The Bristol hero arrived at Belcher’s, the Castle Tavern, Holborn, on Wednesday evening, and made his bow to the Daffy Club. He was received with loud cheers. The turn of that “tide” which Shakespeare has declared to exist in the “affairs of man” now occurred in the milling career of the “Pride of Bristol,” as he was at this time termed. This was the great match with Tom Spring for the championship, of which full details will be found in pp. 16–22, vol. ii., _ante_. The battle was for £200 a-side, and took place near Andover, May 20, 1823. Spring’s weight was stated at thirteen stone two pounds, Neat’s at thirteen stone seven pounds, Spring being about four years older than his antagonist. The length to which the report of the battle extends in the pages above referred to, precludes the necessity of farther dwelling on its features here, than by relating a few anecdotes connected therewith. There is a class of men who always couple defeat with disgrace, and insinuate or assert dishonesty whenever events do not fall in with their hopes, their prophesies, or their wishes. The editor of the _Bristol Gazette_ made the following remarks on the occasion:—“Round the 9th.—Here—publish it not in Gath, tell it not among the Philistines—when time was called, Neat walked up and, instead of clenched fist, stretched out his hand to Spring; it was all U P. The Londoners shouted, the Bristolians looked glum; not the recollection of former victories by all the Pearces and Cribbs, and Gullys and Belchers, could for a moment revive them: every man stared at his neighbour with inquiring eye—‘What does it all mean?’ At last a report ran that Neat had broken his arm in a fall. ‘Pshaw! all my eye!’ Mr. Jackson, the Commander-in-Chief, went round with a hat for a collection for the loser—he confirmed the report of the broken arm. Whether this was a fact or not remains to be proved; this, however, was evident, that Neat neither fought with his accustomed courage nor skill. The battle had lasted but thirty-seven minutes: neither of the men were otherwise hurt. Neat never attempted once to get in to his man; when Spring was at the ropes, he did not follow him as he might have done; he was all on the shy, and fell once with the shadow of a blow. Spring relied chiefly, there is no doubt, upon his superior wrestling, and was always eager for the hug; but Neat either had not quickness to keep him off or wanted courage to strike. The sparring of Spring was much admired; but if Neat had had recourse to the smashing which he practised on Hickman, Spring’s science might have been puzzled. It is supposed that more money was lost by the Bristol boys than at any fight on record. The Londoners went chaffing home in fine style, whilst the return of the Bristol cavalcade was like that of a long country funeral.”