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THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—​The position of Burke was easy and unconstrained. He stood rather square, his left foot in advance, and his arms well up, as if waiting for his antagonist to break ground. Bendigo, on the contrary, dropped his right shoulder, stooped a little, and, right foot foremost, seemed prepared to let fly left or right as the opportunity offered. After a little manœuvring, he made a catching feint with his left, but found the Deaf ’un immovably on his guard. They changed ground, both ready, when Bendigo let go his right, and caught Burke on the ribs, leaving a visible impression of his knuckles. More manœuvring. Bendigo tried his left, but was stopped. The Deaf ’un popped in his right, and caught Bendigo on the ear, but soon had a slap in return from Bendigo’s right, under the eye, as straight as an arrow. (Cheers for Bendigo.) Both steady. Bendigo made two or three feints with his left, but did not draw the Deaf ’un. Each evidently meaning mischief, and getting closer together. Counter hits with the left, when both, by mutual consent, got to a rally, and severe hits, right and left, were exchanged. The Deaf ’un closed, but Bendigo broke away, and turning round renewed the rally. Heavy exchanges followed, when they again closed, and trying for the fall both went down in the corner. (There was a cry of first blood from Bendigo’s left ear; but, although very red from the Deaf ’un’s visitations, the referee, who examined it, decided there was no claret.)

2.—​Both men showed symptoms of the “ditto repeated” in the last round, although no great mischief was done, nor was there much advantage booked, each having given as good as he got. The Deaf ’un resumed his defensive position, and was steady. Bendigo again tried the feint with his left, evidently desirous of leading off with his right, but the Deaf ’un was awake to this dodge, and grinned. The Deaf ’un tried his right, but was stopped. After a pause, during which the men shifted their ground, Bendigo let go his left, but was prettily stopped. He was more successful with his right, and caught the Deaf ’un a stinger under the eye. The straightness and quickness of these right-hand deliveries were now conspicuous. Counter hits, left and right, followed, and the Deaf ’un showed a slight tinge of claret on the mouth, but it was not claimed. The Deaf ’un now made up his mind for a determined rally, and to it they went ding-dong; the stops, hits, and returns, right and left, were severe, and no flinching. Bendigo again wheeled round, but the Deaf ’un was with him, and the rally was renewed with equal vigour and good will. Bendigo, rather wild at the end, closed, and after a sharp struggle, both down. (The Deaf ’un’s chère amie, before alluded to, now cheered him, but, indifferent to her blandishments, he was carried to his corner piping a little from the severity of his exertion. Bendigo, on reaching his corner, seemed freshest, and exhibited less impression from the blows which he had received than his antagonist.)

3.—​Both came up strong on their pins, but the Deaf ’un’s face, especially on the left cheek, was greatly flushed, and other marks and tokens of searching deliveries were visible. The Deaf ’un looked serious, and coughed as if the contents of his pudding-bag were not altogether satisfied with the disturbance to which they had been exposed. Sparring for a short time, when Bendigo let go his right, but was stopped; it was a heavy hit, and the sound of the dashing knuckles was distinctly heard. Well-meant blows on both sides stopped. The Deaf ’un again coughed; his “cat’s meat” was clearly out of trim. Again did the Deaf ’un stop Bendigo’s right, but did not attempt to return. He now seemed to gain a little more confidence, and exhibited a few of his hanky-panky tricks, making a sort of Merry Andrew dance; but his jollity was soon stopped, for Bendigo popped in his left and right heavily, and got away. The Deaf ’un changed countenance and was more serious; Bendigo again tried his left-handed feints and was readiest to fight, but the Deaf ’un stood quiet. (Even bets offered on Bendigo.) Bendigo closed in upon his man, who waited on the defensive; but his defensive system was inexplicable, for Bendigo jobbed him four times in succession with the right under the left eye, on the old spot, jumping away each time without an attempt at return on the part of the Deaf ’un, and producing a fearful hillock on the Deaf ’un’s cheek-bone. The Deaf ’un seemed paralysed by the stinging severity of these repeated visitations and his friends called on him to go in and fight. He made an attempt with his right, but was short; at last he rushed to a rally, and some heavy hits were exchanged; Bendigo retreated, but kept hitting on the retreat. The deliveries were rapid and numerous, but those of the Deaf ’un did not tell on the hard frontispiece of his opponent. They broke away, but again joined issue, and the rally was renewed. The jobbing hits, right and left, from Bendigo were terrific, and the Deaf ’un’s nose began to weep blood for the state of his left ogle, which was now fast closing. (The question of first blood was now decided.) Bendigo broke away again, the Deaf ’un following, but Bendigo, collecting himself, jobbed severely, the Deaf ’un apparently no return, and almost standing to receive. He looked round and seemed almost stupefied, but still he kept his legs, when Bendigo went in and repeated his right-handed jobs again and again; he then closed, gave the Deaf ’un the crook, threw him, and fell on him. (The seconds immediately took up their men, and both showed distress, especially the Deaf ’un, who was obviously sick, but could not relieve his stomach, although he tried his finger for that purpose. All were astonished at his sluggishness. He seemed completely bothered, and to have lost all power of reflection and judgment.)

4.—​The Deaf ’un now came up all the worse from the effects of the last rattling round, while Bendigo scarcely showed a scratch. The seconds of the Deaf ’un called on him “to go in and fight;” he obeyed the call, but again had Bendigo’s right on his damaged peeper. Bendigo fought on the retreat, hitting as he stepped back, but steadying himself he caught the Deaf ’un on the nose with his right, and sent his pimple flying backwards with the force of the blow. The Deaf ’un rushed in, hitting left and right, and in getting back Bendigo fell over the ropes out of the ring. (The fight had now lasted sixteen minutes; the Deaf ’un had all the worst of it, although Bendigo from his exertions exhibited trifling symptoms of distress.)

5.—​The Deaf ’un came up boldly, but all his cleverness seemed to have left him. Bendigo, steady, was first to fight, popping in his right; exchanges followed, and in the close both went down, Burke uppermost.

6.—​“Drops of brandy” were tried with the Deaf ’un, but his friends seemed to have “dropped down on their luck.” Still he came up courageously, although his right as well as his left eye was pinked. Counter-hitting, in which Bendigo’s right was on the old spot. A close at the ropes, the Deaf ’un trying for the fall, but after some pulling both went down and no harm done. (Three to one on Bendigo, but no takers.)

7.—​The Deaf ’un’s left eye was now as dark as Erebus, and as a last resource he tried the rush; he rattled in to his man without waiting for the attack, but in the close, after an exchange of hits and a severe struggle, was thrown. The moment the Deaf ’un was picked up he cried “Foul!” and asserted that Bendigo had butted him, looking anxiously at the umpire and referee for a decision in his favour; but there was no pretence for the charge, as it was obvious Bendigo merely jerked back his head to relieve himself from his grasp. Like “a drowning man,” however, it was obvious he was anxious to “catch at a straw.”

8.—​The Deaf ’un showed woeful punishment in the physog, although not cut. Again did he make a despairing rush, stopping Bendigo’s right, but in the second attempt he was not so fortunate, for Bendigo muzzled, closed, and threw him.

9.—​The Deaf ’un’s game was now clearly all but up, for while he showed such prominent proofs of the severity of his antagonist’s visitations to his nob, the latter was but little the worse for wear. The Deaf ’un, however, was determined to cut up well, and again rattled in left and right, Bendigo retreating and jobbing as he followed, and at length hitting him down with a right-handed blow on the pimple. The Deaf ’un, with one hand and one knee on the ground, looked up, but Bendigo stood steadily looking at him, and would not repeat the blow, showing perfect coolness and self-possession.

10, and last.—​The Deaf ’un, greatly distressed, still came up with a determination to produce a change if he could by in-fighting. He rushed into his man, hitting left and right, but receiving heavy jobs in return. He forced Bendigo with his back against the ropes, and, as he had him in that position, deliberately butted him twice, when both went down in the struggle for the fall. Jem Ward immediately cried “Foul!” and appealed to the referee, who refused to give any decision till properly appealed to by the umpires. He stepped into the ring, where he was followed by the umpires, when he was again appealed to, and at once declared that Burke had butted, and that therefore Bendigo was entitled to the victory—​a judgment in which, it is due to say, the umpire of the Deaf ’un, although anxious to protect his interests, declared in the most honourable manner he must concur. Several of Bendigo’s friends wished no advantage of this departure from the new rules to be taken, foreseeing that a few more rounds must finish the Deaf ’un; but the decision of the referee was imperative, and thus ended a contest which disappointed not only the backers of the Deaf ’un but the admirers of the Ring generally, who anticipated on the Deaf ’un’s part a different issue, or at least a better fight. With regard to the butting, of which we have no doubt, our impression is that it was done intentionally, and for the express purpose of terminating the fight in that way rather than by prolonging it to submit to additional punishment and the mortification of a more decided defeat; and we are the more inclined to this conclusion from the Deaf ’un’s readiness to claim a butt on the part of Bendigo in the seventh round, a convincing proof that he was fully sensible of its nature and consequence. An attempt was subsequently made to wrangle with the referee on the soundness of his decision, for the purpose of sustaining the character of the Deaf ’un, and exciting a spirit of discontent among his backers. This was not creditable, and to be classed among these petty expedients to which some of our modern “Ringsters” are but too willing to have recourse—​namely, at all events “to win, tie, or wrangle,” a practice to which every honest man must be opposed. The time occupied in the contest was exactly four-and-twenty minutes. In no one of Burke’s former battles was he more severely punished in the face, not, it is true, in any vital part, for all Bendigo’s hits, both left and right, were as straight as a line, going straight from the shoulder and slap to their destination. There were no round hits on his part, and the body blows on both sides were few and far between.

Remarks.—​Perhaps no battle on record offers a stronger illustration of the consequences of vanity and headstrong confidence than that which we have just recorded. Burke, puffed up by his former successes, and flattered by the good-natured freedom of young men of fashion, placed himself beyond the pale of instruction and advice. He was self-willed and obstinate, and quarrelled with all who presumed to guide him in the proper course. His repeated acts of imprudence while in training called forth the strongest remonstrances, but in vain; and thus he has found, when too late, that “a man who will be his own adviser” on such occasions “has a fool for his client.” Nothing but the most decided want of condition can account for the slowness which he exhibited; and, when his career from the time he went to Brighton till the day of the battle is considered, that state of constitution is sufficiently explained; and yet those besotted friends who knew all this were as prejudiced in his favour that they blindly pinned their faith to his former reputation, believed no man alive could beat him, and risked their money, as well as stultified their judgment, on we issue of his exertions. But then say these wiseacres, opening their eyes with well-feigned astonishment, “We could not have erred. It is impossible, seeing all that we have seen, and knowing what we have known of the Deaf ’un that he could have made so bad a fight, and be beaten so hollow by a countryman!” Oh no! this could not be—​and what follows? Why, the old story—​the honest Deaf ’un has all at once turned rogue—​he had been bought and fought a cross!—​he has sold his friends, and must be consigned to degradation. Why, from the third round it was seen by the merest tyro in the ring that he had not a chance. He was completely paralysed by the unexpected quickness of his adversary, who has, as Jem Ward foretold, proved himself a better man than has for some years appeared in the ring. This has been Ward’s constant cry, and had his advice been taken all the odds that were offered would have been taken. But no; the Londoners were not to be beaten out of their “propriety.” Twos to one, sevens to four, and sixes to four have, as is well known, been offered over and over again in sporting houses without takers, and many who lamented the impossibility of “getting on” before the fight, have now, after it, the consolation of feeling that they have “got off” most miraculously. And yet this was a cross; and the cunning concoctors of the robbery had the generosity to refuse the hundreds which were, as it were, forced under their noses. Verily this is “going the whole hog” with a vengeance; but from the little we know of such speculations we are inclined to think that those who hazard such an opinion will be deemed greater flats than they have proved themselves. It is an accusation unjust towards a weak, but, we believe, an honest man, and still more unjust towards Bendigo, who, throughout, proved himself, in every respect, a better fighter, as well as a harder hitter, than Burke, and who, in no part of the battle, was guilty of an act which would disentitle him to the honour and profit of his victory. But some facts seem to be altogether lost sight of in forming a just estimate of poor Burke’s pretensions, for, independent of his want of condition, it seems to be forgotten that instead of fighting or sparring for the last two years he has been confining himself to the personification of “the Grecian statues,” forsooth—​anything but calculated to give energy to his limbs—​added to which he is ruptured. We are also informed on medical authority that the patella or knee-pan of his right leg is as weak from the fracture which he sustained in the hospital some time back that he is obliged to support it by double laced bandages, and he has been altogether precluded from taking strong walking or running exercise, never having walked more than ten miles in any one day of his training. For our own part we think his day is gone by, and, like many other great performers, he has appeared once too often; but that he intentionally deceived his friends we believe to be a most ungenerous calumny, although his friends may have deceived themselves. After the fight, Burke, who was sufficiently well to walk from the ring, returned to Appleby, and from there to “foot-ball kicking” Atherstone, where the annual sports were merrily kept up in his absence. The same night he returned to Coventry, and arrived by the mail train in London the next morning, none the worse in his bodily health from the peppering he received, however mentally he was “down on his luck.” He complained much of his arms, which, from the wrists to the elbows, were covered with bruises, the effects of stopping—​and stopping blows, too, which, had they reached their destination, would have expedited his downfall. Bendigo returned to Nottingham the same night, decorated with his well-earned laurels; and it is to be hoped he will enjoy his victory with becoming modesty and civility, bearing in mind that he has yet to conquer Caunt before he can be proclaimed Champion of England.

The Deaf ’un, who showed on the Friday at Jem Burn’s, with the exception of his “nob” was all right. He complains most of having been stripped of his belt, which was attached to his truss by a loop, and the absence of which filled him with apprehension. This, combined with his admitted want of condition, he declares placed him on the wrong side the winning post. He is, however, most anxious for another trial, and instructs us to say that he still has supporters who will match him once more against Bendigo for £100 a side, the fight to come off in the same ring with Hannan and Walker; Burke to be permitted to wear his belt, as in the case of Peter Crawley and Jack Langan. It is needless to say that Burke never again faced Bendigo in the ring, getting on a match at this time with Jem Bailey.

For several months the newspapers were rife with challenges from Caunt to Bendigo and Bendigo to Caunt; each “Champion” roving about the counties in which he was most popular upon the “benefit dodge,” each with a star company, and each awakening the city or town where his company performed with a thundering challenge, while each pugilistic planet revolved in his own peculiar orbit without giving the other a chance of a “collision.”

In this interval Jem Ward presented a “Champion’s” belt to Bendigo, at the Queen’s Theatre, Liverpool, amid great acclamations, and again the tiresome game of challenging and making appointments for “a meeting to draw up articles,” at places where the challenged party never attended or meant to show, went on. Brassey, of Bradford, too, having in the interim beaten Young Langan, of Liverpool, and Jem Bailey, put in his claim and joined the chorus of challengers. Burke also offered himself for £100, which Bendigo declined, according to his published challenge. In the latter half of 1839 we read as follows:—

To the Editor of ‘Bell’s Life in London.’

“Sir,—​Caunt states that he has been given to understand I wish to have another trial with him for £200 a side, and that his money is ready at any sporting house in Sheffield. Now, Sir, I have been to many houses that he frequents, and cannot find any one to put any money down in his behalf; and as he was in Sheffield for a fortnight previous to my going away to second Renwick, I think, if he meant fighting, he would have made the match when we were both in Sheffield. Now, Sir, what I mean to say is this—​I will fight Caunt, or any other man in England, for from £200 to £500 a side, and I hope I shall not be disappointed, as I mean fighting, and nothing else; and to convince the patrons of the Prize Ring that there is no empty chaff about me, as I am going to leave Sheffield this week, my money will be ready any day or hour at Mr. Edward Daniels’, ‘Three Crowns,’ Parliament Street, Nottingham. Or if Burke wants another shy, I will fight him for £150 a side.

“WILLIAM THOMPSON, alias BENDIGO.”

This certainly looked like business, yet the next week we find Caunt declaring “I will make a match with Bendigo for £200, and I will take a sovereign to go to Nottingham, or give Bendigo the same if he will meet me at Lazarus’s house at Sheffield.” This was in July, and shortly after Bendigo writes:—

To the Editor of ‘Bell’s Life in London.’

“Mr. Editor,—​Having sent a letter to Caunt accepting his challenge on his own terms, and not receiving an answer, I wish to put that bounceable gentleman’s intentions to a public test. I am willing to fight him on his own terms, and I will give him the sovereign he requires to pay his expenses in coming to Nottingham to make the match, and let it be as early as possible. As to Deaf Burke, he is but of minor importance to me. I have no objection to give him another chance to regain his lost laurels, and will fight him for his ‘cool hundred,’ as he calls it, providing he or his friends make the first deposit £50, for my friends are not willing to stake less. Should the above not suit either of these aspirants for fistic fame, I again repeat I will fight any man in the world for £200 or £500, barring neither weight, country, nor colour. I am always to be heard of at the ‘Three Crowns,’ Parliament Street, Nottingham.

“WILLIAM THOMPSON, alias BENDIGO.

“August 3rd, 1839.”

Soon after we read:—

“Caunt and Bendigo.—​Bendigo went to Nottingham to make the match with Caunt on Saturday week, but the latter could not find more than two sovereigns to put down as a deposit. Caunt, before he indulges in bounce, should reflect that he only disgraces himself and gains nothing by his ‘clap-traps.’ These benefit humbugs must be suppressed.”

No wonder that the much-enduring editor should thus express himself. Nevertheless the “benefit humbug,” like other humbugs, exhibited irrepressible vitality; 1840 wore on, and Caunt, who seemed to prefer a tourney with Brassey or Nick Ward (who had challenged him), did not close with Bendigo. Had there been a real intention, the subjoined should have brought the men together:—

To the Editor of ‘Bell’s Life in London.’

“Sir,—​I agree with you that there is more ‘talk than doing’ among the professors of ‘the art of Self-Defence’ of the present day—​more challenges than acceptances—​evidently for the purpose of giving to the members of the Ring, for benefits and other interested purposes, fame and character which they do not always possess—​I allude particularly to Caunt and Bendigo, ‘the Great Guns of the day.’ Each talks of being backed, but each, in turn, avoids ‘the scratch.’ Now to the test: I am anxious, for the sake of society, that ‘old English Boxing’ should not decline, because I am sure it is the best school for the inculcation of ‘fair play,’ and the suppression of the horrible modern use of the knife—​and of this I am prepared to give proof. Bendigo says he will not fight Caunt for less than £200, which sum I presume he can find, or he, too, is carrying on ‘the game of humbug.’ Caunt says he is equally ready to fight Bendigo, but cannot come to his terms. Now to make short work of it—​if Caunt can get backed for £100, I will find another £100 for him, and thus come to Bendigo’s terms. Let him communicate with Jem Burn, in whom I have confidence, and the money shall be ready at a moment’s warning. I wish for a fair, manly fight and no trickery; and my greatest pleasure will be to see the ‘best man win.’ In and out of the Ring prize-fighters ought to be friends—​it is merely a struggle for supremacy, and this can be decided without personal animosity, foul play, or foul language, all of which most be disgusting to those who look to sustain a great national and, as I think, an honourable game.

“I am, &c.,

“A MEMBER OF THE NEW SPARRING CLUB AT JEM BURN’S.”

Brassey, however, was withdrawn from the controversy by an accident beyond his own control. The magistrates of Salford, determining to suppress pugilism so far as in them lay, indicted Brassey for riot in seconding Sam Pixton in a fight with Jones, of Manchester, and, obtaining a conviction, sentenced him to two months’ incarceration in the borough gaol. He was thus placed hors de combat.

Early in 1840 Bendigo was in London, with his head-quarters at Burn’s, where Nick Ward exhibited with him with the gloves in friendly emulation. The brother of the ex-champion, however, was averse to any closer engagement. Bendigo returned to the provinces, and the next week the public was informed that “Caunt’s money, to be made into a stake of £200, was lying at Tom Spring’s, but nothing has been heard from Bendigo!” The conjunction of circumstances is curious, for in the same week the subjoined paragraph appeared, which records an accident which certainly crippled Bendigo for the rest of his life. Indeed the author, who at this period saw him occasionally, did not consider him well enough to contend in the ring up to the time of his crowning struggle with the gigantic Caunt.

“Accident to Bendigo.—​William Thompson, better known by his cognomen of ‘Bendigo,’ has met with an accident which is likely to cripple him for life. On Monday he had been to see the military officers’ steeplechase, near Nottingham, and on his return home he and his companions were cracking their jokes about having a steeplechase among themselves. Having duly arrived nearly opposite the Pindar’s House, on the London Road, about a mile from Nottingham, Bendigo exclaimed, ‘Now, my boys, I’ll show you how to run a steeplechase in a new style, without falling,’ and immediately threw a somersault; he felt, whilst throwing it, that he had hurt his knee, and on alighting be attempted in vain three times to rise from the ground; his companions, thinking for the moment he was joking, laughed heartily, but discovering it was no joke went to his assistance and raised him up, but the poor fellow had no use of his left leg. A gig was sent for immediately, in which he was conveyed to the house of his brother, and Messrs. Wright and Thompson, surgeons, were immediately called in. On examination of the knee we understand they pronounced the injury to the cap to be of so serious a nature that he is likely to be lame for life.

This serious mishap, which befell him on the 23rd of March, 1840, was the result of those “larking” propensities for which Bendy was notorious. It shelved our hero most effectually, leaving the field open to Caunt, Nick Ward, Brassey, Deaf Burke, Tass Parker, and Co., whose several doings will be found in the proper place.

While Bendigo suffers as an im-patient under the hands of the Nottingham doctors for more than two years, we shall, before again raising the curtain, interpose a slight entr’acte in the shape of a little song to an old tune, then in the height of its popularity, “The Fine Old English Gentleman;” of which we opine we have read worse parodies than this, which was often chaunted in the parlour of Tom Spring’s “Castle,” in Holborn, at various meetings of good men and true, the patrons of fair play and of the then flourishing “Pugilistic Association,” whereof Tom was the President, and “the Bishop of Bond-street” the Honorary and Honourable Treasurer.

THE FINE OLD ENGLISH PUGILIST

By the P.L. of the P.R.

I’ll sing a song of days of old now vanish’d like the mist,

And may the fire of “Frosty Face” a modern bard assist

To pay the honours justly due to each Old Pugilist,

Who, not for filthy lucre, but for conquest, clenched his fist,

Like a fine Old English Pugilist,

One of the olden time!

No plans of crossing robbery he ever deigned to hatch,

The honest backers to betray, or simple ones to catch;

But at a moment’s notice always ready for a match,

Whoever was the customer that dar’d him to the scratch,

Like a fine Old English Pugilist,

One of the olden time!

Whate’er his size, whate’er his weight, he didn’t care a pin,

The science of his challenger, or colour of his skin,

But gallantly he went to work, regardless of the tin,

And though not certain of success he did his best to win.

Like a fine Old English Pugilist,

One of the olden time!

Those were the days when Ben the Big and Johnson fought of old,

Mendoza, Humphries, Bristol Pearce, and both the Belchers bold,

That was, I mention it with pride, Pancratia’s age of gold,

When men, like cattle in a fair, were neither bought nor sold,

But shone true British Pugilists,

Men of the olden time!

Then manfully within the ring each boxer kept his ground,

Bestowing wholesale pepper in each well-contested round;

And when the victory was proclaim’d, their brows with conquest crown’d,

All anger, in a foaming pot, was in an instant drown’d,

Like fine Old English Pugilists,

Men of the olden time!

But, ah, those hours flew swiftly by, of boxing annals bright,

And men began to do the thing that wasn’t very right,

And honesty from Pugilists prepar’d to take a flight,

For cross coves manag’d, as they pleas’d, to win or lose a fight,

Unlike brave English Pugilists,

Men of the olden time!

Then censures on the fancy Ring on every hand were rife,

And beaks proclaim’d they’d put an end to Boxiana’s life;

And now, as a more gentle mode of settling points of strife,

We’ve introduc’d, God save the mark! the dagger and the knife;

Oh, for brave English Pugilists,

Men of the olden time!

Now surely it were better far the Ring should thrive again,

And good Old English Boxing should a character maintain,

Than that assassination foul our annals still should stain,

And crimes best suited to the soil of Italy and Spain,

Unlike Old English Pugilism,

Milling of olden time!

In 1842 Bendigo, maugre the advice of the medicos, made his way to London, and, putting in an appearance at a “soirée” at Jem Burn’s, solicited the honour of a glove-bout with Peter Crawley. Bendy’s resuscitation was hailed with delight, and as he declared his readiness to renew a broken-off match with Tass Parker, a spirited patron of the Ring declared that money should be no obstacle. On the Thursday week ensuing, Tass also being in town with his friends for the Derby week, all parties met at Johnny Broome’s, and articles were penned and duly signed. By these it was agreed that the men should meet on Wednesday, the 24th of August, within twenty miles of Wolverton, in the direction of Nottingham, for a stake of £200 a side.

Parker having beaten Harry Preston, the game Tom Britton, of Liverpool, and the powerful John Leechman (Brassey, of Bradford), was now at the pinnacle of his fame. His friends, too, were most confident, as Bendigo’s lameness was but too painfully apparent. Tass offered to “deposit the value of Bendigo’s belt, to be the prize of the victor.” The match went on until June 28th, when, £140 being down, it was announced at the fifth deposit that the bold Bendigo was in custody on a warrant issued by his brother (a respectable tradesman in Nottingham), who was averse to his milling pursuits. The rumour was too true. Bendy was brought before their worships, charged with intending a breach of the peace with one Hazard Parker, and held to bail to keep the peace towards all Her Majesty’s subjects for twelve months, himself in £100, and two sureties of £100 each.

During this interval, too, Ben Caunt had not been idle. He had beaten Brassey on the 27th of October, 1840, after a long, clumsy tussle of 101 rounds in an hour and a half, as may be read in the memoir of Caunt. He had also lost a fight with Nick Ward, by being provoked to a foul blow, and then beaten the same shifty pug. in May, 1841, thereafter departing on a tour to America, after the fashion of other modern champions. “Time and the hour wore on;” Bendy’s knee strengthened, and Big Ben returned from Yankeeshire, bringing with him, from the land of “big things,” the biggest so-called boxer that ever sported buff in the P.R., in the person of Charles Freeman, weighing 18st., and standing 6ft. 10½in. in his stocking feet. Freeman’s brief career will be found in an Appendix to that of his only antagonist William Perry, the Tipton Slasher.

At the close of 1843 Bendigo once again disputed the now established claim of Caunt to the proud title of Champion of England, when Brassey also offered himself to Bendigo’s notice. The Bradford Champion, however, does not seem to have had moneyed backers, and the business hung fire. On the 14th February, 1844, we find the following:—

VALENTINE FROM BENDIGO TO BRASSEY.

Many happy returns of the Spring, bouncing Brassey,

I hope Fortune gives you no cause to complain,

That you’re right as a trivet, determined and saucy,

And ready for mischief with Bendy again.

May I never again take a sip of blue ruin

If I love to see fair English fighting take wing;

’Tis time for the “big ’uns” to up and be doing,

For bantam cocks only show now in the Ring.

Then again for the laurel crown let us be tugging,

May fair play be always our motto and plan!

But Caunt I denounce, and his system of hugging,

A practice more fit for a bear than a man.

As to Freeman, the giant—​I don’t mean offending—

His bulk and his weight may astonish the raw,

But when with Bill Perry, the Slasher, contending,

I’m bless’d if he showed any point worth a straw.

Of falsehood I scorn the unclean manufacture,

My luck with good men always forward to try;

And but for my knee-pan’s unfortunate fracture

With the Yankee I wouldn’t have shrunk from a shy.

Then, Brassey, come out if you truly mean milling,

And drop down your dust for a match if you dare,

And you’ll find Billy Bendigo ready and willing

To give you a sample of Nottingham ware.

I’m anxious, bold Brassey, again to be busy,

And face a good fellow, true-hearted and tough;

And I’d cheerfully draw from my cly my last tizzy

To see two game pugilists stripp’d to the buff.

But here I conclude, for my time’s up for starting,

And conscience is giving a sort of a shove;

But I just drop a hint, my good fellow, at parting,—

If you can’t raise the needful, I’ll fight you for love.

Brassey did not make a deposit, and Caunt, who was now settled at the “Coach and Horses,” St. Martin’s Lane, seemed rather given to benefits and bounce than boxing.

The rest of the year was consumed in correspondence, in which Bendigo demanded the odds offered and then retracted by Caunt, the latter having, ad interim, a row, and ridiculous challenge from Jem Burn, and an equally absurd cartel from a burly publican named Kingston, whose eccentric antics will be noticed in the memoir of Caunt.

The year 1845 was, however, destined to see the eccentric Bendigo and the ponderous Caunt brought together. All doubts and surmises were silenced when articles were signed to the effect that on the 9th of September, 1845, the men were to meet, Bendigo having closed, after innumerable difficulties, with Caunt’s terms of £200 a side and the belt.

At the final deposit, on August 26th, at Tom Spring’s, the Castle Tavern, Holborn, it was officially announced that both men were in splendid condition. Bendigo had trained at Crosby, near Liverpool, under the care of Jem Ward, and Caunt near Hatfield, in Hertfordshire, where he was looked after by his uncle, Ben Butler, and by Jem Turner, the D’Orsay of the Ring, besides being constantly visited by his great friend and patron, the gallant Tom Spring. Caunt, who was now thirty-three years of age, had scaled over 17st. when he went into training, but on the day of the fight was reduced to a pound under 14st., the lightest weight he ever reached in any of his fights. Bendigo, who was three years older, weighed 12st. 1lb., and was also in the pink of condition. When articles were originally signed, on April 17th, it was arranged that the fight should take place half-way between London and Nottingham, but at the final supper this was altered by mutual consent to Newport Pagnel, in Bucks. On the Sunday Bendigo, Merryman, and Jem Ward arrived at Newport Pagnel, which led to an immediate issue of a warrant, and Bendigo’s friends took him out of the town to a neighbouring farmhouse. Caunt turned up in London, at Spring’s, with his uncle, Ben Butler, on the Monday afternoon, in high spirits, though remarkably thin. He had got rid of every ounce of superfluous flesh, and was nothing but bone and sinew. Two hundred of his handkerchiefs were sold, at a guinea each if he won, nothing if he lost. He left by the four o’clock train for Wolverton, from whence he proceeded, with Spring and other friends, to the “Cock” at Stony Stratford. Newport Pagnel was full of the Nottingham division. The “Swan” (Tom Westley’s) and all the other inns were filled to excess. In the evening Spring went to the “Swan” to meet Bendigo’s friends to settle the place. Bendigo wished to fight in Bucks; Spring had seen constables with warrants, and wanted to take them to Oxfordshire, to Lillingston Level, where Deaf Burke and Nick Ward fought in 1840. There was a long disputation, but at last they agreed to toss. Jem Ward, for Bendigo, won, and they chose Bedfordshire. In the morning they again altered their minds, and determined to try Whaddon in Oxfordshire. This ill-judged proceeding necessitated a ten miles’ tramp to Whaddon, where the first ring was pitched. Meanwhile, at the “Cock,” at Stony Stratford, the chief constable told Spring that Whaddon was in Bucks, and that they could not fight in that county. Spring sent off a messenger, but at first the Nottingham roughs would not allow a move to be made; at last they started for another eight miles’ walk to Sutfield Green. At half-past two a second ring was formed, when there were at least 10,000 people present. The Nottingham roughs, who were in great force, made an invasion, and drove all back who would not buy Nottingham tickets. Spring, who had provided tickets for the London men, had not yet arrived. At twenty minutes past three the men entered the ring—​Caunt first, attended by Molyneux the Black and Jem Turner as seconds, Butler having charge of the bottles. Bendigo was attended by Nick Ward and Jack Hannan, Jem Ward and Jem Burn. They shook hands, and tossed for choice of corners. Caunt won, and took the higher ground, with his back to the sun. Spring, in compliance with the articles, produced Caunt’s belt, and handed it to Bendigo to show it was the genuine article. He buckled it on in bravado, and laughingly offered to bet Caunt £50 that he would win the fight. Caunt declined; he evidently did not appreciate Bendy’s funniment. The belt was then handed to Jem Ward to await the result. There was another disputation about choice of referee. After various names had been proposed on one side only to be captiously rejected on the other, “t’Auld Squire”—​the renowned George Osbaldiston—​who had retreated to his carriage to get out of the rush, was agreed to. At first the Squire declined, but being pressed, and it being urged that if he did not consent the match would not come off, he accepted. Bendigo’s colours were blue with white spot—​Caunt’s bright orange, with blue border, the following inscription in a garter in centre:—​“Caunt and Bendigo, for £200 and the Championship of England, 9th September, 1845.” This was surrounded with the words, “May the best man win!”

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—​Caunt threw himself into attitude erect and smiling, whilst Bendigo at once began to play round him, dodging and shifting ground in his usual style. Caunt let fly his left, but missed. Bendigo, active on his pins, retreated, and chasséed left and right; at last he crept in closer, then out again, till, watching his opportunity, he got closer, and popped in a sounding smack with his left on Caunt’s right eye. After a few lively capers he succeeded in delivering another crack with his left on Caunt’s cheek, opening the old scar left by Brassey, and drawing first blood, as well as producing an electric effect on Caunt’s optic. (Shouts unlimited from Bendigo’s friends.) Bendy got away laughing, and again played round his man. Caunt got closer, missed an intended slasher with his left, and closed for the fall. Bendy grappled with him, but could not escape, and Caunt, by superior strength, forced him down at the corner.

2.—​Caunt up at the call of time, his cheek and eye testifying the effects of the visitations in the last round, Bendy dancing round him, and waiting for an opening. Slight exchanges left and right, Caunt missing his opponent’s head; Bendigo, in retreating to the ropes, slipped down, was up again in a moment, and dashed to his man. Wild exchanges, but no apparent execution; Caunt hit out viciously left and right, missed his kind intentions, and Bendy got down unscathed.

3.—​Caunt came up quiet, and determined on annihilation. Bendy again played about him, but did not get near enough for execution. After some wild passes, Caunt missing, Bendigo, on the retreat, was caught in the powerful grasp of Caunt, who threw him across the ropes and fell on him, but no mischief done. (Shouts from the roughs.)

4.—​Caunt came up blowing, when Bendigo, after a little dodging, popped in his left under his guard, and got away. Caunt, determined on mischief, followed his man, and at last getting to him let fly left and right, catching Bendy with the left on the mouth slightly, but missing his right. Bendigo finding himself in difficulties got down, falling on the ropes, and grinning facetiously at Goliath the Second, who walked back to his corner.

5.—​Caunt, first to lead off, drew on his man, but Bendy retreated, Caunt after him, till he reached the ropes, when Caunt hit out left and right, his blows passing harmlessly over Bendigo’s head. There was a want of precision in Caunt’s hitting not to be accounted for with his supposed science. Bendigo, who stopped rather wildly, got down.

6.—​Caunt, first to the call of time, waited with his hands well up, but blowing. We believe he was over-trained, and really distressed thus early in the struggle. Bendy manœuvred to the right and left; Caunt approached him, but he retreated. Caunt let fly left and right, but Bendy ducked his canister, and got down with more caution than gallantry.

7.—​Left-handed exchanges on the nobs, but of no moment. Caunt made some desperate lunges left and right, but was too high, and Bendy slipped down.

8.—​Bendy, after a few dodges, got within Caunt’s guard with his left, and gave him a pretty prop on the cheek. Caunt missed his return, but, seizing Bendy in his grasp, flung him over the ropes. Here he leaned heavily on him, overbalanced himself, and fell over on his own head, bringing Bendy with him, amidst loud shouts and abusive epithets. Caunt fell at the feet of his friends, Tom Spring and the editor of Bell’s Life, the latter of whom was seated on that side of the ring near the centre stake.

9.—​Bendy came up full of glee, and played round his man, watching for his opportunity to plant his left. This at last offered, and catching Caunt on the old wound he ducked his head to avoid the return, and got down.

10.—​More sly manœuvring by Bendy, who, after dancing about at arm’s length, stole a march, and caught Caunt a stinging smack with his left on the right cheek, drawing more claret, and giving the big ’un more of the tragedy hue. Caunt instantly closed, gave Bendy the Cornish hug, flung him by main strength, and fell on him.

11.—​Bendy pursued his eccentric gyrations round his man, when with the swiftness of lightning he popped in his left on the jaw and right on the body, and fell. Caunt, stung by these visitations, followed him, and dropped on his knees close to his man, but luckily did not touch him, and Bendy was picked up laughing and uninjured; in fact, up to this time he scarce showed the semblance of a hit beyond a slight contusion on the lip and left ear.

12.—​Bendigo retreated from Caunt’s vigorous charge right and left, and slipped down, but instantly jumped up and renewed the round. After some wild fighting, but no execution worth recording, Bendy went down in his corner, amidst cries of “Foul!” “Unmanly,” &c.

13.—​Caunt, on coming to the scratch, let fly with his left, just grazing the top of Bendigo’s scalp. A sharp rally followed, and counter hits with the left were exchanged, Bendy hitting Caunt with such terrible force on the old spot on the right cheek that he knocked him clean off his legs, thus gaining the first knock-down blow, amidst deafening shouts from the Nottingham roughs. Bendigo’s blow was so powerful that he actually rebounded back against the stakes, and Caunt was picked up almost stunned by the severity of the visitation.

14.—​Bendy, elated with his handiwork in the last round, again dashed in with his left, but not being sufficiently quick in his retreat Caunt caught him round the neck with his left and lifted him to the ropes, and there hung on him till, in trying to escape from his grasp, he pulled him forward, threw, and fell heavily on him, amidst the indignant shouts of his opponents.

15.—​Bendy came up as lively as a kitten, while Caunt, undismayed, came smiling to the scratch. Caunt plunged in his left and right, but missed; he then seized his man for the throw, but Bendy slipped round, and seizing Caunt by the neck pulled him down.

16.—​Bendy tried his left-hand dodge, but missed and retreated. Caunt followed him up to his corner, hitting out right and left, but throwing his hands too high. Caunt grappled for the fall, but Bendy got down, Caunt following suit, and as he sat upon the ground beckoned Bendy to come to him.

17.—​Bendy made himself up for mischief, and played round his man for a few seconds, when, getting within distance, he delivered a terrific hit with his left on Caunt’s mouth, and fell. Caunt’s upper lip was completely split by this blow, and the blood flowed from the wound in torrents. (Renewed cheers from the Nottingham division.)

18.—​Bendy again came the artful dodge put in his left on Caunt’s mouth, and fell. Caunt pointed at him, but Bendy laughed and nodded.

19.—​Bendy, more cautious, kept out Caunt rushed to him, hitting out left and right, but with little effect. Bendy retreated. Caunt caught him on the ropes, and hung on him till he fell. (More shouting and some threats at Caunt.)

20.—​Caunt, anxious to be at work, advanced, while Bendy retreated to the ropes, where he hit up with his left, and slipped. Caunt turned his back, and was retiring, when Bendy jumped up, and had another slap at him. Caunt turned round and caught him under his arm as he attempted to escape, lifted him to the ropes, and there held him till he fell, amidst the cries of Bendy’s friends.

21.—​Caunt prompt to the call of time, his hands well up, but Bendy again stole a march, popped in his left, and slipped down to avoid a return of the compliment. (Indignant expressions at Bendigo’s shifty way of terminating the rounds.)

22.—​Bendy was still free from punishment, and looked as fresh as when he entered the ring, while Caunt, although firm and active on his pins, showed heavy marks of punishment on his frontispiece; his cheek had a gaping wound, his lip cut, and eye and nose evincing the consequence of Bendy’s sly but stinging visitations. Caunt, impatient at Bendy’s out-fighting, rushed to him left and right, but Bendy, unwilling to try the weight of superior metal, slipped down, and Caunt fell over him, but not on him, as his friends anticipated, and as perhaps he intended.

23.—​Both fresh. After a little dodging, advancing, and retreating, Bendy again nailed Caunt with his left on his damaged kissing-trap. Caunt caught him a slight nobber on the head with his left, and Bendy got down.

24.—​Bendy again played round his man till within distance, when he popped in a heavy blow on the ribs with his left, and got down without a return. There was an immediate cry of “Foul!” and an appeal was made to the referee. He hesitated, amidst tumultuous cries of “Fair! fair!” and allusions to the size of Caunt. The uproar was terrific, and the inner circle was overwhelmed by the roughs from without rushing in to enforce their arguments in favour of Bendy. At last the referee decided “Fair,” and “time” was called.

25.—​Nick Ward was here so overcome with his exertions that he was taken out of the ring, and his office was filled by Nobby Clark. The moment time was called, and Bendy reached the scratch, Caunt rushed to him left and right, and after slight and wild exchanges with the left Bendy slipped and got down cunning.

26.—​Bendy, after a little hanky-panky manœuvring, popped in his left on Caunt’s mug, and retreated to the corner of the ring. Caunt followed him with so much impetuosity that he hit his hand against the stake. In the close and scramble for the fall, Bendy succeeded in pulling Caunt down, falling with him.

27.—​Caunt on his guard, his hands well up. Bendy stepped in, delivered his left on the old spot, and dropped to avoid; Caunt shaking his finger at him as he retired to his corner. Caunt’s right was visibly puffed by its contact with the stake in the previous round.

28.—​Caunt attempted to lead off with his left, but Bendy retreated to the ropes, over which Caunt forced him, and as he lay upon him, both still hanging on the lower rope, Bendy hit up with his left. In this position they lay, half in and half out of the ring, till released by their seconds.

29.—​Caunt let fly left and right, but he was short, Bendy playing the shifty game. Wild fighting on both sides, till Caunt fell on his knees. Bendy looked at him, lifted his hand to strike, but he prudently withheld the blow, and walked to his corner. (Shouts from the Nottingham “Lambs.”)

30.—​A rally, in which both fought wildly, Caunt catching Bendy a crack over the right brow, from which the claret flowed, and Bendy returning the compliment on Caunt’s smeller. In the end Bendy slipped down, and, on rising, a small black patch was placed on the damaged thatch of his peeper.

31.—​Bendy resumed his hitting and getting down system, popping in his left on Caunt’s muzzle, and slipping down.

32.—​The same game repeated. Spring, indignant, appealed to the referee; and Molyneux, in like manner, called on the umpires for their decision; they disagreed, and Molyneux ran to the referee. The roughs again had their say. A blow was aimed at Spring’s head with a bludgeon, which fortunately only fell on his shoulder. It was a spiteful rap, and he felt the effect of it for some days. The referee declared, however, that he had not seen anything unfair, and Molyneux returned to his man, and brought him to the scratch at the call of time, amidst tremendous confusion, sticks in operation in all directions, and many expressing great dissatisfaction at Bendy’s unfair mode of fighting, and the reluctance of the referee to decide against him.[6]

33.—​A short round, in which Bendy retreated, and Caunt, following, caught him at the ropes and threw him over, falling on him.

34.—​Bendy again popped in his left, and threw himself down (?) This was repeated in the two succeeding rounds, but Bendy’s friends attributed it to accident, and not design, and there was no adverse decision on the part of the referee, whose position, amidst the tumult that prevailed, was far from enviable. He must have been possessed of no small nerve to have presumed to decide against the arguments that were so significantly shaken in the vicinity of his knowledge-box, and to this must be attributed his reluctance to give a candid opinion. [Partisan writing.—​Ed. “Pugilistica.”]

37.—​Bendy tried his hit and get-down practice, but Caunt seized him round the neck, threw, and fell over him.

38.—​A wild and scrambling rally, in which Bendigo caught it on the nob. After a scramble they fell, Caunt within and Bendigo without the ropes, when each put his tongue out at the other like angry boys.

39.—​A slight exchange of hits with the left, when Bendy went down laughing.

40.—​Bendy popped in his left on Caunt’s ancient wound, his right on the ribs, and slipped down.

41.—​Bendy renewed his left-handed visitation, and was retreating, when Caunt rushed after him, caught him at the ropes, over which he threw him, and fell on him. A blow was here aimed at Caunt’s head by one of the roughs with a bludgeon, but it fell on Bendy’s shoulder.[7]

42.—​Exchanges of hits left and right, when Bendy got down.

43.—​Bendy manœuvred in his old way, delived a smashing hit with his left on Caunt’s throat, and went down to avoid a return.

44.—​Caunt came up fresh, and rushed to the assault, but Bendy got down. Caunt, indignant, jumped over him, but luckily fell on his knees beyond him, without touching him. It was assumed that he meant to jump on him, and an uproarious appeal of “Foul” was made to the referee, which, after much confusion, he decided in the negative, and ordered the men to go on.

45.—​Bendy renewed his Merry Andrew curvetings, and tried his left, but Caunt seized him round the neck with his right, and swung him twice round like a cat. Bendy succeeded in getting the lock with his right leg, when Caunt gave him a twist, threw, and fell heavily on him, a little to the derangement of the Nottingham heroes, who shouted vociferously.

46.—​Caunt again succeeded in catching Bendy by the neck under his powerful arm, threw, and fell heavily on him, but at the same time came with great force against the ground himself.

47.—​Caunt led off with the left, catching Bendy on the forehead. Bendy retreated, hit Caunt as he came in with his left on his distorted phiz, dropped, and looked up in derision. Appeal from this species of generalship seemed now to be idle, and was not repeated. [He slipped through Caunt’s hands, which he was entitled to do.—​Ed.]

The succeeding ten rounds were fought in the same style. Little worthy of note occurred; each in turn obtained some trifling advantage in the hitting or failing but neither exhibited any disposition to say enough, although we thought that Bendigo from his repeated falls, began to evince symptoms of fatigue. The confusion round the ring continued most annoying, although, the ropes and stakes were still preserved entire. Many persons, from the pressure of those behind, were completely exhausted, and happy to beat a retreat. For ourselves (Ed. of Bell’s Life) we had repeatedly to bear the weight of some half-dozen neighbours, to which the bodies of both Caunt and Bendigo were occasionally added as they fell over the ropes on us. During all this time the members of the London Ring, with one or two exceptions (Macdonald and Johnny Broome in particular), were perfectly quiescent, and looked on with modest timidity, evidently afraid to interfere with the “club law” of the Nottingham bands, who were regularly organised, and obeyed the signals of their leaders with a discipline worthy of a better cause. [An impartial observation convinced us that Caunt’s partisans quite rivalled those of Bendigo in riotous ruffianism.—​Ed. “Pugilistica.”]

58.—​Bendigo “jumped Jim Crow” round his man, tipped him a left-handed smeller, and dropped without a return.

59.—​Caunt followed Bendy to the corner of the ring, hitting out left and right, but without precision, and certainly without doing execution. Bendy nailed him with his left in the old style, and slipped down, but instantly jumped up to renew the round. Caunt, instead of stopping to fight, considering the round over, ran across the ring to his corner, Bendy after him, till they reached the ropes, and after a confused scramble, in which Bendy used his left and right behind Caunt’s back, both were down, amidst general expressions of distaste at this style of fighting, but loud applause for Bendy.

60.—​Caunt no sooner on his legs than to his man, but Bendy escaped his intended compliments left and right, threw in his left on the mouth, and dropped, Caunt falling over him.

61.—​One hour and twenty-four minutes had now elapsed, but there were still no symptoms of an approaching termination to the battle; each appeared fresh on his pins and strong; and although Caunt showed awful flesh wounds on his dial, there was nothing to diminish the hopes of his friends(!) Bendy exhibited but a few slight contusions, and although, no doubt, shaken by the falls, and his own repeated prostrations, he appeared as active and leary as ever. Caunt, anxious to be at work, rattled to his man, hitting left and right, but Bendy retired, and fell back across the ropes.

62.—​Bendy again on the retreat; Caunt after him, hitting wildly and without precision left and right. Bendy gave him an upper pop with his left, and slipped down. Caunt was retiring, when Bendy jumped up again to renew active operations, but Caunt dropped on his knees, looked up in Bendy’s face, grinning, as much as to say, “Would you?” and Bendy, deeming discretion the better part of valour, contented himself with shaking his fist and retiring to his corner. Spring here remarked that jumping up to hit a man when the round was over, and when he was unprepared, was as much foul as striking a man down, and in this we perfectly concur. [No appeal was made, but the Squire sent to Clarke to caution his man that such conduct was dangerous.—​Ed.]

63.—​Caunt let fly left and right, but missed his blows. Both slipped down on their knees in the struggle which followed, and laughed at each other. In Caunt’s laugh, from the state of his mug, there was little of the comic.

64.—​Bendy renewed his hanky-panky tricks, and trotted round his opponent. Caunt rushed to him, but he retreated to the ropes, hit up, and dropped, but instantly rose again to renew the round. Caunt was with him, but he again got down, falling over the bottom rope; and Caunt narrowly escaped dropping with his knee on a tender part.

65.—​Bendy again dropped his left on the sly on Caunt’s damaged phiz, and went down. Caunt fell over him, jumped up, and retired to his corner.

66.—​A slight rally, in which wild hits were exchanged, and Bendy received a pop in the mouth, which drew the claret. Bendy dropped on one knee, but, although Caunt might have hit him in this position, he merely drew back his hand and refrained.

67.—​Bendy came up cautious, keeping à la distance for a few seconds, when he slyly approached, popped in a tremendous body blow with his left, and dropped, as if from the force of his own delivery, but evidently from a desire to avoid the return. Caunt winced under the effect of this hit, and went to his corner.

68.—​Caunt quickly advanced to his work, but Bendy retreated to the corner, waited for him, popped in a slight facer, and, in a wild scramble, got down.

69.—​Bendy threw in another heavy body blow with his left, and was going down, when Caunt, with great adroitness, caught him round the neck with his left arm, lifted him completely off the ground, and, holding him for a few seconds, fell heavily on him.

70–73.—​Scrambling rounds, in which wild exchanges took place, and Bendy slipped down as usual to avoid punishment.

74.—​Caunt to the charge, and Bendy on the retreat to the corner, where he succeeded in flinging in his left with terrific force on Caunt’s damaged cheek, and dropped.

75.—​Bendy again on the retreat, till he came to the ropes, over which he was forced, Caunt on him.

76.—​Caunt planted his left on Bendy’s pimple, and he slipped down.

77.—​A scrambling round, in which both hit wildly and without effect. Caunt in vain tried to nail his man with his right; he was always too high, and Bendy went down. The uproar without the ring was tremendous, and whips and sticks were indiscriminately applied.

78.—​Bendy, after some dodging, delivered his right heavily on Caunt’s body, and got down. It was a fearful smack.

79.—​Caunt led off with his left; Bendy ducked to avoid; and in the close both were down. Bendy was too cunning to allow his opponent the chance of the throw.

80.—​Bendy made his favourite sly hit with his left on Caunt’s smeller, and slipped down without the account being balanced. “Time” was very inaccurately kept, a minute, instead of half that time, being frequently allowed. [The blame was alternately in each corner; the seconds continuing their attentions to their men, heedless of the call of the holder of the watch.—​Ed.]

81.—​Bendy again displayed symptoms of fatigue, and was tenderly nursed. On coming to the scratch, however, he planted his left on Caunt’s carcase, and slipped down.

82.—​Caunt led off. Bendy retreated to the ropes, and fell backwards stopping, but instantly jumped up to recommence hostilities, when Caunt literally ran away across the ring, with his head down, Bendigo after him, hitting him on the back of his neck. At length Caunt reached his corner, and in the scramble which followed, and in which Caunt seemed to have lost his presence of mind, both went down, amidst contemptuous shouts at the imputed pusillanimity of the Champion.

83.—​Bendy, on the retreat, hit up; Caunt returned the compliment on Bendy’s mouth with his left, and on Bendy attempting to get down he caught him round the neck with undiminished strength, pulled him up, threw him over, and fell heavily on him.

84.—​Bendy, on being lifted on his second’s knee, showed blood from the mouth, and was certainly shaken by the last fall; still he came up boldly, but cautiously. Caunt rattled to him left and right, but he retreated towards the stake, which Caunt caught with his right as he let fly at him, and Bendy slipped down, receiving a body tap as he fell.

85.—​Caunt rushed to his man, but Bendy, on his attempting to close, got down, unwilling to risk another heavy fall. He was obviously getting fatigued from his exertions and the excessive heat of the sun.

The uproar was now greater than ever; the referee was driven into the ring,[8] and the roaring and bawling in favour of Bendigo and in contempt of Caunt were beyond description. We [Ed. Bell’s Life] were overwhelmed again and again, and were with difficulty extracted from a pyramid of our fellow-men by the welcome aid of Jack Macdonald, our togs torn, and our tile quite shocking. The exertions of Jem Ward and others enabled them to restore the referee to his position, but he was evidently in a twitter, and the whips and sticks often reached within an inch of his “castor,” while they fell heavily on the nobs of some of his neighbours. Several “Corinthians,” who endeavoured to brave the storm, were involved in the general mêlée, and had sufficient reason to be disgusted with the conduct of the parties towards whom they are always disposed to vouchsafe their patronage, and who, as we have already said, with few exceptions, looked on inactive. [These observations are coloured, and form part of the “manipulation” undergone by the “report,” as revised under the suggestions and supervision of the Caunt and Spring party. The ruin of their confident hopes was impending.—​Ed.]

86.—​The Nottingham hero came up nothing daunted, but with an evident determination to continue to play the old soldier. Caunt, as usual, evinced a desire to get to his opponent, but the latter jumped away, and waiting his opportunity threw in his left heavily on the big’un’s eye, and, in escaping from the retort, slipped down.

87.—​Caunt, although so repeatedly hit, came up as fresh and strong as ever (?) He was incapable, however, of parrying the cunning dodges of Bendy, who again gave him a stinging rap on the cheek, and, staggering back, fell, amidst cries of “Foul,” and appeals from Caunt’s friends to the referee; but in the din which prevailed no decision was obtained. [They were both fencing for “time,” and told by the Squire to “go on.”—​Ed. “Pugilistica.”]

88.—​Two hours had now elapsed, and still there was no apparent approximation towards a termination of the combat, while the confusion which prevailed round the ring prevented anything like a dispassionate criticism of the operations within. Bendy came up slowly, while Caunt was evidently disposed to annihilate him, as indeed his formidable fists induced every one to believe he would have done long before, but Bendy prudently kept out of distance until a slight opening in the guard of Caunt enabled him to jump in and deliver his left twice in succession, on effecting which he slipped down, and looked up with a triumphant leer at the mystified Champion.

89.—​Bendy again made himself up for mischief, and, cleverly avoiding Caunt’s attempt to reach him left and right, delivered a heavy hit with his right on the Champion’s ribs, which was distinctly heard amidst the row; after which he dropped, and Caunt retired to the corner.

90.—​A close, and struggle for the fall, which Caunt easily obtained, falling heavily on his adversary, and his knee again happily escaped pressure on a vital part. From Bendy’s shifty tactics it was impossible for Caunt to avoid falling as he did. It, however, led to a fresh appeal by Johnny Hannan, on the part of Bendigo, and a contradiction by Molyneux on the part of Caunt. The umpires disagreed, and the question having been put to the referee, amidst a horrible outcry raised by both parties, he decided “Fair,” declaring that there was nothing intentional on the part of Caunt.

91.—​A scrambling round. A close, in which, after having delivered his left, Bendy contrived to get down, amidst fresh cries of “Foul,” “Fair.”

92.—​Exchanges of hits with the left, when Bendy, stooping to avoid the repetition of Caunt’s blow, as he was going down struck Caunt below the waistband and near the bottom of his stomach. Bendy fell on his back at the moment, while Caunt dropped his hands upon the place affected, and fell as if in great pain. An indescribable scene of turmoil ensued; shouts of “Foul” and “Fair” escaped from “a thousand tongues—​a thousand pair of iron lungs,” many evidently influenced by their desires and not their convictions. There is no doubt that the blow, according to the rules of the Ring, was foul; but that it was intentional we cannot say, as it was struck when Bendy was in the act of falling. At last the umpires, disagreeing, made the customary appeal to the referee, who, almost deafened by the roaring of the multitude, finally said he had not seen the blow, and consequently could not pronounce it foul.[9] The seconds immediately returned to their principals, and the latter, time being called, commenced the

93rd and last round.—​The men were quickly at the scratch, and Caunt commenced operating left and right, catching Bendy slightly on the forehead. Bendigo was forced back upon the ropes almost in a recumbent position, but got up and was again knocked down, and Caunt turned from him, considering the round had concluded. Bendy, however, awake to every chance of administering punishment, jumped up as he had done before, and rushing after Caunt, who was half turned from him, was about to let fly, when Caunt dropped on his nether end, evidently disinclined to renew or continue that round.[10] And now a final, and, as it turned out, a decisive appeal was made to the referee (not by the umpires, but by Jem Ward, Hannan, and others), who, with very little hesitation, pronounced the fatal word “Foul,” declaring that he considered Caunt had deliberately violated the rules of the Ring by going down without a blow, and had therefore lost the fight. This verdict was hailed with the loudest vociferations by the roughs, and Bendy, without further delay, was borne off the scene of his unexpected triumph by his partisans, and carried to his carriage amidst reiterated acclamations. So sudden was this issue to the affair that thousands were for some time unable to discover who was the real victor, many imagining that the foul blow in the previous round had led to the decision being against Bendigo. It was only by those immediately contiguous to the ring that the true state of the case was known; and the mortification and disappointment of the friends of Caunt, who stood up immediately afterwards to renew the fight, were beyond description. Caunt himself, as well as Spring and his seconds, was incredulous as to the result, but personal application to the referee, who had escaped from the rabble, left no doubt on the subject. He declared “he had seen Caunt go down without a blow, and that upon his conviction of the unfairness of such conduct, he had pronounced against him.” Spring remarked that there had been clearly an exchange of blows; that to all appearance the round had been finished; and that when Caunt went down he did so from a determination not to be taken by surprise or to renew the struggle till “time” was again called. The referee said, in answer, he was not aware of this fact, nor had such a representation been made to him. He judged from what he saw in the overwhelming difficulties in which he was placed, and he had given his decision accordingly. He had been chosen referee by both parties, and he had accepted the office against his own inclination. In discharging his duty he had done so impartially to the best of his abilities, and certainly had no bias in favour of one man or the other. What he had said could not now be recalled, and therefore the business was at an end. We must here repeat that the umpires were not consulted, nor did they express any difference of opinion. It was the duty of the referee to have withheld his decision till properly appealed to, not by the interested partisans, but by the appointed officials, who were on the other side of the ring from him, and could hold no immediate communication with him. He ought to have been placed between those persons. He was clearly bullied and hurried into a premature judgment. Had he been allowed to reflect, we are persuaded he would have hesitated in pronouncing a fiat which the state of Bendigo rendered almost indispensable to his success.

The time occupied by “the battle,” such as it was, according to our watch, when we could venture to have a peep at it, was two hours and ten minutes. We do not intend to speak to a minute, nor is a minute more or less important on this occasion, few bets having been made on “time,” and those certainly not having reference to so long a period as that recorded. We heard that long odds were taken that Caunt won in half an hour, and others that Bendy would not be licked, if at all, in one hour, and these are of course settled by the issue of the fight, as well as the first blood and first knock-down blow, both of which were properly booked to Bendy. On Bendy reaching his carriage, we are informed he was dreadfully exhausted from the repetition of heavy falls to which he had been exposed, as well as his own continued exertions under a broiling sun; but his punishment being of comparatively a trifling description, he soon recovered on the application of proper restoratives. The only perceptible marks of the visitations of Caunt to his cranium were a cut over his right eye, a few contusions of the cheek, mouth, scalp, and forehead, and a little enlargement of his auricular organ. He was quickly conveyed from the ground to his “quarters,” both he and his friends highly elated at the result of their operations. Caunt, on quitting the arena, although displaying convincing marks of the severity with which his opponent could use his mawleys, was strong on his legs, but dreadfully mortified at having been thus suddenly stripped of his laurels, and deprived of the proud distinction which he had so long held. Spring, who had throughout acted as his fidus Achates, was not less mentally depressed; he was “dead beat,” not only from his incessant exertions to procure “fair play” throughout the fight and the cowardly assaults to which he was exposed, but from a perfect conviction that the decision against his man was not only premature, but utterly opposed to the rules of the Ring. He lost no time in returning with Caunt to the Cock, at Stony Stratford, and the great event of the day having been concluded, the immense multitude followed suit. The scenes exhibited on the road home were of the most extraordinary description. Every house of entertainment was besieged, and the call for swizzle so continuous that many of the best-filled cellars were exhausted, and even water at last became an acceptable luxury to those who never pretended to be patrons of the hydropathic system. We have neither time nor space however to dwell on these vicissitudes, and shall proceed at once to offer such general observations as the events of the day seem to warrant.

Remarks.—​Upon the character of “the Great Fight for the Championship of England,” we have no doubt our readers have formed their own opinions. During the last thirty years it has been our fate to witness almost every important battle in the P.R., but we confess, although we have occasionally had to record transactions of the most discreditable description, and to administer castigation to wrong-doers in no measured terms, the proceedings on Tuesday far exceed in enormity anything we had before witnessed.

With regard to the pretensions of the two men who took so prominent a part in the day’s proceedings, few remarks are necessary. Caunt, although a big man, and possessed of great physical strength, does not possess the attributes of an accomplished boxer. He is deficient in science, and wants the art of using the gifts of nature with that tact and precision which are calculated to ensure success. There was a wildness and indecision in his deliveries which prevented his doing execution, and the major part of his blows either flew over Bendigo’s head or were short or wide of their destination. Had he been steady and self-possessed, and hitting at points, this would not have been the case, and did he understand the perfect art of self-defence, four-fifths of the punishment he received might have been avoided; but he left himself open to attack, and thus his opponent was enabled to plant on him with stinging severity. With a man of his own bulk the case might have been different; and perhaps there are few if any of the present day who would prove superior to him in fair fighting.

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