so very superior. When the result was known, I hastened back to his lordship, who was so pleased with the intelligence, that it seemed actually to have made him quite well.

Quoted from: Henry Charles William Angelo: Reminiscences. (1830)