Chapter I: Tom Spring (champion)—1814–1824 (3)

35.—The Irish Champion, as fresh as a daisy, appeared at the
scratch. In closing at the ropes Spring endeavoured to fib his
opponent till both went down. The ring was in much confusion, and
the P. C. men had their work to do to keep it clear.

36.—If Spring did not please the multitude by his smashing
qualities, his backers expressed themselves well pleased with the
caution he displayed. Lots of blunt, as to long odds, had been
sported upon the English Champion; but his friends began to be
somewhat apprehensive that the strength and throwing of Langan,
might tire out Spring. Some exchanges, but both down.

37.—Langan hit Spring slightly. On the whole this might be termed a
fighting round. In closing, a desperate struggle took place; Spring
undermost.

38.—This was also an excellent fighting round. Langan laughed at
Spring, saying, “You have done nothing yet!” “All in good time,”
replied Spring, “I shall do it at last.” Langan planted two blows on
the side of Spring’s head; but the Irishman wanted length to do
severe mischief. Both fell, and Cribb, in the bustle, was also on
the ground.

39.—Spring gave his opponent a noser, when a few hits passed till
both went down.

40.—Langan received another nobber. Both down.

41.—This was a tedious round; neither combatant would go to work for
some time. In closing, Spring obtained the fall, and was uppermost.

42.—Langan kept trying his left hand, in order to punish Spring’s
body; but the latter got away so cleverly, that the blows of the
Irish Champion were not effective. Spring undermost in the throw.

43.—A desperate trial of strength on the part of Langan to obtain
the fall, which the Irish Champion ultimately accomplished, Spring
being undermost.

44.—Langan planted two body blows with his left hand. Langan was
thrown; and Spring fell upon his knees.

45.—Spring cautious; Langan full of spirits. (Most of the fighting
men exclaimed, “He is the best Irishman ever seen in the ring. He is
the gamest man alive!” Here Martin observed to a Corinthian, “What a
pity it is that the backers of Langan had no more judgment than to
place him in opposition to Spring.”) Spring had the best of this
round, and Langan was fibbed down at the ropes.

46.—Langan made a hit. An exchange of blows, but the Irish Champion
slipped and went down.

47.—The ring was getting worse every round. In closing, both down.

48.—The men had not room for their exertions. The spectators were
close upon the combatants, and the utmost disorder prevailed. In
closing, Langan threw Spring.

49.—Some severe struggling; the English Champion fibbing Langan till
he went down.

50.—The face of Spring did not exhibit any marks of punishment, but
the left hand of Langan had told now and then upon his body. The
English Champion appeared getting weak from the struggles, and from
several heavy falls. Both down.

51.—The rounds were now short—the crowd pressing upon the men at
every step they took. Spring received a heavy hit on the side of his
head. In closing, both went down.

52.—Close quarters. An exchange of blows; both again down.

53.—Langan hit Spring, and also got him down.

54.—The English Champion had no room now to jump away from his
antagonist. Spring, in closing, fibbed Langan down.

55.—Struggling for the throw, but Langan undermost.

56.—The outer roped ring had been for the last hour in the greatest
disorder. The constables’ long poles were useless; the whips of the
fighting men were of no avail; and the mob was now close up to the
ring. Spring put in the most hits on the nob of his opponent; but
the strength of Langan in getting Spring down surprised every one
present. Both down.

57.—Spring received a fall, and Langan upon him.

58.—So much disorder now prevailed, that it was difficult for those
persons who were placed only at a few yards’ distance from the ring
to see the fight. Langan on the ground, and undermost.

59.—Spring had not room to display his science, but he endeavoured
to hit Langan as the latter rushed in. Spring had the worst of the
throw.

60.—Cribb, at this instant, was so pressed upon by the crowd, that,
in a violent rage, he declared he would give a floorer to any person
who stood in his way. “Here’s a pretty go!” said Tom, “a set of
fellows with books and pencils in their hands, pretending to be
reporters. A parcel of impostors! I don’t care; I’ll hit anybody.”
One of the umpires, a noble lord, was hit with a shillelah by a
rough Patlander, who was attempting to get a little space for
Langan, and when informed that he was behaving rude to a nobleman,
“Devil may care,” says Pat; “all I want is fair play for Jack
Langan. There’s no difference here: lords are no better than
commoners. Faith! I can’t distinguish them one from another, at all,
at all!” Langan ran in and gave Spring a blow on the head: but, in
struggling for the throw, the Irish Champion was undermost.

61.—When time was called, “Here we are,” said Langan. Spring had
only time to make a hit, when Langan bored in; but Spring again had
the best of the throw, Langan being undermost.

62.—Nothing. Langan bored Spring down.

63.—Spring had decidedly the best of this round. He made several
hits; and Langan received an ugly throw.

64.—“Go to work, Erin-go-bragh! Spring has no hits left in him. You
must win it,” said Josh. Langan followed this advice, and some sharp
work was the result. Spring could not retreat. Fighting till both
down.

65.—(“Go in, Jack,” said Josh., “as you did the last time, and you
will soon spoil his fine science.” Langan rushed in, but Spring
avoided his blow. In closing, the struggle to obtain the throw was
violent in the extreme, but Langan got it; Spring came down on his
back, and Langan on him, and the breath of the Champion was nearly
shaken out of his body. Spring was picked up by Cribb in a weak
state, and looked extremely pale. Here two or three persons hallooed
out six to four on Langan, but the confusion was so great that no
bets could be made.)

66.—In this round the English Champion put in a tremendous nobber,
and also fibbed Langan down. (“That’s a settler,” said a bystander.
“Indeed it is not,” replied a Paddy, “Spring will not settle his
account this time.” (Laughing.) “Where’s Jack Randall?” says Josh.;
“here’s a countryman for you! Spring’s tired of it. He can’t hit a
dent in a pound of butter.” “Well done, Josh.,” said Spring,
smiling, “chaff away. I’ll give you all you can do, except winning.”
“We can’t lose it,” replied the John Bull fighter.)

67.—Spring was still cautious: he would not give a chance away. Both
down.

68.—Langan’s left hand told on Spring’s body; but the Irish Champion
received a nobber for it. Langan seemed determined to have Spring
down, at all events. The struggle for the throw was severely
contested; Langan got Spring undermost.

69.—Short; a hit or two passed, when both were down.

70.—Langan’s face looked the worse for the battle, but his eye
retained all its fire and animation; the other peeper had been
nearly darkened for an hour and a half. “I am sure,” said Josh.,
“that Langan has made a contract with Spring for seven years; this
is a fine specimen of one of his fighting days.” Both men were
getting weak, but Langan always got up when time was called, saying,
“I am ready!” In the throw, Langan was undermost.

71.—The ring was now in confusion; yet some of the sharpest rounds
were fought. Spring received another fall, and was undermost.

72.—The general opinion in the twenty-four foot ring (which was
nothing else but a crowd), appeared to be, that Spring would win;
nevertheless the countenances of Spring’s backers indicated it was
not quite safe. Spring had no room to get away. Colonel Berkeley,
the referee, said, “I am so disgusted with the treatment I have
experienced, that I will give up the watch. Here is no ring. It is
impossible to stand still a second, without being assailed with a
cut from a whip, or a blow from a stick, and no good done either.”
In no fight whatever was there such a scene of confusion in the
space allotted for the men to fight. In closing, both down. During
the time Spring was on Painter’s knee, Sampson, Oliver and Israel
Belasco, were giving advice. “Hallo!” said Josh., “do you call this
fair play? How many seconds is Spring to have?” and, snatching a
whip out of a bystander’s hand, endeavoured to whip out the ring,
followed by Oliver. “Only give us a chance,” cried Josh., “and we
can’t lose it.” Nothing foul appeared to be attempted on the part of
Spring or on the side of Langan. The constables were mixed in the
mob, struggling for breath; the fighting men hoarse with calling
out, “Clear the ring,” and dead beat from the exertions they had
made. Nothing less than a company of Horse Guards could have made
out a ring at this period, so closely jammed were the spectators.

73.—The courage, confidence, and good spirits displayed by Langan,
excited the admiration of every beholder. He was too short in the
arm for Spring: he could not reach his head without rushing in to
mill. Langan left his second’s knee rather weak; in closing, he was
fibbed severely by Spring, who was well assured he had not a minute
to lose. The English Champion was cool, felt his situation, and his
knowledge and experience in the prize ring gave him the advantage
when the nicety of the thing was required.

74.—On Langan placing himself in attitude, “Go and fight,” said
Cribb to Spring; when the Champion went to work without delay, and
Langan received a heavy blow in the middle of his head, and went
down. (“Twenty to one,” said a swell, “he’ll not come again.”)

75.—The Irish Champion appeared the worse for the last round, and,
on his appearing at the scratch, Spring commenced the attack, when
Langan returned with great spirit; but Spring had decidedly the
best, and Langan was fibbed down, his face covered with claret.
(“Take the brave fellow away.” “I will not be taken away—who dare
say so?” exclaimed Langan.)

76.—Spring was now determined to lose no time, and again went to
work; but Langan showed fight, and struggled to obtain the throw:
both down. (“Take him away!” Langan’s head rested on his second’s
shoulder till time was called. The Springites roared out—“It’s as
right as the day. Ten pounds to a crown the battle is over in five
minutes.”)

77th and last.—Langan came up quite groggy, but full of pluck.
Spring now administered heavy punishment with both hands and Langan
fell quite exhausted. Reynolds had great difficulty in getting him
from the ground; he was in a state of stupor, and his eye closed.
Several gentlemen said, “Do not let the brave fellow fight any more;
Reynolds, take him away; it is impossible he can meet Spring any
more.” When time was called, Langan was insensible—and Josh. Hudson
gave in for him. Half a minute after, Langan opened his eyes, still
sitting on the knee of his second. When he was told that the fight
was over, he said, “His second had no right to give in for him. He
could fight forty more rounds.” “Don’t leave the ring, Spring,”
several persons cried out. Cribb told Langan, “The battle was over;”
and Painter observed, “Don’t let so good a man be killed; he does
not know what he is talking about!” The umpire was asked for his
decision, and he said, “Langan did not come when time was called;
therefore he had lost the battle, according to the rules of
pugilism.” Upon this answer, and decision of the umpire, Spring left
the ring, amidst the shouts of the populace, Langan roaring out, “I
am not beaten—clear out the ring—I can fight for four hours.” In the
course of a few minutes, he left the ring, and, as he approached the
Grand Stand, he was received with applause, and jumped over some
ropes in his way with agility. The battle lasted two hours and
twenty-nine minutes.

REMARKS.[3]—In consequence of the breaking in of the ring, the
struggles, and repeated falls of the men, it is impossible for any
reporter to be strictly accurate as to the precise rounds fought.
The battle would have terminated much sooner could Spring have used
his left hand effectively, but after the eighth round he could only
use it defensively, having injured his knuckles by bringing them in
violent contact with Langan’s nut. He has, however, proved himself
one of the safest boxers over known, and as Dusty Bob observes,
“never gives a chance avay. Another circumstance that retarded the
final issue was the destruction of the inner ring; the combatants
were so closely surrounded that they had no room for action, which
was greatly to the disadvantage of Spring, whose fine science was
set at nought in such close quarters. Langan has proved himself a
perfect glutton, and the best big Irishman that ever appeared in the
P.R. He has hitherto been unknown to the London Ring, and the wonder
is, how such a novice could make so long a stand against the best
man in it, and his superior in weight by nearly half a stone.” The
remarks conclude with some observations upon the persons who had
erected stands for the spectators, which, although the charges were
exorbitant, were so insecure as to cause serious injuries to many of
their customers. Not less than twenty persons were seriously
injured, many having broken bones, while an equal number were more
or less bruised. After deducting sufficient to pay the ring-keepers,
out of the money collected for admission to the ring, there remained
£200, which was divided equally between Spring and Langan. At the
conclusion of the fight, Cribb said to Langan, “You are a brave man
indeed.” “I never saw a better,” replied Painter. Even betting
occurred several times in the fight for small sums; and six to four
was offered on Langan in light bets, after the fight had lasted two
hours.

A voluminous paper war followed this fight, stimulated by “the historian,” who at this period edited a weekly, called _Pierce Egan’s Life in London_. The “milling correspondence,” as it was termed, became as verbose and inconsequential as diplomatic circular notes or the “protocols” on the Schleswig-Holstein question. Langan, Spring, Tom Reynolds, Josh. Hudson, and Cribb, by their amanuenses, or self-appointed secretaries, figured in print in what they would have called in their vernacular, the “’fending and proving” line; but the great gun was Tom Reynolds, primed and charged by Pierce himself. The very reading of his letters, and weary reading they are, reminds us of the Bastard Falconbridge’s description of the magniloquent citizen of Angiers:—

“He speaks plain cannon, fire, and smoke, and bounce;
He gives the bastinado with his tongue;
Our ears are cudgelled; not a word of his
But buffets better than a fist of France.
Zounds! I was never so bethump’d with words
Since I first called my brother’s father ‘dad.’”

Reynolds proved too much in these letters (several of which serve to “pad” out the bulk of “Boxiana”) by charging conduct upon men whose whole life gave the lie to such imputations.

On the 19th of February, 1824, Langan had a bumper benefit at the Tennis Court, and, at its close, thus addressed the audience:—“Gentlemen, I thank you for the honour you have conferred upon me, and I beg to assure you, on the honour of an Irishman (placing his hand on his breast), if I have the good fortune again to enter the ring, that no effort shall be wanting on my part to make it a more pleasant and agreeable ‘mill’ than the last in which I was engaged. Gentlemen, I am ready to fight any man who calls himself Champion of England, for any sum, from three hundred to a thousand, upon a boarded stage, like this, in the same way as Cribb fought Molineaux.”

This challenge produced the following epistle from Spring to the Editor of _Pierce Egan’s Life in London_:—

“SIR,

“Your paper, and others of the public journals, have of late teemed
with idle correspondence on the subject of my fight with Langan. Of
Langan I have nothing to say, but that I consider him a brave fellow
in the ring, and a good fellow out of it; but in order to put an end
to all further chaffing, and to bring our matters to a clear
understanding, I have only this to observe: Langan, at his own
benefit, publicly stated that “he was ready to fight any man who
called himself Champion of England, on a stage, for from £300 to
£1,000.” Now, I have been pronounced the character he describes, and
I am ready to fight Langan, or any other man, for £500, in a roped
ring on the turf, or for £1,000 in any way that himself or his
friends may think proper to suggest—on an iron pavement if they
choose. This is my final answer to all challenges; and I shall be at
the Fives’ Court to-morrow, at Turner’s benefit, and come to the
scratch if called.

“I am, sir, yours most respectfully,
“THOMAS W. SPRING.

“_February 24, 1824._”

This was followed by a letter (bearing internal marks of proceeding from the pen of Tom Reynolds) magniloquently entitled—

“THE IRISH CHAMPION’S DECLARATION TO THE SPORTING WORLD.

“GENTLEMEN,

“Mr. Spring, in his letter, speaks of his wish to avoid ‘chaffing,
and bring matters to a right understanding’ between him and me. To
show you, therefore, the chaffing is not on my side, and that I am
really anxious to have matters clearly understood, I beg leave to
submit the following facts to your judgment:—

“When I challenged him in Manchester, for £100 a-side, he pretended
to treat my offer with contempt (though he had never, but in one
instance, fought for more), and named £500 as the least stake, a sum
three times greater than any for which he had contended. But though
he was afterwards shamed into agreeing for £300 a-side, yet he
calculated on my inability to raise so much; and, to prevent my
doing so, he and his friends, besides throwing other obstacles in my
way, contrived to induce the gentleman who agreed to put down the
whole sum for me to withdraw his patronage, so that it was with the
utmost difficulty I raised the battle-money.

“As to the battle, it is needless to repeat that I have good reasons
to complain of the treatment I experienced. Every unprejudiced
witness will bear me out in this, and my friends are so satisfied
with my conduct, that they are ready to back me against Spring for
£500, on a stage, which they think the only way of guarding against
a repetition of unfair treatment. But when Spring finds me thus
supported, he raises his demand to £1,000, on the ground that I
challenged him to fight for any sum from £300 to £1,000. My words
were, that I would fight him for from £300 to £500, or for £1,000,
if I were backed, and I do not deny them; for if I had £100,000 I
would confidently stake it. But £500 is a sum between £300 and
£1,000; and if I could get backed for £1,000, I should rejoice at
it, as it would at once do away with this excuse of Spring. I think,
however, that it will not tell much for his credit, if he continues
to reject the £500, which I can command, and £50 of which I am ready
to lay down at Belcher’s, to make the match, any time he thinks
proper. I believe nine out of ten in the sporting world will agree
that Spring cannot honourably refuse this proposal, were it only to
meet the complaint of foul play, which I am justified in making with
regard to the former battle.

“But he also pledged himself, when he received the championship, to
imitate the donor’s conduct. Then why not redeem his pledge, or
resign the gift?

“He says that he does not wish to enter the ring again. This is mere
shuffling. He ought not to hold a situation for which he has no
taste: he cannot, in justice, have the honour without the danger. If
he will not fight, then let him resign the championship to one that
will—to a man who will not want to make a sinecure of the title, and
will always be ready to fight for a stake of £500.

“Permit me again to repeat that I am ready to make a match to fight
Spring for £500 a-side, within a hundred miles of London, on a
stage[4] similar to the one on which Cribb and Molineaux fought.
Sparring exhibitions I cannot attend till I set-to for my friend
Reynolds, on the 17th of March.

“I am, gentlemen, your very obedient servant,
“JOHN LANGAN.

“_Castle Tavern, Holborn, February 26._”

This letter produced its desired effect, for next week Spring thus addressed the several sporting editors:—

“SIR,

“I can bear the bullying of this Langan no longer, but will, by the
consent of my friends, meet him upon the terms demanded in his last
letter. I will be at Cribb’s on Tuesday evening next, at eight
o’clock, to stake £100, and settle the business at once.

“I am, sir, yours, etc.,
“T. W. SPRING.

“_84, High Street, Marylebone._”

Langan accepted Spring’s invitation, and honest Tom Cribb’s crib, on Tuesday, February 24, 1824, at a very early period of the evening was crowded, not a seat to be had for begging or praying, for love or money. The house was not one-third big enough, and hundreds of persons went away angry and disappointed. Tom Belcher first made his appearance, followed by Langan, in a military cloak; the rear was brought up by the president of the Daffy Club. The street door was immediately closed, to prevent an improper rush, and a sentinel was placed at the door of the stairs. The Irish Champion seated himself in the first floor, and drank Spring’s health in a glass of wine, the company, in return, drinking the health of Langan. Spring, on being informed Langan had arrived, sent word to the Irish Champion that he was ready. Cribb, who was very lame, hobbled up stairs to meet his old opponent, and to “argufy the topic” in a parliamentary style, across the table. Belcher then produced a draft of the articles which, he said, Langan was prepared to sign. These articles were as follows:—

“_Memorandum, of an Agreement entered into between Thomas Winter
Spring and John Langan at Thomas Cribb’s, Panton Street, on the 2nd
of March, 1824._

“It is hereby agreed between Thomas Winter Spring and John Langan to
fight, on a twenty-four feet stage, on Tuesday, the 8th of June,
1824, for £500 a-side, to be a fair stand-up fight, half-minute
time; umpires to be chosen by each party, and a referee to be chosen
on the ground by the umpires. The fight to take place within one
hundred miles of London, and the place to be named by Mr. Jackson.
The men to be in the ring between twelve and one o’clock, unless
prevented by magisterial interference. Fifty pounds of the money are
now deposited in the hands of the stakeholder, Mr. ——; £50 more to
be deposited, on the 17th of March, at Mr. John Randall’s,
Hole-in-the-Wall, Chancery Lane; £200 to be deposited at Mr. Thomas
Cribb’s, on the 1st of May; and the remainder of the £500 to be made
good at Mr. Thomas Belcher’s, at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, on the
1st of June; and in case of failure on either side, the money
deposited to be forfeited.

“The stage to be boarded with deal planks, at least three inches
thick, and to be six feet from the ground, without turf. The
bottle-holders and seconds to retire to the corners of the ring when
the men shall have set-to, and not to approach the combatants till
one or both of them shall be down.

“The expenses of the stage to be equally borne by each of the men.”

To these conditions Spring took exceptions; first, expressing his desire that the present deposit should be £100 instead of £50; this objection, after a few remarks, he waived. He then objected to the day named for the fight to take place, proposing the 25th of May instead of the 8th of June; and, lastly, he insisted that the second £50 should be deposited on the 13th of March, instead of the 17th, upon the ground that the 17th had been appointed for Reynold’s benefit, and he did not wish to lend himself to this additional attraction to the public. A good deal of discussion followed, but, finally, there was mutual concession, Spring agreeing to fight on the 8th of June, and Langan agreeing to make his second deposit on the 13th instead of the 17th of March. All difficulties thus cleared away, there were one or two verbal alterations made in the articles; and a paragraph was added, by which it was agreed, “that when the whole of the money was made good, it should be deposited in the hands of Mr. Jackson.”

Spring, in alluding to the expense of erecting the stage, said he thought it but fair, as this was Langan’s fancy, that he should bear the whole expense. To which Langan replied, “See, now, Tom; say nothing about that, for if I win, and I think I will, I’ll bear the whole expense of the stage myself. (Loud cheers.) But that’s neither here nor there; I hope the best man will win; and though we are going to fight, it’s myself that would go a hundred miles to serve you, for I have no antipathy or ill-blood towards you whatever.”

The president of the Daffy Club was then appointed stakeholder. The articles having been signed and witnessed, and everything relative to the pugilistic tourney having been settled comfortably on both sides, Langan and his friends made their bows, and returned to finish the evening at Belcher’s (the Castle).

Spring and Langan, according to the articles, met on Saturday evening, the 13th of March, at Randall’s, and made £100 a-side good towards the completion of the stakes of 1,000 sovereigns. They met like good fellows, brave men, and personal friends. In the course of the evening Langan proposed the health of Spring. He also rebuked several of his partisans, who frequently shouted out, “Well done, Langan!” “Bravo, Jack!” etc. “I hate these sort of remarks,” said the Irish Champion; “they are calculated to make ill-blood and provoke animosity, which it is my most sincere wish to prevent, if possible. All I want is, that we may meet as friends, and have a comfortable, pleasant mill on the 8th of June!” Sixty to forty was offered by a gentleman from Yorkshire upon Spring. “I will bet £70 to £40,” said the latter. “I’ll take it, Tom,” replied Langan; and before they separated, Spring betted with Langan £580 to £168, that he should win the battle. The evening was spent with the utmost good humour by all parties.

Spring’s benefit at the Fives Court on Tuesday, June 1, 1824, not only produced a bumper, but the body of the Court was crowded, the gallery overloaded even to danger; the little room, “the swells’ retreat,” once secure from the vulgar eye and intrusion of commoners, was now full of all sorts, and Earls, Right Honourables, Honourables, and M.P.’s, were squeezed together, without complaint, quite satisfied with obtaining only now and then a glimpse of the stage. In fact, numbers of persons could not be admitted, and the doors were closed to prevent accidents from the pressure of the multitude. Spring addressed the populace in the street from one of the windows in the Fives Court.

In the evening a dinner was held at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, at which fifty-two gentlemen were present. The chair was taken by Mr. Rayner (well known for his excellent performances of Tyke, Giles, Fixture, etc.), and the deputy-chair ably filled by the President of the Daffy Club. When “time” was called, Spring, supported by his backer and Cribb, appeared and posted the money. Loud approbation was expressed when it was announced that £1,000 were deposited in the hands of the stakeholder. Langan was present for a short time. The dinner was excellent, and the wines pronounced of the first quality. Four to one was betted on Spring!

The second great match was fixed for Tuesday, June 8, 1824, and Warwick, in the first instance, was the place decided upon, but Chichester was the “latest intelligence.” Some hundreds were “thrown out” by the change. Nevertheless, the capital of Sussex was overflowing with company so soon as it was known to be the right scent. Spring arrived at the Swan Hotel in the course of Monday, in company with his backer, Mr. Sant; they were received with loud cheers. Colonel O’Neil, Langan, Tom Belcher, and company, arrived nearly at the same time at the Dolphin Hotel, and were equally well received.

The cause of the change was, Mr. Hewlings, of the Swan Inn, Chichester, having undertaken to give the men £200, and having intimated that there would be no interruption. The spot chosen for the trial of strength was admirably adapted for the purpose; it was a field about three miles from the city, one side of which was bordered by the Canal, and it was only approachable by means of a drawbridge, over which all must necessarily pass to the ring side, and at which a toll was imposed on all comers. The bridge was called Birdham Bridge. The moment the farmers in the neighbourhood were informed of the gratification which awaited them, they volunteered their wagons to form the outer ring, an offer which was at once accepted by Mr. Hewlings, who appears to have taken the whole management on himself, and in the course of Monday, the day prior to the fight, no less than fifty-three large wagons were arranged in a circle round the spot on which, in the course of the day, the stage was erected. This stage was six feet from the ground, and was planked with three-inch deal. Round it were fixed strong posts, to which three rows of stout rails were fastened; these and the posts were rounded, so as to diminish as much as possible any injury to the combatants. During Monday afternoon Chichester presented an extraordinary appearance, and was as crowded as one is accustomed to see it during the Goodwood meeting, and all day the windows were filled with anxious spectators on the look-out for a peep at the combatants.

In London, as soon as it was generally known that Chichester was the centre of attraction, there was a simultaneous move to secure places in the coaches going either to that city, or to Brighton or Portsmouth. Many persons, unable to obtain places, and equally unable to afford posters, had to betake themselves to their ten toes, so determined were they not to miss the treat. As the evening advanced, the curiosity of the Chichester folks was more or less gratified by the arrival of Cribb, Oliver, Jack Martin, Dick Curtis, Ben Burn, Randall, Painter, Jack Scroggins, and a long list of pugilists of note. Post-chaises and carriages and four poured rapidly into the town: every inn was soon crowded to an overflow, and soon every corner was filled. Spring and his friends arrived at the Swan Inn about half past seven o’clock, and were received with loud cheers. He was in excellent health and spirits, and seemed delighted at his cordial reception. Langan was not long after him, and took up his quarters at the Dolphin. He, like Spring, was warmly cheered. He was in high spirits, laughed heartily, and appeared to be in excellent condition. Some doubts having been expressed by the friends of Langan as to the good faith of Mr. Hewlings, who had promised the men £200 to fight near Chichester, that gentleman at once posted half the money in responsible hands, to be paid to the loser, and it was agreed that the winner should receive his £100 as soon as the contest was over. In the course of the evening a little money was invested at three to one on Spring.

On the morning of fighting the bustle was redoubled in Chichester, and the excitement appeared to extend to Bognor, Portsmouth, and other places in the neighbourhood. Both men rose in excellent spirits, and thoroughly up to the mark. Spring’s weight was about thirteen stone four pounds, while Langan was at least a stone under that amount, and by many it was considered he had drawn it too fine. About eleven o’clock a move commenced towards the ground, and on the arrival of the public at the before-named bridge, it was found that some of the milling gentry had planted themselves at the entrance, where they extorted sums varying from 2_s._ 6_d._ to 5_s._ from every one who passed, thus forestalling Mr. Hewlings, who had hired the field and erected the stage at his own expense, depending on the toll at the bridge for his reimbursement. Of course much indignation was excited by this conduct, but on the arrival of Mr. Jackson everything was set right, and a settlement made with Mr. Hewlings.

At length, everything being arranged, Mr. Jackson, who acted as Commander-in-Chief, directed that the men should be brought forward.

A few minutes before one o’clock, Spring, arm-in-arm with his backer and a baronet, made his way through the crowd towards the stage, and was received with loud huzzas, Cribb and Painter close behind him. Spring threw up his hat, which alighted upon the stage, then ascended the ladder and jumped over the rails.

While Spring was taking off his boots, Cribb and Ned Painter put on knee-caps, made of chamois leather and stuffed with wool. It having been circulated in Ireland that Painter used his knee against Langan when he was on the ground, in the fight at Worcester, a sergeant-major in a marching regiment, quartered at Norwich, and occasionally visiting the house of Painter, observed, “By J——s, Mr. Painter, I’ll take care you do not hurt Langan this time with your knees: I’ll have a couple of knee-caps made for you both, and if you mean to give Jack fair play, I insist that you wear them during the battle.” The sergeant had them made according to his own order, and as Painter and Cribb always were lovers of fair play, both these pugilists, with the utmost good humour, placed the caps, tied with a narrow blue ribbon, round their knees.

Langan shortly followed, under the patronage of Colonel O’Neil. Belcher, Harmer, and O’Neil (not “Ned,” of Streatham), his bottle-holder, were in attendance. The Irish champion ascended the stage, and in a modest manner dropped his hat within the rails. He was prepared for action; but the Champion not being ready, he walked up and down the boards with the utmost composure.

A black silk handkerchief was placed loosely round Langan’s neck, which, we understand, was tied by the delicate hands of the lady of a gallant Irish Colonel O’B——, before he left the inn, at which the lady stopped in her journey to the Isle of Wight. Mrs. O’B—— offered him a green handkerchief, as a token of his country; but Langan politely refused, saying, “I am not of importance enough to make it a national affair: I do not wish it, indeed, madam; it is merely to decide which is the best man; therefore, if you please, I prefer a black one, having fought under that colour.” Mrs. O’B——, on tying it round his neck, romantically exclaimed, “You are Irish: colour is immaterial to a brave man: glory is your only object. Go, then, and conquer!” Langan returned thanks very politely for the attention paid to him, and the good wishes of the lady. Everything being ready, the colours, dark blue with bird’s eye for Spring, black for Langan, were tied to the stage, and Mr. Jackson arranged the spectators round the ring in an orderly and comfortable manner. Betting two to one, and five to two, at the beginning of

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Spring never looked so big, nor so well, in any of his
previous contests; he appeared perfectly at his ease: coolness sat
upon his brow, and his deportment altogether was a fine
personification of confidence; indeed, it was observed by a noble
lord, “There is something about the person of the Champion, if not
truly noble, yet manly and elegant.” Langan also looked well; his
face exhibited a tinge of the sun, and his frame was robust and
hardy; his loins appeared smaller than in his former contest. His
countenance was as pleasant as his opponent’s, and his eyes sparkled
with fire and animation. Previous to setting-to, Langan went up to
Spring, opening his drawers, and observed, “See, Tom, I have no belt
about me,” the Champion immediately followed his example, and said
(also opening his drawers), “Nor I neither, Jack!” This circumstance
elicited great applause from all parts of the ring. “Well done,
Langan; bravo, Spring!” Spring now shook his brave opponent by the
hand. Cribb laid hold of Tom Belcher’s fist, and Ned Painter shook
the bunch of fives of big Paddy O’Neil (shortly afterwards beaten by
“my nevvy,” Jem Burn.[5]) The men placed themselves in attitude. The
glorious moment had arrived, and the seconds, in compliance with the
articles, retired to the corners of the stage. This time Langan
stood up within the reach of his adversary, and it was pleasing to
witness the activity displayed by the combatants moving over the
stage to obtain the first hit. A stand still, steadfastly looking at
the eyes of each other; at length Langan made an offer, which Spring
stopped well. The Champion made a hit, which told slightly on
Langan’s nob; the latter fought his way into a close, in which
Spring endeavoured to fib his antagonist. Here the struggle began
for the throw—it was desperate; the art of wrestling was not
resorted to by either of the boxers, and main strength was the
trial. Langan broke from the arms of Spring, and a stand still was
the result. Langan observed, “First blood, Tom;” which slightly
appeared at the corner of Spring’s mouth. The Irish Champion made a
good stop, but was blowing a little. Spring planted another facer,
when Langan fought his way into a close: a desperate struggle
ensued: fibbing was again attempted, when Langan went down on his
knees. Spring patted the Irish Champion on the back with the utmost
good humour, as much as to say, “You are a brave fellow,” (A
thundering report of approbation, and “Well done, Spring!”) Four
minutes and a few seconds. The referee, on being asked who drew the
first blood, replied, “He did not see any on Spring; but he saw a
little on the left cheek of Langan, just under his eye.”

2.—Langan made play; but Spring, with the nimbleness of a harlequin
showed the utility of a quick step. The Irish Champion made a rush,
when they were again entangled for a short time, until Langan broke
away. A pause: breath wanted: and consideration necessary. Langan
gave Spring a facer with his right hand, and tried to repeat the
dose; another quick movement prevented it, Spring smiling. A little
bit of in-fighting: a desperate struggle for the throw: downright
strength, when Spring went down, Langan falling heavily upon him.
(“Bravo, Langan!”)

3.—The attitudes of the combatants were interesting, and both
extremely cautious. Spring got away from one intended for his nob.
The science displayed on both sides was so excellent in stopping,
that in the ecstasy of the moment the Commander-in-Chief[6] loudly
exclaimed, “Beautiful.” Another skilful stop by Spring; and one by
Langan, “Well done: good on both sides,” observed Mr. Jackson.
Langan planted a hit. A pause. (“Fight, Langan,” from Belcher, “you
have all the best of it.”) Spring drove Langan to the corner, but
the hero of the black fogle got out of danger in style. He made also
an excellent stop while on the retreat: Langan made himself up to do
mischief, and Spring received loud applause for stopping a
tremendous hit. The Champion also bobbed his nob aside, in the Dutch
Sam style, from what might have been a floorer. The Champion again
broke ground, and bobbed cleverly away from the coming blow. Spring
now took the lead famously. He planted a facer without any return;
repeated the dose, and administered a third pill. Langan again got
out of the corner, by fighting up like a trump. A short stand still.
Heavy counter hits. A pause: Spring made another facer; a stand
still. The Champion stopped well, and also drove Langan into the
corner, but the hero of the black wipe would not be detained; he
fought his way out manfully, and, in closing, though the struggle
was terrible, Spring obtained the throw. (Loud applause.) This round
occupied nearly seven minutes. The left hand of Spring was already
going, if not gone.

4.—The “good bit of stuff from ould Ireland” endeavoured to take the
lead, and had the best of this round; he fought first. He planted
one or two hits, and not light ones either, and would have kept it
up, but Spring said “it wouldn’t do,” and stopped him. In fact, this
was a well-contested round on both sides; and Langan, after a
terrible try for it, got Spring down. (Applause.)

5.—The left ear of Langan was much swelled; he was also piping. The
superior science of String enabled him to get away from a number of
heavy blows. Langan followed his opponent, trying to do something.
Two counter-hits, which reminded both the men they were milling; the
claret ran from Spring’s nose. Spring planted a facer; and after a
determined struggle on both sides, as Langan was going down, the
Champion cleverly caught him a hard blow on the nose. (“That’s the
way, Spring; you’ll soon win it.”)

6.—A stand-still for a short time—Spring always taking his time to
do his work. Counter-hits that were a little too much for the
combatants. Langan began to shift: indeed, Spring had drawn his
claret liberally. Both down, Spring uppermost.

7.—This was a bustling round. Langan stopped well. Counter-hits, and
good ones. The stopping on both sides was excellent, and obtained
loud applause, “Be ready, my boy,” said Belcher, “fight first; he
can’t hurt you!”—“Walker,” replied Tom Cribb; “gammon him to that if
you can.” Langan followed the advice of his able second, put a
tremendous hit under Spring’s left ogle, and tried to repeat it, but
it was “no go.” A pause. Spring planted a facer; Langan got away
from another intended for him. The left hand of Spring told well on
his opponent’s body: he also planted three facers without any
return. Counter-hits, of no consequence to any but the receivers;
the hero of the black fogle touched Spring’s body with his left
hand. A stand still. “Keep up your head, Langan.” Spring followed
his opponent, administering pepper, and Langan’s face clareted.
Langan endeavoured to put in a heavy blow, but the harlequin step of
Spring prevented it. Langan napped two or three hits in succession;
in fact, he was quite groggy; nevertheless he fought like a man, was
mischievous, and gave Spring a nobber. In closing, Spring could not
throw him, when they separated; in closing again, after another
struggle, Langan received a topper as he was staggering and going
down.—(Great applause. It won’t last long—five to two, and three to
one, Spring will win it in a few rounds the backers of the Champion
were smiling, and said, “It is all right.”)

8.—Belcher got his man up very heavily, but on his being placed at
the scratch, he showed fight and got away from a hit. However,
Spring had decidedly the best of the round, and Langan was thrown.
Twenty-six minutes.

9.—This was also a short round, but against the Irish Champion.
Spring planted two or three nobbers, and also got his opponent down.

10.—It was evident to every one that Langan up to this time had had
the worst of it, and the general opinion was, that he must lose the
battle. Spring planted two successive blows, without any return.
Langan was getting better, and made an exchange of blows with some
effect. Belcher again cried out, “Fight, Jack.” In struggling for
the throw, Paddy O’Neil sung out, “Give him a back fall, Jack, but
don’t hurt him;” and, sure enough, Mr. Spring did receive a back
fall.

11.—Langan was now fast recovering his second wind and went to work.
An exchange of blows; a pause. Langan planted a slight body hit with
his left hand. Counter-hits. Langan down, Spring on him.

12.—In the struggle for the throw, Spring was undermost. (“Bravo,
Langan!”) The head of the Champion had an ugly knock against the
lower rail of the stage.

13.—Spring proved himself a most difficult boxer to get at; however,
Langan got in a body blow. In closing, both down, Spring uppermost.

14.—Spring getting weak, Langan improving: so said the most
experienced judge of boxing belonging to the P. C. Indeed, it is
accounted for without difficulty; as a superior fighter Spring ought
not to have wrestled so much with his opponent. The strongest man in
the world must have felt weakness had he been engaged in such
violent pulling, hauling, grappling, and catching hold of each
other’s hands. This round was little more than a struggle for the
throw; Langan undermost.

15.—It was now known to all the ring that the left hand of Spring
was gone; indeed; it was swelled and puffed like a blister. Langan
planted a left-handed blow, but Spring stopped his right. In
closing, the struggle was great, and, as Langan was going down,
Spring hit his nob. (“Foul, foul!” It was unintentional on the part
of Spring; he was in the act of hitting, and therefore, it could not
be decided wrong.)[7]

16.—Under all circumstances, Langan was a troublesome customer. The
remarks made by some persons were, that he did not fight well,
though they were compelled to allow that he was an extraordinary
game man. The counter-hits in this round were again well placed; but
it was regretted, by several sporting men, to see such numerous
struggles. Yet, to their credit be it spoken, neither of the men
wished to go down unhandsomely, which accounts for so much
wrestling. Both went down together; Langan patted the back of Spring
with the utmost good humour, both smiling.

17.—The fine science of Spring was again exhibited in skilfully
stopping his opponent; but, in closing, he received a dangerous
cross-buttock, which shook him terribly, and his legs rebounded from
the ground. (A cheering burst of applause for Langan.)

18.—The manner with which Langan had got round did not look very
promising for the backers of Spring. The Irish Champion went
resolutely in, and planted two hits. In closing, Spring tried the
fibbing system, when Langan broke away. Both combatants in turn
retreated from the blows of each other. Both down.

19.—The Champion showed weakness: it would have been singular if he
had not. He bobbed his head aside from a tremendous right-handed
blow of Langan’s, which might have settled the account in favour of
the hero of the black fogle; however, he closed the round by
throwing Langan cleverly.

20.—Spring stopped several blows, and the Irish Champion was thrown
violently on his head; Spring also fell heavily on him. Forty-five
minutes had elapsed. (“That fall is a settler: he can’t fight above
another round or two.”)

21.—Spring nobbed his opponent. A severe struggle took place at the
corner of the stage, and some fears were expressed that the men
might fall through the rails upon the ground. Langan received
another heavy fall.

22.—Langan, according to the advice of Belcher, fought first, but
his efforts were stopped, and he again went down, Spring uppermost.
During the time the Champion was sitting on the knee of his second,
he nodded, and gave a smile to his friends, intimating “It was all
right.”

23.—This was a short round, and Spring fibbed Langan down severely,
to all appearance, yet, on being picked up and placed on his
second’s knee, when asked to have some brandy and water by Belcher,
who told Harmer, who was below the stage, to hand it up, Langan
said, “Stop a bit, Harry; only keep it cool.” The president of the
Daffy Club, who was standing close by at the time, observed, “What a
strange fellow!”

24.—After three heavy falls in succession, and severe fibbing,
Langan came to the scratch as if nothing serious had happened; he
contrived to put in a body blow, but was thrown.

25.—Spring, although he had got the lead by his superior science and
length, was determined not to give a chance away, and was as
cautious as when he first commenced the battle. He retreated from
Langan’s blows, planted some returns with success, and ultimately
Langan was down.

26.—Langan made play, but Spring was too wary. Both down, Spring
uppermost.

27.—The Champion was evidently distressed, and his right hand also
getting bad. Some exchanges took place; but, in a trifling struggle
at the corner of the stage, it appeared to Spring’s umpire that
Langan went down without a blow, when he observed to Belcher, “Tell
your man not to go down without a blow, or I shall notice it.” “I
assure you, gentlemen,” replied Tom, “blows had passed in the round,
and it could not be termed going down without a blow, according to
the rules of fighting.” Blows certainly had passed between the
combatants.

28.—Langan walked up to the umpire, and said, “Sir, I did not go
down.” Time had been called, when Cribb sung out, “Why don’t you
come to the scratch? what manœuvres are you about, Mr. Belcher?” “I
want nothing but fair play,” replied Tom; “lick us fairly, and I
shall be satisfied.” Langan again made play, but was thrown.

29.—Spring planted a heavy facer. (“That’s a little one for us, I
believe,” said Cribb; “our hands are gone, are they?” Laughter.)
Langan was thrown heavily.

30.—It was quite clear that Langan could not get the lead, yet he
was not to be viewed with indifference; he was still dangerous, as a
throw might win the battle. Both down, Spring undermost.

31.—This round, more particularly at this stage of the fight,
exalted the character of Langan as one of the gamest of men. Langan
planted a body blow, but napped three facers in succession. A pause.
Langan received a heavy body blow, seemed exhausted, and fell on his
latter end.

32.—This round it was thought would have proved the quietus of
Langan. He was thrown heavily, and his head touched the lower rail.
(“That’s a finisher!” “He’ll not come again,” were the remarks of
the spectators.)

33.—Spring’s conduct towards Langan was generous and manly, and
deservedly applauded. Langan rushed in and made a blow at his
opponent, which Spring parried, then, laying hold of Langan, let him
down without punishment.

34.—Langan’s determination not only astonished the amateurs, but a
little alarmed the backers of Spring. Without an accident it was
booked almost to a certainty that Spring must win; still an accident
might happen. Langan could not persuade himself that anything alive
could master him. His backers were aware of his opinion, and
therefore would not oppose his resolution. The Irish Champion had
again the worst of it, and went down very much distressed. One hour
and seven minutes had elapsed, therefore all the bets that Spring
proved the conqueror in an hour were lost.

35.—This was a milling round. Langan would not go away, although hit
staggering: he went down as if he would not have been able to come
again. (Four to one on Spring.)

36.—This was ditto, with repeated, if not increased, punishment; yet
Langan returned, and Spring, with a caution that all his backers
must give him credit for, got away when anything like a heavy blow
was levelled at him. Langan fell exhausted. (“Take the brave fellow
away. Where are his backers?” “Very good, indeed,” replied Belcher;
“you are not hurt yet, Jack; and Spring’s hands are too far gone to
hurt you now.” “I will not give in,” said Langan; “I shall win it.”)

37.—Langan fought this round better than any of the spectators could
anticipate. He planted a couple of hits; it is true they were not
effective, but it showed the fight was not out of him. The Irish
Champion fought under the black flag, “death or victory,” and went
down, out-fought at all points.

38.—Belcher brought his man to the scratch, nay, almost carried
him,[8] when, singular to relate, gamecock like, all his energies
appeared to return, and he commenced milling like a hero. Spring
planted four blows without any return, and Langan went down.

39.—Langan was again down.

40.—The hero of the black fogle showed fight till he went down quite
exhausted.

41.—A short round, but it was surprising to witness the strength
exhibited by Langan in the struggle for the throw. Both down, when
Spring patted him on the back.