Chapter XXVIII: Appendix: To Period VII

Of the numerous pugilistic pretenders who did battle during the years comprised between the Championships of Bendigo and that of Harry Broome, few deserve the honour of a separate memoir, or even of a recapitulation of their battles. The best of the fights, indeed, may be safely credited to the middle and light-weight men, who were, by their class, excluded from competing with the big ones for the Championship.

Of these, Hammer Lane, Jem Wharton (Young Molyneaux), Johnny Broome, Johnny Hannan, Owen Swift, Ned Adams, Mike Madden, Bill Hayes, Donnelly, and others, will be found in the Author’s “Recollections of the Ring,” to which the reader is referred. Here it is proposed to insert, with a brief notice, the best battle of such heavy-weights as appear in these pages as the antagonists of the men whose biographies are included in this Period.

I.――BRASSEY (JOHN LEECHMAN), OF BRADFORD, AND YOUNG LANGAN, OF LIVERPOOL, FOR £100.

In the Memoir of CAUNT (_ante_ pp. 60-69) will be found the details of Brassey’s gallant contest with the gigantic Champion, October 26th, 1840. That John Leechman had fair pretentions to be selected by his patrons to do battle with “Big Ben,” the subjoined account of his fight with Young Langan, of Liverpool, in the October of the previous year, will show.

John Leechman, whose height was six feet, and weight 12st. 7lbs., was born at Bradford, in Yorkshire, on the 1st of January, 1815. His first battle, recorded in “Fistiana,” was in 1831, when, at the age of 16, he defeated one Thomas Hartley, at Eccles Moor, near Leeds, after a tough fight of an hour and a quarter. On August 24th, in the same year, he took the same time to batter one Ned Batterson, in 72 rounds. He then fought, at Harpurhey, near Manchester, in May, 1833, Young Winterflood, of Nottingham, for an hour, when the affair ended in a wrangle. Brassey next met the well-known Jem Bailey, at Baildon Moor, and beat him, on the 24th of April, 1835, in 74 rounds, occupying 2 hours and a quarter; Brassey being at the same time sadly out of condition. Tom Scrutton was also disposed of in 20 minutes, 17 rounds, on January 11th, 1836; and this brings us to Brassey’s battle with the eccentric Bendigo. In the memoir of that boxer (_ante_ pp. 7, 8), will be found the particulars of that defeat, which took place near Sheffield, on the 24th of May, 1836. Brassey’s former antagonist, Jem Bailey, now came out, and demanded a second trial, to which Brassey assented, and the men met at Hales Green, near Pulham, Norfolk. Although Brassey had won the fight in the 71st round, through the indecision or misconduct of the referee, Bailey’s backers raised a dispute, sued the stakeholder, and recovered back their money. We now come to the battle with Young Langan, of Liverpool, which, except his defeat by Tass Parker, is Brassey’s only fight worth preserving.

This contest, which was decided on the 8th of October, 1839, at Woodhead, in Cheshire, excited an unusual degree of interest, not only among the friends of each man, but throughout all sporting circles in Yorkshire, Lancashire and the Midlands. Brassey was trained near Norwich, under the personal superintendence of the veteran Ned Painter, who accompanied his pupil to the scene of action. Langan took his exercise at Bootle, near Liverpool, in company with Tommy Britton, and his condition was pronounced “perfect.” The ring was formed by the Liverpool Commissary, and at 25 minutes past one Brassey, accompanied by Bill Hall, and Gregson Green, the “sporting sweep,” as seconds, threw in his hat, and was quickly followed by Young Langan, amidst loud cheering from the Liverpool contingent. The day was magnificent, the sun shining with splendour, and as Langan lost the toss for corners, Brassey was placed with his face to the north. Each man was near upon 13 stone, but Brassey was a little the taller. An objection having been taken to the length of the spikes in Langan’s shoes, “the Morocco Prince,” who acted as his second, condescended to waive his dignity, and a file being procured, he sat down, and in a most workmanlike style reduced the sharp projections to the dimensions of “sparrowbills.” Again some delay took place in the selection of a referee; this point settled, the men stripped for action. The colours, an orange bandanna for Brassey, and a green and yellow for Langan, being knotted to the stake, at 23 minutes past two the men shook hands and stood up for

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Each advanced to the scratch, Langan cool and
smiling, Brassey looking serious and earnest. After
slight manœuvring, Langan tried his left, and caught
his opponent upon the mug. Brassey was impetuous, as if
his anxiety was outstripping his prudence. He looked
sternly at his antagonist, let fly, and planted two
successive right-handers upon Langan’s
frontispiece――one upon the left eye, and the other on
the potato-trap; a close, and both down. Upon Langan’s
rising “first blood” was claimed for Brassey, which was
perceptible upon Langan’s mouth.

2.――Langan still wore a good-natured smile, while
Brassey appeared serious, and the eagerness which he
displayed was checked by several of his friends, who
saw that although “his soul was in arms and eager for
the fray,” yet a little more of “the better part of
valour――discretion,” might prevent an accident. A
little sparring――Brassey using his arms _à la Bendigo_.
Closer and closer went the men, and a few smart
exchanges took place, when they fell upon the ropes; a
brief struggle ensued, and both went to the ground.

3.――No alteration of moment was to be seen upon either
of the men, except that Langan’s left eye seemed rather
inclined to renounce the plebeian cast, and become “a
swell.” Langan held his right arm upon his breast, and
his left a little advanced; feints from both, when
Langan shot out with his left, caught Brassey upon the
pimple, and sent him to grass. Brassey’s second
objected to this being considered a knock-down blow,
but the referee decided “first knock-down blow” in
favour of Langan.

4.――Brassey came to the scratch with as much eagerness
as ever, and scowled upon his rival. Langan was not
dismayed, and the smile of good-humour, before noticed,
assumed, for an instant, that of derision; he was,
however, cautious, and played about actively. Brassey
tried his right, was well parried, ditto with his left,
when Langan receded a pace or two, and escaped a nasty
one for his nob. Langan tried his luck, when a rapid
bout of in-fighting ensued, which terminated in
Brassey’s being thrown.

5.――Upon “time” being called, Langan marched to the
centre of the ring, and as Brassey did not appear
inclined to advance so far, Langan pointed to the
scratch, as much as to say, “Come to the spot, my boy.”
Brassey kept his station, when Langan “crossed the
Rubicon,” and a long, dodging round took place, each
trying his left mauley occasionally without effect,
until they reached a corner of the ring, when a
slashing rally followed――Brassey down.

6.――Brassey was now more quiet in his demeanour, but
still intent upon mischief; in fact, had he not
softened down the very strong penchant for going in,
which he evinced during the five preceding rounds, it
is questionable whether his eagerness would not have
led him headlong into mischief. Each man eyed the other
with determination, Langan tried his left, no
go――again, it would not fit――again he essayed, and
caught Brassey a good left-hander upon his dial,
receiving a straight left-handed one in return upon his
snuff-box. A quick rally, mutual exchanges, when once
more Brassey fell.

7.――The visit which Brassey had paid to Langan’s snout
was far from pleasant and the claret flowed profusely;
the left eye also of the young Hibernian began to puff,
and increase beyond its natural dimensions. Lengthened
sparring. A close; Langan got away; the men closed
again, when some severe blows from the right and left
took place, the punishment being about equal, and in
the struggle both went down, Langan first on the floor.

8.――The concluding rally of the last round had not been
mere play, for each man’s phisog bore _striking proofs_
of handy work. Brassey was cut over the right eyebrow,
and was bleeding copiously; and Langan’s left was
following suit, except that his wound was under the
eye, and his opponent’s over. Extreme caution was now
the password. Sparring, and no attempt at a single blow
for nearly six minutes, which drew forth some volleys
of hisses at the tardiness of the performers. Two
minutes more elapsed, and no inclination to go to work,
when Langan tried his left, missed, and caught a
tremendous left-hander upon his nut, which, we fancy,
suffered less than his assailant’s knuckles, and
Brassey slipped down.

9.――Langan evidently wished to repay Brassey for his
kindness, and planted two successive right-handers, one
upon his weasand, and the other upon his nob. (Loud
cheers for Langan.) A close, both down.

10.――Sparring and manœuvring (5 to 4 on Langan).
Brassey looked daggers, made a feint with his right,
and made a lunge with his left upon Langan’s body
corporate. Langan quickly tried a right-handed return,
failed, immediately seconded his intention with an
effectual one, when some excellent counters ensued, and
Brassey went down.

11.――The men met, when Brassey dropped his arms
straight down, looked and nodded to his opponent.
Langan maintained his position, and smiled (loud
applause). Protracted sparring. Dodging all round the
ring: another halt; more procrastination. (“Go to
work,” cried the Morocco Prince; I’m tired of this sort
of play.”) All was of no avail, the men still continued
sparring, at last an indifferent rally ended suspense,
and Brassey was thrown. This round lasted sixteen
minutes and a half, and no real work done.

12 and 13.――Mutual returns, with considerable bodily
exertion, both down in the struggle.

14.――Very slight variation from the two last.

15.――Counters. Brassey lunged out, and gave Langan an
effective muzzler, receiving an excellent left-hander
by way of “change,” upon his brow, which set the
crimson flowing. Langan went to his antagonist, when
Brassey slipped and fell.

16.――Langan’s lip began to swell, and the gash under
his left eye still emitted the claret. Brassey’s first
wound was quite dried up, and a stranger might have
pronounced it three or four days old. After a little
sparring, Langan shot out with his left, and fell from
the over-reach of his own blow.

17.――Give and take; Brassey down.

18.――Langan was advancing to the scratch, when some
cowardly rascal pitched a clod at him, which struck him
on the hip, without doing any damage. A tedious round,
when Brassey fell, escaping in his fall a right-handed
upper-cut from Langan’s bunch of fives.

19.――Hit for hit; when Langan, in striking out, as
Brassey jumped back, caught him just below the belt
with his right. An appeal, but the referee decided the
blow to be unintentional, and consequently fair, and
the fight proceeded, Langan getting the worst of the
rally; both down.

20, 21, 22, 23, 24.――All in favour of Brassey. A great
uproar and confusion took place in the last round, in
the outer ring, which threatened an interruption of the
mill, but, after some delay, the tumult was quelled,
and the spectators resumed their stations.

25 to 33.――Each of these rounds were, more or less, in
favour of Brassey, although he was invariably
undermost.

34.――Langan’s frontispiece was sadly disfigured, whilst
Brassey’s was tolerably symmetrical. This may be
accounted for from the fact of Brassey’s flesh not
swelling, nor his wounds remaining fresh, but quickly
assuming the appearance of cuts of some standing. From
this to the 39th round, Langan gradually lost ground,
though he never flinched from fairly meeting his man.

40.――Another uproar in the outer ring, with the
addition of a few heavy clods flying about, the
Liverpool party containing some noisy members. The men
proved themselves good ’uns in reality, for they paid
no attention to the row, but kept to their work, caught
each other’s open left hand, and delivered two terrific
round swinging right-handers upon each other’s corpus.
After some little fibbing Brassey went down, and Langan
rolled over him.

41 to 44.――Brassey was evidently gaining ground, and in
the latter round Langan severely injured his right leg
in falling against a stake, which made him lame for the
remainder of the fight.

45.――Nothing material in this round, except one
dishonourable knave deliberately cutting the rope of
the inner ring, and had it not been for the
praiseworthy activity of little Billy Critchley in
splicing the same, would doubtless have finished the
mill with a wrangle.

46 to 51.――Brassey’s friends were in transports.
Victory was now booked as certain, and the rowdy upon
Brassey could find no takers.

52.――Langan rallied, and up to the 56th round may be
said at intervals to have turned the tide in his own
favour; nay, even bets were loudly proclaimed, but
little tin was sported.

57.――Brassey was evidently at sea, and the Langanites
bawled most lustily. Compliment for compliment, each
party alternately cheering on their man until Brassey
fell.

58 to 62.――Both men fought well and to win. Brassey’s
lower lip had received some stingers from his opponent
in the way of cutting and carving, while Langan’s
phisog was quite the reverse of what Lavater would term
“the exquisite,” strongly reminding us of Kenney
Meadows’s “Gallery” portrait of the “Man wot won the
fight.”

63.――To all appearances it was now extremely doubtful
which would be the victor. Hit for hit――right and
left――give and take――advance and retreat, until both
heroes fell over the ropes and out of the ring.

64.――Brassey came up and lost no time in drawing the
claret from Langan’s right peeper, but slipped down
from exertion.

65.――Langan’s mug was awful, his left ogle nearly
closed, and he looked more languid than in any round
previously; this and the 66th round told against him.

67.――One effort more; Brassey missed his left, Langan
grasped him, and with a vigorous strength which we at
this time thought he did not possess, threw him
heavily.

68.――From this to the 73rd round Langan gradually
continued losing, his left eye being quite closed, his
right much swollen, and his lips as thick as those of
Massa Molyneaux; Brassey seemed recovered, and was
nearly as fresh as ever.

74.――Brassey, bent upon finishing as soon as possible,
met his man, delivered his left, then retreated, and as
Langan stumbled forward, delivered two tremendous
right-handed blows, which felled him to the ground.

75.――Upon time being called, Langan was deaf to the
cry, and Brassey was pronounced the conqueror after a
protracted struggle of _two hours and thirty-five
minutes_.

REMARKS.――The instant the men had peeled the disparity
in height and length of arm was apparent, which nothing
short of superior science and activity on the part of
Langan, which he certainly did not possess, could have
overcome. In science Brassey is fully equal to Langan,
while in lasting power he is his superior. In the
quality of game Langan proved himself a hero; he only
gave in when nature left him powerless to continue the
contest. Brassey was quickly himself, and walked to his
carriage, and Langan, though by far the most punished,
said, soon after, that he was fairly beaten. Both men
left the ground, as all British boxers should, with no
feeling of ill-will towards each other.

II.――TASS (HAZARD) PARKER, OF WEST BROMWICH, AND JOHN LEECHMAN (BRASSEY), OF BRADFORD, FOR £100.

After Brassey’s defeat by Caunt, already referred to, Tass Parker, of West Bromwich, offered himself to the notice of Brassey, proposing to meet him halfway between Bradford and West Bromwich, for £100. Parker, (whose best fighting weight was 11st. 10lbs.) at catch weight, and Brassey not to exceed 12st. 7lbs. on the day of fighting, which was fixed for the 13th of July, 1841; a date which was subsequently extended to the 10th of August, on which day the men met at Brunt Lays, near Worksop, under the circumstances and with the result we are now about to narrate.

Though the match was originally made in Manchester, the celebrity of the men lent a metropolitan interest to the battle, and on the receipt of a letter, dated the previous Friday, naming Lindrick Common, Notts, near Eckington, on the borders of Yorkshire, as the rendezvous, the writer booked himself, on the Monday, by the North Midland Rail for Worksop. On arriving at that place he ascertained that Brassey was already snugly ensconced at a small inn on the borders of Lindrick Common, aforesaid, under the care of a liberal backer and Jemmy Wharton (Young Molyneaux). Brassey was in high spirits and full of confidence, yet we did not, upon a close scrutiny, consider him up to the mark, and there was a feverishness in his pulse when we shook hands with him that induced us to question the Black, whereon we were informed that he had made an eccentric bolt from his training quarters a few days before, and that otherwise he had not been strictly observant of the rigid discipline indispensable to A 1 condition. Nevertheless his friends not only declared him “all right,” but offered the odds of 6 to 4 in proof of their good opinion. On the same night Parker arrived, accompanied by Nick Ward, and by Jack Hunt, of Birmingham. He domiciled at the “Red Lion,” where we saw him on the following morning. He was in rude health, his corpus as firm as collared brawn, and in expressing confidence he was by no means more backward than his foe. The expediency of an early meeting at the scene of action being admitted, it was agreed that Brassey should go to scale at 10 o’clock, and that as soon as possible afterwards operations should commence――a prospect extremely agreeable to some hundreds, who were desirous of returning the same day to the distant localities from whence they had come, among whom we noticed several Corinthians of “the upper crust,” and staunch supporters of the fistic art.

Precisely at 10 o’clock we reached the Common, where an immense multitude had already assembled, in every order of vehicle, and including an extraordinary field of equestrians, who were, however, far out-numbered by the muster of _toddlers_, a vast number of whom had devoted the night to the exercise of their pedestrian powers. The scene was altogether most animated, and rendered not the less so by a huntsman and a pack of foxhounds taking their morning exercise in the distance. To all this, however, there were drawbacks which threatened mischief; the first was the fact of our having passed a body of the rural police for Nottinghamshire on their march to the Common, and the next and more serious, the actual presence of a worthy beak for the county of York, who, however loth, declared he could not permit hostilities to take place within his jurisdiction. Thus Nottinghamshire and Yorkshire were _tabooed_, but as Derbyshire, close adjoining, was unrepresented, it was at once resolved to conduct the candidates for milling fame to its hospitable meads. In the interim Brassey was found to be as he should be in “pounds avoirdupois,” and a general move to the “land of promise” took place. Of pilots there were abundance, but, as it turned out, not equally happy in their knowledge of the county; for while Parker and his friends took one road, Brassey and the Commissary, with the ropes and stakes, took another. The latter led through bridle paths of the most villainous description, which had never been traversed but by farmers’ carts, and through which it was with the greatest difficulty the carriages could be dragged, not only from the narrowness of the roads, but from the horrifying ruts by which they were cut up. At last, after indescribable difficulties, this portion of the cavalcade reached a field in which it was said the two counties of York and Derby were divided by a small bank. Here, with great difficulty, from the rocky character of the subsoil, the ring was formed, and all waited with patience for the arrival of Parker and his division; but they waited in vain. It was now ascertained that the ring was still in the county of Nottingham; a fatal error. At last, when patience was exhausted, news arrived that Parker had been more successfully led by turnpike roads to a place called Brunt Lays, near Worksop, and to that place a move became inevitable.

The materials of the ring having been once more transferred to the cart in which they had been brought, another pilgrimage was commenced through paths if possible more perilous than the former, till finally by two o’clock the desired goal was reached, and a fresh arena formed. But here a new difficulty arose: the carriages and carts drew so close round the ring that it was impossible to drive back the dense masses which had congregated. There was but one remedy, and this was to carry off the _materiel_ to a new position, where in maiden ground a more extensive field of action was secured, and the throng as it approached being marshalled with a due regard to the formation of a spacious area, the preliminaries were happily and conveniently adjusted for the accommodation of all parties; the pedestrians forming the inner circle, and the outer circle being composed of carriages, carts, waggons, and horsemen. There were scarcely less than ten thousand persons present, and a more imposing spectacle has seldom been witnessed on any similar occasion. The police were in the rear of the cavalcade as it moved, but they did not attempt to interfere, merely intimating that “such scenes were contrary to Act of Parliament,” a piece of information as novel as it was ineffective in preventing sport.

All being in readiness, the heroes were summoned to the lists; Parker from an adjacent farm-house, where he had been hospitably sheltered, and Brassey from the carriage which had conveyed him to the ground. Brassey first made his appearance, attended by “King Dick” and Hall, with a host of friends sporting their bright “yellowmen.” On throwing his castor within the ropes he was received with shouts. Parker next presented himself, under the care of Hunt and Nick Ward, and also escorted by his backers, displaying fogles bearing the insignia of the Royal Standard of England in four compartments. His reception was far from flattering, and the yells of the roughs completely drowned the friendly cheers of his admirers, but they created a strong sympathy in his favour among the advocates of fair play. Betting was commenced with great briskness, and 6 to 4 were freely laid and taken――Brassey being of course the favourite. There was the usual admission of privileged spectators within the outer circle on the payment of a stipulated fee, and the difficulty of preserving order was proportionately increased; but at last all was tolerably well adjusted, and the men commenced their toilettes. The toss for choice of position was won by Brassey, who not only took the higher ground, but placed his back to the sun, which was happily shining with great brilliancy――more favourable weather could not in fact have been enjoyed. The colours of the men having been tied to the stakes in the usual way, a curious scene followed. Several of the partisans of each who wore colours agreed to bet them one against the other, and these were also entwined to different stakes, giving to the ring an appearance of unusual gaiety, from the brightness of the kerchiefs as they fluttered in the breeze. Umpires and a referee having been chosen, little time was lost in commencing business.

On Brassey being stripped his appearance by no means altered the estimate we had formed of his condition on the previous night. He was “unshaven” and “unshorn;” barbers being unknown on Lindrick Common, he had not been able to obtain the assistance of one of the fraternity. This gave a haggardness to his countenance――not the most prepossessing――which was not calculated to raise him in the estimation of the spectators. His flesh, too, appeared flabby, and there was an absence of that healthful glow and muscular development which was observable at his contest with Caunt. He struck us, too, as being out of spirits, although there was no indication of the want of personal confidence. Parker, on the contrary, was obviously “up to the mark,” his skin was clear and fresh in colour, and his muscles exhibited a tensity indicative of rude health, while his bearing was marked by unusual confidence. On standing together the disparity of size was not so remarkable as might have been supposed, although in height and frame Brassey had clearly the advantage. At twenty minutes to three o’clock the men were conducted to “the scratch,” and their seconds retired to their corners.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Brassey, on throwing himself into position,
stood erect, with his hands well up and his head thrown
back, but his manner was stiff and constrained. There
was nothing of that graceful ease which distinguishes
an accomplished master of the art, and which is
characteristic of quickness and activity. Parker was
more free in his action, his shoulder and head thrown
slightly forward, and his arms free and in playful
attitudes, low, but ready for a fly. Brassey waited for
the assault, and on Parker making one or two dodges,
showed himself well on his guard. Brassey advanced, but
Parker broke away; at last Parker let go his left, but
was stopped. Brassey again made a forward motion, and
Parker retreated. Brassey let out his right, but was
short, and Parker instantly popped in his left and
fell. (Cries of “Nick Ward has come to town” from the
Brasseyites.)

2.――Parker evidently creeping in to hit, Brassey
waiting. Slight exchanges with the left, when Brassey
popped in his right on Parker’s nose, and in the
scuffle Parker got down (cries of “First blood from
Parker”), and in a short time the purple fluid was seen
trickling from his nasal promontory.

3.――Brassey on his guard, but Parker succeeded in
popping in his right; his left went over Brassey’s
shoulder. After slight exchanges, Parker was down, his
nozzle still bleeding.

4.――Parker tried his left and right, but did not get
home. Brassey rushed to him and hit him slightly on the
ear with his right. He was preparing for further
mischief, but Parker slipped down, holding on by the
ropes with his left.

5.――Parker led off again, left and right, but without
effect. Brassey followed him, and in a wild rally, in
which trifling hits were exchanged, Brassey fell back
on his knee.

6.――Parker, who was the first to go to work, planted
his left and right on Brassey’s dial. Brassey tried his
left in return, but was short, and Parker slipped down.

7.――Parker short with his left and right, Brassey
stepping back. Brassey attempted to return with his
left, but was also short. Parker, in a second attempt,
was more successful, and delivered his left on
Brassey’s ogle. Brassey returned a round hit with his
right on Parker’s pimple. Slight exchanges, when Parker
let go his left with dire intent, but Brassey ducked
his nob and got away. In a scramble which followed
Parker got down.

8.――Parker dodging, Brassey waiting; Parker let go his
right, which got home on Brassey’s cheek, but missed
his left. Brassey made play, but Parker retreated and
slipped on his knee, looking up at Brassey as he
approached. Brassey walked quietly to his corner.

9.――Brassey now changed his tactics and led off, but
Parker got away. Slight counter-hits with the left.
Parker retreated, but, waiting an opportunity, popped
in his left twice in succession. Brassey followed,
contemplating mischief, but Parker got down. (Cries of
“Foul,” but no notice taken by the umpires.)

10.――Parker tried his left and right, but Brassey got
away. Brassey advanced, hit round with his right, but
was short. Wild exchanges with no effect, and Parker
down.

11.――Parker was the first to make play, tried his left
and right but did not get home. He retreated, when
Brassey followed him up, shoved out his left, and
Parker went down.

12.――An exchange of trifling hits, and Parker down to
avoid.

13.――Up to this time there was no visible appearance of
punishment on either, with the exception of the first
blood already noticed. Parker put in his left and
right, when Brassey caught him round his neck with his
left, and gave him a crack on the ear with his right.
Parker slipped down to avoid a repetition of the
compliment.

14.――(2 to 1 on Brassey). Counter-hits with the left,
but that of Brassey was more like a shove than a hit;
it wanted elbow-grease, and made no impression. Brassey
closed, grasped his man with his left, and was about to
fib him with his right when Parker slipped down to
avoid.

15.――Brassey came up eyeing his antagonist with
contempt. Parker approached him slowly, and let fly his
left and right, catching him on the phiz. Brassey
rushed at him to return the compliment, but Parker went
down “nasty,” quite in the Nick Ward style.

16.――Parker, as usual, opened the ball, but was stopped
left and right. Brassey ran to him, hit out slightly
with his left, when Parker fell on his back, Brassey
falling over him, with his knees on each side of his
body.

17.――Parker hit over Brassey’s shoulder with his left,
and was going down to avoid when Brassey hit him with
his right hand open on the back.

18.――Parker again hit over with his left, and Brassey
followed him to the ropes, hitting, without precision,
left and right, while Parker retreated and fell on his
knees.

19.――Smart exchanges left and right, Parker napping it
on the auricular, and down to escape a repetition of
the dose.

20.――Parker popped in his left heavily on Brassey’s
mouth, from whence blood was drawn. It was a stinging
smack Brassey rushed after him in the retreat, when
Parker fell, Brassey upon him.

21.――Smart counters with the left, and Brassey again
paid a visit to Parker’s listener. Parker, on Brassey’s
efforts to engage him in a rally, went down.

[This falling system on the part of Parker caused many
expressions of contempt on the part of Brassey’s
friends, and he was called upon to “stand up and fight
like a man.”]

22.――Parker pursued his dodging system, and again
delivered his left on Brassey’s mouth. Brassey caught
him with his right on the side of the head, but was
unable to get home with his left; Parker dropped.

23.――A trifling exchange of hits left and right, when
Parker got down, Brassey falling upon him.

24.――Counter-hits with the left, but Brassey did not
get well home. Brassey tried to bring his man to a
rally, but he went down to avoid.

25.――Parker hit short with his left and retreated to
his corner. Brassey followed boldly, when he napped it
from the right on the jaw. Brassey hit out left and
right, missing his man, and Parker went down.

26.――Parker hit slightly left and right, but in getting
away from the return slipped down.

27.――Brassey led off, missing his left and right, when
Parker got away and went down.

28.――Parker, as usual, led off with his left, but
caught it in return from Brassey’s right on the lug. In
the close Parker caught Brassey round the waist, threw,
and fell on him, thereby showing that he possessed
strength enough if he had but courage to use it.

29.――Counter-hits, followed by a close, in which, after
a slight struggle, Brassey threw Parker on his back and
fell on him. Parker in going down caught at Brassey’s
face open-handed, and drew blood from his mouth. (Cries
of “He’s gouging him,” and exclamations of disgust.)

30.――Wild fighting, in which trifling exchanges took
place, and Parker went down, Brassey falling on his
knees beside him.

31.――Parker led off, but Brassey retreated, hitting out
wildly. Parker rushed in to him, and Brassey fell as he
stepped back. From this to the 38th round little
mischief was done. Parker generally led off, and
occasionally delivered heavy blows left and right,
which began to tell on Brassey’s phisog; Brassey was
far from idle, but Parker invariably pursued his
dropping system when mischief was likely to ensue.

39.――In this round they looked at each other for some
time with their arms down, Brassey laughing and shaking
his flabby sides, but still fresh and vigorous. At
last, on approaching nearer, Brassey let go his left,
with little effect. In the short rally which followed
Brassey received a heavy right-handed thump on the jaw,
and Parker went down.

In a rally in the 44th round heavy blows were
exchanged, Parker catching it on the nose, which again
commenced bleeding, but he still pursued his getting
down system. In the 46th round Brassey led off, hitting
Parker on the ear with his right, and repeating the
dose with his left on the mouth and nose; Parker down
bleeding, and 3 to 1 offered on Brassey, although he
had evidently received the worst of the punishment.
Parker’s pusillanimous system of dropping excited
general disapprobation, but he contrived so to time his
tactics as to keep within the pale of the law.
Brassey’s seconds, finding that Parker’s one two was
invariably set aside when Brassey led off, urged him to
let fly the moment Parker approached; from these
assaults, Parker, stopping left and right, retreated,
but in the 55th round went down so palpably without a
blow, that cries of “Foul!” burst from all quarters. An
appeal was instantly made to the referee, who, however,
would not pronounce his judgment till properly applied
to by the umpires, to whom no appeal was at all made,
and Brassey, instead of retiring to his corner, as he
ought to have done, to await a deliberate decision,
rushed to take the handkerchiefs from the stake, an
example which “King Dick” followed. At this moment
Parker approached Brassey, struck him a heavy blow with
his right, and a desperate rally ensued; heavy hits
were exchanged left and right, and in the close both
were down. On rising to their seconds’ knees both
showed severe marks of punishment, Parker on his left
ear, and Brassey on his mouth and left eye. This
renewal of the combat with such mutual good will
necessarily set aside the claim of “foul,” and thereby
deprived Brassey of the verdict of “victory,” which
would doubtless have been given in his favour.[28]

56.――Counter-hits with the left, when Brassey caught
Parker another of his terrific round hits on the ear,
and after a short scramble Parker got down.

57.――A rally, in which heavy hits were exchanged,
Parker down, Brassey falling upon him with his knees.
(“Foul” was claimed for Parker, but the intention was
not sufficiently apparent to justify a decision in his
favour, added to which, he provoked the act by his own
tricks.)

From this to the 100th round the same style of fighting
was pursued, with alternate changes, Parker receiving
some heavy lunges from Brassey’s right on his ear,
which was dreadfully swollen, and presented a most
unseemly aspect, and Brassey catching it repeatedly on
the mouth and face――the former of which was cut, and
the latter exhibited marks of repeated visitations.
Parker went down at the termination of almost every
round, obviously to avoid punishment; but although this
system was cowardly, and opposed to the character of a
fair stand-up fight, he contrived so to time his
prostrations, as to keep himself within the pale of the
law; blows, however slight, having been exchanged. The
unnecessary length of the spikes in his shoes might
have had some influence in the falls, but it was too
clear that he wanted a heart to stand up manfully to
give and take in the old English fashion. From the
100th to the 117th round the same objectionable system
was pursued; but although numerous hits were exchanged,
and the marks of punishment on the side of Parker’s
head and Brassey’s frontispiece increased in severity,
there was still no decisive mischief done. Brassey’s
left seemed to be of little use to him; and although
with Caunt he used it with cutting effect, with Parker
he did no execution, and the right side of Parker’s
face was literally without a mark. Nevertheless, in the
118th round, Brassey was the favourite at 2 to 1. From
the 118th to the 127th round, during which time the
same style of tactics was adopted, little visible
alteration took place in the spirits of the men, both
coming to the scratch with confidence, but slowly. In
the latter round, however, Parker succeeded in
delivering a heavy blow with his right on Brassey’s
nob, who fell in a state of apparent insensibility. All
was now thought to be over, and a simultaneous rush
took place from all quarters to the ring. “Time” was
called, to which Brassey did not respond. Parker, for
whose personal safety from the crowd apprehensions were
evidently entertained, was almost immediately taken
away, his seconds and friends claiming the battle. To
the astonishment of all, however, Brassey rose, and
declared his readiness to renew the combat, a claim
which the referee, when appealed to, allowed; for
although more than eight seconds had elapsed, by which
time he ought to have been at the scratch, still, as he
had not been duly summoned――the umpires having, in the
confusion, neglected their duty――he was fairly entitled
to the advantage. In like manner it was determined that
Parker, who quitted the ring without first going to the
scratch, to which he had not been called, was absolved
from the penalty of the loss of the battle to which his
absence might otherwise have exposed him.

[This, again, imposes on seconds and umpires the
absolute necessity of obtaining a perfect knowledge of
their duty, and strictly adhering to its dictates. From
the great confusion which prevailed in this instance
some excuse may be found, but it only confirms our
repeated observations on the great disadvantage arising
from permitting throngs of partisans to congregate
close to the milling arena, who, by shouts and
exclamations, tend to interfere with that cool and
dispassionate judgment which the umpires and referee
should be permitted to exercise, and which, in ancient
times, was perfectly secured, none but the umpires and
referee being then permitted to sit close to the ropes
and stakes.]

Some delay took place before Parker returned, one of
his seconds declaring he had been knocked down, an
assertion which proved without foundation, although on
his way to his carriage he had certainly fallen, and
execrations were showered upon him from the friends of
Brassey.

With the 128th round the fight was renewed, but amid
such a riotous display of party feeling from the crowd,
which could not be driven back from the ring, that it
was difficult to note the changes which took place.
Brassey exhibited unshrinking “game,” and succeeded in
planting some heavy blows with his right on Parker’s
ear, while the latter was occasionally equally
successful in delivering his left and right on his
opponent’s disfigured mug. Parker, as usual, preserved
his cautious or rather questionable generalship, and no
sooner found himself in danger than he got down. In
point of freshness he had a decided superiority over
the unfortunate Brassey, and not only hit oftener but
harder. In the 143rd round he planted the first heavy
body-blow with his right, the effects of which were
instantly visible on Brassey’s countenance, who was
almost doubled up with pain. In the next round he was
equally successful with his left on the body, and
Brassey was again down. For the three succeeding rounds
Parker fought not only with renewed vigour but with a
more manly and determined spirit, a change sufficiently
amounted for by the almost helpless state of his
antagonist, who was down in every round.

The friends of Brassey now saw that all hope of a
favourable change was extinguished. The ropes were cut,
and a crowd armed with sticks and bludgeons rushed
between the men, and prevented the possibility of the
continuation of the fight. The most dreadful confusion
prevailed, during which Brassey lay at full length with
his head resting in his second’s lap, who sat down on
the ground to receive him. He was evidently in a
helpless state, but still he refused to give in,
declaring himself perfectly ready to renew the contest
whenever the ring was cleared. Persuasions and
entreaties were all in vain to induce the interlopers
to retire. Parker’s seconds claimed the battle; but
this would not be conceded; and after a long wrangle
between those who wished the fight to be drawn and
those who wished it to be concluded, a body of horsemen
were admitted within the outer circle, who instantly
galloped round the fragments of the ropes and stakes
yet left standing, and effectually succeeded in
clearing the area. Those within the ring then retired,
and with some difficulty the ropes were spliced and the
ring assumed something of its original form. Brassey
still continued to lie prostrate on the earth, but
there being no further impediment to his once more
resuming the battle he was again called to the scratch.
He came up quite groggy, while Parker, on the contrary,
was fresh, and apparently as strong as when he
commenced the battle.

It was soon seen that the forebodings of Brassey’s
friends would be confirmed, and that his chance of
success had indeed vanished. In fact, Parker hit him as
he liked, his boldness increasing as his sense of
danger diminished. Still, from the 148th to the 156th
round, Brassey came valiantly to the scratch, but was
down in every round, and was obviously incapable of
stemming the current of misfortune. His friends again
forced themselves into the ring; but “King Dick,”
feeling the folly and foreseeing the danger which a
repetition of punishment under such circumstances might
incur, refused to second him any longer, and the
unfortunate fellow at last consented to give in. He
then shook hands with Parker, who although thus crowned
with the wreath of victory, was certainly not entitled
to praise for either manliness or gallantry. He retired
from the field perfectly fresh with few marks of
punishment, save those on his left ear and on the left
side of his _caput_, which were certainly most wofully
damaged. Brassey was completely exhausted, and almost
in a state of stupefaction from the repeated
visitations, left and right, to his knowledge box. His
lip was split, and in other respects his punishment
sufficiently testified that he had not left off till
nature had deserted him. It is needless to say that his
friends and himself were deeply mortified and
disappointed by the result. The fighting was rapid,
time called quick, and the rounds extremely short,
which will account for the number of rounds is so
limited a period.

REMARKS.――We candidly confess that from first to last
we never witnessed a fight the conclusion of which was
less satisfactory. We have more than once expressed our
disgust at that species of tumble-down fighting by
which men, regardless of the principles of fair
stand-up boxing, seek to punish others, while by
cowardly subterfuges they escape punishment themselves.
It is a species of paltry cunning to which no true
British boxer would have recourse, and which in
Parker’s case, as well as that of Nick Ward, admits of
no apology. It is ridiculous to say that such manœuvres
are consistent with good generalship, or excusable when
small men are opposed to men of greater bulk; because,
if small men are incapable of fighting men of larger
size by fair means, it is not incumbent on them to
enter the lists at all. But here the disparity of size
was by no means such as to justify the adoption of such
a mode of defence. From the first it was clear that
Parker was not only the better fighter left and right,
but was the harder hitter; and if he had had the
courage to exercise those physical qualities which he
possessed, and fought fairly and manfully at his man,
there is little doubt that he would have brought the
combat to a similar issue in one-third of the time.
That he actually went down without a blow in more
instances than one the spectators must have been
perfectly satisfied, although on those particular
occasions the appeals to the referee were not legally
and properly made; and that he frequently went down
equivocally is equally certain, but he had always
self-possession and cunning enough to take care that he
did not have recourse to these tricks except under
circumstances where no adverse decision could be
formed. He was repeatedly warned by the referee, but he
declared solemnly he could not help it. On quitting the
ring he vauntingly forewarned Caunt, who was present,
that he would ere long have a tussle with him for the
Champion’s belt, but we apprehend this is idle bounce,
which he will be very unlikely ever to realise. With
regard to Brassey, he utterly disappointed the
anticipations of his friends. He no longer presented
the formidable front by which he was distinguished in
his contest with Caunt; he seemed, in fact, to have
lost that gift of hitting left and right of which the
head of Caunt, after their fight, afforded such signal
testimony. His left hand appeared to be utterly
ineffective, and when he did hit with it it was rather
a shove than a blow, while the hits with his right hand
were anything but decisive, although from their
repetition they seemed at one time to threaten the
ultimate defeat of his shifty antagonist. Of Parker’s
cleverness and pusillanimity the reader will find
further examples in the account of his defeat by Perry,
the Tipton Slasher, in our memoir of that boxer,
forming Chapter IV. of this volume.

This was the last appearance of Brassey in the P.R. The poor fellow was evidently on a downhill course, and died at his house, the “Coach and Horses,” Todd Street, Manchester, in 1845.

[28] It should never be forgotten by seconds that the
referee is distinctly bound by the 4th of the New Rules of
the Ring, to “withhold all opinion till appealed to by the
umpires.” And it is to those umpires alone that the first
appeal should be made; not by bystanders, who may be
influenced by personal interest, but by the seconds alone, a
rule which is unfortunately but too frequently forgotten,
and which was in this instance attended by unfortunate
consequences to Brassey――ED.

III.――TASS PARKER, OF WEST BROMWICH, AND HARRY PRESTON, OF BIRMINGHAM, FOR £100.

As the name of Harry Preston has more than once occurred in connection with the subjects of Memoirs in our history, and was at one period of his career thought good enough for a match for £300 with Young Dutch Sam (see PUGILISTICA, Vol. II., p. 388), we shall here give his last battle, which was also memorable as being Tass Parker’s first Ring victory. The articles, which fixed the 8th of May, 1838, as the day of meeting, and the stakes to be fought for at £200, and further stipulated that Preston should confine himself to 11st. 7lbs., were duly complied with, Preston, on the morning of fighting, balancing 11st. 6lbs., which many considered 8lbs. below his best standard. Harry, it must be borne in mind, was an “old stager,” having credited to him, in the previous ten years, seven victories, two draws (one with Young Dutch Sam, already alluded to, the other with Davis, of Birmingham, whom he afterwards conquered), and but _one_ defeat, and that by the scientific Jem Wharton (Young Molyneaux). It was, therefore, to be expected that 6 to 4 was readily offered on Preston, and that the defeat of Parker, who, notwithstanding his admitted superior skill with the gloves, had been twice beaten by the renowned Hammer Lane, with a prevalent doubt of his gameness, should have been booked as a certainty; the sequel, however, proved that in the Ring, as on the Turf, “public running” is not always to be implicitly relied on.

On the morning of the event we found ourselves in Sawley, a village in Derbyshire, eight miles south-west of Nottingham, where we were introduced to Preston, at a “public” on the banks of the Trent, wherein he had taken up his quarters. He spoke confidently of his prospects of success, and treated his reduction of weight as by no means reducing his capabilities. We, however, did not share his opinion; though lighter bodily, his face struck us as more puffy than is consistent with perfect training, and he did not impress us with the idea of a man hardened by his exercises. Of Parker’s whereabouts we could learn nothing; and a warning being given that “a magistrate was in the village with an escort of police,” Preston was hastily disguised and got out of danger; and not a bit too soon, for scarcely was Preston on the road to Appleby, when a clerical “beak,” with a constable and three or four “specials,” armed with a warrant for “three counties,” as we were informed, made their unwelcome appearance. In justice to these officials, however, we must say that they behaved in what poor Jack Scroggins called “a gentlemanlike sort of a way,” and gave all to understand that they should exercise their undoubted powers with moderation, and that if “the peace” of Derbyshire was unmolested, their function would then and there cease. Away, then, for Leicestershire, towards Ashby-de-la-Zouch――renowned in days of old for its tournaments and “passage of arms”――was the word. Now, as fighting Ashby (fifteen miles from Leicester) was about seventeen from where we then were, and as it was already past twelve o’clock, the “fixture” was indeed a damper, many remembering how they were thrown out when Caunt and Bendigo held their first “joust” at Appleby. The cloud, however, passed away when, about a mile and a half beyond Castle Donington, a hint was given that in a field not three hundred yards from the turnpike-road, yet out of view of it, a secluded spot was at the service of the weary wayfarers. A general halt was made; each man was temporarily housed in an adjacent “Tom and Jerry;” and these establishments being each luckily provided with considerable stabling, every stall and shed was at once occupied by vehicles and quadrupeds, while the bipeds consumed every eatable and drinkable, to the last loaf and the last “tilt of the barrel,” in both establishments. These despatched, word was brought that the Birmingham Commissary had pitched his stakes, and all moved off to a pretty dell, where, on a nice bit of turf, surrounded by gentle slopes thickly wooded, the lists were formed; not a few aspiring countrymen and youths ascending the trees nearest the ring, and forming a “rookery” whence a vocal, but not very musical, “cawing” was heard at intervals of the fight.

At two o’clock precisely, Preston made his appearance, and shied his pimple-coverer into the ring; an example immediately followed by Parker, who stepped briskly into the arena, and with a good-humoured smile went up to Preston and shook hands with apparent cordiality. There was a buoyant springiness in Parker, and a confidence in his appearance, which seemed to say “I mean winning, and nothing else.” Preston’s manner was more subdued――he looked serious, but exhibited nothing like distrust in his own powers. Betting was 6 to 4 on Preston, which, in a few instances, was taken, Parker’s partisans seeming doubtful of their man. The colours having been fastened to the stakes, and umpires and a referee chosen, the men stripped. Parker’s condition appeared excellent――he looked as fine as a star, and weighed exactly 11st. 4lbs. Preston looked delicate――his flesh did not appear firm, nor had it the roseate hue of health. At fourteen minutes after two the men came to the scratch――Peter Taylor and Nick Ward seconding Parker; and Dick Davis and Holland, both of Birmingham, performing the same friendly office for Preston. After the usual formalities,

THE FIGHT

Commenced, Preston having the sun shining brilliantly
in his face. “It will be a merry fight,” said Taylor,
who had been taking the odds of 3 to 2; “but my man is
in a merry mood, and means winning, and nothing else.”
Preston’s attitude was good; he appeared ready either
for the offensive or defensive, and watched his man
closely, who was also on the alert; Preston trying to
draw him, and making two or three feints, but Parker
was wide awake. Preston made a hit, but Parker jumped
back, keeping his hands well up. After two or three
feints, Preston hit right and left; Parker countered;
several exchanges, slightly in favour of Preston. A
smartish rally, each trying to give the upper-cut; a
short struggle, and both down, Preston under. “First
blood” was claimed for Parker, and admitted; it was
from a slight blow on the mouth. This round occupied
four minutes, and was in favour of Preston; but the
Parkerites were uproarious, Tassey having gained the
first event.

Round 2.――After sparring for some time, neither man
liking to commence operations, Preston put in a tidy
one with his left on the ribs without a return; more
sparring; Preston got in his left, and Parker countered
well. Both on their mettle, and rapid exchanges of
compliments passed, each anxiously trying to give the
upper-cut. Parker planted a facer, and Preston returned
under the left ear. Loud cheering for both men animated
them to redouble their exertions; and after a sharp and
merry round, in which there was good fighting on both
sides, both down, Preston under. Preston had rather the
best of this round. This round lasted 16 minutes.

3.――Long sparring; Preston trying to “gammon” his man
to begin, but Parker seemed to be down to Preston’s
moves. At length Preston led off with his left, which
was well stopped; Parker countered smartly, and fought
well before him, boring his man, who gave his head
away. Preston tried to give the upper-cut, but failed.
“Give and take as much and as quickly as you can”
appeared to be the motto of each, and they rattled away
merrily without any decided lead to either. This was
the best-contested round in the fight, and Parker
proved himself a better man than many anticipated. He
stood well to his gun, and not a few thought Preston
began not to fancy his man quite so much. Indeed, Harry
found him stick closer to him than he expected, and a
much sharper fighter than he had calculated upon;
still, the round was, if anything, favourable to
Preston. 25 minutes had elapsed.

4.――The effects of the last round and the heat of the
day appeared not to suit Preston. He had a slight mouse
on the left eye, when he came to the scratch, and
hemmed several times, as if a “little” touched in the
wind. Preston manœuvring to draw his man; Parker hit
short. After sparring for some time, Parker put his
hands down as a “ticer.” After a little more sparring,
Parker made his one-two without a return, and followed
his man briskly. Preston’s face covered with
perspiration, both hit together; exchanges, Parker
driving his man to the ropes, where he fell, Parker
upon him. (Shouts for Parker, and cries of “He’s got
Harry; where’s your 6 to 4?”)

5.――This was a short round; Parker took the lead, and
hit his man well and smartly, gave him no time for
parrying, but bustled away. Preston relished this mode
of attack so little that he turned from his man. (“What
do you say now? Why it’s Donington Hall to a cowshed!”
exclaimed Peter Taylor. “Oh, my man’s got him
beautifully――it’ll soon be over.”) Parker stuck to his
man; delivering rapidly as he went in, and Preston went
down.

6.――Preston looked as if he meant mischief, but was
fearful of going in; after he had made a few feints,
Parker went boldly in, hitting away right and left,
and, to avoid punishment as well as fatigue, Preston
went down in a short rally. (“He’s coming it”――the
Tassites uproarious, and the layers of odds rather
blue.)

7.――Parker found he had got his man, went to work
instanter, and drove him before him, and Preston fell
outside of the ropes. (“He’s done for!” was the general
exclamation of the Parkerites).

8.――Parker determined not to give a chance away,
commenced fighting instanter; Preston giving his head,
and making no defence, slipped down. (Cries of
disapprobation.)

In the next round Preston was driven out of the ropes;
and the three following rounds were all one way. It was
clear that Preston’s chance was gone. From the fourth
round he appeared to fight like a man who had either
made up his mind to be beaten, or was so dreadfully out
of condition that he had not the power to make any
defence. At the end of the thirteenth round, on being
lifted up, he could not, or would not, stand; and his
seconds gave in for him. Preston’s friends said he was
seriously hurt, in a very tender part of the body, by
Parker falling upon him. He certainly looked faint and
ill, but Parker’s friends denied the assertion, and the
Brums were loud and deep in their expression of disgust
and indignation. Time 40 minutes.

REMARKS.――The fight was over at twenty minutes to
three, and certainly disappointed every one who saw it;
after the third round Preston appeared to be “down on
his luck;” still, many thought he was only “gammoning,”
but the conclusion of the fourth round convinced the
most sceptical that the glory of Harry had departed,
for he never stood well up to his man afterwards. He
gave his head every round, and fell to avoid punishment
in a manner that excited feelings of contempt. Parker
from the first showed great confidence; when he found
he had “got his man,” he bustled in and gave him no
time for breathing, and although two pounds the
lighter, proved himself by far the stronger man; he
used both hands well and quickly. Among the members of
the Ring on the ground were Hammer Lane and his brother
Surrender, Lazarus, Johnny Broome, and Bill Atkinson;
Caunt, Merryman, and several others were thrown out.
Preston exhibited no severe marks of punishment,
excepting a mouse under the left eye, and a swelling of
the left ear, although Parker appeared to have given
him several “hot ’uns.” Parker appeared as fresh as
when he began. If, as Preston said, “He never was
better,” it is clear he never used his physical
advantages to less effect. That he is a game man he has
on more occasions than one signally proved, and his
defeat can only be attributed to a falling off in power
and lasting quality; while the proverb that “youth will
be served” receives another illustration in Parker’s
rapid success when he found his adversary’s strength
had left him. Tom Spring being stakeholder the money
was handed to the victorious Tass at the “Castle,”
Holborn, on the ensuing Thursday week, who then and
there challenged Britton of Liverpool. With that boxer
Tass fought, on the 8th May, 1839, a drawn battle.
Britton was subsequently arrested, and bound over for
twelve months. The men met again on the 9th of June,
1840, when Parker was victorious after 77 rounds fought
in 1 hour and 50 minutes, and was thereafter matched
with Brassey of Bradford, with the result we have
already narrated in a former page.

Harry Preston appeared no more in the 24-foot after this defeat. He died at Birmingham on the 25th of February, 1850, in his 41st year.

IV.――AARON JONES AND BOB WADE (THE DOVER CHAMPION).

“’Tis not in mortals to command success,” says Addison in his sententious “Cato,” though they may “do more――that is, deserve it.” Aaron Jones, born in 1831――who, in his first essay in the Ring, at the age of 18, had the ill luck to encounter the formidable Harry Orme (in 1849), when he fought him for 2 hours and 45 minutes, at Frimley, as we have already narrated――was a notable instance of this. Jones’s after-defeats by Orme, Paddock, and Tom Sayers being herein set down, we now propose to resuscitate and “photo” the only gleam of sunshine in Aaron’s clouded career. This was his battle with Bob Wade, called the Dover Champion, on the 24th September, 1850.

From the time of Jones’s first defeat he had been anxious for a second customer; but his friends dissuaded him, and gave him the good advice to wait until another year or two had hardened gristle into bone, and set the stamp of endurance on his frame. The youngster, however, was impatient and importunate, and a cavalry officer, to whom Jones had been known in his boyhood, and who was a constant visitor at Jem Burn’s, on Jones calling his attention to a challenge from Bob Wade, offering himself as a candidate for the favours of any 12 stone man, for the small stake of £25 a side, consented to find the quarter of a hundred needful for the match. To improve the amount for the men, it was arranged that they should join in hiring a train on the South Eastern line, in conjunction with the clever little Joe Hoiles (“The Spider”), who was articled to do battle with Jemmy Madden, on the 24th of September. Accordingly, the “excursionists” repaired, on the morning of that day, to the London Bridge terminus of the South Eastern; for as yet the London, Chatham, and Dover was not. The day was delightful, and the destination, Edenbridge, Kent, was reached by noon. Here the travellers alighted at the foot of a rude set of steps cut in the turf embankment. These surmounted, a walk of a few hundred yards down a shady lane, out of sight of travellers by the rail, brought Tom Oliver’s roped square in view, and the smaller couple of heroes were soon at work. After a lively exhibition of game and resolution on one side, and artistic skill, with precise and cutting execution, on the other, “The Spider” succeeded in knocking his sturdy little opponent out of time.

The bantams having settled their difference of opinion, the bigger brace of “unfeathered bipeds” appeared in the pit――we beg pardon, the ring. Jones looked youthful, fair, cheerful, and symmetrical; his height 5 feet 11 inches, his weight 11st. 7lbs. Wade, on the other hand, was a brown and hardy veteran, his look as solid as his carcase, and his weight the same as Jones. His more compact frame, however, gave him quite two inches less stature than the Young’un. Jones had two excellent seconds in Alec Keene and Bob Fuller, while Wade had no reason to complain, having the services of the gallant Jack Grant and the accomplished Bill Hayes. It was currently reported that Jones had made rapid improvement since his encounter with Harry Orme, in the previous December, and hence he had the call in the betting at 5 to 4. We prefer giving a description to a mere numbered detail of the rounds.

In leading off, after a few seconds spent in manœuvring, Jones got in his left so cleverly and effectively on Wade’s jaw-bone that he not only staggered the veteran, but sent him against the centre stake with such force that his head was cut severely, and bled profusely throughout the after rounds of the fight. Wade, nevertheless, returned to the charge, and in the exchanges caught Jones a sounding right-hander in the ribs, after which both were down in a scrambling rally. In the second round Jones displayed superior science, nobbing Wade neatly, who, however, when he got to half-arm hitting, pegged away with resolution and effect, until again both were on the grass, with hardly any “best” in the matter, though Jones’s friends were uproarious in their encouragement of their man.

From the third to the tenth round Wade worked away well, Jones not seeming able to meet him with sufficient precision and certainty as he came in. When the men got together, ding-dong hitting and give and take was the order of the day; thus they roughed away until one or the other was down in the hitting, Wade the most frequently, Jones’s superior and straighter style gradually improving his position. In the twelfth round Wade, who had certainly by far the larger share of the punishment, caught Aaron a stinging hit on the nose, and so severe was its effect that for the moment it brought the Young’un forward in a state of mystification, and, hitting out at random, he came upon his knees. The Dover lads were vociferous in their acclamations, but Jones came up steady, and in the next round, nailing Wade as he came rashly in, balanced the account by battering his already damaged figure-head. In the succeeding three or four rounds Jones stopped Wade’s rush effectually. Both men rallied with great determination, and many thought that the lasting stamina of Wade must wear out the active spurts of Jones. In a rally in the 25th round, the Dover veteran hit Jones down with a swinging body-blow, and the hopes of his partisans were again buoyant. Wade, however, was too much abroad from severe hitting to take full advantage of his chance, and again and again his adversary administered punishment, as he followed him up to force the fighting. In the 39th round, Jones having propped Wade three or four times in succession without a return, the Old’un fell. Fifty-six minutes had elapsed, and amidst cries of “Take him away!” Wade came up for the 40th round, and Jones, in a half-arm rally, milled him down. The 41st and 42nd rounds presented little variation, Wade obstinately refusing to give in, though so advised by his friends; and at length, just as the hour had expired, and Wade had come up for the 43rd bout, Jones nailed him two straight ones, the first on the side of the head, the second on the mouth, and down went poor Bob, to all intents and purposes a beaten man. Jones was highly elated at his conquest, which was certainly creditable to the youngster, as his experienced antagonist was one of that old-fashioned “give and take” school, the members of which are not to be beaten by any boxer who cannot stand heavy retaliation in return for the favours he may bestow upon his opponent, even by superior skill or activity. The money, £50, was given up to Jones on the following Thursday, at Mr. Prior’s, South Audley Street, when the brave Old Bob received a liberal supply of “golden ointment” to heal his disappointment and his bodily hurts.

Jones, for a long period, up to the present year, 1881, has been living in America, where he has earned respect for his civility, steadiness, good behavour, and his skill as a teacher of the art of boxing. A paragraph in a recent newspaper informs us of his return to the Old Country at the age of fifty-one.

PERIOD VIII.――1846-1863.

FROM THE CHAMPIONSHIP OF TOM SAYERS TO THE FIGHT BETWEEN HEENAN AND KING.