7.—This round was “portrait-painting” with a vengeance. A rally took place, in which Davis received a severe cut over the left eye, and was floored again. (Any odds. “Feathers for a trifle.”)
8 and last.—Such fighting as was seen in the above seven rounds, and hitting in the right places, must always produce short fights. Davis exerted himself in returning hit for hit, till another floorer put an end to the battle. On time being called, Davis observed to his second, “that he could not stand.” It was all over in twelve minutes.
Remarks.—Such a cutting-up had not been witnessed for a long time. In the exultation of the moment the friends of Inglis challenged Dick Curtis. Inglis was about ten stone. Dick replied he would not refuse the challenge. Davis was carried out of the ring. He was too stale for a young opponent.
Inglis, from his brave conduct in the fight with Davis, was next matched against George Curtis, the brother of the Pet, for £50 a-side.
Moulsey Hurst, on Tuesday, August 12, 1823, was again the scene of attraction. The umpires and referee were chosen, and, at one o’clock, George Curtis threw his hat into the ring, attended by Josh. Hudson and Harry Holt. Inglis, followed by Paddington Jones and Neale, also threw up his beaver. He was the favourite at five to four.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—Curtis exhibited much activity on his pins, and, on peeling, displayed a more muscular frame than had been anticipated. His face was pale, his nob looked like a milling one, and altogether had a great resemblance to that of the Pet. Inglis was as well as he could be—a wiry strong young man, the taller of the two, and appeared to stand over his opponent. The attitudes of the men on setting-to were interesting. Inglis was in no hurry to proceed to blows; and Curtis, as a novice, deliberated before he went to work. George made an attempt with his left hand, but it told slightly. This movement led to an exchange of hits, yet nothing was the matter. A long pause. Curtis retreated from some heavy blows; Inglis, however, planted a severe nobber. “I’ll bet £100 to a tizzy,” said Paddington Jones, “it’s as right as the day; we shall win the fight.” “Walker! hookey!” replied Josh. The left hand of George told smartly on Inglis’s body; and, after some cut-and-come-again work at the ropes, in struggling for the throw, both went down, Curtis undermost. (Six and seven to four on Inglis.)
2.—The left eve of Curtis was winking. Inglis, on the alert, planted a hit; an exchange of blows. Curtis again felt for his adversary’s body. Inglis missed a well-meant blow for his opponent’s nob; he, however, tried it again, but George stopped him with great skill. (“Bravo, Georgy!” from his pals.) A pause. After some little time, both combatants made themselves up to do mischief, and, on getting within each other’s reach, they let fly, which produced the claret. (“First blood,” exclaimed Josh. and Jones at the same instant. “Upon my honour, it appeared first on your side,” said Josh., “and I hope you will not dispute the honour of the John Bull fighter, my Tommy!” It was rather a doubtful point at the moment.) Curtis went down weak.
3.—Inglis, to the astonishment of the spectators, did not fight first, and a long pause ensued. Curtis commenced milling on the retreat, and the feather-bed hero napped three nasty ones on his index. Another stand-still for a minute, looking at each other. Inglis stopped well, when the combatants got into a sharp rally at the ropes. In struggling for the throw, Inglis got his opponent upon the ropes; and, in this situation, Curtis received pepper until he went down exhausted. (“It’s all over. I’ll bet ten to one that Curtis can’t fight two more rounds,” was repeated by the betting men round the ring.)
4.—The left eye of George was nearly closed; but when time was called he showed himself at the scratch. Although the advantage was now decidedly in Inglis’s favour he did not commence fighting; and Curtis, recovering his wind, made play with his left hand, and had none the worst of it. This was altogether a milling round. Curtis threw his opponent. (Thunders of applause from the Bermondsey boys.)