24.—Carter was now “himself again:” his wind had returned, and he resumed the contest in the most decisive style. Oliver, like a lion, rushed forward in the most gallant manner. The hitting, in a rally, was terrible; both the combatants seemed totally to disregard punishment. The fine game of Oliver was opposed by the bottom of Carter, and this essential quality toward victory in pugilists, so much doubted to be possessed in the latter, was now found not to be wanting in the Lancashire hero. Oliver’s head was disfigured, and Carter’s nob was a little altered from its originality. It was the most desperate round in the fight; the closing of it at the ropes was to the disadvantage of Oliver, and his friends were now satisfied he could not win. 25.—It was astonishing to witness the courage of Oliver; he appeared determined to conquer or perish in the attempt. One eye was completely in the dark, and the other was rapidly closing. His strength was also fast leaving him; nevertheless, he contested this round in the most manly manner. He was ultimately thrown, and Carter fell heavily upon him. (Ten to one upon Carter.) 26 to 32 and last.—The die was cast, and the brave Oliver, like heroes of old, could not control his fate. Nature had been pushed to the farthest extremity that the human frame could bear. Defeat seemed to operate so much upon his mind that he fought till his pulse was scarcely found to vibrate; and in the last six rounds, during which he had not the least shadow of a chance, he persevered till all recollection of the scene in which he had been so actively engaged had totally left him. In the thirty-second round he was taken out of the ring in a state of stupor, and completely deprived of vision. The swelled appearance of his head beggared all description; his body and back were shockingly lacerated all over from his struggling so much upon the ropes; and, in point of fact, much as fighting men may have suffered in former battles, the situation to which Oliver was reduced, it appears, exceeded them all. The battle lasted forty-six minutes. He was taken and put to bed at Longtown, four miles from the ring, and in consequence of the vast quantity of blood he had lost in the contest, added to his exhausted state, the surgeons who were called in to attend upon him deemed it dangerous that he should be bled.