Chapter I: Tom Spring (champion)—1814–1824 (2)

REMARKS.—It is but common justice to Spring to assert, that he won
this battle three times before it was over. It is true that he had
no right to give a chance away, either against himself or his
backers; but he plainly saw that the battle was his own; he fought
without grumbling, and in acting so honourably, nay, generously, to
a fine, high-couraged, game opponent, that Oliver should not have to
say, “that he had not every opportunity to win, if he could.” What
was more important, however, it prevented any thing like a wrangle
being attempted. Spring, by his superior mode of fighting this day,
raised himself highly in the estimation of the Fancy in general; in
fact, the ring was much surprised that Oliver could do nothing with
him. The prejudice which so long remained against Spring in respect
to his not being a hard hitter, was removed in this battle. Oliver
was most terribly punished; while Spring, on the contrary, had not
the slightest mark on his face. The bravery of Oliver, and his
exertions to win, were above all praise. Spring, in the style of a
true Briton, “when the battle is ended, the heart of a lamb,” called
to see Oliver, on the Friday after the fight, when they shook hands
with each other in the same style of friendship as heretofore.
Oliver then told Spring that he had entertained an opinion, before
the fight, he was the stronger man; but that Spring was too long for
him.

On Tom Cribb’s retirement from the arena, Spring considered himself champion; and soon after his conquest over Oliver, in order that it might not afterwards be brought against him that he had left the prize ring silently, he offered, by public advertisement, March 25, 1821, a challenge to all England for three months. This challenge not having been accepted, although he offered to fight Neat for £500 a-side, on August 19, nearly five months after the period stated, he entered into articles of agreement of a more tender kind, and made a match “for better or for worse.” We wish that our personal reminiscences did not unpleasantly remind us that, as regards the lady she was all “worse,” and never showed signs of “better.” He then commenced proprietor of the Weymouth Arms Tavern, in Weymouth Street, Portman Square. Spring’s opening dinner took place on Thursday, the 6th of December, 1821. The swells mustered numerously round Mr. Jackson, who presided upon this occasion; and 140 persons sat down to a prime dinner, served up, in excellent style, by Spring in person. The evening was dedicated to harmony and good-fellowship.

After the sport at Moulsey, on Wednesday, June 12th, 1822, the great match was made between Spring and Neat, subject to the following articles:

“_Red Lion, Hampton, June 12, 1822._

“Mr. Elliott, on the part of Thomas Spring, and Thomas Belcher, on
the part of William Neat, have deposited £50 a-side, to make a match
on the following terms:—W. Neat agrees to fight T. Spring on
Tuesday, the 26th of November next, for a stake of £600 (£300
a-side), in a twenty-four feet ring, half-minute time. The place to
be named by Mr. Jackson, within forty miles of London, on the
Bristol road, and the umpires to be chosen on the ground. The second
deposit, upon the above conditions, £100 a-side, to be made at T.
Spring’s, Weymouth Arms, Weymouth Street, on the 12th of July,
between the hours of four and eight o’clock. The deposit to be
forfeited by the defaulter. The remainder of the stakes to be made
good at T. Belcher’s, the Castle Tavern, Holborn, on the 12th of
November. Mr. W. S. has received, and is answerable for, the deposit
of £100.”

On the 12th of November a sporting dinner took place at Belcher’s, to make the stakes good between Neat and Spring. Belcher, on the part of Neat, completed the stakes of £200; but Mr. Elliott, the backer of Spring, did not appear, when the chairman reluctantly declared the deposit down, £150, to be forfeited to Neat.

At a sporting dinner at the One Tun, on the Friday following, November 16th, Spring informed the company that he would have attended at the Castle Tavern, on the day appointed, but his backer wished him not to leave the country on any account, as he might take cold—Mr. Elliott asserting he would make it all right. He (Spring) was now ready to make a new match for £200 a-side, for the 10th of December.

At Harry Holt’s opening dinner, at the Golden Cross, Cross Lane, Long Acre, on Friday, November 22nd, 1822, the president informed Mr. Belcher, that if the stakeholder of the £150 was indemnified, the forfeiture of that sum by the backer of Spring (Mr. Elliott) would be given up to Neat. Mr. Belcher replied, he should receive a guarantee. The president then observed that the sporting world in general were anxious to have it decided which was the best man between Spring and Neat; and that the former could be backed for £200 a-side, to fight in the course of a fortnight. Mr. Belcher, in reply, stated, that Neat, since the match had been broken off, had conducted himself more like a bird out of cage than anything else; the “gaily circling glass” had been continually up to his mouth; the result was, he could not answer for his condition, and he would not make the match so soon as a fortnight: it ought to be, at least, a month. Neat had left London for Bristol, and he had no doubt, from his gay disposition, was playing the same sort of game there; but he would write to him immediately, and whatever answer Neat returned as to time, he would then make a fight.

Spring addressed the meeting and said he was certain that Neat was in as good condition as himself. He had fretted considerably about the match being off: and this, added to his participation of “Life in London,” since his training had been so abruptly brought to an end, it might be fairly stated that he was on a par with his opponent. But, to show how anxious he was for a fight, and that the sporting world should decide which was the best man, he would extend the time to next Tuesday three weeks: that was meeting Mr. Belcher half-way. (Loud cheers, and “Well said,” “Manly,” etc., from all parts of the room.) Not a day after that time would he agree to fight Neat; he should then quit the prize ring for ever, to attend to his family and business, in order to make up for his loss of time, and great expenses in which he had been involved, owing (unfortunately for himself) to the desertion of his backer, when so many gentlemen who were present at that meeting, had they been acquainted with the circumstances, would have stepped forward to make the match.

The Fives Court was well attended on Thursday, November 28, 1823, in order to give the game Bob Purcell a turn. Carter and Spring ascended the stage together. The latter pugilist addressed the spectators, previously to his setting-to, nearly in the following words:—“Gentlemen, I feel much disappointment in the match being off between myself and Neat. I hope he will get the forfeit of £150. He is most certainly entitled to it. It was no fault of mine the match did not take place; and to show that I meant fighting, I gave a week, then a fortnight, longer to Mr. Neat than I first intended, and am now ready to make the match for £200 a-side.” (Applause.) Mr. Belcher observed, “Gentlemen, I am here for Neat; and all I can say, is this—if any gentleman will indemnify me for the £150, I will make a match immediately; but on no other account.” Spring, in reply, stated, “that it could not be expected he should indemnify Mr. Belcher, but he was ready to put down any sum required immediately. (“Bravo!—that looks like fighting.”) He, however, would not make a match after that day—he had lost too much time already, and he was determined to follow his business in future, and to take his leave of the prize ring; therefore, the match must now be made, or never.” “Very fair,” from all parts of the Court. The set-to between Spring and Carter proved attractive and good.

Three months elapsed in idle reports respecting another match between Spring and Neat, when the following articles were drawn, which set the fancy on the _qui vive_:—

“_Castle Tavern, Holborn, Wednesday, March 12, 1823._

“William Neat agrees to fight Thomas Spring for £200 a-side, in a
twenty-four feet ring, half-minute time. To be a fair stand-up
fight; to take place on Tuesday, the 20th day of May. The money to
be placed in the hands of Mr. Jackson. The place and distance from
London to be left entirely to Mr. Jackson. An umpire to be chosen by
each party, and a referee to be named on the ground. £50 a-side is
now deposited in the hands of Mr. Jackson. £50 a-side more to be
deposited on Monday, the 31st of March, at Mr. Belcher’s, Castle
Tavern; and the remainder of the stakes of £100 a-side to be
completed on Monday, the 5th of May, also at Mr. Belcher’s. The
above stakes to be put down between the hours of eight and eleven
o’clock on each evening. The above deposit, or deposits, to be
forfeited, in case of either party not appearing on the specified
evenings to make the money good.”

T. Belcher signed on the part of W. Neat, and a well known gentleman amateur for T. Spring. Witness, P. E.

We preserve a little bit of justice’s justice which we think here was indisputably, impartially, and rightfully administered. Spring went into training at Brighton; he was accompanied by Tom Shelton, the latter being under articles to fight Josh. Hudson.

On Friday, April 4, 1823, a fight took place on the Downs, beyond the race-hill, between Daniel Watts and James Smith, the one a bricklayer’s labourer, the other a sawyer, and both residing in the place. An immense concourse of spectators assembled on the ground, which was just without the boundaries of the parish of Brighton, and in that of Ovingdean.

One of the men engaged in this contest, Smith, having died from congestion of the brain, Sir David Scott, a local magistrate, issued warrants for the apprehension of many parties present; and on the following morning, in consequence of information that Spring and Shelton, the celebrated pugilists, had borne an active part in the fight, they were also taken up, and brought before Sir David Scott, at a special sitting held at the New Inn. Considerable difficulty was experienced in procuring evidence, every one being anxious to conceal that he had been present; but at length several persons were found, whose testimony was in substance as follows:—That there was a person on horseback keeping the ring, and that Spring and Shelton, on foot, assisted, with whips in their hands, to keep the people back; and it was further proved that Spring had also a watch in his hand during the fight. On the strength of this evidence, Sir David Scott considered them to be accessories, having both acted in the capacity of ring-keepers, and one of them in that of time-keeper; he therefore ordered them to find bail, to keep the peace for twelve months. They both urged that they had come from London only on Tuesday or Wednesday, and that the match was made up several days before, so that they were totally ignorant of it until after their arrival at Brighton. Shelton also said, that in London, on occasions of this sort, when proceedings are taken against the principals, the umpires are never affected; but Sir David cut this argument short, by saying, that he could not consent to be guided by the practice or decisions of other magistrates, on any case that might come before him. They were unable to find bail, and were kept for a few days, at a public-house, in custody of one of the headboroughs.

Two other men, named Hazledean and Sherwood, one acting as bottle-holder to Smith, and the other as Watts’s second, were each ordered to find bail for twelve months.

Spring and Shelton, after being in custody for a week, in default of procuring the bail required of them, were liberated by Sir David Scott, on entering into their own recognizances, £100 each, to be of good behaviour for twelve months.

To all which we should merely say, with the Cornish jury, “Sarve them right.” They were imprudent, as men in training, and his worship leniently administered the law.

Tom Cribb had a jolly party at his tavern on Monday, May 3, 1823, as also had Tom Belcher. Spring was Cribb’s hero; Neat, the attractive man at the Castle Tavern. The stakes were made good for £200 a-side, and were deposited in the hands of Mr. Jackson. Spring in the course of the evening made his bow to the company; he was well received, and his health drank with great spirit. The same compliment was also paid to Neat in his absence. Mr. Belcher gave up £15 to Spring, respecting Neat’s forfeit at Bristol; therefore all disputes concerning money matters were settled. Spring offered to bet £100, according to Neat’s challenge; but Belcher said, “he had no authority to put down any money then; however, on the morning of fighting, Neat should bet him the £100.” “No!” replied Spring, “I am ready to bet the £100 now; but I shall have something else to do on the morning of the fight.” Both the principals were extremely fond of the match, and both Spring and Neat displayed the highest confidence in the event. Even betting was about the state of the thing. Spring, within the last few days, got up for choice. At Bristol the odds were high upon Neat.

Within a few days of the appointed time some of the magistrates of Berks, Wilts, and Somerset, displayed bad taste by issuing their documents to prevent an exhibition of this branch of the “fine arts” at any of the places recited. Mr. Jackson’s “chateau” at Pimlico was literally besieged by Corinthians on the Saturday previous to the fight, May 17, 1823; and the whole of the night his knocker was in motion, so numerous were the enquiries after the mill. At length the mist was dispelled; the office being given for Weyhill, Hampshire. The inns were immediately scoured for places by the stage coaches, and, at peep of day on Monday morning the roads from Gloucester, Newbury, Winchester, Bristol, Southampton, London, etc., were covered with vehicles of every description. By five o’clock in the afternoon not a bed could be procured at Andover, although a sovereign per head was offered. The “flooring” system was obliged to be adopted by many “downy” ones, and a carpet was considered a luxury. The principal taverns at Andover were filled with persons of the highest quality in the kingdom, and men and horses were obliged to put up with any shelter that could be got for money. The little towns and villages contiguous to Andover were equally overflowing with company, and thousands were on the road all night. The Mayor and Corporation of Andover, it seems, were “ear-wigged” to spoil the sport, but possessed too much sense to mulct the inhabitants of the neighbourhood.

Hinckley Down, where the battle took place, is delightfully picturesque. A hill at the back of the field formed an amphitheatre, not unlike Epsom race-course, and upwards of thirty thousand spectators had a fine view of the fight. The ring, under the superintendence of Mr. Jackson, was excellent. At one o’clock, Neat, arm-in-arm with his backer, Mr. Harrison, and Belcher, followed by Harmer, threw up his hat in the ropes amidst thunders of applause. About ten minutes afterwards Spring, with his backer, Mr. Sant, and Painter appeared, Cribb waiting for them. Spring very coolly walked up to the ropes, and dropped his beaver within them. He then shook hands with Neat, saying, “I hope you are well.” “I am very well, thank you; I hope you are,” was the reply of Neat. Spring was rather the favourite on the ground. The colours, an orange-yellow for Neat, were tied to the stakes by Belcher; the blue, for Spring, placed over them by Tom Cribb. Before the battle, Mr. Jackson entered the ring and addressed the spectators:—“Gentlemen, I have to inform you that no persons but the umpires and referee can be stationed close to the ropes; I have therefore to request that every gentleman will retire to some distance from the ring; and also, if necessity requires it, that you will give me your assistance to keep the ground clear, to prevent confusion, and to have a fair fight. I have refused to be referee, that I may walk about and attend to the ring.” (Bravo! and applause.) This address had the desired effect—the gentlemen retired to their places, the good consequences of which were that every individual had an uninterrupted view of the fight, and not the slightest disorder occurred. Oh, _si sic omnes_!

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The interesting moment had now arrived, all doubts and
fears as to a fight were at an end, and the ability of Spring to
obtain the Championship was about to be put to the test. Hands were
crossed and shaken, in token that no animosity existed. To describe
the intense interest of this vast assemblage is impossible. Spring
was fine as a star, strong as an ox, light and active as a deer, and
confident as a lion. His condition was tip-top; and in truth, could
not be better; his weight thirteen stone, three pounds. Neat was
equally an object of admiration; his partisans were highly delighted
with his appearance, and his frame was pronounced to have fully
answered the good effects of training. Indeed, two finer young men
could not have been opposed to each other, or a more equal match
made: Neat having slightly the advantage in weight over his rival.
Spring, cool, collected, firm, and confident, appeared to meet his
renowned and formidable opponent, who had obtained so much fame by
his conquest over the terrific Gas-light Man. Neat, equally
confident—nay, more so, if his countenance bespoke his mind—thought
it presumption for any boxer on the list to dispute his right to the
title of Champion. A pause of two minutes occurred in looking at
each other—dodging about for two minutes longer—Spring then let fly
with his left hand, but no mischief done. Neat missed the body of
his opponent with his right hand. Another long pause. Neat aimed a
tremendous blow with his right, which Spring stopped in great style.
(Applause from all parts of the ring.) A pause. Neat again attempted
his favourite slaughtering hit, which Spring parried, smiling and
nodding at his opponent. (Loud shouts of approbation from the
spectators.) Spring put down his hands, but Neat did not avail
himself of the chance. Spring immediately made himself up in one of
the finest attitudes for administering punishment ever witnessed,
and endeavoured to plant a hit with his right hand, which Neat
stopped in the most scientific manner. (The Bristolians shouting in
turn, “Bravo, Neat!” in fact applause from all parts of the ring.)
Neat missed the body of Spring with his left. Spring now went to
work, some blows were exchanged, but Spring’s hits were so severe
that Neat turned round. (“What do you think of that ’ere for
light-hitting?” a Cockney cove observed to a Bristol man who sat
close to him.) They followed each other over the ring, when Spring,
in retreating from some well-meant heavy blows, got into a corner
close against the stake, feeling with his heel whereabouts he was
situated; (“Now’s the time,” cried Tom Belcher;) but the defensive
position of Spring was so excellent that he was not to be got at
without great danger, which Neat perceiving did not get near enough
to do anything like execution. Spring fought his way out _à la_
Randall; a close ensued, when Neat had nearly got Spring off his
legs; but in struggling for the throw, Spring, with the utmost
agility, turned Neat over in his arms and sent him on the ground,
falling upon him. Between nine and ten minutes had elapsed. (The
chaff-cutters from the Long Town were now roaring with
delight—“Spring for ever—for anything—he can fight for a day and a
night into the bargain.”) Seven to four on Herefordshire.

2.—The superiority displayed by Spring in the preceding round rather
alarmed the backers of Neat. They did not expect it. The
“lady’s-maid fighter,” as he had been libelled—the “china-man,” as
he had been designated—the “light tapper,” as he had been
termed—thus to set at defiance the slaughtering hitter Neat; nay
more, to turn the scales and take the lead of him, operated severely
on their feelings. A long pause occurred. Spring stood as firm as a
rock, Neat unable to get at him; he, however, endeavoured to plant a
hit, but it fell short. Both men now made themselves up for
mischief, and counter-hits followed. Spring’s right went in so
severely over Neat’s eye that the claret followed instantly. Spring
exclaimed, “First blood, Neat.” This touch confused the Bristol hero
a little; but he tried to give his opponent a heavy blow, which fell
short. Spring, in return, gave him so sharp a nobber, that Neat
looked round, and was nearly going down.—(Disapprobation.) The
latter collected himself, and showed fight, when Spring fought his
way into a close, fibbed Neat with the utmost ease, and sent him
down. (The applause was like the roar of artillery. Two to one, and
“Neat has no chance—it’s all up with him.” Spring, while sitting on
his second’s knee, observed to Painter, smiling, “It is as right as
the day; I would not take £100 to £1, and stand it—he can’t hit me
in a week.”)

3.—The only chance now left to save a transfer of the Bristolians’
coin to the Metropolitan pockets, it would seem, was one of those
silencing hits by which Neat had acquired his milling fame, so as to
spoil Spring’s science, reduce his confidence, and take the fight
out of him. All the backers of Neat were on the gaze in anxious
expectation to see the “slogger” put in, which was to relieve their
fears, and produce a change in their favour. Shyness on both sides.
Spring endeavoured to plant a heavy right-handed hit, which Neat
stopped cleverly. (Great applause, and “Well done, Neat.”) The
latter smiled at this success, and Spring observed, “Well stopped!”
Rather a long pause. The toes of the combatants were close together,
and Spring not to be gammoned off his guard. Some blows were at
length exchanged, and Spring received so heavy a hit on his ribs,
that his face for the instant bespoke great pain, and his arms
dropped a little; but, in closing, Spring had decidedly the
advantage; and, in going down, Neat was undermost. (The Springites
were now as gay as larks, offering to back their man to any amount.)

4.—Neat, instead of going up and fighting at the head of his
opponent, where at least, he might have had a chance of planting
some of his tremendous blows, showed no signs of going in to fight.
Standing off to a superior, fine scienced boxer like Spring, almost
reduced it to a certainty, that in the event he must be beaten. In
his character as a heavy-hitting pugilist his strategy ought to have
been to smash his shifty opponent. He could not get an opening at
his length to put in any effective blows; in fact, he could not
break through the guard of Spring. Neat endeavoured to plant a
severe blow, which Spring stopped with the utmost ease. (Great
applause; and “You’ll break his heart, Tom, if you go on in that
way.”) Neat missed the body of Spring with his left hand. (Laughing,
and “It’s of no use” from the crowd.) A short rally near the ropes,
in which Spring had the best of it, and, in struggling for the
throw, Neat experienced a tremendous fall, added to the whole weight
of Spring on his body. (Shouting like thunder from thirty thousand
persons.)

5.—Neat informed Belcher (while sitting on Harmer’s knee) that his
arm was broken; it was, however, previously evident to every
disinterested spectator, that Neat had not a shadow of chance. Neat
made another stop; some blows were exchanged, and a slight rally
took place; Neat broke away, the latter gave Spring a slight hit,
and was going down, but he resumed his attitude. (Disapprobation.)
Spring, to make all safe, was in no hurry to go to work; another
pause ensued. Neat, as he was in the act of falling, received a hit,
when Spring added another one on his back. (The umpires called out
to Belcher, and told him “It was a stand-up fight; and Neat must
take care what he was about.” “I assure you, gentlemen,” replied Mr.
Jackson, “Neat received a blow.” Here Martin offered, in a very loud
manner, that he would bet £1,000 to £100 on Spring. During this
round, Belcher came to the side of the ropes, and in a low tone of
voice told Mr. Jackson, that Neat’s arm was “fractured.” “I perceive
it,” replied Mr. J., “but I shall not notice it to the other side.”)

6.—Neat hit short at Spring’s body with his left hand; holding his
right in a very different position from the mode when the battle
commenced. The Bristol hero was piping, and betraying symptoms of
great distress. Neat, however, gave a bodier to his opponent and
also made a good stop; but in a rally he received several blows, and
ultimately went down.

7.—Spring was as fresh as if he had not been fighting; and, although
it was now a guinea to a shilling, and no chance of losing, yet
Spring was as careful as if he had had a giant before him. The
latter got away from a blow. (“We can fight for a week in that
manner,” said Belcher. “Yes,” replied Painter; “but we have got the
general.” Neat received a severe hit on his head, and fell down on
his knees. The shouts of joy from the partisans of Spring, and roars
of approbation from the spectators in general beggared description.)

8th and last.—Neat endeavoured to plant a heavy blow on the body of
Spring, but the latter jumped away as light as a cork. A pause.
Spring was satisfied he had won the battle. Spring put in a hit on
Neat’s face; and when the latter returned, he again got away. In an
exchange of blows, Neat was hit down. When time was called Neat got
up and shook hands with Spring, and said his arm was broken, and he
could not fight any more. The battle was at an end in thirty-seven
minutes.

REMARKS.—We must admit that, as championship contests, there was
certainly a different colouring visible in the fights between Gully
and Gregson, and Cribb and Molineaux; to witness two big ones
opposed to each other for upwards of half an hour, and no mischief
done, was not likely to give satisfaction to the old-fashioned
admirers of milling. But the torrent of opinion was so strong in
favour of Neat, both in Bristol and London, on account of his
tremendous hitting, as to carry away like a flood all kind of
calculation on the subject. Spring was to have been smashed, and
nothing else but smashed. One hit was to have spoilt the science of
Spring: two were to have taken the fight completely out of him; and
the third to have operated as a _coup de grace_. Then why did not
Neat smash Spring, as he did the Gas? We will endeavour to answer
the question for the fallen Neat. Because he had a man of his own
size and weight, a boxer of superior talent to himself, pitted
against him: one that was armed at all points, and not to be
diverted or frightened from his purpose. His blows were not only
stopped, but all his efforts to break through the guard of his
antagonist were rendered of no avail. Hence it was that the fighting
of Neat appeared so defective in the eyes of his friends and
backers. He was out-generalled; and the fine fighting of Spring
laughed to scorn all the much-talked-of tremendous hitting of his
opponent. In truth, Neat could not plant a single effective hit. In
the fourth round, Neat asserted his arm received a serious injury,
and one of the small bones was broken; but we have no hesitation in
asserting, that Spring had won the battle before it occurred. Spring
triumphantly disproved the current libel on his character, that “he
could not make a dent in a pound of butter.” To give punishment, and
to avoid being hit, is deemed the triumph of the art of boxing.
Randall was distinguished for this peculiar trait in all his
battles, Spring adopted the same mode, and by so doing he did not
disgrace his character as a boxer: on the contrary, he showed
himself a safe man to back, and reduced success to a certainty.
Spring called on Neat after the battle, whom he found in bed, and
his arm put to rights by a surgeon. The latter said, “I am not
beaten, but I lost the battle by the accident.” Spring generously
made Neat a present of ten pounds. Spring arrived in town on
Wednesday night, but he did not sport the colours of his adversary
until after he had quitted the town of Andover, and received the
shouts and smiles attendant on victory from the populace in all the
towns through which he passed. He had a slight black mark on his
eye, and his arm in a sling, one of the bones of his right hand
having received an injury.

The abrupt conclusion of the battle produced sensations among the backers of Neat not easily described, and such coarse expressions were uttered by the disappointed ones as we cannot give place to in print. The Bristolians were outrageous in the extreme; a few of them positively acted like madmen; others were dejected and chapfallen. Neat was thought to be invulnerable by his countrymen, and also by the majority of sporting people throughout the kingdom. A few silly persons, in their paroxysm of rage and disappointment, pronounced the above event a cross.

We feel anxious for the honour of the ring, and no exertions on our part shall be wanting to preserve it. Tom Belcher and Neat both courted inquiry on the subject. It was the expressed opinion of a spectator of the fight, that “if Neat had possessed four arms instead of two, he never could have conquered Spring.”

It is utterly impossible to describe the anxiety which prevailed in the metropolis to learn the event of the battle on Tuesday evening, May 20, 1823. Belcher’s house was like a fair; Randall’s crowded to suffocation; Holt’s not room for a pin; Harmer’s overflowing; Shelton’s like a mob; Eales’ overstocked; and Tom Cribb’s crammed with visitors. Both ends of the town, East and West, were equally alive, and profited by the event. Hampshire had not had such a turn since the day when Humphries and Mendoza fought at Odiham. Thus was good derived by thousands of persons not in any way connected with the event. Several wagers were won in London after eight o’clock at night on Spring—so high did Neat stand in public opinion.

At Shelton’s benefit, May 22nd, 1823, after several spirited bouts, Spring was loudly called for; he addressed the assemblage in the following terms:—“Gentlemen, I return you my sincere thanks for the honour you have done me to-day, and I hope my future conduct will equally merit your kind attention. I promised to set-to with Shelton; but having met with an accident (his hand was tied up with a handkerchief), I trust you will excuse me; at all other times, you will find me willing and ready to obey your commands.” Shelton returned thanks; and Belcher likewise informed the audience that his benefit took place on Tuesday, May 27, when Neat would be present, in order to convince the amateurs that his arm was broken in the fight with Spring. The latter received from Mr. Jackson the £200 of the battle-money as the reward of victory. Mr. Jackson also publicly declared, for the satisfaction of the sporting world, that, in company with two eminent surgeons, he had seen Neat; and those two gentlemen had pronounced the small bone of his arm to have been broken.

Spring now paid a visit to his native place. Fortune had favoured him, and he was not unmindful of old friends. Here he was also not only remembered, but respected; and a cup, made by Messrs. Grayhurst and Harvey, of the Strand, was presented to him. This cup, known as “the Hereford Cup.” The inscription and description are as follows:—

“1823.
TO THOMAS WINTER,
Of Fownhope, in the County of Hereford,
This Cup was presented,
By his Countrymen of the Land of Cider,
In Token of their Esteem for the Manliness and Science
Which, in many severe Contests in the Pugilistic Ring,
Under the name of
SPRING,
Raised him to the proud Distinction of
THE CHAMPION OF ENGLAND.”

The inscription is surrounded by a handsome device of apples, etc., at the bottom of which is the representation of two game-cocks at the close of a battle, one standing over the other. On the other side of the cup is a view of the P.R., with two pugilists in attitudes. Upon the top or lid of the cup is a cider-barrel placed on a stand. The inside is gilt; and it is large enough to hold a gallon of “nectar divine.” It has two elegantly chased handles, and a fluted pedestal.

About this period a new milling star arose in the west, in the person of Jack Langan; and during a tour in the north of England some correspondence took place between them, which is not worth reprinting. On Thursday, October 23, 1823, at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, Belcher, on the part of Langan, deposited £50 towards making a match for £300 a-side with Spring. On the articles being completed, Spring offered £100 to £80, p. p., that he won the battle. Monday, December 1, 1823, the backers of the “Big Ones” dined together at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, but neither Spring nor Langan showed upon the occasion. However, when time was called by the president of the D. C., the blunt was ready. The Ould Champion (Tom Cribb) who attended on the part of his boy, Spring, said that he had only one hundred pounds to put down; while, on the behalf of Langan, Belcher insisted that the spirit of the articles required £150, and he was ready to put down £150 for Langan. The question was fairly discussed by the meeting; and the president decided in favour of the majority—that if £100 a-side were put down, the articles would be complied with. The Ould Champion rose with some warmth, and said, “He was not particular, and if the other party wished it, he would make the £300 a-side good immediately; or he would increase the match between Langan and Spring up to 1,000 guineas. He (Tom Cribb) was quite certain that Langan meant fighting, and if the latter wished to increase the stakes, he and his party had an opportunity of doing it.”

On Thursday, January 1, 1824, the whole of the stakes of £600 were made good over a sporting dinner at Tom Cribb’s. When time was called, Belcher showed at the mark on the part of Langan, and put down £150. Cribb also, for his boy Spring, instantly fobbed out £150. At the head of the table, before the president, was placed the “Ould Champion’s” silver cup, and Spring’s cup was also seen before the deputy-president. The John Bull fighter was present, and, by way of keeping the game alive, offered to give two guineas to fight Langan, let him win or lose, for £200 a-side; and likewise, that he would take ten guineas for £200 a-side with Spring. The true courage of Josh. Hudson was greatly admired, and loudly applauded. The dinner was good, the wines were excellent, and the company separated well pleased with their evening’s entertainment. Spring was decidedly the favourite, at two to one; two and a half to one was also betted; and in one instance £300 to £100 was laid. In consequence of Langan being a complete stranger to the sporting world the fancy were inclined to bet the odds, instead of taking them.

The sight at Worcester on Wednesday, January 7, 1824, was beyond all former example. Upwards of thirty thousand persons were present; nay, several calculators declared, to the best of their belief, that not less than fifty thousand people were assembled. Proprietors of splendid parks and demesnes; inmates from proud and lofty mansions; groups from the most respectable dwellings; thousands from the peaceful cot; and myriads from no houses at all—in a word, it was a conglomeration of the fancy. Peers, M.P.s, yokels of every cast, cockneys, and sheenies throwing “away their propertish” without a sigh that it cost so much “monish” to witness the grand mill. The roads in every direction round Worcester beggared description. The adventures at the inns would furnish subjects for twenty farces, and the company in the city of Worcester was of so masquerading a character as to defy the pen; even the pencil of a George Cruikshank would be at fault to give it effect. The grand stand was filled to an overflow in every part, with two additional wings or scaffolds erected for the occasion. Ten shillings were paid for the admission of each person. The masts of the vessels in the river Severn, which flowed close behind, moored on each side of the stand, were overloaded with persons; and even temporary scaffolds, about two stories high, outside of the wagons, were filled by anxious spectators, regardless of danger, so great was the public curiosity excited by this event. Let the reader picture to himself a spacious amphitheatre, encircled by wagons, an outer roped ring within for the many-headed, who stood up to their knees in mud. What is termed the P. C. Ring was raised about two feet from the ground, covered with dry turf, with a cart-load of sawdust sprinkled over it. The race-course was so intolerably bad and full of slush that all the scavengers and mudlarks from the metropolis could not have cleansed it in a week. Outside the wagons the ground displayed one complete sheet of water; and several lads, who were jolly enough to save a few yards of ground by jumping over ditches, measured their lengths in the water, receiving a complete ducking, to the no small amusement of the yokels. What will not curiosity do? Here swells were seen sitting down in the mud more coolly than if lolling on a sofa. Not a place could be obtained in the stand after ten o’clock. The city of Worcester was full of gaiety early in the day; the streets were filled by the arrival of coaches and four, post-chaises, mails, and vehicles of every description, blowing of horns, and the bells ringing. A Roman carnival is not half so hearty a thing as a prize-fight used to be when the people’s hearts were in it.

Spring rode through the town in a stylish barouche and four (Colonel Berkeley’s) about twelve o’clock. The postilions were in red, and everything _en suite_. He arrived on the ground by half-past twelve, amidst the shouts of the spectators, and drove close up to the ropes in a post-chaise. He threw his hat into the ring, accompanied by Tom Cribb and Ned Painter. He was dressed with striking neatness. At this period all were on the look-out for Langan, but a quarter of an hour had elapsed, and no Langan—half an hour gone, and no Paddy—three-quarters over, and still no Irish Champion in sight. Spring pulled out his watch, and said, “It is time.” In the midst of the hour, waiting for the arrival of Langan, the right wing belonging to the stand gave way, and fifteen hundred persons, at least, were thrown in a promiscuous heap. It was an awful moment. To give any description of the feelings of the spectators baffles attempt. Spring turned pale, and said, “How sorry I am for this accident.” In a few minutes composure was restored, it being ascertained that nothing material had occurred, except a few contusions, and some of the persons limping away from the spot. “Thank God!” ejaculated Spring, “I would not have had it happen while I was fighting for a hundred thousand pounds!” The John Bull boxer had now become impatient, and exclaimed, “This is strange! Where’s my man?” “I’ll bet ten to one,” said a swell, “he don’t mean to come at all.” “I’ll take it, sir,” said an Irishman, “a thousand times over.” “No,” was the reply—“I meant I would take it.” The stakes would certainly have been claimed by Spring, but no precise time was specified in the articles. It was, as the lawyers say, a day in law—meaning “any time within the day:” the time had not been mentioned in black and white. Nearly an hour had elapsed, when several voices sung out from the stand, “Josh. Hudson! Josh. Hudson! Langan wishes to see you.” The John Bull fighter bolted towards the place like lightning, and in a few minutes afterwards shouts rending the air proclaimed the approach of the Irish Champion. He did not, like most other boxers, throw his castor up in the air, but in the most modest way possible leaned over the ropes and laid it down. He immediately went up and shook hands with Spring. The latter, with great good nature, said, “I hope you are well, Langan.” “Very well, my boy; and we’ll soon talk to each other in another way.” The men now stripped, when Reynolds went up to Spring, and said, “I understand you have got a belt on, and whalebone in it; if you persist in fighting in such belt, I shall put one on Langan.” Spring replied (showing a belt such as are worn by gentlemen when riding), “I have always fought in this, and shall now.” “Then,” replied Reynolds (putting on a large belt, crossed in various parts with a hard substance), “Langan shall fight in this.” “No, he won’t,” said Cribb; “it is not a fair thing.” “Never mind,” urged Spring, “I’ll take it off;” which he did immediately. Josh. Hudson and Tom Reynolds were the seconds for Langan, and the Irish Champion declared he was ready to go to work. The colours were tied to the stakes; and, singular to state, black for Langan, which he took off his neck and blue for Spring. “This is new,” said Josh.; “but nevertheless, the emblem is correct as to milling (laughing); it is black and blue; I’ll take one hundred to one, we shall see those colours upon their mugs before it is over.” The time was kept by Lord Deerhurst, afterwards Earl of Harrington, who was also Spring’s umpire, while Sir Harry Goodricke was umpire for Langan; Colonel Berkeley acted as referee. Five to two, and three to one on Spring.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—On stripping, the bust of Langan was much admired for its
anatomical beauty; his arms also were peculiarly fine and athletic;
and his nob looked like a fighting one. His legs were thin; his
knees very small, and his loins deficient as to strength. It was
evident he had been reduced too much in training. Langan did not
exceed twelve stone four pounds, and was nearly two inches shorter
than his opponent. Spring was in fine condition; cool and confident,
and a stone heavier than his adversary. On placing themselves in
attitude, the advantages were manifest on the side of the English
Champion. The combatants kept at a respectful distance from each
other; both on the look-out for an opening. Spring at length made a
hit, which Langan stopped with skill. The Champion slowly advanced,
and Langan kept retreating, till he was near the stake at the corner
of the ring. At this instant the position of Langan was not only
fine but formidable, and Spring did not view it with contempt. The
latter let fly right and left, and Langan’s left ogle received a
slight touch. Spring got away from a heavy body blow. A pause. An
exchange of blows, but no mischief done; Langan broke ground well.
Another pause. Langan again in the corner, smiling, in a position
armed at all points; Spring’s eye measuring his opponent, but
hesitating to go in. Langan endeavoured to plant a body blow with
his left hand, when Spring jumped away as light as a cork. Here
Langan put his thumb to his nose, by way of derision. The latter
stopped Langan’s left hand. “Fight away, Jack,” said Josh. Hudson,
“he can’t hurt nobody.” Some blows were exchanged sharply, when the
John Bull fighter, and Tom Reynolds, exclaimed, “First blood!” “No,”
replied Spring. “Yes,” urged Hudson, “it is on your lip.” A long
pause. Langan made a good stop with his right hand. Some hits passed
between the combatants, when they closed, and a severe struggle
ensued to obtain the throw; both down, but Langan uppermost. This
round occupied nine minutes. “This battle will not be over in half
an hour,” said a good judge.

2.—It was seen, in this early stage of the battle, that Langan would
require heavy work to take the fight out of him. Spring was very
cautious, and appeared as if determined not to receive any of
Paddy’s clumsy thumps. A long pause. Langan hit Spring with his left
hand on the body. The latter planted a tremendous facer on the top
of Langan’s nose, that produced the claret; but the Irishman shook
it off. Science displayed on both sides. After a long pause Spring
put down his hands. The English Champion appeared to have made up
his mind not to be hit, but to be liberal in the extreme—to give and
not to take. Langan again displayed skill in stopping. (At this
juncture the left wing of the temporary scaffold erected for the
accommodation of the spectators, gave way with a tremendous crash,
and upwards of one thousand persons, from the height of thirty feet,
were precipitated one upon the other in one confused mass. The
countenance of Spring, whose face was towards the accident,
underwent that sort of sensation which did honour to his feelings
and to his heart—he appeared sick with affliction at the
circumstance, put up his hands, indicating that his mind was
perplexed whether he should quit the ring or proceed with the
battle.) Langan received a heavy blow on his left eye; and both went
down in a close.

3.—Both cautious. Spring put down his hands. Langan tried his left
hand twice; but Spring jumped away. “Take care of your plum-pudding,
boy!” said Josh., “he’s coming.” In closing Langan went down.

4.—The slightest offer on the part of Langan to make a hit never
escaped the wary eye of Spring, and the latter got away with the
utmost dexterity and ease; Langan followed his opponent to the
ropes; but Spring stopped a heavy hit. In closing, at the corner of
the ropes, both went down, but Langan uppermost.

5.—This was a short round. The Irish Champion ran in, hit Spring,
and also bored him down. “You have got the great man down, at all
events,” said Josh.

6.—Langan’s left peeper was nearly closed; but, in struggling for
the throw, Spring went down heavily on his head.

7.—Twenty-five minutes had elapsed, and nothing like mischief to
either combatant had yet taken place. A long pause. Langan made two
good stops, when he run in, and by dint of strength got Spring on
the ropes; a severe struggle took place till both down. The
spectators were now getting close to the ropes; and the whips were
hard at work, to keep the space allotted to the boxers.

8.—Langan received a nobber without giving any return. Another
tedious pause. Spring, as lively as an eel, jumped backwards from a
hit. Pause the second. The attitudes of the men were considered
peculiarly fine at this instant. Langan appeared formidable. The
English Champion put in two facers left and right. Langan could not
reach the body of Spring effectually: the left hand of the latter
could not get home. In struggling for the throw Langan was
undermost.

9.—The science and patience displayed by Spring rendered him a truly
troublesome, nay, a very tiresome customer to Langan. The Irish
Champion threw Spring in good style.

10.—Spring waiting at his leisure for Langan to commence hitting.
Langan, however, was not to be gammoned to go in, without something
like a chance offering itself. Spring put in a slight nobber, which
produced an exchange of blows. A very long pause. Langan’s left hand
touched the body of his opponent. This was a tedious round. In
struggling at the ropes, both down, but Spring uppermost.

11.—Without the Irish Champion ran in he could not make a hit to a
certainty. Both down, Langan undermost.

12.—Spring got away from almost every blow aimed at him. In closing,
Spring was thrown heavily.

13.—Langan came to the scratch smiling, and said, “You see I am
always ready.” Spring jumped two yards back from a body blow. An
exchange of hits but no mischief. Spring was again thrown.

14.—In all the preceding rounds, though Langan had received several
nobbers, he was not in the slightest degree reduced as to courage.
On the contrary, he was as gay as a lark. Langan observed to Spring,
“My boy, I can fight for a week.” “Yes,” said Josh., “for a month,
if you get no heavier blows than you have received already. I’m sure
it is not safe to the Champion; his honours are shaking, if not upon
the go.” Langan was thrown.

15.—Langan’s nose was pinked a little, and his left eye swelled up.
In closing, both down.

16.—The length of Spring enabled him to make a hit without any
return. The caution manifested by the English Champion perfectly
satisfied the spectators that he meant to give, but not to take.
Langan, by strength alone, got his opponent down.

17.—After looking at each other for some time, Langan bored in. At
the ropes both were down, Spring undermost.

18.—This was a tedious round. Nothing done. Both down.

19.—“Go to work, Spring,” from several spectators. “All in good
time,” replied Tom. “Never fear,” said Langan, “I am ready for
anything,” An exchange of blows; but the combatants were out of
distance. Both down.

20.—Langan could not reach Spring effectively at the scratch; he
therefore bored in. At the ropes Spring tried the weaving system
till both were upon the ground.

21.—Langan threw Spring out of the ropes; and, with much jocularity
and good nature, observed, laying hold of Spring’s arm, “If I sent
you down, I have a right to pick you up!” (“Bravo! What a strange
fellow!”)

22.—Both down, Spring uppermost.

23.—Langan stopped several blows skilfully; but he was not tall
enough for his opponent. In closing, Spring went down heavily, and
Langan upon him.

24.—Spring put in a body hit. In closing, both down.

25.—Spring was undermost in the fall.

26.—This was a good round, in comparison with several of the
preceding sets-to. Langan again put out his strength, and Spring was
undermost on the ground.

27.—The Irish Champion ran his opponent completely down.

28.—One hour and fourteen minutes had elapsed, and the Irish
Champion still as good as gold. Langan took the lead rather in this
round. He planted a couple of hits, and also threw Spring.

29.—Langan, it was thought, had decidedly the best of this round
also. He hit Spring; and, in closing, a severe struggle took place;
but ultimately Langan threw Spring over the ropes. (“Bravo,
Langan.”)

30.—Of no consequence. Both down.

31.—In this round, Spring was thrown upon his head. (“How well the
Irishman throws,” was the remark.)

32.—In several of the preceding rounds Spring planted some facers;
but they were not heavy enough to take the pluck out of Langan.
(“How bad Spring fights to-day,” was the observation of an old
backer of the English Champion. This was not the fact; Spring
appeared to fight with more caution than usual; the blows of Langan
were to be avoided at all events, if the battle was to be made
perfectly safe to Spring. The truth was, that Langan’s right hand
was dangerous, and a well-directed blow, at a proper distance, on
the mark, or on the nob, might have reduced the science of Spring.)
Langan napped a facer; but Spring was undermost in the fall.

33.—The left hand of the Irish Champion told on his opponent’s body.
Several blows passed, and Langan put in a hit on the side of
Spring’s head. Both down, Langan undermost.

34.—Langan went sharply up to Spring, but he received a nobber and
went down.