10.—Posh made a desperate attempt to lead off, but Mace stopped him artistically, and caught him a smasher on the proboscis for his temerity; Posh in turn retreated, when Mace followed him. Price, to avoid a heavy right-hander, ducked his head, and in doing so caught his foot in the grass and fell.
11th and last.—The combatants came up readily. The Brum seemed determined upon a last effort to stem the tide, and the Norwich man at once accepted the attack. The exchanges were effective and sharp, and while the men were thus fighting, Mace hit his man a terrific blow on the left arm, which caused Price to drop his hand, and stagger to his corner. A swelling on the fore arm was instantly visible, and it was stated that the small bone of the limb was fractured. Sam Simmonds stepped forward and declared that his man was disabled, and he would not permit the game fellow (who had risen to his feet to renew the contest) to fight any longer. The sponge was accordingly thrown up, and Mace hailed the winner, the battle having lasted exactly 17 minutes.
Remarks.—We do not remember to have seen such severe and cutting punishment administered in so short a time in any battle of modern times. Mace, in this contest, not only justified the high opinion of his scientific quality which we always entertained, but displayed a steady resolution for which none had given him credit. True, he was never in danger of losing the fight, and as round succeeded round his superiority became more manifest. He fought throughout with wonderful quickness; and that his hitting was as hard as it was precise poor Posh’s battered mug and bruised carcase fully testified. Of the gallant Brum, we can only say he was out-classed, out-generalled, stopped, foiled, and punished at all points; and, as he did all that became a man, he deserves the respect of all who admire pluck and resolution; and it should not be forgotten that at last his defeat was due to an unfortunate and disabling accident, not to a surrender. The £100 was given over to Mace on the Tuesday following, at Bob Brettle’s “White Lion,” Digbeth.
Mace was now a publican, hanging out his sign at the Swan Inn, Swan Lane, Norwich, and exhibiting his talents almost nightly at the “Baronial Hall,” West End, Norwich. In the early months of 1859 we read, “Jem Mace, wishing to try his hand once again in the London P.R., will fight any man at 10st. 7lbs., in four months from the first deposit, for £100.” This was answered by Job Cobley; but for a time the friends of the “Elastic Potboy” hung back, and George Crockett offered himself at 10st. This weight was simply preposterous as a limit for Mace. Dan Collins, too, Sayers’s first opponent, proposed; but, doubtless fortunately for himself and friends, the match went off upon a question of amount of stakes.
At length in November, 1859, Bob Travers (then known as “Langham’s Black”) responded to Mace’s cartel, and articles were drawn to fight on the 21st of February, 1860, for £100 a side.
The character and antecedents of Travers left no doubt in the minds of the patrons of pugilism that Massa Bob would fully test the stuff of which Jem Mace was really composed. With the exception of a solitary defeat by Job Cobley, Travers’s reputation had been well won. In his first battle, October 29th, 1855, he beat Geo. Baker, in two rings (after an adjournment from October 19th) in twenty-three minutes, for £25 a side, at Tilbury. In February, 1856, he conquered Jesse Hatton, at Combe Bottom, in 76 minutes, during which 39 hard rounds were fought. George Crockett succumbed to his arm at Egham, in 37 rounds, occupying 114 minutes, on May 13 in the same year, in which also (he was fighting too often) he suffered his first defeat by Job Cobley, after a tremendous battle of 3 hours and 27 minutes, in which 110 rounds were fought. In January, 1857, he beat Cleghorn for £100 a side, on the Medway, in 36 rounds, 87 minutes, and in May 13th of the same year defeated the accomplished Bill Hayes, in 3¾ hours (!), the stakes being £100 a side. Beaten by Bob Brettle (Travers fell without a blow), January 27, 1858, he received a forfeit of £90 from Johnny Walker, who did not show, on the 25th May, 1858; and in April, 1859, beat the game and unflinching Mike Madden in 45 rounds, 97 minutes, at Ashford, Kent; and this brings us to his present engagement.
With such a deed-roll Travers’s chance was booked as a certainty by the circle at the “Cambrian,” where Massa Ebony was a “bright, particular star,” especially as many persisted in asserting the visible “white feather” in Mace’s plumage.
The men injudiciously delayed their departure from town until nine o’clock, and after a long journey by rail much time was lost before the excursionists got on board the “City of Rochester” steamer. John Heenan, the Benicia Boy, was among the voyagers, attended by Jack Macdonald, and was, as may be imagined, “the observed of all observers.” After a long water trip a debarkation was attempted in Essex, on an oft-visited spot, and there the ring was pitched, and all in readiness, when the police came in sight, and all were compelled to go on board again. After another steam trip of five miles a landing was effected in Kent. Travers, who won the toss for choice of corners, had for seconds Jerry Noon, and, to the mystification of many, Jem’s whilom patron Bob Brettle, with whom a feud had arisen. Bos Tyler and Jack Hicks attended upon Mace. Travers at the opening was an immense favourite, 2 to 1 being offered on him. It was five minutes to five o’clock when the men’s toilettes were completed and they stood up for
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—As they faced each other there could be no doubt that the condition of the combatants was faultless. Travers’s skin shone with an unmistakable lustre, resembling a dark piece of fine old Spanish mahogany. His massive and deep chest and broad lines displayed a grand development of muscularity, denoting the possession of exceptional strength. The only circumstance that detracted from his general appearance was his legs, and the looseness with which, like most niggers, he was put together. He looked all over smiles and grins, and as if perfectly confident he must be the winner. Mace, possessing the superiority in height and reach, with his keen eye, symmetrical frame, and graceful freedom of attitude, looked from head to foot an athlete to whom, if the heart were there, anything might be possible. His friends declared that he had “screwed his courage to the sticking place, and could not fail,” and the event proved their trust to be well grounded. Travers, after a little manœuvring round the ring, tried to lead off with the left, but was short. Mace was awake, and as Bob jumped back, Mace followed him, and Bob again hitting out, Mace nailed him with the left on the cheek, and then with the right on the left peeper. In the close, after a smart dose of fibbing, they struggled for the fall, when Mace threw Bob, but not cleverly. There was an attempt to claim first blood for Mace, but it was not admitted.