Again he must have experienced the impotency of inaction. He tried to hit Mendoza, but seldom succeeded. Again, one eye was completely closed so that he could not see from it. His friends, seeing that he had no chance of winning now, begged him to give in. But he refused. And yet he kept falling without a blow. One moment he would make up his mind to be brave, to endure whatever punishment was coming to him, and the next he would fail, and seek respite on the ground. Then again he would stand up and try to fight. For a little while after his friends’ solicitations, he was spurred on to his best endeavours, but it was useless. Mendoza won every round, and at last, dreadfully cut about the head and face, with a mutilated ear and a severe cut over the ribs, Humphries had to give in. Much battered, he was carried through the crowd on the shoulders of his friends. It was not until five years later that Mendoza’s championship was wrested from him by John Jackson, a man whose title to fame arose rather from his general behaviour than from his performances as a professional athlete. Jackson was born in 1768, and was the son of a builder. His forebears had come of a good yeoman race. He was a man of great solidity of character, astute commercial instincts and a sonorous pomposity of manner which passed very well for dignity. He was five-feet eleven in height, and he weighed fourteen stone. He was massively built, and he “took care of himself,” as the saying goes: in other words, he lived a reasonable life--the last sort of life usually lived by the pugilists of that day. Jackson and Mendoza met at Hornchurch, in Essex, on April 15th, 1795, for 200 guineas aside. The twenty-four-foot stage was built at the bottom of a hollow which formed a natural amphitheatre and accommodated about 3000 people. Jackson had fought only twice before, having beaten Fewterel of Birmingham, a good man with twenty victories to his credit, and having lost, through falling and dislocating an ankle, to George Ingleston. His fine appearance and his portentous respectability no doubt brought more public interest to his fight with Mendoza than his record: but the Jew was a fully tried man of a great and deserved reputation, and the betting was 5-4 on him. When the men had shaken hands a whole minute went by as they manœuvred about each other before a blow was struck. Then in the slow manner of that day, Jackson gathered himself together and sent in a tremendously hard left-hander which struck Mendoza full in the face and sent him down. In the second round the Jew was more careful, and when Jackson went for him he stopped or avoided blow after blow, using his feet with neatness and dexterity, and returning, if not blow for blow, at least a fair proportion of them. A little later there was a fierce rally in which Mendoza was knocked down, but the betting nevertheless rose to 2-1 on him.