al repute.

The undergraduates were bent upon their old game, led by the Hon.
George Fitzwilliam, then of Trinity College, and accompanied by two
noted pugilists, "Soapy Dan" and a big black man named Mahone. After
the men of light and leading from the University had {139} run a course
of outrageous conduct towards all and sundry that came in their way,
there was the customary general fight, and the two pugilists played
terrible havoc among the Melbourn young fellows, till, to the surprise
of the visitors, one of the Melbourn party, J. King, came forward,
floored "Soapy Dan," and next had a regular set-to with the great black
man, whom, after a sharp fight, he vanquished also, to the amazement of
the Honorable George. The latter had staked ten guineas on the issue,
which he handed over to the Royston champion, took a mighty fancy to
him, and "took him in hand." He brought him to London, where, after a
short training, he met Jack Power at the noted fighting rendezvous of
Mousley Hurst, on an issue of L50 a side. The battle was a terrible
one, and though the Royston, or rather Melbourn, champion, was the
least skilful of the two, he fought for 47 rounds before giving in to
his better-trained antagonist, and practically closed a fighting career
which was as surprising as it was brief.

Better remembered perhaps by some who are still living, was a notable
prize-fight which, though it carries us a little beyond the era of the
Georges, cannot be passed by in these Glimpses of the past, as it
affords a striking instance of the fascination which the prize-fighting
ring had over many young men of good birth and education, and marks
what was practically the disappearance of these exhibitions from this
locality. This was the fight between "Owen Swift," a practised hand,
and "Brighton Bill," otherwise William Phelps, a young man of only
twenty years of age, who had seen little of such encounters and was
believed to have been deserving of a more useful career than that which
was so suddenly cut off by the fatal fight which, in the year 1838,
caused many persons in this neighbourhood to look with shame upon, and
to turn with disgust from such exhibitions. The combat took place near
Noon's Folly, on the Newmarket Road; Barkway, on the Cambridge coach
road, being the head-quarters of the pugilists. It created an immense
amount of interest, and, after a brutal exhibition, the unfortunate
young man from Brighton simply allowed hi