Round 1.—Boshell looked compact and well, but the remains of a small blister appeared on his lower ribs. Davis was as fine as could be wished, and smiled as if confident of success. The attitude and manner of Boshell soon convinced the amateurs that science was not his forte. Davis tapped him on the arm and got away; ditto and ditto; some little sparring; when Davis let fly, and a sharp facer was the result. Two or three awkward exchanges occurred, and Boshell planted a heavy body hit. They fought into a close, and, after some little struggling, Davis was thrown, and undermost. (Seven to four, and two to one was loudly offered on Davis.)
2.—The Bristol Boy soon put in a facer, that not only drew the pink, but seemed like an electric shock on the upper works of poor Paddy. Some awkward blows again passed. The Irishman got the throw. (Three to one upon Davis.)
3.—Davis, with his left hand, put one of Paddy’s eyes into mourning. Boshell, however, made some good stops, but he had not a single point towards finishing a round well. Davis was again undermost. (All betters; and “It will soon be over,” was the cry.)
4.—Boshell showed himself as game a bit of stuff as ever peeled in this round. The hitting was sharp on both sides, but Davis got away, and Boshell, in following him, received one of the Bristol Boy’s lunging hits on the nose, when he instantly fell on his face, the claret flowing rapidly. (“It’s all up now; he can’t fight two more rounds.” Oliver offered five to one on the last event, and twenty to one he lost the battle.)
5.—Boshell came up distressed, but game as a Purcell, and endeavoured to lash out. He was, however, milled all over the ring, and fell at the ropes, rolling over on his face exhausted.
6.—The mug of Paddy was a picture of punishment; both his eyes damaged and his face altogether changed. Fresh milling was added, but he nevertheless threw Davis.
7.—This was a sharp round. Boshell went down exhausted. (“It’s poundable—take him away.”)
8.—The claret was now trickling down the nose of Davis. After some heavy exchanges they broke from a close, and Boshell fought till he fell on his knees, and caught hold of the ropes distressed.
9.—Davis winked to his friends that it was all right, and planted three facers in succession. Boshell, however, showed the fight was not taken out of him, and again threw his opponent a heavy fall. (“Bravo, Boshell, you are a game fellow!”)
10.—The face of the Irishman was piteous. Boshell went down.
11.—In struggling for the throw, Davis slipped on his knees. This was thought unhandsome; but Boshell held up his hands, not to hit him foul. (“Bravo!” from all parts of the ring.)
12.—Boshell endeavoured to make some hits, but went down exhausted.
13.—Boshell was floored like a shot, from a tremendous lunging blow on his nob. (Any odds.)
14.—Boshell, groggy, was hit down, but in falling he caught the ropes.
15.—Boshell came up staggering, and soon went down. Time was called, and it was thought he had given up. Davis’s hat was thrown into the air, and the outer ring broken.
16.—Boshell said he was not done, and another round took place, but he was hit down. Paddy was, however, so game, he declared he would not say “No.” He had no chance, and was taken away. Davis, elated with his success, jumped over the ropes out of the ring, without a scratch. It was over in fifteen minutes and ten seconds.
Remarks.—If any remarks can be made, a few words will suffice. Boshell is a game, a very game man, and his courage was the admiration of the ring; but as a fighter has no pretensions. Indeed he was little more than a plaything in the scientific hands of Davis.
At Spring’s benefit at the Fives Court, on Tuesday, November 2, 1819, our hero made a considerable impression upon the minds of the amateurs, by the display of science in a set-to with the Nonpareil. Upon the appearance of Randall, followed by Cy. Davis, the audience seemed extremely anxious for the set-to. The confidence of the “Bristol Boy” astonished all; he exhibited considerable improvement. In fact, with the gloves, the Nonpareil never met such a successful opponent before. Davis did not get off without a good receipt of Randall’s talents; nevertheless, the former put in two or three dexterous facers and made some fine stops. The fanciers were all alive; the Court rang with applause. It was generally admitted that the advantage was on the side of Davis. Upon pulling off the gloves another round was called for and complied with. Both the combatants were now upon the alert, and it was a fine specimen of skill and courage. A well-contested long rally occurred, and Davis again acquitted himself in such good style as to raise his character in the sporting world.
Davis felt so much mortified at his defeat by Turner that he was often heard to say that he should never feel satisfied until he had the chance at least of a second trial with his brave opponent. This feeling accounts in some measure for his not showing in the prize ring, or figuring in the “gag” correspondence and boxing challenges then so much in vogue in the “sporting” press. However, somebody made some letters for him about fights with Gipsy Cooper, Phil. Sampson, and Turner, which Pierce Egan prints with the curious foot-note, “This letter was a hoax!” (“Boxiana,” vol iv., p. 166.)
On the second match being made, at the Castle Tavern, Holborn, between Turner and Cy. Davis for £100 a-side, the following remarks appeared in the Weekly Dispatch:—
“Davis is decidedly the favourite five to four, and in a few instances, for small sums, six to four is betted. It is nearly four years since, June 18, 1819, at Wallingham Common, that Davis was defeated by Turner in thirty-two rounds, forty-five minutes. Turner also defeated Martin in forty rounds, one hour and seven minutes, October 26, 1819; but since that period Ned has in turn surrendered to Martin. Davis won with Boshell, August 24, 1819, in sixteen rounds, fifteen minutes and ten seconds. This might be termed no match. The most important point taken into consideration by the sporting men in this battle is the modes of life pursued by the combatants for the last three years. Davis has lived regularly, and added to the good effects of training; he is as fresh as a ‘four year old,’ ‘fine as a star,’ and as confident of victory as if the battle was over. Would we could say so much for ‘poor Ould Ned;’ indeed, a few months since an opinion was entertained by the supporters of pugilism that Turner was more likely to make his exit than to show again in the prize ring. However, Ned laughs at these remarks, and asserts he is quite well.”
The fight took place at Harpenden Common, twenty-five miles from London, and four from St. Alban’s, on Tuesday, February 18, 1823.
On the Monday night previous to the battle, the Castle Tavern, although overflowing with company, was a blank as to betting. This sort of silence on a night previous to a mill occasioned one of the most respectable ring goers, and a sound sporting man for the previous twenty-five years, to observe sarcastically—“It was a square fight between Turner and Davis, which accounted for chaffing instead of betting. Ready made luck,” said he, “is wanting, and therefore a certain Bet of people will not chance a crown without the office ‘to a certainty’ is to be had in private. Nevertheless, I am glad of it,” concluded the wag, “it will bring the prize ring back to the good old times (although ‘honesty is a ragged virtue’), when such men as the late Colonel Mellish and Fletcher Reid brought their men into the ring, exclaiming, without fear of anything being attempted on the part of the boxers to do wrong, ‘I’ll bet 600 to 400.’”
The weather on Tuesday morning was rather inauspicious to a long journey, yet it did not prevent the thorough-bred ones from starting for the scene of action. At one o’clock Cy. Davis threw up his castor, followed by Richmond and Harmer as his seconds. Turner, close at his heels, arm-in-arm with the President of the Daffy Club, followed his example, attended by Tom Cribb and Josh. Hudson. Five to four on Davis. Cy., smiling, went up and shook hands with Ned. The colours, blue for Turner and yellow for Davis were tied to the stakes by Cribb and Richmond.
Round 1.—The condition of Cy. was beautiful in the extreme; he was a perfect picture of a man in fine health. Turner, although not up to the above mark, was, nevertheless, well patched up as to the look of the thing. The skin of Davis was transparent, ruddy, and healthful, while Turner’s exhibited a yellowish hue. Both extremely cautious; and the great difficulty of getting at the Old One prevented Cy. from making play. Turner, at length, let fly, and put in a slight hit on the body with his left hand. More dodging. Turner stopped the right of his opponent well; both extremely active on their legs. Turner put in another bodier; some exchanges, but of no consequence. Cy. tried to put in his favourite blow with his right hand, but was again stopped. Cy., somewhat tired, put down his hands for an instant, but Ned took no notice of it. Exchange of blows at the ropes: a struggle for the throw; both down, but Cy. undermost. This round occupied six minutes; and the friends of Turner shouted, and said, “it was all right, the Old One behaves well.”
2.—Turner missed a well-meant left-handed blow at the body. Neither of them eager to go to work, both anticipating danger. The right hand of Cy. told, after a few exchanges, and Turner went down. (A shout for Davis from the Bristolians.)
3.—Although in such fine condition, Davis was piping a little, and Turner kept hitting at the body. Some exchanges took place, but the blows were light on both sides. Owing to the slippery state of the ground, Turner went down from a slight hit.
4.—It had been expected that three rounds would not have passed over without some mischief, nevertheless this was a good round. Cy. smiled with confidence, and made himself up to do severe execution with his right, but Turner, with considerable skill, stopped him. Nothing done yet, and in a struggle both went down.
5.—Whether it was from partiality to the Old One or not, the friends of Turner urged he had none the worst of it; in fact, no severity of punishment had passed on either side. In closing, Turner had the best of the fibbing, and Cy. showed first blood. Davis got the throw cleverly, and Turner was undermost.
6.—The left hand of Davis seemed of no use to him, except, after the manner of the late Gas-light-Man, to hold his opponent. Some good fighting occurred in this round, and the finish of it was to the advantage of Cy., who fell heavily on Turner. (Seven to four.)
7.—Turner placed many of his blows well; but the strength of his hitting, which on former occasions appeared prominent, seemed to have left him. The great forte of Davis was to put in his right hand; and had not Turner stopped it often, the fight would soon have been at an end. Turner again had the best of the fibbing, and Cy. was undermost. (Several of the partizans of Turner began now to flatter themselves that victory was within his reach. Loud shouting, “Turner for ever!”)
8.—If Davis had commenced play, and fought with both hands, another tale must have been told. However, in this round, some severe execution was done. Turner’s left hand drew the claret from Cy.’s nose and mouth, and he appeared for the instant a little abroad; he also received a heavy body blow, but recovered and sent down Turner with a right-handed hit on the head. (“It’s all over,” from the cutting tribe of Newgate-market. “You have won it, Davis.” Two to one.)
9.—The friends of Turner began to quake a little, recollecting the almost finishing blow Ned received in his last round. This hit took a little of the fight out of Turner, and he came up bleeding and weak to the scratch, but his game did wonders for him. Davis now went to work a little. Turner, game as a pebble, returned hit for hit, till he fell exhausted. While on his second’s knee, Randall, Holt, Curtis, &c., gave the Old One advice gratis, how he should act, so anxious did they feel for his success.
10.—Ned came to the scratch like a high-couraged man, determined to strain every nerve for victory, although the chance was against him. He, however, had no idea of losing at this stage of the battle. Yet the patch-work began to peep, and the effects of premature age could not be hid. Turner received a bodier that sent him down. (The backers of Davis now booked it as safe, and inspired their hero with shouts of approbation.)
11.—Davis commenced fighting, and planted a severe hit with his right hand on the body of his opponent. Turner, however, stood up and exchanged hit for hit, till a pause was necessary on both sides. Cy. was weak in turn, and kept sparring for wind, yet smiling at his opponent. Turner’s left ear was bleeding from a severe hit, and in following Cyrus he slipped, or went down from a slight hit. The truth could no longer be hid; Turner was going every round; he fought like a man; but the stamina was wanting.
12.—On the part of Turner this was an excellent fighting round. In spite of his distress, his stops were so excellent as to claim applause from all parts of the ring. Cy. also exhibited fine science. Hit for hit, but the hardest blows were in favour of Davis, and Ned kept up the game till he fell, overcome with fatigue.
13.—Turner was equal to his adversary in milling; but there was no comparison between the effect of their blows. They followed each other over the ring, exchanging hits in the most manly style, till an accession of wind was necessary on both sides. At the ropes a struggle took place, and in going down, Turner uppermost. (“Well done both,” from all parties.)
14.—Cy. made a blow with his right hand at the body, but it fell rather low. “Come,” says Josh., “fight fair; recollect you are to hit above the waistband.” A good round, but Turner down exhausted. (Ten to two. Several of the fighting men came to the ropes, and in their anxiety for his winning, gave Ned hints what to do.)
15.—Cy. had decidedly the best of the hitting in this round; he also threw Turner and fell on him heavily. This fall shook poor Ned, and he was placed on the knee of his second with difficulty. In fact, it won the battle. (Any odds.)
16.—Tom Belcher observed to Davis—“Why not use both of your hands?” Here Hudson said that Belcher had no business to interfere, it was unfair. “It was not my intention to have said a single word,” replied Tom, “if I had not seen so many fighting men breaking in the ring, and, like Trueman’s cocks, all on one side. I have not one farthing on the battle; all I want is fair play.” Cy. took Belcher’s hint, but Turner opposed him gamely till down.
17.—The Old One, good to the last, exchanged blow for blow till he was hit down.
18.—On coming to the scratch, Cy. immediately went to work with his right hand, met Turner in the body, and sent him down in a twinkling. The President of the Daffies (under whose direction Turner was brought into the ring) humanely stepped forward, and said, “he should not fight any more.” He (the President) would not stand by and see one of the bravest men of the ring wantonly cut up, when he had no chance. It was over in thirty-five minutes. Davis shook hands with Turner, gave a jump, huzzaed for joy, and left the ring.
Remarks.—However ill-natured it may appear, the truth is that Turner has no one to blame but himself,—he was in no condition to fight. A boxer, like a general, if he wishes to prove successful, ought always to be prepared for his enemy. Turner admits, with great candour, that he could not have fought another round. He was not defeated by the blows he received, but he attributes his defeat to fatigue and exhaustion, Nature having refused to second his mind. It was but the shadow of that Ned Turner who defeated the terror of the ring, Scroggins, twice; who fought with Randall for two hours and twenty-two minutes; and obtained a victory over the Master of the Rolls. It was, nevertheless, a brave, good fight on both sides; and it is but doing common justice to Davis, to state that his conduct was manly and interesting to the spectator. Cy. also fought under great disadvantage and pain. After the seventh round, his right hand went, and was much swelled. Davis possesses in his person the finest requisites for a fighting man. Mr. Jackson not being present, we are sorry to say not a shilling was subscribed for Turner. Davis was not hurt.
The above victory proved rather a dear triumph to Davis: he was disabled from appearing again in the prize ring. The fore-finger of his right hand met with so serious an injury, from the knuckle coming in contact with Turner’s teeth, that, after baffling the most skilful surgeons for a considerable time, Davis was ultimately compelled to submit to an operation which deprived him of his index finger. With this battle his fistic career closed. Not so his public life. Cy. was for many years a publican, but no more of a sinner than his neighbours. He died on the 8th of March, 1846, aged 51, at the house of his son, the White Bear, Kennington Common (now Kennington Park), of disease of the heart, and lies buried in the churchyard of St. Mark in that parish.
Peace Inglis, known among his companions as “the Mattress Maker,” was a smart young fellow of five feet eight inches, weighing ten stone four pounds. His first appearance in the ring was with Hamilton, the waterman, for 20 guineas, at Moulsey, on the 22nd of October, 1822. On this occasion, Josh. Hudson, who had taken Hamilton, a “below-bridge man,” under his wing, seconded his protegé, Paddington Jones looking after Inglis. It was a brave battle on both sides for forty-two minutes, when Inglis was hailed as conqueror.
The young aspirant’s first essay had so much surpassed the expectations of his backers that he was matched against Bill Davis (Deaf Davis), a well-known good man, and the battle came off at Harpenden Common, near St. Alban’s, February 18, 1823, in the same ring in which Cy. Davis (see ante) had defeated Ned Turner. On this occasion, Josh., dissatisfied with the defeat of Hamilton, seconded Davis, having with him Jack Scroggins and the east end division. Inglis was attended on by Jem Ward (then rising into fame, having beaten Ned Baldwin a fortnight previous) and a friend named Rogers. The watch was held by an amateur.
Round 1.—The Deaf ’un had scarcely put himself into attitude, when in he went like a hammer-man at an anvil, gave his opponent a smash in the middle of the head, and floored him like a shot. (Six to four on Davis. “Where’s your clever fighter?”)
2.—The “feather-bed” hero proved himself to have no soft place about him. He stood up manfully, but received three facers in succession, was nobbed over the ring, and fell covered with claret. (Two to one on Davis.)
3.—Inglis came gamely up, when Davis once more punished him, and he turned his back on his opponent, set off running, and was only stopped by the ropes. Here Davis caught his adversary, and once more levelled him. (A guinea to a shilling was offered, but no takers; and “Take him away,” from all parts of the ring; “he will be killed.”)
4.—Contrary to all expectation, the feather-bed maker was not so “soft” as he appeared to be; he met Davis like a trump, hit out straight with both hands, and, after a desperate rally, Davis was hit down almost senseless.
5.—Inglis had now got the turn. He put a new face on Davis, milled him from one side of the ring to the other, and levelled the deaf one with his native dust.
6.—Davis, relying on strength, was determined not to be “told out.” He again took the lead, and nobbed the feather-bed hero, when Inglis, by a flush hit, sent him down. It was not quite a finisher, but it found out the condition of Davis. (Inglis was now the favourite.)
7.—This round was “portrait-painting” with a vengeance. A rally took place, in which Davis received a severe cut over the left eye, and was floored again. (Any odds. “Feathers for a trifle.”)
8 and last.—Such fighting as was seen in the above seven rounds, and hitting in the right places, must always produce short fights. Davis exerted himself in returning hit for hit, till another floorer put an end to the battle. On time being called, Davis observed to his second, “that he could not stand.” It was all over in twelve minutes.
Remarks.—Such a cutting-up had not been witnessed for a long time. In the exultation of the moment the friends of Inglis challenged Dick Curtis. Inglis was about ten stone. Dick replied he would not refuse the challenge. Davis was carried out of the ring. He was too stale for a young opponent.
Inglis, from his brave conduct in the fight with Davis, was next matched against George Curtis, the brother of the Pet, for £50 a-side.
Moulsey Hurst, on Tuesday, August 12, 1823, was again the scene of attraction. The umpires and referee were chosen, and, at one o’clock, George Curtis threw his hat into the ring, attended by Josh. Hudson and Harry Holt. Inglis, followed by Paddington Jones and Neale, also threw up his beaver. He was the favourite at five to four.
Round 1.—Curtis exhibited much activity on his pins, and, on peeling, displayed a more muscular frame than had been anticipated. His face was pale, his nob looked like a milling one, and altogether had a great resemblance to that of the Pet. Inglis was as well as he could be—a wiry strong young man, the taller of the two, and appeared to stand over his opponent. The attitudes of the men on setting-to were interesting. Inglis was in no hurry to proceed to blows; and Curtis, as a novice, deliberated before he went to work. George made an attempt with his left hand, but it told slightly. This movement led to an exchange of hits, yet nothing was the matter. A long pause. Curtis retreated from some heavy blows; Inglis, however, planted a severe nobber. “I’ll bet £100 to a tizzy,” said Paddington Jones, “it’s as right as the day; we shall win the fight.” “Walker! hookey!” replied Josh. The left hand of George told smartly on Inglis’s body; and, after some cut-and-come-again work at the ropes, in struggling for the throw, both went down, Curtis undermost. (Six and seven to four on Inglis.)
2.—The left eve of Curtis was winking. Inglis, on the alert, planted a hit; an exchange of blows. Curtis again felt for his adversary’s body. Inglis missed a well-meant blow for his opponent’s nob; he, however, tried it again, but George stopped him with great skill. (“Bravo, Georgy!” from his pals.) A pause. After some little time, both combatants made themselves up to do mischief, and, on getting within each other’s reach, they let fly, which produced the claret. (“First blood,” exclaimed Josh. and Jones at the same instant. “Upon my honour, it appeared first on your side,” said Josh., “and I hope you will not dispute the honour of the John Bull fighter, my Tommy!” It was rather a doubtful point at the moment.) Curtis went down weak.
3.—Inglis, to the astonishment of the spectators, did not fight first, and a long pause ensued. Curtis commenced milling on the retreat, and the feather-bed hero napped three nasty ones on his index. Another stand-still for a minute, looking at each other. Inglis stopped well, when the combatants got into a sharp rally at the ropes. In struggling for the throw, Inglis got his opponent upon the ropes; and, in this situation, Curtis received pepper until he went down exhausted. (“It’s all over. I’ll bet ten to one that Curtis can’t fight two more rounds,” was repeated by the betting men round the ring.)
4.—The left eye of George was nearly closed; but when time was called he showed himself at the scratch. Although the advantage was now decidedly in Inglis’s favour he did not commence fighting; and Curtis, recovering his wind, made play with his left hand, and had none the worst of it. This was altogether a milling round. Curtis threw his opponent. (Thunders of applause from the Bermondsey boys.)
5.—It was no secret to the spectators that Curtis at this period of the battle was the weaker man; but his coolness was the admiration of all present. Some good hitting and stopping were displayed on both sides. Curtis planted a rum one on the feather-bed’s throat that made him gasp for breath. Inglis also received three or four nobbers that stopped his exertions; but at the ropes he had the best of it, and punished Curtis down.
6.—This round was a fine display of manhood; punishment on both sides all over the ring. Inglis got Curtis on the ropes, and was pelting him with divers blows in sundry places, when, by an extraordinary effort, Curtis broke away, put in a facer, and drove his opponent to the opposite side of the ring, where he held Inglis for a short time at the ropes, and then sent him down. (The applause for Curtis was loud.)
7.—Short, but full of mischief. Curtis received a heavy fall on his back, which shook him sadly and added to his exhausted state.
8.—Another short round, but rather dangerous to Inglis. In struggling for the throw, Curtis went down. “Foul! foul!” The ring was broken: it was asserted Inglis had caught hold of his opponent’s thigh in a way not allowed by the laws of boxing.
9.—The right hand of Curtis was open; he, nevertheless, had decidedly the best of the hitting in this round till Inglis bored him down out of the ropes.
10.—The game which had been so conspicuously displayed by George induced many of his backers to stick to him. Inglis, with all his strength, did not take the lead of Curtis as was expected. In fact, George, in most instances, had the best of the milling; but, in finishing the round, Inglis generally had the advantage. (Two to one.)
11.—This round was truly an out-and-out one on both sides. Curtis vindicated the pedigree of his race for “bottom, bone, blood.” It would be detracting from Inglis to withhold from him that he showed himself as high-couraged and game as his brave adversary. It was hit for hit all over the ring—backwards and forwards, in and out of the corners, and round about, till the combatants were at a stand-still. To it again like true Britons, till nature could no longer assist their minds. At the ropes they were both so exhausted as to take hold of each other and push each other down, Inglis uppermost. (Applause. “Here’s a round for you!” “Why, they are both East-nders,” said Josh., “and that accounts for it. We can get nothing among the coves of the West, so we are obliged to fight amongst our own breed.”)
12.—Curtis threw his opponent.
13.—Inglis received several blows on his nob, and at times was much distressed. If he had not been a very game man he would have cut it. Curtis endeavoured to keep the lead, and fought till he fell exhausted. “Take him away, Josh.; he can’t win it,” said a patron of the P. R.; “it is a pity to witness so game a man cut to pieces.” Curtis, while sitting on the knee of his second, overheard the above remark, and he answered, “I will not be taken away; I am sure I shall not lose it; I will not lose it.”
14.—Curtis was so determined that to say “No” never entered his mind. After an exchange of blows Curtis received a severe fall. “Take him away,” from all parts of the ring. (Any odds upon Inglis.) George said he would not give it in.
15 and last.—Curtis planted a blow on his opponent’s throat; but it was too feeble to do much mischief. In a short rally Curtis was hit down, when “the Pet”[170] threw up his hat, and declared George should not fight any more. It was over in fifty-five minutes. Inglis went up to Curtis, and shook hands with him.
Remarks.—If Curtis had been as fresh as his opponent a different tale might have been told. He fought like a brave man; and, although he could not achieve victory, he obtained a high character in the pugilistic circles. George was overmatched; indeed, any boxer who wishes to have a turn with Inglis, will find plenty of work cut out for him before the battle is at an end. Curtis was taken out of the ring by his brother, and exhibited severe marks of punishment. The nob of Inglis did not show much beating; but he received many hard blows during the fight. Four pounds were collected on the ground for Curtis.
Peace Inglis now stood so high in the estimation of his friends, that he challenged Harry Holt for £100 a-side; but a match being made on the spur of the moment with the brave Ned Turner, for £100 a-side, the fight with Holt went off. After a considerable time allowed for the training of Turner, the above match was decided at Colnbrook, seventeen miles and a half from London, on Tuesday, April 26, 1824.
The road was lively, but not thronged with company as heretofore; in fact, it was more select than usual. When “Time” was called, Turner walked coolly into the ring, followed by Josh. Hudson and Paddington Jones. He was well received by the crowd, like an old performer returning to play a favourite part. Some little delay occurred, when the John Bull boxer roared out, “Come, you Inglis! Where are you? Don’t you like it? We are ready.” Inglis appeared immediately, waited upon by Maurice Delay and Dan M’Kenzie, and threw his hat into the ring. The colours, light blue for Inglis and dark blue for Turner, were tied to the stakes. Everything being adjusted according to custom, the men stood up for
Round 1.—Turner looked better than was expected; his face was tanned with the sun, and his legs appeared firm and round. His eye was bright, his countenance serene and placid, and the invigorating breezes of the Welsh mountains, where he had been training, had imparted vigour to his limbs. The heart, too, that just and indispensable attribute of a boxer, was sound, and Ned declared himself confident of victory. His opponent must not be passed slightly over. He is one of the bravest of the brave men belonging to the prize ring. The contrast between the combatants was striking. The youthful Inglis was a model; fine as a star, strong as a lion, game as a pebble, and confident as a Randall. The odds were decidedly in favour of Inglis, £20 to £30. Turner and Inglis are in attitude, and on the look out for the first blow. The superiority as to knowledge of fighting was conspicuous on the part of Ned, who let fly his left teazer, which told heavily on Inglis’s bread-basket. One or two stops occurred, when the left hand of Ned operated so sharply on the throat of the young one that he went down like a shot. (An artillery report of applause for Turner.)
2.—The mark of Turner’s fist on the throat of his opponent was visible to every spectator. Inglis tried to do something, but the Old One was too clever to be caught napping. Turner made both his right and left hand tell on Inglis’s nob. An exchange of blows to the advantage of Ned. The young one had two more “nasty hits” on the mouth, as Josh. termed them, at the same time exclaiming, “First blood! My eye, what a hobble you have got into, my covey.” Turner again planted two left-handed blows, and immediately afterwards put in a severe one, two. Inglis was now bleeding from his mouth. Turner made another hit. “Talk of Old Ones,” said Josh.; “is there anything like the good Old Ones?” An exchange of blows, but Inglis did no execution. The latter received another terrible hit on his mouth. Inglis did not know what to do with his adversary. A pause. “I’ll bet fifty to twenty,” said Randall. Turner’s left hand repeated the dose. In closing, Turner had decidedly the best of it. Inglis’s face bleeding in all parts of it. Both down, but the Old One undermost.
3.—Short. Turner’s left hand told, but he slipped down in endeavouring to make a hit.
4.—Inglis was piping a little, but not at all dismayed. He was a complete receiver-general; he would have returned many favours, but Turner did not accept them. This was a good round, yet Turner went down weak.
5 to 10.—The fighting was all on the side of Turner; the taking on the part of Inglis. In all these rounds the superiority of the Old One was evident.
11.—“Come, Scroggins’s ruin,” said Josh., “we are at home; we have won it.” Turner nobbed his opponent with the utmost ease; in fact, he had everything his own way again in this round, but went down rather weak.
12.—Turner again made play right and left with great success; he also stopped Inglis in the most beautiful style of the art. The game of Inglis was, however, so good that he presented himself in the most resolute way, and in a sharp exchange of blows Turner went down. Inglis was nearly falling, but caught by his second. (“Bravo! well done both sides!”)
13.—Turner did as he pleased in regard to hitting; nevertheless, Inglis was not to be got rid of; his youth and stamina were his safeguards. Turner down. (The Bermondsey boys did not know how to express their approbation of Turner’s conduct in terms strong enough.)
14.—Inglis could not plant any effective hits; if his blows could have reached their destination, a change might have soon been witnessed in the fight. Turner’s one, two, was well directed, and he also put in a heavy body blow. The Old One showed weakness and went down.
15.—“If Ned does not tire,” said an old ring-goer, “he must win the battle; but he has too much work to perform.” Inglis could not keep the Old One’s hands out of his face, and appeared rather distressed. Turner down, getting weak.
16.—The superior science displayed by Ned was the admiration of all the spectators. It is true Inglis now and then planted a blow, but it was not of sufficient consequence to reduce the activity of Turner. In closing, Turner got the throw. (A great shout from the Bermondsey lads.)
17.—“A fine old cock this Ned is,” said Josh.; “this is the weather for the old cocks to tip it them.” Inglis was advised to bore in upon Turner, as he was getting weak; but the young one lost ground by this attempt. He was hit away three successive times on the nob; in fact, he stood still for an instant quite confused, but, with game never excelled, he returned to fight till Turner went down.
18.—Inglis rushed in, and bored Ned down.
19.—Inglis repeated this conduct, but Turner stopped the feather-bed hero, by hitting up as he was rushing in. Turner down.
20.—This was a sharp round, but highly important to Turner. Inglis was floored by a tremendous left handed hit on the side of his head. (It is impossible to describe the applause which followed.)
21.—Inglis came to the scratch piping. Turner nobbed his opponent with success, but the strength of the Old One was going. Turner down.
22.—Turner met Inglis in the middle of the head, punished him in all directions, and had he not missed a well-aimed blow, in all probability the fight would have been at an end. Turner went down from exertion.
23.—Nothing. A struggle, and both down without a blow.
24.—Inglis was bleeding copiously; nevertheless, he bored in and received several jobbers, till both down.
25.—Turner planted four successive blows on Inglis’s face; in fact, the Old One had too much work to do. Turner down.
26.—This was a tremendous round on both sides. Inglis, although hit to death nearly, would not be shook off, but kept fighting like a hero till he was thrown. (“What a round! Here’s a fight! Why it is worth going to see, if it had been five hundred miles from London!”)
27.—It appeared to the feather-bed hero that he had no chance to win without boring his opponent, and he rushed in till both went down, Inglis undermost.
28.—This was a tremendous fighting round, and Inglis was hit away three or four times from his opponent. In going down, Inglis fell over Turner.
29.—At the ropes Turner was as good as Inglis, till both down.
30.—Inglis appeared extremely bad, and several of the judges thought Turner must now win. The feather-bed maker was jobbed about his already damaged head, and he slipped down quite weak.
31.—Both down. In the act of giving, the blow alighted on Inglis’s body after he was down. “Foul! foul!” “Fair! fair!” It most certainly was not an intentional foul hit on the part of Turner, and the referee pronounced it so.
32.—The face of Turner appeared little, if any, the worse for fighting. Inglis again napped it as he was boring in to mill. Both down, Inglis undermost.
33.—“The Elephant and Castle is yours,” said Josh., “if you win, Ned.” Inglis was getting a little better, and Turner received more punishment in this round than in any of the preceding ones. Both down.
34.—Nothing. A struggle, and both on the ground.
35 to 38.—In all these rounds the nobbing system was pursued with the greatest success by Turner; and had not Inglis been one of the gamest men that ever pulled a shirt off, he must have been licked long before this period of the battle. But the feather-bed hero would not be denied; and his courage, seconded by his fine stamina, enabled him to continue the battle, under the idea that the Old One could not last. Inglis fell heavily in the ropes on Turner.
39.—It was the astonishment of every person round the ropes to witness Turner take the lead in the superior manner he did over a fine young man, and a boxer who had had some experience in the prize ring, having defeated Deaf Davis and George Curtis. Turner, in order to spoil the boring in of Inglis, hit up; and whenever the Old One caught his nob the claret followed in profusion. Turner went down owing to his great exertions.
40.—This was a terrific round. Inglis would not be denied, although frequently nobbed away. Both down. (Randall, elated with the success of Turner, offered, in the warmth of his heart, £10 to £2. “I will take it,” said Inglis’s brother. Time was called, and the bet was not made.)
41.—The sun at this period was very powerful. Turner appeared languid while sitting on the knee of his second, but when fighting he seemed all energy. Inglis missed a terrific blow that might have brought the battle to a speedy termination. Turner down.
42.—Notwithstanding the state of fatigue which Turner laboured under, and which could not be kept from the spectators, he nobbed Inglis with the utmost ease. The young one was hit to a stand-still, and Turner was too tired to follow him. At the ropes Turner had also the best of it, till both down.
43.—“Go in, Inglis,” from his friends; “you can’t lose if you do.” Inglis took the advice of his friends, and went in, fighting pell-mell, till Turner went down. (Four to one upon the young one.)
44.—This round had nearly decided the battle in favour of Turner. Hit for hit for a short time, when Turner knocked his opponent to a stand-still between the ropes. Turner, resolved not to give half a chance away, came again and planted another heavy nobber in the middle of the feather-bed hero’s nob; but Inglis’s out-and-out game brought him through his trouble, and he fought like a lion till Turner went down. (The approbation bestowed upon Turner was immense. It was also “Bravo, Inglis! your fellow is not to be met with every day in the week.”)
45.—Inglis was determined to reduce the strength of his opponent, and again bored in; but this rush always cost him something, and Turner liberally discharged the account. Both down.
46.—Inglis again napped it in going in, but returned a heavy body hit. Turner fought at every point to win, but his strength could not keep pace with his skill, and he went down exhausted. “Take the good Old One away; if he wins he cannot raise himself higher in the estimation of the fancy,” exclaimed several friends; “the chance is against him.”
47 and last.—This was a well fought round, although both men were distressed. Inglis was, however, a fresh man compared with his opponent. Turner had the best of the milling as usual, but went down worn out. While sitting on the knee of his second several persons requested that he might not fight any more. Harry Holt jumped into the ring, and throwing up his hat, observed, “Permit me, gentlemen, to give in for Turner.” One hour and eighteen minutes had elapsed. Inglis left the ropes, but he instantly returned into the ring to shake hands with those hands which had so liberally distributed punishment only a few seconds previous. We wish sincerely that the inhabitants of all the countries in the world would imitate such a noble example in the moment of victory.
Remarks.—“Othello’s occupation’s gone!” Indeed, Turner may apply to himself the words—
Yes; and we have “seen the day”—that day when Turner overcame the undaunted Scroggins; that day, also, when he stood before the accomplished Randall two hours and twenty minutes; and likewise that day when he conquered Jack Martin. We cannot offer an insult to a brave man, and it is far from our intention even to wound his feelings; but on any of the above days what chance would Inglis have stood with Turner? The fact is, Ned was not licked; he was tired, worn out, and Nature refused to second his efforts. Inglis won the battle fairly, and according to the rules of pugilism. Indeed, the fight was one of the best specimens of milling skill ever witnessed, and the courage displayed by Turner was of the highest order. It is but common justice also to state, that Inglis’s manliness, game, coolness, and honourable conduct throughout the battle placed him high in the list of boxers.
By an unpardonable oversight “Boxiana” (see p. 115, vol. v.) omits at this place all mention of Turner and Inglis’s second battle, on the 9th of November following, and gives an epistolary challenge from Inglis to Turner as being penned “a few weeks after the above battle,” i.e., the first fight, so that Inglis is made to challenge the man he had conquered. The second fight will be found in the memoir of Turner, ante, p. 391. After his defeat Inglis published the following in the Weekly Dispatch:—