and “true ’tis pity,” and “pity ’tis, ’tis true!” Martin might have lost the fight on the above account, had the battle come to a long contest, and stamina been required; but in the present instance the repeated blows he received on the jugular vein must have finished him off hand.

As to Martin he attributed the loss of the fight to an accident, and issued a challenge for a third contest. Randall replied that he had declared beforehand that, win or lose, this should be his last battle, and moreover that his challenge was the result of a promise to Turner, that if Martin beat that boxer he would fight him himself.

We shall make no apology for transferring a letter from an eyewitness, who came up from Cambridge, to a university friend, as the best report of this eventful fight and its accompanying incidents.

“London, September 12, 1821.

“Dear ——

“Agreeably to promise, I sit down to write you some account of the great pugilistic events of yesterday, such as they appeared to my inexperienced eyes, and such probably as they would have done to yours. The intense interest excited in our minds by the sporting intelligence conveyed by the London press, and the difficulty of discriminating the plain, simple, unvarnished fact, amidst the eloquence and metaphorical colouring in which battles are narrated, renders it necessary that we ourselves should, once at least, see a prize-fight, in order perfectly to understand the events of the day, and be able to converse rationally on matters which are the subject of discussion in every body’s mouth. I was accordingly determined to see this fight, but it was a matter of tenfold more difficulty than I had anticipated.

“I had expected that our sporting friend’s letter of introduction to —— would have made everything easy, as that gentleman is supposed to be in the secret of all the sporting world. Nothing farther, however, could be learned, except that it was supposed that it would be on Crawley Downs, and a reason was given for this selection, that it would be an accommodation to the Brighton amateurs, who would in that case contribute £40 or £50 towards the reward of the performers. Nothing, however, was decided, and the amateurs, who were determined at all events to see the sports of the day, were written to by their friends to come up to London to head quarters, as the only means of making sure of not being disappointed. In fact, numerous amateurs arrived from Norwich, Canterbury, Cheltenham, Bristol, and other country towns, and at a tavern kept by Mr. Thomas Belcher, of fighting notoriety, friends from all these different places, attracted by kindred feelings, renewed their acquaintance.

“By-the-bye, you would be surprised how successful the fighting men are when they set up a place of public resort. In the country places, ale and strong liquors are best sold under the patronage of the Duke of Wellington; and his head being hung up over the door is a strong inducement for a genuine Englishman to enter, quench his thirst, and promote the revenue of his country. In Paris, at their coffee-houses, we observed they always had an elegant, young, and handsome female seated in a conspicuous place, as an object of attraction to the house; but the best painted head of the Duke of Wellington in the country, or the finest woman in Paris, never drew so respectable an assemblage as is brought together by the intense admiration felt for the heroism and manhood of Tom Cribb, Jack Randall, or Tom Belcher. The other sporting publicans all do well, and have their coteries of friends who patronise them, and find the liquors nowhere so genuine and constitutional as in the houses of these hardy supporters of English glory. It would have astonished you had you seen what an assemblage was at Belcher’s for some nights before the battle. You might have stood an hour before you could have got a seat, and barmaids and waiters were as much fatigued in serving out the liquors as the combatants after serving out to each other in the prize ring. The money was all alive. Five, ten, twenty, and fifty pound notes were common as waste paper, and were staked as freely on the event. It is wonderful how much the revenue must have benefited by the stimulus given to business before and after a great battle. One thing, however, I detest, and that is, that British amateurs should drink brandy, as many of them do. It is a suspicious liquor, and tastes of contraband. Let us stick to true brown, or real British dew; they accord best with the constitution. At Belcher’s there is a ‘Daffy Club,’ which makes this observance their leading rule. But to return to the history of the fights.

“A Council of War, as I was told, was held, at which were present a gallant general and three other amateurs, who had backed the men, and the historian of the prize ring; and, on comparing intelligence, and considering the letters from the various parts of the country, Crawley Downs was decided to be the place least likely to be subject to interruption. This was known at the sporting houses on Monday evening; and as it was upwards of thirty miles from town, and only known that night, it was put out of the power of the walking amateurs to attend. Here I cannot help regretting that the interruption given to sports occasionally by parsons and other ill-advised magistrates, should render it a matter of prudence to adopt such a course to prevent a numerous assemblage on such national occasions. It is depriving an immense mass of the lower orders of the benefits of the lessons of valour, forbearance, perseverance, and manly spirit, to be learned around the prize ring, and nowhere else. It is, I conceive, a most aristocratic proceeding, trenching on the liberties and pleasures of the people, and ought not to be continued. If we did not know our ‘patriots,’ as they call themselves, to be often mere humbugs, and to love nothing but what brings forward themselves in conspicuous characters, they would come forth and assert in Parliament and public meetings the people’s rights on such occasions. But, like the methodist and methodistical parsons, they hate all sport that withdraws attention from themselves. However, I do allow the assemblage was, in consequence of the absence of the pedestrian fancy, very select. Nine out of ten of the men on the ground had the dress and appearance of gentlemen, and the vehicles and cattle were certainly a show worth coming all the way from London to see.

“It was long before the business of the day commenced, and the amateurs walked about and friends from all parts of England met and exchanged salutations, and communicated intelligence of the state of science in their respective neighbourhoods.