Chapter IV (3)

The excursionists, immediately on alighting, repaired to the “King’s Arms” inn, and about half a mile thence, across Horley Common, the Commissary obtained the use of a field, high and dry, and screened by a dense belt of evergreen trees from the view of travellers by road or by the Brighton line. The weather was delightful; but although there had been a sharp frost during the night, the genial influence of the sun had produced an unwelcome change in the roads and paths leading to the field of action, and as all had to find their way to the “fixture” upon their ten toes, the quagmire through which they had to wade, however agreeable it might be in softness to their corns, was anything but favourable to the polish on their trotter-cases, or pleasant to those who happened not to have the good fortune to be well shod. These little difficulties having been got over, the greatest good-humour prevailed, and all waited anxiously for the appearance of the men.

With a view to prevent the inconvenience of the slippery state of the sward, a quantity of sawdust was obtained, which was liberally spread at the corners chosen by the men for their resting places. For the accommodation of the members of the inner ring there was an ample supply of stools, benches, and trusses of straw; while a few waggons, after the fashion of times gone by, afforded comfortable standing-places for those who preferred the outer circle. The new plan of one person disposing of the tickets of privilege was on this occasion adopted by Tom Spring, who undertook subsequently to distribute the proceeds amongst those men who assisted in preserving order. The plan proved most effective, and it is but justice to state that all those who paid for the privilege of the inner ring were most pleasantly located, and were enabled to sit comfortably without the usual incursion of the “Vandals,” a result productive of the highest satisfaction. That the partisans of the men occasionally indulged in chaff we will not deny; but this, however unseemly, did not lead to any encroachment upon general good order, and in this respect the expressions of approval were general. Spring, Caunt, Crawley, Jem Burn, the Greeks (old and young), Barney Aaron, Young Reid, Bill Jones, _cum multis aliis_, assisted in this desirable plan, and kept the disorderlies in control.

Shortly before one o’clock, everything being in readiness, the men were brought to the field, Tass Parker attended by Fuller and Tom Reidie, and the Slasher by Bob Castles and a Nottingham amateur. The former sported a flag of blue, with a white spot, and the latter a stone colour, with a pink spot. On entering the ring, they shook hands with apparent good humour, and each retired to his corner to prepare. Then came the important question, the selection of umpires and a referee. With respect to the former no difficulty was felt, and an amateur for the Slasher, and Jack Hannan for Parker, were named. The choice of a referee, however, was not so easily adjusted, and nearly an hour was wasted in discussing the merits of various persons named by both parties, each on his own especial behalf objecting to those offered by his opponent. On the part of Parker it seemed to be determined to have only one of four persons, and to five or six named by the Slasher, some of whom were persons of the highest respectability, a decided objection was made. In this way time progressively, but unprofitably, advanced, and the greatest impatience was displayed. At length Johnny Broome, on behalf of the Slasher, said he was willing that each should select a referee, and that those two persons should decide by toss which was to act, but this met with as firm an opposition as anything by which it had been preceded. Johnny Broome then offered to adopt any gentleman who might be selected from the surrounding crowd, unknown to either party, but to this there was again a negative response, and still more time was lost, while the patience of the throng was put to the severest test from their inactivity and the chilling blast to which they were exposed. All this time the men remained wrapped in blankets at their respective corners. The Slasher now rose from his bottle-holder’s knee, and approaching Parker, offered to fight without a referee, the fight to be protracted until one or other gave in, but still the obstinacy of Parker’s friends was not to be overcome. Finally, after the expiration of an hour at least, the stakeholder, who was present, stepped into the arena, urged on by the repeated expressions of discontent from the surrounding multitude, and having recapitulated the various propositions which had been made, declared that, unless Tass Parker and his friends thought proper to agree either to toss for choice of referee or to fight without one, he should feel it his duty to give up the stakes to that man who was willing to abide by one or other of these propositions. The backer of Tass Parker, finding that he had no alternative, at last agreed that the men should fight without a referee; a resolution for which the subsequent conduct of his principal throughout the fight afforded a sufficient reason, for had any fair and honest referee been in office, there is no doubt that he must have lost the fight over and over again. The interference of the stakeholder was hailed with universal approbation, and the men forthwith proceeded to peel for action, while the “All out!” of the Commissary and the ring-keepers sent the stragglers to their posts.

The umpires having taken their seat close together, provided with a time-telling chronometer, and all being removed from the immediate vicinity of the ring――with the exception of one individual to take charge of the water, and other refreshments of each combatant――Johnny Broome for the Slasher, and Parker’s namesake for his _protége_ (a most wholesome arrangement under the New Rules) business commenced.

Nothing but the force of habit could have made us write the words “The Fight” at the head of the extraordinary and disgraceful parody on a stand-up battle which we are now about to describe. It is, however, only proper to premise that the Slasher must be entirely exonerated from any personal share in this discreditable libel on the already falling P.R., and therefore “to put the saddle on the right horse,” we proceed to our account of

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――The men came up with their hands in good
position, and after manœuvring for a short time Parker
let fly his left, which was cleverly stopped. This led
to a rally, in which very trifling hits were exchanged
left and right, but as they were out of distance no
harm was done, with the exception of a slight
discolouration on the Slasher’s right cheek. Parker, in
getting away from the Slasher’s rush, fell on one knee.

2.――Parker again advanced bold as brass, looking all
over confident, while the Slasher was not less prepared
for action. After a few dodges, advancing and
retreating, Parker popped in his left on the Slasher’s
cheek. The Slasher fought wildly left and right,
missing some of his hits, but planting his right
heavily on the ribs under Parker’s left arm. Wild
exchanges, when, as Parker was slipping on his knees,
the Slasher caught his head under his arm, held it as
if in a vice, and hung on him till he fell tumbling on
him. The exchanges were trifling in their consequences,
and a little flush on the skin was the only indication
of punishment.

3.――Parker came up obviously undismayed by the result
of the last struggle, and apparently resolved to do his
best. He tried his left, which the Slasher neatly threw
aside with his right. The Slasher then advanced,
hitting left and right wildly, and Parker stepping back
to avoid execution. Trifling exchanges with the left.
Parker again away, and watching for an opening to
advance; dodging left and right, but no hitting. Parker
stole a march, popped his left in slightly on the
Slasher’s mouth, and broke away, the Slasher wildly
after him, hitting left and right, but Parker slipped
down on his knees and evaded receiving, thus commencing
his old system. On the Slasher being picked up, blood
was visible from his domino case, and this event was
declared in favour of Parker.

4.――Parker again prepared to lead off, advancing and
retreating, finding the Slasher ready to hit or stop.
At last he hit out with his left, which the Slasher
stopped, and then rushing in left and right he
administered a trifling upper cut with the latter.
Parker retired to his corner, the Slasher after him.
Parker, in ducking to avoid, slipped on his knees, but
was up again in an instant and popped in his left. The
Slasher hit out left and right without precision, and
after a wild, scrambling rally, without mischief,
Parker slipped down.

5.――Slasher first up to the scratch, waiting for the
attack. Parker dodged with his left once or twice, but
not within distance. At length he got closer to his
man, popped in his left on the Slasher’s jaw, who
countered slightly with the left, rushing after Parker,
who retreated to the corner, where he slipped down to
avoid, the Slasher dropping on his knees beside him.

6.――Both ready, but Parker afraid to approach his man.
The Slasher hit out left and right, but was out of
distance, and Parker broke away. Parker again dodging
for an opening, and on getting close up to the work,
left-handed counters were exchanged, but the
impressions were trifling. A wild rally, in which the
Slasher got a slap on the mug, and Parker a heavy hit
on the ribs from the Slasher’s right. A scrambling
exchange of hits left and right, when Parker slipped
down. The hitting was wild, and anything but effective.

7.――The Slasher’s mug somewhat flushed, but anything
but serious in its aspect. Parker feinted with his left
and popped in a pretty crack with his right on the
Slasher’s jaw, and then broke away. Dodging, but no
hitting. The Slasher hit out left and right, but was
short; Parker retreated to his corner; wild but
ineffective exchanges left and right, and Parker
dropped on his knees.

8.――Both at the scratch at the call of time. Parker
tried his left, but was stopped; advancing and
retreating. Parker endeavoured to steal a march, but
was unable to get home, and the Slasher retired
laughing. Parker again advanced, while the Slasher
retreated; neither would go near enough to get to work.
At last they got to a wild rally, missing their hits,
and Parker retreating. Having reached Parker’s corner,
the Slasher weaved left and right, but did not plant
his intended compliments. Parker slipped down, the
Slasher upon him. Parker’s right was puffed from the
effect of one of his flying nobbers.

9.――Offers, but no blows. The Slasher tried his right
at Parker’s nob, but was beautifully stopped, and
Parker broke away. Parker advanced ready to hit with
his left, when the Slasher rushed wildly to him,
weaving left and right, catching Parker on the left ear
with the latter. In the scramble which followed Parker
slipped down, the Slasher upon him.

10.――Parker’s ear flushed, and his nose following suit
in a slight degree. Parker advanced, but retreated the
next moment, and the Slasher went to him. On getting to
his corner there were slight exchanges with the left;
the Slasher hit over Parker’s head with his right, and
Parker dropped.

11.――Parker slow to the scratch, and on the Slasher
advancing he retreated to the ropes. A wild exchange of
hits with the left, when Parker again slipped down on
his knees.

12.――No mischief done as yet, although Parker’s flesh
under the arm indicated the visitations to which it had
been subject. Attempts left and right, in which both
missed their blows. Parker broke away, slipped on one
knee, but jumped up again. Wild exchanges, Slasher
trying his left and right. Parker, ducking to avoid the
Slasher, retreated, but again rushed to the charge,
weaving left and right, ultimately slipping on his
knees, amidst the cries of “cur.”

13.――No sooner at the scratch than the Slasher
advanced; Parker immediately retreated to the ropes,
the Slasher after him; the Slasher hit out right and
left, but Tass ducked under his arm, and escaped the
intended compliments. Parker dropped on one knee, but
again sprang up and caught the Slasher on the cheek
with his left. Slasher missed his left and right, and
Parker fell.

14.――Parker fought on the retreat: a wild scrambling
rally to the corner, and the Slasher slipped down.

15.――Parker advanced and retreated, the Slasher after
him, to his corner. Wild attempts at hitting left and
right on the part of the Slasher, but he was out of
distance, and missed. The Slasher then bored Parker
down on the ropes, himself falling over outside the
ring.

16.――Still no indications of serious mischief. The
Slasher desirous of going to work, Parker retreating.
The Slasher weaving left and right; an exchange of hits
with the latter, and the Slasher again popped in his
right on Parker’s ear, from whence blood was visible.
The Slasher closed, forced Parker down on his knees,
and fell on him.

17.――Parker on the retreat to his corner, the Slasher
after him. Exchanges with the left and right, Parker
getting prettily home with the former. A wild rally,
both missing their blows, when Parker dropped.

18.――Slasher the first to the scratch, and full of
fight; Parker retreated to his corner, the Slasher
after him. Slasher hit out left and right, but without
precision. Parker, on his guard, went down without
attempting to hit.

19.――The Slasher, as usual, the first to obey the call
of time. Parker tried his left, but was cleverly
stopped. The Slasher then rattled to him; Parker
evidently ready to drop, when the Slasher slipped and
fell.

20.――Parker hugging his corner, when the Slasher
rattled to him, but missed; wild hits left and right.
Parker popped in his left and broke away. Slasher again
to the charge, followed his man, caught him a heavy
whack with his right on the jaw, from the effects of
which Parker staggered and fell. The first knock-down
blow for the Slasher.

21.――Tass’s left stopped, and the Slasher rushed in
wildly left and right. In the exchanges the Slasher had
it on the mouth, but again planted his right on his
shifty opponent’s pimple, when he got down.

22.――The Slasher the favourite, and offers to back him
at evens. The Slasher first on his pins. Parker
retreated, the Tipton after him, hitting wildly left
and right, when Parker dropped, but jumped up, hit out
with his left, caught the Slasher slightly, and again
fell, amid exclamations of disgust.

23.――Parker slow from his corner, the Slasher to him,
when, after wild exchanges left and right, with no
execution, Tass went down.

24.――Parker came up evidently a dastard in spirit, and
upon the Slasher rushing to him he slipped down, amidst
the cries of “cur!” and “coward!” Blood was now flowing
freely from the knuckle of Parker’s left hand, which
had in some of the previous rounds come in contact with
the Slasher’s tooth. From this to the thirtieth round
Parker pursued the same cowardly game of making a show
as if he intended to fight, but the moment the Slasher
went to him to hit left and right purposely dropping,
and thereby avoiding the mischief which might be
effected. The Slasher was greatly incensed, turned
round as if appealing to the spectators, who shouted
“cur!” and “coward!” with stentorian voices. The
Slasher’s umpire repeatedly cried “foul,” and nothing
could have been more decidedly opposed to every rule of
fair play; but Hannan, Parker’s umpire, did not
respond. He was silent, but it was not difficult to
discover which way his feelings inclined. In the
thirtieth round Parker, after retreating to his corner,
endeavoured to get down to avoid one of the Slasher’s
wild rushes. The Slasher endeavoured to hold him up,
but in vain; down he went, and the Slasher dropped on
him with his knees. Parker’s backer immediately claimed
“foul” amidst the derision of all around him. It would
be an insult to the understandings of our readers if we
were to pursue our description of the 102 imaginary
rounds which followed, during which Parker went down
fifty times at least, the Slasher most forbearingly
avoiding all temptations to strike or even to fall on
him so as to afford pretence for a claim of “foul.”
More than once Tass threw up his feet so as almost to
kick at his man as he rolled or scrambled over him,
after missing his one, two. It was in vain that the
Slasher essayed to nail him left and right. He ducked
and tumbled whenever there was the slightest chance of
sustaining a hit, inducing universal marks of disgust
at his cowardice, and the words “cur” and “coward”
resounding from all quarters.

In the fifty-seventh round the Slasher was lucky enough
to afford him another excuse for a fall, by giving him
a home slap from the left on the mouth, and laying him
prostrate, while he pointed at him with derision. The
real motive for refusing to agree to the appointment of
an impartial referee now admitted of no doubt. It had
been foreseen that such a man would have long before
this settled the point at issue by declaring the battle
won over and over again by the Slasher. But even the
absence of such a character did not serve the intended
purpose. Hannan, who acted as umpire, declared his
situation to be of a most unenviable description. He
looked appealingly to all around him, and, satisfied
that the conduct of Parker was at variance with every
principle of honour and fair play, he repeatedly sent
to warn him that if he persisted in the same atrocious
cowardice he must agree with the repeated claims of his
co-umpire, who in vain called for his honest and
impartial judgment. The poor fellow actually trembled
with vexation at the shouts of derision which were
directed towards his man, and at length, in the 126th
round, on Parker going down without the most remote
shadow of a blow, unless the wind of the Slasher’s fist
could deserve that character, he involuntarily
exclaimed, in conjunction with his co-partner, and in
accordance with the universal exclamations from every
quarter of the ring, “foul!” This conduct on the part
of Hannan elicited loud approbation, but in a moment he
was surrounded by a knot of the most outrageous
partisans of Parker, who threatened instant
annihilation if he dared to repeat his just opinion. It
was in vain we looked for the honest co-operation of
the real members of the Ring to drive these ruffians
from the arena――they ruled the roost with unblushing
impudence, and treated those who cried shame on their
conduct with insolence and contempt. At last a second
appeal was made to Hannan, but he was dumb, and nothing
but a renewal of the fight would satisfy his
assailants, and renewed the disgraceful scene was, but
with a perfect anticipation of what must be the
ultimate result. Many gentlemen, old and sincere
patrons of fair boxing matches, retired from the
discreditable exhibition. The backer of Tass Parker
asserted that he was so weak as to be incapable of
keeping his legs, while every person who had the power
of exercising the commonest judgment saw that when he
thought proper he could stand as firmly on his pins as
when he commenced. He had not, in fact, received a blow
which could have, in the slightest degree, impaired his
vigour, and were his heart in the right place, he was
just as capable of continuing operations as at the
commencement of the fight. Hannan having resumed his
seat, but pale as ashes, and shaking like an aspen
leaf, the farce was renewed, and for seven rounds more
Parker got up but to fall in the same dastardly manner
which had marked his career. In the 133rd round he made
a show of fighting, and exchanges left and right took
place. Parker then retreated towards the ropes, the
Slasher after him. When the Slasher was about to
commence his wild and indecisive deliveries left and
right, Parker, finding he could not get away, for the
last time dropped without a blow, and the shouts of
“cur” and “coward” were renewed with additional
indignation. This was too much for Hannan, and
incapable longer of stultifying himself and the Ring,
of which he had been, and is, a gallant member, he at
once agreed with the umpire on the other side that
Parker had fallen without a blow, and had thereby lost
the fight. Thus ended this libel on the “manly sports
of the Ring.” The roughs were taken by surprise, and
were incapable of stemming the torrent of general
indignation; but the weak and powerless Parker, in
order to justify the false opinion expressed by his
backer, jumped up with the vigour of a lion, and
rushing to the corner where Johnny Broome stood, having
possessed himself of the colours which had been tied
round the stakes, tore his own colours from his hand,
thereby proving that weakness was the least excuse
which could be offered for his poltroonery. Everybody
except the partisans of Parker was rejoiced at the
termination of this most contemptible display, and
heartily concurred in the propriety of Hannan’s
conduct.

The battle, if it may be so called, admits of but few remarks. The Slasher fought with a wildness and want of precision which enabled Parker to protract the struggle almost indefinitely; for had he been lucky enough to give him one or two stingers, his heart, which was not bigger than a pea, would have forced him at once to shut up; but by his contemptible shifting and dropping he escaped the visitation, and thus owed the confirmation of his defeat to his own pusillanimity. It is stated that the injury to Parker’s right hand early in the fight had disabled that limb, and that he acted under an impression that as there was no referee he had a right to protract the battle by any device, till one or other was incapable of obeying the call of time――that is to say, that every principle which renders boxing praiseworthy should be abandoned, and its worse enemies gratified. In other words, that he might exercise a treacherous strike and drop from the return. Such an argument would not be recognised by the veriest tyro in the P.R. The Slasher, also, complained of his right arm being injured, from having come in contact with Parker’s nob early in the contest, but he certainly brought it into use notwithstanding this injury.

All being over, the crowd returned to the train, stopping at the “King’s Arms” to partake of such refreshment as that hostelrie afforded, which, from long privation, became most acceptable. Parker went through the farce of going to bed, but soon afterwards joined his co-travellers in the train, and all were quickly wafted to the London Bridge terminus once more, from whence they took their departure to their respective quarters. The Slasher scarcely bore a mark of punishment, and on arriving at Johnny Broome’s was hailed with general acclamations. Some of Parker’s friends expressing doubts of his qualities, he announced that he was ready to make a fresh match for £200 a side with his opponent.

On the following Wednesday the stakeholder, notwithstanding a notice of action from Parker’s backers, gave up the stakes (£200) to Johnny Broome, under a guarantee, and of course all bets went with the battle-money. We shall pass over the cloud of correspondence, challenges, and counter-challenges which ensued, to come to the renewed match, which, after innumerable delays, was finally made in the early months of 1846.

On the 4th of August, 1846, Parker for the third and last time entered the ring with “the Tipton,” assuring his somewhat sceptical friends that he had “screwed his courage to the sticking place” and determined to do or die. As the Slasher was now viewed by many as the “coming champion” the final contest between him and his scientific but soft-hearted opponent will be read with interest.

Lindrick Common, Nottinghamshire, eight miles from Sheffield, was the scene of action, the ropes and stakes being furnished by the Manchester Commissary. The attendance of the “upper crust” was by no means numerous, but there was a tidy sprinkling of Yorkshire sportsmen of the north-country Fancy, and a perfect crowd of swarthy miners and pitmen from the neighbouring districts as far as Chesterfield and Derby. An excellent ring was formed, and, as the writer can testify, a degree of order observed which might well shame the “roughs” nearer home. At half-past eleven o’clock the men entered the ring, Reid, of Sheffield, and Nobby Clarke waiting on the Slasher, Jem Parker and Cottrell, of Birmingham, seconding Tass. The betting was tolerably brisk at five to four on Parker, whose friends seemed to be in the ascendant, and certainly better “breeched” than those from “the Potteries.” After nearly an hour’s delay, owing to objections to several parties named as referee――the representative of _Bell’s Life_ positively declining――Squire Edison accepted the office amidst acclamations, and the men faced each other for

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――The attitude of Parker, his left well up in a
line with his left foot, and his right fore-arm
slightly bent, and below the level of his left elbow,
was graceful and attractive; he stood firm, yet
springy, poised lightly on his forward foot, and was
equally prepared for advance or retreat. His condition
appeared first-rate, and his weight, 11st. 6lb., seemed
well distributed for activity and powerful effort; his
countenance was smiling and confident, and his age (33
years) sat lightly upon him. His massive and ungainly
antagonist offered a striking contrast; brown, burly,
and, as Paddy would say, “big for his size,” he grinned
grotesquely at his slighter rival, nor was the oddity
of his mirthful mug by any means lessened by the fact
of his front railings having been displaced in bygone
battles. He, too, was hard, and had evidently been
brought, by severe training, into as good condition as
we have ever seen him on former occasions. From the
waist to the shoulders he was a model for a gladiator,
but we doubt if the artist or the sculptor would feel
inclined to copy his capital or his pedestals, inasmuch
as the first is, despite a comic expression of
good-humour, as odd a conglomeration of features as
Gillray or Cruikshank would desire to pencil; while the
latter more resemble the letter K than the parallel
supports which society has agreed to term symmetrical.
His weight was 13st. 4lb.; his age twenty-seven, having
been born in 1819, although the displacement of his
grinders gave him a more antique aspect. Little time
was lost in sparring, for the Slasher, his left
presented and his right kept close to the mark, walked
in upon his man, grinning mischief. Tass let go his
left, but was stopped rather neatly; he broke ground
and retreated, but the Slasher, working round, forced
him into his corner, where several sharp and rapid
exchanges took place, Parker twice popping in his left,
but ineffectively, and the Slasher countering, in one
instance with a heavy hit on Tass’s chest. After a
little manœuvring, the Tipton, resolved to force the
fighting, stepped gradually in, Tass retreating, and
endeavouring to plant his favourite job; it was no go;
taught by previous experience, the Tipton would not
make play until his opponent let loose, and then, with
more tact than we have hitherto seen him display, he
countered with his left, and bringing up his right,
caught Tass a sounder on the ribs. Toss leaped back,
but renewed the hitting merrily, getting down at close
quarters to avoid a return of the Tipton’s right.

2.――Tass, serious, looked as if measuring his work; the
Tipton grinning. Fast fighting for big’uns seemed the
order of the day. Tass got in on the Slasher’s mouth,
who followed him fiercely, screwing himself up for
mischief. Tass fought beautifully, but there seemed
little sting in his deliveries; there was some
excellent mutual stopping, which elicited applause,
especially for the Slasher, of whom it was least
expected. Tass again got in one on the Tipton’s chest,
who returned it with his right, and Tass went to earth,
half with his own consent.

3.――The Slasher came up on the grin, and walked into
his opponent without delay. Parker again fought well,
though both were over fast. Merry work, but little harm
done, till Tass sent his right, straight as an arrow,
on the Tipton’s left jaw, and down went his house,
Parker also falling from his own blow. An uproarious
chevy; first knock-down for Parker.

4.――Parker came up cautious, with an ugly cut over the
right eyebrow. First blood for the Slasher. A short
round; the Tipton again drove Tass before him to his
corner, where he got down to avoid.

5.――As before, the Slasher seemed to have made up his
mind there should be no idling; no sooner at the
scratch than he was at work. Tass popped at him, but
was short, and the Tipton missed his counter-hit. The
Slasher laughed, and tried it again, but was stopped. A
little rally at the ropes, and Parker, after an
exchange or two, dropped on his knees.

6.――Tass manœuvring, Tipton fighting, but not getting
home. Tipton’s seconds advised him to wait for Tass’s
play; he did so, and was rewarded by success. He met
Parker, as he jumped in, with the left, and bringing up
his right gave him a ribber that laid him on the earth,
half doubled up.

7.――Slasher too fast, his opponent too slow. A short
specimen of “You run away, and see if I don’t come
after you.” At length Tass popped in a blow on
Slasher’s shoulder, who closed. A brief struggle
followed; the Tipton got the crook with his crooked
leg, and threw Tass, falling with his broad base on his
antagonist’s victualling store. It was a burster (two
to one on the Slasher).

8.――A short bout of hitting, stopping, and feinting.
Tipton let fly, Tass slipped away and got down cunning.

9.――Slasher’s left neatly stopped, and Parker’s return
parried. Parker flared up for a moment, and got in one,
two, but produced no impression on his man, who went in
laughing. Tass tried to evade him, but the Slasher
closed; both down after a struggle, during which Tass’s
hand was seen across the Tipton man’s face, and a cry
of “foul” was raised. Some confusion; Slasher appealed
to the referee, charging Parker with the unmanly act of
biting him in a previous round, when he was in the act
of throwing him, and in this round of an attempt to
injure his eye. The referee ordered the men to proceed.

10.――Tass came up with a large black patch on his
sinister eyebrow, and his most prominent feature
somewhat damaged. Tipton eagerly after him, but Tass
was too shifty to be immediately had; he gave the
Slasher two pops; the latter, however, was with him,
and ultimately hit him down.

11.――Tass held his arms almost at full extent, and
manœuvred round his man; the Slasher, more cautious,
faced him steadily. At length the men got nearer,
exchanged blows, and Tass fell to finish the round.

12.――So soon as up the Tipton went in, but Tass
declined the compliment, and avoiding his one, two,
which were wasted on thin air, got down anyhow.

13.――Half a minute’s posturing. Tass plunged in with
his left, but was short; tried his right, but was
stopped. The Slasher got close, Tass was unable to hit
him off, and he delivered a half-arm pounder with his
right. Tass fell because this time he could not help
it.

14.――Tass played with his man; he seemed more than half
tired of his job. The Tipton leary, and not to be drawn
by feints. Slasher went in, and down tumbled Tass,
amidst shouts of disapprobation.

15.――Parker came up slowly; good stops on both sides;
Tipton, quitting the defensive, rattled in; Tass
rallied sharply, but in the end received an ugly
upper-cut on the dial, and fell.

16.――Tass somewhat disfigured, while the Tipton’s ugly
mug seemed altogether unaltered. After some slight
exchanges Tass dropped.

17.――Parker’s tactics seemed at fault; he sparred a few
seconds, but on the Slasher stepping in, found his way
to the ground rather equivocally.

18.――Tass flared up momentarily. He tried it on with
both hands in succession. Tipton cleverly foiled him;
indeed, Tass did not get near enough to his man to do
work. Tipton returned. The old game was played――Tass
selected his mother earth.

19.――Tass’s left again short; he was too fond of long
bowls. A close, and Tass got down as well as he could.

20.――Parker made play, and getting a little nearer,
dropped his bunch of fives on the Tipton’s mouth; tried
it again, but fell short, and got a left-handed nobber
in return that floored him neatly.

21.――Both Tass’s hands seemed to have lost their
cunning. His heart was not big enough to carry him in,
nor, when there by accident, to allow him to stand a
rally. He fought badly and out of distance, and at
length scrambled down to avoid the resolute charge of
the Slasher, who gave him a nasty one on the side of
the nut as he was on his journey to earth.

22.――Perry drove his man all across the ring. Some
pretty exchanges. Parker got home on Tipton’s dial, who
missed the return. A short, irregular rally. Tass again
got in once or twice, but they seemed mere taps. At
length the Slasher, who had been screwing himself up,
sent out his left straight as an arrow at his
opponent’s head. The concussion was like the kick of a
coach-horse, took effect at the base of Parker’s left
nostril, and he fell as if shot. “It’s all over,” was
the cry; and the Tipton remained for some time in the
middle of the ring to favour the company with a few
polka steps, for which his swing leg was peculiarly
adapted.

23 and last.――Tass, to the astonishment of all, came up
at the call of time, but it was evident the last hit
had been a settler and had sent his faculties all
abroad. Although he assumed an attitude, he stared
perplexedly at his opponent, and swerved from the
perpendicular as he broke ground. The Tipton surveyed
him a moment before he stepped forward, but no sooner
did Tass perceive his approach, than, either from
bewilderment or a faint heart, he fell forward on both
knees, and thence on his hands. The Slasher turned
appealingly to the umpires and referee, without having
even offered to strike. The case was clear; and amid
the shouts of the multitude the Slasher was greeted as
the conqueror. Time, twenty-seven minutes.

REMARKS.――The Slasher fought better than we have seen
him on any previous occasion; his confidence and
condition――of which latter absurd rumours were
afloat――were on a par with his coolness and courage. To
the former he added tact in waiting for his opponent’s
delivery of a blow, and a skill in counter-hitting for
which we did not give him credit; this, added to his
physical superiority in weight and thews, left his
lighter and more active opponent almost without a
chance, and the contest was reduced to a mere question
of time, the ultimate result being scarcely within the
scope of doubt. Of the defeated man we can only say
that although he fought three or four rounds in a
spirited――nay, an almost desperate manner, his conduct
in the vast majority so much savoured of Falstaff’s
“better part of valour,” that his claim to the
character of a game man still remains unproven, while
his attribute of skill, so loudly vaunted by his
infatuated admirers, has suffered considerably by this
exhibition; this, however, may partly be owing to the
improvement in his antagonist’s tactics which, by
frustrating his earlier efforts, so disheartened him
that he never showed to less advantage. The question of
superiority can no longer be mooted; Tass’s quickness
and skill have lost their striking advantage, while the
Slasher’s strength and pluck, on this occasion seconded
by a respectable amount of science, have by no means
fallen off. Tass’s friends attribute his defeat to his
having had two ribs broken in the seventh round, from
the Slasher falling heavily on him, and he certainly
remained under the surgeon’s hands, who confirmed the
aforesaid fracture.

After the above battle, the Tipton Slasher issued a challenge to Caunt to fight for £100 a side; this Caunt declined to do, and staked £500 in the hands of the editor of _Bell’s Life_, declaring, at the same time, his willingness to fight the Slasher for £500, but for no smaller sum. Much angry correspondence passed between them, which is utterly unworthy of preservation; and in the latter part of 1846 Johnny Broome presented a belt to the Slasher, whereon Caunt lowered his terms to £200, with a stipulation that if that condition was not accepted within a month, his retirement from the Ring was absolute. This, however, was not suitable to Broome and Co., though the Slasher was ready and willing.[20]

We may hear note, retrospectively, that in December, 1844, yet another “big ’un” had made his _debut_ in the P.R., who, in a future chapter, will figure among the numerous candidates for the much-wrangled Championship. This was Tom Paddock, who, in the month of December, beat Elijah Parsons, at Sutton Coldfield. Following this, he twice defeated Nobby Clarke, a chicken-hearted but scientific 12-stone man, in January, 1846, and in April, 1847. Paddock’s next venture was with the renowned Bendigo, with whom he lost the battle by a foul blow, June 5, 1850.

In September, 1849, the Tipton, having forfeited to Con Parker, on account of ill-health, was challenged thereafter by Tom Paddock, soon after the latter had lost what many thought to be a winning fight with Bendigo. In this affair, by some shuffling on the part of Perry’s money-finders, a curious “draw” was manipulated, neither of the parties being ready to go on at the fourth deposit, on August 22nd, 1850, taking back their stakes by mutual consent. The Slasher, finding other and more reliable friends, renewed the articles, and on December 17th, 1850, the rivals at last came together, face to face, in the ring. The Tipton trained for this encounter under Levi Eckersley, near Liverpool, while Paddock had his advice and exercise with Bob Fuller and Jem Turner, than whom two better trainers did not exist.

On the Monday previous, the Slasher arrived at Tom Spring’s, and Paddock set up his rest at Jem Burn’s, where they were surrounded by admiring coteries. The betting was 6 to 4 on the Slasher, whose superior weight and experience gave him that advantage in the odds.

All requisite arrangements for the meeting had been undertaken by Spring and Burn, and after sundry cogitations they decided on an excursion-train on the South Western Railway. Half-past nine on Tuesday morning was the time named for departure, and long before that hour arrived, the platform at Waterloo displayed a goodly muster of folks “wot love a mill,” including many old stagers, “swells,” and patrons of all degrees. The professors were also numerous in their attendance, and included twenty men who had been selected to preserve order. We could not but remark, however, the absence of that quaint fun and humour which, in the days of Josh Hudson, Jack Scroggins, Young Dutch Sam, and Frosty-faced Fogo, flung an air of good-humoured frolic on such assemblages, affording scenes for the pencil of George Cruikshank, and food for the pen-and-ink sketches of the Ring-historians of the day. To the question “Whither are we bound?” no response was given. The captain started with sealed orders, and had a sort of roving commission as to the place at which he should cast anchor. Suffice it to say, the pace was first-rate and there was but one stoppage till Bishopstoke was reached. The men were in separate carriages, and there was a wide contrast in their bearing, Paddock being all mercurial and double jolly, and the Slasher as solid and steady as Cardinal Wiseman on a fast-day.

It was intended to turn off on the Salisbury line and bring up at Dean, on the borders of Wilts. The Hampshire police, however, were on the alert, with an assurance that the Wiltshire folks were equally wide-awake, and determined to spoil sport. Information to this extent was quickly conveyed to the managers, and, after a short consultation, “bock agen” was the order of the day. Various places were mentioned as likely to afford a quiet and welcome reception, and the first attempt was made between Andover and Winchfield, but no sooner was the ring pitched than the Hampshire blues once more hove in sight, and the jaded travellers had again to enter the carriages. Thus was time wasted, and the hour of three arrived before the caravan again got under way. It was then agreed to go to Woking Common, and many bets were offered that the contest would not come off that day. A strong desire, however, was expressed that it should be settled, and about half-past three a stoppage was made between a couple of high embankments, which, on being scaled, exposed to view a remote corner of Woking Common. The land of promise thus reached, the office was given, for the last time, to disembark. A site for a ring was quickly discovered, and although not a very desirable spot, still, it was the only one to be had, and no time was lost in forming the magic square. A limited outer ring was also formed, and tickets, at 5s. each, distributed to those who sought the privilege of a close proximity to the scene of action, the produce being afterwards equally divided among the ringkeepers. It was now four o’clock, and the day fast waning; in fact, it was difficult to distinguish the faces of persons from one side of the ring to the other; but a clear moon hung out its lamp, and promised a continuance of light. All being in readiness, Paddock flung his castor into the ring, following it himself amidst loud cheers. He was attended by Jack Hannan and Bob Fuller. The Slasher, who was not long after him, was waited on by Nobby Clarke and Jem Molyneux. Paddock looked fresh, laughing, and apparently confident; while the Slasher was cool, quiet, and smiling. After a great deal of difficulty as to the selection of a referee, both parties agreed upon Ned Donnelly. Jem Burn addressed this functionary on the part of Paddock, and said all he wanted was a fair and manly fight, and that there should be no captious objections to any accidental occurrence. He wished the merits of the men might be fairly tested, and only desired that the best man might win. The men now prepared for action, and at thirty minutes past four, the rising moon looking modest from the east, and the last rays of the setting sun painting the western horizon, the gladiators appeared at the scratch, and commenced

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――The men having chosen their corners, fortune
enabled the Slasher to place his back to the rising
moon, so that his toothless mug was in shade. His
herculean frame was, however, sufficiently visible, and
his easy confidence and quiet deportment increased the
confidence of his friends, and led all who scanned his
proportions to consider him perfectly competent to hit
down a hippopotamus; or, like the Greek boxer of old,
floor a cantankerous bull, even without the assistance
of the cestus. Paddock, although when opposed to
Bendigo he appeared of the burly breed, loomed small in
contrast with the Slasher. The disparity in their size
was obvious, and as he jumped about seeking an opening,
a veteran ring-goer exclaimed, “It’s any odds against
the young’un, he’s got his master before him now.” In
fact, the very style of holding up his hands, and the
yokel-like feints (completely out of distance) with
which he commenced, showed he was puzzled how to begin
the job he had so confidently undertaken; presently he
determined to chance it, and jumped in. Fortune favours
the bold, and he gave the Slasher a clout on the
jaw-bone with his left, the Tipton hitting in return on
his shoulder or breast, and driving him back. The
Slasher stepped in; Paddock retreated before him to his
corner, hitting up again, but the Tipton stopped him. A
smart exchange took place, and Paddock slipped down to
get out of mischief.

2.――Paddock began by trying his left twice, and barely
reaching the Slasher, who dealt him a body blow with
the right. Some heavy hits in weaving style, and a
half-round body blow or two followed, the sound rather
than the effect of the hitting being perceptible. The
Tipton closed with Paddock, who struggled for a moment,
and was then thrown on his back, the Tipton lending him
thirteen stone additional to hasten his fall.

3.――Two to one on the Tipton. The Slasher missed
Paddock two or three times, owing to his active,
jumping away; still he steadily pursued him. Paddock
tried both hands, but had the worst of the exchanges;
still there was no harm done. Paddock made a lunge with
the right, but Tipton met him a smasher, and hit him
down, almost falling over him. First knock-down for the
Slasher.

4.――It was now stated that Paddock had dislocated his
shoulder; it was no doubt injured, but not out of
joint. He tried his left in a flurried manner, but the
Tipton feinted with the left, drove him back, and
Paddock fell to avoid.

5.――The Tipton went to work quickly, but steadily; he
caught Paddock on the body with the right, and on the
left cheek heavily with the left, as he was jumping
round, and down went Paddock among the bottles in his
own corner.

6.――Tipton gave Paddock no rest or time for reflection,
but pelted away. Paddock skipped about, and escaped
against the ropes; from his corner, hit up, catching
the Tipton on the side of the neck slightly, and
dropped on one knee. The Tipton might have given him a
finisher, but did not avail himself of the chance,
threw up his hands and walked away.

7.――Paddock hit Tipton sharply with the left on the
forehead as he came in. Tipton missed his right, but
caught Paddock a nasty “polthogue” on the nob as he was
going back. Paddock fell on the ropes but was not down.
The Tipton dropped his hands and came away from him,
disdaining to hit him in that position. “Bravo,
Tipton!”

8.――As before; Tipton making the play and forcing his
man, who could not make head against the attack, and
jumped about like “a parched pea.” Paddock fell at
Tipton’s feet, who, the friends of Paddock declared,
tried to tread on him, and appealed accordingly. It was
a “forlorn hope,” and the referee said “he saw nothing
foul.”

9.――Paddock jumped up as usual, just reaching Tipton’s
chin, for which he was punished with a sounding ribber.
Tipton stepped in, and down dropped Master Paddock.

10.――Exchanges, but no effects visible, except a little
blood from Paddock’s cheek. First blood for Tipton. The
Tipton hit out right and left, and caught the Redditch
man on the nob and body, who staggered half-way across
the ring, and fell.

11.――Tipton once again on Paddock’s body. Paddock fell
in the bustle without a hit.

12.――Paddock shifting and retreating. A slight
exchange, and Paddock fell to avoid.

13.――Tipton forced Paddock into his corner, but before
he could do any mischief Paddock fell. A claim of
“foul,” but not acknowledged.

14.――Tipton just touched Paddock with his left, who
kept slipping back. Tipton followed him, and he
dropped. Another appeal that Paddock fell without a
blow, but the Tipton party waived the objection.

15.――Paddock hit the Tipton, then slipped half down,
jumped up again, and resumed the fight. Tipton went to
work, and hit him down in the short rally.

16, 17, 18, and 19.――As like each other as peas.
Slasher made at Paddock, who wouldn’t stand his charge,
and fell to avoid. Appeals. “We don’t want to win by a
foul,” said the Tiptonians.

20.――Paddock’s right arm hung as if disabled, but he
brought it into play when action commenced. The Tipton
drove him to the ropes, and hit him down.

21.――Paddock, in jumping away, caught his right heel
against the centre stake, and stumbled down, but jumped
up again. Seeing Tipton close on to him, however, he
dropped on to his knees.

22.――As the moon got higher, the light improved. The
Tipton, in bustling Paddock, got a body hit, which he
retorted with a heavy right-hander on Paddock’s
smelling organ, and down he went quite bothered.

23.――Paddock came up with his face painted carmine
colour, and was no sooner at the scratch than he was
down. Another appeal.

24.――Wild exchanges. Paddock on the shift. The Tipton
gave Paddock a topper on the head, high up, when he
fell, and Tipton over him.

25.――A slight rally in Paddock’s corner. Paddock rushed
at Tipton, who made an awkward step back. Paddock
pushed rather than struck at him with the left, and
forced the Tipton over. (Cheers for Paddock.)

26.――It was all U.P. Tipton went in with both hands,
and Paddock fell without a blow. Appeal repeated.

27 and last.――The odds were the Great Glass-case of ’51
against a cucumber-frame. The Tipton gave Master
Paddock a pelt on the head, and began punching at him
among his bottles and traps at the corner stake.
Paddock dropped, and the Tipton, fearing to give a
chance away, was about to return to his own corner, as
he had several times done when up jumped the Redditch
man, and rushing at the Slasher, lent him such a dig
just at the back of the left ear, with his right, that
down tumbled Tipton, half with astonishment, half with
the blow, and, as Paddy would say, “the third half of
him fell just because it was not used to stand
upright.” A more palpable “foul” was never seen. The
spectators jumped from their seats, and all sorts of
people got into the ring. The Tipton walked towards the
referee for his decision, and that functionary
pronounced it “foul;” and so ended the great little
fight for the Championship, in forty-two minutes, the
dial showing twelve minutes after five.

REMARKS.――A Scotch proverb declares――

“It’s muckle cry, and little woo,
As the de’il said, when he clipt the soo;”

and this exhibition was certainly a complete
“pig-shearing” excursion. The Slasher was not only in
splendid condition, but his method of fighting, long
arms, and great experience, made it no match. True, he
was not to blame that it was so bad a fight, for as one
man can take a horse to water, but twenty can’t make
him drink, so let a man be ever so willing to make a
merry mill of it, he can’t do so, if his opponent won’t
have it. As to Paddock, he was so manifestly
over-matched, and over-rated, that he had not the
shadow of a chance; and the rush that proved perilous
to Bendigo――old, stale, under 12 stone, and a practiser
of retreating tactics――was not only useless against the
bulky, firm-standing Slasher, but was certain
destruction to the assailant, from the Tipton’s tact at
countering, his superior strength, and immense weight.
In fact, it was “a horse to a hen” on all points.

The return to the carriages was as speedy as circumstances and awkward clayey drains and ditches would permit, but all were safely seated, the agreeable whistle of departure sounded, and the whole party delivered at the Nine Elms terminus by six o’clock; the Slasher, merry as a grig, and loudly cheered, while Paddock complained of severe injury to his shoulder, which, if serious, was certainly aggravated by his last effort to do unlawful execution. The Tipton was received at the “Castle” with a flourish of “See the conquering hero comes!” while Paddock quietly returned to the “Queen’s Head,” where he received surgical attendance; and it was officially reported that he “had injured the bone of his shoulder, and that a sling must be worn as a safeguard against the consequences of moving the joint.”

Once more the Slasher laid claim to the Championship, and requested that Bendigo would, “according to agreement (?)” hand over the belt which he had so long held, or, if he declined doing so, the Tipton “would be proud to give him the chance of retaining it, by meeting him for any sum he might like to name.” The Tipton further announced his readiness “to make a match with any man in the world from £200 to £500 a side.”