26.—It was all U.P. Tipton went in with both hands, and Paddock fell without a blow. Appeal repeated.
27 and last.—The odds were the Great Glass-case of ’51 against a cucumber-frame. The Tipton gave Master Paddock a pelt on the head, and began punching at him among his bottles and traps at the corner stake. Paddock dropped, and the Tipton, fearing to give a chance away, was about to return to his own corner, as he had several times done when up jumped the Redditch man, and rushing at the Slasher, lent him such a dig just at the back of the left ear, with his right, that down tumbled Tipton, half with astonishment, half with the blow, and, as Paddy would say, “the third half of him fell just because it was not used to stand upright.” A more palpable “foul” was never seen. The spectators jumped from their seats, and all sorts of people got into the ring. The Tipton walked towards the referee for his decision, and that functionary pronounced it “foul;” and so ended the great little fight for the Championship, in forty-two minutes, the dial showing twelve minutes after five.
Remarks.—A Scotch proverb declares—
“It’s muckle cry, and little woo,
As the de’il said, when he clipt the soo;”
and this exhibition was certainly a complete “pig-shearing” excursion. The Slasher was not only in splendid condition, but his method of fighting, long arms, and great experience, made it no match. True, he was not to blame that it was so bad a fight, for as one man can take a horse to water, but twenty can’t make him drink, so let a man be ever so willing to make a merry mill of it, he can’t do so, if his opponent won’t have it. As to Paddock, he was so manifestly over-matched, and over-rated, that he had not the shadow of a chance; and the rush that proved perilous to Bendigo—old, stale, under 12 stone, and a practiser of retreating tactics—was not only useless against the bulky, firm-standing Slasher, but was certain destruction to the assailant, from the Tipton’s tact at countering, his superior strength, and immense weight. In fact, it was “a horse to a hen” on all points.
The return to the carriages was as speedy as circumstances and awkward clayey drains and ditches would permit, but all were safely seated, the agreeable whistle of departure sounded, and the whole party delivered at the Nine Elms terminus by six o’clock; the Slasher, merry as a grig, and loudly cheered, while Paddock complained of severe injury to his shoulder, which, if serious, was certainly aggravated by his last effort to do unlawful execution. The Tipton was received at the “Castle” with a flourish of “See the conquering hero comes!” while Paddock quietly returned to the “Queen’s Head,” where he received surgical attendance; and it was officially reported that he “had injured the bone of his shoulder, and that a sling must be worn as a safeguard against the consequences of moving the joint.”
Once more the Slasher laid claim to the Championship, and requested that Bendigo would, “according to agreement (?)” hand over the belt which he had so long held, or, if he declined doing so, the Tipton “would be proud to give him the chance of retaining it, by meeting him for any sum he might like to name.” The Tipton further announced his readiness “to make a match with any man in the world from £200 to £500 a side.”
A fortnight after the annonce, a letter appeared from Bendigo, stating that he would fight for £500 a side, but so far as the belt was concerned, it had been presented to him as a gift or testimonial, and was his own property. This vaunt was quickly replied to by the Tipton, who at once sent £50 to the Editor of Bell’s Life, “to make a match on Bendy’s own terms,” whereupon the latter backed out, and never after appeared as a candidate for fistic honours.
Finding that high prices would not command the market, the Tipton issued another challenge to fight any man for £100 or £200, but for several months this lay unaccepted. At length, at the latter end of May, 1851, his former patron and backer, Johnny Broome, appeared in print, accepting the Slasher’s gage on the part of “an unknown;” Johnny’s favourite mode of exciting public curiosity in matchmaking. Spring,[21] on this occasion, acted as Perry’s best friend, and declared his readiness to “go on” upon the name of “the unknown” being declared. What was the surprise of the “knowing ones” when Johnny declared his brother Harry to be the “veiled prophet,” on whose future championship he would wager £200, while Harry, who was present, stepped smilingly forward and modestly declared his candidature. The Tipton “grinned horribly a ghastly smile,” and could hardly be persuaded as he “saw Young Harry with his beaver up,” gallantly and coolly affirming his readiness to second his brother’s words by deeds. The Tipton, as Michaelmas day (September 29) was named as “no quarter-day,” at once went into training at Hoylake, in Cheshire, under the care of Jem Wharton and Jem Ward. How they met, and how the Slasher lost the fight, without a scratch, by his own clumsy precipitancy, must be read in the Life and Career of Harry Broome, in a future chapter of this volume.