15.—Spray stood up to his man boldly, but quickly received a floorer from the Chicken.
16.—Courage displayed on both sides. Spray put in some well directed hits; but in closing, Pearce threw him a cross-buttock.
17.—Spray attempted to rally, but received a most desperate blow upon his temple that nearly deprived him of his recollection, and which spoilt him for the remainder of the fight. The ensuing five rounds upon the part of Spray were little better than mere exhibitions of animal courage.
23.—All in favour of the Chicken. (Twenty to one, but no takers.)
24.—Spray again showed himself, but his efforts to turn the tide were futile. The Chicken smiled at his attempts; yet the Coppersmith showed considerable skill, and continued the battle to
27.—Hardly to be called fighting. Spray was down as soon as he appeared.
28.—Spray could scarcely stand, yet could not bring himself to say “No.” He put up his hands and endeavoured to face his opponent. It was all up: the Chicken hit him as he liked, and finally knocked him off his legs.
29 and last.—Spray stood up, but only to exhibit the spectacle of a game man struggling against fate. Pearce put in a thrust rather than a blow, and poor Spray was persuaded to give in. The battle lasted thirty-five minutes. Pearce immediately sprang over the ropes, laid down on the grass for a few minutes, during which he accepted a challenge from Carte, the Birmingham “champion,” for 50 guineas. The money was immediately staked, and they agreed to fight within six weeks. The Chicken then started for town in a chaise, full of spirits.
On Saturday, the 27th April, 1805, the day appointed for Carte to enter the lists with the Chicken, the parties met at Shepperton Common, near Chertsey, in Surrey. The superiority of the Chicken was so manifest, that Carte had not the least chance whatever, although six feet three and a half inches in height, and weighing upwards of fifteen stone. It would be a waste of time and paper to give the rounds in the detail. Suffice it to observe, that after a contest of thirty-five minutes, in which twenty-five rounds took place, Carte, from his ignorance of the art, received a most terrible milling; while, on the contrary, the science of the Chicken so protected him from the attacks of his adversary, that he scarcely had a mark visible.
A new, young, and formidable rival now sought the notice of Pearce. This was the afterwards celebrated John Gully,[[93]] then a young man of twenty-one years of age: as we prefer the chronicler’s account where his details are available, we quote a contemporary journalist:—