In the Memoir of Caunt (ante pp. 60–69) will be found the details of Brassey’s gallant contest with the gigantic Champion, October 26th, 1840. That John Leechman had fair pretentions to be selected by his patrons to do battle with “Big Ben,” the subjoined account of his fight with Young Langan, of Liverpool, in the October of the previous year, will show.
John Leechman, whose height was six feet, and weight 12st. 7lbs., was born at Bradford, in Yorkshire, on the 1st of January, 1815. His first battle, recorded in “Fistiana,” was in 1831, when, at the age of 16, he defeated one Thomas Hartley, at Eccles Moor, near Leeds, after a tough fight of an hour and a quarter. On August 24th, in the same year, he took the same time to batter one Ned Batterson, in 72 rounds. He then fought, at Harpurhey, near Manchester, in May, 1833, Young Winterflood, of Nottingham, for an hour, when the affair ended in a wrangle. Brassey next met the well-known Jem Bailey, at Baildon Moor, and beat him, on the 24th of April, 1835, in 74 rounds, occupying 2 hours and a quarter; Brassey being at the same time sadly out of condition. Tom Scrutton was also disposed of in 20 minutes, 17 rounds, on January 11th, 1836; and this brings us to Brassey’s battle with the eccentric Bendigo. In the memoir of that boxer (ante pp. 7, 8), will be found the particulars of that defeat, which took place near Sheffield, on the 24th of May, 1836. Brassey’s former antagonist, Jem Bailey, now came out, and demanded a second trial, to which Brassey assented, and the men met at Hales Green, near Pulham, Norfolk. Although Brassey had won the fight in the 71st round, through the indecision or misconduct of the referee, Bailey’s backers raised a dispute, sued the stakeholder, and recovered back their money. We now come to the battle with Young Langan, of Liverpool, which, except his defeat by Tass Parker, is Brassey’s only fight worth preserving.
This contest, which was decided on the 8th of October, 1839, at Woodhead, in Cheshire, excited an unusual degree of interest, not only among the friends of each man, but throughout all sporting circles in Yorkshire, Lancashire and the Midlands. Brassey was trained near Norwich, under the personal superintendence of the veteran Ned Painter, who accompanied his pupil to the scene of action. Langan took his exercise at Bootle, near Liverpool, in company with Tommy Britton, and his condition was pronounced “perfect.” The ring was formed by the Liverpool Commissary, and at 25 minutes past one Brassey, accompanied by Bill Hall, and Gregson Green, the “sporting sweep,” as seconds, threw in his hat, and was quickly followed by Young Langan, amidst loud cheering from the Liverpool contingent. The day was magnificent, the sun shining with splendour, and as Langan lost the toss for corners, Brassey was placed with his face to the north. Each man was near upon 13 stone, but Brassey was a little the taller. An objection having been taken to the length of the spikes in Langan’s shoes, “the Morocco Prince,” who acted as his second, condescended to waive his dignity, and a file being procured, he sat down, and in a most workmanlike style reduced the sharp projections to the dimensions of “sparrowbills.” Again some delay took place in the selection of a referee; this point settled, the men stripped for action. The colours, an orange bandanna for Brassey, and a green and yellow for Langan, being knotted to the stake, at 23 minutes past two the men shook hands and stood up for
THE FIGHT.
Round 1.—Each advanced to the scratch, Langan cool and smiling, Brassey looking serious and earnest. After slight manœuvring, Langan tried his left, and caught his opponent upon the mug. Brassey was impetuous, as if his anxiety was outstripping his prudence. He looked sternly at his antagonist, let fly, and planted two successive right-handers upon Langan’s frontispiece—one upon the left eye, and the other on the potato-trap; a close, and both down. Upon Langan’s rising “first blood” was claimed for Brassey, which was perceptible upon Langan’s mouth.
2.—Langan still wore a good-natured smile, while Brassey appeared serious, and the eagerness which he displayed was checked by several of his friends, who saw that although “his soul was in arms and eager for the fray,” yet a little more of “the better part of valour—discretion,” might prevent an accident. A little sparring—Brassey using his arms à la Bendigo. Closer and closer went the men, and a few smart exchanges took place, when they fell upon the ropes; a brief struggle ensued, and both went to the ground.
3.—No alteration of moment was to be seen upon either of the men, except that Langan’s left eye seemed rather inclined to renounce the plebeian cast, and become “a swell.” Langan held his right arm upon his breast, and his left a little advanced; feints from both, when Langan shot out with his left, caught Brassey upon the pimple, and sent him to grass. Brassey’s second objected to this being considered a knock-down blow, but the referee decided “first knock-down blow” in favour of Langan.
4.—Brassey came to the scratch with as much eagerness as ever, and scowled upon his rival. Langan was not dismayed, and the smile of good-humour, before noticed, assumed, for an instant, that of derision; he was, however, cautious, and played about actively. Brassey tried his right, was well parried, ditto with his left, when Langan receded a pace or two, and escaped a nasty one for his nob. Langan tried his luck, when a rapid bout of in-fighting ensued, which terminated in Brassey’s being thrown.
5.—Upon “time” being called, Langan marched to the centre of the ring, and as Brassey did not appear inclined to advance so far, Langan pointed to the scratch, as much as to say, “Come to the spot, my boy.” Brassey kept his station, when Langan “crossed the Rubicon,” and a long, dodging round took place, each trying his left mauley occasionally without effect, until they reached a corner of the ring, when a slashing rally followed—Brassey down.
6.—Brassey was now more quiet in his demeanour, but still intent upon mischief; in fact, had he not softened down the very strong penchant for going in, which he evinced during the five preceding rounds, it is questionable whether his eagerness would not have led him headlong into mischief. Each man eyed the other with determination, Langan tried his left, no go—again, it would not fit—again he essayed, and caught Brassey a good left-hander upon his dial, receiving a straight left-handed one in return upon his snuff-box. A quick rally, mutual exchanges, when once more Brassey fell.
7.—The visit which Brassey had paid to Langan’s snout was far from pleasant and the claret flowed profusely; the left eye also of the young Hibernian began to puff, and increase beyond its natural dimensions. Lengthened sparring. A close; Langan got away; the men closed again, when some severe blows from the right and left took place, the punishment being about equal, and in the struggle both went down, Langan first on the floor.
8.—The concluding rally of the last round had not been mere play, for each man’s phisog bore striking proofs of handy work. Brassey was cut over the right eyebrow, and was bleeding copiously; and Langan’s left was following suit, except that his wound was under the eye, and his opponent’s over. Extreme caution was now the password. Sparring, and no attempt at a single blow for nearly six minutes, which drew forth some volleys of hisses at the tardiness of the performers. Two minutes more elapsed, and no inclination to go to work, when Langan tried his left, missed, and caught a tremendous left-hander upon his nut, which, we fancy, suffered less than his assailant’s knuckles, and Brassey slipped down.
9.—Langan evidently wished to repay Brassey for his kindness, and planted two successive right-handers, one upon his weasand, and the other upon his nob. (Loud cheers for Langan.) A close, both down.
10.—Sparring and manœuvring (5 to 4 on Langan). Brassey looked daggers, made a feint with his right, and made a lunge with his left upon Langan’s body corporate. Langan quickly tried a right-handed return, failed, immediately seconded his intention with an effectual one, when some excellent counters ensued, and Brassey went down.
11.—The men met, when Brassey dropped his arms straight down, looked and nodded to his opponent. Langan maintained his position, and smiled (loud applause). Protracted sparring. Dodging all round the ring: another halt; more procrastination. (“Go to work,” cried the Morocco Prince; I’m tired of this sort of play.”) All was of no avail, the men still continued sparring, at last an indifferent rally ended suspense, and Brassey was thrown. This round lasted sixteen minutes and a half, and no real work done.
12 and 13.—Mutual returns, with considerable bodily exertion, both down in the struggle.
14.—Very slight variation from the two last.
15.—Counters. Brassey lunged out, and gave Langan an effective muzzler, receiving an excellent left-hander by way of “change,” upon his brow, which set the crimson flowing. Langan went to his antagonist, when Brassey slipped and fell.
16.—Langan’s lip began to swell, and the gash under his left eye still emitted the claret. Brassey’s first wound was quite dried up, and a stranger might have pronounced it three or four days old. After a little sparring, Langan shot out with his left, and fell from the over-reach of his own blow.
17.—Give and take; Brassey down.
18.—Langan was advancing to the scratch, when some cowardly rascal pitched a clod at him, which struck him on the hip, without doing any damage. A tedious round, when Brassey fell, escaping in his fall a right-handed upper-cut from Langan’s bunch of fives.
19.—Hit for hit; when Langan, in striking out, as Brassey jumped back, caught him just below the belt with his right. An appeal, but the referee decided the blow to be unintentional, and consequently fair, and the fight proceeded, Langan getting the worst of the rally; both down.
20, 21, 22, 23, 24.—All in favour of Brassey. A great uproar and confusion took place in the last round, in the outer ring, which threatened an interruption of the mill, but, after some delay, the tumult was quelled, and the spectators resumed their stations.
25 to 33.—Each of these rounds were, more or less, in favour of Brassey, although he was invariably undermost.
34.—Langan’s frontispiece was sadly disfigured, whilst Brassey’s was tolerably symmetrical. This may be accounted for from the fact of Brassey’s flesh not swelling, nor his wounds remaining fresh, but quickly assuming the appearance of cuts of some standing. From this to the 39th round, Langan gradually lost ground, though he never flinched from fairly meeting his man.
40.—Another uproar in the outer ring, with the addition of a few heavy clods flying about, the Liverpool party containing some noisy members. The men proved themselves good ’uns in reality, for they paid no attention to the row, but kept to their work, caught each other’s open left hand, and delivered two terrific round swinging right-handers upon each other’s corpus. After some little fibbing Brassey went down, and Langan rolled over him.
41 to 44.—Brassey was evidently gaining ground, and in the latter round Langan severely injured his right leg in falling against a stake, which made him lame for the remainder of the fight.
45.—Nothing material in this round, except one dishonourable knave deliberately cutting the rope of the inner ring, and had it not been for the praiseworthy activity of little Billy Critchley in splicing the same, would doubtless have finished the mill with a wrangle.
46 to 51.—Brassey’s friends were in transports. Victory was now booked as certain, and the rowdy upon Brassey could find no takers.
52.—Langan rallied, and up to the 56th round may be said at intervals to have turned the tide in his own favour; nay, even bets were loudly proclaimed, but little tin was sported.
57.—Brassey was evidently at sea, and the Langanites bawled most lustily. Compliment for compliment, each party alternately cheering on their man until Brassey fell.
58 to 62.—Both men fought well and to win. Brassey’s lower lip had received some stingers from his opponent in the way of cutting and carving, while Langan’s phisog was quite the reverse of what Lavater would term “the exquisite,” strongly reminding us of Kenney Meadows’s “Gallery” portrait of the “Man wot won the fight.”
63.—To all appearances it was now extremely doubtful which would be the victor. Hit for hit—right and left—give and take—advance and retreat, until both heroes fell over the ropes and out of the ring.
64.—Brassey came up and lost no time in drawing the claret from Langan’s right peeper, but slipped down from exertion.
65.—Langan’s mug was awful, his left ogle nearly closed, and he looked more languid than in any round previously; this and the 66th round told against him.
67.—One effort more; Brassey missed his left, Langan grasped him, and with a vigorous strength which we at this time thought he did not possess, threw him heavily.
68.—From this to the 73rd round Langan gradually continued losing, his left eye being quite closed, his right much swollen, and his lips as thick as those of Massa Molyneaux; Brassey seemed recovered, and was nearly as fresh as ever.
74.—Brassey, bent upon finishing as soon as possible, met his man, delivered his left, then retreated, and as Langan stumbled forward, delivered two tremendous right-handed blows, which felled him to the ground.
75.—Upon time being called, Langan was deaf to the cry, and Brassey was pronounced the conqueror after a protracted struggle of two hours and thirty-five minutes.
Remarks.—The instant the men had peeled the disparity in height and length of arm was apparent, which nothing short of superior science and activity on the part of Langan, which he certainly did not possess, could have overcome. In science Brassey is fully equal to Langan, while in lasting power he is his superior. In the quality of game Langan proved himself a hero; he only gave in when nature left him powerless to continue the contest. Brassey was quickly himself, and walked to his carriage, and Langan, though by far the most punished, said, soon after, that he was fairly beaten. Both men left the ground, as all British boxers should, with no feeling of ill-will towards each other.