“The fight between James Mace and Thomas King is to take place on Tuesday next in the neighbourhood of Aldershot.”We hope the “tipster” who so egregiously sold the reverend editor, as to day and place, did not add dishonesty to his pious fraud. At any rate we fear, as we did not see him in his accustomed position, that our right reverend friend, “the Bishop of Bond Street,” may have been misled by ecclesiastical authority; we believe the police were—of course we were not.By four o’clock on Wednesday morning the approaches to Fenchurch Street were alive with intending excursionists, who on arriving at the station found the entrance crowded by a strong posse of roughs and thieves, always to be found at their posts on such occasions. These gentry had a good time of it, and so strong and daring were their forces, that the few ring keepers engaged to protect the public were completely overpowered, and, in many instances, eased of their own property. Bob Travers, among others, was attacked and forcibly deprived of all he had about him. Many lost their tickets, and many gentlemen were so intimidated that they declined facing the ordeal, and returned home. The scene was, on the whole, disgraceful. The managers of the undertaking were great sufferers, and were loud in their complaints that the conduct of these roughs prevented their reaping the harvest they had anticipated. Although the company commenced assembling at four o’clock, it was fully seven before there were any signs of a start, and the impatience of the early birds, although extreme, was fully justifiable. There was no help for it, however, as all was in the hands of the railway officials.Fortunately the ring forces when concentrated were strong enough to exclude most of the undesirables from the platform; still some few managed to penetrate the ranks of the officials, and by their presence caused considerable annoyance, although the force of ring keepers was sufficiently strong to prevent their attempting any combined mischief. At length at seven o’clock the whistle sounded, and we were off for the appointed spot,where two vessels were found in waiting, and on board these the travellers, nearly 300 in number, at once repaired. It was now suggested that it would be well to try and get the fight off on the spot, instead of going further afield, where the Bobbies might be in force. This recommendation was accepted with promptitude, and while the Corinthians were luxuriating in a hot and comfortable breakfast on board, provided in admirable style by their old caterer, Dan Pinxton, the ring was pitched, and soon after eight all was in readiness. Through the exertions of Billy Duncan and his pals such admirable arrangements were made for the comfort of the inner ring ticket-holders that all were seated without difficulty, and, so far as we could perceive, the whole thing was carried out in a manner to reflect the highest credit on all concerned. As soon as the office was given by Fred Oliver the men approached the magic circle; Mace being the first to drop his castor within the ropes. He was attended by his old opponents Bob Brettle and Bob Travers, while King, who was somewhat behindhand, was waited on by Bos Tyler and Macdonald. Both men were welcomed with loud cheers from their partisans, which each acknowledged in a suitable manner. There was a good deal of lively betting at 6 and 7 to 4 on Mace, and his backers, we believe, would have gone on to any extent at that figure. A brisk business was done by the sale of inner ring tickets, but by no means to the extent we have known on former occasions. The sum received was nearly £37. Among the spectators were Tom Sayers, Heenan, and many other fistic celebrities, who eyed the tourney throughout with curiosity. And now the men stand up, approach each other and grasp hands, then separate; the seconds retire to their corners, and all eyes are fixed upon them as they upraise their daddles, and square their elbows forTHE FIGHT.Round 1.—The moment so fraught with interest and excitement to the partisans of the belligerents had now arrived; the busy and careful work of the seconds was at last completed to their entire satisfaction, and the men were delivered at the scratch. While their toilettes were being arranged, the “making ready” had been eagerly watched by all with almost breathless silence. As Jem turned to face his opponent, he gave a momentary glance at the sky, whose dull, cheerless aspect was anything but calculated to enliven the combatants. Both advanced to the scratch with that firm, confident step which denotes the action of well-drilled practitioners. Perhaps the first thing that riveted the attention of the spectators, as the men stood front to front, was the striking difference in height that existed between them. It had been confidently stated Mace had never been in better condition; certainly as he stood thus confronting his antagonist there was nothing in his appearance that even the most fastidious could for a moment find fault with, and in all things he looked a far superior man to what he did at their former meeting. In weight Jem, when he last poised the beam, pulled down 11st.4lb., and with inward confidence beaming in his every look, he stated it was impossible for a man to feel better, and this assurance there can be nodoubt had great weight with his admirers, many of whom from over-caution had waited for this “opinion” from Mace himself before they had ventured to “put it on.” If condition of itself could alone endow a man with the requisite “resin” to tune the first fiddle in such a grand pugilistic overture, Tom might well put the thing down as a “certainty,” for it must be admitted he was all the most critical could desire, and spoke of the result with a confidence devoid of anything in the shape of braggadocia. The moment the men had been “set” by their seconds, there was perceptible that twitch and shrug of the shoulders which denote a disapproval of the morning air. Jem having put up the prop in proper order drew from range, and of his position it may be said the skill of the master was at a glance displayed, for he was well covered at all points. Tom also stood remarkably well, and although by some good judges he is stated to be a little too fine about the loins, and by no means deep set enough in the jaw and neck, yet we think it was conceded by all impartial persons that he looked a most formidable opponent. Mace, as he manœuvred, looked at his man with a sharp, penetrating glance, as though he was mentally summing up “the King’s affairs.” The result seemed satisfactory, for Jem gave one of his well-known jerks of his nob, as much as to say, “Tom, I intend to give you another dressing.” King smiled at his man, as to intimate, if he really imagined he was capable of dressing him again he would oblige by being quick about it, as there needed something in the shape of excitement to warm up the system. After a little sparring, Mace drew from range and dropped his mauleys, and then with his right rubbed his breast and arms. King imitated his action, as he felt numbed about the arms, and thought it necessary to do the burnishing to promote the circulation. Jem, with a cautions step, drew into range, and then by way of a feeler slightly let go the left, but Tom, who was decidedly quicker on his pins than we had found him in any of his preceding battles, got well away with the back step, thus showing that these efforts on the part of his opponent to draw out his guard were not likely to be successful. As Mace broke for the purpose of getting from distance, King dashed at him in a most impetuous manner, and missed administering a fine right-handed shot from the fore-arm. Mace, as Tom came on for the purpose of forcing the fighting, retreated, but just opposite the referee and umpire the men closed, when Jem, finding he was likely to get in an awkward position, ducked his head and went down, King looking at him. Both men were loudly cheered, and as there was just a shade of commotion among those who formed the uprights of the outer circle, Professor Duncan, attended by the “faculty,” promptly administered a mild dose of his efficacious remedy for disorder—the “syrup of whips”—and the cure was instantaneous.2.—At the call of “Time,” both men, with the eagerness of swimmers for the first plunge, rushed simultaneously from the knees of their seconds, and threw up their hands at the scratch. After toeing the mark each again drew back from range, and began rubbing himself, looking meanwhile at each other like two game-cocks. Mace then led with the left, but did not get it home, as King got well from range. Tom now dashed at his man, and delivered the left on the top of the head, and put in another from the fore-arm on the mouth, which had the effect of producing a slight show of the crimson. (“First blood,” as on the former occasion, for Tom.) Jem, after getting home slightly with the left and right on the face, closed with his man, when, finding he was likely to get into an awkward position, he slipped from him and got down, there being so far not much harm done on either side, King fighting with remarkable fairness; his opponent decidedly more crafty and shifty, though, as Jack Macdonald said, “We’ll give him all that in.”3.—Jem was the first from his corner, but no sooner did the busy seconds of King see that his antagonist was on the move than they gave the office, and with that impetuosity of action so characteristic of him, he at once advanced to the scratch. After shifting, changing position, and taking fresh ground, King went dashing at his man for the purpose of forcing the fighting, and, getting partly over Jem’s right cross-guard, planted the left on the right cheek, and with a wild, slinging round hit from the right also got home on the side of the knowledge box. Mace, in the counter-hitting, administered one with his stinging left on the jaw, when, as Tom was not to be kept out, they closed. In the struggle for the fall King got his right arm round his man, and they went down near the referee in a curious, awkward fall, Mace, who had his head bent down, hitting the top part of it against the ground. It was imagined by many at the moment that Jem might have received some severe harm, but they were soon convinced to the contrary, for when the men had become disentangled and Jem with his usual agility had righted, he looked up with a broad grin, as much as to say, “Don’t be uneasy, I’m all right.” There was in the excitement again a slight manifestation of pressure in “Court,” the “special jury” being the least bit inconvenienced, but Duncan, as head usher, brought up his efficient corps to point, and the weight of this legal element was on the instant sufficient to restore matters to their proper balance, and the business of this admirably kept ring went on as smoothly as ever.4.—While the combatants were in their corners every movement of their secondswas watched with the utmost minuteness, and it was a treat to observe in what fine order they sent them up to the mark. Tom was the first to present his towering height at the scratch, but was almost on the instant met by his opponent. Bos Tyler pointed at Mace, in a good-humoured manner, as much as to intimate Jem had had some of the burnishing powder. Mace feinted with the left, but, finding he could not get in with artistic effect, he did not let it go freely from the shoulder. Tom, for the purpose of taking better range, followed up and with the left got home on the right cheek, and also put in one from the right. As Mace broke to get away, Tom hit out with both mauleys, but did no execution, as Mace threw the left off well with the right guard. After slight sparring and manœuvring Tom led the left, but it was not sent sufficiently well in to be effective, nor did he meet with any better success in following up with a wild hit from the right, for Jem drew well out of range. On again coming to distance, King worked with his right arm backwards and forwards, as though he intended to let it go, but did not. As Jem shifted Tom followed, when Mace got home a fine left-handed hit on the jaw. The combatants in the most spirited manner fought across the ring, Mace administering some of the cayenne with both mauleys. In the close both struggled for the fall, when Tom got from his man and went to grass in his own corner.5.—Mace was the first to come from his corner, but he had not long to wait before Tom faced him. Both men were considerably pinked, and their physiognomies now possessed more touches of beauty than are to be found in their photographs in George Newbold’s collection of celebrities. Jem, as he came from his corner, bent his head forward, as though he was mentally debating in what new manner he should try to get well at his man, who by the rapid style in which he had been fighting, had given proof that he was a dangerous antagonist. King, the instant he had put up his hands, went dashing to force the fighting. With the left he administered a stinger on the right cheek, and followed up with a half round hit from the right. Mace, as his opponent rushed at him to close, drew out, but Tom, not to be denied, followed up, when, in a rally, Jem pegged away with both mauleys, left and right, with astonishing rapidity, doing a great deal of heavy execution. In the close they struggled for the fall, when Mace threw his man in clever style, near the ropes. (The friends of Mace were in ecstasies, and long odds were offered on their pet.)6.—Tom in the first two or three rounds had unquestionably had a shade the best of it, from the style in which he had gone dashing at his man, and the quickness he had displayed. Mace did not exhibit that steadiness in his practice he afterwards did. Now, however, that Jem had got the true measure of his man there was a total change in his tactics, and the manner in which he now fought proved that he was in all respects superior to the “big-’un” in science. Both, on presenting themselves at the mark, bore evidence of having been by no means idle, for Jem was swelled about the ivories in a very conspicuous manner, while King, from the appearance of his left peeper, gave unmistakable proof of having been warmed up; he was likewise slightly bleeding from the nose. Still there had been no serious damage done on the part of either. After some little manœuvring, the combatants changing and shifting position, King dashed at his antagonist in his usual style, getting home left and right on the head. Mace met his man as he came with the rush on the milling suit, and, in one of the finest rallies that could be witnessed, the combatants fought right across the ring; there was something delightful to the admirers of boxing in Jem’s style of fighting his man with both hands, left and right, at the nob. These blows were delivered with a rapidity that was quite electrifying, being sent ding dong, straight home, so that Jem was all over his man in an instant, the blows making an impression as though Tom had been stamped with a couple of dies. Tom was by no means idle, but also pegged away at his man with the left on the head and the right on the body in merry fashion. In the close they got on the ropes, when Jem for the moment touched the top cord with his right hand, but Tom having shifted his position, the men struggled for the fall, when Tom, as a termination to this well-fought round, was under.7.—As the battle progressed, so did it increase in interest, for there was a marked speciality about the manner in which it was being fought that could not possibly fail to enhance its importance among the admirers of bold and genuine boxing. There can be no disputing, both men had been from the commencement fighting remarkably well, and the battle, as will be seen, had already presented two striking and prominent features; for though, until Jem had thoroughly got the measure of his man, King had in the opening bout been considered to have a slight lead, yet the style in which Mace was now performing was sufficient to convince all that there had not been the slightest mistake made in his merits as regards milling excellence. The combatants came simultaneously from their corners. Tom, as he stood at the scratch, opened his mouth and rubbed his hands, and then, on again putting himself into position, drew out and retreated to his own corner, Mace following. Both, as they again drew to range, steadied themselves, and in a fine counter with the left got well home, Jem doing execution on the snout, Tom on the top part of thecranium. Mace, on breaking, got to the ropes, when, as Tom came boring in to close, he slipped from the embrace of the young giant and got down.8.—From the manner in which the tints had been rubbed in it was apparent the colours had been well worked up, though this was much more conspicuous on Tom’s dial than his opponent’s, for King’s left peeper had a small lump on the side of it, while the nose and mouth looked a good deal puffed. Tom, as usual, taking the initiative, lunged out the left, but did no execution, as he was not well to distance. Mace, after King had opened with this wild hit, took up fresh position, and in doing so, as he was followed by his antagonist, he hit the back part of his head against the stake. As Tom pressed in, Jem pulled himself together, and after some fine left-handed counter-hitting, in which Mace delivered very heavily on the middle of the head, they closed and went down, Mace through the ropes. The battle had now lasted 22 minutes, and it had been nothing but downright hard fighting and no mistake.9.—King made another dash at Jem, “on hostile thoughts intent,” and got home apparently a hot-’un on the right eye, but there was no sign of injury, evidently owing to Jem’s excellent condition. Jem instantly returned a severe prop on the dial with the left, and then countered a second effort on the part of King, who essayed his right. Tom, desperate, now dashed in with headstrong determination, and bored his man through the ropes, to the delight of the Kingites, who, however, declined to take 6 to 4, freely offered by the backers of Mace.10.—Mace, the instant the signal was given, came forth with the utmost alacrity to renew the struggle. King, as an opening to the attack, lunged out the left, and administered a telling spank on Jem’s right jaw; and then, as Tom came dashing on, the men fought in a fine two-handed rally right across the ring, when King got his man’s nob for an instant in the right arm lock, and pegged away in the fibbing beautifully. Jem, like a good tactician, extricated himself; and after some severe milling, in which Mace got in the most telling manner on his man’s mouth, cheek, and nose—going, in fact, all over the dial with his clenched digits in a rapid and surprising manner—the men closed at the ropes right opposite to the umpire and referee, when Jem got his man in position, and gave him a fair back-heel fall. Immense cheering for Mace.11.—King’s left eye looked worse than ever, while his good-looking mug was knocked out of all symmetry. Nevertheless he was again first to begin the attack, and in leading got home the left on the right cheek, following it in with one from the right on the side of the pimple. Jem, who timed his man beautifully, administered another tremendous left-hander on the mazzard, when Tom’s nob, from its effect, went waving back. On the instant, however, he pulled himself together and dashed in to renew the struggle, when Jem met him, and delivered a tremendous left-hander on the nose, which produced a copious flow of blood. As Mace took fresh ground Tom again dashed in, and they fought a regular ding-dong, slogging give-and-take to a close. Tom, with his usual style of bending his head slightly forward, went dashing at Jem, and got more than one straightening prop. They again fought in regular ding-dong to a close, when Tom, while receiving Jem’s props on the dial, made use of the right once or twice in a very efficient manner on the body, upon which Mace got from his man and went down. The referee here called the attention of Tom’s seconds to the fact that their man had struck Jem while he was down, which was true; but Mace was just on the go, and King could not help the hit, which was evidently unintentional, and no harm was done.12.—Another splendid rally in this round, Mace again in a telling manner doing execution with both mauleys, but evidently forced back by King’s irresistible advance. The men, who had fought right across the ring, closed in Mace’s corner, when Jem got down, Tom falling on him. During this round the referee had several times to caution the seconds, who, in a most reprehensible manner, followed their principals as closely as frequently to be in the way of the combatants.13.—The men again went to work in a spirited and determined manner. Jem, with his left, got well home on the front of his man’s dial, and jumped back; when Tom, with his right, administered some sounding spanks on the ribs. As Jem broke to get away, King followed him up, and Mace went down to end the round.14.—Mace commenced operations by getting well in range and delivering a pretty left-hander full on the nose, knocking Tom’s head round as though it had been shaken off its connections; nevertheless Tom again tried to force the fighting, when, after some merry exchanges, they closed, and in the fall went down together in the centre of the ring. King’s friends cheered him heartily, as he fully deserved.15.—Some sharp fighting, rather in favour of Mace, who, in the end, went down in the hitting, and King fell over him.16.—Tom dashed in viciously, and after a fine exchange of compliments, in which each did execution, they closed, and Jem, who had had the best of the exchanges, fell under.17.—Tom again forced the fighting, but though he delivered with his left, he was a little too round with his right to be effective. Mace, after countering with his antagonist, and getting well home with the left in the middle of the head, and followingup at half measure with the right, got cleverly away from his man. As Jem took fresh position, Tom followed him up, and the men in a rally fought to the ropes. In the close both got under the top rope, and fell nearly out of the ring.18.—Such a certainty was the battle looked upon by some of Jem’s admirers that Johnny Gideon here offered £30 to £5 on him, but there were no takers. Indeed, Tom’s umpire, a good judge, said that, bar accident, Mace could not lose. After some more severe fighting, in which Mace again delivered in a telling manner on Tom’s dial with both mauleys, Tom made a slip in getting from his man, and fell on his knees. On the instant the game fellow recovered his perpendicular, and as Jem noticed this he beckoned him to renew the round. King was willing, but his well-skilled seconds, seeing the fast work he was doing, refused to allow him.19.—It now seemed “all over, but shouting,” to the partisans of Mace, who called out any odds, without response. As the men came up it was easy to see that Jem, thinking himself already victorious, was anxious to finish off the business, lest the appearance of the police, which had been rumoured, should rob him of his conquest at the last moment. He worked in with both hands in weaving style to get well to distance, and as he took up his position he got into a slight hollow of the ring. Jem, who had repeatedly tried to land a clipping cross-counter with his right, had just opened himself for the purpose of trying it on, when Tom, who stood firmly to his guns, met him with one of the most tremendous hits we ever saw. It was a cross-counter on the left cheek with his right hand—a blow that seemed to go all over Jem’s face with crushing effect. Jem, bleeding from the mouth and nose, reeled and staggered from the effect of this visitation, and then, to the consternation of friends, fell in the middle of the ring all of a heap. So sudden a change in the aspect of affairs had hardly ever been witnessed in the memory of the oldest ring-goer, and Jem’s seconds were working with a zeal which told how serious was the position. Down came the odds. “The Champion’s licked,” said twenty voices in a sort of stage whisper, and all eyes were strained in the direction of the busy group in Mace’s corner.20.—King walked up to the scratch, watching the referee with ill-concealed anxiety to hear the call of “Time.” When, however, that functionary had twice repeated his summons, Mace, who had by no means recovered from the settler he had received, came unsteadily from his corner. Tom walked up to him, and Mace tried a wild delivery with his left, Tom retorted with a hot blow on the nose, and Mace, in getting away, went down close to the referee’s seat like a lump of lead. There was now the greatest commotion and excitement all round the ring. It was now as clearly King’s victory as it had previously been Mace’s. Brettle and Travers worked with a will, doing for their man everything possible, and he gallantly seconded their efforts, resolutely refusing to allow them to throw up the sponge.21 and last.—Before Mace left his corner Tom was waiting for his man, and no sooner did Mace come up than King went to him, and, with a slight push on the head, sent him down. Jem, who was weak and exhausted, and who had the right side of his phiz swelled in an extraordinary manner from the effects of King’s right-hander, was now clearlyhors de combat, and his friends, seeing he had not the remotest chance of winning, threw up the sponge in spite of his protests. This token of defeat was hailed with loud shouts by Tom’s friends, who were, of course, doubly delighted at the bravery and good fortune of their man, and they crowded enthusiastically round King to hail him as the last addition to the roll of brave men who have borne the proud title of Champion of England. The battle lasted exactly thirty-eight minutes.Remarks.—There can be little question as to the fact that King’s decisive victory was more immediately due to the tremendous hit to which Mace laid himself open by his over-eagerness to plant what he considered a sort ofcoup de graceon his gallant adversary. His skill in administering, as well as avoiding punishment, had given him an apparent best, but he had not reduced the courage and confidence, nor exhausted the strength of his dangerous antagonist. The “hit” that King “had left in him,” was, as Jem found to his cost that day, worth the Championship of England. That this is no disparagement of King’s victory all must admit, and a more gallant display of skill and bravery could not have been witnessed in any day present or past. King’s fairness of style in the finish of several rounds, when the lead trembled in the balance, shone conspicuously, and was warmly acknowledged by the spectators.At the giving up of the stakes, on the Thursday night week, King once again announced his intention of not contesting the Championship. This was generally understood as owing to obligations of another description in which a “ring” also had a part, and not a few of Young Tom’s intimatesdrank a toast to his matrimonial felicity, in the old formula of “The single married, and the married happy.”A curious telegraphic contretemps, which may serve as a caution to the over-clever, occurred on this occasion. Mr. William Wright, of Fulwood’s Rents, who was at this period an immense authority, had arranged with his London clerks that, to prevent surreptitious use of the earliest intelligence, for which he had incurred a large outlay, his telegram would give the losing man as winner, and they were to read it and manifold it accordingly. Having therefore sent off, at the earliest possible moment, “Mace beat King,” with the number of rounds,&c.the telegraph clerk on the spot, thinking he knew to the contrary, innocently set the messageright, and, out of kindness, sent over the wire, “King beat Mace;” whereon the clerks dutifully followed their instructions, and the wrong result was extensively circulated to clubs, subscribers,&c.and for some hours a bewildering uncertainty prevailed.The Young Sailor, however, had excited too great an interest in the public mind to be allowed to sink quietly into oblivion. He had distinctly stated that he did not seek the distinction, if distinction it was, of the Championship, and he resigned the belt into the hands of the Editor ofBell’s Life. Heenan, however, having made some good friends among gentlemen of the turf by his civility, intelligence, and good conduct, intimated to several of these, that if there was any “big one” desirous to try conclusions with him, he was ready to make a “quiet match” for not less than £500, and he had friends who would make it £1000 if required. This was formally communicated to the Editor ofBell’s Life, with a wish that no bouncing or offensive challenge should be inserted. The Editor at once put these facts in circulation in proper quarters, and the proposition, like most American notions, “a big thing,” made some of Tom King’s friends prick up their ears. Mace was engaged “two deep,” and moreover was not “their man.” A conference was held at Owen Swift’s, to which Tom King was invited, and he, with ready gallantry, declared the opportunity was most inviting and welcome. Money was forthcoming on both sides, and as both sides meant business, the paper subjoined was soon formulated—“Articles of Agreemententered into this 17th day of March, 1863, between John Camel Heenan and Thomas King. The said John Camel Heenan agrees to fight the said Thomas King a fair stand-up fight, according to the new rules of the ring, by which the said John Camel Heenan and the said Thomas King hereby agree to be bound. The said fight shall be for the sum of £1,000 a side, and shall take place on the 8th day of December, 1863, within 100 miles of London. In pursuance of this agreement, £100 a side are now depositedin the hands of Mr. John Coney, who shall transmit the same to the Editor ofBell’s Life, who shall be final stakeholder; the second deposit, of £50 a side, shall be made at Mr. W. Richardson’s, “Blue Anchor,” Shoreditch, on Thursday, March 26; the third, of £50 a side, to be made on April 9; the fourth, of £50 a side, on April 23; the fifth, of £50 a side, on May 7; the sixth, of £50 a side, on May 21; the seventh, of £50 a side, on June 4; the eighth, of £50 a side, on June 18; the ninth, of £50 a side, on July 2; the tenth, of £50 a side, on July 16; the eleventh, of £50 a side, on July 30; the twelfth, of £50 a side, on August 13; the thirteenth, of £50 a side, on August 27; the fourteenth, of £50 a side, on September 10; the fifteenth, of £50 a side, on September 24; the sixteenth, of £50 a side, on October 27; the seventeenth, of £50 a side, on November 5; and the final deposit, of £100 a side, on November 26, at Mr. W. Richardson’s, “Blue Anchor,” as above, when the men shall mutually agree to the place of fighting. The said deposits to be made between the hours of eight and ten p.m. on the days and at the houses named; either party failing, to forfeit the money down. The houses at which the deposits shall be made shall be named by each party alternately, and to be made in London. The place of the next deposit to be named as the staking of the previous one, Heenan having to name the place of the third deposit. The men to be in the ring between the hours of ten a.m. and one p.m. on the day named, or the man absent to forfeit the money. But, in the event of magisterial interference, the referee shall decide the next place and time of meeting, the same day, if possible. The expenses of the ropes and stakes shall be borne mutually. Mr. Dowling, the Editor ofBell’s Life in London, to be referee. Two umpires to be chosen on the ground; and, in case of dispute between them, the decision of the referee to be final.“In pursuance of this agreement, we hereunto attach our names—“John Camel Heenan.“Charles Bush, for Thomas King.“Witness:H. A. Reed.”The match made, each man at once proceeded to make trading capital out of it by travelling the provinces, and this at first led to a belief that the match would never come to anything, but was merely got up for this purpose. On the other hand it was asserted, that the match was sure to come off, but the result had been cut and dried; that the backers of the men intended to make a trading speculation out of the “Special” which was to convey the belligerents to the scene of action. It was known that a sum of more than £1000 had been divided between Sayers and Heenan out of the profits of the train for their match, and the supposition was, perhaps, not unnatural that £500 would be very good interest upon £100 for a few months, setting aside the off chance of something else turning up into the bargain. As the day approached for the men to go into training fears as to the affair not being genuine quickly subsided, and in racing circles the match created much interest, numerous bets of 6 to 4 being laid on the Benicia Boy, whose appearance at Newmarket during the October Meetings fully justified the confidence reposed in him. Heenan took his breathings almost entirely at Newmarket in company with his own brother Jem, and Macdonald, but required very little, if any, looking after. His feats as a pedestrian during his work were something extraordinary, six miles and a “bittock” did he generally turn in ordinary walking, and many a spin and a tie up did he give to some of our crack jocks, among whom are to be found no mean specimens of fair toe-and-heel walkers. Jack’s spins at the top of his speed, too, not a little astonished the Browns, andwe have been credibly informed he could on a pinch do his quarter in 56 seconds—not bad for a 14 stone man, standing nearly 6 feet 2 inches. When stripped his frame was a model for a sculptor. Every muscle was developed to a gigantic size, every tendon and sinew was distinctly visible; and, taken altogether, we doubt whether such a specimen of a Hurculean frame has been witnessed in the BritishP. R.for very many years. That Heenan possessed every confidence in himself may be gathered from the fact that some three weeks previously he sent a message to the stakeholder, requesting him to state that if he did not lick King the public ought to stigmatise him as the greatest impostor who ever entered the Ring. The Editor tells us that he declined to insert this statement at the time, as not being fair to either party, and considering that should the result justify the observation it would be time enough to make it when the battle was over. Heenan, as may be recollected, was born in 1834, at Troy, United States, of Irish parents. His fighting weight on stripping on the present occasion was, as near as possible, 14 stone 2lb.As the time of battle drew near the difficulties of a mode of transit to the ground increased. One after another refusals of accommodation were returned, the powers and authorities having experienced the disorders which seemed inseparable from the gathering of such a crowd as had now made it a custom to gather on such an occasion. During Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday, the offices of the sporting newspapers, to say nothing of the “houses of call” for sporting men, were besieged by questioners; but beyond the fact that tickets at three sovereigns a head were procurable, no definite tip was to be had.Tuesday evening was a night of festivity at all sporting pubs. The public fully believing that on the following morning the mill would come off, and all being agog to get the necessary tip. It was not until well into the small hours that many would believe that Wednesday was not the day. The same scene was repeated on Wednesday, with the exception that delay had doubled the excitement, and the houses, which on Tuesday were crammed, were on the following night well nigh overwhelmed, and the ordinary business could scarcely be transacted. At Owen Swift’s much anxiety was expressed as to whether a bet of £600 to £400 appointed to be put down the night before the fight would really be forthcoming, certain half-sceptics pinning their faith on this ceremony as calculated to prove the genuine nature of the match. It was also expected it would materially affect the betting, many considering that the staking would show suchconfidence on the part of King’s backers as would justify his being backed for money.On our arrival at London Bridge Station a few minutes before five in the morning, we found that the “rasping” division had dwindled away to an insignificant few. The fact is, the busy tongue of rumour had sent them so often to the various stations on a Will o’ the Wisp errand, that the detrimentals were completely tired out, and, after the lesson of Tuesday and Wednesday nights, without anything turning up, they denounced the whole affair as “a sell,” and stayed at home. Never was a secret of such a kind better kept, and the wide-awakes who “knew the exact spot to a yard,” found themselves neck deep in the mire, after a fashion they little calculated on; the cut-purse family wiping the frosty icicles from their noses in the west, when they should have been looking out for squalls in the South Eastern horizon. The delightful result was that the congregation of the fistic art passed through the thin dark line of worn and weary snapper-badgers. The arrangements of the legitimate “conveyancers” were most excellent; everybody was comfortably “taken in and done for,” whilst the presence of the ring-constable volunteers set the foot of authority down with a crash upon all attemps at “rigging the market.” In fact, one might have thought that he was going to see an early ploughing match, whilst the “Yahoo” business didn’t rise as high as the song of an old tea-kettle. Indeed, that ugly element was wise in the course it was constrained to adopt; had it done otherwise there was force enough present to have brought every atom of it to grief. Both the men reached the ground in good time, and both had their fair quantity of supporters, who would persist in blocking up each carriage door, so that the entrance of a breath of air was almost next to an impossibility.The train consisted of thirty carriages, in each of which, to use a theatrical phrase, there was not standing room. We were “horsed” by two powerful engines, and, at about a quarter past six glided out of the station without the least confusion, and with the greatest regularity. The morning stars were just beginning to show signs of that glimmering faintness which indicates the approach of daybreak. Once the train got in motion, not a sound was to be heard save the outburst of some occasional hearty laugh at the jocularity going on inside. But even this was of the mildest possible character, and there was an entire absence of that reprehensible boisterous outpouring which has too often awoke the slumbering people along the route, filling their half-dreamy imaginations with the horror that thePhilistines were upon them. We were more than half afraid that the new plan of paying at the doors would have been productive of the direst confusion, but our apprehensions were agreeably dispelled.On casting a quiet running glance through the interior of each carriage, before we started, we found the genuine patrons of our national manly “trial by battle” in very strong force indeed. We heard one and all join in a universal chorus of satisfaction at the way in which we had been “got off.” On and on we rolled through the fair county of Kent, and as the grey dawn of morning rose eastward on our track the mild fresh breeze played upon our half-sleepy faces, waking us up to a sense of life and activity that was as agreeable as it was invigorating. The morning was beautiful and mild, and away now to our left the bright blue-tinged light of early day could be seen breaking gently and softly, widening and lengthening as it imperceptibly spread over the landscape in a manner that would have excited the admiration of a Gainsborough or a Creswick. Still on and onward we go through deep cuttings and over high embankment; anon the iron horses slacken their speed, and the next instant the reverberating sounds of our whirling wheels tell us that we are passing through the bowels of mother earth. On emerging from the tunnel into open country our ears were saluted with voices that unmistakably marked the owners as denizens of the aristocratic regions west of Regent Street. Speculation made itself heard, and 6 and 7 to 4 on the Benicia Boy seemed to be the chorus of the song. Just as we could distinguish houses and buildings sufficiently, the train glided noiselessly into Reigate Junction, where we were “regaled” by the sight of a strong covey of early “blue birds” belonging to the Surrey County Constabulary. It is needless to say that they were not there on our invitation. We considered them more free than welcome, and following the prudent and time-honoured example of those philosophic predecessors of theirs, Masters Dogberry and Verges of blessed memory, we stole ourselves out of their company with all possible alacrity and despatch. A thin white frosty veil of mist floated over the landscape as we again got in full swing, whilst the leaden coloured clouds as they lay heavy and motionless overhead gave us cause for grave anxiety, but, as our fears were rising to an uncomfortable grade on our nervous thermometer, in we rushed to another tunnel. When we issued forth we made a series of weatherwise surveys all round us, and were joyed to find the dark curtain lifting evenly and gradually up on our right, whilst on the opposite side bright broken patches encouraged our most earnest hopes,Another turn of the steam valve, and away we sped at over forty miles an hour; wood and dell, hamlet and village, cottage and mansion flew by like the magic of the kaleidoscope, and the question of our journey’s end took the place of other topics for the moment. A few miles further on and we shot by Tunbridge Wells. By this time we could see that the “bold peasantry” were discussing their breakfast, but as we rattled on at the rate of a mile a minute and a half, we did not take particular notice of what they ate. At length we drew up in a secluded and well-selected spot, where we got out, yawned, stretched ourselves, and gulped in the sharp morning air most voraciously. On account of the extreme softness of the ground it was some time before a decent place could be found. At this hour, about a quarter past nine o’clock, the sun was shining out as magnificently as on a fine May morning, and as we toiled some mile and a half up a steep clayey hill, the “stuff” was taken out of many. At length a chosen spot was taken possession of, and the ring pitched in a field at Wadhurst, near Frant, below Tunbridge Wells. King first dropped in his castor, amid loud cheers, accompanied by Jerry Noon and Bos Tyler, and was immediately followed by Heenan, who was similarly received, being esquired by Jack Macdonald, and, for the sake of theatrical effect, Tom Sayers. Colours were now unfolded on both sides, and the combatants began to dress. The choice of ground was won by Heenan, and then came the referee. Some wrangling here took place in respect to that functionary, during which the betting went on with offers at 40 to 20,&c.on Heenan, but there did not seem to be any takers. Confusion now became the ruling element, wasting away precious time on the top of a hill that could be seen for twenty miles around. There were the men and their seconds ready, while the referee was expected to come from the clouds. Three quarters of an hour was spent in this way before matters were finally closed, and the referee originally proposed was ultimately agreed to. The men then began the important duty of the toilet, and in the hands of their respective valets that operation was soon completed. The ring was then cleared, and the men showed themselves ready in battle array. Heenan was the first to exhibit, mid the loud cheers of his admirers, and was instantly followed by King, for whom another salvo rose up from the throats of his party. Exactly at ten o’clock the men were delivered at the scratch, shook hands, and prepared to commenceTHE FIGHT.Round 1.—As the men advanced towards the centre of the ring the first glance seemed to show how great were the physical advantages of Heenan, who looked quite the stone heavier man he really was—King being comparatively a fair-skinned stripling; but a closer inspection revealed a jaded appearance. He looked clumsier altogether than when he fought Sayers. King, on the contrary, was as well as ever he could be, and there was a bloom and healthfulness about him, which spoke not only of steady training, but of an unvitiated constitution. He had not altogether the cut of a professional pugilist, but would rather be described as a fine, fresh, good-looking young countryman. The men threw themselves into attitude, and opened the round with a little sparring, but there was a hurried, not to say nervous, manner about each of them, which indicated that the scientific display would not be very prolonged. Heenan led off once or twice, but was not close enough. King was equally out of distance in trying to return. At last they got nearer, and exchanged good counter-hits. A couple more heavy hits were given, and King was drawing back to take up fresh ground, when Heenan plunged desperately at him, and got his left arm round his neck; the impetus of his rush carrying them both to the ropes. Here Heenan sought to fix his man in the dangerous manner he had practised with Sayers, but King’s strength enabled him to wrench himself up, and, locked together, they wrestled back to the centre of the ring. Here Heenan hung upon his man, squeezing him tightly, and trying to force him down. King, whose arms were at liberty, hit him heavily about the body left and right, until he fell, dragging Heenan with him, but the Yankee was uppermost. (The referee here entered the ring and cautioned Heenan as to his “hugging” system, which was certainly an unsightly mode of attack.)2.—Both men were somewhat flushed about the head from the previous round, and King appeared a little distressed from the severe struggle. He was urged to be first with his man, and led off directly he came to the scratch. He got well home on Heenan’s head; the latter countered, but without much precision, and some wild but heavy exchanges took place with both hands, King dealing the Yankee a severe blow on the mouth. Tom was pressing his man, when Heenan made a dash at him, and showing great superiority in strength, after a few seconds of squeezing, threw him heavily, a very dangerous fall, coming with all his weight upon him. (First bloodwas here given to King; Heenan’s lips being cut and bleeding.)3.—King seemed anxious to keep away from his man spar; there was no doubt that he was already considerably shaken by the severe falls he had received. Heenan appeared more anxious to seize a favourable chance to grasp his man than to hit him. After a moment’s pause they got together, and lashed out heavily with the left, each getting home. This led to some more exchanges, desperately heavy, it is true, but made in a wild style, and not like two finished boxers. Heenan again plunged in, King meeting him heavily as he came, but he grappled Tom, and again brought him down with shattering force across the lower rope, which was pressed to the ground. Luckily the ground was not hard. (Unpleasant as was Heenan’s style of fighting, he was considered to be getting the best of the battle, as King evidently could not resist his rush and clinching throw.)4.—King’s left eye was marked with a mouse, but otherwise he did not show much signs of punishment. The rounds were all short ones, Heenan forcing his way in upon King, a few slashing exchanges; then King was once more caught in the hug, and thrown a desperate fall. (Great disapprobation of Heenan’s style of fighting—if fighting it could be called. His hugging and squeezing was far worse than even in Sayers’s fight.)5.—King was as ready at the call of “time” as his antagonist, yet evidently felt the falls he was receiving, and sparred a bit for wind. Heenan was distressed also, and glad of a pause. They worked round a bit until they got near, when King, with the swiftness of lightning, dealt the Yankee a terrific hit in the middle of the head with his right, almost knocking him off his legs, and drawing streams of claret from a cut on his mouth. It was nearly a floorer, and on Heenan trying a return, King cross-countered very heavily on the side of the head. Heenan was for a moment at a standstill, and King led off again, but was out of distance, and the Yankee again “clinching”—we must borrow an Americanism which expresses more than our word “closing”—succeeded in once more putting on the “hug” and throwing King heavily; though he pitched over him so far as to strike the ground with his own head.6.—The fighting had been wild enough before, but in this round there was no attempt at precision or steadiness. The men punched—or punched at—one another wildly, King getting the best of what hitting did tell, till Heenan closed, and, getting his regular grip, flung King a burster.7.—The men went to work directly they faced each other, and in a slogging rally some really terrific hitting was given and taken. They broke away, but only for a few seconds, when they got together with more tremendous exchanges, yet still to the advantageof King, who allowed what little science was exhibited, and hit straightest. By a desperate snorter with his right, during this rally, he drew a fresh burst of crimson. Heenan closed in the hitting, hugged his man viciously, and then threw him one of the heaviest cross-buttocks seen for many a day. It was a crusher, and King lay for a few seconds until his seconds picked him up and bore him to his corner.8.—King, to the delight of his friends, came up promptly; although he was piping a little, he seemed marvellously little hurt by these continuous throws. Heenan was ready to fight to improve his supposed advantage, and the men exchanged stinging counters directly they faced each other, and heavy exchanges followed. Heenan dashed in as usual to seize his man, but on this occasion he was foiled, for King caught him in his arms; and, after a moment’s struggle, threw the Yankee heavily and fell on him. (This was a fair, unmistakable back fall and the cheering for King was tremendous.)9.—Heenan looked vexed as he came up; he had plainly made up his mind to recover his wrestling superiority, and tried for an opening. King was with him, and met him left and right; then, getting away again, planted on him with tremendous effect as he came in, catching his man well in the middle of the head; and now and then, in each of the rounds, giving a home hit on the body. Heenan at last got in, squeezed his man savagely, and again threw him a shattering fall.10.—The wildest and fastest of fighting still continued, in fact, the rally more resembled a “turn-up” of two angry navvies than the tactics of skilled boxers. The exchanges were of the severest description, although most of the blows seemed given at random. Heenan was wholly bent on throwing, and once more hugged King and threw him.11.—Heenan showed that the pace was telling on him, and it was doubtful whether he was not taking almost as much out of himself by his desperate struggles to throw King, as he was out of King by the falls. He persevered in his wrestling game, however, for hardly an attempt was made at a blow in this round before he grappled with King, and brought him over.12.—Tom was a little more on his guard this time, and led off; Heenan returned, and a few seconds of very hard fighting took place, both men being hit severely about the head till they closed, when King again succeeded in turning the tables, and threw Heenan heavily.13.—Although this round began with some countering which looked very heavy, yet Heenan’s blows did not, as a rule, tell very much; and when his seconds sent him up King looked clean, and comparatively free from punishment. Heenan again gave his man the hug, and threw him. After this round Heenan’s left hand became gradually of less service to him.14.—Heenan feinted with his left, and threw in a smasher on the head with his right. King stuck to him, but after some stinging exchanges, in which he had the best, he was thrown—one of the most tremendous cross-buttocks ever seen—and so stunned and shaken was King, that but for the tact and presence of mind of Jerry Noon, it is doubtful if he could have come to time.15.—In spite of the very heavy falls being nearly always in his favour, Heenan was now almost as much distressed as King, and the punishment given was certainly much against him. After a little sparring, heavy counters were exchanged, and then three or four smashing hits left and right, without a semblance of stopping or avoiding. Heenan drew back a little, and then lunging tremendously with his right, nailed King with such terrific force that he staggered and went down. (This wasfirst knock-down blowin favour of Heenan, and was one at the few clean hits he delivered or even attempted to deliver during the fight.)16.—Although slower than before in answering the call of “time,” King came resolutely up, and did not seem greatly shaken by the knock-down blow. Indeed, Heenan appeared worse from the effects of the last round than did his opponent, as King had planted so heavily on his left eye that it was badly cut and nearly closed. In some more heavy punching—pure slogging give-and-take, without any show of science—Heenan’s eye was quite shut up, and he showed some decided signs of weakness. King dashed in, and, after an exhausting struggle, forced him down.17.—In this round Heenan again got the fall; but it was for the last time. He was evidently falling off; and when once his superiority in strength or wrestling power was gone he seemed useless and almost helpless as a boxer. King hit him tremendously about the side of the head and on the eyes, and it appeared as if Heenan would soon be blind. However, as just said, he clutched King desperately, and threw him one of the hardest falls in the fight. But it was his last effort, and while he became visibly weaker every minute, King, strange to say, seemed little the worse.18.—There was at first some fear that the ring would be broken in; for the intense excitement among the outer crowd had induced a rush, which broke through the lukewarm resistance of the constables, and brought the mass up to the ropes. Luckily, however, nothing came of it. Heenan, thinking he had shaken King more than was really the case, and probably feeling that he was growing exhausted himself, rushed furiously at his man to improve his advantage. King, however, who had quickly recovered himself, met him with a couple of hits left and right, stopping the Yankee’s rush, andwhile he was yet on the stagger King closed, and, giving him the crook, pitched him over, and tell on him with stunning force.19.—Heenan came up rather hurriedly when time was called, but it was at once seen that he was almost beaten, and was quite groggy. He tried his rush, but it was no longer dangerous, and King stepped back twice, measured his distance, planted on him without a return, and, by a second straight hit, sent him down. In the 20th round King managed to back-heel Heenan. The same description applies to the next two rounds, excepting that in each of them Heenan grew shakier and wilder, and King’s superiority more marked. At the commencement of the 23rd round it was proposed to throw up the sponge, but Heenan would not hear of it, and staggered at his man with the semblance of his former rush. He staggered after receiving a blow, and was thrown by King without a chance of resisting. His backers, seeing that it was hopeless, and that it was only exposing the sinking boxer to punishment, insisted on his surrender, and the sponge was thrown up in token of defeat, after a desperate, but slashing, hugging, and unscientific battle ofthirty-five minutes, and twenty-four rounds.Remarks.—We may well spare any lengthened comment upon a contest the leading characteristics of which were “clinching,” rushing, squeezing, and attempts at strangulating hugs on the one side, and wild, desperate sledge-hammer defensive hitting on the other. Heenan proved beyond doubt or cavil that he did not deserve to rank in the first or even second rank of artistic boxers, and that sheer brute strength, seconded by weight, stature, and a certain amount of mere animal courage were his only qualifications. He seemed to have little idea of sparring for an opening, or as a means of defence; while the use of the skilful feints, well-timed delivery, or accurate measurement of distance, of getting close and then getting away, as practised by professional boxers, he ignored or despised. It was not the fault of Tom King that the fight was so bad. His form and style were far the better of the two, for he did not trust to mere wrestling and hauling his man about, and would have made a better show of tactics with a better man. Those flatterers who told Heenan that he could stand a comparison with King’s former opponent, Jem Mace, must have been grossly ignorant or wilfully deceived themselves. Few who saw this contest but felt, that it was solely the accident which so early in the battle disabled the gallant Tom Sayers’s right arm, had prevented the signal defeat of Heenan on the memorable day at Farnborough. King showed but few marks of severe hitting after the fight, nor was he so seriously exhausted by the falls as might have been expected, considering the weight and stature of both men. On the other hand, Heenan was seriously disfigured, indeed, utterly prostrate, and nearly blinded at the close of the encounter. Altogether, while an honest and game fight, it was an unsatisfactory one; the sole point settled being the entire absence, on the part of Heenan, of those scientific attainments and steady attributes indispensable to the successful practitioner in the Prize Ring. The immense stake, £2,000, so glaringly disproportionate to the merits of the battle, was duly paid over to King. For the circumstance of the appearance of the once formidable Tom Sayers at the ring-side, as second to his former antagonist, John Heenan, the reader is referred to pages 435 and 436 of the present volume.Again, and for the last time, Tom King announced his retirement from professional pugilism; we shall not, therefore, follow him into private life farther than to say, that he has carried with him the respect he earned by his public career, and that the last we heard of him was that he had earned the peaceful distinction of a prizeman, as a successful cultivator of flowers at horticultural shows, held in the neighbourhood of his suburban dwelling. And here we legitimately close the task we voluntarily imposed on ourself, of committing to the press the history ofOne Hundred and Forty-four Years of British Boxing.[41]As an example of the way Ring affairs were managed, we may note that, after 21 rounds in one hour and a quarter, the police really did come; that the men met the next day, January 1, 1862, and the police, after three rounds in 17 minutes, again appeared, there being strong ground for suspicion that they were sent for by telegram. Brettle having sprained his ankle, a postponement was granted until March, and then they met (the bet of £300 being off), and after four rounds, occupying one hour and 40 minutes, the referee gave them 15 minutes to strike a blow; but as one wouldn’t and t’other didn’t, a “draw” was declared, March 11, 1862.
“The fight between James Mace and Thomas King is to take place on Tuesday next in the neighbourhood of Aldershot.”
“The fight between James Mace and Thomas King is to take place on Tuesday next in the neighbourhood of Aldershot.”
We hope the “tipster” who so egregiously sold the reverend editor, as to day and place, did not add dishonesty to his pious fraud. At any rate we fear, as we did not see him in his accustomed position, that our right reverend friend, “the Bishop of Bond Street,” may have been misled by ecclesiastical authority; we believe the police were—of course we were not.
By four o’clock on Wednesday morning the approaches to Fenchurch Street were alive with intending excursionists, who on arriving at the station found the entrance crowded by a strong posse of roughs and thieves, always to be found at their posts on such occasions. These gentry had a good time of it, and so strong and daring were their forces, that the few ring keepers engaged to protect the public were completely overpowered, and, in many instances, eased of their own property. Bob Travers, among others, was attacked and forcibly deprived of all he had about him. Many lost their tickets, and many gentlemen were so intimidated that they declined facing the ordeal, and returned home. The scene was, on the whole, disgraceful. The managers of the undertaking were great sufferers, and were loud in their complaints that the conduct of these roughs prevented their reaping the harvest they had anticipated. Although the company commenced assembling at four o’clock, it was fully seven before there were any signs of a start, and the impatience of the early birds, although extreme, was fully justifiable. There was no help for it, however, as all was in the hands of the railway officials.
Fortunately the ring forces when concentrated were strong enough to exclude most of the undesirables from the platform; still some few managed to penetrate the ranks of the officials, and by their presence caused considerable annoyance, although the force of ring keepers was sufficiently strong to prevent their attempting any combined mischief. At length at seven o’clock the whistle sounded, and we were off for the appointed spot,where two vessels were found in waiting, and on board these the travellers, nearly 300 in number, at once repaired. It was now suggested that it would be well to try and get the fight off on the spot, instead of going further afield, where the Bobbies might be in force. This recommendation was accepted with promptitude, and while the Corinthians were luxuriating in a hot and comfortable breakfast on board, provided in admirable style by their old caterer, Dan Pinxton, the ring was pitched, and soon after eight all was in readiness. Through the exertions of Billy Duncan and his pals such admirable arrangements were made for the comfort of the inner ring ticket-holders that all were seated without difficulty, and, so far as we could perceive, the whole thing was carried out in a manner to reflect the highest credit on all concerned. As soon as the office was given by Fred Oliver the men approached the magic circle; Mace being the first to drop his castor within the ropes. He was attended by his old opponents Bob Brettle and Bob Travers, while King, who was somewhat behindhand, was waited on by Bos Tyler and Macdonald. Both men were welcomed with loud cheers from their partisans, which each acknowledged in a suitable manner. There was a good deal of lively betting at 6 and 7 to 4 on Mace, and his backers, we believe, would have gone on to any extent at that figure. A brisk business was done by the sale of inner ring tickets, but by no means to the extent we have known on former occasions. The sum received was nearly £37. Among the spectators were Tom Sayers, Heenan, and many other fistic celebrities, who eyed the tourney throughout with curiosity. And now the men stand up, approach each other and grasp hands, then separate; the seconds retire to their corners, and all eyes are fixed upon them as they upraise their daddles, and square their elbows for
THE FIGHT.Round 1.—The moment so fraught with interest and excitement to the partisans of the belligerents had now arrived; the busy and careful work of the seconds was at last completed to their entire satisfaction, and the men were delivered at the scratch. While their toilettes were being arranged, the “making ready” had been eagerly watched by all with almost breathless silence. As Jem turned to face his opponent, he gave a momentary glance at the sky, whose dull, cheerless aspect was anything but calculated to enliven the combatants. Both advanced to the scratch with that firm, confident step which denotes the action of well-drilled practitioners. Perhaps the first thing that riveted the attention of the spectators, as the men stood front to front, was the striking difference in height that existed between them. It had been confidently stated Mace had never been in better condition; certainly as he stood thus confronting his antagonist there was nothing in his appearance that even the most fastidious could for a moment find fault with, and in all things he looked a far superior man to what he did at their former meeting. In weight Jem, when he last poised the beam, pulled down 11st.4lb., and with inward confidence beaming in his every look, he stated it was impossible for a man to feel better, and this assurance there can be nodoubt had great weight with his admirers, many of whom from over-caution had waited for this “opinion” from Mace himself before they had ventured to “put it on.” If condition of itself could alone endow a man with the requisite “resin” to tune the first fiddle in such a grand pugilistic overture, Tom might well put the thing down as a “certainty,” for it must be admitted he was all the most critical could desire, and spoke of the result with a confidence devoid of anything in the shape of braggadocia. The moment the men had been “set” by their seconds, there was perceptible that twitch and shrug of the shoulders which denote a disapproval of the morning air. Jem having put up the prop in proper order drew from range, and of his position it may be said the skill of the master was at a glance displayed, for he was well covered at all points. Tom also stood remarkably well, and although by some good judges he is stated to be a little too fine about the loins, and by no means deep set enough in the jaw and neck, yet we think it was conceded by all impartial persons that he looked a most formidable opponent. Mace, as he manœuvred, looked at his man with a sharp, penetrating glance, as though he was mentally summing up “the King’s affairs.” The result seemed satisfactory, for Jem gave one of his well-known jerks of his nob, as much as to say, “Tom, I intend to give you another dressing.” King smiled at his man, as to intimate, if he really imagined he was capable of dressing him again he would oblige by being quick about it, as there needed something in the shape of excitement to warm up the system. After a little sparring, Mace drew from range and dropped his mauleys, and then with his right rubbed his breast and arms. King imitated his action, as he felt numbed about the arms, and thought it necessary to do the burnishing to promote the circulation. Jem, with a cautions step, drew into range, and then by way of a feeler slightly let go the left, but Tom, who was decidedly quicker on his pins than we had found him in any of his preceding battles, got well away with the back step, thus showing that these efforts on the part of his opponent to draw out his guard were not likely to be successful. As Mace broke for the purpose of getting from distance, King dashed at him in a most impetuous manner, and missed administering a fine right-handed shot from the fore-arm. Mace, as Tom came on for the purpose of forcing the fighting, retreated, but just opposite the referee and umpire the men closed, when Jem, finding he was likely to get in an awkward position, ducked his head and went down, King looking at him. Both men were loudly cheered, and as there was just a shade of commotion among those who formed the uprights of the outer circle, Professor Duncan, attended by the “faculty,” promptly administered a mild dose of his efficacious remedy for disorder—the “syrup of whips”—and the cure was instantaneous.2.—At the call of “Time,” both men, with the eagerness of swimmers for the first plunge, rushed simultaneously from the knees of their seconds, and threw up their hands at the scratch. After toeing the mark each again drew back from range, and began rubbing himself, looking meanwhile at each other like two game-cocks. Mace then led with the left, but did not get it home, as King got well from range. Tom now dashed at his man, and delivered the left on the top of the head, and put in another from the fore-arm on the mouth, which had the effect of producing a slight show of the crimson. (“First blood,” as on the former occasion, for Tom.) Jem, after getting home slightly with the left and right on the face, closed with his man, when, finding he was likely to get into an awkward position, he slipped from him and got down, there being so far not much harm done on either side, King fighting with remarkable fairness; his opponent decidedly more crafty and shifty, though, as Jack Macdonald said, “We’ll give him all that in.”3.—Jem was the first from his corner, but no sooner did the busy seconds of King see that his antagonist was on the move than they gave the office, and with that impetuosity of action so characteristic of him, he at once advanced to the scratch. After shifting, changing position, and taking fresh ground, King went dashing at his man for the purpose of forcing the fighting, and, getting partly over Jem’s right cross-guard, planted the left on the right cheek, and with a wild, slinging round hit from the right also got home on the side of the knowledge box. Mace, in the counter-hitting, administered one with his stinging left on the jaw, when, as Tom was not to be kept out, they closed. In the struggle for the fall King got his right arm round his man, and they went down near the referee in a curious, awkward fall, Mace, who had his head bent down, hitting the top part of it against the ground. It was imagined by many at the moment that Jem might have received some severe harm, but they were soon convinced to the contrary, for when the men had become disentangled and Jem with his usual agility had righted, he looked up with a broad grin, as much as to say, “Don’t be uneasy, I’m all right.” There was in the excitement again a slight manifestation of pressure in “Court,” the “special jury” being the least bit inconvenienced, but Duncan, as head usher, brought up his efficient corps to point, and the weight of this legal element was on the instant sufficient to restore matters to their proper balance, and the business of this admirably kept ring went on as smoothly as ever.4.—While the combatants were in their corners every movement of their secondswas watched with the utmost minuteness, and it was a treat to observe in what fine order they sent them up to the mark. Tom was the first to present his towering height at the scratch, but was almost on the instant met by his opponent. Bos Tyler pointed at Mace, in a good-humoured manner, as much as to intimate Jem had had some of the burnishing powder. Mace feinted with the left, but, finding he could not get in with artistic effect, he did not let it go freely from the shoulder. Tom, for the purpose of taking better range, followed up and with the left got home on the right cheek, and also put in one from the right. As Mace broke to get away, Tom hit out with both mauleys, but did no execution, as Mace threw the left off well with the right guard. After slight sparring and manœuvring Tom led the left, but it was not sent sufficiently well in to be effective, nor did he meet with any better success in following up with a wild hit from the right, for Jem drew well out of range. On again coming to distance, King worked with his right arm backwards and forwards, as though he intended to let it go, but did not. As Jem shifted Tom followed, when Mace got home a fine left-handed hit on the jaw. The combatants in the most spirited manner fought across the ring, Mace administering some of the cayenne with both mauleys. In the close both struggled for the fall, when Tom got from his man and went to grass in his own corner.5.—Mace was the first to come from his corner, but he had not long to wait before Tom faced him. Both men were considerably pinked, and their physiognomies now possessed more touches of beauty than are to be found in their photographs in George Newbold’s collection of celebrities. Jem, as he came from his corner, bent his head forward, as though he was mentally debating in what new manner he should try to get well at his man, who by the rapid style in which he had been fighting, had given proof that he was a dangerous antagonist. King, the instant he had put up his hands, went dashing to force the fighting. With the left he administered a stinger on the right cheek, and followed up with a half round hit from the right. Mace, as his opponent rushed at him to close, drew out, but Tom, not to be denied, followed up, when, in a rally, Jem pegged away with both mauleys, left and right, with astonishing rapidity, doing a great deal of heavy execution. In the close they struggled for the fall, when Mace threw his man in clever style, near the ropes. (The friends of Mace were in ecstasies, and long odds were offered on their pet.)6.—Tom in the first two or three rounds had unquestionably had a shade the best of it, from the style in which he had gone dashing at his man, and the quickness he had displayed. Mace did not exhibit that steadiness in his practice he afterwards did. Now, however, that Jem had got the true measure of his man there was a total change in his tactics, and the manner in which he now fought proved that he was in all respects superior to the “big-’un” in science. Both, on presenting themselves at the mark, bore evidence of having been by no means idle, for Jem was swelled about the ivories in a very conspicuous manner, while King, from the appearance of his left peeper, gave unmistakable proof of having been warmed up; he was likewise slightly bleeding from the nose. Still there had been no serious damage done on the part of either. After some little manœuvring, the combatants changing and shifting position, King dashed at his antagonist in his usual style, getting home left and right on the head. Mace met his man as he came with the rush on the milling suit, and, in one of the finest rallies that could be witnessed, the combatants fought right across the ring; there was something delightful to the admirers of boxing in Jem’s style of fighting his man with both hands, left and right, at the nob. These blows were delivered with a rapidity that was quite electrifying, being sent ding dong, straight home, so that Jem was all over his man in an instant, the blows making an impression as though Tom had been stamped with a couple of dies. Tom was by no means idle, but also pegged away at his man with the left on the head and the right on the body in merry fashion. In the close they got on the ropes, when Jem for the moment touched the top cord with his right hand, but Tom having shifted his position, the men struggled for the fall, when Tom, as a termination to this well-fought round, was under.7.—As the battle progressed, so did it increase in interest, for there was a marked speciality about the manner in which it was being fought that could not possibly fail to enhance its importance among the admirers of bold and genuine boxing. There can be no disputing, both men had been from the commencement fighting remarkably well, and the battle, as will be seen, had already presented two striking and prominent features; for though, until Jem had thoroughly got the measure of his man, King had in the opening bout been considered to have a slight lead, yet the style in which Mace was now performing was sufficient to convince all that there had not been the slightest mistake made in his merits as regards milling excellence. The combatants came simultaneously from their corners. Tom, as he stood at the scratch, opened his mouth and rubbed his hands, and then, on again putting himself into position, drew out and retreated to his own corner, Mace following. Both, as they again drew to range, steadied themselves, and in a fine counter with the left got well home, Jem doing execution on the snout, Tom on the top part of thecranium. Mace, on breaking, got to the ropes, when, as Tom came boring in to close, he slipped from the embrace of the young giant and got down.8.—From the manner in which the tints had been rubbed in it was apparent the colours had been well worked up, though this was much more conspicuous on Tom’s dial than his opponent’s, for King’s left peeper had a small lump on the side of it, while the nose and mouth looked a good deal puffed. Tom, as usual, taking the initiative, lunged out the left, but did no execution, as he was not well to distance. Mace, after King had opened with this wild hit, took up fresh position, and in doing so, as he was followed by his antagonist, he hit the back part of his head against the stake. As Tom pressed in, Jem pulled himself together, and after some fine left-handed counter-hitting, in which Mace delivered very heavily on the middle of the head, they closed and went down, Mace through the ropes. The battle had now lasted 22 minutes, and it had been nothing but downright hard fighting and no mistake.9.—King made another dash at Jem, “on hostile thoughts intent,” and got home apparently a hot-’un on the right eye, but there was no sign of injury, evidently owing to Jem’s excellent condition. Jem instantly returned a severe prop on the dial with the left, and then countered a second effort on the part of King, who essayed his right. Tom, desperate, now dashed in with headstrong determination, and bored his man through the ropes, to the delight of the Kingites, who, however, declined to take 6 to 4, freely offered by the backers of Mace.10.—Mace, the instant the signal was given, came forth with the utmost alacrity to renew the struggle. King, as an opening to the attack, lunged out the left, and administered a telling spank on Jem’s right jaw; and then, as Tom came dashing on, the men fought in a fine two-handed rally right across the ring, when King got his man’s nob for an instant in the right arm lock, and pegged away in the fibbing beautifully. Jem, like a good tactician, extricated himself; and after some severe milling, in which Mace got in the most telling manner on his man’s mouth, cheek, and nose—going, in fact, all over the dial with his clenched digits in a rapid and surprising manner—the men closed at the ropes right opposite to the umpire and referee, when Jem got his man in position, and gave him a fair back-heel fall. Immense cheering for Mace.11.—King’s left eye looked worse than ever, while his good-looking mug was knocked out of all symmetry. Nevertheless he was again first to begin the attack, and in leading got home the left on the right cheek, following it in with one from the right on the side of the pimple. Jem, who timed his man beautifully, administered another tremendous left-hander on the mazzard, when Tom’s nob, from its effect, went waving back. On the instant, however, he pulled himself together and dashed in to renew the struggle, when Jem met him, and delivered a tremendous left-hander on the nose, which produced a copious flow of blood. As Mace took fresh ground Tom again dashed in, and they fought a regular ding-dong, slogging give-and-take to a close. Tom, with his usual style of bending his head slightly forward, went dashing at Jem, and got more than one straightening prop. They again fought in regular ding-dong to a close, when Tom, while receiving Jem’s props on the dial, made use of the right once or twice in a very efficient manner on the body, upon which Mace got from his man and went down. The referee here called the attention of Tom’s seconds to the fact that their man had struck Jem while he was down, which was true; but Mace was just on the go, and King could not help the hit, which was evidently unintentional, and no harm was done.12.—Another splendid rally in this round, Mace again in a telling manner doing execution with both mauleys, but evidently forced back by King’s irresistible advance. The men, who had fought right across the ring, closed in Mace’s corner, when Jem got down, Tom falling on him. During this round the referee had several times to caution the seconds, who, in a most reprehensible manner, followed their principals as closely as frequently to be in the way of the combatants.13.—The men again went to work in a spirited and determined manner. Jem, with his left, got well home on the front of his man’s dial, and jumped back; when Tom, with his right, administered some sounding spanks on the ribs. As Jem broke to get away, King followed him up, and Mace went down to end the round.14.—Mace commenced operations by getting well in range and delivering a pretty left-hander full on the nose, knocking Tom’s head round as though it had been shaken off its connections; nevertheless Tom again tried to force the fighting, when, after some merry exchanges, they closed, and in the fall went down together in the centre of the ring. King’s friends cheered him heartily, as he fully deserved.15.—Some sharp fighting, rather in favour of Mace, who, in the end, went down in the hitting, and King fell over him.16.—Tom dashed in viciously, and after a fine exchange of compliments, in which each did execution, they closed, and Jem, who had had the best of the exchanges, fell under.17.—Tom again forced the fighting, but though he delivered with his left, he was a little too round with his right to be effective. Mace, after countering with his antagonist, and getting well home with the left in the middle of the head, and followingup at half measure with the right, got cleverly away from his man. As Jem took fresh position, Tom followed him up, and the men in a rally fought to the ropes. In the close both got under the top rope, and fell nearly out of the ring.18.—Such a certainty was the battle looked upon by some of Jem’s admirers that Johnny Gideon here offered £30 to £5 on him, but there were no takers. Indeed, Tom’s umpire, a good judge, said that, bar accident, Mace could not lose. After some more severe fighting, in which Mace again delivered in a telling manner on Tom’s dial with both mauleys, Tom made a slip in getting from his man, and fell on his knees. On the instant the game fellow recovered his perpendicular, and as Jem noticed this he beckoned him to renew the round. King was willing, but his well-skilled seconds, seeing the fast work he was doing, refused to allow him.19.—It now seemed “all over, but shouting,” to the partisans of Mace, who called out any odds, without response. As the men came up it was easy to see that Jem, thinking himself already victorious, was anxious to finish off the business, lest the appearance of the police, which had been rumoured, should rob him of his conquest at the last moment. He worked in with both hands in weaving style to get well to distance, and as he took up his position he got into a slight hollow of the ring. Jem, who had repeatedly tried to land a clipping cross-counter with his right, had just opened himself for the purpose of trying it on, when Tom, who stood firmly to his guns, met him with one of the most tremendous hits we ever saw. It was a cross-counter on the left cheek with his right hand—a blow that seemed to go all over Jem’s face with crushing effect. Jem, bleeding from the mouth and nose, reeled and staggered from the effect of this visitation, and then, to the consternation of friends, fell in the middle of the ring all of a heap. So sudden a change in the aspect of affairs had hardly ever been witnessed in the memory of the oldest ring-goer, and Jem’s seconds were working with a zeal which told how serious was the position. Down came the odds. “The Champion’s licked,” said twenty voices in a sort of stage whisper, and all eyes were strained in the direction of the busy group in Mace’s corner.20.—King walked up to the scratch, watching the referee with ill-concealed anxiety to hear the call of “Time.” When, however, that functionary had twice repeated his summons, Mace, who had by no means recovered from the settler he had received, came unsteadily from his corner. Tom walked up to him, and Mace tried a wild delivery with his left, Tom retorted with a hot blow on the nose, and Mace, in getting away, went down close to the referee’s seat like a lump of lead. There was now the greatest commotion and excitement all round the ring. It was now as clearly King’s victory as it had previously been Mace’s. Brettle and Travers worked with a will, doing for their man everything possible, and he gallantly seconded their efforts, resolutely refusing to allow them to throw up the sponge.21 and last.—Before Mace left his corner Tom was waiting for his man, and no sooner did Mace come up than King went to him, and, with a slight push on the head, sent him down. Jem, who was weak and exhausted, and who had the right side of his phiz swelled in an extraordinary manner from the effects of King’s right-hander, was now clearlyhors de combat, and his friends, seeing he had not the remotest chance of winning, threw up the sponge in spite of his protests. This token of defeat was hailed with loud shouts by Tom’s friends, who were, of course, doubly delighted at the bravery and good fortune of their man, and they crowded enthusiastically round King to hail him as the last addition to the roll of brave men who have borne the proud title of Champion of England. The battle lasted exactly thirty-eight minutes.Remarks.—There can be little question as to the fact that King’s decisive victory was more immediately due to the tremendous hit to which Mace laid himself open by his over-eagerness to plant what he considered a sort ofcoup de graceon his gallant adversary. His skill in administering, as well as avoiding punishment, had given him an apparent best, but he had not reduced the courage and confidence, nor exhausted the strength of his dangerous antagonist. The “hit” that King “had left in him,” was, as Jem found to his cost that day, worth the Championship of England. That this is no disparagement of King’s victory all must admit, and a more gallant display of skill and bravery could not have been witnessed in any day present or past. King’s fairness of style in the finish of several rounds, when the lead trembled in the balance, shone conspicuously, and was warmly acknowledged by the spectators.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—The moment so fraught with interest and excitement to the partisans of the belligerents had now arrived; the busy and careful work of the seconds was at last completed to their entire satisfaction, and the men were delivered at the scratch. While their toilettes were being arranged, the “making ready” had been eagerly watched by all with almost breathless silence. As Jem turned to face his opponent, he gave a momentary glance at the sky, whose dull, cheerless aspect was anything but calculated to enliven the combatants. Both advanced to the scratch with that firm, confident step which denotes the action of well-drilled practitioners. Perhaps the first thing that riveted the attention of the spectators, as the men stood front to front, was the striking difference in height that existed between them. It had been confidently stated Mace had never been in better condition; certainly as he stood thus confronting his antagonist there was nothing in his appearance that even the most fastidious could for a moment find fault with, and in all things he looked a far superior man to what he did at their former meeting. In weight Jem, when he last poised the beam, pulled down 11st.4lb., and with inward confidence beaming in his every look, he stated it was impossible for a man to feel better, and this assurance there can be nodoubt had great weight with his admirers, many of whom from over-caution had waited for this “opinion” from Mace himself before they had ventured to “put it on.” If condition of itself could alone endow a man with the requisite “resin” to tune the first fiddle in such a grand pugilistic overture, Tom might well put the thing down as a “certainty,” for it must be admitted he was all the most critical could desire, and spoke of the result with a confidence devoid of anything in the shape of braggadocia. The moment the men had been “set” by their seconds, there was perceptible that twitch and shrug of the shoulders which denote a disapproval of the morning air. Jem having put up the prop in proper order drew from range, and of his position it may be said the skill of the master was at a glance displayed, for he was well covered at all points. Tom also stood remarkably well, and although by some good judges he is stated to be a little too fine about the loins, and by no means deep set enough in the jaw and neck, yet we think it was conceded by all impartial persons that he looked a most formidable opponent. Mace, as he manœuvred, looked at his man with a sharp, penetrating glance, as though he was mentally summing up “the King’s affairs.” The result seemed satisfactory, for Jem gave one of his well-known jerks of his nob, as much as to say, “Tom, I intend to give you another dressing.” King smiled at his man, as to intimate, if he really imagined he was capable of dressing him again he would oblige by being quick about it, as there needed something in the shape of excitement to warm up the system. After a little sparring, Mace drew from range and dropped his mauleys, and then with his right rubbed his breast and arms. King imitated his action, as he felt numbed about the arms, and thought it necessary to do the burnishing to promote the circulation. Jem, with a cautions step, drew into range, and then by way of a feeler slightly let go the left, but Tom, who was decidedly quicker on his pins than we had found him in any of his preceding battles, got well away with the back step, thus showing that these efforts on the part of his opponent to draw out his guard were not likely to be successful. As Mace broke for the purpose of getting from distance, King dashed at him in a most impetuous manner, and missed administering a fine right-handed shot from the fore-arm. Mace, as Tom came on for the purpose of forcing the fighting, retreated, but just opposite the referee and umpire the men closed, when Jem, finding he was likely to get in an awkward position, ducked his head and went down, King looking at him. Both men were loudly cheered, and as there was just a shade of commotion among those who formed the uprights of the outer circle, Professor Duncan, attended by the “faculty,” promptly administered a mild dose of his efficacious remedy for disorder—the “syrup of whips”—and the cure was instantaneous.
2.—At the call of “Time,” both men, with the eagerness of swimmers for the first plunge, rushed simultaneously from the knees of their seconds, and threw up their hands at the scratch. After toeing the mark each again drew back from range, and began rubbing himself, looking meanwhile at each other like two game-cocks. Mace then led with the left, but did not get it home, as King got well from range. Tom now dashed at his man, and delivered the left on the top of the head, and put in another from the fore-arm on the mouth, which had the effect of producing a slight show of the crimson. (“First blood,” as on the former occasion, for Tom.) Jem, after getting home slightly with the left and right on the face, closed with his man, when, finding he was likely to get into an awkward position, he slipped from him and got down, there being so far not much harm done on either side, King fighting with remarkable fairness; his opponent decidedly more crafty and shifty, though, as Jack Macdonald said, “We’ll give him all that in.”
3.—Jem was the first from his corner, but no sooner did the busy seconds of King see that his antagonist was on the move than they gave the office, and with that impetuosity of action so characteristic of him, he at once advanced to the scratch. After shifting, changing position, and taking fresh ground, King went dashing at his man for the purpose of forcing the fighting, and, getting partly over Jem’s right cross-guard, planted the left on the right cheek, and with a wild, slinging round hit from the right also got home on the side of the knowledge box. Mace, in the counter-hitting, administered one with his stinging left on the jaw, when, as Tom was not to be kept out, they closed. In the struggle for the fall King got his right arm round his man, and they went down near the referee in a curious, awkward fall, Mace, who had his head bent down, hitting the top part of it against the ground. It was imagined by many at the moment that Jem might have received some severe harm, but they were soon convinced to the contrary, for when the men had become disentangled and Jem with his usual agility had righted, he looked up with a broad grin, as much as to say, “Don’t be uneasy, I’m all right.” There was in the excitement again a slight manifestation of pressure in “Court,” the “special jury” being the least bit inconvenienced, but Duncan, as head usher, brought up his efficient corps to point, and the weight of this legal element was on the instant sufficient to restore matters to their proper balance, and the business of this admirably kept ring went on as smoothly as ever.
4.—While the combatants were in their corners every movement of their secondswas watched with the utmost minuteness, and it was a treat to observe in what fine order they sent them up to the mark. Tom was the first to present his towering height at the scratch, but was almost on the instant met by his opponent. Bos Tyler pointed at Mace, in a good-humoured manner, as much as to intimate Jem had had some of the burnishing powder. Mace feinted with the left, but, finding he could not get in with artistic effect, he did not let it go freely from the shoulder. Tom, for the purpose of taking better range, followed up and with the left got home on the right cheek, and also put in one from the right. As Mace broke to get away, Tom hit out with both mauleys, but did no execution, as Mace threw the left off well with the right guard. After slight sparring and manœuvring Tom led the left, but it was not sent sufficiently well in to be effective, nor did he meet with any better success in following up with a wild hit from the right, for Jem drew well out of range. On again coming to distance, King worked with his right arm backwards and forwards, as though he intended to let it go, but did not. As Jem shifted Tom followed, when Mace got home a fine left-handed hit on the jaw. The combatants in the most spirited manner fought across the ring, Mace administering some of the cayenne with both mauleys. In the close both struggled for the fall, when Tom got from his man and went to grass in his own corner.
5.—Mace was the first to come from his corner, but he had not long to wait before Tom faced him. Both men were considerably pinked, and their physiognomies now possessed more touches of beauty than are to be found in their photographs in George Newbold’s collection of celebrities. Jem, as he came from his corner, bent his head forward, as though he was mentally debating in what new manner he should try to get well at his man, who by the rapid style in which he had been fighting, had given proof that he was a dangerous antagonist. King, the instant he had put up his hands, went dashing to force the fighting. With the left he administered a stinger on the right cheek, and followed up with a half round hit from the right. Mace, as his opponent rushed at him to close, drew out, but Tom, not to be denied, followed up, when, in a rally, Jem pegged away with both mauleys, left and right, with astonishing rapidity, doing a great deal of heavy execution. In the close they struggled for the fall, when Mace threw his man in clever style, near the ropes. (The friends of Mace were in ecstasies, and long odds were offered on their pet.)
6.—Tom in the first two or three rounds had unquestionably had a shade the best of it, from the style in which he had gone dashing at his man, and the quickness he had displayed. Mace did not exhibit that steadiness in his practice he afterwards did. Now, however, that Jem had got the true measure of his man there was a total change in his tactics, and the manner in which he now fought proved that he was in all respects superior to the “big-’un” in science. Both, on presenting themselves at the mark, bore evidence of having been by no means idle, for Jem was swelled about the ivories in a very conspicuous manner, while King, from the appearance of his left peeper, gave unmistakable proof of having been warmed up; he was likewise slightly bleeding from the nose. Still there had been no serious damage done on the part of either. After some little manœuvring, the combatants changing and shifting position, King dashed at his antagonist in his usual style, getting home left and right on the head. Mace met his man as he came with the rush on the milling suit, and, in one of the finest rallies that could be witnessed, the combatants fought right across the ring; there was something delightful to the admirers of boxing in Jem’s style of fighting his man with both hands, left and right, at the nob. These blows were delivered with a rapidity that was quite electrifying, being sent ding dong, straight home, so that Jem was all over his man in an instant, the blows making an impression as though Tom had been stamped with a couple of dies. Tom was by no means idle, but also pegged away at his man with the left on the head and the right on the body in merry fashion. In the close they got on the ropes, when Jem for the moment touched the top cord with his right hand, but Tom having shifted his position, the men struggled for the fall, when Tom, as a termination to this well-fought round, was under.
7.—As the battle progressed, so did it increase in interest, for there was a marked speciality about the manner in which it was being fought that could not possibly fail to enhance its importance among the admirers of bold and genuine boxing. There can be no disputing, both men had been from the commencement fighting remarkably well, and the battle, as will be seen, had already presented two striking and prominent features; for though, until Jem had thoroughly got the measure of his man, King had in the opening bout been considered to have a slight lead, yet the style in which Mace was now performing was sufficient to convince all that there had not been the slightest mistake made in his merits as regards milling excellence. The combatants came simultaneously from their corners. Tom, as he stood at the scratch, opened his mouth and rubbed his hands, and then, on again putting himself into position, drew out and retreated to his own corner, Mace following. Both, as they again drew to range, steadied themselves, and in a fine counter with the left got well home, Jem doing execution on the snout, Tom on the top part of thecranium. Mace, on breaking, got to the ropes, when, as Tom came boring in to close, he slipped from the embrace of the young giant and got down.
8.—From the manner in which the tints had been rubbed in it was apparent the colours had been well worked up, though this was much more conspicuous on Tom’s dial than his opponent’s, for King’s left peeper had a small lump on the side of it, while the nose and mouth looked a good deal puffed. Tom, as usual, taking the initiative, lunged out the left, but did no execution, as he was not well to distance. Mace, after King had opened with this wild hit, took up fresh position, and in doing so, as he was followed by his antagonist, he hit the back part of his head against the stake. As Tom pressed in, Jem pulled himself together, and after some fine left-handed counter-hitting, in which Mace delivered very heavily on the middle of the head, they closed and went down, Mace through the ropes. The battle had now lasted 22 minutes, and it had been nothing but downright hard fighting and no mistake.
9.—King made another dash at Jem, “on hostile thoughts intent,” and got home apparently a hot-’un on the right eye, but there was no sign of injury, evidently owing to Jem’s excellent condition. Jem instantly returned a severe prop on the dial with the left, and then countered a second effort on the part of King, who essayed his right. Tom, desperate, now dashed in with headstrong determination, and bored his man through the ropes, to the delight of the Kingites, who, however, declined to take 6 to 4, freely offered by the backers of Mace.
10.—Mace, the instant the signal was given, came forth with the utmost alacrity to renew the struggle. King, as an opening to the attack, lunged out the left, and administered a telling spank on Jem’s right jaw; and then, as Tom came dashing on, the men fought in a fine two-handed rally right across the ring, when King got his man’s nob for an instant in the right arm lock, and pegged away in the fibbing beautifully. Jem, like a good tactician, extricated himself; and after some severe milling, in which Mace got in the most telling manner on his man’s mouth, cheek, and nose—going, in fact, all over the dial with his clenched digits in a rapid and surprising manner—the men closed at the ropes right opposite to the umpire and referee, when Jem got his man in position, and gave him a fair back-heel fall. Immense cheering for Mace.
11.—King’s left eye looked worse than ever, while his good-looking mug was knocked out of all symmetry. Nevertheless he was again first to begin the attack, and in leading got home the left on the right cheek, following it in with one from the right on the side of the pimple. Jem, who timed his man beautifully, administered another tremendous left-hander on the mazzard, when Tom’s nob, from its effect, went waving back. On the instant, however, he pulled himself together and dashed in to renew the struggle, when Jem met him, and delivered a tremendous left-hander on the nose, which produced a copious flow of blood. As Mace took fresh ground Tom again dashed in, and they fought a regular ding-dong, slogging give-and-take to a close. Tom, with his usual style of bending his head slightly forward, went dashing at Jem, and got more than one straightening prop. They again fought in regular ding-dong to a close, when Tom, while receiving Jem’s props on the dial, made use of the right once or twice in a very efficient manner on the body, upon which Mace got from his man and went down. The referee here called the attention of Tom’s seconds to the fact that their man had struck Jem while he was down, which was true; but Mace was just on the go, and King could not help the hit, which was evidently unintentional, and no harm was done.
12.—Another splendid rally in this round, Mace again in a telling manner doing execution with both mauleys, but evidently forced back by King’s irresistible advance. The men, who had fought right across the ring, closed in Mace’s corner, when Jem got down, Tom falling on him. During this round the referee had several times to caution the seconds, who, in a most reprehensible manner, followed their principals as closely as frequently to be in the way of the combatants.
13.—The men again went to work in a spirited and determined manner. Jem, with his left, got well home on the front of his man’s dial, and jumped back; when Tom, with his right, administered some sounding spanks on the ribs. As Jem broke to get away, King followed him up, and Mace went down to end the round.
14.—Mace commenced operations by getting well in range and delivering a pretty left-hander full on the nose, knocking Tom’s head round as though it had been shaken off its connections; nevertheless Tom again tried to force the fighting, when, after some merry exchanges, they closed, and in the fall went down together in the centre of the ring. King’s friends cheered him heartily, as he fully deserved.
15.—Some sharp fighting, rather in favour of Mace, who, in the end, went down in the hitting, and King fell over him.
16.—Tom dashed in viciously, and after a fine exchange of compliments, in which each did execution, they closed, and Jem, who had had the best of the exchanges, fell under.
17.—Tom again forced the fighting, but though he delivered with his left, he was a little too round with his right to be effective. Mace, after countering with his antagonist, and getting well home with the left in the middle of the head, and followingup at half measure with the right, got cleverly away from his man. As Jem took fresh position, Tom followed him up, and the men in a rally fought to the ropes. In the close both got under the top rope, and fell nearly out of the ring.
18.—Such a certainty was the battle looked upon by some of Jem’s admirers that Johnny Gideon here offered £30 to £5 on him, but there were no takers. Indeed, Tom’s umpire, a good judge, said that, bar accident, Mace could not lose. After some more severe fighting, in which Mace again delivered in a telling manner on Tom’s dial with both mauleys, Tom made a slip in getting from his man, and fell on his knees. On the instant the game fellow recovered his perpendicular, and as Jem noticed this he beckoned him to renew the round. King was willing, but his well-skilled seconds, seeing the fast work he was doing, refused to allow him.
19.—It now seemed “all over, but shouting,” to the partisans of Mace, who called out any odds, without response. As the men came up it was easy to see that Jem, thinking himself already victorious, was anxious to finish off the business, lest the appearance of the police, which had been rumoured, should rob him of his conquest at the last moment. He worked in with both hands in weaving style to get well to distance, and as he took up his position he got into a slight hollow of the ring. Jem, who had repeatedly tried to land a clipping cross-counter with his right, had just opened himself for the purpose of trying it on, when Tom, who stood firmly to his guns, met him with one of the most tremendous hits we ever saw. It was a cross-counter on the left cheek with his right hand—a blow that seemed to go all over Jem’s face with crushing effect. Jem, bleeding from the mouth and nose, reeled and staggered from the effect of this visitation, and then, to the consternation of friends, fell in the middle of the ring all of a heap. So sudden a change in the aspect of affairs had hardly ever been witnessed in the memory of the oldest ring-goer, and Jem’s seconds were working with a zeal which told how serious was the position. Down came the odds. “The Champion’s licked,” said twenty voices in a sort of stage whisper, and all eyes were strained in the direction of the busy group in Mace’s corner.
20.—King walked up to the scratch, watching the referee with ill-concealed anxiety to hear the call of “Time.” When, however, that functionary had twice repeated his summons, Mace, who had by no means recovered from the settler he had received, came unsteadily from his corner. Tom walked up to him, and Mace tried a wild delivery with his left, Tom retorted with a hot blow on the nose, and Mace, in getting away, went down close to the referee’s seat like a lump of lead. There was now the greatest commotion and excitement all round the ring. It was now as clearly King’s victory as it had previously been Mace’s. Brettle and Travers worked with a will, doing for their man everything possible, and he gallantly seconded their efforts, resolutely refusing to allow them to throw up the sponge.
21 and last.—Before Mace left his corner Tom was waiting for his man, and no sooner did Mace come up than King went to him, and, with a slight push on the head, sent him down. Jem, who was weak and exhausted, and who had the right side of his phiz swelled in an extraordinary manner from the effects of King’s right-hander, was now clearlyhors de combat, and his friends, seeing he had not the remotest chance of winning, threw up the sponge in spite of his protests. This token of defeat was hailed with loud shouts by Tom’s friends, who were, of course, doubly delighted at the bravery and good fortune of their man, and they crowded enthusiastically round King to hail him as the last addition to the roll of brave men who have borne the proud title of Champion of England. The battle lasted exactly thirty-eight minutes.
Remarks.—There can be little question as to the fact that King’s decisive victory was more immediately due to the tremendous hit to which Mace laid himself open by his over-eagerness to plant what he considered a sort ofcoup de graceon his gallant adversary. His skill in administering, as well as avoiding punishment, had given him an apparent best, but he had not reduced the courage and confidence, nor exhausted the strength of his dangerous antagonist. The “hit” that King “had left in him,” was, as Jem found to his cost that day, worth the Championship of England. That this is no disparagement of King’s victory all must admit, and a more gallant display of skill and bravery could not have been witnessed in any day present or past. King’s fairness of style in the finish of several rounds, when the lead trembled in the balance, shone conspicuously, and was warmly acknowledged by the spectators.
At the giving up of the stakes, on the Thursday night week, King once again announced his intention of not contesting the Championship. This was generally understood as owing to obligations of another description in which a “ring” also had a part, and not a few of Young Tom’s intimatesdrank a toast to his matrimonial felicity, in the old formula of “The single married, and the married happy.”
A curious telegraphic contretemps, which may serve as a caution to the over-clever, occurred on this occasion. Mr. William Wright, of Fulwood’s Rents, who was at this period an immense authority, had arranged with his London clerks that, to prevent surreptitious use of the earliest intelligence, for which he had incurred a large outlay, his telegram would give the losing man as winner, and they were to read it and manifold it accordingly. Having therefore sent off, at the earliest possible moment, “Mace beat King,” with the number of rounds,&c.the telegraph clerk on the spot, thinking he knew to the contrary, innocently set the messageright, and, out of kindness, sent over the wire, “King beat Mace;” whereon the clerks dutifully followed their instructions, and the wrong result was extensively circulated to clubs, subscribers,&c.and for some hours a bewildering uncertainty prevailed.
The Young Sailor, however, had excited too great an interest in the public mind to be allowed to sink quietly into oblivion. He had distinctly stated that he did not seek the distinction, if distinction it was, of the Championship, and he resigned the belt into the hands of the Editor ofBell’s Life. Heenan, however, having made some good friends among gentlemen of the turf by his civility, intelligence, and good conduct, intimated to several of these, that if there was any “big one” desirous to try conclusions with him, he was ready to make a “quiet match” for not less than £500, and he had friends who would make it £1000 if required. This was formally communicated to the Editor ofBell’s Life, with a wish that no bouncing or offensive challenge should be inserted. The Editor at once put these facts in circulation in proper quarters, and the proposition, like most American notions, “a big thing,” made some of Tom King’s friends prick up their ears. Mace was engaged “two deep,” and moreover was not “their man.” A conference was held at Owen Swift’s, to which Tom King was invited, and he, with ready gallantry, declared the opportunity was most inviting and welcome. Money was forthcoming on both sides, and as both sides meant business, the paper subjoined was soon formulated—
“Articles of Agreemententered into this 17th day of March, 1863, between John Camel Heenan and Thomas King. The said John Camel Heenan agrees to fight the said Thomas King a fair stand-up fight, according to the new rules of the ring, by which the said John Camel Heenan and the said Thomas King hereby agree to be bound. The said fight shall be for the sum of £1,000 a side, and shall take place on the 8th day of December, 1863, within 100 miles of London. In pursuance of this agreement, £100 a side are now depositedin the hands of Mr. John Coney, who shall transmit the same to the Editor ofBell’s Life, who shall be final stakeholder; the second deposit, of £50 a side, shall be made at Mr. W. Richardson’s, “Blue Anchor,” Shoreditch, on Thursday, March 26; the third, of £50 a side, to be made on April 9; the fourth, of £50 a side, on April 23; the fifth, of £50 a side, on May 7; the sixth, of £50 a side, on May 21; the seventh, of £50 a side, on June 4; the eighth, of £50 a side, on June 18; the ninth, of £50 a side, on July 2; the tenth, of £50 a side, on July 16; the eleventh, of £50 a side, on July 30; the twelfth, of £50 a side, on August 13; the thirteenth, of £50 a side, on August 27; the fourteenth, of £50 a side, on September 10; the fifteenth, of £50 a side, on September 24; the sixteenth, of £50 a side, on October 27; the seventeenth, of £50 a side, on November 5; and the final deposit, of £100 a side, on November 26, at Mr. W. Richardson’s, “Blue Anchor,” as above, when the men shall mutually agree to the place of fighting. The said deposits to be made between the hours of eight and ten p.m. on the days and at the houses named; either party failing, to forfeit the money down. The houses at which the deposits shall be made shall be named by each party alternately, and to be made in London. The place of the next deposit to be named as the staking of the previous one, Heenan having to name the place of the third deposit. The men to be in the ring between the hours of ten a.m. and one p.m. on the day named, or the man absent to forfeit the money. But, in the event of magisterial interference, the referee shall decide the next place and time of meeting, the same day, if possible. The expenses of the ropes and stakes shall be borne mutually. Mr. Dowling, the Editor ofBell’s Life in London, to be referee. Two umpires to be chosen on the ground; and, in case of dispute between them, the decision of the referee to be final.“In pursuance of this agreement, we hereunto attach our names—“John Camel Heenan.“Charles Bush, for Thomas King.“Witness:H. A. Reed.”
“Articles of Agreemententered into this 17th day of March, 1863, between John Camel Heenan and Thomas King. The said John Camel Heenan agrees to fight the said Thomas King a fair stand-up fight, according to the new rules of the ring, by which the said John Camel Heenan and the said Thomas King hereby agree to be bound. The said fight shall be for the sum of £1,000 a side, and shall take place on the 8th day of December, 1863, within 100 miles of London. In pursuance of this agreement, £100 a side are now depositedin the hands of Mr. John Coney, who shall transmit the same to the Editor ofBell’s Life, who shall be final stakeholder; the second deposit, of £50 a side, shall be made at Mr. W. Richardson’s, “Blue Anchor,” Shoreditch, on Thursday, March 26; the third, of £50 a side, to be made on April 9; the fourth, of £50 a side, on April 23; the fifth, of £50 a side, on May 7; the sixth, of £50 a side, on May 21; the seventh, of £50 a side, on June 4; the eighth, of £50 a side, on June 18; the ninth, of £50 a side, on July 2; the tenth, of £50 a side, on July 16; the eleventh, of £50 a side, on July 30; the twelfth, of £50 a side, on August 13; the thirteenth, of £50 a side, on August 27; the fourteenth, of £50 a side, on September 10; the fifteenth, of £50 a side, on September 24; the sixteenth, of £50 a side, on October 27; the seventeenth, of £50 a side, on November 5; and the final deposit, of £100 a side, on November 26, at Mr. W. Richardson’s, “Blue Anchor,” as above, when the men shall mutually agree to the place of fighting. The said deposits to be made between the hours of eight and ten p.m. on the days and at the houses named; either party failing, to forfeit the money down. The houses at which the deposits shall be made shall be named by each party alternately, and to be made in London. The place of the next deposit to be named as the staking of the previous one, Heenan having to name the place of the third deposit. The men to be in the ring between the hours of ten a.m. and one p.m. on the day named, or the man absent to forfeit the money. But, in the event of magisterial interference, the referee shall decide the next place and time of meeting, the same day, if possible. The expenses of the ropes and stakes shall be borne mutually. Mr. Dowling, the Editor ofBell’s Life in London, to be referee. Two umpires to be chosen on the ground; and, in case of dispute between them, the decision of the referee to be final.
“In pursuance of this agreement, we hereunto attach our names—
“John Camel Heenan.
“Charles Bush, for Thomas King.
“Witness:H. A. Reed.”
The match made, each man at once proceeded to make trading capital out of it by travelling the provinces, and this at first led to a belief that the match would never come to anything, but was merely got up for this purpose. On the other hand it was asserted, that the match was sure to come off, but the result had been cut and dried; that the backers of the men intended to make a trading speculation out of the “Special” which was to convey the belligerents to the scene of action. It was known that a sum of more than £1000 had been divided between Sayers and Heenan out of the profits of the train for their match, and the supposition was, perhaps, not unnatural that £500 would be very good interest upon £100 for a few months, setting aside the off chance of something else turning up into the bargain. As the day approached for the men to go into training fears as to the affair not being genuine quickly subsided, and in racing circles the match created much interest, numerous bets of 6 to 4 being laid on the Benicia Boy, whose appearance at Newmarket during the October Meetings fully justified the confidence reposed in him. Heenan took his breathings almost entirely at Newmarket in company with his own brother Jem, and Macdonald, but required very little, if any, looking after. His feats as a pedestrian during his work were something extraordinary, six miles and a “bittock” did he generally turn in ordinary walking, and many a spin and a tie up did he give to some of our crack jocks, among whom are to be found no mean specimens of fair toe-and-heel walkers. Jack’s spins at the top of his speed, too, not a little astonished the Browns, andwe have been credibly informed he could on a pinch do his quarter in 56 seconds—not bad for a 14 stone man, standing nearly 6 feet 2 inches. When stripped his frame was a model for a sculptor. Every muscle was developed to a gigantic size, every tendon and sinew was distinctly visible; and, taken altogether, we doubt whether such a specimen of a Hurculean frame has been witnessed in the BritishP. R.for very many years. That Heenan possessed every confidence in himself may be gathered from the fact that some three weeks previously he sent a message to the stakeholder, requesting him to state that if he did not lick King the public ought to stigmatise him as the greatest impostor who ever entered the Ring. The Editor tells us that he declined to insert this statement at the time, as not being fair to either party, and considering that should the result justify the observation it would be time enough to make it when the battle was over. Heenan, as may be recollected, was born in 1834, at Troy, United States, of Irish parents. His fighting weight on stripping on the present occasion was, as near as possible, 14 stone 2lb.
As the time of battle drew near the difficulties of a mode of transit to the ground increased. One after another refusals of accommodation were returned, the powers and authorities having experienced the disorders which seemed inseparable from the gathering of such a crowd as had now made it a custom to gather on such an occasion. During Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday, the offices of the sporting newspapers, to say nothing of the “houses of call” for sporting men, were besieged by questioners; but beyond the fact that tickets at three sovereigns a head were procurable, no definite tip was to be had.
Tuesday evening was a night of festivity at all sporting pubs. The public fully believing that on the following morning the mill would come off, and all being agog to get the necessary tip. It was not until well into the small hours that many would believe that Wednesday was not the day. The same scene was repeated on Wednesday, with the exception that delay had doubled the excitement, and the houses, which on Tuesday were crammed, were on the following night well nigh overwhelmed, and the ordinary business could scarcely be transacted. At Owen Swift’s much anxiety was expressed as to whether a bet of £600 to £400 appointed to be put down the night before the fight would really be forthcoming, certain half-sceptics pinning their faith on this ceremony as calculated to prove the genuine nature of the match. It was also expected it would materially affect the betting, many considering that the staking would show suchconfidence on the part of King’s backers as would justify his being backed for money.
On our arrival at London Bridge Station a few minutes before five in the morning, we found that the “rasping” division had dwindled away to an insignificant few. The fact is, the busy tongue of rumour had sent them so often to the various stations on a Will o’ the Wisp errand, that the detrimentals were completely tired out, and, after the lesson of Tuesday and Wednesday nights, without anything turning up, they denounced the whole affair as “a sell,” and stayed at home. Never was a secret of such a kind better kept, and the wide-awakes who “knew the exact spot to a yard,” found themselves neck deep in the mire, after a fashion they little calculated on; the cut-purse family wiping the frosty icicles from their noses in the west, when they should have been looking out for squalls in the South Eastern horizon. The delightful result was that the congregation of the fistic art passed through the thin dark line of worn and weary snapper-badgers. The arrangements of the legitimate “conveyancers” were most excellent; everybody was comfortably “taken in and done for,” whilst the presence of the ring-constable volunteers set the foot of authority down with a crash upon all attemps at “rigging the market.” In fact, one might have thought that he was going to see an early ploughing match, whilst the “Yahoo” business didn’t rise as high as the song of an old tea-kettle. Indeed, that ugly element was wise in the course it was constrained to adopt; had it done otherwise there was force enough present to have brought every atom of it to grief. Both the men reached the ground in good time, and both had their fair quantity of supporters, who would persist in blocking up each carriage door, so that the entrance of a breath of air was almost next to an impossibility.
The train consisted of thirty carriages, in each of which, to use a theatrical phrase, there was not standing room. We were “horsed” by two powerful engines, and, at about a quarter past six glided out of the station without the least confusion, and with the greatest regularity. The morning stars were just beginning to show signs of that glimmering faintness which indicates the approach of daybreak. Once the train got in motion, not a sound was to be heard save the outburst of some occasional hearty laugh at the jocularity going on inside. But even this was of the mildest possible character, and there was an entire absence of that reprehensible boisterous outpouring which has too often awoke the slumbering people along the route, filling their half-dreamy imaginations with the horror that thePhilistines were upon them. We were more than half afraid that the new plan of paying at the doors would have been productive of the direst confusion, but our apprehensions were agreeably dispelled.
On casting a quiet running glance through the interior of each carriage, before we started, we found the genuine patrons of our national manly “trial by battle” in very strong force indeed. We heard one and all join in a universal chorus of satisfaction at the way in which we had been “got off.” On and on we rolled through the fair county of Kent, and as the grey dawn of morning rose eastward on our track the mild fresh breeze played upon our half-sleepy faces, waking us up to a sense of life and activity that was as agreeable as it was invigorating. The morning was beautiful and mild, and away now to our left the bright blue-tinged light of early day could be seen breaking gently and softly, widening and lengthening as it imperceptibly spread over the landscape in a manner that would have excited the admiration of a Gainsborough or a Creswick. Still on and onward we go through deep cuttings and over high embankment; anon the iron horses slacken their speed, and the next instant the reverberating sounds of our whirling wheels tell us that we are passing through the bowels of mother earth. On emerging from the tunnel into open country our ears were saluted with voices that unmistakably marked the owners as denizens of the aristocratic regions west of Regent Street. Speculation made itself heard, and 6 and 7 to 4 on the Benicia Boy seemed to be the chorus of the song. Just as we could distinguish houses and buildings sufficiently, the train glided noiselessly into Reigate Junction, where we were “regaled” by the sight of a strong covey of early “blue birds” belonging to the Surrey County Constabulary. It is needless to say that they were not there on our invitation. We considered them more free than welcome, and following the prudent and time-honoured example of those philosophic predecessors of theirs, Masters Dogberry and Verges of blessed memory, we stole ourselves out of their company with all possible alacrity and despatch. A thin white frosty veil of mist floated over the landscape as we again got in full swing, whilst the leaden coloured clouds as they lay heavy and motionless overhead gave us cause for grave anxiety, but, as our fears were rising to an uncomfortable grade on our nervous thermometer, in we rushed to another tunnel. When we issued forth we made a series of weatherwise surveys all round us, and were joyed to find the dark curtain lifting evenly and gradually up on our right, whilst on the opposite side bright broken patches encouraged our most earnest hopes,Another turn of the steam valve, and away we sped at over forty miles an hour; wood and dell, hamlet and village, cottage and mansion flew by like the magic of the kaleidoscope, and the question of our journey’s end took the place of other topics for the moment. A few miles further on and we shot by Tunbridge Wells. By this time we could see that the “bold peasantry” were discussing their breakfast, but as we rattled on at the rate of a mile a minute and a half, we did not take particular notice of what they ate. At length we drew up in a secluded and well-selected spot, where we got out, yawned, stretched ourselves, and gulped in the sharp morning air most voraciously. On account of the extreme softness of the ground it was some time before a decent place could be found. At this hour, about a quarter past nine o’clock, the sun was shining out as magnificently as on a fine May morning, and as we toiled some mile and a half up a steep clayey hill, the “stuff” was taken out of many. At length a chosen spot was taken possession of, and the ring pitched in a field at Wadhurst, near Frant, below Tunbridge Wells. King first dropped in his castor, amid loud cheers, accompanied by Jerry Noon and Bos Tyler, and was immediately followed by Heenan, who was similarly received, being esquired by Jack Macdonald, and, for the sake of theatrical effect, Tom Sayers. Colours were now unfolded on both sides, and the combatants began to dress. The choice of ground was won by Heenan, and then came the referee. Some wrangling here took place in respect to that functionary, during which the betting went on with offers at 40 to 20,&c.on Heenan, but there did not seem to be any takers. Confusion now became the ruling element, wasting away precious time on the top of a hill that could be seen for twenty miles around. There were the men and their seconds ready, while the referee was expected to come from the clouds. Three quarters of an hour was spent in this way before matters were finally closed, and the referee originally proposed was ultimately agreed to. The men then began the important duty of the toilet, and in the hands of their respective valets that operation was soon completed. The ring was then cleared, and the men showed themselves ready in battle array. Heenan was the first to exhibit, mid the loud cheers of his admirers, and was instantly followed by King, for whom another salvo rose up from the throats of his party. Exactly at ten o’clock the men were delivered at the scratch, shook hands, and prepared to commence
THE FIGHT.Round 1.—As the men advanced towards the centre of the ring the first glance seemed to show how great were the physical advantages of Heenan, who looked quite the stone heavier man he really was—King being comparatively a fair-skinned stripling; but a closer inspection revealed a jaded appearance. He looked clumsier altogether than when he fought Sayers. King, on the contrary, was as well as ever he could be, and there was a bloom and healthfulness about him, which spoke not only of steady training, but of an unvitiated constitution. He had not altogether the cut of a professional pugilist, but would rather be described as a fine, fresh, good-looking young countryman. The men threw themselves into attitude, and opened the round with a little sparring, but there was a hurried, not to say nervous, manner about each of them, which indicated that the scientific display would not be very prolonged. Heenan led off once or twice, but was not close enough. King was equally out of distance in trying to return. At last they got nearer, and exchanged good counter-hits. A couple more heavy hits were given, and King was drawing back to take up fresh ground, when Heenan plunged desperately at him, and got his left arm round his neck; the impetus of his rush carrying them both to the ropes. Here Heenan sought to fix his man in the dangerous manner he had practised with Sayers, but King’s strength enabled him to wrench himself up, and, locked together, they wrestled back to the centre of the ring. Here Heenan hung upon his man, squeezing him tightly, and trying to force him down. King, whose arms were at liberty, hit him heavily about the body left and right, until he fell, dragging Heenan with him, but the Yankee was uppermost. (The referee here entered the ring and cautioned Heenan as to his “hugging” system, which was certainly an unsightly mode of attack.)2.—Both men were somewhat flushed about the head from the previous round, and King appeared a little distressed from the severe struggle. He was urged to be first with his man, and led off directly he came to the scratch. He got well home on Heenan’s head; the latter countered, but without much precision, and some wild but heavy exchanges took place with both hands, King dealing the Yankee a severe blow on the mouth. Tom was pressing his man, when Heenan made a dash at him, and showing great superiority in strength, after a few seconds of squeezing, threw him heavily, a very dangerous fall, coming with all his weight upon him. (First bloodwas here given to King; Heenan’s lips being cut and bleeding.)3.—King seemed anxious to keep away from his man spar; there was no doubt that he was already considerably shaken by the severe falls he had received. Heenan appeared more anxious to seize a favourable chance to grasp his man than to hit him. After a moment’s pause they got together, and lashed out heavily with the left, each getting home. This led to some more exchanges, desperately heavy, it is true, but made in a wild style, and not like two finished boxers. Heenan again plunged in, King meeting him heavily as he came, but he grappled Tom, and again brought him down with shattering force across the lower rope, which was pressed to the ground. Luckily the ground was not hard. (Unpleasant as was Heenan’s style of fighting, he was considered to be getting the best of the battle, as King evidently could not resist his rush and clinching throw.)4.—King’s left eye was marked with a mouse, but otherwise he did not show much signs of punishment. The rounds were all short ones, Heenan forcing his way in upon King, a few slashing exchanges; then King was once more caught in the hug, and thrown a desperate fall. (Great disapprobation of Heenan’s style of fighting—if fighting it could be called. His hugging and squeezing was far worse than even in Sayers’s fight.)5.—King was as ready at the call of “time” as his antagonist, yet evidently felt the falls he was receiving, and sparred a bit for wind. Heenan was distressed also, and glad of a pause. They worked round a bit until they got near, when King, with the swiftness of lightning, dealt the Yankee a terrific hit in the middle of the head with his right, almost knocking him off his legs, and drawing streams of claret from a cut on his mouth. It was nearly a floorer, and on Heenan trying a return, King cross-countered very heavily on the side of the head. Heenan was for a moment at a standstill, and King led off again, but was out of distance, and the Yankee again “clinching”—we must borrow an Americanism which expresses more than our word “closing”—succeeded in once more putting on the “hug” and throwing King heavily; though he pitched over him so far as to strike the ground with his own head.6.—The fighting had been wild enough before, but in this round there was no attempt at precision or steadiness. The men punched—or punched at—one another wildly, King getting the best of what hitting did tell, till Heenan closed, and, getting his regular grip, flung King a burster.7.—The men went to work directly they faced each other, and in a slogging rally some really terrific hitting was given and taken. They broke away, but only for a few seconds, when they got together with more tremendous exchanges, yet still to the advantageof King, who allowed what little science was exhibited, and hit straightest. By a desperate snorter with his right, during this rally, he drew a fresh burst of crimson. Heenan closed in the hitting, hugged his man viciously, and then threw him one of the heaviest cross-buttocks seen for many a day. It was a crusher, and King lay for a few seconds until his seconds picked him up and bore him to his corner.8.—King, to the delight of his friends, came up promptly; although he was piping a little, he seemed marvellously little hurt by these continuous throws. Heenan was ready to fight to improve his supposed advantage, and the men exchanged stinging counters directly they faced each other, and heavy exchanges followed. Heenan dashed in as usual to seize his man, but on this occasion he was foiled, for King caught him in his arms; and, after a moment’s struggle, threw the Yankee heavily and fell on him. (This was a fair, unmistakable back fall and the cheering for King was tremendous.)9.—Heenan looked vexed as he came up; he had plainly made up his mind to recover his wrestling superiority, and tried for an opening. King was with him, and met him left and right; then, getting away again, planted on him with tremendous effect as he came in, catching his man well in the middle of the head; and now and then, in each of the rounds, giving a home hit on the body. Heenan at last got in, squeezed his man savagely, and again threw him a shattering fall.10.—The wildest and fastest of fighting still continued, in fact, the rally more resembled a “turn-up” of two angry navvies than the tactics of skilled boxers. The exchanges were of the severest description, although most of the blows seemed given at random. Heenan was wholly bent on throwing, and once more hugged King and threw him.11.—Heenan showed that the pace was telling on him, and it was doubtful whether he was not taking almost as much out of himself by his desperate struggles to throw King, as he was out of King by the falls. He persevered in his wrestling game, however, for hardly an attempt was made at a blow in this round before he grappled with King, and brought him over.12.—Tom was a little more on his guard this time, and led off; Heenan returned, and a few seconds of very hard fighting took place, both men being hit severely about the head till they closed, when King again succeeded in turning the tables, and threw Heenan heavily.13.—Although this round began with some countering which looked very heavy, yet Heenan’s blows did not, as a rule, tell very much; and when his seconds sent him up King looked clean, and comparatively free from punishment. Heenan again gave his man the hug, and threw him. After this round Heenan’s left hand became gradually of less service to him.14.—Heenan feinted with his left, and threw in a smasher on the head with his right. King stuck to him, but after some stinging exchanges, in which he had the best, he was thrown—one of the most tremendous cross-buttocks ever seen—and so stunned and shaken was King, that but for the tact and presence of mind of Jerry Noon, it is doubtful if he could have come to time.15.—In spite of the very heavy falls being nearly always in his favour, Heenan was now almost as much distressed as King, and the punishment given was certainly much against him. After a little sparring, heavy counters were exchanged, and then three or four smashing hits left and right, without a semblance of stopping or avoiding. Heenan drew back a little, and then lunging tremendously with his right, nailed King with such terrific force that he staggered and went down. (This wasfirst knock-down blowin favour of Heenan, and was one at the few clean hits he delivered or even attempted to deliver during the fight.)16.—Although slower than before in answering the call of “time,” King came resolutely up, and did not seem greatly shaken by the knock-down blow. Indeed, Heenan appeared worse from the effects of the last round than did his opponent, as King had planted so heavily on his left eye that it was badly cut and nearly closed. In some more heavy punching—pure slogging give-and-take, without any show of science—Heenan’s eye was quite shut up, and he showed some decided signs of weakness. King dashed in, and, after an exhausting struggle, forced him down.17.—In this round Heenan again got the fall; but it was for the last time. He was evidently falling off; and when once his superiority in strength or wrestling power was gone he seemed useless and almost helpless as a boxer. King hit him tremendously about the side of the head and on the eyes, and it appeared as if Heenan would soon be blind. However, as just said, he clutched King desperately, and threw him one of the hardest falls in the fight. But it was his last effort, and while he became visibly weaker every minute, King, strange to say, seemed little the worse.18.—There was at first some fear that the ring would be broken in; for the intense excitement among the outer crowd had induced a rush, which broke through the lukewarm resistance of the constables, and brought the mass up to the ropes. Luckily, however, nothing came of it. Heenan, thinking he had shaken King more than was really the case, and probably feeling that he was growing exhausted himself, rushed furiously at his man to improve his advantage. King, however, who had quickly recovered himself, met him with a couple of hits left and right, stopping the Yankee’s rush, andwhile he was yet on the stagger King closed, and, giving him the crook, pitched him over, and tell on him with stunning force.19.—Heenan came up rather hurriedly when time was called, but it was at once seen that he was almost beaten, and was quite groggy. He tried his rush, but it was no longer dangerous, and King stepped back twice, measured his distance, planted on him without a return, and, by a second straight hit, sent him down. In the 20th round King managed to back-heel Heenan. The same description applies to the next two rounds, excepting that in each of them Heenan grew shakier and wilder, and King’s superiority more marked. At the commencement of the 23rd round it was proposed to throw up the sponge, but Heenan would not hear of it, and staggered at his man with the semblance of his former rush. He staggered after receiving a blow, and was thrown by King without a chance of resisting. His backers, seeing that it was hopeless, and that it was only exposing the sinking boxer to punishment, insisted on his surrender, and the sponge was thrown up in token of defeat, after a desperate, but slashing, hugging, and unscientific battle ofthirty-five minutes, and twenty-four rounds.Remarks.—We may well spare any lengthened comment upon a contest the leading characteristics of which were “clinching,” rushing, squeezing, and attempts at strangulating hugs on the one side, and wild, desperate sledge-hammer defensive hitting on the other. Heenan proved beyond doubt or cavil that he did not deserve to rank in the first or even second rank of artistic boxers, and that sheer brute strength, seconded by weight, stature, and a certain amount of mere animal courage were his only qualifications. He seemed to have little idea of sparring for an opening, or as a means of defence; while the use of the skilful feints, well-timed delivery, or accurate measurement of distance, of getting close and then getting away, as practised by professional boxers, he ignored or despised. It was not the fault of Tom King that the fight was so bad. His form and style were far the better of the two, for he did not trust to mere wrestling and hauling his man about, and would have made a better show of tactics with a better man. Those flatterers who told Heenan that he could stand a comparison with King’s former opponent, Jem Mace, must have been grossly ignorant or wilfully deceived themselves. Few who saw this contest but felt, that it was solely the accident which so early in the battle disabled the gallant Tom Sayers’s right arm, had prevented the signal defeat of Heenan on the memorable day at Farnborough. King showed but few marks of severe hitting after the fight, nor was he so seriously exhausted by the falls as might have been expected, considering the weight and stature of both men. On the other hand, Heenan was seriously disfigured, indeed, utterly prostrate, and nearly blinded at the close of the encounter. Altogether, while an honest and game fight, it was an unsatisfactory one; the sole point settled being the entire absence, on the part of Heenan, of those scientific attainments and steady attributes indispensable to the successful practitioner in the Prize Ring. The immense stake, £2,000, so glaringly disproportionate to the merits of the battle, was duly paid over to King. For the circumstance of the appearance of the once formidable Tom Sayers at the ring-side, as second to his former antagonist, John Heenan, the reader is referred to pages 435 and 436 of the present volume.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—As the men advanced towards the centre of the ring the first glance seemed to show how great were the physical advantages of Heenan, who looked quite the stone heavier man he really was—King being comparatively a fair-skinned stripling; but a closer inspection revealed a jaded appearance. He looked clumsier altogether than when he fought Sayers. King, on the contrary, was as well as ever he could be, and there was a bloom and healthfulness about him, which spoke not only of steady training, but of an unvitiated constitution. He had not altogether the cut of a professional pugilist, but would rather be described as a fine, fresh, good-looking young countryman. The men threw themselves into attitude, and opened the round with a little sparring, but there was a hurried, not to say nervous, manner about each of them, which indicated that the scientific display would not be very prolonged. Heenan led off once or twice, but was not close enough. King was equally out of distance in trying to return. At last they got nearer, and exchanged good counter-hits. A couple more heavy hits were given, and King was drawing back to take up fresh ground, when Heenan plunged desperately at him, and got his left arm round his neck; the impetus of his rush carrying them both to the ropes. Here Heenan sought to fix his man in the dangerous manner he had practised with Sayers, but King’s strength enabled him to wrench himself up, and, locked together, they wrestled back to the centre of the ring. Here Heenan hung upon his man, squeezing him tightly, and trying to force him down. King, whose arms were at liberty, hit him heavily about the body left and right, until he fell, dragging Heenan with him, but the Yankee was uppermost. (The referee here entered the ring and cautioned Heenan as to his “hugging” system, which was certainly an unsightly mode of attack.)
2.—Both men were somewhat flushed about the head from the previous round, and King appeared a little distressed from the severe struggle. He was urged to be first with his man, and led off directly he came to the scratch. He got well home on Heenan’s head; the latter countered, but without much precision, and some wild but heavy exchanges took place with both hands, King dealing the Yankee a severe blow on the mouth. Tom was pressing his man, when Heenan made a dash at him, and showing great superiority in strength, after a few seconds of squeezing, threw him heavily, a very dangerous fall, coming with all his weight upon him. (First bloodwas here given to King; Heenan’s lips being cut and bleeding.)
3.—King seemed anxious to keep away from his man spar; there was no doubt that he was already considerably shaken by the severe falls he had received. Heenan appeared more anxious to seize a favourable chance to grasp his man than to hit him. After a moment’s pause they got together, and lashed out heavily with the left, each getting home. This led to some more exchanges, desperately heavy, it is true, but made in a wild style, and not like two finished boxers. Heenan again plunged in, King meeting him heavily as he came, but he grappled Tom, and again brought him down with shattering force across the lower rope, which was pressed to the ground. Luckily the ground was not hard. (Unpleasant as was Heenan’s style of fighting, he was considered to be getting the best of the battle, as King evidently could not resist his rush and clinching throw.)
4.—King’s left eye was marked with a mouse, but otherwise he did not show much signs of punishment. The rounds were all short ones, Heenan forcing his way in upon King, a few slashing exchanges; then King was once more caught in the hug, and thrown a desperate fall. (Great disapprobation of Heenan’s style of fighting—if fighting it could be called. His hugging and squeezing was far worse than even in Sayers’s fight.)
5.—King was as ready at the call of “time” as his antagonist, yet evidently felt the falls he was receiving, and sparred a bit for wind. Heenan was distressed also, and glad of a pause. They worked round a bit until they got near, when King, with the swiftness of lightning, dealt the Yankee a terrific hit in the middle of the head with his right, almost knocking him off his legs, and drawing streams of claret from a cut on his mouth. It was nearly a floorer, and on Heenan trying a return, King cross-countered very heavily on the side of the head. Heenan was for a moment at a standstill, and King led off again, but was out of distance, and the Yankee again “clinching”—we must borrow an Americanism which expresses more than our word “closing”—succeeded in once more putting on the “hug” and throwing King heavily; though he pitched over him so far as to strike the ground with his own head.
6.—The fighting had been wild enough before, but in this round there was no attempt at precision or steadiness. The men punched—or punched at—one another wildly, King getting the best of what hitting did tell, till Heenan closed, and, getting his regular grip, flung King a burster.
7.—The men went to work directly they faced each other, and in a slogging rally some really terrific hitting was given and taken. They broke away, but only for a few seconds, when they got together with more tremendous exchanges, yet still to the advantageof King, who allowed what little science was exhibited, and hit straightest. By a desperate snorter with his right, during this rally, he drew a fresh burst of crimson. Heenan closed in the hitting, hugged his man viciously, and then threw him one of the heaviest cross-buttocks seen for many a day. It was a crusher, and King lay for a few seconds until his seconds picked him up and bore him to his corner.
8.—King, to the delight of his friends, came up promptly; although he was piping a little, he seemed marvellously little hurt by these continuous throws. Heenan was ready to fight to improve his supposed advantage, and the men exchanged stinging counters directly they faced each other, and heavy exchanges followed. Heenan dashed in as usual to seize his man, but on this occasion he was foiled, for King caught him in his arms; and, after a moment’s struggle, threw the Yankee heavily and fell on him. (This was a fair, unmistakable back fall and the cheering for King was tremendous.)
9.—Heenan looked vexed as he came up; he had plainly made up his mind to recover his wrestling superiority, and tried for an opening. King was with him, and met him left and right; then, getting away again, planted on him with tremendous effect as he came in, catching his man well in the middle of the head; and now and then, in each of the rounds, giving a home hit on the body. Heenan at last got in, squeezed his man savagely, and again threw him a shattering fall.
10.—The wildest and fastest of fighting still continued, in fact, the rally more resembled a “turn-up” of two angry navvies than the tactics of skilled boxers. The exchanges were of the severest description, although most of the blows seemed given at random. Heenan was wholly bent on throwing, and once more hugged King and threw him.
11.—Heenan showed that the pace was telling on him, and it was doubtful whether he was not taking almost as much out of himself by his desperate struggles to throw King, as he was out of King by the falls. He persevered in his wrestling game, however, for hardly an attempt was made at a blow in this round before he grappled with King, and brought him over.
12.—Tom was a little more on his guard this time, and led off; Heenan returned, and a few seconds of very hard fighting took place, both men being hit severely about the head till they closed, when King again succeeded in turning the tables, and threw Heenan heavily.
13.—Although this round began with some countering which looked very heavy, yet Heenan’s blows did not, as a rule, tell very much; and when his seconds sent him up King looked clean, and comparatively free from punishment. Heenan again gave his man the hug, and threw him. After this round Heenan’s left hand became gradually of less service to him.
14.—Heenan feinted with his left, and threw in a smasher on the head with his right. King stuck to him, but after some stinging exchanges, in which he had the best, he was thrown—one of the most tremendous cross-buttocks ever seen—and so stunned and shaken was King, that but for the tact and presence of mind of Jerry Noon, it is doubtful if he could have come to time.
15.—In spite of the very heavy falls being nearly always in his favour, Heenan was now almost as much distressed as King, and the punishment given was certainly much against him. After a little sparring, heavy counters were exchanged, and then three or four smashing hits left and right, without a semblance of stopping or avoiding. Heenan drew back a little, and then lunging tremendously with his right, nailed King with such terrific force that he staggered and went down. (This wasfirst knock-down blowin favour of Heenan, and was one at the few clean hits he delivered or even attempted to deliver during the fight.)
16.—Although slower than before in answering the call of “time,” King came resolutely up, and did not seem greatly shaken by the knock-down blow. Indeed, Heenan appeared worse from the effects of the last round than did his opponent, as King had planted so heavily on his left eye that it was badly cut and nearly closed. In some more heavy punching—pure slogging give-and-take, without any show of science—Heenan’s eye was quite shut up, and he showed some decided signs of weakness. King dashed in, and, after an exhausting struggle, forced him down.
17.—In this round Heenan again got the fall; but it was for the last time. He was evidently falling off; and when once his superiority in strength or wrestling power was gone he seemed useless and almost helpless as a boxer. King hit him tremendously about the side of the head and on the eyes, and it appeared as if Heenan would soon be blind. However, as just said, he clutched King desperately, and threw him one of the hardest falls in the fight. But it was his last effort, and while he became visibly weaker every minute, King, strange to say, seemed little the worse.
18.—There was at first some fear that the ring would be broken in; for the intense excitement among the outer crowd had induced a rush, which broke through the lukewarm resistance of the constables, and brought the mass up to the ropes. Luckily, however, nothing came of it. Heenan, thinking he had shaken King more than was really the case, and probably feeling that he was growing exhausted himself, rushed furiously at his man to improve his advantage. King, however, who had quickly recovered himself, met him with a couple of hits left and right, stopping the Yankee’s rush, andwhile he was yet on the stagger King closed, and, giving him the crook, pitched him over, and tell on him with stunning force.
19.—Heenan came up rather hurriedly when time was called, but it was at once seen that he was almost beaten, and was quite groggy. He tried his rush, but it was no longer dangerous, and King stepped back twice, measured his distance, planted on him without a return, and, by a second straight hit, sent him down. In the 20th round King managed to back-heel Heenan. The same description applies to the next two rounds, excepting that in each of them Heenan grew shakier and wilder, and King’s superiority more marked. At the commencement of the 23rd round it was proposed to throw up the sponge, but Heenan would not hear of it, and staggered at his man with the semblance of his former rush. He staggered after receiving a blow, and was thrown by King without a chance of resisting. His backers, seeing that it was hopeless, and that it was only exposing the sinking boxer to punishment, insisted on his surrender, and the sponge was thrown up in token of defeat, after a desperate, but slashing, hugging, and unscientific battle ofthirty-five minutes, and twenty-four rounds.
Remarks.—We may well spare any lengthened comment upon a contest the leading characteristics of which were “clinching,” rushing, squeezing, and attempts at strangulating hugs on the one side, and wild, desperate sledge-hammer defensive hitting on the other. Heenan proved beyond doubt or cavil that he did not deserve to rank in the first or even second rank of artistic boxers, and that sheer brute strength, seconded by weight, stature, and a certain amount of mere animal courage were his only qualifications. He seemed to have little idea of sparring for an opening, or as a means of defence; while the use of the skilful feints, well-timed delivery, or accurate measurement of distance, of getting close and then getting away, as practised by professional boxers, he ignored or despised. It was not the fault of Tom King that the fight was so bad. His form and style were far the better of the two, for he did not trust to mere wrestling and hauling his man about, and would have made a better show of tactics with a better man. Those flatterers who told Heenan that he could stand a comparison with King’s former opponent, Jem Mace, must have been grossly ignorant or wilfully deceived themselves. Few who saw this contest but felt, that it was solely the accident which so early in the battle disabled the gallant Tom Sayers’s right arm, had prevented the signal defeat of Heenan on the memorable day at Farnborough. King showed but few marks of severe hitting after the fight, nor was he so seriously exhausted by the falls as might have been expected, considering the weight and stature of both men. On the other hand, Heenan was seriously disfigured, indeed, utterly prostrate, and nearly blinded at the close of the encounter. Altogether, while an honest and game fight, it was an unsatisfactory one; the sole point settled being the entire absence, on the part of Heenan, of those scientific attainments and steady attributes indispensable to the successful practitioner in the Prize Ring. The immense stake, £2,000, so glaringly disproportionate to the merits of the battle, was duly paid over to King. For the circumstance of the appearance of the once formidable Tom Sayers at the ring-side, as second to his former antagonist, John Heenan, the reader is referred to pages 435 and 436 of the present volume.
Again, and for the last time, Tom King announced his retirement from professional pugilism; we shall not, therefore, follow him into private life farther than to say, that he has carried with him the respect he earned by his public career, and that the last we heard of him was that he had earned the peaceful distinction of a prizeman, as a successful cultivator of flowers at horticultural shows, held in the neighbourhood of his suburban dwelling. And here we legitimately close the task we voluntarily imposed on ourself, of committing to the press the history ofOne Hundred and Forty-four Years of British Boxing.
[41]As an example of the way Ring affairs were managed, we may note that, after 21 rounds in one hour and a quarter, the police really did come; that the men met the next day, January 1, 1862, and the police, after three rounds in 17 minutes, again appeared, there being strong ground for suspicion that they were sent for by telegram. Brettle having sprained his ankle, a postponement was granted until March, and then they met (the bet of £300 being off), and after four rounds, occupying one hour and 40 minutes, the referee gave them 15 minutes to strike a blow; but as one wouldn’t and t’other didn’t, a “draw” was declared, March 11, 1862.