A young Yorkshire noblemen, however, a newly-fledged M.P., Lord Lovaine (now Earl of Beverley) sought to make political and religious capital out of the affair. His lordship opened fire by an attack on the directors of a certain railway company—​the South Eastern—​for “their conduct in offering facilities for the conveyance of persons to these illegal contests,” and to raise the question, my Lord Lovaine, “moved for copies of any correspondence on this subject, which had passed between the Government and the South Eastern Railway Company.” He also inquired whether the Government had attempted to enforce the law, or whether anything had been done to stop the practice of letting trains for the purpose he mentioned.

To these impertinences, spiced with some personal inuendoes, Lord Palmerston replied in the following terms:—​“He would not argue the technical legal question that a fight between two men—​not a fight of enmity, but a trial of strength—​is, legally, a breach of the peace, and an act that renders the parties liable to prosecution; nor whether the persons who go to witness it are not, technically, involved in the charge. But, as far as they are concerned, they may conceive it to be a very harmless pursuit; some persons like what takes place; there may be a difference of opinion, as a matter of taste, whether it is a spectacle one would wish to see, or whether it is calculated to excite disgust. Some people look upon it as an exhibition of manly courage, characteristic of the people of this country. I saw the other day,” said his lordship, “a long extract from a French newspaper, describing this fight as a type of the national character for endurance, patience under suffering, of indomitable perseverance in determined effort, and holding it up as a specimen of the manly and admirable qualities of the British race (hear). All this is, of course, entirely a matter of opinion; but really, setting aside the legal technicalities of the case, I do not perceive why any number of persons, say 1,000 if you please, who assemble to witness a prize fight, are in their own persons more guilty of a breach of the peace than an equal number of persons who assemble to witness a balloon ascent (laughter). There they stand; there is no breach of the peace; they go to see a sight, and when that sight is over they return, and no injury is done to any one. They only sit or stand on the grass to witness the performance, and as to the danger to those who perform themselves, I imagine the danger to life in the case of those who go up in balloons is certainly greater (hear and laughter) than that of two combatants who merely hit each other as hard as they can, but inflict no permanent injury upon each other (hear, hear). I think there is moderation in all things—​moderation in all opinions; and although it may or may not be desirable that the law should be enforced—​whatever the law may be—​still I do not think any advantage is gained or good done, either to public morals or public feeling, by the sort of exaggerations in which the noble lord has indulged. At the same time the motion is one to which I see no objection, and therefore I do not oppose it.”

Some sparring took place, in the course of which Lord Lovaine taunted the Premier with a love of pugilism, and with sanctioning rather than discouraging these meetings. Mr. Scully also had a fling at the Premier.

Lord Palmerston replied as follows:—​“I distinctly stated that it was ruled by legal authorities that such prize fights were breaches of the peace; but I protest, at the same time, against the exaggerated terms in which the noble lord (Lord Lovaine) characterised the conduct of the spectators on those occasions.”

“Colonel Dickson was surprised to hear his hon. friend (Mr. Scully) take the noble lord at the head of the Government to task for the remarks he had made on this occasion, for he (Colonel Dickson) could not understand an Irishman objecting to fighting (a laugh). The noble viscount (Palmerston) had not laid himself open to such taunts. He sat on a different side of the House from the noble lord, and did not often find himself in the same lobby with him on a division, but he would say for the noble viscount that if he had one attribute more than another which endeared him to his countrymen, it was his thoroughly English character and his love for every manly sport (cheers). He (Colonel Dickson) never saw a prize fight in his life; but he would say that the two men who fought on the recent occasion showed qualities of which the whole English race had reason to be proud, our own man in particular (laughter), who evinced powers of endurance and an indomitable pluck which entitled him to the admiration of his countrymen (cheers.) Many men in this country received honours who did not so well deserve them. He did not think Parliament ought to legislate with the view to put down manly sports; and, with regard to the duties of magistrates the law was clearly laid down. Magistrates themselves ought to know when to act and when to shut their eyes (a laugh).”

The returns were then ordered; but whether any such papers existed, or of what use they were to the meddlesome movers, the world is to this day in ignorance. We should say that the whole debate was a peg on which to hang a sanctimonious attack to the glory of the “unco’ guid” assailants. While on this topic we will add a well-authenticated anecdote which was current at the time in the clubs.

While the Home Secretary (Sir G. Cornewall Lewis) was solemnly explaining and admitting the illegality of Ring-fights, a well-known sporting M.P. was collecting a “purse” for Sayers. Lord Palmerston came upon the group, and was instantly arrested by the amateur collector. “My lord, I want a sov. for Tom Sayers.” “A sov. for Sayers? Splendid fellow that; I’ll give you five.” “Thank you, my lord; but the subscription is limited to a single sov.” His lordship, with subdued alacrity, “Well, here it is; but I wish it was five.” There were noblemen then, in soul as in title; in humble life as in exalted. Do they survive, and have they the courage even of their own opinions?

Ah, me that I have lived to hear

Such men as ruffians scorned.

Such deeds of valour “brutal” called,