25.—Oliver napt a facer, and appeared to get weak; but his friends were so sanguine that they would not have it for a moment that anything was the matter. Abbot fought well this round; but, on going down, Oliver fell severely on him.
26.—On setting-to, Randall exclaimed, “Tom, my dear fellow, don’t lose your fame; never be licked by such a man as Abbot. Only go to work, and you must win it easy.” Abbot seemed (if a man’s thoughts can be judged) as if a doubt existed in his mind about winning it, and retreated from Oliver. The latter held him up at the ropes, and kept fibbing him till he was exhausted, and dropped him as before. No favourite actor in a theatre ever received more applause than Oliver.
27.—Abbot, on putting up his hand, laughed, and planted a body hit. A long pause, the men looking at each other. This was one of Oliver’s great faults: instead of commencing fighting, Oliver was getting away from hits. Oliver went down from a slight hit, owing to the slippery state of the ring.
28.—Abbot rushed in to mill Oliver; but he got the worst of it, and napped a severe nobber that sent him down. (Tremendous shouting.) Abbot, on being placed on his second’s knee, dropped his head, and it was thought all was over.
29.—Abbot wanted to make this round as short as he could by going down, but Oliver caught him at the ropes and administered some little punishment. (“Bravo, Tom, you behave handsome.” Ben Burn offered twenty guineas to five, but of no avail.)
30.—This was a fine fighting round; some severe exchanges took place, and Abbot, at the close of the round, planted such a tremendous right-handed hit on Oliver’s ear that he went down like a shot. It was on the spot where Painter, Neat, and “the Gas” had done so much execution. Oliver seemed stunned: he was all abroad, and was lifted from the ground like a sack of sand. Randall, Sampson, Josh. Hudson, etc., with all their vociferation, could scarcely restore him to his senses to be in readiness to the call of “time.” It is impossible to describe the agitation of the ring, not on account of their losses—for there were scarce any takers—but the sorrow felt at witnessing this lamentable tie-up of a brave man. (Five to one against Oliver.)
31.—Oliver was brought to the scratch, but no sailor three sheets in the wind was half so groggy. Abbot went up to him like a bull dog, milled him in all directions, and floored him like a log. Hogarth’s pictures were fools to the mugs of the amateurs—the brave Oliver to be sent out of the ring by a “wooden man,” as Abbot had been previously termed.
32.—The old fanciers were deeply hurt in their minds at this reverse of fortune, and not a Westminster boy, or a costermonger, but almost felt for their “wipes” to dry up their moistened “ogles;” “but who can rule the uncertain chance of war?” Oliver put up his arms to avoid the punishment, and went down once more like a log of wood. (A guinea to a shilling, but it was of no use.) Oliver was in chancery, and completely at the mercy of his opponent; he was sent down by a push.
33 and last.—Oliver was brought up, but it was useless. He would not say “No.” Abbot went in and gave Oliver the coup de grace, and he measured his length, insensible to the call of time. The fight occupied fifty-three minutes and thirty-eight seconds.
Remarks.—Not a man on the Hurst but lamented this sad finish of Tom Oliver, who once aspired to the championship. He was slow as a top, and nature deserted him. He was still brave in idea, but he did not possess strength or wind to second his wishes. Oliver treated Abbot too cheaply; in fact, he gave the battle away from this circumstance. The smashing of Oliver was all out of the question. He was no more like that Oliver who fought with Painter at Shepperton, “the Gas,” and Spring, than “I to Hercules.” It is true that the partiality of the ring towards an old favourite made them anxious that he should not lose his once high fame, and be licked by an outside boxer, and every movement that he made was construed in his favour. Oliver ought to have won; if he had gone in and fought first, he could hardly have lost. Abbot gave his head, and several opportunities occurred, but Tom played with the chance, laughed at his opponent, and held him too cheap. For the first four rounds Abbot trembled, and the name of Oliver seemed a terror to him. He, however, put in some hard hits, and had none of the worst of the fighting. Oliver was punished about the nob; while, on the contrary, his blows, although planted on the face of Abbot, did not appear to make an impression. Still the amateurs were all in favour of Oliver, as an old one, and thought he could not lose it. Abbot went down several times, and the word “cur” escaped from the lips of several of the spectators. This epithet arose more from ill-nature than the fact. Abbot, however, was frightened at first, or else he could have won it in a short time, from the bad condition of Oliver. Oliver was terribly beaten: he was some time before he recovered himself, and was able to leave the ring. Abbot then shook hands with Oliver. Sampson immediately threw up his hat in, the ring, and offered to fight Abbot for £25, £50, or £100.