Prone as human nature ever is, now as then, to judge by net results, Mendoza’s reputation nevertheless suffered little from this defeat. On the contrary, he had boxed so well and had shown so much courage that he had, if anything, enhanced it. It was seen that he was a much quicker man than Humphries and that he was far better at close quarters. On the other hand, Mendoza was not a really hard hitter.
After this battle the winner wrote a note to his backer and patron, Mr. Bradyl, which delightfully summed up the situation:—
“Sir,—I have done the Jew, and am in good health.
“Richard Humphries.”
But a number of sportsmen were by no means satisfied that Humphries had “done” the Jew on his own merits. They fully realised that accident had materially helped in that “doing,” and accordingly were ready to back the Jew again. The two men being quite willing, a match was arranged and was eventually fought in Mr. Thornton’s park, near Stilton, in Huntingdonshire, on May 6th, 1789. For this encounter, popular excitement being very great, a sort of amphitheatre was built with seats piled tier on tier around the ring. It held nearly 3000 people. This, too, was an unsatisfactory fight, but has to be chronicled because it illustrates very vividly some of the causes which nearly a hundred years later finally brought the Prize-Ring to ignominy, and because, also, it shows how mixed are human motives and emotions during severe physical strain.
The men squared up to each other, and Humphries made the first attack, but Mendoza stopped the blow neatly and sent in a hard counter which knocked his antagonist down. The second and third rounds ended in exactly the same way. The Jew’s confidence was complete, his speed remarkable. He had learned to hit no harder, but he certainly hit more often than Humphries. For about forty minutes Mendoza had much the best of it, taking his adversary’s blows on his forearm, instantly replying with his quick, straight left, or closing and throwing Humphries.
The feeling of impotency, of long effort continuously baffled, finds the breaking point of a boxer’s pluck much sooner than severe punishment relieved by a successful counter from time to time. Humphries was tired, but not seriously hurt. In the twenty-second round Mendoza struck at him, but he avoided the blow and dropped. He did not slip. As the Jew’s fist came towards him he made the almost automatic movement which should ensure its harmlessness, but at the same moment he deliberately made up his mind to take the half minute’s rest then and there. Or perhaps that was instinctive too. The human mind flits quickly through the processes or stages of intention and comes to a certain conclusion. Humphries wanted to gain time and fell without a blow. Now the articles of agreement expressly stated that if either man fell without a blow he should lose the fight. And the cries of “Foul!” from the crowd and especially from Mendoza’s corner were natural enough. But Humphries and his backers claimed the fall a fair one because Mendoza had struck a blow, though it had not, as a matter of fact, landed. The partisans on either side wrangled and argued, and finally a general fight seemed almost inevitable. Above the yelling and cursing of the crowd and in the general confusion, the umpires could scarcely be heard. Sir Thomas Apreece, Mendoza’s umpire, naturally shouted that it was a foul and that Humphries was beaten. Mr. Combe, the other umpire, held his tongue, refusing to give an opinion. That should have been sufficient. But Mendoza’s second lost his temper and shouted across the ring to Tom Johnson, who was once again seconding Humphries, that he was a liar and a scoundrel. This observation may not have been strictly to the point, but the point (save that of the jaw) is the last consideration when feeling runs high on notable public occasions. Johnson said nothing and began to cross the ring in his slow, heavy way, looking very dangerous. But a diversion interrupted a promising bye-battle, for Humphries stood up and called on Mendoza to continue fighting, carrying the war, as it were, into the enemy’s country by taunting him with cowardice. Mendoza was willing enough, but his backers held him back. Humphries then threw up his hat and challenged the Jew to a fresh battle, and at last they fell to again. And yet again Mendoza showed himself the better man, knocking Humphries down twice in succession. For half an hour the second act of this drama continued indecisive, though Mendoza was evidently the better and more skilful man. He now punished Humphries severely, closing one of his eyes, severely cutting his forehead and lip. He had little in return, though Humphries had put in some heavy body-blows at close quarters which had made the Jew wince. But throughout the second half of the fight Humphries fought with perfect courage and even confidence. Then at last he again fell without a blow, and Mendoza was declared the winner.
Broughton and Slack.
In the memorable battle at the Amphitheatre, on Tuesday April 10, 1750.