ON January 7, 1824, Pitchcroft racecourse in Worcester was covered by floodwater. Again. But that didn’t stop more than 40,000 people gathering to witness one of the great sporting occasions of the year.

Nothing to do with horses, it was a bare-knuckle fight for the championship of All England. A sporting occurrence the like of which the city had not seen before and certainly hasn’t seen since.

Berrow’s Worcester Journal reported: “From dawn of the morning until 11 o’clock the throng of persons, both plebeian and noble, on horseback, on foot, and in carriages of every description, which poured in aft every avenue, was immense, and we are confident we do not exaggerate when we state the number was 40,000.”

It was the first sporting event in Britain for which a specialist grandstand was erected and interest in the fight was so great, people climbed trees overlooking Pitchcroft and the masts of the sailing ships on the nearby river Severn to watch. With an entrance fee of 10 shillings (about £60 today) it was probably the noblemen in the gallery and the plebs up the poles.

In one corner of the 24ft square ring – raised two feet off the ground to clear the lying water – stood Dubliner Jack Langan, “fistfighter, warrior and Champion of Ireland.” A womaniser too, Langan had fled to England following a paternity suit back home.

In the other corner was local lad Tom Spring from Woolhope, Herefordshire. An accomplished and stylish boxer, he was listed as “Champion of England and all the civilised world”. Some claim to live up to.

Neither man was large by today’s standards. Langan, considered tough and durable, weighed in at 12st 4lbs and Spring was heavier at 13st 8lbs. Spring also had much the better technique, particularly his famous “harlequin step”, the Muhammad Ali shuffle of its day, whereby he drew an opponent into throwing a punch, feinted and then delivered a counter-punch of his own. By then he been heavyweight champion of England for three years and started as 3-1 favourite.

Berrow’s employed a specialist boxing writer to cover the bout and he gave its readers this vivid description of the challenger: “Langan’s bust was fine, his arm excellent, but defective in his loins, his legs not good, and his knees not strong, not well rounded… and the judges thought he had ‘done too much work’; ie his training was too severe.”

In those days boxing was, superficially anyway, a gentleman’s sport and there was no “trash talking” as the two fighters met and shook hands. Berrow’s recorded the following exchange: “I hope you are well, Langan?” The reply came: “Very well, my boy; and we’ll soon talk to each other in another way.”

The fight was about to start when one of the temporary stands collapsed, dropping spectators 20 feet or more to the ground. Another stand collapsed during the second round and, according to the newspaper, “the shock completely paralysed the ring”. Despite the numerous serious injuries to spectators the contest went on, though there would be recriminations afterwards about the construction of the stands.

The fight itself was a typically long and brutal affair. Boxing in the 19th century was much closer to the mixed martial arts contests of today, than to modern day boxing. Fighters could, and did, wrestle or throw each other to the ground and the lack of gloves meant flurries of punches were rare.

The fights were also very long – the first round at Pitchcroft lasted 10 minutes – and there was no limit to the number of rounds. There was also little crowd control and by round 17 the ring had been “broken in at every side and was not 10 feet square”.

By the time the fight was stopped, in the 77th round, there were more than 200 people inside the ring. At the end of the contest, according to Berrow’s boxing specialist: “Langan was picked up groggy and stupid. ‘Take him away’ was the cry.”

In fact, Langan cited the ring invasion as one of the reasons for his loss, claiming the crush prevented him fighting properly. He asked for, and was given, a re-match, but lost that, too, Spring triumphing in 76 rounds at Warwick six months later.

The boxer had been pulled out of the Worcester fight by his second, a man named Hudson, who declared he should “fight no more” after the 77th round knockdown. But Langan refused to leave the ring when he regained his senses. The boxing expert caught his words: “Clear the ring and let me fight. I have not given in. I can fight for an hour.”

Berrow’s Worcester Journal was impressed by his courage and reported: “He is most certainly one of the gamest men we ever witnessed.” However, looking back after a week, the newspaper declared: “There was not one real good hit in the fight. Not one clean knock-out blow.”

But this didn’t stop it selling a bound copy of its account of the bout for 3d. What price that now?