Chapter II: Jem Mace, of Norwich (champion) (1)

1855-1864.

None who have witnessed the public appearances of this accomplished boxer will dispute that he was one of the cleverest, smartest, and most skilful pugilists that have sported buff in the 24-foot. Indeed, had Jem appeared at an earlier and better period than the latter days of the failing and moribund P.R.; and (another _if_) had he chosen honestly and manfully to exert his powers, the fame that accompanies the championships of the two elder Jems――Jem Belcher and Jem Ward――might have shone on the career of Jem Mace. As we have already more than once said, such as the patrons of the Ring (or, indeed, of the turf and any other sport) are, such will the character of its professors or exponents be. If horse owners are mere mercenary speculators, can we expect jockeys to go straight? When the patronage of the P.R. had fallen from noblemen, gentlemen, and the admirers of courage and fair-play into the hands of the keepers of night houses, “hells,” and even resorts yet more detestable, whose sole object was to fleece the dissipated and unwary by the sale of high-priced railway passes for “special excursions,” and bring customers and victims to their dens of debauchery and robbery, could it be expected that boxers would remain honest and brave? The encouragement of bravery and skill being as nothing to these debased speculators. This, we regret to say, was the degradation into which the Ring had fallen, or was fast falling, when Jem Mace first became known as a boxer, and to these influences some of the “shady” incidents of his career are easily traceable.

Jem, who was born at Beeston, near Swaffham, in Norfolk, made his first appearance on the stage of life in May, 1831, and, like St. Patrick, “came of dacent people.” His “forebears,” as transpired incidentally in evidence at the Commission _de lunatico inquirendo_ known as “The great Windham scandal,” which was tried at Gray’s Inn, in 1861, seem to have been tenants on the Windham estates for more than a hundred years. We have mentioned this fact, as a general impression prevailed, from Jem’s nomadic antecedents and propensities, that he was a born Bohemian; indeed, we more than once read in newspapers that he was of gipsy extraction. Of Jem’s youth we know nothing, except that he “growed,” like Topsy, and we should say rather wild; for when we first heard of him he was proprietor of a travelling booth, wherein, at fairs, races, and public gatherings he not only played the violin――on which he is a tolerable performer――and supplied refreshments, but was acknowledged as a skilful professor of the art of self-defence. Indeed, he had not long been in this line of business before Jem Mace’s booth was the resort of numerous admirers of glove-practice, and Jem himself was famed for his readiness and success in polishing off any aspiring yokel who might desire to try a bout with the mittens. As Jem’s youthful weight did not quite balance ten stone he was of course often “overweighted,” though never overmatched in these encounters, and as he was always ready “to accommodate” without regard to size or avoirdupois, Jem’s early career taught him how to deal with “big ones,” as his after-fights with Tom King and the gigantic Sam Hurst bear witness.

Jem was not a precocious pugilist, having attained his twenty-fourth year before engaging himself to strip with a local boxer, bearing the formidable name of Slack, in October, 1855. Of this “illustrious obscure” we need only say that _Fistiana_ has but one line chronicling his defeat by one Jack Baston (fighting as Mace’s Novice) in September, 1857, when Slack broke his arm. Mace’s fight with Slack, which took place at Mildenhall, October 2, 1855, was a one-sided affair, Jem snuffing out his adversary’s pretensions in nineteen minutes, which included the 9th and last round, and leaving off without a mark of punishment. From this time, for more than a year, Jem pursued the even tenor of his way, increasing his fame as a fistic practitioner and professor, when the rumour of his “gift” of hitting reached the great metropolis, and with it came an announcement that Mace would be happy, upon finding a suitable customer, to exhibit his talents in the London Ring with any 10 stone practitioner, and give a few pounds.

Bill Thorpe, a fine made and well-proportioned 10 stone man, standing about 5 feet 9 inches in his stocking-feet, had crept into favour with some “over-the-water” sporting circles by his defeat of a man named Bromley, in the same ring in which Dan Collins (Sayers’s early opponent) beat Patsy Daly, on September 28, 1856. Thorpe, being on the look-out for a job, was considered a fit match for Jem Mace, and his friends placing him in the hands of Dan Dismore, the articles were drawn and signed to fight on the 17th February, 1857, for £50, neither man to exceed 10 stone. This limitation of weight suggests a rather curious reflection as to the remarkable manner in which some modern pugilists may be said to have increased in weight by “leaps and bounds.” Jemmy Massey, who fought at 8st. 10lbs., could not latterly scale under 10 stone. Sayers increased from 9st. to 10st. 12lbs., yet he was twenty-four years old when he fought Dan Collins; Harry Broome in two years grew from 10st. to 12st.; he, however, began unusually young, while Jem Mace, who was twenty-six when he first appeared in the London ring, increased from 9st. 10lbs. to 11st. 4lbs. just as Tom Sayers did. The affair came off, after a shift from the Kentish marshes, on Canvey Island, and although the men were termed novices, there was a better muster than usual of the patrons of the ring, owing to the popularity of Dan Dismore and Keene, who severally backed the men. The weather was genial and more like a May day than February, and a pleasant voyage was followed by an easy debarkation, and well-kept ring. Thorpe first threw in his hat, esquired by Jemmy Welsh and Tom Sayers――the appearance of the latter bearing testimony to the wonderful strength of his constitution, one week only having elapsed since his renewed and tremendous battle with Aaron Jones! Mace was not long in following Thorpe’s example, being accompanied by the accomplished Bill Hayes and a Norwich amateur. At three o’clock, all being in apple-pie order, the men and seconds crossed hands, and the former were left face to face to begin

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――As Mace threw himself into attitude there was
a general expression of admiration among the best
qualified judges at the style of “the countryman,” and
the easy grace with which he moved in and out, as if
measuring his opponent, without the least hurry or
nervousness. Thorpe, who, as we have already said, is a
fine straight young fellow, stood with his right leg
foremost _à la_ Bendigo, and by his steady coolness
showed he too was a practitioner in the sparring
school, and not easily to be got at. Mace, however,
filled the eye as a longer and altogether bigger man,
though there was but three pounds difference in their
weight. Thorpe, as his opponent tried to draw him,
declined the temptation and retreated, closely and
warily followed by Mace, who, at length seeing an
opening, instantly planted a right-hander on Thorpe’s
nob with a swiftness that completely astonished the
Londoners. Thorpe did not shrink, but tried to
cross-counter Mace’s left, when dash went in Jem’s
mauley such a spank on Thorpe’s proboscis, that the
Londoner was hit clean off his legs, a fair and
indisputable “knockdown,” thus scoring the first event.
On being carried to his corner, Thorpe was seen to be
distilling the crimson from his olfactory organ, and
“first blood” was also awarded to the member for
Norwich. Thus early the odds were offered on Mace, but
no response was made even to an offer of 6 to 4,
followed by 2 to 1 from a Norwich speculator.

2.――Mace lost no time in getting to work; he lashed out
his left before he was well within distance. Thorpe
retreated, but Mace did not get near enough for a prop,
and Thorpe appeared to be confused at the manner in
which his antagonist had planted on him in the opening
bout, and was by no means desirous to have a second
dose. In his tactics, however, he did not display
science, for he neither hit with precision nor
judgment. In his former battle with a 12st. opponent
Thorpe fought with steady resolution, but the quickness
and cleverness of Mace seemed to unnerve and puzzle
him, and he hurriedly missed both hands, while after a
little manœuvring, Mace let fly left and right in rapid
succession on the head, and then got cleverly away.
Thorpe, after following his man up, dashed out wildly
with the right, and just missed getting home a stinger.
Mace, in returning the compliment, again delivered a
rattling spank on the nose, when Thorpe went down.

3.――Thorpe, acting under the instruction of his
seconds, led off, but was neatly stopped. Determined
not to be denied――Jemmy Welsh seeing that out-fighting
would never do, urged his man to go in, and go in he
did in an impetuous manner, just reaching Master Jem on
the top part of the cranium. In the counter-hitting,
Mace had all the best of it, and after a scrambling
kind of rally, they closed at the ropes, when both went
down, Mace rolling over his opponent.

4.――The countryman administered a pretty one-two on the
front of his opponent’s nob, who did not appear to have
the least idea of how to stop these telling
visitations. In returning the compliment, Thorpe hit
out wildly, and succeeded in getting slightly on Jem’s
brain canister. This brought the combatants to a close,
when Mace threw his man and fell on him; the London
division looked blue at this proof of superiority at
close quarters, and the “Norwich novice” was pronounced
a “stunner,” by more than one good judge.

5.――The Londoner led with the left and right, but
without precision. Mace, in the countering, planted the
left on the cheek, and in a bustling rally fought his
man to the ropes, when Thorpe succeeded in getting home
a heavy spank with the right on the top of the
knowledge-box, and Mace slipped and went down.

6.――Bill, in opening the ball, tried the right, but
again missed. The London party vociferously encouraged
their man, declaring the countryman was “half-licked.”
Mace retreated as his antagonist came dashing in; but
Thorpe was not to be denied, though, in the exchanges
that ensued, he had all the worst of it, for Mace
delivered the left and right full on the _os frontis_,
when Thorpe went down in the middle of the ring,
bleeding profusely.

7.――On coming up, Thorpe displayed considerable marks
of punishment, having a cut over the left peeper, and
one under the right, a proof that his antagonist was a
hard hitter, as well as a quick and rapid fighter. Bill
again tried to take the lead, and to put in a hot ’un
on the nob with the right, but the intended compliment
was not within the mark. Mace, as Thorpe dashed to him
for in-fighting, sent both mauleys full in the middle
of the Londoner’s dial, but, in stepping back, slipped,
and partly went down on his knees. On the instant,
however, he recovered his equilibrium, and, after some
spirited exchanges, in favour of the countryman, they
closed, when Thorpe went down against his will.

8.――Thorpe was unsteady on coming up; Mace had no
sooner been met by his antagonist than he delivered the
left with telling force right on the mark, following it
up with a one-two on the nob, and then, to avoid his
opponent’s rush, being near the ropes, went down
cunning.

9.――The supposed success of Thorpe in fighting down his
man in the last round led to encouraging cheers from
his partisans, who declared the countryman was “cutting
it.” Thorpe, after leading off with little or no
effect, closed, and got home a heavy thwack on the side
of the head with the right, when, after a little
fibbing, Mace broke ground, and went down.

10.――Mace came from his corner with a smiling
countenance. Thorpe had all the will to be dangerous,
but lacked the judgment, for, in commencing the attack,
he was again out of distance. Mace, when he had worked
his way well to his man, administered the left and
right once more on Master Bill’s damaged pimple, and
then, as Thorpe rushed in for the close, went down
easy.

11.――After two or three ineffectual attempts, Bill went
in resolutely and got home with both mauleys on the
side of the nob; Mace, after returning the compliment,
with a slight addition by way of interest, closed with
his opponent, and both went to grass, Thorpe under.

12.――Thorpe with the left got home slightly on the
head, but in trying to improve upon this he was well
stopped. In a wild rally the Londoner fought his man to
the ropes, when the countryman with both the left and
right gave him an additional dose of punishment on the
nob, drawing another supply of claret. After these
exchanges the men closed and fell.

13.――Thorpe, after leading off, napped a stinger on the
side of the nob, when he immediately closed with his
opponent. Some half-arm fighting ensued, all in favour
of Mace, and both were down.

14.――Bill, in a wild impetuous manner, went dashing in
at his man, but in the counters did little or no
execution. Mace, after steadily planting both mauleys
on the head, retreated, and in breaking ground slipped
and fell.

15.――The Londoner made an attempt with the right, but
was well stopped. As Mace broke ground, Thorpe followed
him up with much gameness and resolution, and in the
exchanges delivered a tidy spank with the left on the
side of the head, when Mace went down to avoid the
close, with more prudence than pluck.

16.――Mace, who had been allowing his opponent to do all
the work, now saw he had him in hand; with great
quickness and precision he let fly with both hands at
the head, and repeated the dose without a return.
Thorpe rushed at his man for the close, when Mace went
down laughing.

17.――Thorpe met his antagonist with much resolution,
and with the right planted a stinger on the side of the
head. Mace, in retreating, slipped and went down, but
on the instant he was again on his pins, and renewed
the battle. In the counter-hitting he got home with
telling effect, and in retreating from his man he again
slipped and went on his knees, but instantly jumped up
and faced his opponent. Bill, though, as usual,
receiving all the punishment, stood his ground
manfully, until they closed, when, after some little
fibbing, Mace went down.

18 and last.――Mace in this bout gave his antagonist the
_coup de grace_ in the most off-hand and masterly
manner. Thorpe came up desperate, and Jem, after
stopping the opening shots of his opponent, delivered
his left and right with stinging force on the middle of
Master Bill’s nob, the last hit with his right being
full on his nasal prominence. This immediately sent
Thorpe to grass, and when “time” was called, it was
found that he was in no condition to renew the contest.
Hereupon Jemmy Welsh throw the sponge up in token of
defeat, the battle having lasted twenty-seven minutes.

REMARKS.――There was but one opinion among the
_cognoscenti_ as to the winner――namely, that he was one
of the best boxers that we have seen for many a day. He
is a quick and rapid fighter, and hits with judgment,
precision, and remarkable force, as the condition of
poor Thorpe’s head strikingly manifested. The Londoners
knew by repute that he was considered to be a good
general; but we are confident that they never for a
moment imagined that he was anything like the man he
turned out. As will be seen by our description of the
rounds, he fights remarkably well, and when in danger
has the ability to get out of it in clever style. From
first to last he had the battle entirely in his own
hands, Thorpe never having the remotest chance of
winning, for he was out-fought and out-manœuvred in
every round. Mace at the weight is a strong-made,
powerful man, and if his pluck and bottom are in any
way equal to his other qualifications, we can only say
that it will require an opponent of first-rate ability
to beat him. This tournament, however, is by no means a
fair criterion of those qualities, for he had the
fortune and skill to get in no way punished, absolutely
winning the contest without so much as a black eye.
Thorpe, the unfortunate loser, is, there can be no
doubt, a very game man, but he will never be able to
obtain a front position in the P.R. It must, however,
be borne in mind that, as a game and determined fellow,
he did his best, and it is to be hoped that he will not
be forgotten either by his friends or by the winners.
All being over, the company returned to the metropolis,
which was reached before seven o’clock in the evening.

The money was given to Mace, at Mr. G. Smith’s, King Street, Norwich, on the following Thursday, when several matches were talked of, but nothing came of them. After a sparring tour, we find our hero in London, making Nat Langham’s his headquarters, and offering to do battle either with Mike Madden or Bob Brettle, of Birmingham, at 10st. 3lbs., for £100 a side. He was also “nibbled at” by Job Cobley (nicknamed by Baron Nicholson “the Elastic Potboy”) whose victories over Webb, Bob Travers (the black), and George Crockett, had brought him into the front rank of middle-weights; Cobley’s engagement with Mace going off, owing to the former being matched against Bob Brettle. Some pourparlers with Jack Grant also ended in talk, until, early in the month of September, Mace having left a deposit in the hands of the Editor of _Bell’s Life_, Mike Madden covered the same, and articles were signed for a fight for £50, to come off in the Home Circuit, on the 20th of October, 1857.

Mace was now in business as a publican, keeping the Swan Inn, Swan Lane, Norwich; and at the final deposit at Nat Langham’s on the previous Thursday we heard an ominous whisper to the effect that there would be “no fight;” while, _per contra_, we were assured by both parties that each meant fighting and nothing else. On the Friday Mr. Lockwood, of Drury Lane, on the part of Madden, and Langham, on the part of Mace, attended at the Editor’s Office, and were there informed, as that gentleman could not be present, he should exercise the power vested in the stakeholder by the articles of naming the referee, and further that he should appoint Dan Dismore to that office, to which neither of the parties made the slightest objection. On the Monday the men went to scale at Mr. Lockwood’s, and here there were loud complaints on the part of Mace’s friends about Madden’s style of weighing, they stating him to be overweight, also that he jumped off the scale before the balance was fairly ascertained, and, putting on his clothes, refused to return. On the other hand Madden and Co. averred that Mace never meant fighting, that after the weighing he went out of the house in his shirt sleeves, and did all in his power to attract the attention of the police; and that in the evening he went to Gravesend, where he ostentatiously paraded himself, and even proclaimed the whereabouts of the coming mill.

On the Tuesday morning, on reaching the ground, we found an excellent ring, which was quickly surrounded by a large number of Corinthians and other Ring patrons, prepared to witness what many expected――a real good battle. To their disappointment and surprise, however, when all other preliminaries were arranged, Mace and his friends stepped forward, and formally objected to Dan Dismore as referee, on the ground that he had money on the fight. Dan instantly replied that he had not a shilling on the result, and that he should not have been present had he not received the letter appointing him referee. Mace’s party persisted in their objection, and various propositions were made, among others one by Mike Madden himself, who said he was willing to fight with two umpires and without any referee; but to this Mace objected, as “contrary to the articles.” Several gentlemen were proposed for the onerous and thankless office, who either declined or were objected to; so at last what was to have been the second fight (between Clamp and Gibbs) was got off amidst disgraceful confusion, Clamp proving himself the best man in one hour and thirty minutes. Both Madden and Mace remained in or at the side of the ring while the men were fighting, and after some more discussion of the vexed question of a referee, all returned to London. On the Wednesday, after a patient hearing of both sides, the stakeholder declared that Mace having refused to go to the scratch, when called upon by the duly-appointed referee, had thereby deliberately violated the articles and forfeited the stake, £100, which in due course was handed over to Madden. An unusual amount of irrelevant correspondence, statements as to shares of stake-money, training expenses, unpaid bets, promises and defalcations, from Mace, Madden, and Messrs. Lockwood, Hayes, Dismore, Keene, &c., followed. Finally, after six months’ quibbling, a new match was agreed on, and the 10th of March, 1858, named as the day of battle.

Well do we remember the early muster on that spring morning at the Eastern Counties Railway terminus at Shoreditch. There was “old Mike,” whose deafness, solidity, and stolid look had already earned him the prefix of “old,” though he numbered but thirty summers; he was buttoned up to the chin, in an old-fashioned drab box-coat, with a deep-red neckerchief, and a sealskin cap, the ears of which completely covered his ears and cheeks. He was anxiously inquiring of the group around for his “friend the enemy,” as the time for starting was near. We entered the station. Could it be true? We had the word of the traffic station-master for it. After a brief conversation on the platform, in which some “d――d kind friend” inopportunely alluded to the lamentable result of “ould Mike’s” last battle――that with Jack Jones, of Portsmouth――Jem, with a nod of the head and a cheerful expression, left his friends, and seating himself in an Ipswich carriage just about to steam out of the station, coolly waved a “good-bye” to the astonished group! Another account states, that after Madden and Co. had gone down by the appointed train, Mace was found in a neighbouring coffee-house, whither he had taken refuge from an impending arrest by the police! It is not of much consequence which is the correct version, as the claim of Madden to forfeit from the absence of his opponent was made and fully admitted.

That the pugilistic qualifications and cleverness of Mace were still believed in by some of the best judges of boxing is shown by the fact that “George Brown’s novice,” as Jem was now called, was thought good enough to back against Bob Brettle of Birmingham, whose conquests of Roger Coyne, Sam Simmonds, and Bob Travers were then fresh in the memory of Ring-goers. George Brown, Billy Richardson, and Jack Macdonald were sponsors, and these knowing ones declared that the 21st September, 1858, would show “the coming champion.” Nevertheless, serious misgivings haunted the public mind, not only when the last deposit of the £200 stakes was “tabled,” but even on the short railway journey which preceded the voyage per steamer to Shell Haven, odds being taken that there would be “no fight that day.” Great, therefore, was the satisfaction when it was found that Mace was on board the boat, not only well but cheerful, and apparently confident. After a pleasant run down the river, a fitting spot was selected on the banks of the Medway, where Tom Oliver and his assistants pitched an excellent ring on a lovely piece of greensward.

The Champion of the Midlands was first to cast his beaver into the ropes, amidst hearty cheering, Alec. Keene and Jem Hodgkiss attending as his esquires. Mace soon after showed, advised by Jack Macdonald and Jemmy Massey. It wanted ten minutes to twelve when the men shook hands, the seconds retired to their corners, and the men threw themselves into position for

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――There was very little time lost in
manœuvring, both men surprising their friends by an
almost nervous eagerness to get at it. Mace at once
made play, and let go both hands in the style that had
so disconcerted Thorpe; Brettle, however, making a good
stop or two, and returning wildly, getting two or three
severe cracks, one on the ear so specially heavy that
the blood appeared from his auricular organ, and the
first event was scored to Mace. After a short rally
Brettle closed; Mace hit up sharply, but Bob got the
crook and fell over him. The friends of Mace thought
their man meant fighting, and the odds which had been
offered――5 and 6 to 4 on Brettle――subsided to evens.

2.――The men threw themselves into good form; Brettle
tried to lead off with the left, but was stopped
neatly, and after another offer and a shift, Jem landed
his right smartly on Brettle’s left ear. Again there
was a stop or two, and Mace got home slightly; Brettle
retreated, and measuring his man as he came in, let go
his right on the left side of Mace’s head, on the
temple; down went the Norwich man, and the round was
over. Alec Keene claimed “first knock-down” for
Brettle, and the referee awarded it. Mace was picked up
by his attentive seconds, when a strange commotion was
seen in his corner; he glared round for a few seconds,
then suddenly swooned in Jack Macdonald’s arms. Mac and
Massey shook him, and the latter bringing a stool into
the ring, tried to seat him thereon. In vain: his legs
fell about like Mr. Punch’s, or the nether limbs of a
_fantocchino_, and his toes determinedly found their
way under the ropes. The syncope was so determined that
the Brums began to roar and jeer, and the Eastenders to
swear; when the enraged Mac administered such a
vice-like pinch to his man’s ear, that he roared
lustily, but the next moment was as insensible as ever
to all outward things. “Time” was now called, and
“Time!” was repeated by the referee. Jem was set up in
a perpendicular position, but those recalcitrant legs
sent up their heels, and Jem would have assumed a
devotional attitude, but that the “stunted
lifeguardsman” held him up by main strength, while his
head fell sideways on Macdonald’s shoulder. “Time!” the
eight seconds’ “grace” were counted. “There are none so
deaf as those that won’t hear,” was once more verified,
and Bob Brettle was declared the conqueror, the actual
fight having lasted _three minutes_. On the boat it was
observed that Brettle’s last hit had raised a very blue
mouse on Jem’s cheek-bone, but that it had knocked him
out of time――_credat Judæus Apella_――indeed we are sure
no Sheeny from Houndsditch would believe it.

The elation of Brettle’s friends at this victory led them into a mistake. They matched their man against Tom Sayers, and on September 20th, 1859, in a short quarter of an hour, seven rounds disposed of the Brum’s pretensions, as may be fully read in our last chapter.

Mace’s next match remains a yet-unexplained riddle. He was backed on this occasion by Bob Brettle――the man who had defeated him with such apparent ease――against one of his own townsmen, Posh Price, at 10st. 10lbs., for £50 a side. Price was a boxer of proved game and no mean capabilities. The deposits were posted by Brettle in the name and on the behalf of a man called in the articles “Brettle’s Novice,” and it was not until the last deposit that it was declared that Jem Mace was the “Novice” thus described.

On the 25th of January, 1859, after the gallant battle between Dan Thomas (the Welshman) and Charles Lynch (the American), in which the former was victorious, a special train having conveyed the spectators and combatants from London Bridge to Aldershot Common, the ring was cleared and re-formed by Fred Oliver and his assistants. No sooner, however, had the ropes been tightened, and the stakes driven firm, than, to the chagrin of the expectant assemblage, a detachment of the rural constabulary made their appearance, and a move into the adjacent county of Surrey became imperative. The transit was quickly and safely effected, and no sooner was the ring adjusted, than “Brettle’s Novice,” attended by his backers, tossed his cap into the ropes in token of defiance, and stood revealed to all as Jem Mace of Norwich. His condition and bearing not even the most prejudiced could find fault with. The men went to scale on the previous day at George Brown’s, “The Bell,” Red Lion Market, both being well within the 10st. 10lbs. Posh Price, who was born in 1832, and won his first victory in the Ring at eighteen years of age, was as yet unbeaten. He had successively defeated Mush, Boucher, Leighton, Benson, Holland, Liddy, and lastly the once renowned Ben Terry, who fought a draw with Harry Broome. In all these battles he had borne himself bravely, and showed no mean amount of skill. It was not, therefore, to be wondered at that Price was favourite in the betting at 5 and 6 to 4. The Birmingham man was seconded by Sam Simmonds and Joe Wareham, while Mace had behind him Jem Hodgkiss and Brettle. Price, whose age was twenty-seven――Mace being one year older――was all his friends could desire in point of condition, and his hardy, good-natured mug wore a smile of confidence in the result of

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――On the retirement of their seconds the
belligerents at once threw themselves into attitude,
the superior freedom of Mace’s style being quite
evident to the initiated. He played round his man,
watching him keenly; Price looking somewhat puzzled how
to begin. Presently Posh broke ground, and retreated,
keeping a good guard; Mace followed his man closely,
and, getting well within distance, popped in his left
on Price’s mazzard, but was countered by Price’s left
on the forehead. Mace stuck to his work, and caught
Price right and left in the head. Posh fought
determinedly in the exchanges, but Mace drove him back,
planting the left on Price’s right eye with such
severity that the ruby streamed down his cheek. (First
blood for Mace.) After a break and a little wincing
they again got within striking distance, when some
heavy exchanges ended in Price being on the grass.

2.――The men went at once to work, and some slashing
exchanges followed, in which Mace, partly from a hit,
and partly from a slip, was down. In an instant he was
on his feet again, and as the Brum, somewhat surprised,
retreated before him, followed him close. Near the
ropes Posh made a stand, and hit out with both hands.
After some fine two-handed fighting in favour of Mace,
Price was on the ground, Mace walking smilingly to his
corner.

3.――Mace forced the fighting. He led off with
astonishing rapidity, doing terrible damage to the
Brum’s dial and cranium. Posh stood to his guns like a
man, but Mace’s metal was too heavy for him.
Nevertheless, in the exchanges, Price got in a hot ’un
on Mace’s jaw, and another on his neck, that made
Master Jem look serious, and although the odds had
changed, the Brums took heart from the general opinion
of Mace’s deficiency of game. In the close both were
down at the ropes.

4.――Mace led off rather short, and as he got nearer
Price planted his left in the middle of his opponent’s
nob. (Tremendous cheering from the Brums). Mace drew
himself together, and fighting rapidly, got heavily on
Posh’s eye and mouth. The gallant Brum paused a moment,
then dashed in, and after a magnificent rally, in which
Mace astonished the spectators by the straightness and
rapidity of his hitting, Price went down against his
will.

5.――Jem lunged out his left, delivering an enlivener on
his adversary’s brain pan, and getting cleverly away
from the Brum’s returns. After a little sparring, Mace
got again within distance, and in some clipping
left-handed exchanges got with tell-tale force on the
Brum’s dial. Posh, scorning to retreat, stood his
ground, and fought up. In the fall both were down,
Price undermost.

6.――Mace opened the ball with a shot from the left,
when the Brum retreated. Jem followed, and again got in
the left with telling effect. They closed at the ropes,
when Posh, who was catching pepper, got down.

7.――Heavy counters, each doing execution on the head.
As Price retreated, Mace followed, and as the Brum
turned on nearing the ropes, Mace caught him a terrific
right-hander on the head, just behind the ear, opening
a cut from which the carmine ran copiously; Posh, who
appeared dazed by the effect of this rasper, went down
on his knees in the middle of the ring.

8.――Price came up slowly but steadily; in an instant
Mace dashed in with electric rapidity, right and left,
in his opponent’s damaged frontispiece; Price was,
however, by no means idle, and stuck to Mace in the
counter-hitting. In a rally Posh was down.

9.――Mace came with alacrity from his corner; he was
almost unmarked, while poor Posh’s countenance was out
of shape in every feature. Still he kept his form――such
as it was――and tried to stop his man, too often
ineffectually. Mace drove him to the ropes, and would
have screwed him up for fibbing, but Posh slipped down
through his hands.

10.――Posh made a desperate attempt to lead off, but
Mace stopped him artistically, and caught him a smasher
on the proboscis for his temerity; Posh in turn
retreated, when Mace followed him. Price, to avoid a
heavy right-hander, ducked his head, and in doing so
caught his foot in the grass and fell.

11th and last.――The combatants came up readily. The
Brum seemed determined upon a last effort to stem the
tide, and the Norwich man at once accepted the attack.
The exchanges were effective and sharp, and while the
men were thus fighting, Mace hit his man a terrific
blow on the left arm, which caused Price to drop his
hand, and stagger to his corner. A swelling on the fore
arm was instantly visible, and it was stated that the
small bone of the limb was fractured. Sam Simmonds
stepped forward and declared that his man was disabled,
and he would not permit the game fellow (who had risen
to his feet to renew the contest) to fight any longer.
The sponge was accordingly thrown up, and Mace hailed
the winner, the battle having lasted exactly 17
minutes.

REMARKS.――We do not remember to have seen such severe
and cutting punishment administered in so short a time
in any battle of modern times. Mace, in this contest,
not only justified the high opinion of his scientific
quality which we always entertained, but displayed a
steady resolution for which none had given him credit.
True, he was never in danger of losing the fight, and
as round succeeded round his superiority became more
manifest. He fought throughout with wonderful
quickness; and that his hitting was as hard as it was
precise poor Posh’s battered mug and bruised carcase
fully testified. Of the gallant Brum, we can only say
he was out-classed, out-generalled, stopped, foiled,
and punished at all points; and, as he did all that
became a man, he deserves the respect of all who admire
pluck and resolution; and it should not be forgotten
that at last his defeat was due to an unfortunate and
disabling accident, not to a surrender. The £100 was
given over to Mace on the Tuesday following, at Bob
Brettle’s “White Lion,” Digbeth.

Mace was now a publican, hanging out his sign at the Swan Inn, Swan Lane, Norwich, and exhibiting his talents almost nightly at the “Baronial Hall,” West End, Norwich. In the early months of 1859 we read, “Jem Mace, wishing to try his hand once again in the London P.R., will fight any man at 10st. 7lbs., in four months from the first deposit, for £100.” This was answered by Job Cobley; but for a time the friends of the “Elastic Potboy” hung back, and George Crockett offered himself at 10st. This weight was simply preposterous as a limit for Mace. Dan Collins, too, Sayers’s first opponent, proposed; but, doubtless fortunately for himself and friends, the match went off upon a question of amount of stakes.

At length in November, 1859, Bob Travers (then known as “Langham’s Black”) responded to Mace’s cartel, and articles were drawn to fight on the 21st of February, 1860, for £100 a side.

The character and antecedents of Travers left no doubt in the minds of the patrons of pugilism that Massa Bob would fully test the stuff of which Jem Mace was really composed. With the exception of a solitary defeat by Job Cobley, Travers’s reputation had been well won. In his first battle, October 29th, 1855, he beat Geo. Baker, in two rings (after an adjournment from October 19th) in twenty-three minutes, for £25 a side, at Tilbury. In February, 1856, he conquered Jesse Hatton, at Combe Bottom, in 76 minutes, during which 39 hard rounds were fought. George Crockett succumbed to his arm at Egham, in 37 rounds, occupying 114 minutes, on May 13 in the same year, in which also (he was fighting too often) he suffered his first defeat by Job Cobley, after a tremendous battle of 3 hours and 27 minutes, in which 110 rounds were fought. In January, 1857, he beat Cleghorn for £100 a side, on the Medway, in 36 rounds, 87 minutes, and in May 13th of the same year defeated the accomplished Bill Hayes, in 3¾ hours (!), the stakes being £100 a side. Beaten by Bob Brettle (Travers fell without a blow), January 27, 1858, he received a forfeit of £90 from Johnny Walker, who did not show, on the 25th May, 1858; and in April, 1859, beat the game and unflinching Mike Madden in 45 rounds, 97 minutes, at Ashford, Kent; and this brings us to his present engagement.

With such a deed-roll Travers’s chance was booked as a certainty by the circle at the “Cambrian,” where Massa Ebony was a “bright, particular star,” especially as many persisted in asserting the visible “white feather” in Mace’s plumage.

The men injudiciously delayed their departure from town until nine o’clock, and after a long journey by rail much time was lost before the excursionists got on board the “City of Rochester” steamer. John Heenan, the Benicia Boy, was among the voyagers, attended by Jack Macdonald, and was, as may be imagined, “the observed of all observers.” After a long water trip a debarkation was attempted in Essex, on an oft-visited spot, and there the ring was pitched, and all in readiness, when the police came in sight, and all were compelled to go on board again. After another steam trip of five miles a landing was effected in Kent. Travers, who won the toss for choice of corners, had for seconds Jerry Noon, and, to the mystification of many, Jem’s whilom patron Bob Brettle, with whom a feud had arisen. Bos Tyler and Jack Hicks attended upon Mace. Travers at the opening was an immense favourite, 2 to 1 being offered on him. It was five minutes to five o’clock when the men’s toilettes were completed and they stood up for

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――As they faced each other there could be no
doubt that the condition of the combatants was
faultless. Travers’s skin shone with an unmistakable
lustre, resembling a dark piece of fine old Spanish
mahogany. His massive and deep chest and broad lines
displayed a grand development of muscularity, denoting
the possession of exceptional strength. The only
circumstance that detracted from his general appearance
was his legs, and the looseness with which, like most
niggers, he was put together. He looked all over smiles
and grins, and as if perfectly confident he must be the
winner. Mace, possessing the superiority in height and
reach, with his keen eye, symmetrical frame, and
graceful freedom of attitude, looked from head to foot
an athlete to whom, if the heart were there, anything
might be possible. His friends declared that he had
“screwed his courage to the sticking place, and could
not fail,” and the event proved their trust to be well
grounded. Travers, after a little manœuvring round the
ring, tried to lead off with the left, but was short.
Mace was awake, and as Bob jumped back, Mace followed
him, and Bob again hitting out, Mace nailed him with
the left on the cheek, and then with the right on the
left peeper. In the close, after a smart dose of
fibbing, they struggled for the fall, when Mace threw
Bob, but not cleverly. There was an attempt to claim
first blood for Mace, but it was not admitted.

2.――The ice being fairly broken, the men were no sooner
up than at it. Bob again led off, out of distance, with
the left, then retreated with rapidity; Mace followed
him up, and some sharp exchanges followed; the Black
getting home on Jem’s mouth, while Mace was home with
both hands on the Woolly-one’s nob. In shifting
position, Travers got with his back on the ropes and
rolled down.

3.――Both men came eagerly from their corners, and at
once sparred for an opening. The Black, who was as
lively as a young kangaroo, hopped about the ring; Mace
kept to him, so at last, after hitting out without
effect, Travers got down. (Disapprobation.)

4.――The combatants came up smiling. As yet there had
been little harm done Travers, as usual, opened the
ball, planting the right on the body; in return, Mace
timed his man with fine precision, landing both left
and right effectively, the latter on the point of the
chin, when the Black went down on his hands and knees.

5.――After manœuvring and breaking ground, the men got
to the ropes in Travers’s corner; the Black, after
slight exchanges, getting down cunning. (There was an
appeal of “foul,” which the referee disallowed, saying
“Go on.”)

6.――As the Darkey, in somewhat ungainly fashion, was
dancing about the ring, Mace went to him, and at the
ropes planted both mauleys on the head with rattling
precision. In the close Travers had his back on the
ropes, when Mace tried to put on the hug; Travers got
down.

There was here a general cry of “Police!” and a posse of these unwelcome intruders came to the ropes, when Bob, in his anxiety to “make tracks,” nearly ran into the arms of the Philistines. Jerry Noon had also a narrow squeak for it, and had he not jumped into the river and swum to a boat, he would certainly have been nailed, as the Bobby who had singled him out did not give up the chase until up to his middle in water. The escape so pleased several of the lookers-on who had reached the steamer in boats safely, that a subscription was made to “dry Jerry’s clothes,” and liberally presented to him when on board. The battle thus interrupted had lasted 21 minutes, and as darkness would soon come on, the steamer’s prow was directed homewards, and the referee ordered a meeting for the next day.

At an early hour on Wednesday morning, the men and their backers were on board, and at a few minutes after nine Fred Oliver announced all to be in readiness. Mace was first to throw his castor in the ring, which action was immediately followed by Travers, who entered with the same grin of nonchalance as on the preceding day. Mace had scarcely a visible mark, while the black’s ebony complexion concealed all but a cut over the left eyebrow. A rumour was spread that Mace’s left arm was partially disabled; but this proved a _canard_, no doubt flown to influence the betting, the Black still being backed at 2 to 1. The seconds were the same as on the first day.

THE RENEWED FIGHT.

Round 1.――Just before the commencement of hostilities,
Travers proposed to back himself to any amount at
evens, and produced a roll of notes about as thick as
the steamer’s shore-rope for that purpose; but Mace
politely declined, regretting that his exchequer was
not so flourishing as to permit him to indulge in such
speculation. Travers, in taking the initiative, broke
ground with more haste than judgment. Jem again
followed him, got home with both hands, and, after a
close at the ropes, the Black slipped down anyhow.

2.――After a little sparring Mace got home beautifully
on Bob’s black-letter title-page, when Travers
retreated, hitting out wildly. Mace counter-manœuvred
and followed, when Bob paused a moment, then rushed in
hand-over-hand, but did not get home. Mace planted his
left with fine judgment, following it with a job from
the right; there was a little fibbing in the close, and
both down by the ropes.

3.――Travers again led with the left, the blow alighting
on Mace’s breast, when Mace caught him on the side of
the head. Bob retreated, and went down to avoid. (Bos
Tyler here appealed to the referee, who declined to
notice the get down. “Go on.”)

4.――The Black, all activity, was all over the ring,
Mace watching his gyrations keenly and following him
close up. After a little fiddling, Mace got near
enough, and planted his left sharply, but Travers,
ducking his head at the instant, caught the blow on the
top of his impenetrable skull. The Black tried to take
a lead, but did not get home; Mace, getting to
distance, planted a sharp left-hander in Bob’s face,
who fell immediately in the middle of the ring. (Loud
cries from Mace’s partisans of “Stand up! remember the
13th rule!”)

5.――Both men went eagerly to work, Mace got on a
stinger over the left eyebrow; after some wild
exchanges, in which Jem peppered the nigger handsomely,
both were down, Travers first to earth.

6.――Travers dashed to in-fighting, when Mace again
propped him beautifully, and after a scramble in the
close, Bob got down anyhow.

7.――Travers, leading with the left, again reached
Mace’s breast, when Mace stepped back and recovered
guard. As Bob now broke in turn Mace followed as usual,
and taking exact measure, popped in his left on the
Darkey’s thick lips; Bob again sidled and skipped about
the ring and as Jem was letting go a straight one the
Black fell, as a bystander observed, “with the wind of
the blow.”

8 to 14.――Similar in character, and an appeal by Hicks
to the referee followed by a “caution” to Travers from
that functionary. From the 15th to the 30th round
Travers pursued the same dropping tactics, getting home
with little effect at the opening of each round, but
unable to prevent Mace’s stinging deliveries, from
which his left eye was now fast closing, besides other
serious disfigurements. Loud disapprobation was
expressed at the Black’s shifty tactics, and in the
32nd round the referee got into the ring and went to
Travers’s corner to warn him of the danger he was
incurring. Bob assured him his fall was accidental,
from the state of his shoes and the ground.

33.――Travers fought his man foot to foot in a fine
rally, the hitting all in favour of Mace, and both
down.

34.――Bob tried to lead once more, but Jem countered him
beautifully, and the Black in getting away fell.

35 to 40.――Travers at the old game again, leading off,
getting home slightly, and then scrambling or slipping
down to avoid the consequences of standing up to his
man. That Mace was winning as fast as his opponent’s
shiftiness would allow was manifest. In the 57th and
last round, after hitting out, the Black shifted his
position, and as Mace was delivering his blow
deliberately threw himself down. The referee now
decided the battle against him, and Mace was hailed the
victor at the end of one hour and thirty-one minutes. A
scene of disgraceful confusion followed; Travers’s
friends assailing the referee with the foulest abuse,
and refusing to accept his decision. Travers shed
tears, and declared he was ready to fight on, refusing
to shake hands with his opponent. Travers was severely
punished; Mace’s bruises were unimportant.

After some acrimonious disputation and letter-writing, the referee’s decision was properly upheld by the stakeholder, and the money handed over to Mace at Mr. Smithers, “Golden Cross,” Charing Cross, Norwich, on the ensuing Friday week.

We have already noted the fact of the disruption of friendly relations between Mace and his quondam conqueror and subsequent friend and patron Bob Brettle. In the early months of 1859 this ill-feeling took the form of a challenge from Mace to Brettle, and some haggling between the disputants on minor details and conditions. Mace’s last two exhibitions had so far restored the much-shaken confidence of his admirers as to satisfy them, however otherwise inexplicable his “in and out running” might be, that, at his weight, none could “live with him,” when he really meant “to stay.” So they listened to his solicitation to give him a second trial “with the only man who had ever beaten him, and that by a fluke”(?). In reply to Jem’s challenge for £100 Brettle replied that being now a “bung” in a good way of business it would not pay him to train under £200. Holywell Lane and Club Row, and a “voice from Norwich” preferred a bigger stake, so the prelims. were soon settled. The 19th September, 1860, was named as the day, and Oxfordshire, as (half-way between London and Birmingham) the _locus in quo_. Accordingly, the London division took their departure from Euston Square, meeting Brettle and Co. at Wallingford Road; there all alighted, and, under the pilotage of a local amateur, a charming spot was selected. Many of the older Ring-goers, however, expressed doubts as to the judiciousness of the selection, and foreboded an interruption, which came all too soon. No time, therefore, was lost, and at a few minutes before noon the men shook hands, and began.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――As the men toed the scratch it was clear to
all that they were both all that could be wished in
point of condition. Mace had three or four pounds’
advantage in weight, and also a trifle in height and
length. Brettle, who looked rounder, bore a smile of
self-satisfaction on his good-natured mug, and as he
swung his arms in careless fashion, and raised his
hands, he nodded to a friend or two, as if quite
assured of the result. Brettle tried to lead off, but
Mace stopped him coolly, and tried a return, which was
prettily warded off by Brettle, who shifted ground. Bob
offered again, but was stopped, and Jem popped in a
nose-ender in return which drew Bob’s cork, and
established a claim of “first blood for Mace.” Bob
shook his head as if annoyed, and in he went ding-dong;
the exchanges all in favour of Mace, who hit
straightest, hardest, and oftenest. Brettle closed, and
Mace was under in the fall.

2.――Brettle exhibited some red marks indicative of
Mace’s handiwork, while Mace showed a mouse under the
left eye. Bob again opened the ball, but he was
baffled, and as he persevered Jem popped him prettily
on the nose, and then on the mouth, Brettle,
nevertheless, giving him a rib-bender with the right,
and on Mace retorting on his kissing organ Bob got
down.

3.――Brettle’s countenance bore increasing marks of
Mace’s skill as a face-painter, but he lost no time in
going to work; Mace stood to him, and sharp
counter-hits were exchanged; Mace on Brettle’s left
eye, Brettle on Mace’s jaw. Exchanges and a close; the
men separated, and Mace, in getting away, fell.

4.――Brettle was more cautious. He waited, and tried to
draw his man. After a little manœuvring Brettle, amidst
the cheers of the Brums, dropped on Mace’s conk a
rattler, producing the ruby. Jem looked rather serious,
and the Brums were uproariously cheerful. Bob tried it
again, but failed, for Mace was first with him with a
smasher on the mouth. Brettle bored in, but Mace threw
him cleverly, and fell on him.

5.――Brettle slow, being shaken by the blows and fall in
the last round. Mace waited for him, delivering right
and left straight as an arrow, and getting away
cleverly from the return. Bob followed him wildly,
getting more pepper; and in the end Brettle was down in
the hitting.