19.—Against Belasco; but he held up his arms well, and, after stopping a hit or two, got down.
20.—The Jew had recovered considerably; and, although he had the worst of it, Sampson thought it prudent to fight cautiously. Belasco made play with great spirit; but, in counter-hitting, received another severe blow on his head, which sent him out of the ropes. If he had not been a truly game man when time was called he would not have paid attention to it. Three to one.
21.—The Jew resolved that “his people” should have no reason to complain. He commenced fighting, although sorely distressed. The result of the round was that Sampson received a hit, and went down on his knees. (“Bravo, Belasco, you are a game fellow,” from Tom Owen, “but you are overmatched.”)
22.—The finish of this round was in favour of Belasco, and he fibbed Sampson down. (“It is anybody’s battle, now,” cried an old sportsman; “a good hit would decide it either way.” “I’ll lay forty to ten,” said Tom Oliver, “Sampson wins!” “Stake,” said a gentleman from Houndsditch, “and I will take it.” Oliver didn’t.)
23.—The face of Belasco was piteous, and his right eye swelled prodigiously; but he came to the scratch determined to dispute every inch of ground while a chance remained. “A little one for Mother Melsom,” said Josh, “and the battle is at an end.” Sampson saw that conquest was within his grasp, and he was determined to win it without risk. He accordingly let Belasco commence fighting before he offered to return. The Jew went down from a straight blow, quite exhausted. (“Take the brave fellow away; he ought not to be suffered to come again.” “I am not licked yet,” said Belasco.)
24, and last.—It was evident the battle must be soon over, but Belasco answered the call of time like a man. The Jew was too distressed to protect himself with his usual skill, and he received a hit in the middle of his face that floored him slap on his back. He was picked up by his seconds, but in a state of stupor. When the half-minute had elapsed Belasco remained insensible, and Sampson was declared the winner. It was over in forty-two minutes.
Remarks.—Sampson retired from the contest with very trifling marks upon his face. He is altogether an improved man; his frame is set, and his fighting eminently superior to the style he exhibited in his battles with Martin, Gybletts, and Abbott. We think that he ought to have won the last-named fight. Nevertheless, it confers honour upon his milling talents to conquer so accomplished a boxer as Belasco proved himself to be. To speak of the Jew as he deserves, or of one brave man that has surrendered to another, it is thus: It is true Belasco has been defeated, but he stands higher in the estimation of his friends than ever; let no more slurs be thrown upon him as to “a white feather”! He had to contend against height, length, weight, and youth, added to which Sampson was also a good fighter and a high-couraged man. He has not disgraced “his people.” The Jew was brought into the ring in spirited style, but we applaud most the feeling manner in which he was supported out of it. Every attention that humanity could suggest was paid to Belasco. A medical gentleman, of his own persuasion, brought down from London solely for that purpose, had the care of him. We could, if necessary, mention a list of Israelites who were most assiduous on this occasion, but we feel assured the sporting world will appreciate such feeling, generosity, and gentlemanly conduct. The weight of Sampson was said to be twelve stone three pounds; his height, five feet ten-and-a-half inches—Belasco, in his clothes, eleven stone six pounds; his height, five feet seven inches. To the credit of both men it may be stated that they now shook hands and became friends; Belasco, as we shall see, becoming a zealous second to Sampson on several important occasions.
Phil now flew at high game. He challenged Jem Ward, then the most promising of the candidates for the Championship. Jem, nothing loth, accommodated him for £100 a-side, and on Monday, June 21st, 1824, gave Mr. Sampson an indisputable thrashing in fifty minutes, as chronicled in the memoir of Ward (ante, p. 206).
One of the peculiarities of Sampson, which he shared with the renowned Blucher, was that of “not knowing when he was beaten.” He had further the remarkable faculty of talking and writing other people over to his own opinion. Thus, in December of the same year, 1824, he got himself backed a second time against Jem Ward, and on this occasion it took “the Black Diamond” only thirty-seven minutes and a half to finally floor “the strong man,” all the circumstances of which will be found fully written in the book of “Pugilistica,” in the Life of Ward (ante, p. 207), to which we beg to refer the reader.
Phil’s “vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps the lists and falls on the other side,” had now a temporary check, and “My Uncle Ben,” who was looking out for a job for his “Nevvy,” Jem Burn, proposed a battle with Sampson for £50 a-side. After much ink-spilling the articles were formulated, and Tuesday, June 22nd, 1825, fixed. Mr. Jackson named Harpenden Common, near St. Albans, and thither, on the day appointed, the Fancy repaired. Unfortunately on the previous evening a whisper had gone forth that it was to be a squared fight, in consequence of which unfounded rumour lots of gents made up their minds to turn their backs upon the thing altogether. Burn, of course, as he was to win, and nothing else, according to “the man in the street,” was backed at six to four, seven to four, and sooner than go without a bet those wiseacres (a wonderfully numerous class at all times) who thought they were in possession of the secret laid two to one. A meddlesome man in office, “dressed in a little brief authority,” also turned up, and forbade the mill taking place on the old spot at No Man’s Land. The Fancy, always ready to obey the mandates of the authorities, accordingly toddled on a few miles farther, and the ring was formed at Shere Mere, in Bedfordshire. Sampson declared he had been ill-treated by these sinister reports, and hoped his conduct would soon give the lie to his enemies. Jem Burn, at one o’clock, attended by Randall and Uncle Ben, threw his hat into the Ring, and was received with loud cheers. Sampson soon followed, and planted his topper within the ropes, waited upon by Josh Hudson and Rough Robin.