“’Tis not in mortals to command success,” says Addison in his sententious “Cato,” though they may “do more—that is, deserve it.” Aaron Jones, born in 1831—who, in his first essay in the Ring, at the age of 18, had the ill luck to encounter the formidable Harry Orme (in 1849), when he fought him for 2 hours and 45 minutes, at Frimley, as we have already narrated—was a notable instance of this. Jones’s after-defeats by Orme, Paddock, and Tom Sayers being herein set down, we now propose to resuscitate and “photo” the only gleam of sunshine in Aaron’s clouded career. This was his battle with Bob Wade, called the Dover Champion, on the 24th September, 1850.
From the time of Jones’s first defeat he had been anxious for a second customer; but his friends dissuaded him, and gave him the good advice to wait until another year or two had hardened gristle into bone, and set the stamp of endurance on his frame. The youngster, however, was impatient and importunate, and a cavalry officer, to whom Jones had been known in his boyhood, and who was a constant visitor at Jem Burn’s, on Jones calling his attention to a challenge from Bob Wade, offering himself as a candidate for the favours of any 12 stone man, for the small stake of £25 a side, consented to find the quarter of a hundred needful for the match. To improve the amount for the men, it was arranged that they should join in hiring a train on the South Eastern line, in conjunction with the clever little Joe Hoiles (“The Spider”), who was articled to do battle with Jemmy Madden, on the 24th of September. Accordingly, the “excursionists” repaired, on the morning of that day, to the London Bridge terminus of the South Eastern; for as yet the London, Chatham, and Dover was not. The day was delightful, and the destination, Edenbridge, Kent, was reached by noon. Here the travellers alighted at the foot of a rude set of steps cut in the turf embankment. These surmounted, a walk of a few hundred yards down a shady lane, out of sight of travellers by the rail, brought Tom Oliver’s roped square in view, and the smaller couple of heroes were soon at work. After a lively exhibition of game and resolution on one side, and artistic skill, with precise and cutting execution, on the other, “The Spider” succeeded in knocking his sturdy little opponent out of time.
The bantams having settled their difference of opinion, the bigger brace of “unfeathered bipeds” appeared in the pit—we beg pardon, the ring. Jones looked youthful, fair, cheerful, and symmetrical; his height 5 feet 11 inches, his weight 11st. 7lbs. Wade, on the other hand, was a brown and hardy veteran, his look as solid as his carcase, and his weight the same as Jones. His more compact frame, however, gave him quite two inches less stature than the Young’un. Jones had two excellent seconds in Alec Keene and Bob Fuller, while Wade had no reason to complain, having the services of the gallant Jack Grant and the accomplished Bill Hayes. It was currently reported that Jones had made rapid improvement since his encounter with Harry Orme, in the previous December, and hence he had the call in the betting at 5 to 4. We prefer giving a description to a mere numbered detail of the rounds.
In leading off, after a few seconds spent in manœuvring, Jones got in his left so cleverly and effectively on Wade’s jaw-bone that he not only staggered the veteran, but sent him against the centre stake with such force that his head was cut severely, and bled profusely throughout the after rounds of the fight. Wade, nevertheless, returned to the charge, and in the exchanges caught Jones a sounding right-hander in the ribs, after which both were down in a scrambling rally. In the second round Jones displayed superior science, nobbing Wade neatly, who, however, when he got to half-arm hitting, pegged away with resolution and effect, until again both were on the grass, with hardly any “best” in the matter, though Jones’s friends were uproarious in their encouragement of their man.
From the third to the tenth round Wade worked away well, Jones not seeming able to meet him with sufficient precision and certainty as he came in. When the men got together, ding-dong hitting and give and take was the order of the day; thus they roughed away until one or the other was down in the hitting, Wade the most frequently, Jones’s superior and straighter style gradually improving his position. In the twelfth round Wade, who had certainly by far the larger share of the punishment, caught Aaron a stinging hit on the nose, and so severe was its effect that for the moment it brought the Young’un forward in a state of mystification, and, hitting out at random, he came upon his knees. The Dover lads were vociferous in their acclamations, but Jones came up steady, and in the next round, nailing Wade as he came rashly in, balanced the account by battering his already damaged figure-head. In the succeeding three or four rounds Jones stopped Wade’s rush effectually. Both men rallied with great determination, and many thought that the lasting stamina of Wade must wear out the active spurts of Jones. In a rally in the 25th round, the Dover veteran hit Jones down with a swinging body-blow, and the hopes of his partisans were again buoyant. Wade, however, was too much abroad from severe hitting to take full advantage of his chance, and again and again his adversary administered punishment, as he followed him up to force the fighting. In the 39th round, Jones having propped Wade three or four times in succession without a return, the Old’un fell. Fifty-six minutes had elapsed, and amidst cries of “Take him away!” Wade came up for the 40th round, and Jones, in a half-arm rally, milled him down. The 41st and 42nd rounds presented little variation, Wade obstinately refusing to give in, though so advised by his friends; and at length, just as the hour had expired, and Wade had come up for the 43rd bout, Jones nailed him two straight ones, the first on the side of the head, the second on the mouth, and down went poor Bob, to all intents and purposes a beaten man. Jones was highly elated at his conquest, which was certainly creditable to the youngster, as his experienced antagonist was one of that old-fashioned “give and take” school, the members of which are not to be beaten by any boxer who cannot stand heavy retaliation in return for the favours he may bestow upon his opponent, even by superior skill or activity. The money, £50, was given up to Jones on the following Thursday, at Mr. Prior’s, South Audley Street, when the brave Old Bob received a liberal supply of “golden ointment” to heal his disappointment and his bodily hurts.
Jones, for a long period, up to the present year, 1881, has been living in America, where he has earned respect for his civility, steadiness, good behavour, and his skill as a teacher of the art of boxing. A paragraph in a recent newspaper informs us of his return to the Old Country at the age of fifty-one.