Langan still went for the body, and Spring, than whom there was never a cooler boxer, waited for the attack each time; and as Langan lunged forward from long range, lowering his head as he did so, the champion caught him on the face. There was a great deal of wrestling throughout this battle and in the early rounds Spring had been heavily thrown. In the eighth round, the champion who felt himself to be the better boxer, knowing well that he had been getting the worst of the throws, fought much harder and drove Langan into his corner. But he had been hitting the Irishman about his head with great force, and, like Jem Belcher with Tom Cribb, he had injured his hands. The knuckles were not actually driven up, but Spring’s hands “puffed” easily, and already they were swollen and soft, and each blow, especially with the left hand, was an agony to him. This round ended with both men slipping down. So far Spring was unmarked, while Langan was already a good deal disfigured and bleeding. A little later he sent in a tremendous left on the mark, but he had misjudged his distance and the blow was short and did no harm. A good bit of boxing followed, for Spring countered and the Irishman ducked from the blow, whereupon the champion caught him with a sharp upper-cut; then he closed and threw Langan hard. The thirteenth round was a hard one for Langan, Spring hitting him severely on the nose with the right and closing his eye with a smashing left.
It must be remembered that all this time the champion’s hands were growing more and more soft, that each blow he struck was more painful than the one before. And yet all the time he kept quietly confident, never grew flustered, and, besides throwing his man, still hit him hard. He, too, was often thrown, and the nineteenth round found both men panting with their exertions. In the next round Spring fought with tremendous vigour. He dashed at his man, drove him round the ring, then closed and hurled him to the grass, but refrained from falling on him which, by the rules of that day, he was entitled to do.
The Irish champion was now definitely getting the worst of it, though Spring showed signs of weakness. However, he ended the twenty-seventh round by a right-hand blow on the face which lifted Langan from the ground. Langan came up again and yet again, but now always to be knocked or thrown down. He was much marked, but had been perfectly trained and was a man of iron constitution. Spring was looking pale and was clearly growing weak, but his skill and judgment were never at fault. By the thirty-fifth round the officials had all they could do to keep a clear space in the ring for the men to fight in. The rounds now were very short. In the forty-fourth Langan made his last desperate effort and did, in fact, hit as well as Spring, the round ending by both going down together. After that, however, his strength had quite gone. The fight went on till seventy-five rounds had been fought in two hours and ten minutes. Finally Spring sent in a right-hander on the neck which knocked Langan clean out of time. He lost consciousness, and when he recovered on Cribb’s knee wanted to go on, furious when his seconds restrained him, mortified to find that time had indeed been called. He rose, but immediately fell back into Cribb’s arms.
It was generally held that Spring would have won much sooner but for the puffing of his left hand. His right was injured too, but remained effective if painful until the end.
After this battle, Tom Reynolds, Langan’s second and friend, complained that his principal had not been given fair play, and that the crowd had been allowed by Spring’s backers to break the ring because his antagonist was an Irishman. In point of fact, the breaking of the ring was no more to Langan’s disadvantage than the champion’s. Anyhow, Langan was not satisfied, and a little later challenged Spring again, this time for the very large prize (in those days) of £500 a side. Langan stipulated for a raised and boarded stage, such as had been used for the battle between Cribb and Molineux. At first the champion objected to this, because he knew Langan’s wrestling powers, and that to be thrown upon boards is a much worse business than upon grass. However, he agreed in the end, for he saw Langan’s point, namely, that a crowd cannot break a ring so easily upon a raised stage as in an open field.
The second match took place at Birdham Bridge, near Chichester, on June 8th, 1824. Once again there was an enormous crowd, and this time the ring was protected not only by being raised, but by a circle formed by fifty-three farm wagons round about it.
Spring was, naturally, the favourite. He brought down the scales at 13 stone 4 lb., whilst Langan was a stone under that amount, and was by some judges thought to have over-trained.
John Jackson, as was usual at all notable battles since his retirement, superintended all the arrangements in connection with the ring.
Spring was once again seconded by the old champion and Painter, Langan by Tom Belcher and O’Neil. Colours were tied to the posts in the men’s respective corners: blue with white spots for Spring, black for Langan.
The fight began in very much the same way as the other between these men. Nothing of any particular note occurred until the seventh round, which was as good as any ever seen in the Prize-Ring. Spring led with his left and hit Langan hard in the face, stepping back at once. In those days they talked of Spring’s “harlequin step,” for he danced up to a man, hit or missed, as the case might be, and danced away again, extraordinarily light and easy upon his feet, and wonderfully quick. Now he was dancing in again, and hit Langan on the ear and nose. The Irishman came for more and was driven away with a stinging spank on the cheek-bone. His backers now called on him to exert himself, and he rushed at Spring, a great rally taking place, blow for blow, though Langan got the worst of it. Then they closed, and Spring threw his man heavily on the boards. Both were blowing when the round ended. It was “the Bank of England to a nutshell” on Spring, but Langan was a true Irishman. One of the differences between the English and the Irish is this: the Englishman doesn’t know when he is beaten: the Irishman neither knows nor cares. With or without the chance of winning, Langan continued to fight.