The champion refused to run any risks though it was clearly evident by now that he had his man beaten. He stepped away from his blows, and refused to run risks by dashing heedlessly in. Presently, however, he drew Neate’s guard with a feint, and let fly left and right on the face, knocking his antagonist down.
The last round, the eighth, made Neate “look like a novice,” as they say to-day. Spring went for his man and hit him as he pleased. Bill tried to use his left, but each blow was ill-timed and ill-judged and went nowhere near the champion. Spring then sent in a right-hander on the face which knocked his man clean off his legs. On the call of time Neate held out his hand to the champion, complaining that he could fight no more with his broken arm. The whole mill was over in thirty-seven minutes.
Neate was plucky to fight so long as he did with a broken arm, but we cannot make too much fuss about it, for several men have fought for longer with similar injuries. He was, too, beaten at the outset, as we have shown, simply by force of character. In his heart of hearts he gave in then, though he took plenty of punishment afterwards bravely enough. But it is braver to go on wanting to win than to endure hurt with resignation.
CHAPTER XIII
TOM SPRING AND JACK LANGAN
The year 1824 was the climax of the best period of the Prize-Ring. There were good fights in later years, as we shall see, first-rate champions, high skill, noble endurance: but the institution of the Ring was never in such good case again. And the most notable events of that year in pugilism were the two great fights between the Champion of England, Tom Spring, and the Champion of Ireland, Jack Langan.
This combat, which was for £300 a side, took place at Worcester Racecourse on January 7th. The men were splendidly matched, in years and in physique. Langan was twenty-five, Spring twenty-nine. There was no serious difference in their weight or height. Spring was the better built man, with the body of an all-round athlete; whilst Langan was awkwardly made, hard, angular, with enormous hands. He was known as a brave and skilful fighter, though he had never fought a battle yet with any men of the first rank.
The magistrates in the neighbourhood of Worcester had at first shown signs of opposition to the fight, but considerable influence was brought to bear upon them, so many great sportsmen were interested in the event, that they gave way; and, far from being secret and improvised, the arrangements for the great battle were as deliberate and as open as those for a public funeral. Stands were built about the racecourse, a special ring was constructed, and accommodation, it is said, for at least 20,000 spectators was provided. All the roads of England, so to speak, converged upon Worcester, and men paid a guinea for a shake-down in the loft of a small ale-house. Indeed, the people of Worcester subscribed £200 to the agents of Spring and Langan to make sure of the battle taking place there, so certain were they of the harvest to come. Onlookers were in their places two hours before the fight began, and the rigging of vessels lying in the Severn, which flowed beside the course, was full of those who could not raise the five shillings, which was the smallest price for a place on the stands.
Spring was once more seconded by Tom Cribb and Ned Painter, Lord Deerhrust acting as his umpire. Josh. Hudson and Tom Reynolds attended to Langan, whilst his umpire was Sir H. Goodricke. Colonel Berkeley was chosen by these umpires as the referee.
The first round was uneventful. The men were excessively cautious and few blows were struck. It was observed that Langan’s guard was highly efficient. Spring finally got in a heavy left on his opponent’s right eye and Langan went down. At the next meeting the Irishman went for the body, but Spring’s defence was very sure, and the two stood toe to toe watching for an opportunity for some time. Finally Spring landed with both hands, and later knocked Langan down with quite a slight hit. During this round one of the stands overlooking the ring collapsed and many people were severely injured. The two boxers waited to find out if any one had been killed before continuing to fight. Fortunately, broken arms and legs were the most serious injuries. This untoward event resulted in about 2000 people who had occupied seats being added to the crowd standing between the wrecked stand and the ring. Owing to this, violent pressure was, from then onwards till the end of the battle, thrown against the ropes, so that the outer ring was entirely broken, and the inner was constantly altering in shape, sometimes hardly leaving the men ten square feet to fight in. No doubt, as usual, many roughs were present, but the breaking of the ring on this occasion may reasonably be attributed to accident rather than a deliberate plan.