90.—It was clear that this was the last flickering effort. Poulson came up weak and shaky, and, on Paddock letting go his left, fell.
91 to 102 and last.—It was clearly all over with the gallant Harry. Paddock, by the advice of his seconds, kept away from his man, and just popped in a hit when he saw an opening, whereon Poulson fell. Noon vainly urged him to give in, until, in the 102nd round, his seconds and several of his backers, seeing the hopelessness as well as danger of prolonging the contest, threw up the sponge, and Paddock was declared the winner, after a desperate battle of two hours and thirty-two minutes.
Remarks.—Few remarks will suffice upon this game and manly encounter. Experienced ring-goers tell us that second fights, still more third battles, between the same men are, as a rule, unsatisfactory. This was indeed an exception to that rule. It was, in courage, active work, and endurance, the best fight between big ones for many a day past. Poulson, for a man pronounced “stale” by many, is an extraordinary quick and punishing hitter, but he depends too much on his right, and thus throws open his face to the blows of a superior tactician. With any man not more skilful than himself he must yet prove the victor, but not even his game and gluttony can enable him to conquer a clever two-handed boxer possessed of resolution and skill like Tom Paddock. We must give praise to Jerry Noon for his humanity in throwing up the sponge when he did, and this we the more insist on as we know that he has been most shamefully censured and even abused, since the affair, by persons who ought to know better, and who have even brought to us their complaints of what they call his “unauthorised giving in against the wish of Poulson himself.” No impartial spectator can support such an argument for a moment, and the stakes were accordingly given up, with the approbation of the referee, despite a notice served upon the stakeholder.
Paddock, having thus retrieved his first defeat by the hardy Harry Poulson, by a second victory, was soon after called to the field by his old opponent Aaron Jones, who now sent forth his cartel from the domicile of Jem Burn, who had moved his head-quarters westward from Windmill Street to the erewhile domus of Johnny Broome, the “Rising Sun,” in Air Street, Piccadilly. Paddock, as before, was backed from Alec Keene’s, the “Three Tuns,” in Moor Street. The stakes, £100 a side, were duly made good, and the 18th of July, 1854, saw both parties embarked on board “The Waterman, No. 7,” which was the craft chartered to convey the men and the managers to the battle-field. On this occasion Paddock trained at Brighton, under the supervision of Alec Keene; Aaron first at Newbridge, in Ireland, near the Curragh, and later on at Shrewsbury, under the auspices of some distinguished military officers, and the mentorship of Jerry Noon. “The loquacious” Jerry won the toss for choice of corners, and took the corner with Jones’s back to the sun. Paddock, after an ineffectual attempt to lay an even “tenner” with his adversary, offered Jones 2 to 1, but there being no response, Tom, much disappointed, replaced the flimsy in his pocket. All being in readiness, and rumours of Jones’s inferior condition spread about the ring, offers to lay 2 to 1 on Paddock were taken to some amount. The colours were tied to the stakes, the men shook hands, and at ten minutes to one began
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—On assuming the perpendicular it was evident that Jones was the taller and more symmetrical man. He was, despite rumour, in excellent condition. There was a pleasing smile of confidence and an ease in his attitude that favourably impressed the spectators; in short, he looked a model of a 12 stone man. Tom, the rough-and-ready, seemed rather lighter than usual—he was declared to be no more than 11st. 9lbs.—but he still looked rounder, stronger, and tougher than his fairer skinned opponent. Paddock lost no time in sparring but went straight in, catching Jones on the forehead, but getting a smack in return on the proboscis from Jones, who said, smilingly, “You had it there!” Paddock replied by making another dash, and landing on Aaron’s cheek, who retorted on the side of Tom’s head. Some rather wild exchanges followed, left and right, in which each displayed more haste than judgment; they then broke away. Paddock twice made his left on Jones’s cheek, leaving marks of his handiwork; on trying a third time, Jones countered him sharply on the nose, then closed, and both rolled over, Paddock undermost.
2.—Paddock let go his left and reached Jones’s ear, another attempt was too high, and a third was cleverly stopped. Paddock bored in, when Jones met him with a sounding spank on the left eye that made Tom “see fireworks.” Paddock forced the fighting, but after a rally, in which no harm was done, Jones gripped Paddock and threw him in good style, falling on him. (Applause from the “Rising Sun.”)
3.—Jones came up all smiles, but Paddock did not give him a chance of leading off, for he rattled in left and right, but was cleverly stopped. Tom afterwards succeeded in landing on Aaron’s ribs, but sent his left over Jones’s shoulder. He then bored in, but Jones jumped back quickly, caught Paddock in his arms, and again threw him neatly, Jones being evidently the better wrestler.
4.—Paddock made his left hand and then his right, the latter heavily, on Aaron’s left optic. A ding-dong rally ensued, in which Jones drew “first blood” from Tom’s smelling organ. The men closed, and some severe fighting took place at close quarters, Jones getting it on the forehead and ear, Paddock on the ribs. Both down.
5.—Jones’s left peeper in mourning from Paddock’s one, two, in the previous round. Paddock grinned derisively, and at once went to work, but was stopped cleverly. Jones returned with both hands, dropping on to Tom’s nose and left cheek. Paddock looked vexed, and went in with both hands, when Jones was down first.