Round 1.—The attitude of Nat was by far the more artistic, though that of the Lincolnshire man was by no means awkward or constrained; yet he held his arms too close and across to deliver at a well-judged distance; accordingly, after a little sparring just to feel his way, Nat popped in a couple of such sharp facers, jumping back from the return, that the question of “first blood” was settled almost in the first hit, the crimson fluid trickling from Gutteridge’s left optic. The Lincoln man, who was evidently no flincher, went in ding-dong, Langham retreating perforce from his determined rush, but delivering two or three cutting left-handers on his assailant’s frontispiece before he went down at the ropes on the saving suit.
2.—Nat came up cool as a cucumber, with no visible marks of hitting save a red bump on his left cheek-bone, and a slight flush of colour which rather improved his complexion. Gutteridge, on the contrary, had a gaping cut over the right eye, a prominent blue mouse under the left optic, and his teeth were tinged from his cut lip. He rattled in undismayed, but got little by the motion, the balance of the exchanges being all in favour of Leicester. In a close, however, he gripped Master Nat, and embracing him, showed his superior strength by forcing him down and falling on him heavily. (Cheering for Gutteridge.)
3.—Nat dodging in, and then retreating, to get his man to follow. Gutteridge, by advice of his seconds, refusing to do so, Nat woke him up by twice visiting his left eye clean over his guard, whereupon Gutteridge, stung by these long shots, rushed to close quarters, and after taking a prop or two fought Nat down in his own corner. (The Lincoln man’s friends in high glee.)
4 to 10.—Langham seemed steady and cool, and none the worse for Mr. Gutteridge’s lunges, and the rapid rallies which followed at close quarters. Not so Gutteridge, whose portrait was gradually painted in crimson by a master-hand. Though there was active fighting on both sides, there was a somewhat tedious similarity in the rounds, Langham improving his lead in every bout, and Gutteridge failing in most cases, in clenching his adversary for the throw.
From the 11th to the 50th round Gutteridge showed himself dangerous, and with unflinching game every now and then raised the hopes of his partisans by remaining on his legs after severe exchanges of blows, then walking to his corner to seat himself on his second’s knee, while Nat, husbanding his strength, was tenderly carried, often sedan fashion, by his careful attendants to his appointed resting-place.
In the 51st round, to the surprise of all, Langham seemed to recover second wind; perceiving the shaky state of his brave opponent, he assumed the offensive, and delivered half a dozen hits left and right at arm’s length, the last of which sent down Gutteridge in his corner all of a heap; the first fair knock down. From this point the rounds became short, poor Gutteridge gradually losing almost every glimpse of daylight, coming up round after round until the 93rd, when, perceiving the last chance of his man had vanished, Hodgkiss threw up the sponge in Gutteridge’s corner in token of defeat, and Nat was hailed the victor of the day, after a severe contest of one hour and twenty-five minutes of active and actual fighting; Langham’s superiority as a boxer being evident from first to last.
At the giving up of the stakes at Caunt’s on the following Thursday, Angelo, of Windsor, was backed against Langham for £50 a side, but the match went off, Gutteridge’s backer posting a small deposit for a second encounter, which was covered on the part of Langham, who afterwards received forfeit, the Lincolnshire friends of the former considering the first judgment of the referee not likely to be reversed on a new trial.
William Sparkes, a hardy Australian, having fought his way to fame at the Antipodes, and made the voyage to the Old Country, in further search of “the bubble reputation,” was introduced in the early part of 1847 to the London Ring, under the patronage of Johnny Broome, and that ’cute observer at once commended him to his Corinthian visitors, as “just the sort of man to polish off Master Nat,” who, in the estimate of Johnny, “was dangerously clever, but had no constitution.” Sparkes, at this time, was certainly a fine, hardy specimen of a “corn-stalk” as could be seen in a summer’s day. Twenty-six years of age, firmly put together, round-limbed, muscular, and active, and not only bringing with him a belt as a pugilist, but also a trophy won by his fleetness of foot as a pedestrian “champion,” he was certainly a “representative man,” so far as Australian prowess was in question. With him, then, Langham was matched, as champion of the honour of the Old Country, for £50 a side, and Tuesday, May 4th, 1847, was fixed for the final settlement of the question.
On that day, at an early hour, the “Nymph” being chartered for the voyage, the party embarked from the now-abolished Hungerford Market Pier, and thence dropped down to Blackwall, where, on the Brunswick Pier, a goodly muster of the Fancy had assembled, and where, also, a coal-tug or two, laden with “Cheapside” customers, were in waiting to follow in the wake of the Fancy “flag-ship.” From some petty jealousy, into the cause of which we do not care to inquire, Tom Spring, Peter Crawley, and a group of Corinthians here shipped themselves on board the regular Gravesend passenger-boat, instead of taking tickets by the chartered “Fancy” craft. Johnny Broome, who was in command, suppressed any mortification he might have felt, but did not the less determine to balance accounts with the Separatists, as the sequel will show. The “Nymph” cast off from the Blackwall Pier, and led the way towards Charlton, where Langham was taken on board, having been trained by Robinson (“Caunt’s Pet”), near Dartford; the Australian had already been shipped at Hungerford. While we lay-to off Charlton Pier, the Gravesend boat, with the two crowded tugs in attendance, pursued their downward course. Soon after, as the “Nymph,” at half-speed, was nearing Erith, Johnny Broome called “a council of war,” wherein he announced his resolution to disappoint those who had shown such a want of that unanimity which we had so often publicly advocated on these occasions. He proposed that we should “about ship,” and make a return voyage, leaving the “secessionists,” including the “tuggites” and the Gravesend passengers, to the enjoyment of their excursion, without the prospect of seeing the day’s mill, from the appointed and legitimate mode of being present at which they had thus wilfully disentitled themselves. His arguments were unanswerable. The bow of the “Nymph” was quickly put up stream, the tide was flowing, and back we went; indeed, almost before the downward voyagers were aware of our change of course, we were steaming through the Pool, and thence pursued our way, never stopping until Nine Elms Pier was reached. There the men and their friends disembarked, and, availing themselves of a train by the South Western Railway, proceeded to Woking Common. On arriving, the Commissary and assistants quickly prepared a ring, on the ground where Barnash and Martin fought a fortnight previous; and in half an hour, the party having refreshed themselves meantime at a neighbouring hostelrie, a select party of about one hundred spectators surrounded the roped enclosure, heartily laughing at “the sell” practised upon the “Secesh,” who had cut themselves off by their own want of esprit du corps from witnessing the fight. Among the disappointed were some “knowing ones,” who, in those days of “pigeon expresses,” had carried down their feathered messengers, with the view of conveying to their London confederates the first news of the battle and its result.
At half-past two o’clock the combatants entered the lists; Langham esquired by D’Orsay Turner and Barnash, Sparkes seconded by Sam Simmonds (of Birmingham) and Joe Rowe. The “sestette” shook hands in a friendly manner, and the men proceeded to their toilettes, while umpires and a referee were chosen. All preliminaries being adjusted, and the colours (white with a scarlet border for Sparkes, and a blue birdseye for Langham) knotted to the stake, the men toed the scratch for