THE FIGHT.Round 1.—On assuming the perpendicular it was evident that Jones was the taller and more symmetrical man. He was, despite rumour, in excellent condition. There was a pleasing smile of confidence and an ease in his attitude that favourably impressed the spectators; in short, he looked a model of a 12 stone man. Tom, the rough-and-ready, seemed rather lighter than usual—he was declared to be no more than 11st.9lbs.—but he still looked rounder, stronger, and tougher than his fairer skinned opponent. Paddock lost no time in sparring but went straight in, catching Jones on the forehead, but getting a smack in return on the proboscis from Jones, who said, smilingly, “You had it there!” Paddock replied by making another dash, and landing on Aaron’s cheek, who retorted on the side of Tom’s head. Some rather wild exchanges followed, left andright, in which each displayed more haste than judgment; they then broke away. Paddock twice made his left on Jones’s cheek, leaving marks of his handiwork; on trying a third time, Jones countered him sharply on the nose, then closed, and both rolled over, Paddock undermost.2.—Paddock let go his left and reached Jones’s ear, another attempt was too high, and a third was cleverly stopped. Paddock bored in, when Jones met him with a sounding spank on the left eye that made Tom “see fireworks.” Paddock forced the fighting, but after a rally, in which no harm was done, Jones gripped Paddock and threw him in good style, falling on him. (Applause from the “Rising Sun.”)3.—Jones came up all smiles, but Paddock did not give him a chance of leading off, for he rattled in left and right, but was cleverly stopped. Tom afterwards succeeded in landing on Aaron’s ribs, but sent his left over Jones’s shoulder. He then bored in, but Jones jumped back quickly, caught Paddock in his arms, and again threw him neatly, Jones being evidently the better wrestler.4.—Paddock made his left hand and then his right, the latter heavily, on Aaron’s left optic. A ding-dong rally ensued, in which Jones drew “first blood” from Tom’s smelling organ. The men closed, and some severe fighting took place at close quarters, Jones getting it on the forehead and ear, Paddock on the ribs. Both down.5.—Jones’s left peeper in mourning from Paddock’s one, two, in the previous round. Paddock grinned derisively, and at once went to work, but was stopped cleverly. Jones returned with both hands, dropping on to Tom’s nose and left cheek. Paddock looked vexed, and went in with both hands, when Jones was down first.6.—Paddock led off, but Jones countered him heavily on the nose. Paddock reciprocated with a heavy left-hander, also on the nasal prominence, and after some exchanges both were down.7.—Paddock led off short, and Jones missed his left, but soon afterwards got on his right on the side of Tom’s head, inflicting a deep cut that bled freely. Jones closed, and after a brief struggle threw Paddock a burster.8.—Jones led off, nailed Tom sharply on the left eyebrow with the right, closed at the ropes, and hung on Paddock till he got down.9.—Paddock looked unutterable things at finding Jones was not the easy customer he had expected. He rushed in, hit-or-miss, banged in his left at Aaron’s head, who retaliated straight and swift on the cheek and side of the brain-pan; this led to a rally in favour of Jones, who threw Paddock, and walked to his corner laughing.10.—Paddock began hastily, but was stopped. Jones closed and again threw him, falling on him.11.—Paddock let fly his left, but was short. Jones kept him at arm’s length. Paddock got closer, but his hits were stopped. Jones then got home on Tom’s left eye, making a cut and drawing the crimson fluid. Some tremendous exchanges followed, Jones sticking to his work in a style that electrified those who doubted his pluck, and in the end Jones gained the second event by knocking Paddock off his legs by a right-hander which cut open his left eyebrow. (“First knock-down” for Jones.) The layers of 3 to 1, for some had ventured those odds, looked blue, and there was some anxiety to “hedge;” even money would have been taken, but there were no layers.12.—Jones’s left optic all but closed. He went in wildly, and Paddock slipped down.13.—Jones let go his left, which went over Tom’s shoulder; with his right he was more successful, and reached Tom’s left eye a sharp crack. Paddock was out of distance with his return, and Jones again slipped down.14.—Paddock led off, but was prettily stopped, left and right. Jones returned on the left temple, closed, and again threw Paddock heavily, falling on him.15.—On getting together, good exchanges took place, Paddock reaching Aaron’s snuffbox smartly, but Jones giving him a rattler on the domino-box in return. Jones, in the rally which followed, struck Paddock on the top of the head, to the damage of his own dexter fin, and then slipped down.16.—Jones dashed in fearlessly, got home a heavy one on Tom’s left ear, who went down on his right hand with a sort of half-consenting stagger, and so finished the round.17.—Jones, still forcing the fighting, dashed out left and right, and Tom, in stopping and getting away, fell by catching his heel against the centre stake.18.—Paddock now tried for a lead; he opened the ball by dropping his left on Aaron’s cheek-bone, and got it on the side of the head—tit-for-tat. Some tremendous exchanges followed, when Jones closed, shot his left arm round Paddock’s neck, threw him a clean back-fall, and fell on him. (We learned, subsequently, that in this round Jones so severely injured his left shoulder that he was incapacitated from its free use for several succeeding rounds; he also complained that Jerry Noon, by his careless way of lifting him, increased the mischief by an additional twist.)19.—Jones went in and pegged away, but his left-hand hits seemed ineffective; Tom hit out wildly, but at last fell with his own consent.20–24.—Jones planted on Paddock’s frontispiece cleverly; but there was no steam in the hits. In the last-named round Paddock slipped down, but instantly jumped up to renew the round; Jones, who was in the arms of his seconds, released himself, and at it they went. After some wild exchanges,the men embraced, swung round, and both fell.25.—Paddock got home his left bunch of fives on Aaron’s sadly damaged optic. Jones returned on the side of the head, and in going down narrowly escaped a swinging blow from Paddock’s right.26.—Jones dashed in on the snout, whence spouted a crimson jet, then closed, and, after a short struggle, both fell, Paddock under.27.—Jones again rattled in, but his left-hand blows seemed mere pushes, his following hits with the right being sharp and heavy. After mutual exchanges, Jones again gripped Paddock and threw him, falling over him. As they lay on the ground Paddock patted Jones on the shoulder, in a patronising way, as if saying, “Well done, my lad!”28.—Jones broke ground by letting go both hands, but they were mere fly-flaps. In trying to get nearer he missed his left, over-reached himself, and fell.29.—Paddock, tired of the defensive, dashed in; they quickly got to work, and after a merry rally, in which there were several mutual misses, both were down, Paddock undermost.30–34.—Good sharp rounds, with equal success; Paddock getting twice or three times on to Jones’s good eye—the right—which looked in danger of following suit like its sinister brother. In the last round Paddock again thrown.35.—Paddock, anxious for a turn, went in resolutely; Jones met him with the right, and propped him severely, his left, though he made use of it in stopping, doing no damage to his opponent. In the exchanges Paddock slipped down.36–46.—Similar in character, sharp rallies, some wild but punishing exchanges; Jones the best of the closes, but Paddock hitting hardest.47.—Jones went in and forced his man determinedly; he got his right hand heavily on Tom’s listener, but received a slashing upper-cut while attempting to close, he staggered and fell, his knees evidently failing him.48.—Paddock grinned at his opponent, and looked round at his friends, nodding his head as he put up his hands at the scratch. He popped in his left on the side of Aaron’s head, who fell, Paddock just missing a right-hander as Jones went to earth.49–52.—Jones’s fighting ineffective, and Paddock slowly improving his position.53.—Paddock again visited the old spot on Jones’s left cheek, and Jones was again down. It was evident the steam was out of Jones’s deliveries, though he yet preserved his form of stopping and hitting. In fact, his left was no longer his best weapon. From this to the 70th round comparatively little mischief was done, through exhaustion from continued exertion, falls, and repeated blows. Paddock, whose hands were swollen by repeated visitations to Jones’s forehead and brain-pan, did but little execution, while Jones, with his sprained left shoulder and weakened understandings, was too tottery to go in with effect. In the 78th round Paddock sent a smasher into Jones’s remaining window, the shutter of which was fast closing. Cries of “Take him away!” to which Jones contemptuously replied, “I’m good for another hour!”79.—Paddock went in as if to finish, but Jones astonished him by stopping his left, and retaliating with such a stinger on the side of the nut, that he rolled down and over, amidst the shouts of the spectators.80.—Jones was evidently fighting against fate. Paddock, though his hands were puffed, seemed little the worse for wear in wind or strength, while Jones was weak on his pins, pumped out, had but one good arm, and was gradually losing distinct vision. Forty-one more rounds were fought, making 121; but though Jones made many gallant efforts to turn the tide, fate was against him. His backers (the principal one was absent) were willing he should give in, but the game fellow would not hear of it. He gradually became blind, and, at length, in the 121st round, he rushed wildly in the direction of Paddock, who steadily propped him on the side of the jaw with the left, then delivering his right on the body, down went poor Aaron in a heap, nature forsook him, and Paddock stood over him the victor, after a determined struggle oftwo hours and twenty-four minutes.Both men were immediately conveyed on board “Waterman No. 7,” where they received every attention. Paddock quickly recovered, though his external marks of punishment were numerous and severe; Jones, however, was not himself for a considerable period. The boat at once returned to town; but as she departed before the second fight (between Spooner and Donovan) was concluded, ourselves and many others were compelled to avail ourselves of the Gravesend Railway,viaDartford or Purfleet, which brought all in good time to their homes in the great Metropolis.Remarks.—The reader of the foregoing account will cordially agree with us that Jones in this gallant battle completely wiped out any stain of cowardice which the result of his battle with Orme might have attached to his character. His own statement to us, that he did not refuse to meet Orme a third time from any dread of punishment, but simply upon the advice of his backers and friends, was fully borne out. His perseverance, after the disablement of his left shoulder in the 18th round, and the unflinching endurance with which he faced so determined a two-handed hitter as Paddock, for ever dispose of the imputation of a white feather in Aaron’s composition. The loser certainly left no stone unturned, noresource untried, to achieve victory, and if he failed to command success he did more—he deserved it. Paddock, as usual in his later fights, fought with coolness and good-humour, taking the roughest blows and falls without a murmur. His left cheek, eye, temple, and ear were fearfully swollen, while the right side presented a curious contrast by retaining its original shape and expression. His hands were more injured than in any of his previous battles, and this will account for the protracted nature of the contest after the tide had turned against Jones. The fairness of Paddock’s fighting, even, on several occasions, to the extent of forbearance, was the admiration of all who witnessed the contest. Paddock, too, was certainly weak towards the close, owing to the burning sun under which the battle was fought. For ourselves, the mere work of sitting in a somewhat constrained position, in the full blaze of its rays, attending to our duties as referee, occasionally holding a bet, and taking the note which form the “bones” of the foregoing account, so entirely beat us that we can speak feelingly of the labours of the men who were subjected to and went through such a trying ordeal. Their endurance speaks volumes for the wonderful results attainable by training and condition. In brief, we may say in conclusion, that a better or more courageous fight has not been seen since Paddock last met the game and persevering Poulson.The battle-money (£200) was handed to Paddock on the ensuing Monday, at Alec Keene’s, “Three Tuns,” Moor Street, Soho, when a handsome collection was made as a golden salve for the wounds of the brave but unfortunate Aaron Jones.That Aaron Jones fully removed by his last two battles every trace of suspicion as to want of game is certain, but that he will ever be able to take a first-rate position as a pugilist is extremely dubious; not from want of either courage or capabilities as a punisher, but from the simple fact that his constitution is not sufficiently strong to enable him to stand for any great length of time the fatigues of a contest with a determined lasting adversary like Paddock. He is a civil, well-conducted young fellow, and a great favourite among those who know him well. His defeat has not lost him a single friend, though it has gained him many. It is just possible that his constitutional defects may be removed as he grows older, and if they are, he will prove an awkward customer to any one who may fancy him; but unless he can improve his stamina, and that very materially, we would advise him to abstain in future from milling pursuits. Paddock fought steadier and with more generalship than we had given him credit for, and, to our surprise, his hands, which in all former battles had swelled so as almost to incapacitate him from inflicting punishment, stood firm and hard to the last. His hits were delivered with much judgment, and, although he was fearfully punished, he never flinched from his task. He says it was a much tougher job than he expected, and does not disguise the fact that he was glad when it was over; he also adds, that whoever fights Jones in future will find he must put up with a good deal more punching than will do him good. Many persons found fault with Paddock for dropping on several occasions after delivering his right on Jones’s most vulnerable point, the ribs, and certainly we agree that such a practice should havebeen avoided. It must be remembered, however, that Paddock was himself seriously injured, and fast growing blind, and that he could scarcely be expected to display that coolness which under more favourable circumstances would have been expected from him. These dropping manœuvres were also in a material degree counterbalanced by his manly conduct in the eleventh round, when he refrained from punishing Jones, when the latter was in a defenceless but perfectly fair position for being hit.Our hero was allowed scant breathing-time after this tremendous encounter. At the giving up of the stakes at Mr. Jackson’s, King Street Mews, Park Lane, on the following Tuesday, the fearless Tom Sayers presented himself and proposed a battle for £200, catch-weight, but the details were postponed to a future meeting at Bill Hayes’s in the ensuing week. In the interval Tom’s friends had entered into what the politicians callpourparlerswith some friends of Harry Poulson, and this proved “a red herring” that crossed the “line,” and so the match with Tom Sayers was for the present a lost “scent.”In the papers of August 27, we read as follows:—“The gallant Tom Paddock having waited for some time for a reply to the question we put to the Tipton Slasher, as to whether he intends to maintain his claim to the Championship, and having seen no answer, declares that if Perry has retired—as he is at a loss to know which of these worthies is actual Champion—he will fight Harry Broome for £200 or £300 a side.” [We may state, for Paddock’s information, that Broome, when he forfeited some time back to the Slasher, declared his intention of retiring from the Ring, and leaving the title to the Tipton.] “Paddock adds that if neither Perry nor Broome takes up the gauntlet, he shall consider himself Champion, as prepared to meet all comers.”In the following week’s issue, the Editor announces that Johnny Broome has called on him, and left a deposit to “find a man” who will fight Paddock for £200, or any larger sum.As the day of the battle approached, the interest in the expected encounter increased, and the eighteenth deposit, carrying the stakes up to £160, being duly posted at Alec Keene’s, “Three Tuns,” Moor Street, Soho, all seemed going fairly. On the following Tuesday, however, an alarming intelligence reached Air Street, that Harry had been apprehended at his training quarters at Patcham, and taken before the Brighton magistrates, by whom he had been bound over to keep the peace for three months, thus putting an end to hostilities for that period at least. Weshall not here encumber our pages by any detail of the angry “’fending and proving” which followed this very mysterious arrest, of which each sought to cast the blame on his opponent’s party. On this occasion the Editor ofBell’s Life, who was the stakeholder, declared it to be his duty, from documents laid before him, to hand over to Paddock the £180 deposited, which was done on the 20th of February, 1855. Hereupon Broome deposited £10 for a fresh match, to come off on May 7th, after the expiry of Harry’s recognisances, which Paddock covered, and once again received forfeit from his wrangling opponent on the 12th of March. Hereupon the “highest authority” declared, “in answer to numerous correspondents,” that “Tom Paddock is now Champion of England, until the position is wrested from him by the Tipton Slasher or Aaron Jones, or confirmed to him by their defeat.” And here we may note that “old K-legs” was still “pegging away on the same line;” but the ruddy hero of Redditch fancied Aaron Jones to be an easier job, so he postponed his old friend’s invitation, and joined issue with Jones by signing articles on April 3rd, at Bill Hayes’s, the “Crown,” in Cranbourne Passage, to fight on the 26th of June, 1855, for £100 a side, within 70 and over 50 miles from London. As we were present on the previous Thursday, at Dan Dismore’s, and ourselves registered the “ring-constables” for preservation of order on the occasion, it may be interesting to print our note. Those who gave in their names were: Nat Langham, Edward Hoiles (the Spider), Tom Sayers, Jack Grant, Jemmy Welsh, Young Sambo (Welsh), Jemmy Massey, Billy Duncan, Charley Mallett, John Hicks, Alf. Walker, Tom Adams, and Ned More; Ned Adams, Inspector. All these were provided with armlets and a number, and were empowered to prevent any person intruding within the outer roped circle, unless provided with an inner-ring ticket, purchased of them individually or of the appointed distributors. Each of these constables was compensated by an “honorarium” in proportion to the receipts for “privilege” tickets, which was subject to deduction or fines for proved remissness or breach of duty. These arrangements fell into confusion and almost into oblivion when the master-hand which framed them retired from the conduct of the affairs of the Ring, of which he had been, through good report or evil report, through sunshine as through storm, “the guide, philosopher, and friend”—nay, more, the disinterested and zealous champion and advocate. We allude to Vincent Dowling,Esq., who for more than thirty years editedBell’s Life in London, and to whom the hand which writesthese lines is proud to own that that teacher was the Gamaliel at whose feet he sat to learn the now forgotten and self-degraded principles of honour, courage, forbearance, and fair play embodied in and inculcated by the Art of Self-Defence. On this occasion the law survived the law-giver, and the most perfect order was maintained. On the former occasion Jones’s friends declared that their man lost the use of his left hand from an injury to his collar-bone in the tenth round, and moreover, that he was suffering from a disablement brought on by undue exertion, for which the application of leeches had been considered necessary only a day or two before the fight. If, they argued, Jones could under these drawbacks, prolong the fight for two hours and twenty-four minutes, to the 121st round, the chances were now in his favour. Besides, Jones, on a recent occasion (at Jem Ward’s benefit) had so unmistakably “bested” Master Tom, flooring him in masterly style, that his friends were “legion” for this second trial. For some time after the signature of articles both men remained in town, but at length Aaron betook himself to Shrewsbury, where he remained until a fortnight before the fight, when he came up to London, and took up his quarters at Sutton, in Surrey, under the surveillance of Bob Fuller, who, “it goes without saying,” did all that could be done to bring him “fit to the post.” Paddock went to the neighbourhood of Leatherhead, where, by strong exercise on the breezy downs, he did all that could be done to bring his “pipes” and muscle into the primest order. We saw him both at the Epsom and Ascot meetings, to each of which he came on “Shanks’s mare” and certainly looked in “wind and limb,” eye, skin, and general complexion, up to anything. On the Monday previous both men showed at the Rotunda, Blackfriars Road, at the gathering for the benefit of the Pugilistic Benevolent Association, and of course received the congratulations of the crowd.The “special” was chartered on this occasion by Dan Dismore, Hayes, Mr. Jackson, and Paddock’s backer. On our arrival at the terminus we met an immense assemblage of curious folks, who unable to be present at the fight were anxious to get a peep at the men. On the platform was a goodly concourse, noblemen and soldiers, Corinthians and clergy (at any rate, we noticed the “Bishop of Bond Street,” carefully superintending the safe deposit of sundry Fortnum-and-Mason-looking baskets and hampers in the guard’s van), sporting pubs, country-cousins, pugilists, and many well-breeched plebeians. At a few minutes past eight o’clock, both men with their immediate attendants were comfortably seated, and at half-pasteight the whistle sounded and away we steamed. The well-known stations on the Eastern Counties were quickly passed, and, with the exception of one stoppage for a “drink” for the iron horse, we had covered nearly eighty miles from Shoreditch before we put on the brakes, and pulled up near Mildenhall, in the county of Suffolk. Here an excellent piece of ground had been selected, and a first-rate inner-and-outer-ring were quickly marked out by Tom Oliver, Tom Callas, and assistants. A brisk trade in tickets for the outer enclosure showed a receipt of £33 10s., a very fair contribution to the funds of the P.B.A. The heat, as the men stripped for the encounter, was intense, and by an amicable agreement the usual toss for corners was dispensed with, and the men “placed across the sun;” thus neither had the disadvantage of advancing to the scratch with the rays of that dazzling luminary in his face. At half-past twelve o’clock, the number of spectators numbering a little over a thousand, Jones threw in his cap, attended by Bob Fuller and Bill Hayes, the latter, who was in ill-health, resigning his position soon afterwards to Jerry Noon. Paddock soon followed, Alec Keene and Jemmy Massey acting as his assistants. Paddock, after shaking hands, offered £25 in crisp bank notes to Aaron, on condition of a deposit of £20 on the part of the latter, but Jones declined the wager. The odds round the ring were now at this figure—5 to 4 on Paddock. Jemmy Massey, however, offering “3 to 2, rather than not get on,” had his £15 taken against £10, and the market-price went back again.As the men stood up Paddock looked red, hard, and, contrary to former exhibitions, sinewy and comparatively lean, with a look of wear and tear about him that spoke well for his attention to training. Jones was fine, symmetrical, and a model for a statuary; but though he smiled and looked healthy and confident, we could not bring ourselves to think he could last out a day’s work with the Redditch man. At six minutes to one the seconds retired and business began.THE FIGHT.Round 1.—Paddock was evidently not disposed to make a waiting race; he approached his man with an ominous smile, and at once launched forth his left, which was prettily stopped. He tried it a second time, but Jones was away. Tom would not be denied, but dashed resolutely in, and caught Jones heavily on the mouth with his left. Jones turned half round and went down, bleeding from the lips. (First bloodfor Paddock. First knock-down blow was also claimed, but not allowed by the referee, who considered that Jones was a consenting party to his own downfall.)2.—Paddock again tried his left, catching Aaron a second time on the mouth. This led to some heavy exchanges, in which Paddock got it on the left cheek heavily, and Jones in the mouth. Paddock in the end slipped down.3.—The men at once got within distance, and heavy counter-hits left and right were exchanged, Jones with the latter hand catching Tom another spank on the leftcheek, and receiving on the left peeper and ribs. A close followed, in which both were down, Jones under.4.—Paddock came up smiling, when Jones let go his left heavily on Paddock’s larboard optic, and his right on his nose—a very heavy hit, which produced a good supply of red currant juice, and both fell.5.—Paddock dashed in, but was met with another smasher on the snout. He retaliated on Aaron’s left eye, inflicting a cut on the brow, and drawing a fresh tap. He made his left again on Aaron’s cheek, which led to heavy exchanges, left and right, both getting it on the left side of the nut, and Paddock at the close fell on his south pole.6.—Jones came up with his left peeper in mourning; Paddock’s sinister visual organ had on a similar suit. Paddock determinedly rattled in and tickled Aaron on the left side of his occiput. He tried a second dose, but napped an ugly right-hander on the left eyebrow, which was cut, and the ruby at once responded to the call. Heavy exchanges without an attempt to stop followed, and both were down, Paddock under.7.—Both showed serious marks of punishment, but neither said “nay.” Some heavy rambling exchanges took place, and Jones slipped down.8.—No ceremony on either side, but ding-dong was the order of the day. The exchanges were in favour of Paddock, who paid some heavy to visitations Aaron’s left peeper. In the close both were down.9.—Jones attempted to lead off, but Paddock got cleverly away; Jones followed him up, and some tremendous exchanges took place, Jones in the end knocking Paddock off his legs by a tremendous crack from his right on the jaw. (First knock-down blow for Jones.)10.—Paddock looked serious—he was evidently shaken by the hit in the last round. Jones, however, instead of going to work, waited for him. Paddock quickly recovered, and just touched Aaron on the proboscis; this brought on a rally, in which little mischief was done, and Jones got down.11.—Paddock took the lead, planted a left-hander on Jones’s left daylight; Jones retaliated by a right-hander on the same spot, and then a second edition of the same, and in getting back fell on the ropes; he was not down, and Paddock might with fairness have struck him, but, with a manly feeling, for which he is entitled to much credit, walked to his own corner amidst cheers from both sides.12.—This was a tremendous fighting round. It commenced with some heavy exchanges left and right, Paddock reaching Aaron’s left eye, and the latter pounding Tom on the smeller. A break away, followed by some severe counter-hits in favour of Jones, who again drew Tom’s cork, brought them to a close, in which both were down. Paddock distilling the ruby from his nose and left eye, and Jones from the nozzle. (The facetious Jerry Noon remarked that it was “Chelsea Hospital to a sentry-box” on Jones.)13.—Jones led off, caught Tom another nasty one on the side of his knowledge-box, and Tom, astonished at its suddenness, dropped.14.—Paddock tried his left, which was neatly stopped. Again did he make the attempt with a like result, but Jones with quickness planted his right on the damaged left eye with effect, and Paddock fell, Jones on him.15.—Tom came up with his left shutter nearly closed, and the cheek on the same side as big as a pumpkin. He attempted to lead off, but was again well stopped. He would persevere, and got home on Jones’s left ogle. Jones countered heavily on the same point, and Paddock again got down, Jones on him.16.—Jones rushed at his man, who in retreating fell.17.—Paddock led off, but missed. Tremendous counter-hits followed, Paddock getting it on the side of his nut from Jones’s right, and Jones being knocked off his legs by a heavy visitation on his left cheek, which inflicted a severe cut and spilled more of the vital fluid.18.—Paddock again missed a well-intended left hander, and, after a few scrambling exchanges, Jones fell weak. He had evidently not recovered the terrific hit in the last round.19.—Paddock let go his left, which caught Jones on the damaged chop, but not heavily. Jones returned on the left eye, and Paddock dropped laughing.20.—Paddock went to his man, who let go his left on the side of his head, and Paddock fell. He jumped up to renew the round, when Jones at once went to work, pegged away left and right, drawing some more claret from the left eye. Paddock returned on the left cheek, but in the end was knocked through the ropes, Jones falling weak from his own exertions.21.—Paddock’s lead was again stopped, and Jones again propped him on the left cheek. Paddock dropped, and once more jumped up to renew the round, but Jones’s seconds forced him away to his owner.22.—Jones, slightly recovered from his weakness, went to work, and some tremendous counter-hits were exchanged, Paddock on the left eye, and Jones on the smelling bottle. Paddock now shoved in his right heavily on Jones’s ribs, and dropped, amidst cries of “Foul.” No appeal, however, was made, and the affair passed off.23.—Paddock came up with his left ocular completely closed, the opposite cheek being swollen as if from sympathy. Jones’s left eye was also barely open. Paddock wentresolutely to work with both hands, Jones retaliating, and in the end Jones fell.24.—Paddock took the lead by another essay upon Jones’s head, which staggered him. Paddock at once closed, threw, and fell on him.25.—Slight changes to a close, in which a little mutual fibbing took place. In the end both down, Paddock under, but still much the fresher man.26.—Jones attempted to open the pleadings, but Paddock stepped back, jobbing him on the snuffbox as he came in. Slogging exchanges now took place, in favour of Jones, who caught Paddock a tremendous right hander behind the left ear, which cut that organ severely, and opened a new crimson conduit. The men closed and fell together, Jones under.27.—Paddock, although bleeding from the left ear and eye, came up merrily, and led off with the left on Aaron’s os frontis. Jones returned with a heavy right hander on Tom’s darkened peeper, and again knocked him off his pins.28.—Paddock, who was very slow to the call of time, came up weak. Jones led off, with his right on the nose, but had not devil enough to let it go with a will. Paddock retreated until he had shaken off the effects of the knock-down in the last round, and then caught Jones heavily on the body. Jones returned on the mouth with effect, the blow turning Paddock half round. Paddock at once walked to his corner and sat down—an example followed by Jones. This hit was very severe, and many persons thought Paddock would not come many more rounds.29.—Paddock tried to lead off, but was stopped. Jones then planted his left slightly on the right cheek, and Paddock got down.30.—Jones went to work, but without force, and after some slight exchanges, both fell on their knees exhausted. The intense heat must have been indeed distressing to both.31.—Slight exchanges, in which little mischief was done, and Paddock again down.32.—Both attempted to deliver, and both missed their mark. Slight exchanges, each on the left side of the nut, and both down fatigued.33.—Jones essayed a lead, which was neatly stopped. He then dashed in, and after a scrambling rally both fell over the ropes.34.—Paddock’s head presented an unique specimen of Aaron’s handiwork. The left cheek was swollen as big as a cocoa-nut, and his eye was all but covered up. With the other optic he glared furiously upon his opponent, and rushing at him, delivered his left on the cheek. Jones returned slightly on the body, and Tom dropped.35.—Paddock stopped Aaron’s left. Paddock returned twice heavily on the ribs with his right, leaving visible impression of his knuckles, and then dropped without a return, amidst the hisses of the Aaronites.36.—Paddock’s left well stopped. A tremendous ding-dong rally then took place, in which Paddock got it on the left eye and cheek, and Jones on the ribs. In the end both down.37.—Paddock’s left again stopped, and Jones returned on the side of the wig-block. Paddock then popped in his left with effect on the mouth, and after some more exchanges Paddock got down. He looked round anxiously at Jones, as he was being carried to his corner, and evidently wished his work was done.38.—Paddock made his right heavily on Jones’s body, and then his left on the side of his head. Both now pegged away with determination, and in a most unflinching way, as if they had received fresh vigour. The hitting, however, was in favour of Paddock, and in the end Jones fell weak. It had evidently been an expiring effort on his part to get a decided lead, and having failed it was now patent to all that his defeat was a mere question of time.39.—Paddock let go his left on the side of Aaron’s cheek, which led to some severe counter-hits. They then closed, and Paddock pegged away with his right at the ribs until both were down.40.—Some slight exchanges, without mischief, and Jones down.41.—Paddock came up with an awful grin; his single open peeper glaring in a most ludicrous manner. He tried to lead off, but napped it on the smeller and left ear, from which the main was again tuned on. Paddock then made his right on the ribs, and Jones dropped.42.—Paddock again effected a heavy right-handed delivery on the ribs, and after slight exchanges both were down.43.—Slight exchanges, in which neither was effective, and in a scramble they fell. Paddock under.44.—Jones attempted to lead off, but was easily stopped; Paddock returning heavily on his left eye, and then on the body, again screwed his courage to the sticking-place, and a second with his right and got down.45.—Paddock led off, but was short. In another attempt he reached Aaron’s damaged bread-basket, and dropped à la Bendigo. He jumped up to renew the fight, when Jones nailed him on the left side of his brain-pan, and Tom finally dropped to end this round.46.—Jones tried to lead, but was very slow, and easily stopped. Paddock again reached his ribs with his right, and a sharpish rally ended in their failing together at the ropes.47.—Paddock’s left was out of distance; he tried his right at the body but missed, and Jones dashing in, caught him on the right cheek slightly, and fell on his face.48.—Counter-hits with the left, Paddock catching Jones very heavily on the left temple, and dropping him as if shot.49.—Jones, very slow to the call of time, at length came up wildly. He staggered in to close, and they fell, Jones under.50.—Jones, alter a futile attempt to punish, fell weak.51.—Slight exchanges, but no mischief, and both down.52.—Wild, swinging hits which did not get home. Paddock then planted his right heavily on the ribs, and again got down, amidst loud hisses. There was no appeal to the referee, and the fight proceeded.53.—Paddock let go his left on the mouth; slight exchanges followed, and they then fell on their backs. Both were much exhausted, but Paddock was the stronger on his pins.54.—After slight exchanges, Paddock again made his right at the ribs, and got down.55.—Paddock led off, but was stopped. They then got close, and some slight fibbing ended in Jones seeking Mother Earth. Paddock stood looking at him, as much as to say, “Why don’t you cut it?” until he was carried to his corner.56.—Jones attempted to lead off, but Paddock countered him heavily on the cheek, and he fell, amidst cries of “Take him away.”57.—Jones, although slow to time, came up steadily, and succeeded in putting in a little one “on the place where Tom’s eye ought to be,” and having received in return on the proboscis, he fell on his latter end.58.—Paddock rushed in to finish, but Jones, to the surprise of all, stopped him, and some heavy counter-hits took place. Paddock getting another crack on his disfigured nob, and hitting Jones down by a spank on the dice-box.59.—Paddock planted his left on Jones’s kissing-organ heavily, opening a fresh tap, and Aaron again dropped. For two more rounds did Jones stagger up to the scratch, but it was only to receive—all the steel was out of him—he was extremely weak on his legs, one eye was closed, and the other following suit; his nose, mouth, and ribs were severely damaged, while Paddock—although tremendously disfigured about the title-page—had still a little “go” left in his trotters. Every one begged of Jones or his seconds on his behalf to give in, but the gallant fellow persevered against hope until the close of the 61st round, when getting another heavy crack on the mouth, he fell, almost senseless, and his seconds threw up the sponge in token of defeat, at the end of one hour and twenty-nine minutes. Poor Aaron, who had done all he could do to turn the tide in his favour, was much mortified by this second defeat at the hands of Paddock, and cried like a child. He could scarcely walk on leaving the ring, and was obliged to lie down on an adjacent bank for some time before he could be removed to the station. Paddock was no great shakes, and was evidently much delighted that his task was at an end. He went into the ring with a full conviction that he should not gain a bloodless victory, and that he should get his brain-pan pretty well knocked about, but we question whether even he, confident as he was, anticipated that it would be quite so “hot” as it turned out.Remarks.—Every one who witnessed the above battle will cordially agree with us that it was a determined, manly struggle for pre-eminence throughout. It clearly demonstrated to our mind, however, the fact that Jones does not possess sufficient physique to enable him to contend successfully against such a hardy bit of stuff as Tom Paddock. True, he is a harder hitter than Paddock, but then, after a time, unless a man has a frame of iron, this gift is materially diminished by the constant jar; and a determined adversary, with such a granite nob as Tom Paddock, capable of receiving almost any amount of punishment, is almost certain to last longest at mere give-and-take fighting, as was fully proved on Tuesday. Jones, notwithstanding he had received hints from the most accomplished boxer of the day, Jem Ward, still persevered in his old system of hitting principally with his right-hand, a practice which, although it altered Paddock’s physiognomy in the most extraordinary manner on one side, still was not calculated, unattended as it was by much execution from his left, to reduce his opponent to a state of darkness. He punished Paddock more than that hero was ever punished before, and we believe that, did he possess more wear and tear, it would have been a much nearer thing than it was. He had for some time the best of the hitting, but, falling weak, the inequality was quickly removed by the determination of Paddock, who, seeing that he had his work to do, never gave Jones breathing time to collect his faculties.The Old Tipton being matched with Aaron Jones, and Harry Broome being supposed to have retired from pugilism to publicanism, Tom was standing idle in the market-place, when on the 2nd of December he was enlivened by reading the following in the Ring column ofBell, under the heading of “Who is to have the Belt?” A new one having been justput into the hands of a fashionable goldsmith from the proceeds of a public subscription:“Mr. Editor,—It was my intention never to have entered the roped arena again, but the persuasions of my old friends and backers have determined me to pull off my shirt once more. I now come forward for the satisfaction of the public and the Prize Ring, in order to determine who’s the better man, Tom Paddock or myself. I will fight him for £200 a side for the Champion’s Belt, which I feel I am entitled to, for both the Tipton Slasher and Aaron Jones have been beaten by me or by men that I have beaten, and therefore I claim it, and shall do so until fairly beaten in a roped ring, as a trophy of that description ought to be contested for man to man, and never obtained upon a mere challenge. To prove that I mean to carry out what I state, I will meet Paddock at your office on Wednesday, Dec. 12, to sign articles, to which the following condition must be attached:—The money not, under any circumstances, to be parted with untilfairly won or lostin a 24 feet roped ring. Should this not suit Paddock (not that I wish to interfere with the match between the Tipton Slasher and Aaron Jones) I will fight Aaron Jones for £200 a side, whether he wins or loses with the Tipton Slasher. By inserting this, you will oblige.—Yours, &c.,“HENRY BROOME.”“Bell’s Life” Tavern, Strand,November 28, 1855.Paddock lost no time in calling on the stakeholder, and leaving £10 early in the next week, under condition that if he could not raise £200, they should meet for £100. Broome did not flinch, and, after two more “conditional” deposits, articles were signed in the editorial sanctum ofBell’s Life, by which Thomas Paddock and Henry Broome mutually bound themselves to fight for £200 a side, on Monday, May 19th, 1856, within 100 and over 50 miles from London. The anxiety in boxing circles, as the day drew near and all was found progressing smoothly to the desired issue, became intense; and Alec Keene’s “Three Tuns,” in Moor Street, whence Paddock was backed, and Harry’s own house, the newly named “Bell’s Life” Tavern (now the “Norfolk Arms”), in the Strand, were crowded with curious inquirers as to how the men went on, and for “the straight tip.” On the day previous both champions showed, and the distribution of colours—a blue with white spot for Broome, and a blue with a white check for Paddock—on the usual terms of a guinea or “nothing,” was extensive. Paddock was closely scrutinised by both friends and foes, each equally anxious to ascertain whether time or previous contests had impaired his freshness or vigour; but no traces of deterioration were there, and those who felt his muscle declared their belief that he was never in finer trim.Harry’s appearance, so far as his face was concerned, was that of perfect health, and the disappearance of the protuberance which had long been visible under his waistcoat was remarkable. These signs of careful training, with the prestige of his name, carried the odds to 6 and 7 to 4 in his favour. We knew that he worked hard and was most creditably abstemious; but we feared, as the sequel proved, that he was unable to train efficiently,and that strength was lost in the great reduction of weight to which he had been subjected.It had been the original intention of the backers of the men to have given the inhabitants of Kent and Sussex the opportunity of a view of this encounter; but it proved, upon inquiry, that it was impossible to obtain a “special” on those lines, as some saints in the directorate of the companies had issued an ukase against such “excursions” as were not to their own taste or under their own patronage. Recourse was, therefore, had to the Eastern Counties, where the necessary facilities for an excursion of “Odd Fellows” was applied for and granted. It was suggested to the “managers” of the “outing”—Alec Keene, Fred Broome, and Dan Dismore—that any invasion of the territory of Cambridge, Huntingdon, or the country round Mildenhall or Brandon, would inevitably be resisted; so these worthies, after consultation with experienced strategists, deemed it prudent to abandon the old and beaten track, and strike out a new plan of campaign. The company’s agent was, therefore, apprised that the excursionists wished to pass through Suffolk into Norfolk, by the Eastern Union Line, as their place of reunion would be a few miles beyond Ipswich. The officials made their arrangements accordingly, and on our arrival at the Shoreditch terminus, at eight o’clock on Monday morning, we found that no pains had been spared to prevent anything like crushing or disorder at the doors. The neighbourhood of the station was, as usual, crowded with anxious spectators, who hoped to get a view of the principals in the forthcoming duel; but, so far as Broome was concerned, they were disappointed, as he had proceeded at an early hour to Stratford, where it was arranged the train should stop and pick him up. Paddock, however, accompanied by Jemmy Massey and Alec Keene, was early at the starting-place, and was eagerly greeted by the multitude. From the heavy tariff which had been determined on, we fully expected to find the company not only very select, but far from numerous, and we anticipated that the original number of carriages ordered would have been found sufficient; but such was the rush of the public, that, long before the hour of starting, every carriage was filled, and chiefly by respectable persons. It was soon perceptible that a considerable addition to the conveyances was required, and no less than seven extra carriages were added, all of which filled almost immediately; and, not only so, but very shortly after the special had started a sufficient number of gentlemen arrived at the station to charter another train of some four or five carriages, to follow that containing the belligerents. Amongthevoyageursby the first train were almost all the pugilists of note, and an immense number of Corinthians of every grade. In fact, a larger muster of the higher classes we have not seen on such an occasion for many years. There were one or two familiar faces missing, but there were quite sufficient new hands to make up for the deficiency. Among the company was an Indian prince of high rank, and his suite, anxious to obtain a glimpse of the peculiarly national spectacle, and we were delighted to hear that he was treated throughout with the greatest respect, and suffered not the slightest indignity from the thoughtless throng on account of his peculiar appearance or unaccustomed manners; a piece of good behaviour on the part of an unpoliced crowd that was a creditable example to those public gatherings which pretend to superior order and civility. The only complaint we heard on the way down was on the subject of the commissariat, the want of “belly-timber” being universally felt. It turned out that the absence of refreshment among the Corinthians was attributable to the pressure of a certain class at the doors of the station, who, unwilling to pay, and anxious to get a trip for nothing, besieged the doors at the latest moment, in the hope of taking the officials off their guard, and so making a rush for the platform. The formidable appearance of this phalanx induced the police of the line to close the doors and refuse admission to all. Unluckily, amongst the late arrivals, was Mr. Commissary Dismore, who, with his Land Transport Corps, well provided with everything necessary, arrived just too late. Dan himself contrived to get round by a private way on to the platform, but, alas! the “vital ammunition” was cut off. Thanks, however, to the second special, the provisions were brought down in time for the hungry and thirsty souls to refresh themselves after the mill, when due justice was done to Dan’s ample provision. The first special did not leave Shoreditch until a quarter past nine; it reached Stratford about half-past; and here Harry Broome and his friends were picked up. Harry’s mug looked hard and healthy, and about his mouth was a smile of confidence. The universal exclamation was, “How well he looks!” and the short glimpse obtained of him induced many persons to “open” at offers of 7 to 4 on him—offers which the friends of Paddock were not slow to accept. The train now sped on at a good pace to Chelmsford, where water was taken in, and we again set forward on our journey. At Manningtree, where a second refresher was necessary for the engine, an intimation was received that the “war hawks” were abroad, and that the Ipswich police had, through the indiscretionof some would-be-clever persons, who had gone on over night, obtained a scent of what was intended, and had telegraphed to the police at Diss, in Norfolk, and other places, to be on the look-out. This intimation arrived most opportunely, and it was at once resolved to put on the double, and to bring off the mill as close as possible to Ipswich, where it was least expected. The commander-in-chief mounted the engine, and, under his direction, a likely spot was selected, where the train was brought to a halt, and the assembled multitude, to the number of at least five hundred, dropped upon the field like a flight of crows. Several of the committee of the P.B.A. at once spread themselves about the field in skirmishing order to select the best spot, but while they were so engaged the Commissary and Callas had pitched upon a place which, although not the best, was still tolerably level, and the grass was not very long. Here no time was lost in getting up the fixings. It was uncertain how long the Ipswich “blues” would be hoodwinked, and, therefore, time was everything. A large outer-ring was formed simultaneously with the original circle, and round this the non-paying part of the community quickly ranged themselves. The business of selling inner-ring tickets proceeded briskly, and a sum of £47 was realised thereby, the surplus of which, after paying ring-keepers and the farmer on whose grounds the mill took place for damage to his grass, went to the funds of the Association. So great was the number of privilege ticket-holders that, on sitting down at some distance from the ring, they formed a double row almost the whole way round, and effectually proved their own barrier against the irruption of those who at all times are more free than welcome. It is true that several of the latter class, by some means, obtained access to Broome’s corner later on, where their vociferations were the reverse of agreeable; but, thanks to the exertions of Mike Madden, Bill Barry, and Fred Mason, they were effectually kept within bounds. At length, by a quarter to one, everything was in apple-pie order, and the signal being given, the men at once stepped into the arena; Harry Broome attended by Tass Parker and Tom Sayers, and Paddock under the surveillance of the accomplished Alec Keene and Jemmy Massey. They smiled and shook hands, Harry shaking his nut in a significant manner at Tom, as much as to say, “I’ve got you at last, old fellow.” The colours were now tied to the post, and while the men were preparing their toilet a good deal of betting took place. The first offer was £35 to £20 on Broome—a bet which was at once made and staked. 7 to 4 was then laid very freely, the business of booking and staking going onmost briskly. Massey now came forward and offered to take £20 to £10, but not being able to get a higher bid than £15 to £10, he closed, and this amount was staked, as was also a similar bet laid to Alec Keene. The layers now began to hang back, and £30 to £20 became the current odds, at which a good deal more business was done. A heavier amount of betting we never remember to have witnessed at the ring-side; and this tended, more than anything else, to show the intense interest the battle excited. At length, offers became more languid, and finally ceased altogether; and as we did not hear of a single bet after the mill commenced, we are inclined to think that the speculators had staked every farthing they brought with them. By one o’clock it was announced that both men were quite ready, and time being called they were led to the scratch, where, after the usual hands across, they were left, peeled to the buff, and their proportions and condition displayed to the curious gaze of the assembled throng.Tom Paddock, as he stood at the scratch, looked every inch a gladiator. Each thew and sinew was perfectly developed, and seemed ready to burst the tightened skin. His broad shoulders and deep chest, covered with ponderous muscles, were the admiration of all; and the distinctness with which his lower ribs were visible proved that there was not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his wiry, powerful frame. His mug was hard and ruddy, and there was clearly little there to swell up should his dial come in too close propinquity to Harry’s sledge-hammers. He looked good-humoured, but determined, and evidently feeling the importance of the occasion, he toed the scratch with a determination to “do or die.” Widely different was the aspect presented by the once powerful Harry Broome. True it was that he had got rid of his superabundant belly, but in doing so it was apparent to all that he had also got rid of much of his muscle and sinew. When he fought Harry Orme he was certainly well covered with fat, but still underneath this coating the evidences of great power were plainly visible; but now, what a falling off was there! Barring the aforesaid protuberance, he was as fat as ever, but all appearances of sinewy strength had vanished. His breasts were soft and puffy, his arms round and smooth, while the flesh on his once fine back hung in collops; there was also a slight eruption on his pale skin, which betokened a feverish state of the blood, which would not have been guessed from the appearance of his face. He said he felt quite well, though not so strong as on former occasions. On inquiring of Joe Bostock, who had been with him while he finished his training at Bosham, near Chichester, we learned that he hadseveral times complained of weakness, and that the more he tried to get his fat off the more did it seem to accumulate. Harry himself informed us, and we are satisfied as to the truth of his statement, that he reduced himself upwards of 3st.in the course of his exercise, but he found himself getting so weak that he was compelled at last to be more gentle in his work; and he now declares his belief that had he gone into the ring in his ordinary state, without any preparation whatever, he would have been better and stronger than he was on Monday. With all his drawbacks, however, he was extremely confident as to the result of the battle, and advised his friends to back him at all hazards. He no doubt depended upon his science, and expected to set at defiance the well-known onslaughts of his opponent. We must now bring these preliminaries to a conclusion, and proceed to our account of
THE FIGHT.Round 1.—On assuming the perpendicular it was evident that Jones was the taller and more symmetrical man. He was, despite rumour, in excellent condition. There was a pleasing smile of confidence and an ease in his attitude that favourably impressed the spectators; in short, he looked a model of a 12 stone man. Tom, the rough-and-ready, seemed rather lighter than usual—he was declared to be no more than 11st.9lbs.—but he still looked rounder, stronger, and tougher than his fairer skinned opponent. Paddock lost no time in sparring but went straight in, catching Jones on the forehead, but getting a smack in return on the proboscis from Jones, who said, smilingly, “You had it there!” Paddock replied by making another dash, and landing on Aaron’s cheek, who retorted on the side of Tom’s head. Some rather wild exchanges followed, left andright, in which each displayed more haste than judgment; they then broke away. Paddock twice made his left on Jones’s cheek, leaving marks of his handiwork; on trying a third time, Jones countered him sharply on the nose, then closed, and both rolled over, Paddock undermost.2.—Paddock let go his left and reached Jones’s ear, another attempt was too high, and a third was cleverly stopped. Paddock bored in, when Jones met him with a sounding spank on the left eye that made Tom “see fireworks.” Paddock forced the fighting, but after a rally, in which no harm was done, Jones gripped Paddock and threw him in good style, falling on him. (Applause from the “Rising Sun.”)3.—Jones came up all smiles, but Paddock did not give him a chance of leading off, for he rattled in left and right, but was cleverly stopped. Tom afterwards succeeded in landing on Aaron’s ribs, but sent his left over Jones’s shoulder. He then bored in, but Jones jumped back quickly, caught Paddock in his arms, and again threw him neatly, Jones being evidently the better wrestler.4.—Paddock made his left hand and then his right, the latter heavily, on Aaron’s left optic. A ding-dong rally ensued, in which Jones drew “first blood” from Tom’s smelling organ. The men closed, and some severe fighting took place at close quarters, Jones getting it on the forehead and ear, Paddock on the ribs. Both down.5.—Jones’s left peeper in mourning from Paddock’s one, two, in the previous round. Paddock grinned derisively, and at once went to work, but was stopped cleverly. Jones returned with both hands, dropping on to Tom’s nose and left cheek. Paddock looked vexed, and went in with both hands, when Jones was down first.6.—Paddock led off, but Jones countered him heavily on the nose. Paddock reciprocated with a heavy left-hander, also on the nasal prominence, and after some exchanges both were down.7.—Paddock led off short, and Jones missed his left, but soon afterwards got on his right on the side of Tom’s head, inflicting a deep cut that bled freely. Jones closed, and after a brief struggle threw Paddock a burster.8.—Jones led off, nailed Tom sharply on the left eyebrow with the right, closed at the ropes, and hung on Paddock till he got down.9.—Paddock looked unutterable things at finding Jones was not the easy customer he had expected. He rushed in, hit-or-miss, banged in his left at Aaron’s head, who retaliated straight and swift on the cheek and side of the brain-pan; this led to a rally in favour of Jones, who threw Paddock, and walked to his corner laughing.10.—Paddock began hastily, but was stopped. Jones closed and again threw him, falling on him.11.—Paddock let fly his left, but was short. Jones kept him at arm’s length. Paddock got closer, but his hits were stopped. Jones then got home on Tom’s left eye, making a cut and drawing the crimson fluid. Some tremendous exchanges followed, Jones sticking to his work in a style that electrified those who doubted his pluck, and in the end Jones gained the second event by knocking Paddock off his legs by a right-hander which cut open his left eyebrow. (“First knock-down” for Jones.) The layers of 3 to 1, for some had ventured those odds, looked blue, and there was some anxiety to “hedge;” even money would have been taken, but there were no layers.12.—Jones’s left optic all but closed. He went in wildly, and Paddock slipped down.13.—Jones let go his left, which went over Tom’s shoulder; with his right he was more successful, and reached Tom’s left eye a sharp crack. Paddock was out of distance with his return, and Jones again slipped down.14.—Paddock led off, but was prettily stopped, left and right. Jones returned on the left temple, closed, and again threw Paddock heavily, falling on him.15.—On getting together, good exchanges took place, Paddock reaching Aaron’s snuffbox smartly, but Jones giving him a rattler on the domino-box in return. Jones, in the rally which followed, struck Paddock on the top of the head, to the damage of his own dexter fin, and then slipped down.16.—Jones dashed in fearlessly, got home a heavy one on Tom’s left ear, who went down on his right hand with a sort of half-consenting stagger, and so finished the round.17.—Jones, still forcing the fighting, dashed out left and right, and Tom, in stopping and getting away, fell by catching his heel against the centre stake.18.—Paddock now tried for a lead; he opened the ball by dropping his left on Aaron’s cheek-bone, and got it on the side of the head—tit-for-tat. Some tremendous exchanges followed, when Jones closed, shot his left arm round Paddock’s neck, threw him a clean back-fall, and fell on him. (We learned, subsequently, that in this round Jones so severely injured his left shoulder that he was incapacitated from its free use for several succeeding rounds; he also complained that Jerry Noon, by his careless way of lifting him, increased the mischief by an additional twist.)19.—Jones went in and pegged away, but his left-hand hits seemed ineffective; Tom hit out wildly, but at last fell with his own consent.20–24.—Jones planted on Paddock’s frontispiece cleverly; but there was no steam in the hits. In the last-named round Paddock slipped down, but instantly jumped up to renew the round; Jones, who was in the arms of his seconds, released himself, and at it they went. After some wild exchanges,the men embraced, swung round, and both fell.25.—Paddock got home his left bunch of fives on Aaron’s sadly damaged optic. Jones returned on the side of the head, and in going down narrowly escaped a swinging blow from Paddock’s right.26.—Jones dashed in on the snout, whence spouted a crimson jet, then closed, and, after a short struggle, both fell, Paddock under.27.—Jones again rattled in, but his left-hand blows seemed mere pushes, his following hits with the right being sharp and heavy. After mutual exchanges, Jones again gripped Paddock and threw him, falling over him. As they lay on the ground Paddock patted Jones on the shoulder, in a patronising way, as if saying, “Well done, my lad!”28.—Jones broke ground by letting go both hands, but they were mere fly-flaps. In trying to get nearer he missed his left, over-reached himself, and fell.29.—Paddock, tired of the defensive, dashed in; they quickly got to work, and after a merry rally, in which there were several mutual misses, both were down, Paddock undermost.30–34.—Good sharp rounds, with equal success; Paddock getting twice or three times on to Jones’s good eye—the right—which looked in danger of following suit like its sinister brother. In the last round Paddock again thrown.35.—Paddock, anxious for a turn, went in resolutely; Jones met him with the right, and propped him severely, his left, though he made use of it in stopping, doing no damage to his opponent. In the exchanges Paddock slipped down.36–46.—Similar in character, sharp rallies, some wild but punishing exchanges; Jones the best of the closes, but Paddock hitting hardest.47.—Jones went in and forced his man determinedly; he got his right hand heavily on Tom’s listener, but received a slashing upper-cut while attempting to close, he staggered and fell, his knees evidently failing him.48.—Paddock grinned at his opponent, and looked round at his friends, nodding his head as he put up his hands at the scratch. He popped in his left on the side of Aaron’s head, who fell, Paddock just missing a right-hander as Jones went to earth.49–52.—Jones’s fighting ineffective, and Paddock slowly improving his position.53.—Paddock again visited the old spot on Jones’s left cheek, and Jones was again down. It was evident the steam was out of Jones’s deliveries, though he yet preserved his form of stopping and hitting. In fact, his left was no longer his best weapon. From this to the 70th round comparatively little mischief was done, through exhaustion from continued exertion, falls, and repeated blows. Paddock, whose hands were swollen by repeated visitations to Jones’s forehead and brain-pan, did but little execution, while Jones, with his sprained left shoulder and weakened understandings, was too tottery to go in with effect. In the 78th round Paddock sent a smasher into Jones’s remaining window, the shutter of which was fast closing. Cries of “Take him away!” to which Jones contemptuously replied, “I’m good for another hour!”79.—Paddock went in as if to finish, but Jones astonished him by stopping his left, and retaliating with such a stinger on the side of the nut, that he rolled down and over, amidst the shouts of the spectators.80.—Jones was evidently fighting against fate. Paddock, though his hands were puffed, seemed little the worse for wear in wind or strength, while Jones was weak on his pins, pumped out, had but one good arm, and was gradually losing distinct vision. Forty-one more rounds were fought, making 121; but though Jones made many gallant efforts to turn the tide, fate was against him. His backers (the principal one was absent) were willing he should give in, but the game fellow would not hear of it. He gradually became blind, and, at length, in the 121st round, he rushed wildly in the direction of Paddock, who steadily propped him on the side of the jaw with the left, then delivering his right on the body, down went poor Aaron in a heap, nature forsook him, and Paddock stood over him the victor, after a determined struggle oftwo hours and twenty-four minutes.Both men were immediately conveyed on board “Waterman No. 7,” where they received every attention. Paddock quickly recovered, though his external marks of punishment were numerous and severe; Jones, however, was not himself for a considerable period. The boat at once returned to town; but as she departed before the second fight (between Spooner and Donovan) was concluded, ourselves and many others were compelled to avail ourselves of the Gravesend Railway,viaDartford or Purfleet, which brought all in good time to their homes in the great Metropolis.Remarks.—The reader of the foregoing account will cordially agree with us that Jones in this gallant battle completely wiped out any stain of cowardice which the result of his battle with Orme might have attached to his character. His own statement to us, that he did not refuse to meet Orme a third time from any dread of punishment, but simply upon the advice of his backers and friends, was fully borne out. His perseverance, after the disablement of his left shoulder in the 18th round, and the unflinching endurance with which he faced so determined a two-handed hitter as Paddock, for ever dispose of the imputation of a white feather in Aaron’s composition. The loser certainly left no stone unturned, noresource untried, to achieve victory, and if he failed to command success he did more—he deserved it. Paddock, as usual in his later fights, fought with coolness and good-humour, taking the roughest blows and falls without a murmur. His left cheek, eye, temple, and ear were fearfully swollen, while the right side presented a curious contrast by retaining its original shape and expression. His hands were more injured than in any of his previous battles, and this will account for the protracted nature of the contest after the tide had turned against Jones. The fairness of Paddock’s fighting, even, on several occasions, to the extent of forbearance, was the admiration of all who witnessed the contest. Paddock, too, was certainly weak towards the close, owing to the burning sun under which the battle was fought. For ourselves, the mere work of sitting in a somewhat constrained position, in the full blaze of its rays, attending to our duties as referee, occasionally holding a bet, and taking the note which form the “bones” of the foregoing account, so entirely beat us that we can speak feelingly of the labours of the men who were subjected to and went through such a trying ordeal. Their endurance speaks volumes for the wonderful results attainable by training and condition. In brief, we may say in conclusion, that a better or more courageous fight has not been seen since Paddock last met the game and persevering Poulson.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—On assuming the perpendicular it was evident that Jones was the taller and more symmetrical man. He was, despite rumour, in excellent condition. There was a pleasing smile of confidence and an ease in his attitude that favourably impressed the spectators; in short, he looked a model of a 12 stone man. Tom, the rough-and-ready, seemed rather lighter than usual—he was declared to be no more than 11st.9lbs.—but he still looked rounder, stronger, and tougher than his fairer skinned opponent. Paddock lost no time in sparring but went straight in, catching Jones on the forehead, but getting a smack in return on the proboscis from Jones, who said, smilingly, “You had it there!” Paddock replied by making another dash, and landing on Aaron’s cheek, who retorted on the side of Tom’s head. Some rather wild exchanges followed, left andright, in which each displayed more haste than judgment; they then broke away. Paddock twice made his left on Jones’s cheek, leaving marks of his handiwork; on trying a third time, Jones countered him sharply on the nose, then closed, and both rolled over, Paddock undermost.
2.—Paddock let go his left and reached Jones’s ear, another attempt was too high, and a third was cleverly stopped. Paddock bored in, when Jones met him with a sounding spank on the left eye that made Tom “see fireworks.” Paddock forced the fighting, but after a rally, in which no harm was done, Jones gripped Paddock and threw him in good style, falling on him. (Applause from the “Rising Sun.”)
3.—Jones came up all smiles, but Paddock did not give him a chance of leading off, for he rattled in left and right, but was cleverly stopped. Tom afterwards succeeded in landing on Aaron’s ribs, but sent his left over Jones’s shoulder. He then bored in, but Jones jumped back quickly, caught Paddock in his arms, and again threw him neatly, Jones being evidently the better wrestler.
4.—Paddock made his left hand and then his right, the latter heavily, on Aaron’s left optic. A ding-dong rally ensued, in which Jones drew “first blood” from Tom’s smelling organ. The men closed, and some severe fighting took place at close quarters, Jones getting it on the forehead and ear, Paddock on the ribs. Both down.
5.—Jones’s left peeper in mourning from Paddock’s one, two, in the previous round. Paddock grinned derisively, and at once went to work, but was stopped cleverly. Jones returned with both hands, dropping on to Tom’s nose and left cheek. Paddock looked vexed, and went in with both hands, when Jones was down first.
6.—Paddock led off, but Jones countered him heavily on the nose. Paddock reciprocated with a heavy left-hander, also on the nasal prominence, and after some exchanges both were down.
7.—Paddock led off short, and Jones missed his left, but soon afterwards got on his right on the side of Tom’s head, inflicting a deep cut that bled freely. Jones closed, and after a brief struggle threw Paddock a burster.
8.—Jones led off, nailed Tom sharply on the left eyebrow with the right, closed at the ropes, and hung on Paddock till he got down.
9.—Paddock looked unutterable things at finding Jones was not the easy customer he had expected. He rushed in, hit-or-miss, banged in his left at Aaron’s head, who retaliated straight and swift on the cheek and side of the brain-pan; this led to a rally in favour of Jones, who threw Paddock, and walked to his corner laughing.
10.—Paddock began hastily, but was stopped. Jones closed and again threw him, falling on him.
11.—Paddock let fly his left, but was short. Jones kept him at arm’s length. Paddock got closer, but his hits were stopped. Jones then got home on Tom’s left eye, making a cut and drawing the crimson fluid. Some tremendous exchanges followed, Jones sticking to his work in a style that electrified those who doubted his pluck, and in the end Jones gained the second event by knocking Paddock off his legs by a right-hander which cut open his left eyebrow. (“First knock-down” for Jones.) The layers of 3 to 1, for some had ventured those odds, looked blue, and there was some anxiety to “hedge;” even money would have been taken, but there were no layers.
12.—Jones’s left optic all but closed. He went in wildly, and Paddock slipped down.
13.—Jones let go his left, which went over Tom’s shoulder; with his right he was more successful, and reached Tom’s left eye a sharp crack. Paddock was out of distance with his return, and Jones again slipped down.
14.—Paddock led off, but was prettily stopped, left and right. Jones returned on the left temple, closed, and again threw Paddock heavily, falling on him.
15.—On getting together, good exchanges took place, Paddock reaching Aaron’s snuffbox smartly, but Jones giving him a rattler on the domino-box in return. Jones, in the rally which followed, struck Paddock on the top of the head, to the damage of his own dexter fin, and then slipped down.
16.—Jones dashed in fearlessly, got home a heavy one on Tom’s left ear, who went down on his right hand with a sort of half-consenting stagger, and so finished the round.
17.—Jones, still forcing the fighting, dashed out left and right, and Tom, in stopping and getting away, fell by catching his heel against the centre stake.
18.—Paddock now tried for a lead; he opened the ball by dropping his left on Aaron’s cheek-bone, and got it on the side of the head—tit-for-tat. Some tremendous exchanges followed, when Jones closed, shot his left arm round Paddock’s neck, threw him a clean back-fall, and fell on him. (We learned, subsequently, that in this round Jones so severely injured his left shoulder that he was incapacitated from its free use for several succeeding rounds; he also complained that Jerry Noon, by his careless way of lifting him, increased the mischief by an additional twist.)
19.—Jones went in and pegged away, but his left-hand hits seemed ineffective; Tom hit out wildly, but at last fell with his own consent.
20–24.—Jones planted on Paddock’s frontispiece cleverly; but there was no steam in the hits. In the last-named round Paddock slipped down, but instantly jumped up to renew the round; Jones, who was in the arms of his seconds, released himself, and at it they went. After some wild exchanges,the men embraced, swung round, and both fell.
25.—Paddock got home his left bunch of fives on Aaron’s sadly damaged optic. Jones returned on the side of the head, and in going down narrowly escaped a swinging blow from Paddock’s right.
26.—Jones dashed in on the snout, whence spouted a crimson jet, then closed, and, after a short struggle, both fell, Paddock under.
27.—Jones again rattled in, but his left-hand blows seemed mere pushes, his following hits with the right being sharp and heavy. After mutual exchanges, Jones again gripped Paddock and threw him, falling over him. As they lay on the ground Paddock patted Jones on the shoulder, in a patronising way, as if saying, “Well done, my lad!”
28.—Jones broke ground by letting go both hands, but they were mere fly-flaps. In trying to get nearer he missed his left, over-reached himself, and fell.
29.—Paddock, tired of the defensive, dashed in; they quickly got to work, and after a merry rally, in which there were several mutual misses, both were down, Paddock undermost.
30–34.—Good sharp rounds, with equal success; Paddock getting twice or three times on to Jones’s good eye—the right—which looked in danger of following suit like its sinister brother. In the last round Paddock again thrown.
35.—Paddock, anxious for a turn, went in resolutely; Jones met him with the right, and propped him severely, his left, though he made use of it in stopping, doing no damage to his opponent. In the exchanges Paddock slipped down.
36–46.—Similar in character, sharp rallies, some wild but punishing exchanges; Jones the best of the closes, but Paddock hitting hardest.
47.—Jones went in and forced his man determinedly; he got his right hand heavily on Tom’s listener, but received a slashing upper-cut while attempting to close, he staggered and fell, his knees evidently failing him.
48.—Paddock grinned at his opponent, and looked round at his friends, nodding his head as he put up his hands at the scratch. He popped in his left on the side of Aaron’s head, who fell, Paddock just missing a right-hander as Jones went to earth.
49–52.—Jones’s fighting ineffective, and Paddock slowly improving his position.
53.—Paddock again visited the old spot on Jones’s left cheek, and Jones was again down. It was evident the steam was out of Jones’s deliveries, though he yet preserved his form of stopping and hitting. In fact, his left was no longer his best weapon. From this to the 70th round comparatively little mischief was done, through exhaustion from continued exertion, falls, and repeated blows. Paddock, whose hands were swollen by repeated visitations to Jones’s forehead and brain-pan, did but little execution, while Jones, with his sprained left shoulder and weakened understandings, was too tottery to go in with effect. In the 78th round Paddock sent a smasher into Jones’s remaining window, the shutter of which was fast closing. Cries of “Take him away!” to which Jones contemptuously replied, “I’m good for another hour!”
79.—Paddock went in as if to finish, but Jones astonished him by stopping his left, and retaliating with such a stinger on the side of the nut, that he rolled down and over, amidst the shouts of the spectators.
80.—Jones was evidently fighting against fate. Paddock, though his hands were puffed, seemed little the worse for wear in wind or strength, while Jones was weak on his pins, pumped out, had but one good arm, and was gradually losing distinct vision. Forty-one more rounds were fought, making 121; but though Jones made many gallant efforts to turn the tide, fate was against him. His backers (the principal one was absent) were willing he should give in, but the game fellow would not hear of it. He gradually became blind, and, at length, in the 121st round, he rushed wildly in the direction of Paddock, who steadily propped him on the side of the jaw with the left, then delivering his right on the body, down went poor Aaron in a heap, nature forsook him, and Paddock stood over him the victor, after a determined struggle oftwo hours and twenty-four minutes.
Both men were immediately conveyed on board “Waterman No. 7,” where they received every attention. Paddock quickly recovered, though his external marks of punishment were numerous and severe; Jones, however, was not himself for a considerable period. The boat at once returned to town; but as she departed before the second fight (between Spooner and Donovan) was concluded, ourselves and many others were compelled to avail ourselves of the Gravesend Railway,viaDartford or Purfleet, which brought all in good time to their homes in the great Metropolis.
Remarks.—The reader of the foregoing account will cordially agree with us that Jones in this gallant battle completely wiped out any stain of cowardice which the result of his battle with Orme might have attached to his character. His own statement to us, that he did not refuse to meet Orme a third time from any dread of punishment, but simply upon the advice of his backers and friends, was fully borne out. His perseverance, after the disablement of his left shoulder in the 18th round, and the unflinching endurance with which he faced so determined a two-handed hitter as Paddock, for ever dispose of the imputation of a white feather in Aaron’s composition. The loser certainly left no stone unturned, noresource untried, to achieve victory, and if he failed to command success he did more—he deserved it. Paddock, as usual in his later fights, fought with coolness and good-humour, taking the roughest blows and falls without a murmur. His left cheek, eye, temple, and ear were fearfully swollen, while the right side presented a curious contrast by retaining its original shape and expression. His hands were more injured than in any of his previous battles, and this will account for the protracted nature of the contest after the tide had turned against Jones. The fairness of Paddock’s fighting, even, on several occasions, to the extent of forbearance, was the admiration of all who witnessed the contest. Paddock, too, was certainly weak towards the close, owing to the burning sun under which the battle was fought. For ourselves, the mere work of sitting in a somewhat constrained position, in the full blaze of its rays, attending to our duties as referee, occasionally holding a bet, and taking the note which form the “bones” of the foregoing account, so entirely beat us that we can speak feelingly of the labours of the men who were subjected to and went through such a trying ordeal. Their endurance speaks volumes for the wonderful results attainable by training and condition. In brief, we may say in conclusion, that a better or more courageous fight has not been seen since Paddock last met the game and persevering Poulson.
The battle-money (£200) was handed to Paddock on the ensuing Monday, at Alec Keene’s, “Three Tuns,” Moor Street, Soho, when a handsome collection was made as a golden salve for the wounds of the brave but unfortunate Aaron Jones.
That Aaron Jones fully removed by his last two battles every trace of suspicion as to want of game is certain, but that he will ever be able to take a first-rate position as a pugilist is extremely dubious; not from want of either courage or capabilities as a punisher, but from the simple fact that his constitution is not sufficiently strong to enable him to stand for any great length of time the fatigues of a contest with a determined lasting adversary like Paddock. He is a civil, well-conducted young fellow, and a great favourite among those who know him well. His defeat has not lost him a single friend, though it has gained him many. It is just possible that his constitutional defects may be removed as he grows older, and if they are, he will prove an awkward customer to any one who may fancy him; but unless he can improve his stamina, and that very materially, we would advise him to abstain in future from milling pursuits. Paddock fought steadier and with more generalship than we had given him credit for, and, to our surprise, his hands, which in all former battles had swelled so as almost to incapacitate him from inflicting punishment, stood firm and hard to the last. His hits were delivered with much judgment, and, although he was fearfully punished, he never flinched from his task. He says it was a much tougher job than he expected, and does not disguise the fact that he was glad when it was over; he also adds, that whoever fights Jones in future will find he must put up with a good deal more punching than will do him good. Many persons found fault with Paddock for dropping on several occasions after delivering his right on Jones’s most vulnerable point, the ribs, and certainly we agree that such a practice should havebeen avoided. It must be remembered, however, that Paddock was himself seriously injured, and fast growing blind, and that he could scarcely be expected to display that coolness which under more favourable circumstances would have been expected from him. These dropping manœuvres were also in a material degree counterbalanced by his manly conduct in the eleventh round, when he refrained from punishing Jones, when the latter was in a defenceless but perfectly fair position for being hit.
Our hero was allowed scant breathing-time after this tremendous encounter. At the giving up of the stakes at Mr. Jackson’s, King Street Mews, Park Lane, on the following Tuesday, the fearless Tom Sayers presented himself and proposed a battle for £200, catch-weight, but the details were postponed to a future meeting at Bill Hayes’s in the ensuing week. In the interval Tom’s friends had entered into what the politicians callpourparlerswith some friends of Harry Poulson, and this proved “a red herring” that crossed the “line,” and so the match with Tom Sayers was for the present a lost “scent.”
In the papers of August 27, we read as follows:—
“The gallant Tom Paddock having waited for some time for a reply to the question we put to the Tipton Slasher, as to whether he intends to maintain his claim to the Championship, and having seen no answer, declares that if Perry has retired—as he is at a loss to know which of these worthies is actual Champion—he will fight Harry Broome for £200 or £300 a side.” [We may state, for Paddock’s information, that Broome, when he forfeited some time back to the Slasher, declared his intention of retiring from the Ring, and leaving the title to the Tipton.] “Paddock adds that if neither Perry nor Broome takes up the gauntlet, he shall consider himself Champion, as prepared to meet all comers.”
In the following week’s issue, the Editor announces that Johnny Broome has called on him, and left a deposit to “find a man” who will fight Paddock for £200, or any larger sum.
As the day of the battle approached, the interest in the expected encounter increased, and the eighteenth deposit, carrying the stakes up to £160, being duly posted at Alec Keene’s, “Three Tuns,” Moor Street, Soho, all seemed going fairly. On the following Tuesday, however, an alarming intelligence reached Air Street, that Harry had been apprehended at his training quarters at Patcham, and taken before the Brighton magistrates, by whom he had been bound over to keep the peace for three months, thus putting an end to hostilities for that period at least. Weshall not here encumber our pages by any detail of the angry “’fending and proving” which followed this very mysterious arrest, of which each sought to cast the blame on his opponent’s party. On this occasion the Editor ofBell’s Life, who was the stakeholder, declared it to be his duty, from documents laid before him, to hand over to Paddock the £180 deposited, which was done on the 20th of February, 1855. Hereupon Broome deposited £10 for a fresh match, to come off on May 7th, after the expiry of Harry’s recognisances, which Paddock covered, and once again received forfeit from his wrangling opponent on the 12th of March. Hereupon the “highest authority” declared, “in answer to numerous correspondents,” that “Tom Paddock is now Champion of England, until the position is wrested from him by the Tipton Slasher or Aaron Jones, or confirmed to him by their defeat.” And here we may note that “old K-legs” was still “pegging away on the same line;” but the ruddy hero of Redditch fancied Aaron Jones to be an easier job, so he postponed his old friend’s invitation, and joined issue with Jones by signing articles on April 3rd, at Bill Hayes’s, the “Crown,” in Cranbourne Passage, to fight on the 26th of June, 1855, for £100 a side, within 70 and over 50 miles from London. As we were present on the previous Thursday, at Dan Dismore’s, and ourselves registered the “ring-constables” for preservation of order on the occasion, it may be interesting to print our note. Those who gave in their names were: Nat Langham, Edward Hoiles (the Spider), Tom Sayers, Jack Grant, Jemmy Welsh, Young Sambo (Welsh), Jemmy Massey, Billy Duncan, Charley Mallett, John Hicks, Alf. Walker, Tom Adams, and Ned More; Ned Adams, Inspector. All these were provided with armlets and a number, and were empowered to prevent any person intruding within the outer roped circle, unless provided with an inner-ring ticket, purchased of them individually or of the appointed distributors. Each of these constables was compensated by an “honorarium” in proportion to the receipts for “privilege” tickets, which was subject to deduction or fines for proved remissness or breach of duty. These arrangements fell into confusion and almost into oblivion when the master-hand which framed them retired from the conduct of the affairs of the Ring, of which he had been, through good report or evil report, through sunshine as through storm, “the guide, philosopher, and friend”—nay, more, the disinterested and zealous champion and advocate. We allude to Vincent Dowling,Esq., who for more than thirty years editedBell’s Life in London, and to whom the hand which writesthese lines is proud to own that that teacher was the Gamaliel at whose feet he sat to learn the now forgotten and self-degraded principles of honour, courage, forbearance, and fair play embodied in and inculcated by the Art of Self-Defence. On this occasion the law survived the law-giver, and the most perfect order was maintained. On the former occasion Jones’s friends declared that their man lost the use of his left hand from an injury to his collar-bone in the tenth round, and moreover, that he was suffering from a disablement brought on by undue exertion, for which the application of leeches had been considered necessary only a day or two before the fight. If, they argued, Jones could under these drawbacks, prolong the fight for two hours and twenty-four minutes, to the 121st round, the chances were now in his favour. Besides, Jones, on a recent occasion (at Jem Ward’s benefit) had so unmistakably “bested” Master Tom, flooring him in masterly style, that his friends were “legion” for this second trial. For some time after the signature of articles both men remained in town, but at length Aaron betook himself to Shrewsbury, where he remained until a fortnight before the fight, when he came up to London, and took up his quarters at Sutton, in Surrey, under the surveillance of Bob Fuller, who, “it goes without saying,” did all that could be done to bring him “fit to the post.” Paddock went to the neighbourhood of Leatherhead, where, by strong exercise on the breezy downs, he did all that could be done to bring his “pipes” and muscle into the primest order. We saw him both at the Epsom and Ascot meetings, to each of which he came on “Shanks’s mare” and certainly looked in “wind and limb,” eye, skin, and general complexion, up to anything. On the Monday previous both men showed at the Rotunda, Blackfriars Road, at the gathering for the benefit of the Pugilistic Benevolent Association, and of course received the congratulations of the crowd.
The “special” was chartered on this occasion by Dan Dismore, Hayes, Mr. Jackson, and Paddock’s backer. On our arrival at the terminus we met an immense assemblage of curious folks, who unable to be present at the fight were anxious to get a peep at the men. On the platform was a goodly concourse, noblemen and soldiers, Corinthians and clergy (at any rate, we noticed the “Bishop of Bond Street,” carefully superintending the safe deposit of sundry Fortnum-and-Mason-looking baskets and hampers in the guard’s van), sporting pubs, country-cousins, pugilists, and many well-breeched plebeians. At a few minutes past eight o’clock, both men with their immediate attendants were comfortably seated, and at half-pasteight the whistle sounded and away we steamed. The well-known stations on the Eastern Counties were quickly passed, and, with the exception of one stoppage for a “drink” for the iron horse, we had covered nearly eighty miles from Shoreditch before we put on the brakes, and pulled up near Mildenhall, in the county of Suffolk. Here an excellent piece of ground had been selected, and a first-rate inner-and-outer-ring were quickly marked out by Tom Oliver, Tom Callas, and assistants. A brisk trade in tickets for the outer enclosure showed a receipt of £33 10s., a very fair contribution to the funds of the P.B.A. The heat, as the men stripped for the encounter, was intense, and by an amicable agreement the usual toss for corners was dispensed with, and the men “placed across the sun;” thus neither had the disadvantage of advancing to the scratch with the rays of that dazzling luminary in his face. At half-past twelve o’clock, the number of spectators numbering a little over a thousand, Jones threw in his cap, attended by Bob Fuller and Bill Hayes, the latter, who was in ill-health, resigning his position soon afterwards to Jerry Noon. Paddock soon followed, Alec Keene and Jemmy Massey acting as his assistants. Paddock, after shaking hands, offered £25 in crisp bank notes to Aaron, on condition of a deposit of £20 on the part of the latter, but Jones declined the wager. The odds round the ring were now at this figure—5 to 4 on Paddock. Jemmy Massey, however, offering “3 to 2, rather than not get on,” had his £15 taken against £10, and the market-price went back again.
As the men stood up Paddock looked red, hard, and, contrary to former exhibitions, sinewy and comparatively lean, with a look of wear and tear about him that spoke well for his attention to training. Jones was fine, symmetrical, and a model for a statuary; but though he smiled and looked healthy and confident, we could not bring ourselves to think he could last out a day’s work with the Redditch man. At six minutes to one the seconds retired and business began.
THE FIGHT.Round 1.—Paddock was evidently not disposed to make a waiting race; he approached his man with an ominous smile, and at once launched forth his left, which was prettily stopped. He tried it a second time, but Jones was away. Tom would not be denied, but dashed resolutely in, and caught Jones heavily on the mouth with his left. Jones turned half round and went down, bleeding from the lips. (First bloodfor Paddock. First knock-down blow was also claimed, but not allowed by the referee, who considered that Jones was a consenting party to his own downfall.)2.—Paddock again tried his left, catching Aaron a second time on the mouth. This led to some heavy exchanges, in which Paddock got it on the left cheek heavily, and Jones in the mouth. Paddock in the end slipped down.3.—The men at once got within distance, and heavy counter-hits left and right were exchanged, Jones with the latter hand catching Tom another spank on the leftcheek, and receiving on the left peeper and ribs. A close followed, in which both were down, Jones under.4.—Paddock came up smiling, when Jones let go his left heavily on Paddock’s larboard optic, and his right on his nose—a very heavy hit, which produced a good supply of red currant juice, and both fell.5.—Paddock dashed in, but was met with another smasher on the snout. He retaliated on Aaron’s left eye, inflicting a cut on the brow, and drawing a fresh tap. He made his left again on Aaron’s cheek, which led to heavy exchanges, left and right, both getting it on the left side of the nut, and Paddock at the close fell on his south pole.6.—Jones came up with his left peeper in mourning; Paddock’s sinister visual organ had on a similar suit. Paddock determinedly rattled in and tickled Aaron on the left side of his occiput. He tried a second dose, but napped an ugly right-hander on the left eyebrow, which was cut, and the ruby at once responded to the call. Heavy exchanges without an attempt to stop followed, and both were down, Paddock under.7.—Both showed serious marks of punishment, but neither said “nay.” Some heavy rambling exchanges took place, and Jones slipped down.8.—No ceremony on either side, but ding-dong was the order of the day. The exchanges were in favour of Paddock, who paid some heavy to visitations Aaron’s left peeper. In the close both were down.9.—Jones attempted to lead off, but Paddock got cleverly away; Jones followed him up, and some tremendous exchanges took place, Jones in the end knocking Paddock off his legs by a tremendous crack from his right on the jaw. (First knock-down blow for Jones.)10.—Paddock looked serious—he was evidently shaken by the hit in the last round. Jones, however, instead of going to work, waited for him. Paddock quickly recovered, and just touched Aaron on the proboscis; this brought on a rally, in which little mischief was done, and Jones got down.11.—Paddock took the lead, planted a left-hander on Jones’s left daylight; Jones retaliated by a right-hander on the same spot, and then a second edition of the same, and in getting back fell on the ropes; he was not down, and Paddock might with fairness have struck him, but, with a manly feeling, for which he is entitled to much credit, walked to his own corner amidst cheers from both sides.12.—This was a tremendous fighting round. It commenced with some heavy exchanges left and right, Paddock reaching Aaron’s left eye, and the latter pounding Tom on the smeller. A break away, followed by some severe counter-hits in favour of Jones, who again drew Tom’s cork, brought them to a close, in which both were down. Paddock distilling the ruby from his nose and left eye, and Jones from the nozzle. (The facetious Jerry Noon remarked that it was “Chelsea Hospital to a sentry-box” on Jones.)13.—Jones led off, caught Tom another nasty one on the side of his knowledge-box, and Tom, astonished at its suddenness, dropped.14.—Paddock tried his left, which was neatly stopped. Again did he make the attempt with a like result, but Jones with quickness planted his right on the damaged left eye with effect, and Paddock fell, Jones on him.15.—Tom came up with his left shutter nearly closed, and the cheek on the same side as big as a pumpkin. He attempted to lead off, but was again well stopped. He would persevere, and got home on Jones’s left ogle. Jones countered heavily on the same point, and Paddock again got down, Jones on him.16.—Jones rushed at his man, who in retreating fell.17.—Paddock led off, but missed. Tremendous counter-hits followed, Paddock getting it on the side of his nut from Jones’s right, and Jones being knocked off his legs by a heavy visitation on his left cheek, which inflicted a severe cut and spilled more of the vital fluid.18.—Paddock again missed a well-intended left hander, and, after a few scrambling exchanges, Jones fell weak. He had evidently not recovered the terrific hit in the last round.19.—Paddock let go his left, which caught Jones on the damaged chop, but not heavily. Jones returned on the left eye, and Paddock dropped laughing.20.—Paddock went to his man, who let go his left on the side of his head, and Paddock fell. He jumped up to renew the round, when Jones at once went to work, pegged away left and right, drawing some more claret from the left eye. Paddock returned on the left cheek, but in the end was knocked through the ropes, Jones falling weak from his own exertions.21.—Paddock’s lead was again stopped, and Jones again propped him on the left cheek. Paddock dropped, and once more jumped up to renew the round, but Jones’s seconds forced him away to his owner.22.—Jones, slightly recovered from his weakness, went to work, and some tremendous counter-hits were exchanged, Paddock on the left eye, and Jones on the smelling bottle. Paddock now shoved in his right heavily on Jones’s ribs, and dropped, amidst cries of “Foul.” No appeal, however, was made, and the affair passed off.23.—Paddock came up with his left ocular completely closed, the opposite cheek being swollen as if from sympathy. Jones’s left eye was also barely open. Paddock wentresolutely to work with both hands, Jones retaliating, and in the end Jones fell.24.—Paddock took the lead by another essay upon Jones’s head, which staggered him. Paddock at once closed, threw, and fell on him.25.—Slight changes to a close, in which a little mutual fibbing took place. In the end both down, Paddock under, but still much the fresher man.26.—Jones attempted to open the pleadings, but Paddock stepped back, jobbing him on the snuffbox as he came in. Slogging exchanges now took place, in favour of Jones, who caught Paddock a tremendous right hander behind the left ear, which cut that organ severely, and opened a new crimson conduit. The men closed and fell together, Jones under.27.—Paddock, although bleeding from the left ear and eye, came up merrily, and led off with the left on Aaron’s os frontis. Jones returned with a heavy right hander on Tom’s darkened peeper, and again knocked him off his pins.28.—Paddock, who was very slow to the call of time, came up weak. Jones led off, with his right on the nose, but had not devil enough to let it go with a will. Paddock retreated until he had shaken off the effects of the knock-down in the last round, and then caught Jones heavily on the body. Jones returned on the mouth with effect, the blow turning Paddock half round. Paddock at once walked to his corner and sat down—an example followed by Jones. This hit was very severe, and many persons thought Paddock would not come many more rounds.29.—Paddock tried to lead off, but was stopped. Jones then planted his left slightly on the right cheek, and Paddock got down.30.—Jones went to work, but without force, and after some slight exchanges, both fell on their knees exhausted. The intense heat must have been indeed distressing to both.31.—Slight exchanges, in which little mischief was done, and Paddock again down.32.—Both attempted to deliver, and both missed their mark. Slight exchanges, each on the left side of the nut, and both down fatigued.33.—Jones essayed a lead, which was neatly stopped. He then dashed in, and after a scrambling rally both fell over the ropes.34.—Paddock’s head presented an unique specimen of Aaron’s handiwork. The left cheek was swollen as big as a cocoa-nut, and his eye was all but covered up. With the other optic he glared furiously upon his opponent, and rushing at him, delivered his left on the cheek. Jones returned slightly on the body, and Tom dropped.35.—Paddock stopped Aaron’s left. Paddock returned twice heavily on the ribs with his right, leaving visible impression of his knuckles, and then dropped without a return, amidst the hisses of the Aaronites.36.—Paddock’s left well stopped. A tremendous ding-dong rally then took place, in which Paddock got it on the left eye and cheek, and Jones on the ribs. In the end both down.37.—Paddock’s left again stopped, and Jones returned on the side of the wig-block. Paddock then popped in his left with effect on the mouth, and after some more exchanges Paddock got down. He looked round anxiously at Jones, as he was being carried to his corner, and evidently wished his work was done.38.—Paddock made his right heavily on Jones’s body, and then his left on the side of his head. Both now pegged away with determination, and in a most unflinching way, as if they had received fresh vigour. The hitting, however, was in favour of Paddock, and in the end Jones fell weak. It had evidently been an expiring effort on his part to get a decided lead, and having failed it was now patent to all that his defeat was a mere question of time.39.—Paddock let go his left on the side of Aaron’s cheek, which led to some severe counter-hits. They then closed, and Paddock pegged away with his right at the ribs until both were down.40.—Some slight exchanges, without mischief, and Jones down.41.—Paddock came up with an awful grin; his single open peeper glaring in a most ludicrous manner. He tried to lead off, but napped it on the smeller and left ear, from which the main was again tuned on. Paddock then made his right on the ribs, and Jones dropped.42.—Paddock again effected a heavy right-handed delivery on the ribs, and after slight exchanges both were down.43.—Slight exchanges, in which neither was effective, and in a scramble they fell. Paddock under.44.—Jones attempted to lead off, but was easily stopped; Paddock returning heavily on his left eye, and then on the body, again screwed his courage to the sticking-place, and a second with his right and got down.45.—Paddock led off, but was short. In another attempt he reached Aaron’s damaged bread-basket, and dropped à la Bendigo. He jumped up to renew the fight, when Jones nailed him on the left side of his brain-pan, and Tom finally dropped to end this round.46.—Jones tried to lead, but was very slow, and easily stopped. Paddock again reached his ribs with his right, and a sharpish rally ended in their failing together at the ropes.47.—Paddock’s left was out of distance; he tried his right at the body but missed, and Jones dashing in, caught him on the right cheek slightly, and fell on his face.48.—Counter-hits with the left, Paddock catching Jones very heavily on the left temple, and dropping him as if shot.49.—Jones, very slow to the call of time, at length came up wildly. He staggered in to close, and they fell, Jones under.50.—Jones, alter a futile attempt to punish, fell weak.51.—Slight exchanges, but no mischief, and both down.52.—Wild, swinging hits which did not get home. Paddock then planted his right heavily on the ribs, and again got down, amidst loud hisses. There was no appeal to the referee, and the fight proceeded.53.—Paddock let go his left on the mouth; slight exchanges followed, and they then fell on their backs. Both were much exhausted, but Paddock was the stronger on his pins.54.—After slight exchanges, Paddock again made his right at the ribs, and got down.55.—Paddock led off, but was stopped. They then got close, and some slight fibbing ended in Jones seeking Mother Earth. Paddock stood looking at him, as much as to say, “Why don’t you cut it?” until he was carried to his corner.56.—Jones attempted to lead off, but Paddock countered him heavily on the cheek, and he fell, amidst cries of “Take him away.”57.—Jones, although slow to time, came up steadily, and succeeded in putting in a little one “on the place where Tom’s eye ought to be,” and having received in return on the proboscis, he fell on his latter end.58.—Paddock rushed in to finish, but Jones, to the surprise of all, stopped him, and some heavy counter-hits took place. Paddock getting another crack on his disfigured nob, and hitting Jones down by a spank on the dice-box.59.—Paddock planted his left on Jones’s kissing-organ heavily, opening a fresh tap, and Aaron again dropped. For two more rounds did Jones stagger up to the scratch, but it was only to receive—all the steel was out of him—he was extremely weak on his legs, one eye was closed, and the other following suit; his nose, mouth, and ribs were severely damaged, while Paddock—although tremendously disfigured about the title-page—had still a little “go” left in his trotters. Every one begged of Jones or his seconds on his behalf to give in, but the gallant fellow persevered against hope until the close of the 61st round, when getting another heavy crack on the mouth, he fell, almost senseless, and his seconds threw up the sponge in token of defeat, at the end of one hour and twenty-nine minutes. Poor Aaron, who had done all he could do to turn the tide in his favour, was much mortified by this second defeat at the hands of Paddock, and cried like a child. He could scarcely walk on leaving the ring, and was obliged to lie down on an adjacent bank for some time before he could be removed to the station. Paddock was no great shakes, and was evidently much delighted that his task was at an end. He went into the ring with a full conviction that he should not gain a bloodless victory, and that he should get his brain-pan pretty well knocked about, but we question whether even he, confident as he was, anticipated that it would be quite so “hot” as it turned out.Remarks.—Every one who witnessed the above battle will cordially agree with us that it was a determined, manly struggle for pre-eminence throughout. It clearly demonstrated to our mind, however, the fact that Jones does not possess sufficient physique to enable him to contend successfully against such a hardy bit of stuff as Tom Paddock. True, he is a harder hitter than Paddock, but then, after a time, unless a man has a frame of iron, this gift is materially diminished by the constant jar; and a determined adversary, with such a granite nob as Tom Paddock, capable of receiving almost any amount of punishment, is almost certain to last longest at mere give-and-take fighting, as was fully proved on Tuesday. Jones, notwithstanding he had received hints from the most accomplished boxer of the day, Jem Ward, still persevered in his old system of hitting principally with his right-hand, a practice which, although it altered Paddock’s physiognomy in the most extraordinary manner on one side, still was not calculated, unattended as it was by much execution from his left, to reduce his opponent to a state of darkness. He punished Paddock more than that hero was ever punished before, and we believe that, did he possess more wear and tear, it would have been a much nearer thing than it was. He had for some time the best of the hitting, but, falling weak, the inequality was quickly removed by the determination of Paddock, who, seeing that he had his work to do, never gave Jones breathing time to collect his faculties.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—Paddock was evidently not disposed to make a waiting race; he approached his man with an ominous smile, and at once launched forth his left, which was prettily stopped. He tried it a second time, but Jones was away. Tom would not be denied, but dashed resolutely in, and caught Jones heavily on the mouth with his left. Jones turned half round and went down, bleeding from the lips. (First bloodfor Paddock. First knock-down blow was also claimed, but not allowed by the referee, who considered that Jones was a consenting party to his own downfall.)
2.—Paddock again tried his left, catching Aaron a second time on the mouth. This led to some heavy exchanges, in which Paddock got it on the left cheek heavily, and Jones in the mouth. Paddock in the end slipped down.
3.—The men at once got within distance, and heavy counter-hits left and right were exchanged, Jones with the latter hand catching Tom another spank on the leftcheek, and receiving on the left peeper and ribs. A close followed, in which both were down, Jones under.
4.—Paddock came up smiling, when Jones let go his left heavily on Paddock’s larboard optic, and his right on his nose—a very heavy hit, which produced a good supply of red currant juice, and both fell.
5.—Paddock dashed in, but was met with another smasher on the snout. He retaliated on Aaron’s left eye, inflicting a cut on the brow, and drawing a fresh tap. He made his left again on Aaron’s cheek, which led to heavy exchanges, left and right, both getting it on the left side of the nut, and Paddock at the close fell on his south pole.
6.—Jones came up with his left peeper in mourning; Paddock’s sinister visual organ had on a similar suit. Paddock determinedly rattled in and tickled Aaron on the left side of his occiput. He tried a second dose, but napped an ugly right-hander on the left eyebrow, which was cut, and the ruby at once responded to the call. Heavy exchanges without an attempt to stop followed, and both were down, Paddock under.
7.—Both showed serious marks of punishment, but neither said “nay.” Some heavy rambling exchanges took place, and Jones slipped down.
8.—No ceremony on either side, but ding-dong was the order of the day. The exchanges were in favour of Paddock, who paid some heavy to visitations Aaron’s left peeper. In the close both were down.
9.—Jones attempted to lead off, but Paddock got cleverly away; Jones followed him up, and some tremendous exchanges took place, Jones in the end knocking Paddock off his legs by a tremendous crack from his right on the jaw. (First knock-down blow for Jones.)
10.—Paddock looked serious—he was evidently shaken by the hit in the last round. Jones, however, instead of going to work, waited for him. Paddock quickly recovered, and just touched Aaron on the proboscis; this brought on a rally, in which little mischief was done, and Jones got down.
11.—Paddock took the lead, planted a left-hander on Jones’s left daylight; Jones retaliated by a right-hander on the same spot, and then a second edition of the same, and in getting back fell on the ropes; he was not down, and Paddock might with fairness have struck him, but, with a manly feeling, for which he is entitled to much credit, walked to his own corner amidst cheers from both sides.
12.—This was a tremendous fighting round. It commenced with some heavy exchanges left and right, Paddock reaching Aaron’s left eye, and the latter pounding Tom on the smeller. A break away, followed by some severe counter-hits in favour of Jones, who again drew Tom’s cork, brought them to a close, in which both were down. Paddock distilling the ruby from his nose and left eye, and Jones from the nozzle. (The facetious Jerry Noon remarked that it was “Chelsea Hospital to a sentry-box” on Jones.)
13.—Jones led off, caught Tom another nasty one on the side of his knowledge-box, and Tom, astonished at its suddenness, dropped.
14.—Paddock tried his left, which was neatly stopped. Again did he make the attempt with a like result, but Jones with quickness planted his right on the damaged left eye with effect, and Paddock fell, Jones on him.
15.—Tom came up with his left shutter nearly closed, and the cheek on the same side as big as a pumpkin. He attempted to lead off, but was again well stopped. He would persevere, and got home on Jones’s left ogle. Jones countered heavily on the same point, and Paddock again got down, Jones on him.
16.—Jones rushed at his man, who in retreating fell.
17.—Paddock led off, but missed. Tremendous counter-hits followed, Paddock getting it on the side of his nut from Jones’s right, and Jones being knocked off his legs by a heavy visitation on his left cheek, which inflicted a severe cut and spilled more of the vital fluid.
18.—Paddock again missed a well-intended left hander, and, after a few scrambling exchanges, Jones fell weak. He had evidently not recovered the terrific hit in the last round.
19.—Paddock let go his left, which caught Jones on the damaged chop, but not heavily. Jones returned on the left eye, and Paddock dropped laughing.
20.—Paddock went to his man, who let go his left on the side of his head, and Paddock fell. He jumped up to renew the round, when Jones at once went to work, pegged away left and right, drawing some more claret from the left eye. Paddock returned on the left cheek, but in the end was knocked through the ropes, Jones falling weak from his own exertions.
21.—Paddock’s lead was again stopped, and Jones again propped him on the left cheek. Paddock dropped, and once more jumped up to renew the round, but Jones’s seconds forced him away to his owner.
22.—Jones, slightly recovered from his weakness, went to work, and some tremendous counter-hits were exchanged, Paddock on the left eye, and Jones on the smelling bottle. Paddock now shoved in his right heavily on Jones’s ribs, and dropped, amidst cries of “Foul.” No appeal, however, was made, and the affair passed off.
23.—Paddock came up with his left ocular completely closed, the opposite cheek being swollen as if from sympathy. Jones’s left eye was also barely open. Paddock wentresolutely to work with both hands, Jones retaliating, and in the end Jones fell.
24.—Paddock took the lead by another essay upon Jones’s head, which staggered him. Paddock at once closed, threw, and fell on him.
25.—Slight changes to a close, in which a little mutual fibbing took place. In the end both down, Paddock under, but still much the fresher man.
26.—Jones attempted to open the pleadings, but Paddock stepped back, jobbing him on the snuffbox as he came in. Slogging exchanges now took place, in favour of Jones, who caught Paddock a tremendous right hander behind the left ear, which cut that organ severely, and opened a new crimson conduit. The men closed and fell together, Jones under.
27.—Paddock, although bleeding from the left ear and eye, came up merrily, and led off with the left on Aaron’s os frontis. Jones returned with a heavy right hander on Tom’s darkened peeper, and again knocked him off his pins.
28.—Paddock, who was very slow to the call of time, came up weak. Jones led off, with his right on the nose, but had not devil enough to let it go with a will. Paddock retreated until he had shaken off the effects of the knock-down in the last round, and then caught Jones heavily on the body. Jones returned on the mouth with effect, the blow turning Paddock half round. Paddock at once walked to his corner and sat down—an example followed by Jones. This hit was very severe, and many persons thought Paddock would not come many more rounds.
29.—Paddock tried to lead off, but was stopped. Jones then planted his left slightly on the right cheek, and Paddock got down.
30.—Jones went to work, but without force, and after some slight exchanges, both fell on their knees exhausted. The intense heat must have been indeed distressing to both.
31.—Slight exchanges, in which little mischief was done, and Paddock again down.
32.—Both attempted to deliver, and both missed their mark. Slight exchanges, each on the left side of the nut, and both down fatigued.
33.—Jones essayed a lead, which was neatly stopped. He then dashed in, and after a scrambling rally both fell over the ropes.
34.—Paddock’s head presented an unique specimen of Aaron’s handiwork. The left cheek was swollen as big as a cocoa-nut, and his eye was all but covered up. With the other optic he glared furiously upon his opponent, and rushing at him, delivered his left on the cheek. Jones returned slightly on the body, and Tom dropped.
35.—Paddock stopped Aaron’s left. Paddock returned twice heavily on the ribs with his right, leaving visible impression of his knuckles, and then dropped without a return, amidst the hisses of the Aaronites.
36.—Paddock’s left well stopped. A tremendous ding-dong rally then took place, in which Paddock got it on the left eye and cheek, and Jones on the ribs. In the end both down.
37.—Paddock’s left again stopped, and Jones returned on the side of the wig-block. Paddock then popped in his left with effect on the mouth, and after some more exchanges Paddock got down. He looked round anxiously at Jones, as he was being carried to his corner, and evidently wished his work was done.
38.—Paddock made his right heavily on Jones’s body, and then his left on the side of his head. Both now pegged away with determination, and in a most unflinching way, as if they had received fresh vigour. The hitting, however, was in favour of Paddock, and in the end Jones fell weak. It had evidently been an expiring effort on his part to get a decided lead, and having failed it was now patent to all that his defeat was a mere question of time.
39.—Paddock let go his left on the side of Aaron’s cheek, which led to some severe counter-hits. They then closed, and Paddock pegged away with his right at the ribs until both were down.
40.—Some slight exchanges, without mischief, and Jones down.
41.—Paddock came up with an awful grin; his single open peeper glaring in a most ludicrous manner. He tried to lead off, but napped it on the smeller and left ear, from which the main was again tuned on. Paddock then made his right on the ribs, and Jones dropped.
42.—Paddock again effected a heavy right-handed delivery on the ribs, and after slight exchanges both were down.
43.—Slight exchanges, in which neither was effective, and in a scramble they fell. Paddock under.
44.—Jones attempted to lead off, but was easily stopped; Paddock returning heavily on his left eye, and then on the body, again screwed his courage to the sticking-place, and a second with his right and got down.
45.—Paddock led off, but was short. In another attempt he reached Aaron’s damaged bread-basket, and dropped à la Bendigo. He jumped up to renew the fight, when Jones nailed him on the left side of his brain-pan, and Tom finally dropped to end this round.
46.—Jones tried to lead, but was very slow, and easily stopped. Paddock again reached his ribs with his right, and a sharpish rally ended in their failing together at the ropes.
47.—Paddock’s left was out of distance; he tried his right at the body but missed, and Jones dashing in, caught him on the right cheek slightly, and fell on his face.
48.—Counter-hits with the left, Paddock catching Jones very heavily on the left temple, and dropping him as if shot.
49.—Jones, very slow to the call of time, at length came up wildly. He staggered in to close, and they fell, Jones under.
50.—Jones, alter a futile attempt to punish, fell weak.
51.—Slight exchanges, but no mischief, and both down.
52.—Wild, swinging hits which did not get home. Paddock then planted his right heavily on the ribs, and again got down, amidst loud hisses. There was no appeal to the referee, and the fight proceeded.
53.—Paddock let go his left on the mouth; slight exchanges followed, and they then fell on their backs. Both were much exhausted, but Paddock was the stronger on his pins.
54.—After slight exchanges, Paddock again made his right at the ribs, and got down.
55.—Paddock led off, but was stopped. They then got close, and some slight fibbing ended in Jones seeking Mother Earth. Paddock stood looking at him, as much as to say, “Why don’t you cut it?” until he was carried to his corner.
56.—Jones attempted to lead off, but Paddock countered him heavily on the cheek, and he fell, amidst cries of “Take him away.”
57.—Jones, although slow to time, came up steadily, and succeeded in putting in a little one “on the place where Tom’s eye ought to be,” and having received in return on the proboscis, he fell on his latter end.
58.—Paddock rushed in to finish, but Jones, to the surprise of all, stopped him, and some heavy counter-hits took place. Paddock getting another crack on his disfigured nob, and hitting Jones down by a spank on the dice-box.
59.—Paddock planted his left on Jones’s kissing-organ heavily, opening a fresh tap, and Aaron again dropped. For two more rounds did Jones stagger up to the scratch, but it was only to receive—all the steel was out of him—he was extremely weak on his legs, one eye was closed, and the other following suit; his nose, mouth, and ribs were severely damaged, while Paddock—although tremendously disfigured about the title-page—had still a little “go” left in his trotters. Every one begged of Jones or his seconds on his behalf to give in, but the gallant fellow persevered against hope until the close of the 61st round, when getting another heavy crack on the mouth, he fell, almost senseless, and his seconds threw up the sponge in token of defeat, at the end of one hour and twenty-nine minutes. Poor Aaron, who had done all he could do to turn the tide in his favour, was much mortified by this second defeat at the hands of Paddock, and cried like a child. He could scarcely walk on leaving the ring, and was obliged to lie down on an adjacent bank for some time before he could be removed to the station. Paddock was no great shakes, and was evidently much delighted that his task was at an end. He went into the ring with a full conviction that he should not gain a bloodless victory, and that he should get his brain-pan pretty well knocked about, but we question whether even he, confident as he was, anticipated that it would be quite so “hot” as it turned out.
Remarks.—Every one who witnessed the above battle will cordially agree with us that it was a determined, manly struggle for pre-eminence throughout. It clearly demonstrated to our mind, however, the fact that Jones does not possess sufficient physique to enable him to contend successfully against such a hardy bit of stuff as Tom Paddock. True, he is a harder hitter than Paddock, but then, after a time, unless a man has a frame of iron, this gift is materially diminished by the constant jar; and a determined adversary, with such a granite nob as Tom Paddock, capable of receiving almost any amount of punishment, is almost certain to last longest at mere give-and-take fighting, as was fully proved on Tuesday. Jones, notwithstanding he had received hints from the most accomplished boxer of the day, Jem Ward, still persevered in his old system of hitting principally with his right-hand, a practice which, although it altered Paddock’s physiognomy in the most extraordinary manner on one side, still was not calculated, unattended as it was by much execution from his left, to reduce his opponent to a state of darkness. He punished Paddock more than that hero was ever punished before, and we believe that, did he possess more wear and tear, it would have been a much nearer thing than it was. He had for some time the best of the hitting, but, falling weak, the inequality was quickly removed by the determination of Paddock, who, seeing that he had his work to do, never gave Jones breathing time to collect his faculties.
The Old Tipton being matched with Aaron Jones, and Harry Broome being supposed to have retired from pugilism to publicanism, Tom was standing idle in the market-place, when on the 2nd of December he was enlivened by reading the following in the Ring column ofBell, under the heading of “Who is to have the Belt?” A new one having been justput into the hands of a fashionable goldsmith from the proceeds of a public subscription:
“Mr. Editor,—It was my intention never to have entered the roped arena again, but the persuasions of my old friends and backers have determined me to pull off my shirt once more. I now come forward for the satisfaction of the public and the Prize Ring, in order to determine who’s the better man, Tom Paddock or myself. I will fight him for £200 a side for the Champion’s Belt, which I feel I am entitled to, for both the Tipton Slasher and Aaron Jones have been beaten by me or by men that I have beaten, and therefore I claim it, and shall do so until fairly beaten in a roped ring, as a trophy of that description ought to be contested for man to man, and never obtained upon a mere challenge. To prove that I mean to carry out what I state, I will meet Paddock at your office on Wednesday, Dec. 12, to sign articles, to which the following condition must be attached:—The money not, under any circumstances, to be parted with untilfairly won or lostin a 24 feet roped ring. Should this not suit Paddock (not that I wish to interfere with the match between the Tipton Slasher and Aaron Jones) I will fight Aaron Jones for £200 a side, whether he wins or loses with the Tipton Slasher. By inserting this, you will oblige.—Yours, &c.,“HENRY BROOME.”“Bell’s Life” Tavern, Strand,November 28, 1855.
“Mr. Editor,—It was my intention never to have entered the roped arena again, but the persuasions of my old friends and backers have determined me to pull off my shirt once more. I now come forward for the satisfaction of the public and the Prize Ring, in order to determine who’s the better man, Tom Paddock or myself. I will fight him for £200 a side for the Champion’s Belt, which I feel I am entitled to, for both the Tipton Slasher and Aaron Jones have been beaten by me or by men that I have beaten, and therefore I claim it, and shall do so until fairly beaten in a roped ring, as a trophy of that description ought to be contested for man to man, and never obtained upon a mere challenge. To prove that I mean to carry out what I state, I will meet Paddock at your office on Wednesday, Dec. 12, to sign articles, to which the following condition must be attached:—The money not, under any circumstances, to be parted with untilfairly won or lostin a 24 feet roped ring. Should this not suit Paddock (not that I wish to interfere with the match between the Tipton Slasher and Aaron Jones) I will fight Aaron Jones for £200 a side, whether he wins or loses with the Tipton Slasher. By inserting this, you will oblige.—Yours, &c.,
“HENRY BROOME.”
“Bell’s Life” Tavern, Strand,November 28, 1855.
Paddock lost no time in calling on the stakeholder, and leaving £10 early in the next week, under condition that if he could not raise £200, they should meet for £100. Broome did not flinch, and, after two more “conditional” deposits, articles were signed in the editorial sanctum ofBell’s Life, by which Thomas Paddock and Henry Broome mutually bound themselves to fight for £200 a side, on Monday, May 19th, 1856, within 100 and over 50 miles from London. The anxiety in boxing circles, as the day drew near and all was found progressing smoothly to the desired issue, became intense; and Alec Keene’s “Three Tuns,” in Moor Street, whence Paddock was backed, and Harry’s own house, the newly named “Bell’s Life” Tavern (now the “Norfolk Arms”), in the Strand, were crowded with curious inquirers as to how the men went on, and for “the straight tip.” On the day previous both champions showed, and the distribution of colours—a blue with white spot for Broome, and a blue with a white check for Paddock—on the usual terms of a guinea or “nothing,” was extensive. Paddock was closely scrutinised by both friends and foes, each equally anxious to ascertain whether time or previous contests had impaired his freshness or vigour; but no traces of deterioration were there, and those who felt his muscle declared their belief that he was never in finer trim.
Harry’s appearance, so far as his face was concerned, was that of perfect health, and the disappearance of the protuberance which had long been visible under his waistcoat was remarkable. These signs of careful training, with the prestige of his name, carried the odds to 6 and 7 to 4 in his favour. We knew that he worked hard and was most creditably abstemious; but we feared, as the sequel proved, that he was unable to train efficiently,and that strength was lost in the great reduction of weight to which he had been subjected.
It had been the original intention of the backers of the men to have given the inhabitants of Kent and Sussex the opportunity of a view of this encounter; but it proved, upon inquiry, that it was impossible to obtain a “special” on those lines, as some saints in the directorate of the companies had issued an ukase against such “excursions” as were not to their own taste or under their own patronage. Recourse was, therefore, had to the Eastern Counties, where the necessary facilities for an excursion of “Odd Fellows” was applied for and granted. It was suggested to the “managers” of the “outing”—Alec Keene, Fred Broome, and Dan Dismore—that any invasion of the territory of Cambridge, Huntingdon, or the country round Mildenhall or Brandon, would inevitably be resisted; so these worthies, after consultation with experienced strategists, deemed it prudent to abandon the old and beaten track, and strike out a new plan of campaign. The company’s agent was, therefore, apprised that the excursionists wished to pass through Suffolk into Norfolk, by the Eastern Union Line, as their place of reunion would be a few miles beyond Ipswich. The officials made their arrangements accordingly, and on our arrival at the Shoreditch terminus, at eight o’clock on Monday morning, we found that no pains had been spared to prevent anything like crushing or disorder at the doors. The neighbourhood of the station was, as usual, crowded with anxious spectators, who hoped to get a view of the principals in the forthcoming duel; but, so far as Broome was concerned, they were disappointed, as he had proceeded at an early hour to Stratford, where it was arranged the train should stop and pick him up. Paddock, however, accompanied by Jemmy Massey and Alec Keene, was early at the starting-place, and was eagerly greeted by the multitude. From the heavy tariff which had been determined on, we fully expected to find the company not only very select, but far from numerous, and we anticipated that the original number of carriages ordered would have been found sufficient; but such was the rush of the public, that, long before the hour of starting, every carriage was filled, and chiefly by respectable persons. It was soon perceptible that a considerable addition to the conveyances was required, and no less than seven extra carriages were added, all of which filled almost immediately; and, not only so, but very shortly after the special had started a sufficient number of gentlemen arrived at the station to charter another train of some four or five carriages, to follow that containing the belligerents. Amongthevoyageursby the first train were almost all the pugilists of note, and an immense number of Corinthians of every grade. In fact, a larger muster of the higher classes we have not seen on such an occasion for many years. There were one or two familiar faces missing, but there were quite sufficient new hands to make up for the deficiency. Among the company was an Indian prince of high rank, and his suite, anxious to obtain a glimpse of the peculiarly national spectacle, and we were delighted to hear that he was treated throughout with the greatest respect, and suffered not the slightest indignity from the thoughtless throng on account of his peculiar appearance or unaccustomed manners; a piece of good behaviour on the part of an unpoliced crowd that was a creditable example to those public gatherings which pretend to superior order and civility. The only complaint we heard on the way down was on the subject of the commissariat, the want of “belly-timber” being universally felt. It turned out that the absence of refreshment among the Corinthians was attributable to the pressure of a certain class at the doors of the station, who, unwilling to pay, and anxious to get a trip for nothing, besieged the doors at the latest moment, in the hope of taking the officials off their guard, and so making a rush for the platform. The formidable appearance of this phalanx induced the police of the line to close the doors and refuse admission to all. Unluckily, amongst the late arrivals, was Mr. Commissary Dismore, who, with his Land Transport Corps, well provided with everything necessary, arrived just too late. Dan himself contrived to get round by a private way on to the platform, but, alas! the “vital ammunition” was cut off. Thanks, however, to the second special, the provisions were brought down in time for the hungry and thirsty souls to refresh themselves after the mill, when due justice was done to Dan’s ample provision. The first special did not leave Shoreditch until a quarter past nine; it reached Stratford about half-past; and here Harry Broome and his friends were picked up. Harry’s mug looked hard and healthy, and about his mouth was a smile of confidence. The universal exclamation was, “How well he looks!” and the short glimpse obtained of him induced many persons to “open” at offers of 7 to 4 on him—offers which the friends of Paddock were not slow to accept. The train now sped on at a good pace to Chelmsford, where water was taken in, and we again set forward on our journey. At Manningtree, where a second refresher was necessary for the engine, an intimation was received that the “war hawks” were abroad, and that the Ipswich police had, through the indiscretionof some would-be-clever persons, who had gone on over night, obtained a scent of what was intended, and had telegraphed to the police at Diss, in Norfolk, and other places, to be on the look-out. This intimation arrived most opportunely, and it was at once resolved to put on the double, and to bring off the mill as close as possible to Ipswich, where it was least expected. The commander-in-chief mounted the engine, and, under his direction, a likely spot was selected, where the train was brought to a halt, and the assembled multitude, to the number of at least five hundred, dropped upon the field like a flight of crows. Several of the committee of the P.B.A. at once spread themselves about the field in skirmishing order to select the best spot, but while they were so engaged the Commissary and Callas had pitched upon a place which, although not the best, was still tolerably level, and the grass was not very long. Here no time was lost in getting up the fixings. It was uncertain how long the Ipswich “blues” would be hoodwinked, and, therefore, time was everything. A large outer-ring was formed simultaneously with the original circle, and round this the non-paying part of the community quickly ranged themselves. The business of selling inner-ring tickets proceeded briskly, and a sum of £47 was realised thereby, the surplus of which, after paying ring-keepers and the farmer on whose grounds the mill took place for damage to his grass, went to the funds of the Association. So great was the number of privilege ticket-holders that, on sitting down at some distance from the ring, they formed a double row almost the whole way round, and effectually proved their own barrier against the irruption of those who at all times are more free than welcome. It is true that several of the latter class, by some means, obtained access to Broome’s corner later on, where their vociferations were the reverse of agreeable; but, thanks to the exertions of Mike Madden, Bill Barry, and Fred Mason, they were effectually kept within bounds. At length, by a quarter to one, everything was in apple-pie order, and the signal being given, the men at once stepped into the arena; Harry Broome attended by Tass Parker and Tom Sayers, and Paddock under the surveillance of the accomplished Alec Keene and Jemmy Massey. They smiled and shook hands, Harry shaking his nut in a significant manner at Tom, as much as to say, “I’ve got you at last, old fellow.” The colours were now tied to the post, and while the men were preparing their toilet a good deal of betting took place. The first offer was £35 to £20 on Broome—a bet which was at once made and staked. 7 to 4 was then laid very freely, the business of booking and staking going onmost briskly. Massey now came forward and offered to take £20 to £10, but not being able to get a higher bid than £15 to £10, he closed, and this amount was staked, as was also a similar bet laid to Alec Keene. The layers now began to hang back, and £30 to £20 became the current odds, at which a good deal more business was done. A heavier amount of betting we never remember to have witnessed at the ring-side; and this tended, more than anything else, to show the intense interest the battle excited. At length, offers became more languid, and finally ceased altogether; and as we did not hear of a single bet after the mill commenced, we are inclined to think that the speculators had staked every farthing they brought with them. By one o’clock it was announced that both men were quite ready, and time being called they were led to the scratch, where, after the usual hands across, they were left, peeled to the buff, and their proportions and condition displayed to the curious gaze of the assembled throng.
Tom Paddock, as he stood at the scratch, looked every inch a gladiator. Each thew and sinew was perfectly developed, and seemed ready to burst the tightened skin. His broad shoulders and deep chest, covered with ponderous muscles, were the admiration of all; and the distinctness with which his lower ribs were visible proved that there was not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his wiry, powerful frame. His mug was hard and ruddy, and there was clearly little there to swell up should his dial come in too close propinquity to Harry’s sledge-hammers. He looked good-humoured, but determined, and evidently feeling the importance of the occasion, he toed the scratch with a determination to “do or die.” Widely different was the aspect presented by the once powerful Harry Broome. True it was that he had got rid of his superabundant belly, but in doing so it was apparent to all that he had also got rid of much of his muscle and sinew. When he fought Harry Orme he was certainly well covered with fat, but still underneath this coating the evidences of great power were plainly visible; but now, what a falling off was there! Barring the aforesaid protuberance, he was as fat as ever, but all appearances of sinewy strength had vanished. His breasts were soft and puffy, his arms round and smooth, while the flesh on his once fine back hung in collops; there was also a slight eruption on his pale skin, which betokened a feverish state of the blood, which would not have been guessed from the appearance of his face. He said he felt quite well, though not so strong as on former occasions. On inquiring of Joe Bostock, who had been with him while he finished his training at Bosham, near Chichester, we learned that he hadseveral times complained of weakness, and that the more he tried to get his fat off the more did it seem to accumulate. Harry himself informed us, and we are satisfied as to the truth of his statement, that he reduced himself upwards of 3st.in the course of his exercise, but he found himself getting so weak that he was compelled at last to be more gentle in his work; and he now declares his belief that had he gone into the ring in his ordinary state, without any preparation whatever, he would have been better and stronger than he was on Monday. With all his drawbacks, however, he was extremely confident as to the result of the battle, and advised his friends to back him at all hazards. He no doubt depended upon his science, and expected to set at defiance the well-known onslaughts of his opponent. We must now bring these preliminaries to a conclusion, and proceed to our account of