We have already noted the fact of the disruption of friendly relations between Mace and his quondam conqueror and subsequent friend and patron Bob Brettle. In the early months of 1859 this ill-feeling took the form of a challenge from Mace to Brettle, and some haggling between the disputants on minor details and conditions. Mace’s last two exhibitions had so far restored the much-shaken confidence of his admirers as to satisfy them, however otherwise inexplicable his “in and out running” might be, that, at his weight, none could “live with him,” when he really meant “to stay.” So they listened to his solicitation to give him a second trial “with the only man who had ever beaten him, and that by a fluke”(?). In reply to Jem’s challenge for £100 Brettle replied that being now a “bung” in a good way of business it would not pay him to train under £200. Holywell Lane and Club Row, and a “voice from Norwich” preferred a bigger stake, so the prelims. were soon settled. The 19th September, 1860, was named as the day, and Oxfordshire, as (half-way between London and Birmingham) the locus in quo. Accordingly, the London division took their departure from Euston Square, meeting Brettle and Co. at Wallingford Road; there all alighted, and, under the pilotage of a local amateur, a charming spot was selected. Many of the older Ring-goers, however, expressed doubts as to the judiciousness of the selection, and foreboded an interruption, which came all too soon. No time, therefore, was lost, and at a few minutes before noon the men shook hands, and began.
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—As the men toed the scratch it was clear to all that they were both all that could be wished in point of condition. Mace had three or four pounds’ advantage in weight, and also a trifle in height and length. Brettle, who looked rounder, bore a smile of self-satisfaction on his good-natured mug, and as he swung his arms in careless fashion, and raised his hands, he nodded to a friend or two, as if quite assured of the result. Brettle tried to lead off, but Mace stopped him coolly, and tried a return, which was prettily warded off by Brettle, who shifted ground. Bob offered again, but was stopped, and Jem popped in a nose-ender in return which drew Bob’s cork, and established a claim of “first blood for Mace.” Bob shook his head as if annoyed, and in he went ding-dong; the exchanges all in favour of Mace, who hit straightest, hardest, and oftenest. Brettle closed, and Mace was under in the fall.
2.—Brettle exhibited some red marks indicative of Mace’s handiwork, while Mace showed a mouse under the left eye. Bob again opened the ball, but he was baffled, and as he persevered Jem popped him prettily on the nose, and then on the mouth, Brettle, nevertheless, giving him a rib-bender with the right, and on Mace retorting on his kissing organ Bob got down.
3.—Brettle’s countenance bore increasing marks of Mace’s skill as a face-painter, but he lost no time in going to work; Mace stood to him, and sharp counter-hits were exchanged; Mace on Brettle’s left eye, Brettle on Mace’s jaw. Exchanges and a close; the men separated, and Mace, in getting away, fell.
4.—Brettle was more cautious. He waited, and tried to draw his man. After a little manœuvring Brettle, amidst the cheers of the Brums, dropped on Mace’s conk a rattler, producing the ruby. Jem looked rather serious, and the Brums were uproariously cheerful. Bob tried it again, but failed, for Mace was first with him with a smasher on the mouth. Brettle bored in, but Mace threw him cleverly, and fell on him.
5.—Brettle slow, being shaken by the blows and fall in the last round. Mace waited for him, delivering right and left straight as an arrow, and getting away cleverly from the return. Bob followed him wildly, getting more pepper; and in the end Brettle was down in the hitting.
6.—Brettle’s left daylight was nearly obscured, and the right showed a distinct mouse. His mouth too, was out of symmetry, and his nose, naturally of the Roman order, resembled a “flat-fish.” Notwithstanding, he went in, and got it on the nose and mouth, returning in a wild and ineffective fashion, until a hot left-hander brought him to his knees in anything but a cheerful condition. At this point a cry of “Police,” was followed by the appearance of a posse of “blues,” headed by a magistrate from Didcot. Hostilities were immediately suspended, and all returned to the train. On a council being held, the “manager” who had deprecated this landing, declared that there was now no hope of pulling up at any part of the line; so there was nothing for it but to order the men to meet the referee on the following morning. “Book agen” was the mot d’ordre, which was doubly vexatious for the Birmingham division, who nolens volens had to journey to London, with very doubtful prospects of getting back their money at the next meeting.
After some discussion, all parties agreed to a renewal of the combat on the 20th of the month. The day proving exceptionally fine, the men and their friends started at an early hour from Fenchurch Street, concluding the rail part of the journey at Southend, where a couple of steam-tugs were in waiting, and a voyage to ground on the sea-coast of Essex, never before visited by the Fancy, was chosen. The odds on Mace were not taken, Brettle’s friends being few, and lacking confidence. At five minutes to one, all being in order, the men stood up.
THE FIGHT.