THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—The interesting moment had now arrived, all doubts and fears as to a fight were at an end, and the ability of Spring to obtain the Championship was about to be put to the test. Hands were crossed and shaken, in token that no animosity existed. To describe the intense interest of this vast assemblage is impossible. Spring was fine as a star, strong as an ox, light and active as a deer, and confident as a lion. His condition was tip-top; and in truth, could not be better; his weight thirteen stone, three pounds. Neat was equally an object of admiration; his partisans were highly delighted with his appearance, and his frame was pronounced to have fully answered the good effects of training. Indeed, two finer young men could not have been opposed to each other, or a more equal match made: Neat having slightly the advantage in weight over his rival. Spring, cool, collected, firm, and confident, appeared to meet his renowned and formidable opponent, who had obtained so much fame by his conquest over the terrific Gas-light Man. Neat, equally confident—nay, more so, if his countenance bespoke his mind—thought it presumption for any boxer on the list to dispute his right to the title of Champion. A pause of two minutes occurred in looking at each other—dodging about for two minutes longer—Spring then let fly with his left hand, but no mischief done. Neat missed the body of his opponent with his right hand. Another long pause. Neat aimed a tremendous blow with his right, which Spring stopped in great style. (Applause from all parts of the ring.) A pause. Neat again attempted his favourite slaughtering hit, which Spring parried, smiling and nodding at his opponent. (Loud shouts of approbation from the spectators.) Spring put down his hands, but Neat did not avail himself of the chance. Spring immediately made himself up in one of the finest attitudes for administering punishment ever witnessed, and endeavoured to plant a hit with his right hand, which Neat stopped in the most scientific manner. (The Bristolians shouting in turn, “Bravo, Neat!” in fact applause from all parts of the ring.) Neat missed the body of Spring with his left. Spring now went to work, some blows were exchanged, but Spring’s hits were so severe that Neat turned round. (“What do you think of that ’ere for light-hitting?” a Cockney cove observed to a Bristol man who sat close to him.) They followed each other over the ring, when Spring, in retreating from some well-meant heavy blows, got into a corner close against the stake, feeling with his heel whereabouts he was situated; (“Now’s the time,” cried Tom Belcher;) but the defensive position of Spring was so excellent that he was not to be got at without great danger, which Neat perceiving did not get near enough to do anything like execution. Spring fought his way out à la Randall; a close ensued, when Neat had nearly got Spring off his legs; but in struggling for the throw, Spring, with the utmost agility, turned Neat over in his arms and sent him on the ground, falling upon him. Between nine and ten minutes had elapsed. (The chaff-cutters from the Long Town were now roaring with delight—“Spring for ever—for anything—he can fight for a day and a night into the bargain.”) Seven to four on Herefordshire.
2.—The superiority displayed by Spring in the preceding round rather alarmed the backers of Neat. They did not expect it. The “lady’s-maid fighter,” as he had been libelled—the “china-man,” as he had been designated—the “light tapper,” as he had been termed—thus to set at defiance the slaughtering hitter Neat; nay more, to turn the scales and take the lead of him, operated severely on their feelings. A long pause occurred. Spring stood as firm as a rock, Neat unable to get at him; he, however, endeavoured to plant a hit, but it fell short. Both men now made themselves up for mischief, and counter-hits followed. Spring’s right went in so severely over Neat’s eye that the claret followed instantly. Spring exclaimed, “First blood, Neat.” This touch confused the Bristol hero a little; but he tried to give his opponent a heavy blow, which fell short. Spring, in return, gave him so sharp a nobber, that Neat looked round, and was nearly going down.—(Disapprobation.) The latter collected himself, and showed fight, when Spring fought his way into a close, fibbed Neat with the utmost ease, and sent him down. (The applause was like the roar of artillery. Two to one, and “Neat has no chance—it’s all up with him.” Spring, while sitting on his second’s knee, observed to Painter, smiling, “It is as right as the day; I would not take £100 to £1, and stand it—he can’t hit me in a week.”)
3.—The only chance now left to save a transfer of the Bristolians’ coin to the Metropolitan pockets, it would seem, was one of those silencing hits by which Neat had acquired his milling fame, so as to spoil Spring’s science, reduce his confidence, and take the fight out of him. All the backers of Neat were on the gaze in anxious expectation to see the “slogger” put in, which was to relieve their fears, and produce a change in their favour. Shyness on both sides. Spring endeavoured to plant a heavy right-handed hit, which Neat stopped cleverly. (Great applause, and “Well done, Neat.”) The latter smiled at this success, and Spring observed, “Well stopped!” Rather a long pause. The toes of the combatants were close together, and Spring not to be gammoned off his guard. Some blows were at length exchanged, and Spring received so heavy a hit on his ribs, that his face for the instant bespoke great pain, and his arms dropped a little; but, in closing, Spring had decidedly the advantage; and, in going down, Neat was undermost. (The Springites were now as gay as larks, offering to back their man to any amount.)
4.—Neat, instead of going up and fighting at the head of his opponent, where at least, he might have had a chance of planting some of his tremendous blows, showed no signs of going in to fight. Standing off to a superior, fine scienced boxer like Spring, almost reduced it to a certainty, that in the event he must be beaten. In his character as a heavy-hitting pugilist his strategy ought to have been to smash his shifty opponent. He could not get an opening at his length to put in any effective blows; in fact, he could not break through the guard of Spring. Neat endeavoured to plant a severe blow, which Spring stopped with the utmost ease. (Great applause; and “You’ll break his heart, Tom, if you go on in that way.”) Neat missed the body of Spring with his left hand. (Laughing, and “It’s of no use” from the crowd.) A short rally near the ropes, in which Spring had the best of it, and, in struggling for the throw, Neat experienced a tremendous fall, added to the whole weight of Spring on his body. (Shouting like thunder from thirty thousand persons.)
5.—Neat informed Belcher (while sitting on Harmer’s knee) that his arm was broken; it was, however, previously evident to every disinterested spectator, that Neat had not a shadow of chance. Neat made another stop; some blows were exchanged, and a slight rally took place; Neat broke away, the latter gave Spring a slight hit, and was going down, but he resumed his attitude. (Disapprobation.) Spring, to make all safe, was in no hurry to go to work; another pause ensued. Neat, as he was in the act of falling, received a hit, when Spring added another one on his back. (The umpires called out to Belcher, and told him “It was a stand-up fight; and Neat must take care what he was about.” “I assure you, gentlemen,” replied Mr. Jackson, “Neat received a blow.” Here Martin offered, in a very loud manner, that he would bet £1,000 to £100 on Spring. During this round, Belcher came to the side of the ropes, and in a low tone of voice told Mr. Jackson, that Neat’s arm was “fractured.” “I perceive it,” replied Mr. J., “but I shall not notice it to the other side.”)
6.—Neat hit short at Spring’s body with his left hand; holding his right in a very different position from the mode when the battle commenced. The Bristol hero was piping, and betraying symptoms of great distress. Neat, however, gave a bodier to his opponent and also made a good stop; but in a rally he received several blows, and ultimately went down.
7.—Spring was as fresh as if he had not been fighting; and, although it was now a guinea to a shilling, and no chance of losing, yet Spring was as careful as if he had had a giant before him. The latter got away from a blow. (“We can fight for a week in that manner,” said Belcher. “Yes,” replied Painter; “but we have got the general.” Neat received a severe hit on his head, and fell down on his knees. The shouts of joy from the partisans of Spring, and roars of approbation from the spectators in general beggared description.)
8th and last.—Neat endeavoured to plant a heavy blow on the body of Spring, but the latter jumped away as light as a cork. A pause. Spring was satisfied he had won the battle. Spring put in a hit on Neat’s face; and when the latter returned, he again got away. In an exchange of blows, Neat was hit down. When time was called Neat got up and shook hands with Spring, and said his arm was broken, and he could not fight any more. The battle was at an end in thirty-seven minutes.
Remarks.—We must admit that, as championship contests, there was certainly a different colouring visible in the fights between Gully and Gregson, and Cribb and Molineaux; to witness two big ones opposed to each other for upwards of half an hour, and no mischief done, was not likely to give satisfaction to the old-fashioned admirers of milling. But the torrent of opinion was so strong in favour of Neat, both in Bristol and London, on account of his tremendous hitting, as to carry away like a flood all kind of calculation on the subject. Spring was to have been smashed, and nothing else but smashed. One hit was to have spoilt the science of Spring: two were to have taken the fight completely out of him; and the third to have operated as a coup de grace. Then why did not Neat smash Spring, as he did the Gas? We will endeavour to answer the question for the fallen Neat. Because he had a man of his own size and weight, a boxer of superior talent to himself, pitted against him: one that was armed at all points, and not to be diverted or frightened from his purpose. His blows were not only stopped, but all his efforts to break through the guard of his antagonist were rendered of no avail. Hence it was that the fighting of Neat appeared so defective in the eyes of his friends and backers. He was out-generalled; and the fine fighting of Spring laughed to scorn all the much-talked-of tremendous hitting of his opponent. In truth, Neat could not plant a single effective hit. In the fourth round, Neat asserted his arm received a serious injury, and one of the small bones was broken; but we have no hesitation in asserting, that Spring had won the battle before it occurred. Spring triumphantly disproved the current libel on his character, that “he could not make a dent in a pound of butter.” To give punishment, and to avoid being hit, is deemed the triumph of the art of boxing. Randall was distinguished for this peculiar trait in all his battles, Spring adopted the same mode, and by so doing he did not disgrace his character as a boxer: on the contrary, he showed himself a safe man to back, and reduced success to a certainty. Spring called on Neat after the battle, whom he found in bed, and his arm put to rights by a surgeon. The latter said, “I am not beaten, but I lost the battle by the accident.” Spring generously made Neat a present of ten pounds. Spring arrived in town on Wednesday night, but he did not sport the colours of his adversary until after he had quitted the town of Andover, and received the shouts and smiles attendant on victory from the populace in all the towns through which he passed. He had a slight black mark on his eye, and his arm in a sling, one of the bones of his right hand having received an injury.