The second match took place at Birdham Bridge, near Chichester, on June 8th, 1824. Once again there was an enormous crowd, and this time the ring was protected not only by being raised, but by a circle formed by fifty-three farm wagons round about it. Spring was, naturally, the favourite. He brought down the scales at 13 stone 4 lb., whilst Langan was a stone under that amount, and was by some judges thought to have over-trained. John Jackson, as was usual at all notable battles since his retirement, superintended all the arrangements in connection with the ring. Spring was once again seconded by the old champion and Painter, Langan by Tom Belcher and O’Neil. Colours were tied to the posts in the men’s respective corners: blue with white spots for Spring, black for Langan. The fight began in very much the same way as the other between these men. Nothing of any particular note occurred until the seventh round, which was as good as any ever seen in the Prize-Ring. Spring led with his left and hit Langan hard in the face, stepping back at once. In those days they talked of Spring’s “harlequin step,” for he danced up to a man, hit or missed, as the case might be, and danced away again, extraordinarily light and easy upon his feet, and wonderfully quick. Now he was dancing in again, and hit Langan on the ear and nose. The Irishman came for more and was driven away with a stinging spank on the cheek-bone. His backers now called on him to exert himself, and he rushed at Spring, a great rally taking place, blow for blow, though Langan got the worst of it. Then they closed, and Spring threw his man heavily on the boards. Both were blowing when the round ended. It was “the Bank of England to a nutshell” on Spring, but Langan was a true Irishman. One of the differences between the English and the Irish is this: the Englishman doesn’t know when he is beaten: the Irishman neither knows nor cares. With or without the chance of winning, Langan continued to fight. By the eighteenth round Spring’s left hand was quite useless. But his right hand was sound still and he used it with great effect. It was Spring’s defence which made him one of the best knuckle-fighters that ever lived. He could guard and stop blows with greater dexterity and judgment than almost any other man, but he also understood the art of avoiding punishment by good footwork, which entails less effort. He was not a remarkably hard hitter, and, as we have seen, he suffered severely from his hands: but his skill lay in hitting again and again and yet again on precisely the same spot, so that the cumulative effect of many blows was as great, if not greater in a long fight, than that of a single smasher.