12.—Another splendid rally in this round, Mace again in a telling manner doing execution with both mauleys, but evidently forced back by King’s irresistible advance. The men, who had fought right across the ring, closed in Mace’s corner, when Jem got down, Tom falling on him. During this round the referee had several times to caution the seconds, who, in a most reprehensible manner, followed their principals as closely as frequently to be in the way of the combatants.
13.—The men again went to work in a spirited and determined manner. Jem, with his left, got well home on the front of his man’s dial, and jumped back; when Tom, with his right, administered some sounding spanks on the ribs. As Jem broke to get away, King followed him up, and Mace went down to end the round.
14.—Mace commenced operations by getting well in range and delivering a pretty left-hander full on the nose, knocking Tom’s head round as though it had been shaken off its connections; nevertheless Tom again tried to force the fighting, when, after some merry exchanges, they closed, and in the fall went down together in the centre of the ring. King’s friends cheered him heartily, as he fully deserved.
15.—Some sharp fighting, rather in favour of Mace, who, in the end, went down in the hitting, and King fell over him.
16.—Tom dashed in viciously, and after a fine exchange of compliments, in which each did execution, they closed, and Jem, who had had the best of the exchanges, fell under.
17.—Tom again forced the fighting, but though he delivered with his left, he was a little too round with his right to be effective. Mace, after countering with his antagonist, and getting well home with the left in the middle of the head, and following up at half measure with the right, got cleverly away from his man. As Jem took fresh position, Tom followed him up, and the men in a rally fought to the ropes. In the close both got under the top rope, and fell nearly out of the ring.
18.—Such a certainty was the battle looked upon by some of Jem’s admirers that Johnny Gideon here offered £30 to £5 on him, but there were no takers. Indeed, Tom’s umpire, a good judge, said that, bar accident, Mace could not lose. After some more severe fighting, in which Mace again delivered in a telling manner on Tom’s dial with both mauleys, Tom made a slip in getting from his man, and fell on his knees. On the instant the game fellow recovered his perpendicular, and as Jem noticed this he beckoned him to renew the round. King was willing, but his well-skilled seconds, seeing the fast work he was doing, refused to allow him.
19.—It now seemed “all over, but shouting,” to the partisans of Mace, who called out any odds, without response. As the men came up it was easy to see that Jem, thinking himself already victorious, was anxious to finish off the business, lest the appearance of the police, which had been rumoured, should rob him of his conquest at the last moment. He worked in with both hands in weaving style to get well to distance, and as he took up his position he got into a slight hollow of the ring. Jem, who had repeatedly tried to land a clipping cross-counter with his right, had just opened himself for the purpose of trying it on, when Tom, who stood firmly to his guns, met him with one of the most tremendous hits we ever saw. It was a cross-counter on the left cheek with his right hand—a blow that seemed to go all over Jem’s face with crushing effect. Jem, bleeding from the mouth and nose, reeled and staggered from the effect of this visitation, and then, to the consternation of friends, fell in the middle of the ring all of a heap. So sudden a change in the aspect of affairs had hardly ever been witnessed in the memory of the oldest ring-goer, and Jem’s seconds were working with a zeal which told how serious was the position. Down came the odds. “The Champion’s licked,” said twenty voices in a sort of stage whisper, and all eyes were strained in the direction of the busy group in Mace’s corner.
20.—King walked up to the scratch, watching the referee with ill-concealed anxiety to hear the call of “Time.” When, however, that functionary had twice repeated his summons, Mace, who had by no means recovered from the settler he had received, came unsteadily from his corner. Tom walked up to him, and Mace tried a wild delivery with his left, Tom retorted with a hot blow on the nose, and Mace, in getting away, went down close to the referee’s seat like a lump of lead. There was now the greatest commotion and excitement all round the ring. It was now as clearly King’s victory as it had previously been Mace’s. Brettle and Travers worked with a will, doing for their man everything possible, and he gallantly seconded their efforts, resolutely refusing to allow them to throw up the sponge.
21 and last.—Before Mace left his corner Tom was waiting for his man, and no sooner did Mace come up than King went to him, and, with a slight push on the head, sent him down. Jem, who was weak and exhausted, and who had the right side of his phiz swelled in an extraordinary manner from the effects of King’s right-hander, was now clearly hors de combat, and his friends, seeing he had not the remotest chance of winning, threw up the sponge in spite of his protests. This token of defeat was hailed with loud shouts by Tom’s friends, who were, of course, doubly delighted at the bravery and good fortune of their man, and they crowded enthusiastically round King to hail him as the last addition to the roll of brave men who have borne the proud title of Champion of England. The battle lasted exactly thirty-eight minutes.