CHAPTER I.

TOM SAYERS (CHAMPION).――1849-1860.

As seven cities contended for the honour of being the birthplace of Homer, so, _parvis componere magna_, half a dozen places, English and Irish, have been named as the spot of dull earth whereon the last Champion of England opened his sharp little grey eyes. Somers Town and Camden Town, his favourite haunts in later life; Pimlico, now a palatial precinct of Belgravia, and several other places, have been oracularly declared, in “Answers to Correspondents,” in sundry sporting journals, to have been the _locus in quo_ Tom struggled into what proved in his case literally “the battle of life.” A clever sporting writer (“Augur”) remarks with truth that “Ireland makes it her rule of faith always to claim the winner, be it man, woman, or quadruped. The ‘divided honours’ of Farnborough presented no obstacle to this. She adopted the maternity of Heenan out of hand, and with fair pretence, and now she has put in a _post mortem_ claim to Tom Sayers. A regular county Kerry genealogy has been found for him, including a maternal aunt, who, naturally and nationally attributes his valour to her family infusion of the ‘blood of the Fitzgeralds!’”

In the memoir in _Bell’s Life_, at the date alluded to (which to our knowledge was from the pen of a trueborn Celt), we read “Tom Sayers, whose parents came from Dingle, in the county of Kerry,” &c. This gossip we pass, being able to state from personal knowledge, not only that Tom was born at “Pimlico,” a place of “fish-like smell,” in the middle of Brighton, Sussex, on May 25th, 1828, but that his father, “Old Tom,” so called from the bronzed complexion he transmitted to his son, whom he survives, is a genuine Sussex man, born at Storrington, near Steyning, in that county, where he was baptised in 1793, and in 1819 married a home-born and home-bred Sussex woman. Tom’s pedigree, therefore, is indisputably that of an Englishman. How he passed his youth, pushing off the Brighton hog-boats from the shingly beach of London-super-mare, we may also pass. In due time he was placed out to the trade of a bricklayer, and we have heard him say his first “big job” was on the Preston Viaduct of the Brighton and Lewes Railway, a noble structure of stone and white brick, visible from the Brighton terminus, crossing the Preston Road. Tom quitted Sussex, and in 1848 he was following his vocation on the extensive works of the North Western Railway at Camden Town, a locality for many years a favourite with the departed Champion.

Sayers’s Ring career was doubtless one of the most remarkable on record, his fights extending over twelve years, 1849-1860, besides numerous earlier battles. They were, within the regular P.R. ropes, sixteen in number, including one defeat and a wrangled “draw;” and in all but three cases against heavier and bigger men; for soon after the opening of his career no professional of his weight and inches cared to tackle him.

Tom was in his twenty-third year when, having migrated in the pursuit of employment from Brighton to Camden Town, he was induced by the challenge of one Aby Couch, and the stake of a “fiver,” to meet his opponent “down the river,” in the ropes of old Commissary Oliver. The affair came off on March 19th, 1849, near Greenhithe, when Tom sent Couch to rest in less than 13 minutes. For more than a twelvemonth Tom’s friends looked in vain for a customer at 10st., or thereabouts, but could not find one, though they declared him not particular to a few pounds.

At length “Tom Spring’s waiter,” Dan Collins, whom we remember as a civil, smart, intelligent news-boy, petitioned his worthy master for a shy at Master Thomas, and articles were agreed for £25 a side, to fight on October 22nd, 1850. Dan was about an inch taller than Sayers, and a trifle heavier, though each on the day was under 10st. His known skill, too, from his exhibitions at Spring’s, made him the favourite, though he had been defeated by Ned Donnelly in the previous year. We well remember the surprise of the veteran Vincent Dowling (Editor of _Bell’s Life_ for more than its first quarter of a century), and of Tom Spring, not only at the tough resolution and remarkable endurance and strength of the “novice,” as the Camden Town hero was called, but at the gameness with which poor Dan, sadly overmatched, took his “gruel.” At Edenbridge, Kent, in the first ring, they fought nine resolute rounds in 27 minutes, when, the rural constabulary intruding, the belligerents retired to Red Hill. Spring considerately proposed to Dan to decline, saying “He had fought quite enough for his money,” but Dan earnestly entreated, and was indulged, when thirty-nine more rounds were fought in 1 hour 52 minutes, both men being heavily punished. Darkness now interposed, and the final trial was postponed to December 10th, to meet in the same ring as Young Sambo (Welsh) and Cross. This draught-board game proving a draw between black and white, burned out two hours and a half of the short daylight, and there was no time for Sayers and Dan to exhibit; so once more the decision was deferred.

On April 29th, 1851, Sayers and Collins met in fistic fray at Long Reach. The improvement of Sayers in skill made poor Dan appear to have fallen off, and though he struggled gallantly through forty-four rounds, occupying 84 minutes, the tide never turned in his favour. Collins scaled 10st. 2lbs. at this second meeting, Sayers 9st. 10lbs. If Tom reaped fame by this contest, there was but little profit in training three times for a quarter of a hundred “yellowboys.”

The great improvement of Sayers on this occasion was evident to every judge of boxing; he took a strong lead, was never headed, and won in a canter. If there was little profit in three trainings and three fights for one stake, Tom gained confidence and lots of friends. His weight, however――too heavy for the nine-stone men, and underweight for the “middles” and “heavies”――kept him without a match for nearly a year. The “empty praise” of his friends, too, kept him from the “solid pudding,” so that none of the 9st. men cared to meddle with him. Various challenges in the columns of _Bell’s Life_ show the impatience with which Tom bore this enforced inactivity. At length, to the surprise and delight of the Southwarkians, Tom had, what they thought, the presumptuous hardihood to offer to meet the renowned Jack Grant, for £100 a side. Jack was at the top of his renown. He had beaten James Haggerty, drawn with Mike Madden (daylight failing), beaten Alec Keene, and received forfeit from the talented Callaghan of Derby. Winning, and nothing else, was the idea of the Borough lads. The mill came off at Mildenhall, Suffolk, June 29th, 1852, for £100 a side. Grant was attended by Harry Orme and Jemmy Welsh; Sayers by Nat Adams and Bob Fuller the pedestrian. Betting 6 and 7 to 4 on Grant.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――On appearing at the scratch, the condition and general appearance of Sayers was the theme of admiration: there was not an ounce of superfluous flesh about his body――he appeared all wire and muscle. His phiz wore a good-humoured smile of confidence, and there was a ruddy glow upon his cheek which told of good health and condition. His attitude was graceful and firm, and, to a good judge, it was apparent that if he was as good as he looked the Borough Champion had his work cut out. Grant seemed not quite up to the mark. His arms, it is true, were muscular and brawny, and his good-tempered mug looked healthy; but there were certain accumulations of fat upon his chest and ribs which sufficiently indicated that his exercise had not been so severe as it might have been, and we were informed that, instead of weighing about 10st. 2lbs. he turned the scale at 10st. 6lb. Notwithstanding his lustiness, however, he appeared to look upon the result with quiet confidence, and to hold his adversary at a very cheap rate. His position indicated the old tactician――the arms well up, and not too far from his body, his head back, and his eye fixed upon that of his adversary, who stood well over him, and was longer in the reach. After a little dodging, Grant, who was anxious to begin, led off with his left, slightly reaching Tom’s forehead, and jumped away from the return. Sayers followed him up, when Grant tried to repeat the dose on the forehead, but was prettily stopped. Sayers at length got home with his right on the ribs, which was followed by heavy counter-hits, Grant on the left cheek, and Sayers heavily on Grant’s nose. Ditto repeated, when Sayers gained “first blood” from a cut over that organ. Grant then went in to force the fighting, but Sayers stepped back, jobbed him again on the nose, cleverly stopping the return. Counter hits succeeded, Sayers catching a nasty one on the left side of the head, and on getting back slipped down.

2.――Grant tried to lead off several times, but was on each occasion well stopped. He returned the compliment by twice stopping Sayers, and then lunged out his right, catching Sayers heavily under the left ear. Tom countered him with effect on the nose, and a close following, both were down; Sayers under.

3.――Grant took the initiative, but Sayers jumped away smiling; he, however, came again directly, and led off with his left, but was stopped. He was more successful a second time, and reached Grant’s damaged nose. Grant closed for the fall, but Sayers would not struggle, contenting himself with fibbing Grant on the nose and left ear until both rolled over.

4.――Mutual good stopping, after which Sayers delivered his left heavily on Grant’s ribs and jumped away. Counter-hits with the left followed――Sayers on the nose, and Grant on the ribs. A close, and some sharp fibbing. A break away, and at it again, Grant delivering his right heavily on Tom’s left eye. Slight exchanges, Grant again getting it on the nose, and Sayers slipped down.

5.――Both, on coming up, looked flushed. Sayers smiled, while Grant looked grim. The latter led off, but was twice stopped. They then got to work; sharp counter-hits were exchanged, Sayers receiving heavily on the left cheek, and Grant on the nose and jaw. A close and struggle for the fall ended in Grant being thrown, but not heavily.

6.――Sayers tried to lead off, but Grant was wary, and stopped him. He was not to be denied; however, he made another attempt, and again reached Grant’s smeller, getting well away from the return. Sayers then repeated the dose heavily with both hands, and followed this up by one or two punches in the ribs. At length Grant swung round his dangerous right, and caught Master Tom a tremendous whack on the left ear, which staggered him. Grant then closed, but Sayers declined to struggle for the fall, and fibbed away at his man until he allowed him to slip down.

7.――Sayers showed the effects of Grant’s visitation to his left ear, which was considerably swelled. Grant looked flushed from the taps on the nozzle. The latter led off, but was quite out of distance, and Sayers followed his example by delivering too high to be of any service. Exchanges then took place, each catching it on the right eye, Sayers’ delivery appearing to be the heavier. In getting away Sayers slipped down.

8.――Grant took the lead, but was again stopped, and caught an awkward one on the left listener for his pains. He then succeeded in planting his left on Tom’s forehead. Grant bored in, but Sayers stepped back, administering an upper-cut, which led to a rally, in which some sharp hitting took place, and Sayers scrambled down.

9.――Both slightly blown. Tom stopped Grant’s attempts to plant on him, and then delivered his left on the nose twice in succession. Grant again made his right sound against the left side of Tom’s head, and then sent in a heavy one on the ribs. Sayers, nothing daunted, was at him again, popped in his left on the cheek and his right on Grant’s left ear, and this bringing them to a struggle, Sayers letting himself down easy.

10.――Grant tried to force the fighting by boring in, but got it on the left eye rather heavily. Sayers, however, had not the strength to stall him off. He again went in, caught Sayers on the left eye, and in a struggle which followed the latter again slipped down to avoid being thrown.

11.――Grant led off, got well home on Sayers’ left ear, and then closed, and both rolled over together.

12.――Sayers’ left ear and left side of his head were much swollen; still he smiled, and calmly awaited the attack, which was not long in coming. Grant dashed in, and commenced hitting away with both hands; he drew blood from Tom’s mouth by a heavy spank from his left. Sayers delivered on the left cheek, and the round finished by both falling together at the ropes.

13.――Grant made his right with severity on the ribs, getting away from Sayers’ return. Sayers followed him up, and some sharp hits were exchanged left and right, both catching it on the nose and cheek, and Grant at length got down.

14.――Grant dashed in resolutely, but twice was well stopped. Sayers then delivered his left and right on the nose and left eye. Grant, not liking this, bored in, made his right on Tom’s left cheek, closed, but Sayers catching well hold of him, threw him a cross-buttock and fell on him.

15.――Both, anxious to get to work, led off at the same time, and each got it on the left eye. Grant was then neatly stopped twice in succession, but at length closed, and some sharp in-fighting took place, Sayers catching it on the left eye, and Grant on the left ear. The round ended by both going to grass. (Forty minutes had now elapsed, and those who had backed Grant to win in an hour began to look blue.)

16.――A capital round. After some excellent stopping and manœuvring on both sides, they got close together, and some sharp exchanges took place, each catching it on the nose and left cheek. A close ensued, followed by a break away, and both at it again, left and right, until Grant got down, somewhat blown, his want of condition evidently beginning to tell.

17.――Somewhat similar to the last, each catching it severely on the side of the head. The hitting appeared rather in favour of Grant, who drew more claret from Tom’s mouth. Both were eventually down.

18.――Grant dashed in and closed for a fall, but Sayers declined the struggle, fibbed him severely on the left ear several times, and Grant slipped down. He lay on his back where he fell, blowing like a grampus until time was called, when he was carried to his corner, from whence he walked to the scratch.

19.――Some good exchanges, Sayers on the right eye, and Grant on the nose, removing the bark, and drawing a fresh supply of the ruby. Quick exchanges, but both apparently hitting open-handed, were followed by Tom getting down cleverly.

20.――Grant, whose ear had been lanced, came up bleeding from that organ, which was much swelled from the blows in the 18th round. He rushed in, but Sayers caught him heavily on the damaged listener. Grant, still determined, persevered, caught Tom on the left side of the head twice in succession; exchanges followed in favour of Grant, and at last Tom got down.

21.――Sayers’ left eye began to show symptoms of adopting the early closing movement. He tried to lead off, but was stopped by Jack, who made his left again on the closing peeper, and then closed. Sayers fiddled away at his left ear until both were down.

22 and 23.――Both slow but steady, and the rounds ended, after a few exchanges, in the men slipping down at the ropes. In the latter round Grant pursued Sayers, who ran round the ring until he got to his own corner, when he turned sharp round, caught Grant left and right on the nose and left eye, which led to the close and fall.

24.――Grant came up bleeding from a cut over his left eye. Sayers attempted to take the lead, but was well stopped, Grant making his right heavily on his left ear, and Sayers fell through the ropes.

25.――Sayers was again neatly stopped, and in stepping back from Grant’s return, caught his heel and fell.

26.――Mutual good stopping, Sayers evidently the more active; he caught Grant again on his left ear, which was terribly swollen, received a heavy thump on the ribs from Grant’s right, and dropped on his south pole.

27.――Grant dashed in with his left on the mouth, and then his right on the side of Sayers’s head. Exchanges――Grant drawing blood from Tom’s nose. Some good in-fighting in favour of Sayers, and Grant got down.

28.――Good counter-hits, each catching it heavily on the nose. They now went to work in earnest; the hitting on both sides was tremendous, but owing to the excellence of Sayers’s condition, he did not show it much, while Grant, who received principally on the left ear and nose, looked considerably the worse for wear. Eventually Sayers slipped to avoid Jack’s friendly hug, and Grant, who fell over him, cleverly avoided touching him with his spikes.

29 to 32.――In these rounds Grant led off, but his want of condition prevented his being as quick as he otherwise might have been, consequently he was often stopped, and of course exhausted himself by throwing away his blows. When, however, they got at it he gave as good as he got, and the rounds ended by Sayers slipping down. In the 32nd, however, Grant threw Sayers, and fell heavily on him.

33.――Grant came up bleeding from the mouth and left ear; he tried to lead off, but was stopped. Sayers popped in his left and right on the mouth and throat, getting it in return on the nose heavily, more of the bark being displaced, and in the end both were down.

34.――Grant planted both hands, but the steam was gone; Sayers returned on the mouth and left eye. A rally, Grant delivering on the damaged cheek-bone of his adversary, and receiving another gentle tap on his nose, which drew more fluid. A close struggle for the fall, and both down, Sayers under.

35.――One hour and a half had now elapsed, and both appeared fatigued from their exertions. Grant stopped several well-intentioned deliveries, and returned on Tom’s left eye and nose, drawing blood from both. Good exchanges led to a close, when both were down.

36.――Sayers came up weak, while Grant had slightly recovered. The latter led off, was twice well stopped, but ultimately sent home his right on Sayers’ left cheek and the latter slipped down.

37.――Sayers, whose left cheek and eyebrow were much swollen and discoloured, led off, and caught Grant on the left eye and nose, but not heavily, and in retreating fell.

38.――Grant took the lead, but was propped in the throat by Tom’s right. Grant, however, found out the side of his head with effect. Exchanges followed, both receiving on the nose; but Sayers, who was the weaker, got down on the saving suit.

39.――Grant dashed in with his right on Tom’s left cheek, who closed, fibbed him heavily on his damaged ear, and then slipped down.

40 to 42.――In these rounds but little mischief was done, both sparring for wind, and eventually Sayers got down cleverly.

43.――Grant, who seemed to have got second wind, led off quickly, but Sayers jumped away. Grant followed him up, caught him on the ribs, heavily with his right, and then on the nose with his left. Sayers returned on the throat, and some heavy deliveries on both sides took place, both standing and hitting away for some time without an attempt at stopping, and there appeared to be no decided advantage on either side; at length Sayers slipped down exhausted. This was unexceptionally the severest round in the fight. The men appeared to think this was the turning-point, and each wished to make some decided impression on his game adversary.

44.――Both were the worse for the exertions in the last round. Grant’s left ear bore marks of having been again severely visited, and we believe his seconds again found it necessary to lance it. Sayers did not show such decided marks of Grant’s handiwork, but this was mainly accounted for by his excellent condition. His left eye was, however, closing, and his left cheek much swollen. Both unwilling to begin, and some slight blows having been exchanged, Sayers slipped down.

45.――Grant went into mill, but napped it on the left ear and nose with severity. Good exchanges followed, and Sayers again slipped down.

46.――Grant still first to fight, but was cleverly stopped by Sayers, who was getting more active. They quickly got to in-fighting, when after a few exchanges they rolled over, and Grant excited the admiration of all by the careful manner in which he avoided falling on his man with his feet or knees.

47, 48.――Grant took the lead in both these rounds, but was stopped in each instance, and received deliveries from Sayers’s right on his left ear. He nevertheless succeeded in each round in planting on Sayers’s left ear with his dangerous right; but the blows had not that vigour we have seen him exhibit on former occasions. Both were down in these rounds.

49.――Some rattling exchanges took place in this round; Grant getting it on the throat and ribs, and Sayers on the chest and mouth and eventually slipping down.

50.――Sayers made play on the ribs with his left heavily, Grant returning on the nose with his left; Grant then stopped two attempts on the part of Sayers, made his left and right on the nose and left cheek, and Sayers slipped down.

51.――Grant again popped in a spank on Tom’s nut, receiving in return on the smeller heavily, and losing more claret. Good exchanges followed, when Grant rushed in and bored his man over the ropes.

52.――Sayers attempted to make the running, but was stopped by Grant, who went in to mill, and planted both hands, one on the nose and the other on the left side of the head heavily. Another on the nose succeeded, which opened the claret jug again. Sayers only planted his left once on the nose and slipped down. This round was decidedly in favour of Grant.

53.――Sayers made his left on the ribs, and tried to plant the same hand on the nose, but was well stopped. He received one from Grant’s right on the side of his head; this brought on a rally, in which he caught it on the eyebrow heavily, and slipped down.

54.――Grant, thinking the game was now his own, again rushed in, but Sayers was with him and in the exchanges which followed he visited Grant’s left ear with great severity, catching it slightly on the side of the head, and then getting down cunning.

55.――Grant again first, but stopped; he however, made good his right on the ribs directly afterwards, and then his left on the right eye of Sayers, who sent home his right on the neck, and his left on the left ear. Grant bored in again, received one on the left ear, which bled freely, and Sayers slipped down.

56.――A close, and Sayers got down.

57.――No mischief done. Some slight exchanges, and Sayers slipped down.

58.――Sayers caught Grant as he came in on the nose and throat, and then on the mazzard heavily, drawing more of the ruby. Grant then closed, struggled, and both fell heavily to the ground――Sayers uppermost.

59.――Grant, who seemed weak and exhausted, was twice stopped; but in a third attempt caught Sayers on the left ear with his right, and the latter slipped down.

60.――Grant led off, reached Sayers’ left eye, received one on his damaged listener, and slipped down.

61.――Grant appeared determined to finish the matter off hand, rushed in left and right on Sayers’ cheek and nose. Sayers put in both hands on the left eye and nose; a rally, close, and short struggle, both again coming to the ground heavily――Grant under.

62.――Sayers tried to lead off, but was short; Grant just contrived to reach his nose, but the blow had no steam in it, and Sayers in getting back slipped down.

63.――Both slow to the call of time, and both evidently exhausted. Grant was first up, but he looked much flushed; his face was much swollen, his nose anything but Roman in its appearance, and his left ear presenting an unpleasant spectacle. He rushed in, but Sayers, whose good-natured mug still bore the ghost of a smile, although nearly on the wrong side of his mouth, stopped him cleverly and got away; Grant followed him up, got home with his right on the side of his head, receiving, in return, on the left ear. A close, and long struggle for the fall, which Grant got, throwing his man and falling on him.

64 and last.――Grant came up looking very groggy. The falls in the few last rounds had evidently shaken him. He appeared to be suffering from cramp, but still was determined. He led off, getting slightly home on Sayers’ left cheek bone. Tom retaliated on the left ear. A few sharp exchanges were succeeded by another struggle for the fall, and ultimately both came very heavily to the ground――Grant being undermost――Tom falling across his stomach. Both were immediately picked up and carried to their corners, and on time being called, Jemmy Welsh, on the part of Grant, threw up the sponge in token of defeat. On our inquiring as to the cause of this rather unexpected termination of the affair, we were informed that Grant was severely suffering from cramp, and had moreover injured some part of his intestines in such a manner that it was feared he was ruptured, and he was in such pain that he could not stand upright. Sayers went up to his fallen but not disgraced adversary and shook him kindly by the hand, and was proclaimed the victor amidst the shouts of his friends. Grant was conveyed on a railway truck to a small public-house in the neighbourhood, where every attention was shown to him, but he continued in great pain for some time afterwards. The poor fellow was not actually ruptured; but he had received a severe internal strain, which caused him considerable uneasiness for some time. Grant met with an accident some time before at Manchester, which always rendered him weak in the muscles of the stomach, and he considered that being not fully up to the mark, he was more than usually susceptible of injury. The fight lasted exactly _two hours and a half_.

REMARKS.――The great length to which our account of this “model mill” has extended imposes upon us the necessity of being brief in our remarks. Tom Sayers by this victory established for himself a reputation as a man of science, courage, and endurance, for which few were disposed to give him credit. The manner in which he stopped the determined attacks of his adversary, and the judgment with which he extricated himself from difficulty, and continually refused to struggle for the fall with a man stronger than himself, proved that his headpiece was screwed on the right way, and that although, compared with his opponent, a novice in the Prize Ring, he was perfectly acquainted with the theory of his art, and only wanted the occasion to arise to put that theory into practice. He proved himself a very hard hitter, and managed to get on to his opponent so frequently that even Grant’s iron mug displayed such bumps and contusions as the gallant hero has seldom exhibited in his former engagements. Sayers is a good-tempered, well-behaved young fellow, and bears a high character for honour and integrity. He is by this victory nearly at the top of the tree, and we trust that by his future conduct he will show that prosperity has not, in his case, as it has in many we could name in his profession, had the effect of destroying his good principles. Grant, although not destined on this occasion to wear the crown of victory, was not disgraced by his fall. He manfully disputed every inch of ground with his clever opponent, and showed that his qualifications as a sparrer were quite equal to those of Sayers. His stopping and wrestling were universally admired, while the manliness and care with which he avoided falling upon his adversary in such a way as to cause any dispute, obtained for him the repeated plaudits of the surrounding throng. The fight, as we have before observed, was conducted throughout in a way to leave nothing to be desired.

Tom now remained idle until January of the following year, 1853, when a game, resolute fellow, named Jack Martin, who had disposed of several countrymen, and grown into high favour with Ben Caunt, was brought forward by “Big Ben” to uphold the honour of the “Coach and Horses.” Tom’s standing challenge was accordingly accepted for £50 a side, and Wednesday, January 26, 1853, named as the day of battle. A foggy trip per steamer landed the voyagers in Long Reach, and, the preparations being made, the men stood up and shook hands; Alec Keene and a friend, for Sayers, and Tom Paddock and Jerry Noon as seconds for Martin, joining in the friendly ceremony.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――On toeing the scratch it was clear to all that Sayers was a bigger man than his adversary; and, if possible, in better condition. His eye had resumed its brightness, and there was a hardness in his general appearance which made him look all over a perfect gladiator. Martin, who was shorter in the reach than his opponent, showed great muscularity of arm and thighs, but elsewhere he was not nearly so well furnished. He was pale, but there was a good-humoured smile on his mug, which showed that the word fear was unknown in his vocabulary. Little time was lost in sparring――Sayers led off, catching Martin slightly with his left on the nose. Martin immediately rushed to in-fighting, when some heavy hits were exchanged, each catching it on the left eye, and each showing claret at the same moment from cuts on the brow. After a few random shots both were down together. “First blood” was claimed by each party, but was decided by the referee to be a drawn event.

2.――Both bleeding from the left eye, Sayers appearing to have the worst of it. He was undaunted, smiled, led off with his left, catching Martin on the right cheek. Martin again went in, and commenced pegging away with both hands. Sayers was with him, hitting with most precision, and the round ended in both again falling together.

3.――Sayers commenced the ball, caught Martin a spank on the right cheek, received slightly on the body, and then catching Martin full with his left on the nose, sent him to grass, a clean “knock-down blow,” and thus won the second event.

4.――Martin came up bleeding from the nose, but with a smile of confidence. Sayers led off, but Martin jumped cleverly back. He then stepped in, caught Sayers on the damaged optic, drawing more of the ruby. Heavy exchanges followed; Martin delivered his right heavily on the ribs, Sayers returning with effect on the nose. A close at the rope followed, and both were quickly down.

5.――Martin attempted to take the lead, but was neatly stopped; he then swung round his right at the body, and immediately closed for the fall. Sayers, instead of struggling, fibbed away at Martin’s head until Martin forced him down.

6.――Sayers led off on the nose with his left; Martin countered on the side of the head. A tremendous rally followed, the hits on both sides succeeding each other with great quickness. Each caught it on the side of the head, but the blows of Sayers, from his superior reach, told with most force. In the end both were down.

7.――Martin led off, was well stopped, and received a nasty one on the nose; he then closed, but Sayers refused to struggle with him, and got down, Martin following suit.

8.――Sayers commenced by planting his left on Martin’s nose with effect, and immediately repeating the dose. Martin returned on the left eye heavily, enlarging the old cut; and Sayers, in stepping away, slipped down.

9.――Martin showed a bump on each side of his nose from the heavy blows in the last round. He tried to take the lead, but was well stopped. Ditto repeated. After which he bored in, Sayers catching him heavily on the left cheek. Martin succeeded in reaching Sayers’ damaged brow; good exchanges followed, Sayers getting, however, on Martin’s right eye, and Martin on the ribs with his right. Another tremendous rally followed, each getting heavy pepper, Martin, however, having the worst of it, and receiving on the mouth and left eye with great severity. At last they got close together, and, after a short struggle, Sayers eased himself down, and Martin fell on him.

10.――Martin, on coming up, showed marks of the efficacy of Sayers’ handiwork in the last round. His right eye, which was previously “all serene,” was now completely closed, and his right cheek much swollen, while Sayers appeared little the worse for wear. Sayers led off, but was short; Martin then made an attempt, but failed in like manner. Counter-hits followed; Sayers again reached the right ogle of his adversary, who took all in good-humour, and still smiled with one side of his face. He now dashed in, and more exchanges took place, Martin succeeded in inflicting a cut over Sayers’ right eye, which had been hitherto unscathed. At length, after some sharp in-fighting in favour of Sayers, Martin slipped down on one knee. Sayers, who might have hit him, laughed and walked away, amidst cries of “Bravo” from both sides.

11.――Sayers led off with his left, reaching the side of Martin’s nose. A rattling rally followed, at the end of which Sayers threw his man, and fell heavily on him.

12.――Martin came up bleeding at all points, but still the same good-humoured fellow as ever. Sayers led off short, ditto Martin; Sayers in on the ribs with his left. Counter-hits, Sayers on the nose, and Martin on the cheek, drawing more of the ruby fluid. A close followed, and some more heavy infighting, after which, Martin contrived to swing Sayers over.

13.――Sayers on coming up was bleeding rapidly from a severe cut on his left hand, evidently inflicted against Martin’s teeth. The men quickly got to it, counter-hits were exchanged, Martin on the ribs, and Sayers on the right cheek, followed up by two spanks, left and right, on the nose and mouth. More heavy pounding in favour of Sayers, who hit at points, while Martin hit round, and principally at the body. At length they closed, and both were down, side by side, each looking at his adversary and smiling.

14.――Martin led off with his left, but was out of distance. Sayers, with great quickness, let go his left, and reached his opponent’s mouth. Martin merely grinned at the visitation, bored in, but only to receive another severe prop on the right eye and a spank on the nasal organ. Still he was determined, and again went at his man, who, in getting away, slipped down.

15.――Martin’s phisog in anything but picturesque condition, his right cheek much swollen and bleeding, and his mouth completely out of kissing condition. After a few passes, slight counter-hits were exchanged, Martin getting home on the body, and Sayers on the left cheek. Martin, not to be stalled off, rushed in and delivered a heavy round hit on the ribs with his right; Sayers was with him, and visited his damaged smeller with severity. This led to another good rattling rally, in which Sayers inflicted more heavy punishment on poor Martin’s nose and right eye, while Martin only succeeded in delivering some sounding punches on his ribs. They broke away, again got at it ding-dong, and finally, in the close both were down. Martin apparently as strong on his legs as his opponent.

16.――Good counter-hits with the left, each catching the other on the mazzard. Sayers now stopped one or two attempts on the part of his adversary very neatly, and returned heavily on the nozzle. An attempt to repeat the dose was unsuccessful, Martin quickly jumping back. Martin came again, and swung round his left on the ribs, but napped it again on the nose for his imprudence. More mutual punching in favour of Sayers followed, but still Martin’s deliveries were occasionally severe. A close, in which both fibbed away hammer-and-tongs. Sayers reaching Martin’s remaining optic, but not with sufficient force to put up the shutter, and Martin drew more claret from his opponent’s left ogle. A break away, and at it again, until Martin slipped down on one knee; Sayers again walking away smiling. This round, which was one of the best fighting rounds we have seen for many a day, elicited universal applause.

17.――Martin came up piping, and rather slow, but still smiling, as well as his damaged phiz would allow. He endeavoured to lead off, but was easily stopped. In a second attempt he reached Tom’s left cheek, but Sayers countered him on the left eye heavily, his superior reach giving him the advantage. Martin, not to be cowed, popped in a heavy right-hander on the ribs; received again on his left eye, and, in retreating, slipped down.

18.――Sayers let fly his left, but was short; both appeared fatigued from the quickness with which they had worked, and sparred a few seconds for wind. Sayers at length again led off, and caught Martin on the left eye, Martin returning on the same suit with considerable quickness. Both were now short in their deliveries. Martin at length bored in and reached Tom’s ribs with his right. Sayers returned on the right cheek, and both slipped down.

19.――Sayers again out of distance. He soon crept closer, however, sent out his left, was neatly stopped, and cleverly got away from Martin’s return. Martin followed him up, caught him on the left cheek, and then on the body, receiving a nasty one in return on the left eye. In the close which followed he succeeded in throwing Sayers heavily, amidst the cheers of his friends, who did not think he had so much strength in him.

20.――Sayers led off, caught Martin on the mouth, was unsuccessful in a second attempt, and then caught a heavy right-hander on the ribs. Martin sent out his left and was stopped, Sayers returning with effect on the right eye, and then on the left, from which he drew more claret. Martin, whose head was much swollen, again planted a rib bender, closed, and after a short struggle both were down.

21.――Martin took the lead, but Sayers jumped away laughing; Martin returned the grin, and again sent out his left, which was easily stopped. Sayers once more reached his adversary’s blind side, and Martin slipped down weak.

22.――Any odds on Sayers, who was as fresh as possible. Martin made an effort to turn the tables, but was stopped several times; he at length reached Tom’s ribs, and the latter stepping back, steadied himself, waited for Martin’s rush, and then sent out his left with terrific force, caught poor Martin on the right jaw, and the latter tumbled over on his face apparently out of time. It was thought all over, and the poor fellow was carried to his corner, but when time was called, to the surprise of all he came up for round

23, and last.――He was evidently all abroad, and staggered about the ring. Sayers went up to him, delivered his left on the right cheek, and following this with a right-hander on the nose, down went Martin for the last time, and Sayers was proclaimed the winner after fighting 55 _minutes_. Sayers, although severely handled about the mug, was still fresh on his pins; both his eyes were fully open, and it was evident that, had it been necessary, he was good for many more rounds. Martin, on being conveyed to his corner, was laid upon the ground, and every effort made to restore consciousness, but it was fully five minutes before he could be made to understand what had happened. As soon as possible he was conveyed on board the steamboat, and made as comfortable as could be expected under the circumstances.

REMARKS.――A few more such battles as that we have just recorded would go far to restore the fallen fortunes of the Prize Ring. It was, in truth, as we have styled it above, a mill of the old school. More punishment was inflicted in 55 minutes than we have seen in two hours in any encounter during the last few years. There was not a single appeal to the referee, nor was there a single action on the part of either man throughout the fight at which the greatest stickler for fair play could take exception. Both had evidently made up their minds to a fair and manly struggle for victory, and their friends ably supported them in their laudable resolution, by rigidly abstaining from any interference. In fact, the only thing at which we felt inclined to cavil was the manner in which Jerry Noon seconded the losing man. A good second always remains quiet until the round is over, then picks his man up, carries him to his corner, and cleans him as tenderly as possible. Roughness, or interference during the round, only tends to confuse a man’s ideas and lead him into jeopardy. As to the merits of the men, there cannot be two opinions. Martin was clearly overmatched. He was opposed to a taller, longer and stronger man, one, moreover, possessing greater knowledge of the art of self-defence than himself. That he (Martin) is a game, resolute fellow no one will deny. A greater glutton we have seldom seen. He is, also, an exceedingly fair fighter, scorning to take the least advantage, and is possessed of that greatest of all requisites to a boxer――unwavering good-temper. The terms of praise in which he was mentioned by all clearly showed that his conduct was appreciated as it deserved to be. Of Tom Sayers, and his manly, good-tempered style of fighting, we have before spoken in the highest terms, and it is only necessary for us to state that his conduct was as upright and his tactics were as fair as ever. He, on several occasions, refrained from punishing his adversary when he was down on one knee only――a position in which he was perfectly entitled to strike him, and one in which he might have administered pepper with effect. He used his left hand with greater precision than in his battle with Grant, and his deliveries appeared altogether heavier than in that encounter. As we have before observed, the ring was exceedingly well kept throughout, and all had an uninterrupted view of the encounter from its commencement to its conclusion. As soon as possible after the event was decided, the crowd that had assembled took its departure――some returning by the boat, while others, who did not fancy a return trip up the river in the dark against an ebb-tide, struck across the marshes to Dartford, and thus reached town at seven o’clock by the North Kent Railway. Among the latter was our eccentric friend, Bendigo, who quite put out the pipe of the milling orator and poet, Charley Mallett, as, while waiting at the station, he composed and sung a long extempore poem, descriptive of the day’s sport, and laudatory of the heroes and of himself, which elicited uncontrollable laughter and applause from his Corinthian auditors, and sent all back to the Metropolis in perfect good humour, caused as much by the ready wit and “hanky-panky” performances of that eccentric individual, as by the extraordinary treat they had enjoyed on the field of battle.

The year 1853 was not to expire without witnessing the first and last defeat of the gallant Tom.

Nathaniel Langham, for many years known as “mine host” of the “Mitre,” in St. Martin’s Lane, Leicester Square, whose biography illustrates a former portion of this volume, was, as the reader is already aware, of that unlucky weight, 11st., which is so difficult to match when accompanied by first-class pugilistic capabilities. Too heavy for the light men, whose average lies between 9st. and 9st. 10lbs., and too light for real “big-uns,” provided they possess skill and pluck, men of this size can find fair competitors only among men of their own weight and inches. Nat’s earlier combats, therefore, as we have already seen, were with heavy men; and his only defeat had been by Harry Orme, his superior by more than half a stone, under circumstances fully detailed at page 244 of this volume. Two years had elapsed since Nat’s defeat, and public talk had prophesied in fistic circles of “the coming man” in the person of the conqueror of Jack Grant. “Ould Nat,” who seemed for the moment laid on the shelf, pricked up his ears when he heard that Tom, whose motto was “Excelsior,” was ready to make a match with the “Champion of the Middle-weights.” Nat picked up the gauntlet, and all was soon arranged. At Lakenheath, Suffolk, on the 18th October, 1853, they met, with the result already recorded.

Defeated, but not disgraced, Tom lost no time in challenging Langham to a second trial; but the latter, for good and sufficient reasons, which we have fully set forth in our memoir of that boxer (_ante_ p. 251), declined the invitation.

Sayers was, therefore, on the look-out for a new competitor, and although Tom “proposed” to several of the provincial “ten stunners” and upwards, none listened to his suit.

One evening, after some “chaff,” George Sims, a long-limbed professor of the art, immensely fancied by some of the “locals,” threw down the gauntlet to Tom, professing regret that £25 was all he could raise for the experiment, and that Tom could easily post £50. Finding that the professor was serious and “meant business,” Sayers, who declared himself “blue mouldy for want of a bating,” accepted the chance, as he said, “to keep his hand in.”

The day fixed was the 2nd of February, 1854, and on a miserably foggy morning the principals and their friends took steamer to Long Reach, below Gravesend, and soon were face to face, near the river wall. Sayers, who weighed 10st 6lbs., looked remarkably well. Sims, who stood over him, was 5 feet 10 inches, and said to be under 11st. We doubt if he were so light, despite his leanness. Sims was waited upon by Jemmy Welsh and Harry Orme, so that he had talent behind him; Sayers had Jemmy Massey and Bob Fuller as counsel. 7 to 4 and 2 to 1 on Sayers.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Sims was so much taller than Sayers that he seemed quite a lath before him, and, as soon as he held up his hands, displayed such awkwardness that it was evidently “sovereigns to sassingers” on Sayers, and Dan Dismore immediately offered 4 to 1 on him, which was taken by Jem Burn on the off chance. Sims, after a little unartistic squaring, lunged out awkwardly, and caught Tom on the chest with his left. Tom, who was evidently waiting to find out what his adversary could do, returned smartly on the mouth, and in getting back fell on his corybungus.

2.――Tom grinned, dodged his man, and, on the latter wildly sending out his left, countered him on the nozzle heavily. Sims immediately closed, and Tom, seizing him round the neck, pegged away with his right at the ribs and left eye until both fell.

3.――Sims led off, evidently without any settled plan; he caught Tom slightly on the mouth, and the latter again countered him heavily on the nose, deciding the first event in his favour by producing an excellent supply of the best crimson dye. Sims did not like this, and again closed, when Tom fibbed him heavily on the proboscis, drawing more of the ruby, and then on the left eye, and both again fell.

4th and last.――Sims on coming up looked much flushed; his left ogle winked again as if it saw so many bright stars as to be perfectly dazzled. He attempted to lead off, but was countered with the greatest ease by Tom on the left eye and mouth. He retreated as if bothered, and then went in again, when Tom let go both hands, the left on the smeller, and the right with terrific effect over the left brow, inflicting a deep cut, and drawing a copious supply of the best double-distilled. Sims was evidently stunned by the hit; for, as Sayers caught hold of him, he fell back and rolled over him. It was at once perceptible that it was all over; poor Sims lay perfectly insensible and motionless. His seconds did their best to stop the leak in his _os frontis_, but for some time without effect; and, as for rendering him capable of hearing the call of “Time,” that was quite out of the question, and Tom Sayers, to his own astonishment and the disappointment of those who had expected a rattling mill, was declared the conqueror, after a skirmish of exactly five minutes. Sayers was so bewildered that he could not make it out; he evidently did not know he had made so decided a hit, and displayed considerable anxiety to ascertain the fate of his less fortunate opponent. A medical gentleman was present, who soon did the needful for the poor fellow, and in about five minutes more he was himself again, and was able to walk about. He was quite dumbfounded as to the result, and expressed a strong wish to be thrown into the river; but, after some persuasion from his friends, became more calm, and thought it better “to live to fight another day.”

REMARKS.――A few words are all that are called for in the shape of remarks on this mill. Sims was from the first overmatched. He is a civil, well-behaved, courageous fellow, ridiculously over estimated by his friends. Tom Sayers and his tactics are too well known to require comment. He did all that was required of him, and left the ring without a scratch. We never saw him in better fettle; and if he ever had a day on which he was better than he ever had been before, that day was Tuesday. An easier job never fell to man’s lot; and the best wish that his friends can express is, that he may never have a worse.

This brief episode left Sayers literally without a chance of continuing the main story of his battles, of which this could be hardly reckoned more than “_un affaire_,” as French _militaires_ would call it. Tom looked round and round, he sparred, and challenged, and travelled, but he was not fancied as a customer by either Londoners or provincials. He was too good a horse, and handicapping him was not so easy. There was much “talkee, talkee” about a match between himself and Tom Paddock, then claiming the Championship, and a proposal for Paddock to stake £200 to Tom Sayers’s £100, Paddock weighing 12st. 8lbs. to Tom’s 10st. 1lbs., or thereabouts. It came to nothing, however; and Tom, in despair, announced his intention of going to Australia.

Harry Poulson, of Nottingham, whose three tremendous battles with Paddock, in the first of which he was victorious, though defeated in the second and third encounters, had raised his fame deservedly, was now talked of, and Tom was induced to match himself against him. Here, again, Sayers was giving away “lumps of weight;” for Poulson, though an inch shorter than Sayers (namely, 5ft 7½in.) was a perfect Hercules in the torso, weighing 12st. 7lbs. in hard condition. He had thrashed, in provincial battles, all comers, and was known as one of the coolest, most determined, and game fellows that ever pulled off a shirt. True, he had come into the London Ring rather late in life, having been born in 1817, but his endurance and strength were considered an overmatch for Sayers. So, too, thought Jem Burn, a staunch friend of Poulson, and he proposed to stake £50 on his behalf. Sayers accepted it, and Bendigo, who was Poulson’s friend and adviser, snapped at what he declared to be “a gift” for his townsman Harry.

Many of Tom’s friends were displeased with the match, which they considered presumptuous on his part, and declared that he was completely overmatched, as it was known Poulson could not fight under 12st., and Sayers to be well ought to be more than a stone under that amount. At first he had some difficulty in finding supporters, but that was happily got over by the influence of one of the staunchest Corinthian fanciers of modern times. After he was matched, Sayers remained longer in town than was prudent, and, as a natural consequence, was too much hurried in his preparations. He was not quite a month at country quarters, and on arriving in London looked fleshy, and had evidently done insufficient work. Had he been about five pounds lighter he would have been all the better. He was, nevertheless, extremely sanguine of success, and assured his backers that he would fully justify the confidence they had placed in him. We saw Tom at Nat Langham’s, the “Cambrian,” on the Monday evening. He was surrounded by an extensive circle of the upper-crust supporters of the P.R. His weight was about 10st. 12lbs. or 13lbs.

Poulson, after his last defeat by Paddock, had remained at Nottingham, where he followed his laborious occupation as a navvy until informed of the proposed match, in which, as already stated, he was taken in hand by Jem Burn. That facetious worthy, determined that no pains should be spared, summoned Bendigo to his assistance, and under the able tutelage of that eccentric but painstaking ex-champion did Harry get himself into very first-rate trim. Every muscle in his powerful frame was beautifully developed, and there did not seem to be an ounce of superfluous meat in any place. As the men were not tied to weight, no scaling took place at the last moment on which dependence could be placed. He was certainly not less than 12st., and might have been a pound or so more. His height 5ft. 7½in., and in figure and general appearance, although shorter and thicker set, marvellously like “the renowned” Bendigo. On the Monday before the battle Poulson took up his quarters under the hospitable roof of “My Nevvy,” at the “Rising Sun,” where he was greeted by an admiring circle, including many patricians. He retired to his “flea pasture” at an early hour; but the eccentric Bendy kept the company at the “Rising Sun” in a perpetual grin until the approach of the small hours reminded him that he, too, had work to do early in the morning, upon which he retired to roost, as did the host himself, who, although suffering from gout, had made up his mind to be present. The betting, at both Jem’s and Nat’s, varied between 6 and 7 to 4 on Poulson――odds which the superior strength, weight, and condition of the countryman fully justified. The betting was tolerably brisk, but there were more layers of odds than takers.

By six o’clock in the morning all the Fancy were astir, and great was the difficulty in getting cabs. A hard frost had set in, and most of the vehicles were detained at home to get the horses “roughed.” Several, owing to this unforeseen occurrence, were unable to catch the train at eight o’clock; and, had it not been for the opportune arrival of the drag of an old friend, Sayers would, in all probability, have been left behind. As it was, he cut it so fine that he only arrived as the station-doors were closed. The journey down was performed by eleven o’clock, and within half an hour the ring was ready at Appledore. The men lost no time in entering its precincts, Poulson attended by Bob Fuller and Bendigo, and Sayers receiving the friendly assistance of Nat Langham and Jemmy Massey. Umpires and a referee were soon appointed, and at six minutes to twelve the men toed the scratch. The betting now was tolerably brisk at 7 to 4 on Poulson――odds which, at one period of the fight, advanced to 3 to 1, which was laid by Tom Paddock, whose confidence in his old opponent’s tried game and resolution tempted him to overstep the bounds of prudence in his investments.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――The disparity in weight was very perceptible, as was also the superior condition of Poulson. Sayers, however, had the advantage in height and length. Poulson threw himself into the old-fashioned attitude, with both hands held somewhat high, and planted firmly on both pins. Sayers, on the contrary, assumed an elegant position, resting most upon his left foot, his right arm across the mark, and the left well down. He fiddled a little, until Poulson went in and let go his left and right. The former was stopped; but with the latter he got home on Tom’s nut. A sharp rally instantly took place, which brought them to close quarters, in which Sayers fibbed his man very cleverly, catching him heavily on the conk, and in the end both were down, Poulson under.

2.――Both were flushed from the rapid in-fighting in the last round, which had evidently been severe. Poulson tried to lead off, but was too slow for his active opponent. He persevered, and at last got home with his right over Tom’s left ear. This led to more heavy exchanges and a close, in which Poulson caught Sayers round the neck. Sayers hit up, but without doing any damage, and in the end was down, Poulson on him.

3.――Sayers came up smiling but cautious. He fiddled his man until he got within distance, when he lunged out his left on the right brow, but too high for mischief. Poulson returned heavily on the ribs with his right, when Tom retreated. Poulson followed him again, let go his left and right, was beautifully countered, but again too high and on the side of the nut, and Poulson slipped down.

4.――Sayers feinted and let go his left on the nose, but not heavily. Poulson was wild and missed his return, whereupon Sayers put in his left very neatly on the right cheek. Poulson now went in ding-dong, but his blows wanted precision. He got close, when Sayers caught him on the right peeper and the right lug, from each of which there was a tinge of blood. Tom then closed and threw his man very neatly, falling on him. (“First blood” for Sayers.)

5.――Sayers again feinted to draw his man, who came in, and Sayers sent his left over his shoulder. Poulson then closed, threw, and fell on him.

6.――Tom, after one or two feints and dodges, again let fly his left, but was well stopped. Poulson, however, missed his return with the right at the body. He now rushed in determined, and some tremendous punching, left and right, ensued, in which Sayers hit straighter and oftener, but Poulson heavier with his right, which paid some heavy visits to Tom’s nut.

7.――Sayers again feinted and succeeded in drawing his man, who let go both hands, but out of distance. Sayers with quickness returned on the forehead, but was too high. Heavy counter-hits followed to a close, in which the fibbing was severe, Sayers receiving on the left side of his head and returning on the mouth.

8.――Both, much flushed on the dial, came up laughing. Poulson lunged out his right, catching Tom heavily on the ribs and then on the cheek, Tom instantly closed, and, after a sharp struggle, in which it was thought Poulson had the best of it, Sayers cleverly back-heeled him, throwing him heavily and falling on him.

9.――Poulson tried again to deliver his right on the ribs, but Sayers was well away. Harry rushed after him, slinging out both hands, when Tom ducked and escaped. Poulson persevered, and at last caught him with his right on the ribs, when some more severe in-fighting in favour of Poulson took place. In the end both were down.

10.――On coming up Tom’s nose showed that Harry had been there in the last round; his ribs, also, were unmistakably bruised. He feinted to draw his adversary, and let go his left, which was stopped, and Poulson returned on the ribs. Sayers, with great quickness, countered him as he delivered this blow, and sent him to grass by a sharp left-hander on the right temple. (“First knock-down blow” for Sayers.)

11.――Poulson came up slow, as if posed by the blow in the last round. Sayers dodged with his left, and popped it over Harry’s right peeper, getting quickly away from the return. Poulson followed him up, but missed his right; he persevered until they got to close quarters, when Sayers again knocked him down by a heavy right-hander on the jaw. (Loud cheers for Sayers, the Poulsonites looking blue.)

12.――Tom came up smiling and all alive, dodged, and put in his left very straight on Harry’s nasal promontory. Poulson instantly rushed in, but napped it on the right side of his nut and slipped down.

13.――Poulson, who had been called on to fight with his left, waited for Sayers, and, on the latter coming near, caught him heavily with that hand on the proboscis, staggering him. Tom soon came again, and retaliated by a heavy delivery on the mouth with his left. After some mutual sparring, Harry was short with his left, and Tom countered him with the right on the left peeper, and then with the left bang on the olfactory organ. Some sharp exchanges ensued, in which Poulson drew the ruby from Tom’s snout, and Tom slipped down.

14.――Both got quickly to work. No stopping; and, after one or two harmless cracks, Sayers got down.

15.――Poulson again attempted to fight with his left; but Sayers was too quick for him, and nailed him on the right cheek. Harry tried it again, but was stopped; and Sayers then let drive with his left on the smelling-bottle very heavily; he retreated, feinted, and, by putting the double on, succeeded in delivering another smack on the same organ. Some very heavy exchanges followed, in which Sayers got home on the right eye and Harry on the sneezer; Sayers slipped down.

16.――Tom came up filtering the juice from his beak. Poulson tried to plant his favourite right, but was stopped. He then tried his left, but was out of distance. After several more wild efforts, Sayers caught him with his left heavily on the right cheek, and retreated. Poulson followed him to the corner and let go his left and right, when Sayers countered him on the cheek. Poulson retaliated on the mouth very heavily, and Tom slipped down.

17.――Tom was now bleeding from the mouth and nose. He was as steady as ever, and planted his left on the side of the head. This led to some sharp in-fighting, without material damage, and in the end Sayers slipped down, tired.

18.――Poulson bored in, let go his left, which was stopped, and Sayers was out of distance with his return. The same thing was repeated on both sides; but, on their getting closer, some good counter-hits were exchanged, Poulson getting it on the jaw and Tom on the damaged nose. Tom retreated, followed by Harry, who let go both hands, but was prettily popped on the nozzle. Some more sharp exchanges followed, Tom getting it heavily on the left eye, and in the end Tom was down.

19.――Tom’s left peeper showed signs of closing. Poulson, seeing this, bored in, but was propped on the forehead and cheek. He persevered, when Tom succeeded in planting a very straight nose-ender, which removed the bark from Harry’s proboscis. The force of his own blow staggered Tom, who slipped down.

20.――The gnomon of Harry’s dial was by no means set straight by these visitations. He tried his dangerous right at the body, but missed. Sayers nailed him again on the snout, and got down.

21.――Tom again put in his favourite double on Harry’s _os frontis_ and nose, and, on receiving Poulson’s right on the ribs, fell.

22.――Harry, in his usual style, lunged out his right at the body, but was short; Tom returning on the right peeper, and getting cleverly away. Poulson followed him up, and, after innocuous exchanges, Sayers went down.

23.――Poulson again led off, but was propped neatly on the forehead and nose. This led to sharp counter-hitting in favour of Poulson, and Sayers was again down.

24.――Tom tried his double and got home his left on the frontal bone, to the detriment of his knuckles, and again too high to be effective. Poulson pegged away at the ribs and the side of his head very heavily, the latter blow knocking Tom off his pins.

25.――Tom seemed much fatigued; he nevertheless led off, but without effect. Poulson tried to return, when Tom met him on the nose with his left, and then on the forehead. Poulson once more reached Tom’s nose with his right, and Tom was down.

26.――Harry tried his left, and succeeded in reaching Tom’s right peeper, but not heavily. Tom returned on the forehead, and then delivered his left on the snout. He retreated to draw his man, and as he came caught him a tremendous spank on the potato-trap with his right, but in retreating caught his foot against the stake and fell.

27.――Harry’s mouth much swollen from the hit in the last round. He rushed in, when Tom caught him on the nasal organ heavily with his left, and got away. Poulson now tried his left, but was short; and Sayers caught him once more on the lips, renewing the supply of carmine. Poulson rushed after him, and Tom in getting away again caught against the stake and fell heavily.

28.――Tom smiling, dodged and popped in his left on the mouth, and then on the nose with great quickness, drawing more gravy. Poulson rushed after him, but missed his right; some slogging punches followed on both sides to a close, in which both fell, Sayers under.

29.――They immediately closed, and after some sharp fibbing, in which Sayers was the quicker and straighter, both were again down. One hour had now elapsed.

30.――Tom led off, and again reached Harry’s nose. It was a long shot, and not heavy. Poulson missed his return, whereupon Sayers planted his left twice in succession on the nose, and, after receiving a little one on the chest, slipped down.

31.――Poulson led off with his left, but was stopped, and Sayers was short in his return. Harry then missed his right on the ribs, and napped a hot one on the kisser from Tom’s left. This visitation Tom repeated, and then got on Harry’s nose. Harry rushed at him, and Tom slipped down, the ground being in a dreadful state.

32.――Sayers feinted and again got well on the mug and nose with his left, and Harry was short with his return. Tom drew him, and as he came got home on the right eye. Harry now reached his left cheek heavily, and Tom got down.

33.――Tom planted his left slightly on the dexter ogle, and then in the mazzard, getting cleverly away from the return. Poulson followed him up and delivered another terrific smack with his right on the nose, drawing a fresh supply of the sap. A close followed, in which Tom slipped down, bleeding from his proboscis.

34.――Poulson tried both mauleys, but was short. He then rushed in again, missed, and Tom, in getting back, fell. He was evidently weak, and it was now that Paddock laid 3 to 1, thinking, no doubt, that Poulson, who from his fine condition showed scarcely a mark, would tire him out.

35.――Poulson went to work, missed his left, but caught Tom with his right on the larboard cheek, which was much swollen, and in the close which followed Tom was down.

36.――Tom led off with his left on the nose, but not heavily. Harry returned on the nose and the side of his head, and Tom slipped down.

37.――Harry let go, and planted his right on the nose. Exchanges followed in favour of Poulson, and Sayers got down.

38.――Tom collected himself, waited for his man, and nailed him twice in succession on the right eye. Slight exchanges followed, and they fell opposite to one another on their knees, the ground being more slippery than ever, and their spikes almost useless.

39.――Tom dodged, put in his left and right on Harry’s optics; the latter then went to work, and some heavy exchanges ensued in favour of Poulson who nailed Tom with effect on the left eye, and Tom fell. His left eye was nearly closed.

40.――Tom still took the lead, caught Harry on the snuffbox heavily, and in retreating slipped down.

41.――Tom busy with the left on the right eye, and then on the mouth. Poulson returned heavily on the left goggle, and then bored Tom down through the ropes, his left daylight being quite extinguished.

42.――Sayers tried his left on the mouth, but was stopped, and Poulson dashed in, nailed him with the right on the mouth, closed, and fibbed him until Tom was down.

43.――Tom, although evidently tired, came up smiling, feinted, and let go his left on the right cheek. Poulson dashed in, when Tom met him heavily over the left eyebrow. Poulson still followed him as he retreated, and Tom nailed him on the nose. In the end Tom got down in his corner.

44.――Tom “put his double on,” but it wanted steam. Poulson then bored in, closed at the ropes, and, after a short struggle, both were down.

45.――On getting close, some heavy counter-hitting took place, Tom getting on to the right peeper, and Poulson on the mouth, renewing the supply of crimson. Tom retreated, came again and caught his man on the temple, and then on the mouth. Poulson returned on the latter organ and ribs with his right.

46.――The left side of Tom’s nut was much swollen, and his nose all shapes but the right. He came up undaunted, let go his left well on the right ogle, which at last began to show signs of a shut-up. Tom retreated, followed by Poulson, and as the latter let go his right, Tom countered him bang on the right eye. Poulson returned slightly on the nose.

47.――Sayers once more tried his double with effect, and got on the right eye. Poulson rushed after him, when Tom slipped down in rather a questionable manner, but there was no appeal.

48.――Tom crept in and popped his left on the nose. A close followed, in which Tom got down on the saving suit.

49.――Poulson tried to take the lead, but was too slow for the nimble Tom, who got quickly away. Harry persevered, and got well on the ribs twice in succession very heavily.

50.――Tom evidently felt the effects of the visitations to the ribs, for his left arm certainly did not come up with the same freedom as before. Poulson went in, delivered another rib-bender, and Tom got down.

51.――Harry tried to improve his advantage; but Sayers propped him beautifully on the nose, received another little one on the ribs, and dropped.

52.――Poulson once more swung out his right; but Tom got away, and, as Harry followed, planted his left on the smeller. Poulson then bored him down, and falling himself, carefully avoided dropping on Sayers by placing a knee on each side of him. This manly forbearance on the part of Poulson elicited loud applause on all sides, the more particularly as it was not the first time during the fight.

53.――Poulson again let go his left and right, but Tom was away, planting his left on the jaw as Harry came after him. Poulson succeeded in delivering his right slightly on the cheek, and Sayers got down.

54.――Poulson led off left and right, but was stopped, and he, in turn, stopped Tom’s attempted deliveries. Tom then made his left on the throat and mouth by one of his clever doubles, and, after napping a little one on the proboscis, dropped.

55.――Poulson popped his right on Tom’s damaged peeper, and then on the jaw very heavily. Heavy exchanges followed, each getting it on the side of the cranium, and in the end Sayers was down.

56.――Tom feinted, put his double on the mouth and throat, and, as Poulson followed him up, he took advantage of a slight hit to go down.

57.――Poulson dashed his right on the left cheek, and Tom was again down, evidently requiring rest.

58.――Harry got well on to Tom’s conk with his right, and then with his left, and Tom dropped.

59.――Harry again led off, but the blow was of no effect; he followed it by another on the nose, and a third on the side of the head, and Tom went to earth.

60.――Harry made his left and right, but they were very slight, and Tom got down.

61.――Sayers was now recovering his wind, and, waiting for his man, countered him very straight on the right eyebrow as he came in, inflicting a cut, and drawing the carmine. Exchanges in favour of Sayers followed, who again caught his man over the right peeper, and, in the end, Tom got down, the Poulson party asking why he did not stand up, and claiming a foul, which was not allowed, there being no ground for it.

62.――Tom led off, but missed, and napped a heavy smack on the whistler from Poulson’s left. On getting close, a tremendous counter-hit with the right was exchanged, Sayers getting it on the jaw, and Poulson on the right eye, each knocking his adversary down.

63.――Both slow to time, the counter in the last round having been a shaker for each. Poulson was bleeding from the right ogle, and Tom from the mouth. Tom again got on to Harry’s right eye, and, on getting a little one on the mouth, once more fell.

64.――Tom, again very weak and tired, waited for his man, caught him slightly on the left cheek, and slipped down. Another claim that he went down without a blow disallowed, the ground being very bad; the referee, however, cautioned him to be careful.

65.――Tom tried his left, which was easily stopped, and Poulson nailed him on the mouth. A close and fibbing followed, when Tom, having all the worst of this game, got down.

66.――Poulson led off with his right, which was stopped, and Sayers missed his return; Poulson then caught him a little one with his right on the side of his nut, and Tom, glad of the excuse, got down.

67.――Harry tried his left, and succeeded in reaching Tom’s right cheek. Heavy counter-hits followed, Poulson on the nose, and Tom on the left cheek; and Tom, in turning, after getting another crack on the side of his occiput, dropped.

68.――Poulson dashed out his left, but Sayers got cleverly away. He tried it again with the same result, and on making a third essay, Tom countered him well off on the right ogle. He then made his left twice on the left eye, and, as Poulson rushed at him, got down. Two hours had now passed, and the punishment was pretty equally divided. Poulson’s right eye, like Tom’s left, was completely closed, and each of their noses was much out of shape. The right side of Tom’s face was unscathed, but his ribs bore heavy marks of punishment. Poulson had a mouse under his left eye, but was much stronger on his legs than Sayers, and it was still thought he must wear him out. Many also imagined that, as Tom was getting slower, Poulson would knock him out of time with his dangerous right.

69.――Tom tried to lead off with his left, but was stopped twice in succession, and Poulson nailed him on the snorer. Tom returned the compliment by a tidy smack with his right on the mouth, drawing more of the cochineal; slight exchanges followed, and Sayers got down.

70.――Tom’s left was again stopped, and Harry was short in his return. Tom then feinted and popped his double on the nose and right cheek, which he cut slightly.

71.――Poulson let go his left, but did not get home. On Sayers attempting to return, Harry popped him on the nose, and Tom got down.

72.――Poulson’s left was stopped easily; he then tried a one, two, and reached Tom’s mouth with his right; the left, however, did not reach its destination (the unscathed side of Tom’s phisog). In the end Tom got down.

73.――Sayers stopped Poulson’s one, two, and then got home on the right eye. Poulson returned on the chin. Some rapid exchanges followed, Tom making both hands on the mouth and left cheek, and Poulson getting in on Tom’s nose. Poulson closed, when Tom caught him heavily on the mouth, and Poulson got down.

74.――Tom put in a well-delivered left-hander on the damaged peeper. Slight exchanges followed, and Tom got down.

75.――Tom getting more lively every round, and Poulson’s head at last beginning to swell. Tom let go his left on the throat; good counter-hits followed, Poulson on the mouth, and Tom on the side of the head. Poulson then dashed in with his right on the ribs, leaving marks of his knuckles. Tom retaliated on the right eye, and a determined rally followed, in which each got pepper; but Sayers was straighter in his deliveries. In the end he was down. The Poulson party began now to look serious; their man was gradually going blind of both eyes, and Sayers appeared to be no weaker than he was an hour ago, added to which he had still a good eye.

76.――Both came up piping from the effects of the last round. Poulson tried his left twice, but Sayers got away, and, as Harry came after him, met him well on the mouth, and then on the right eye, and in the end both fell side by side.

77.――Sayers came up smiling as well as his distorted mug would allow; he dodged, and then got well over Poulson’s guard on to his left eye. Harry instantly returned on the chin, when Tom once more popped his left on the mouth heavily, and got away. He played round his man and at last sent home another left-hander on the left eye――a cross hit. Poulson just reached his jaw with his right, and Tom got down.

78.――Tom made play with his left on the right ogle, and avoided the return. Poulson persevered, and at last Tom got down in his corner.

79.――Poulson dashed in his right on the nose, but not very heavily; Sayers returned on the right gazer, and napped a heavy right-hander on the cheek, from the effect of which he went down weak.

80.――Tom steadied himself, crept close, and popped his left on the left eye. Poulson rushed at him, and heavy counter-hits were exchanged on the jaw, both coming to the ground side by side.

81.――Tom missed two attempts to deliver, and received another heavy thwack on the bread-basket. Heavy exchanges ensued in favour of Poulson, who was always best at close quarters, and Sayers got down.

82.――Tom came up a little stronger, and let go his left, but not heavily, on the right cheek. Poulson tried a return, but Tom, who gradually retreated, propped him as he came in, on the right eye and nose. Poulson, determined if possible, to make a decided turn in his favour, persevered, and some rattling ding-dong fighting took place, each getting it heavily on the dial, and in the end both were down.

83.――Both looked the worse for the last round, but Poulson’s left eye was fast following suit with his right, and it was evident to all that if Sayers kept away it was a mere question of time. Sayers feinted, put in his double very neatly on the mouth, and then got a hot one on the left cheek. Good exchanges at close quarters followed, in which Poulson’s visitations to Tom’s snout were anything but agreeable, while Tom was busy on the right eye. This was another ding-dong round, and astonished every one after the men had fought so long. In the end Sayers got down, and Poulson fell on his knees at his side.

84.――Tom’s double was once more successful, and he got well on Harry’s smeller. Poulson once more reached the left side of the nut, just by the ear, and Tom fell.

85.――Poulson led off with his left, getting well on Tom’s nose. Good counter-hits followed, Tom getting it on the mouth, and Harry on the left eye. Poulson now dashed in, but got one on the right eye; he, however, nailed Tom on the right ear, drawing claret. Another desperate rally followed, in which Jack was as good as his master, and in the end Sayers got down. Two hours and thirty minutes had now elapsed.

86.――Poulson dashed in, but Sayers stepped nimbly back, propping him as he came on the left eye. Harry at last made his right on the left ear, and Tom got down.

87.――Poulson again rushed in, but Sayers, after propping him over the right eye, dropped. Another claim of foul not allowed.

88.――Tom tried his left, but was short; Poulson then rattled in, caught him on the left side of his knowledge-box, and Tom dropped.

89.――Poulson, after being short with his one, two, made his right on the ribs, and Tom fell.

90.――Poulson again hit out of distance; he persevered, and eventually nailed Tom slightly on the nozzle, and that hero wisely got down, by way of a rest, finding that Harry was still dangerous at close quarters.

91.――Tom stopped Harry with great neatness, and then planted his left on the throat; heavy exchanges followed in favour of Poulson, who again reached Tom’s left ear very severely, drawing more of the Burgundy, and Tom fell very weak.

92.――Tom, who staggered up, received a heavy one from Harry’s right on the brow, and got down.

93.――Neither very ready at the call of “Time,” but Tom slowest; he nevertheless came up steady, and, as Poulson rushed in, planted his left very heavily, first on the right eye and then on the nose, and got away, followed by Poulson, who forced the fighting. Heavy exchanges followed, Harry on the ribs and Tom on the forehead, and Tom down.

94.――Poulson for the first time got on to Tom’s right eye, but not heavily; he then popped his right on the ear, and also on the ribs very heavily, staggering Tom, who evidently winced under the latter visitation. Tom, however shook himself together, and some sharp exchanges took place, which ended in Sayers dropping to avoid a fall.

95.――Poulson’s right neatly stopped. He tried again with a rush, but Tom cleverly ducked and got away. Poulson followed him up, and napped a sharp reminder over the right brow; Poulson returned on the chest, and Tom got down.

96.――After some harmless exchanges, Sayers got down, amidst the groans of the Nottingham party.

97.――Poulson was again neatly stopped, and Tom returned heavily on the mouth, turning on the main once more. Poulson made his right on the ribs, and then on the left cheek, and, after one or two harmless passes, Tom got down.

98.――Sayers put in his double on the throat, and Poulson rushed to a close, and, after a brief struggle, Sayers fell; Poulson again, and in the most manly way, avoiding failing on him.

99.――Tom, evidently the best man, dodged, and put in his left on the side of Poulson’s head; Harry wide of the mark with his return. Tom came again, dodged him, and whack went his left on the smelling-bottle. Slight exchanges followed, and then Poulson, as Sayers was retreating, caught him a heavy right-hander on the jaw which knocked him down.

100.――The Poulsonians anxious for the call of “Time;” but to their surprise Tom came up quite steady. He dodged his man, popped in his double on the nose and left peeper without a return, and then on the throat, and in getting back fell.

101.――Poulson, nearly blind, dashed in with determination, and heavy counter-hits were exchanged, Tom getting well on the mouth and Harry on the nose, and Sayers slipped down. Three hours had now elapsed.

102.――Sayers drew a fresh supply of the ruby from Harry’s right cheek, and, in retreating, fell. Another claim of foul.

103.――Poulson went in and made his right on the side of Tom’s head. Tom retreated, advanced, making his usual feint, but, on seeing Poulson coming at him, he tried to get back, and, his legs slipping apart, he could not get himself into a defensive position, and fell. Another claim of foul was here made; but the referee, who had not seen the round, owing to the interposition of the bodies of the seconds and backers of Poulson, pronounced “fair;” and in his decision we decidedly concur, as, in our opinion, the fall on the part of Sayers was entirely unpremeditated and accidental. It was for some time before order was restored; and the delay was of the greatest advantage to Sayers, while it had an opposite effect on Poulson, whose left eye was now all but closed.

104.――Tom came up gaily, dodged his man, who came towards him, and then nailed him heavily on the proboscis and left peeper. A close followed, and Sayers got down.

105.――Slight exchanges, in which no damage was done, and Sayers slipped down.

106.――Poulson dashed in to make a last effort, and heavy counter-hits were exchanged. Sayers caught him on the left eye, and received a heavy rib-bender and then a crack on the left ear, whereupon he dropped.

107.――Sayers, bleeding from the left ear, came up slowly and feinted in his usual style; caught Harry on the right eye, and then on the mark. Poulson popped his right heavily on the ribs, and another give-and-take rally followed, at the end of which Sayers, who was still weak on his legs, got down.

108.――Poulson’s face was now much swollen and there was scarcely a glimmer from his left peeper. He was, however, still strong as ever on his pins. He rushed in, knowing he had no time to spare, and caught Tom heavily with his right on the left ear. Exchanges followed, Sayers being straightest. Poulson bored in, and got home heavily with his right on the ribs, when Tom delivered his left heavily on the jaw, and knocked him down.

109, and last.――The last blow had evidently been a settler for the gallant Poulson: he came up slowly and all abroad. The game fellow tried once more to effect a lodgement, but missed, his head came forward and Tom delivered the _coup de grâce_ by a heavy right-hander on the jaw, which again knocked the veteran off his legs, and, on being taken up, he was found to be deaf to the call of “Time.” He recovered in a few minutes, and shed bitter tears of disappointment at the unsatisfactory and unexpected termination of his labours. Sayers walked to a public house adjoining the field of battle, and of course was vociferously congratulated by his friends and admirers upon his triumphant success. Poulson was also conveyed to the public-house, and, after taking some refreshment, became himself. He was quite blind, and his mug otherwise much battered, but beyond this had sustained no serious injuries. Sayers complained a good deal of the punishment about his body, and the repeated visitations to the side of his head, but of course the fact of his being the winner went far to allay the physical suffering he endured. Both were enabled to return to town in the same train with their friends, and arrived at their respective houses about half-past nine o’clock. The fight lasted three hours and eight minutes.

REMARKS.――Owing to the minute details which we have given of all the material incidents in this really extraordinary battle, we may spare our readers the trouble of reading many observations upon the respective merits of the men, of which the account of the different rounds will have enabled them to form as correct an opinion as ourselves. Tom Sayers, by his quickness on his legs, his steadiness and excellent judgment, not only astonished his adversary and his backers, but completely took his own friends by surprise. He had evidently much improved, in every possible way, since his defeat by Nat Langham. Great fault was found with him for his too constant resort to the dropping system; but for this he had every excuse. He scarcely ever went down without having had a bustling round, and once only during the battle did we observe anything at which an impartial man would cavil. This was at a period in the middle of the fight when he was extremely weak, and at the time no appeal was made by the friends of Poulson. It must be taken into consideration that Tom was anything but himself, and the ground was far from favourable for keeping on his legs and getting out of the reach of his weighty and powerful adversary. It has been urged that the ground was as much against Poulson as Sayers; but this was hardly so. Poulson is a steady ding-dong fighter, of the squarest build, does not depend much on his defensive tactics, and makes little use of his legs; while Tom had to be continually jumping back, and, when opposed to such superior weight, would of course find proportionate difficulty in keeping on his pins. Indeed, many times when he fell he came to the ground with such a “thud” as must have shaken a good deal of his strength out of him. We are aware that since the match had been made many things had occurred to harass Tom’s mind, and that he had pecuniary difficulties to contend with which, we trust, will not exist in future matches; and this, again, must be taken into consideration. He does not want for friends, and, we doubt not, with steadiness and good conduct, will find himself on the high road to prosperity. Of Harry Poulson’s gallantry and manliness we cannot say too much. He fought from first to last in a game, straightforward manner, with an evident determination to do his best to win in a fair and honourable way. He scorned to take advantage of many opportunities of falling on his man, when he might have done so with perfect fairness, and otherwise comported himself in a manner as reflects the very highest credit upon his character as a man, and a demonstrator of the noble art of self-defence. Although evidently annoyed at being unable to get home as he expected, he still never allowed his temper to get the better of him; and often when Tom, from his shifty tactics, evaded what had been intended as a finisher, he stood and shook his head at him, as much as to say it was too bad, but not once did he allow a harsh or angry expression to escape him. He is truly one of the gamest of the game; but he is too slow, and depends too much on his right hand, to have much chance of success against a really finished boxer. We do not consider that his age had anything to do with his defeat, for he is as fresh as most London boxers who are ten years his juniors. His bravery and universal good conduct cannot but secure him the respect and support of all admirers of such good qualities.

The conquest of Poulson was unquestionably the greatest achievement of Sayers’s pugilistic career. He was now established as a man with whom the men under 12 stone on the boxing list must not meddle; at any rate, none other were likely to get backers against him.

From this period the name of Tom Sayers mixes itself with every question of the belt and the Championship.

In the year 1855, a proposition was set on foot by a number of patrons of the Ring, to raise, by subscription, a sum of money to purchase a belt of greater intrinsic value than anything of the kind previously presented, in lieu of the belt which had “gone astray” during the squabbles between Bendigo, Caunt, and the Tipton Slasher. Lists were opened, and before long a sum of nearly £100 was collected. To Mr. Hancock, of New Bond Street, was entrusted the manufacture of the trophy, and from that gentleman’s establishment was produced the elegant badge of the highest fistic honours which Tom Sayers so well and so worthily won. On the belt being ordered, the committee who undertook its management issued the following as the conditions on which it should be held: “That it should not be handed over to any person claiming the Championship until he had proved his right to it by a fight; that any pugilist having held it against all comers for three years, without a defeat, should become its absolute possessor; that the holder should be bound to meet every challenger of any weight who should challenge him for the sum of £200 a side, within six months after the issue of such challenge, within the three years; that he should not be bound to fight for less than £200 a side; that at the final deposit for every match within the three years the belt should be delivered up to the committee until after the battle; and, finally, that on the belt being given to the winner of any Champion-fight, he should deposit such security as should be deemed necessary in the hands of the committee to ensure the above regulations being carried out.”

No sooner did it become known that the belt was ready for whosoever could win it, than there was a general stirring up of the dormant energies of the big men who had retired, or thought to be about to retire, from the Ring. Harry Broome shook himself together; the Tipton Slasher roused him from his lair; Tom Paddock’s hair stood on end between hope and fear of disappointment; while Aaron Jones, who about this time (1855) had fought the second of two tremendous battles with Paddock, and, though defeated, had entirely removed any impressions as to his want of pluck caused by his battles with Harry Orme, also pricked up his ears, and issued a defiant grunt. The only man among the recent combatants for Champion’s honours who made no sign was Harry Orme, who was content to rest upon his well-earned reputation. At first it was thought there would not be found a man sufficiently venturous to tackle the “Ould Tipton,” but this was soon seen to be a fallacy; for not one only, but each and every of the aspirants sent out a defiance to the crooked-legged hero of the hardware districts. The first cartel that reached him was that of Aaron Jones, and with him preliminaries were at once arranged.

The challenges of Broome and Paddock arriving afterwards, the Slasher informed them that they must wait the issue of the struggle with Jones. Broome and Paddock seemed both disinclined to wait for this event, and neither was desirous of postponing his claims to those of his co-challenger, and, as a natural consequence, a good deal of badinage took place between them, which ended in their being matched for £200 a side, to ascertain which should have the preference. While they were in training Aaron Jones was compelled to forfeit to the Tipton Slasher, through meeting with an accident during his training; so that there appeared a clear course for the winner.

The fight between Broome and Paddock took place on the 19th of May, 1856, and was won by Tom Paddock with ease in 51 rounds, and 63 minutes, it being at once apparent that, though Harry Broome had all the will and the courage to do deeds of valour, the power had deserted him, and he had become prematurely old and stale. (See page 294.)

Soon after Paddock’s defeat of Broome, Paddock obtained the acme of his desires――viz., a match with his old opponent, the Slasher; but when £80 a side had been staked Master Tom allowed his temper to get the better of his judgment, and, having offended his best friends, had to forfeit through a scarcity of “ochre.” This was not only a disappointment to himself, but also to his opponent, who was thus foiled in his efforts to get hold of the belt, which could not be obtained without a mill, and which he had made sure of winning from Tom Paddock. Just previous to this mishap Jones had recovered from his accident, and, to the surprise of all, had been matched with the “coming man,” Tom Sayers; so that even here the “Old’un” was again done out of an opponent, and the belt still remained in abeyance, to abide the issue between Sayers and Jones, the winner to meet the ponderous Tipton for the coveted trophy. This fight, which took place on the banks of the Medway, on the 19th February, 1857, we now propose to narrate.

Owing to the puritanical persecution to which the Ring had been for some time subjected, a line of country had to be selected which had for a long time been untried, so that there was every prospect of matters being adjusted in that quarter without let or hindrance. Although bills were circulated, stating that a train would leave the Great Northern Station at King’s Cross on Tuesday at nine o’clock, it was at the eleventh hour considered that the locality would on the present occasion be too “warm,” and therefore, an alteration was deemed prudent. This alteration could not be made public at so late a period, and it was only those who happened to consult the initiated at the benefit of the Pugilistic Benevolent Association, on the previous Monday evening, who got a due to the real state of the case. The consequence was that on Tuesday morning, at the Fenchurch Street Station, there were at the utmost 180 persons, including a considerable number of patricians and a very small proportion of the professors of the noble art, while of the “roughs” and other noisy demonstrators there was an almost total absence. These gentry and some few unfortunates of the higher class hastened to the Great Northern terminus at the hour named in the handbills, and great was their disappointment, and loud their indignation, at finding themselves sold.

The start from Fenchurch Street took place at eight o’clock precisely, and by nine o’clock Tilbury was reached, where all at once embarked in a vessel provided for the purpose, and by twenty minutes to ten were safely on board, and, greatly to the credit of the managers of the expedition, a start was at once effected. In order to throw dust in the eyes of the Blues, it was determined to proceed straight to the mouth of the river; and, in the face of a stiff gale from E.N.E., the journey to the Nore was effected in excellent style. The lumpy water in this locality had, as may be imagined, a most unpleasant effect upon many of the voyagers, whose stomachs, unaccustomed to salt water, and anything but improved in tone by their nocturnal vigils (as they had sat up all night in order to be early in the morning), were turned inside out; and the consequence was that swabs and buckets of water were in strong demand. After about an hour’s tossing among the billows, “’bout ship” was the cry, the river was re-entered, and the vessel sped homewards until a spot was reached not far from Canvey Island, where Freeman and the Tipton Slasher fought. With some difficulty a landing was effected, and Tom Oliver, Tom Callas, Puggy White, &c., proceeded to form the lists, although it was not without extraordinary exertions that anything like a favourable spot could be found, and even this was rough and extremely uneven, from the late heavy weather. Numerous were the mishaps of the company on landing, but by no means equal to those they experienced on attempting to regain the vessel after the battle was over, when thick darkness overspread the land, and led many an unwary traveller into mud and mire of the most consistent character. The ring was pitched by half-past twelve o’clock, and a tolerable outer ring was established; but, as usual when the attendance is small, the difficulty of preserving this outer circle intact was very great, and towards the close of the fight, notwithstanding the exertions of some of the ring-keepers, the spectators crowded close to the ring, but, fortunately, did not disturb the ropes and stakes.

The combatants, who had made a sort of demi-toilette on board the steamer, quickly entered the ring, Sayers attended by Jemmy Welsh and George Crockett, Jones advised by Alec Keene and Mike Madden. The stake was £100 a side. The career of Tom’s youthful antagonist will be found sketched at pages 253, 283, and 289 of this volume. Jones had the advantage of Sayers in age by five years; his height 5 feet 11½ inches, and his weight 12st.

Jones, after his defeat by Orme, was on the shelf for a period of two years. He then came out with a challenge to Tom Paddock, which was accepted, and the men met July 18, 1854, at Long Reach, for £100 a side, and, after as gallant a struggle as was ever witnessed, Jones became blind, and his friends gave in for him, after fighting 121 rounds in two hours and twenty-four minutes. So satisfied were his backers on this occasion that they at once expressed their willingness to make a fresh match. After some little time articles were entered into, and they went into training for the second mill. This affair came off at Mildenhall on the 26th of June, 1855, and was another display of manly courage and perseverance on both sides. Towards the close Jones, who for some time had the best of it, fell off very weak, and Paddock, who, like his opponent, was much punished and exhausted, saw that his time was come, and, shaking himself together, he rattled away in style until poor Aaron was once more compelled to cry “a go,” after a contest of sixty-one rounds, in one hour and twenty-nine minutes. Jones after this was matched with the Tipton Slasher, as we have already stated, but this went off; and this brings us to the present meeting.

On entering the ring both men were loudly cheered, and both looked equally confident. No sooner had they put in an appearance than speculation began. The Sayers party originally stood out for 6 to 4, but being unable to get on at that price, they reduced their demands to 5 to 4, at which price considerable business was done, and a bet of £10 to £8 was made and staked between the men. It was piercingly cold; and, the ground being in a moist state, all looked anxious for business, in the hope that the excitement of the combat would dispel some of the shivering fits to which the spectators, one and all, notwithstanding their Crimean-looking outfits, seemed to be subject. Little time was lost by the men in denuding themselves of their remaining outer-garments, and, the handkerchiefs having been tied to the stakes (a light grey and white for Sayers, and a neat white and blue check for Jones), at one o’clock precisely “Time” was called, hands were clasped, and the men began

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――On baring their forequarters to the piercing breeze, a perceptible shiver ran through the carcases of the combatants. Sayers looked in perfect condition; every muscle was perceptible, and we doubt whether there was an ounce of superfluous flesh about him. There was a smile of confidence on his lips and bright sparkle in his eye that betokened extraordinary health and spirits. His attitude was artistic and firm, yet light. Of course he stood on the defensive, and eyed his heavier opponent. There did not appear to be that disparity of size that really existed; for Jones stooped rather on throwing himself on guard, and thus reduced his height almost to a level with that of the gallant Tom, who was upright as a dart. Aaron’s condition did not seem to us so first-rate as the first glance at him had led us to suppose. His muscles, though large, were too well covered, while his back and chest also displayed much superfluous meat, and we should say that his weight could not have been less than 12st. 4lbs. He, like Sayers, looked confident, but was far more serious in his demeanour. They both commenced the round with the utmost caution, sparring, and attempting to draw one another into something like an opening; but for a long time neither would throw a chance away. At length Jones dashed out left and right; but the blows passed over Tom’s shoulders, and Tom with quickness tapped Aaron on the face, but without force. Sayers now let go his left, but Jones retreated. Tom persevered, and was cleverly stopped. In a third attempt, after more dodging, he got heavily on Aaron’s mouth and stepped back without a return. Jones now assumed the offensive, but was stopped, and Tom, after another dodge or two, planted his left heavily on the mark, and then the same hand on the side of Aaron’s nut, but not heavily. Jones returned heavily on the right peeper, and shortly after made a second call at the same establishment. More stopping and dodging, until Sayers paid another visit to Aaron’s kisser, Jones missing his return. Each now stopped a lead; but immediately afterwards Jones popped in his left on the snuff-box, a heavy hit without a return. Tom grinned a ghastly grin; but the crack evidently made him see stars. Jones attempted to repeat the dose; but Tom got well away, and, as he retreated, popped his left on the neck. More excellent stopping on both sides, and, after a few harmless exchanges, Tom tried a double with his left and got on the throat, but the blow lacked steam. Jones returned with quickness over the left peeper, inflicting a cut and drawing the claret. (“First blood” for Jones.) Tom, although staggered, was undaunted, and went at his man with determination. He once more got on the bread-basket heavily. Good counter-hits followed, in which Jones again reached Tom’s damaged peeper, drawing more of the essential, and Tom delivered a straight one on the snout, removing a small portion of the bark. Tom then got on the left eye, and, after some sharp punching at close quarters, both fell. This round lasted exactly half an hour.

2.――Tom came up much flushed, and the crimson distilling from his damaged eye. After a little dodging, he tried his double, but did not get it home. He tried a second time, but was stopped, and Jones returned on the left eye. This led to very heavy counters, each on the larboard goggle. Jones now feinted, and popped his left on the nose. They got hold of one another, swung round, broke away, and Sayers then popped his left again on the left eye. Severe exchanges followed at close quarters, and both in the end were down.

3.――Sayers quickly led off with his left, and was stopped. He then tried his double, but was short. In a third essay he got home on Aaron’s nose, but not heavily. Twice again did he pop in gentle taps, but he now napped another rattler on the left eye. Severe exchanges followed, Aaron again turning on the stream from Tom’s left brow, and Tom tapping his opponent’s snuff-box. More exchanges in favour of Jones; and in the end both fell in a scrambling struggle, Jones under.

4.――Tom’s left brow and the left side of his canister were much swollen, but he was still confident, and led off, Jones countering him well on the mouth. Heavy exchanges followed, Tom on the nose, and Jones on the left cheek, and both again slipped down, the ground being anything but level.

5.――Tom let fly his left, but was neatly stopped; Jones returned on the side of the brain pan, and got down.

6.――Sayers came up, looking very serious, and it subsequently turned out that he was suffering from severe cramp in the stomach and lower extremities. He went in, feinted, and got well home on Jones’s left eye. This led to sharp exchanges and a close, when both were down, Jones being underneath. Aaron had now a bump on his left peeper, which was apparently closing.

7.――Aaron lost no time in sending out his left, which fell on Tom’s chest. Heavy counter-hits followed, Jones on the nose, and Tom on the mouth. More exchanges in favour of Sayers, who again got on Aaron’s damaged optic, and the latter got down.

8.――Sayers went to his man, and tried his double, the second blow dropping on Aaron’s sneezer, and Tom then got cleverly away from the return. Exchanges ensued, Tom on the mark, and Aaron on the mazzard; Aaron then got home his right heavily on the left side of Tom’s knowledge-box, then his left on the left eye, and in the close Sayers was down.

9.――Aaron led off, but was well stopped, and this led to some sharp exchanges, Jones on the bad peeper, and Tom on the left brow. Sayers tried another double, and once more visited Aaron’s nose, but not heavily. More mutual stopping, and Jones, at length, in getting away, slipped and fell. One hour had now elapsed.

10.――Tom planted his left on the beak, and received a little one in return on the forehead. Jones now let fly his left and right, but was cleverly stopped. In a second essay he got home on the left cheek. Heavy exchanges followed, Tom getting on both peepers, and Jones on the side of Tom’s cranium with both daddles, and Tom fell.

11.――Aaron had now a mark on each peeper, the left fast closing. Tom’s left, too, appeared almost shut up. Jones tried to take the lead, but missed; Sayers likewise missed his return. Exchanges followed in favour of Jones, who, in the end, closed, and in the struggle both fell, Jones uppermost.

12.――No time lost; both quickly at it, and some sharp exchanges took place in favour of Jones, who got heavily on Tom’s nose. Tom made his left on the body heavily, and they then pegged away wildly at close quarters until Jones got down.

13.――Aaron dashed in and pegged away left and right, but without precision, and ultimately bored his man down.

14.――Jones feinted and popped his left on the left eye, without a return. Tom then let go his left, but was short, and Jones, in dashing at him in return, slipped and fell.

15.――Aaron led off, left and right, but Tom got away. He came again, and tried to plant his left, but was short. He then tried his double, but Jones got away. Both now sparred and dodged, but nothing came of it. At last Jones dashed in, and heavy exchanges took place in favour of Jones, who, however, in the end, fell.

16.――Both at once went to work, and heavy exchanges took place, each napping it on the left ogle, and both fell through the ropes.

17.――Tom’s forehead and left eye much disfigured. Jones let fly his left and right on the sides of the nob very heavily, and both again fell through the ropes.

18.――Tom came up slowly, and was nailed on the damaged peeper. In return he caught Aaron on the brow, but not heavily. Jones then made his left and right on the side of the head and left eye, and Tom retaliated on the nose a little one. A close followed, and in the end both were down, Jones under.

19.――Tom dodged and got home on Aaron’s smeller with his left, and Aaron then made both hands on the left side of Tom’s wig-block. A close and sharp struggle, when both fell, Tom under.

20.――Jones dashed in and let go both hands on the head. Tom returned on the left brow, and both fell backwards.

21.――Aaron again dashed in. He missed his right, closed, and both fell, Jones under.

22.――Tom now led off, but missed, and Jones caught him heavily with his right on the frontispiece, and knocked him down. (“First knock-down for Jones.”)

23.――Tom, on coming up, showed the effect of the last blow on his forehead. He attempted to lead off, but was very short. He tried again with a like result; and Jones, in letting go both hands in return, overreached himself and fell.

24.――Aaron rattled in, planted his left and right on the scent-box and left ear, the latter very heavy, and bored Tom down.

25.――Tom came up bleeding from a severe cut on the left lug, and his gnomon much out of straight. He tried to lead off, but Jones caught him on the right brow, but not very heavily. Tom then got home on the body, and tremendous counter-hits followed, in favour of Jones, who, in the end, slipped and fell, Tom catching him, just as he reached the ground, on the side of the head.

26.――Jones went in left and right, closed, and both were down. Sayers was now very weak, and the Jonesites were in ecstasies.

27.――Aaron led off, getting well on the side of Tom’s nut with his right. Tom missed his return, and Jones then planted his left and right on the top of the skull; closed at the ropes, where Tom managed to throw him but not heavily.

28.――Jones led off, and got well on Tom’s nose with his left, and Tom returned on the side of the head. After a little dodging, Jones popped his left on Tom’s left peeper, and his right on the jaw, again flooring Tom and falling on him.

29.――Tom, who was excessively weak, came up slow, but determined; he tried his left at the body, but was short. Jones then let fly his left in return, but was countered on the mouth. He then planted his left and right on Tom’s damaged listener, and in the end fell.

30.――Aaron, after a few dodges, once more popped a little ’un on Tom’s ear. Tom thereupon dashed in, but got a little one on the nose, and another on the side of the head, and Jones, in getting away, fell, laughing.

31.――Jones attempted to lead off, but Tom got away. Jones followed him up, caught him again on the side of the nob, closed, and both rolled over together.

32.――Jones dashed in, planted both hands on the brain-pan, closed, and forced Tom down.

33.――Jones again rushed in, but inflicted no damage, and again bored Tom down.

34.――Jones still forced the fighting, and caught Tom, who seemed very tired, on the side of the head, and, in the end, both slipped down.

35.――Sayers was forced down, after getting a gentle reminder on the side of his damaged figure-head.

36.――Tom, a little refreshed, sparred about for wind, until Jones went in, and heavy exchanges took place, in favour of Jones, when both fell backwards.

37.――Tom, recovering a little, tried his double, but Jones got away, and, as Tom came, he nailed him on the left brow. Tom then made his left on the mark, but again napped it heavily on the left eye. Aaron now got on the nose with his left――a heavy spank――and, in getting back, he staggered and fell.

38.――Jones dodged, and planted his left on the mouth heavily, and his right on the side of the head. Tom returned slightly on the nose, and, after slight exchanges, both fell.

39.――Very slight exchanges, and Sayers slipped down.

40.――After a little sparring they got close, and exchanges took place, each getting it on the mouth. Sayers then tried his left at the mark, but Jones got away. Tom followed him up, and was caught by Aaron, left and right, on the side of his head and fell.

41.――Tom came up, shook himself, and rattled in, but he got it on the top of his cranium. Jones, in stepping back, fell. Two hours had now expired.

42.――Jones, steady, let go his left on the side of Tom’s head, and then both mauleys on the same spot. Tom followed him up, but got it again on the brow. He, however, got home on Jones’s body, and, in retreating slipped and fell.

43.――Long sparring for wind, until Jones once more made play on the left side of Tom’s occiput, and then on his snout. Tom returned on the latter organ, but not heavily. He now tried his favourite double, but did not get home. In a second attempt he got heavily on Aaron’s proboscis, and got away. Exchanges followed, in which Tom again delivered heavily on the nose with his left, and in the end Jones dropped.

44.――Tom was now evidently recovering from his exhaustion. He came up steadier, and sparred shiftily until Jones commenced the attack, when he stopped him neatly. Heavy counter-hits followed on the jaw, after which Sayers tried the double once again, but was stopped. More good counter-hits, Tom getting well on Aaron’s left eye, and receiving on the mouth. Aaron’s left eye all but closed.

45.――More sparring, until Jones let fly his left, but Sayers got away. Exchanges followed, Tom on the whistler, and Jones on the nose, but not heavily. More sharp counter-hitting, Tom once more getting on the left eye severely. Jones returned, but not effectively, with both hands on the side of the head, and in getting away from the return he fell.

46.――Jones succeeded in planting a spanking hit from the left on the left eye, and then another with the same hand on the left cheek. In a third attempt he was stopped. Heavy counter-hits followed, and in the end Jones fell, Sayers falling over him.

47.――Aaron feinted with his left, and got well on Tom’s nose; a very straight hit. Tom, in return, tried his double, but was short. After some more ineffectual attempts they got to it, and tremendous exchanges took place, each getting it on the nose and left eye, and in the end Jones got down. Two hours, fifteen minutes.

48.――Tom tried to lead off, but was stopped, and Jones planted his left on the cheek. Tom now stopped two of Jones’s hits, after which heavy exchanges took place, Tom getting well on to the left eye, and Jones on the nose. More sharp exchanges, left and right, each getting pepper in earnest, and the favours mutually divided. A break away, and to it again, ding-dong, and Tom drew the crimson from Aaron’s left peeper, which was now effectually closed. In the end Jones fell. It was now anybody’s battle; Tom had quite recovered his wind, and was nearly as strong as his heavier opponent.

49.――Both much punished. Sayers sparred until Jones tried to lead off, when he got away. Jones followed him up, but was short in his deliveries. In the end they closed, and as they were falling Tom popped his right sharply on Aaron’s back.

50.――Jones, after sparring, led off, and got home on the nose, but not heavily; Tom returned on the right peeper, and some pretty exchanges, left and right, took place, followed by a break away, and Jones then stopped Tom’s left; Tom, in return, stopped Aaron, and planted his left on the mark, and then on the left eye, and Jones got down.

51.――Jones led off, but was stopped. He persevered, and a good give-and-take rally followed, Jones getting on the left eye, and Tom on the left cheek heavily. Tom next got on the mouth, drawing the Burgundy, and then on the nose and left cheek. Another sharp rally followed, after a break away, and in the end both down.

52.――Sayers visibly improving while Jones fell off. Jones was short in his lead, and Tom returned on the smelling-bottle, and got away. Jones followed and dashed out his left, but Tom ducked his head. Tom then got home on the mouth and nose, and drew more of the ruby from the latter ornament. Jones succeeded in returning a little ’un on the left eye, and Sayers slipped down.

53.――Jones, who was bleeding from the left eye and month, led off, but was well stopped. He then missed his left, but in the end heavy exchanges, left and right, took place, Jones on the side of the nut and the neck, and in getting back he fell.

54.――Tom now essayed a lead, but was stopped. A second attempt reached Aaron’s body, but not heavily, and Jones returned on the nose. Tom tried his double, but missed, and Jones popped a little one on the mouth, and then his left on the left eye, and fell in the corner.

55.――Tom dodged about until he got within distance, and then got home heavily on the mark. Jones returned on the jaw with his right, but not heavily. After some more sparring, Jones dashed in, when Tom met him very sharply on the right cheek-bone with his left, and Aaron fell all of a heap. He was carried to his corner, where it was with the utmost difficulty he could be got round at the call of “Time.”

56.――Jones came up all abroad, and Tom popped in another spank on the same spot, whereupon Jones again fell. It was thought to be all over; but, by dint of shaking him up, Aaron was again enabled to respond to the call.

57.――Tom rushed at his man to administer the _coup de grace_, but, going in without precision, he contrived to run against Aaron’s left, which was swung wildly out, the blow, which alighted on Tom’s nose, regularly staggered him. He quickly recovered himself, and went in again, but Jones fell weak.

After this, the battle continued to the 62nd round, Jones getting gradually blind, and Sayers becoming very tired. At length in the 62nd round, after slight exchanges, the men, who were much exhausted, stood still, looking at each other for some time, their seconds covering them with rugs. Upon this the referee and umpires called on them to go in and finish. Both went to the scratch, but on Sayers approaching Jones, the latter retreated to his corner, and Tom, in obedience to the orders of his seconds, declined going to fight him there. It was getting dark, and it was clear that Jones and his friends were determined not to throw a chance away. The referee once more called on Jones to go to the scratch, which he did, but with precisely the same result; and the referee, seeing that Tom was not strong enough to go with prudence to finish on his adversary’s ground, and that Jones was unwilling to try the question at the scratch in his then exhausted state, ordered the men to shake hands, leaving the motion as to further hostilities to a future day. Both were severely punished; each had a peeper closed; Jones’s right was fast following his left, and his right hand was injured; so that a second meeting the same week was not to be thought of. The fight lasted exactly three hours. The men and their friends now hastened to regain the vessel, and it was dark long ere the last of the company were safely on board. Of course there were many laughable accidents in the mud through which all had to wade; but luckily, nothing occurred of a serious nature to mar the pleasures of the day, which, although in some measure clouded by the fact that the battle was not finished, still left sufficient impression on the minds of the spectators to cause them to remember this brilliant passage of arms, which formed so hopeful an opening to the pugilistic year 1857. The vessel conveyed the company with all due speed to a convenient place for debarkation, whence they obtained a passage by railway to the Metropolis, which was reached in safety by nine o’clock. Numerous complaints were made by the disappointed ones who went to the Great Northern Railway, at the manner in which they were deceived; and the only consolation is that we are sorry for those whom we should have been glad to welcome at the ring-side, but who have themselves alone to blame for not finding out the final fixture as many others had done; while as to others of a certain class, who are always more free than welcome, we can with truth say their room was better than their company, and we rejoice, with others who were present, that they were so completely sold. Some unlucky wights got a sort of hint as to the fixture, and arrived within a few miles of the spot at a late hour in the afternoon, and were landed, but unluckily for them, on the wrong island, and here the poor fellows had to remain all night, and sleep under a haystack. The boats that landed them had departed, and they could make no one hear; so that, cold, hungry, and thirsty, they had to weather the cold, severe night in the best way they could.

The renewed battle, which was for £200 and an additional bet of £100, was fixed for Tuesday, the 10th February, 1857, on the same spot as the previous gallant encounter. On this occasion Sayers was seconded by Jemmy Massey and Bill Hayes, with Jemmy Welsh as bottle-holder; Aaron Jones by Alec Keene and Jack Hicks, Jack Macdonald taking care of the restoratives. 7 to 4 on Sayers.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――On toeing the scratch the condition of both men struck the spectators with admiration. In our opinion it was perfect on both sides, but the development of muscle was decidedly in favour of Sayers, who is better ribbed up, and has his thews and sinews laid on in the right place. He looked brown, wiry, and healthy, and, for a middle weight, seemed wonderfully big. Jones, who is of fairer complexion, was altogether more delicate in appearance than Sayers, and, although so much taller, heavier, and longer, did not loom out so much larger as might be expected. He is a fine-made, muscular young fellow, but still there is an appearance about him which at once leads to the conclusion that his stamina is scarcely fitted for the wear and tear of gladiatorial encounters. He is about twenty-six years of age, and in height is over 5 feet 11 inches, while Tom Sayers is thirty-one, and is little more than 5 feet 8 inches. It was soon seen that Sayers intended to pursue different tactics to those he adopted on the previous occasion. He dodged about for a few seconds, and then let go his left and right with great quickness, but Jones stopped him neatly, and in getting back fell.

2.――Tom came up smiling, feinted with his left, and then tried his favourite double; the first hit was stopped, but the second caught Aaron on the chin. This he repeated, and got away without a return. After trying his double once more without success, he planted his left very heavily on the mark. Jones at once went to close quarters, and some quick in-fighting took place in favour of Sayers, who got well on to Aaron’s snuffbox with his left, drawing “first blood.” Jones got on the left side of Tom’s head, but not heavily, and at length both fell.

3.――Both quick to the call of “Time,” and Sayers at once went to work with his left, Jones countering him heavily, each getting it on the forehead. Tom then popped his left on the mark, and Aaron returned, but not heavily, on the nose. Tom now again planted the left on the mark, and was stopped in a second effort. Heavy exchanges next took place, Tom once more drawing the cork from a cut on Aaron’s sniffer, and receiving on the left ear. After a few dodges, Tom again approached, and made a heavy call on Aaron’s bread-basket, then planted a stinger between the eyes, and got away laughing. He attempted to repeat the dose, but was stopped. Another effort was more successful, and he dropped on the mark, staggering Jones, who, however, recovered himself, and popped his left on the chest, then on the left cheek, but not heavily. Sparring until Tom got within distance and shot out his left heavily on the proboscis, without a return, Jones being a little wild. Tom now essayed his double, but Jones got away, and returned on the mouth. Tom persevered, and napped a little ’un on the left eye for his pains; still, he would be at work, and got well on Aaron’s left peeper, drawing the ruby. Heavy exchanges followed, Jones getting on Tom’s left brow, and Tom turning on the home-brewed from Aaron’s nasal organ. After two or three slight exchanges in favour of Sayers, he again put the double on, reaching the left cheek and bread-basket. Next he popped another hot one on the victualling department, receiving a slight return on the forehead. After a break away he stole in, and bang went his left on Aaron’s damaged eye, drawing more of the ruby. A merry little rally followed in favour of Sayers, who at last broke away, and sparred as if blown from his fast fighting. Jones approached to take advantage of this, when Tom propped him on the brow, and then on the forehead. Jones returned with both hands, but not heavily, on the brow and body, and another bustling rally came off, Tom getting home on the left ogle and throat heavily, and Aaron on the larboard cheek. Another break away, and Tom, on getting himself together, resumed the double, got on the mark very heavily, and then popped his right on the left side of Aaron’s nob; he got away laughing, and as Jones tried to follow him up he warned him off by a pop on the left eye. A heavy rally at last took place, in which Jones got sharply on the left ear, and Sayers on the left eye, and this protracted and well-fought round was concluded by Tom slipping down.

4.――Sayers, on coming up, showed a mark on his forehead, and another on his left ear, while Aaron’s left eye and nose were much out of the perpendicular. Tom lost no time in going to work, and planted his one, two, the left on Aaron’s right eye, and the right on the left jaw, knocking Aaron off his pins. (“First knock-down” for Sayers.) Jones seemed all abroad, and it was with the greatest difficulty that he was got round to the call of “Time.”

5.――Sayers at once went in left and right, but he was too anxious to finish his handiwork, and the blows lacked precision. He reached the side of Aaron’s nob, and Jones returned slightly on the same spot, and after mild exchanges, both fell. This gave Jones time to get round, and by the commencement of the next round he had shaken off the nasty one he had got in the fourth.

6.――Tom tried his double, but missed, and Jones rushed in to close, when Tom caught him round the neck and punched him heavily on the left peeper and nozzle, drawing more of the ruby, In the end both fell, Sayers under.

7.――Aaron came up with his left eye all but closed. Tom let go his left, but Jones returned on the nose. Tom tried again and got on the ribs; Jones returned merrily left and right, but did little damage, and Tom fell in his corner.

8.――Jones dashed in and pegged away with both mauleys on the left side or Tom’s knowledge-box; Tom returned on the left brow and closed, when both fell, Tom under.

9.――Jones again dashed in, and some sharp in-fighting took place, followed by a close, in which both fell, Jones, this time, being underneath.

10.――Tom’s dial seemed flushed, but his eyes were still uninjured. Jones rattled in to close, some quick fibbing took place, followed by a long struggle for the fall, which Sayers got and fell on his man. In drawing his legs away, he brought one foot in smart contact with Aaron’s leg, which was claimed as a foul kick, but disallowed by the referee, being evidently accidental.

11.――Jones again took the initiative, and let go both hands on Tom’s forehead, and then his left on the nose. Tom returned on the left eye, and then a squasher on the mark. Exchanges, and Sayers fell, evidently fatigued by his fast fighting.

12.――Jones persevered in his forcing system, and got on the left side of Tom’s cranium, Tom returning very heavily on the nose. Jones again went in, and planted his left under the left optic, closed, and both fell, Tom under.

13.――Jones rushed at Tom, and pegged away at him in his corner. It was a rambling, scrambling round, and both fell, no mischief being done.

14.――Jones again led off, but Tom propped him well on the left eye, and Aaron fell on his face.

15.――Good exchanges on the left cheek, after which Jones got well on Tom’s throat, closed, and both were down.

16.――Jones dashed at Tom, popped in his left and right on the frontispiece and nose, and bored Tom through the ropes.

17.――Jones again opened the ball, got on to Tom’s left ear, closed, and both were down.

18.――Aaron led off on Tom’s nose; Tom returned on the left eye, very heavily, and Aaron fell.

19.――Tom resumed the initiative, and reached Aaron’s nose――by his favourite double. Jones returned, but not heavily, on the forehead; after which Tom cross-countered him prettily on the left peeper, and this led to exchanges in favour of Jones, when Sayers fell.

20.――Both quick to work; good exchanges, and in the end Jones floored Tom by a heavy right-hander on the jaw. (Loud cheers for Jones.)

21.――Jones, elated, rushed in, but Tom steadied him by a straight ’un on the left cheek, and Jones dropped.

22.――Aaron missed both hands, and after some sparring Tom caught him heavily on the left ogle, and Jones dropped. Sayers also fell.

23.――Tom, who seemed getting fresh wind, rattled in, and planted his double on the nose and mouth. Jones rushed at him, and in the scramble Sayers was bored over.

24.――Tom popped a left-hander on the “grubbery,” received a little one on the nose, and fell.

25.――Heavy exchanges, Sayers on the left eye, and Aaron on the nose. Jones slipped down.

26.――Jones led off with both hands, but not heavily, and Tom returned severely on the nose and left eye, which was now quite closed. Jones fell.

27.――Jones rushed to close quarters, and after a brief struggle fell.

28.――Tom feinted, and popped his left twice on Aaron’s damaged peeper. Jones returned on the mouth, and Tom fell.

29.――Jones went to work, catching Tom over the right eye, and Sayers in getting back fell.

30.――Both went to work with good will, and, after sharp exchanges in favour of Sayers, Jones got down.

31.――Aaron tried to lead off, but was well stopped, and Tom returned on the mark. He next popped his left on the left cheek, and in getting away slipped down, just escaping a heavy upper-cut.

32.――Tom feinted, and then got well on to Aaron’s nose with his left, and retreated, Aaron pursuing him. At length they got close, and Tom sent in a stiffener on the scent-box, receiving a right-hander on the left ear, which opened a cut received in their former fight, and both fell.

33.――Tom again seemed tired, and sparred for wind. Jones came to him, when Tom let go his left on the jaw, closed, and both fell.

34.――Tom slowest to time. He tried his left, but was stopped; Aaron closed, and Tom fibbed him on the left eye as they fell.

35.――After a little dodging, they got close, and heavy counters were exchanged. They now closed, and, as they fell, Tom again put a little one on Aaron’s left eye.

36.――A close and a struggle, when both fell, Jones under.

37.――Sayers led off, but was stopped, and, after a wild scramble, Tom fell. One hour and five minutes had now elapsed.

38.――Jones dashed in, but Tom steadied him by a left-hander on the left cheek, and Aaron got down.

39.――Jones, still first, let go left and right on the mouth and left cheek. Sayers returned on the blind eye, and got down.

40.――Jones let fly his left, but missed. Slight exchanges to a close, and both down.

41.――Jones, on the forcing system, planted his left on the jaw and then on the left ear, and as he was pursuing his man he fell on his face.

42.――Jones missed his left. Tom returned open-handed on the back, and Jones dropped.

43.――Jones dashed to a close at the ropes, where they pegged away smartly but ineffectually until they fell.

44.――Tom got home on the left jaw. Aaron missed both hands, and fell.

45.――Jones went to work, but without precision, and as Sayers retreated, Jones fell on his face. It was clear that Tom was carefully nursing himself, while Jones, feeling that both his ogles were going, was forcing the fighting, in order to tire out his opponent before he became blind.

46.――Jones rattled in and caught Tom on the left cheek, but not heavily. Tom returned on the left peeper, drawing more claret, and Jones dropped.

47.――Aaron, in his anxiety, missed both mauleys, and Tom caught him a heavy right-hander on the proboscis, whereupon Jones dropped.

48.――Jones went to his man, who nailed him on the left ogle, and, as Jones persevered, he caught him heavily on the throat, and Jones fell.

49.――Tom tried to lead off, but was short, and Jones returned heavily on the ribs with his right. He then attempted to close, but, on Sayers catching hold of him, he fell.

50.――Tom tried his double, but Jones stopped him, and in getting away slipped down.

51.――Slight exchanges; Jones on the mouth and Sayers on the nose, and Jones down.

52.――Jones led off and was neatly stopped. Tom missed his return, and Jones fell forward.

53.――Tom led off and got on Aaron’s blind eye. Jones returned very slightly on the nose, and fell.

54.――Tom planted his left heavily on the mark, which led to mutual exchanges, and Jones fell.

55.――Tom feinted and popped both hands slightly on Aaron’s good eye, which began to tell tales. Jones returned on the left ear, but it was too long a shot to do damage, and Sayers fell.

56.――Aaron opened the ball, and planted his left and right on the nose and ear twice in succession. He then rushed in, when Tom stopped him by a straight one on the blind eye, and Jones down.

57.――Jones again went to work, but Tom was too quick on his pins, and got out of harm’s way. Sayers missed his return, and Jones fell.

58.――Tom, still on the nursing system, kept himself quiet, waiting for the attack. Jones went in, but Tom stepped back; slight exchanges ensued, and Jones down.

59.――Jones let go his left; Tom ducked his nut, and the blow went over, when Jones fell. A claim of foul, as Jones fell without a blow. The referee said, “Fight on.”

60.――Jones popped his left on the chest; Tom returned on the left cheek, and Jones fell. One hour and a half had now elapsed.

61.――Jones, still first to begin, got on Tom’s nose and fell, Tom falling over him.

62.――Jones planted his left very slightly on the ride of Tom’s nob; Tom just touched him on the smeller in return, and Jones down again.

63.――Jones rushed in, caught Tom on the chin, and Tom fell. The blow was not very heavy.

64.――Jones missed both hands, got a little one on the side of his nut, and fell.

65.――Jones got home, left and right, heavily on the ribs; Tom retaliated on the mark, and Jones down.

66.――Jones let go his left, but Tom avoided the force of the blow by stepping back. He returned on the neck, and Jones got down.

67-71.――In all these rounds Jones led off, but did no mischief, from Tom’s quickness on his pins, and in each Jones was down.

72.――Tom still waiting and resting himself; Jones came in and planted his right on the ribs. Tom returned on the right ogle, but not heavily, and Jones down, his right eye going fast. Sayers, though much tired, had both eyes well open, and his face presented no very serious marks of punishment.

73.――Heavy exchanges, and Jones fell on his face.

74.――Jones tried to lead off, but was stopped. Counter-hits, Sayers on the nose, and Jones on the cheek, and Jones fell.

75.――Heavy exchanges, in favour of Sayers, and Jones down.

76.――Jones, who saw he must do it quickly or not at all, dashed in recklessly, but was stopped. Tom popped a little one on the nose, and Jones down.

77.――Jones was again stopped, and Tom got well on his good eye, and Jones fell.

78.――Sayers stopped Aaron’s rush, and again got on to his good peeper. Jones instantly fell on his knees.

79.――Aaron delivered his left on the nose, and, in trying to repeat it fell on his face. Another claim that he had fallen without a blow not allowed.

80.――Heavy exchanges, Tom getting again on Aaron’s good peeper, which was now all but shut up, and Jones down.

81.――Jones led off, but wofully out of distance, and fell forward.

82.――Exchanges in favour of Sayers, and Jones down weak.

83.――Tom, who saw his time had arrived, went in, planted his favourite double on Aaron’s good peeper, and Jones fell.

84.――After a little fiddling, Tom crept close again, dashed out his left on the good eye, and then on the cheek, and Jones down.

85 and last.――Jones made a last effort, was easily stopped, and, as he turned round Tom caught him with his right a terrific half-arm hit on the right eye, and knocked him off his pins. It was evidently a finisher. Poor Aaron’s nob fell forward, and it was at once apparent that his remaining daylight was closed; and his seconds, seeing this, of course threw up the sponge, Tom being proclaimed the winner, after a gallant battle of exactly _two hours_. Sayers at once went to shake hands with his brave antagonist, and then repaired on board the vessel, whither he was soon followed by Jones, whose damaged peeper was at once looked to by a medical friend. The poor fellow was very severely punished, but he did not seem to feel this so acutely as he did the bitter disappointment of having to play second fiddle to one so much smaller than himself. The expedition quickly got under way, and all reached the Metropolis by nine o’clock. As soon as Sayers was dressed he went round among his fellow-passengers, and made a collection for his fallen antagonist, which reached the sum of £8. Beyond fatigue, and a few trifling bruises on his forehead and nose, he was unscathed, and he certainly could scarcely be said to have a black eye.

REMARKS.――We have little doubt that many of our readers will have anticipated the remarks that we feel called upon to make respecting the two game encounters between these men. On the first occasion it was obvious that Sayers felt he had a great undertaking before him, and he was therefore naturally cautious in the outset not to throw a chance away which might at once put the victory beyond his reach. Jones was known to be a very heavy hitter with his right, as was proved by the severe punishment he dealt out to Tom Paddock in both their mills. Sayers accordingly “played ’possum,” and in the first few rounds allowed him to take the initiative, in order that he might measure his powers carefully before he exposed himself to danger. Tom proved himself extremely quick on his pins, and by his agility he to a certain extent neutralised the effect of Jones’s severe lunges. True, he got hit occasionally with effect, as witness the cut over his left eye, and also on his left ear. Jones, to his surprise, found before him a man clearly his superior at out-fighting, and one, too, as he soon discovered, but little his inferior in bodily strength. For the first hour and a half, it will be recollected, he had apparently the advantage, Sayers suffering severely from cramp, and having to depend principally upon his legs to keep him out of harm’s way; but after this he gradually recovered, and Jones, as was the case in his fights with Paddock, after the said hour and a half, gradually fell off, and became languid in his exertions. Tom, of course, improved the occasion, and showed such superiority in hitting that many thought he would have won with the greatest certainty had not darkness come on. We must confess that, although we did not say so at the time, we entertained a similar opinion, and we at the same time thought that the darkness was in other respects an unfortunate circumstance for Sayers, believing, as we did, that Jones, profiting by experience, would at the next meeting have resorted to a different system of milling, and, by at once going to close quarters, have reduced his adversary to such a state in a few rounds as to render victory certain. It seemed to us that this would have been his game in the first fight, instead of trusting to long shots, at which he found Sayers as good as himself, and we, in common with others, were fully prepared to see him adopt the system. There is no harm now in making known our opinion that Aaron’s performance on the first occasion disappointed us not a little. We all along thought Sayers had overmatched himself, and it was not until the conclusion of the first round that we changed our mind. Many shared our belief that the man who could maul the game and resolute Paddock as Jones had done must prove too much for an antagonist so inferior in size and weight as Sayers, and many blamed the latter for his presumption. Among this latter class we do not number ourselves, for it is our practice never to blame a man for soaring at high game when he really feels confidence in his own powers. Ambition, when kept within bounds, is a praiseworthy quality, and Sayers merely followed the example of other middle weights who had preceded him, in essaying to raise himself to a higher level when he could not find an antagonist worthy of his fist in his own sphere. How fully he was justified in his confident aspirations the result has proved. On Tuesday last, as may be gathered from our account of the fight, Jones fought even less “judgmatically” than at the first merry meeting. Instead of forcing the fighting at once, as he had expressed his intention of doing, he allowed Sayers to open the ball, and in the very onset to inflict such punishment upon him as to shake the confidence of his friends very materially; and not only did he allow his adversary to take extraordinary liberties with him, but he seemed to have lost his precision in returning, and for some time made not the slightest impression upon Tom’s wig-block. The exceedingly clever performance of Sayers in the third round, and the apparent impunity with which he got home upon all parts of Aaron’s dial, took his own friends by surprise, and the fear expressed was that he was fighting too fast for a long day, and that the strength and length of his opponent must tell with fearful effect when he became tired. He was cautioned as to this, but requested to be allowed to fight his own way, as he knew what suited him best. The blow on Aaron’s jaw in the fourth round was very severe, and nearly decided the event, and this we are induced to believe had some effect in stopping his rushes later in the fight, when, had he been capable of continuing the offensive with effect, the result might have been very serious to Tom, who for a long period was exceedingly fatigued, and had to nurse himself in the most careful manner in order to bring himself through. The improvement he (Sayers) displayed in every way, since his last match, was extraordinary. His system of leading off is almost perfect, and his quickness on his legs would have delighted the late Mr. John Jackson, whose opinion on the subject of this qualification is well known. He had little recourse to stopping, trusting to his activity to keep him out of harm’s way, and the success with which his manœuvring was attended was proved by the fact that he had scarcely a black eye, and, beyond exhaustion, had nothing to complain of. In addition to his quickness in defence, he seems also to have acquired greater facility in pursuing the offensive, and the weight with which many of his blows fell upon his opponent proved that his hitting was as effective as that of most 12 stone men. As usual, he stood up in the gamest, most resolute manner, and faced his adversary throughout with the utmost good humour, but, at the same time, with determination. By many it was expected he would have adopted the dropping system, as he had done with Poulson; but we were delighted to perceive that on neither occasion did such a notion enter his head; and indeed we are told that even with the bold Nottingham man he would not have had recourse to it, had he not been terribly out of condition, and altogether in such a state as to be incapable otherwise of resisting the onslaughts of so powerful an opponent. We understand that Tom has now an intention of looking still higher in the scale for an opponent worthy of his powers, and both Tom Paddock and the Tipton Slasher are talked of as his next antagonists, but that he will first rest on his oars a while to recover from his recent fatigue. How far this may be true we know not, but we presume time will show. Of this, however, we are confident, that whoever the Middle Weight Champion may next pick out, that worthy must look to his laurels, and leave no stone unturned to get himself fit for the fray; for big as he may be, he will have a hard day’s work before him. Of Aaron Jones we must say that his exhibition on each day disappointed us, and fell far short of what we expected after his extraordinary encounters with Paddock. True it is that he never once flinched from punishment, and when severely hit persevered in the most manly way to turn the scale in his favour. Not a word can now be said against his character for gameness and gluttony, for both which qualities he had already earned for himself sufficient fame in his passages with Paddock to remove any stigma that his meetings with Orme might have cast upon him. Most gamely did he persevere while Sayers was fatigued to force the milling and to wear out his antagonist; but, owing to the great quickness and judgment of Tom, his efforts recoiled upon himself; and, being unable to effect any punishment, he did but reduce himself below the level of the gallant Tom, and thus fall a prey to his opponent’s superior judgment and tactics.

Sayers’s triumphant _coups d’essai_ with two good “big ’uns” gave him an open “perspective view” of the goal of his ambition――the Championship――an honour never yet achieved by a middle-weight. With this view he addressed a challenge to the redoubtable 13 stone Tipton Slasher, who then claimed the belt; the Tipton having received forfeit in 1856 from Harry Broome, who retired, and in the year 1857 from both Tom Paddock and Aaron Jones.

Never since the memorable battle between Caunt and Bendigo, in Sept., 1845, had there been a match which excited such general interest outside the circle of regular supporters of true British boxing. Here was a man, the acknowledged Champion of the Middle-weights, boldly throwing down the gauntlet to the equally acknowledged Champion of England, and daring him to combat for the title and reward to which for so long a time he had laid claim without meeting an adversary of his own weight and inches daring enough to deny his pretensions. Not a semblance of ill feeling was there existing between the men, and we are glad to state that throughout, even up to the very contest itself, they maintained towards one another the most kindly sentiments. The only matter at issue between them was whether a man of 5 feet 8½ inches, and under 11st. in weight, possessed of whatever science he might be, could contest, with any chance of success, against one topping the 6 feet by half an inch, and weighing not less than 14st. 6lb. The Slasher himself laughed at the idea of defeat, and stated to us his firm belief that on entering the ring he would, in addition to his other advantages, be found the cleverer man of the two. He said he had made up his mind not to run all over the ring after his younger and more active opponent, but to take his stand at the scratch, and await the onslaughts of the gallant Sayers. This we (who knew the bold Tom’s capabilities) deemed a sound determination; how far the burly Tiptonian adhered to it on entering the ring will appear in the sequel. Sayers also, to some measure, made us his confidant as to his intentions on the day of battle, and intimated that he believed the Slasher was perfectly worn-out and incapable of anything like prolonged exertion. He had fully made up his mind, he said, to keep him on his pins, and lead him about the ring, by forcing the pace, until he should be so exhausted as to be somewhat nearer his own mark. He, like the Slasher, scorned the idea of defeat, and felt such intense confidence from the very day the match was made, that he invested almost every penny he possessed upon the result of the encounter. The excitement in all quarters increased week by week from the time the match was made, and in every sporting circle the contest was made one of the great themes of discussion. The general feeling at first appeared to be that Sayers had by his victory over Aaron Jones got above himself, and that his overweening confidence would lead him into unexpected difficulties, if, indeed, as was in many quarters anticipated, the match did not end in a forfeit on his part. As the time approached, however, and it was found that both men were in active work, and evidently both meaning mischief, the doubts as to the match going on vanished, the only point remaining for discussion being the foolhardiness of Sayers, and the overweening confidence of his friends in allowing the match to come to an issue for the full stakes. The Sayers party, however, maintained their own opinion, and from first to last contended that the Slasher was stale and out of practice, that he was destitute of scientific acquirements, and so slow that any want of size and weight on the part of his adversary was fully compensated for by these deficiencies. We believe they never refused to take 6 to 4, and finally accepted 5 to 4 against their pet.

The doings of Tom’s gigantic opponent will be found in our fourth Chapter. We have noted the awakening given to the Ring by the announcement of the New Champion Belt, and the Slasher’s defiant challenge. Tom accepted the terms, and Jemmy Massey immediately made the match for the Tipton; the day being fixed for the 16th of June, 1857. So soon as articles were signed, the Slasher, who was then keeping a public-house in Spon Lane, Tipton, gave up his business and betook himself to training at Boxmoor, where he got off some superfluous flesh acquired in his calling as a Boniface; indeed when we saw him one evening at Owen Swift’s he appeared to have been carefully prepared. He was certainly not so hard and thin as we had seen him some years before; but his complexion was fresh and his muscles well developed, and he told us he “drew the balance at 14st.” He expressed entire confidence, and grinned good humouredly at the bare mention of defeat by so small an opponent. The Tipton left London overnight to avoid interruption, and was picked up on the downward voyage at Tilbury.

The stakeholder (the Editor of _Bell’s Life_) having to name the place of fighting, proposed to charter two steamers; one to convey the men, their seconds and friends, the other a select party of Corinthians; and for this tickets were issued. At the last moment, however, the scheme miscarried, a special boat being unobtainable. A gentleman, however, offered a vessel to start from Southend, with 250 passengers as a maximum number, on the Tuesday morning, to convey the “excursionists” wherever they might wish to go. This offer was gratefully accepted. The number was, subsequently, limited to 200, including ring-keepers, men, and seconds. On arriving at Southend, it was blowing a gale from the S.E., and there was a heavy sea on. The boat could not come alongside the pier, and it was with great difficulty that the passengers were able to get on board. It was upwards of an hour before Tom Oliver and the ropes and stakes were got in.

When all were on board, the vessel steamed out to sea, and rounded the Nore Light. The passage was anything but enjoyable to bad sailors, and many offered their contributions to Neptune in the most liberal manner. The passengers in the fore-part of the vessel were drenched with salt water, but they bore the infliction with stoical good humour. The men entered the ring between two and three, but just as all was arranged, the company seated, and the dressing commenced, a bevy of blues was seen swiftly approaching the ring. _Sauve qui peut_ was the order of the day, and all rushed off to the steamboats, many, in their anxiety, making for the wrong vessel, and many mistakes consequently occurring. All, however, got on board one or the other by three o’clock, and a move was made some miles farther on to an island, where a second debarkation speedily took place. Another ring was pitched, and round it were quickly ranged some 3,00 persons. The movements of the steamer had put all the frequenters of the river on the _qui vive_, and the water was studded with boats and sailing vessels of various sizes conveying their numerous freights to the scene of action. The ground selected was excellent for milling purposes, and the inner and outer rings were formed with as much expedition as possible, for fear of further interruption. A good business was transacted in the sale of inner-ring tickets, the amount realised by which was £47 2s. 6d. The number of Corinthian sportsmen was the largest we remember at the ring-side, and the spectators most orderly. At half-past four the men entered the ring ready for business; Sayers attended by Nat Langham and Bill Hayes, and the Slasher under the superintendence of Tass Parker and Jack Macdonald, perhaps the best pair of seconds that could be found. No time was cut to waste in preliminaries; the colours were tied to the stakes――blue and white spot for Sayers, and the old blue birdseye for the Slasher――and at twelve minutes to five they were delivered at the scratch, the betting being 6 to 5 on the old one.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――On toeing the scratch the contrast between the men was, as may be imagined, most extraordinary. The ould Tipton topped his adversary at least four inches, and it looked, to the uninitiated, “a horse to a hen.” His immense frame and ponderous, muscular arms and legs seemed calculated to bear him to victory against four such men as Sayers. He looked all full of confidence, and evidently considered he had a very easy little job before him. He was thinner than we expected to see him, and his condition generally was very fair, but there were the usual indications of age upon certain points where the fulness and roundness of youth had disappeared from his form. He looked all his age (thirty-eight); indeed, by many he was thought to be far on the shady side of forty. His attitude was ungainly, but still he was rough and ready, and the question that suggested itself was “how was Sayers to get at him?” Tom Sayers, as he advanced to meet his antagonist, was the perfection of manly strength and athletic development. His fine broad shoulders, small loins, and powerful arms and legs were all turned in one of Nature’s best lathes, and there was not a fault to find, unless it was found that he had two or three pounds more flesh than was necessary about his back and ribs. His attitude for attack or defence was admirable, and however confident the Slasher was, it was perfectly obvious that Sayers was not one whit behind him in that respect. The Slasher had evidently made up his mind to set to work at once and cut his man down in a jiffey. He lumbered in like a huge bear, let go both hands with more vigour than judgment, but did not get home, and Sayers, in stepping back, fell, but at once jumped up to renew the round. The Slasher went at him, put in a little one on the skull, and Tom again fell.

2.――The Slasher came up evidently with greater confidence than ever, and lunged out his right, which reached Tom’s ribs with great force, and Tom countered him sharply on the mouth, drawing “first blood.” The Slasher looked astonished, stopped to consider a moment, and again went in, swinging his great arms like the sails of a windmill. Sayers danced lightly out of harm’s way, and then, stepping in, popped a tidy smack on the spectacle-beam, and got away laughing. After dancing round his man, and easily avoiding several more lunges, Tom again got home on the snuffer-tray, removing a piece of the japan, and drawing a fresh supply of the ruby. The Tipton, annoyed, rushed in, missed his right, and also a terrific upper-cut with his left, and Sayers again dropped in upon the nose. After this, slight exchanges took place, the Slasher too slow to be effective. He now chased Sayers all over the ring, the latter dancing round him like a wild Indian, or fleeing like a deer, to draw him after him. The vicious blows aimed by the Slasher all fell upon the air, and his exertions to catch his nimble antagonist caused him to blow off steam to an indefinite extent. Had one of the intended compliments alighted upon Tom, it looked as if it would have been all over with him. After Sayers had completed his dance he went to his man, cleverly avoided a good right-hander, and delivered another very hot one on the proboscis (more “Lafitte” of the _premier crû_). The Tipton tried his heavy punches again three times and missed; a fourth attempt was prettily stopped, after which both hit short. The Tipton next got on Tom’s right cheek with his left, but not heavily, and some very pretty stopping followed on both sides, after which the Tipton made another rush like a bull at a gate, and found himself once more battling with vacancy, Tom having slipped under his arm, and danced off laughing. The Slasher looked with astonishment, and shook his nut. Sayers again approached, and after one or two feints a good exchange took place, Sayers getting on to the left eye, and the Slasher on the ribs. Sharp counter-hits followed, Slasher on the mouth and Tom on the cheek. Tom now led off with his double, but the Slasher stopped him prettily twice in succession, when he missed his return. The Slasher again pounded away, principally with his right, but without effect, as Sayers jumped back or stopped every effort. Sayers now planted a stinger with his left on the mark and stopped the return. The next minute he got sharply home on the nasal organ, and jumped quickly away from a well-intended upper-cut, which looked like a finisher. The Slasher now stopped one or two pretty leads, but his return came so slowly that Sayers was far out of harm’s way. This occurred several times, the Slasher rushing about like a baited bull, Sayers skipping and nimbly getting away from every rush. After a little of this entertainment Sayers went in, let go his left, and was stopped neatly, and he, in turn, stopped two very round hits on the part of Perry. Sayers next feinted, and got home a slashing left-hander on the right cheek, which he cut severely, and drew a plenteous supply of ruby. Another hit fell on the same spot. The Slasher then got a little one on Tom’s body, and tried again, but Tom got away. The Slasher retired to his corner to get his mug wiped, and, on coming out again, Tom led him another dance all over the ring, the Old One, with more haste than speed, trying to catch him, and repeatedly expending his strength in empty space. At last Sayers, having given him a good turn at this game, stopped to see whether he was pumped, and some good exchanges followed, Sayers again on the damaged cheek, and the Slasher also reaching the cheek. Mutual stopping followed, and Sayers next got home heavily on the olfactory projection. The Slasher now stopped Tom, and returned, but not heavily, on the top of his nut, which led to exchanges, Tom on the left optic, and Bill on the ribs. After one or two more exchanges, another tremendous counter took place, Tom receiving on the mouth, and the Slasher on the nose, each drawing the carmine. The Slasher having next made several misses went in, and another sharp counter was exchanged, Tom receiving on the brain-pan, and the Slasher on the beak, from which more home-brewed escaped. Each now had a wipe of the sponge, and Tom treated his opponent to another game of follow-my-leader all over the ring, in the course of which the Slasher caught him a heavy right-hander on the back. He then stopped Tom’s left and heavy counters followed Tom on the nose, and Slasher on the _os frontis_, knocking him down (first “knock down” for Slasher). This round lasted nearly half an hour.

3.――The Slasher came up laughing, but he was evidently bent on mischief. Sayers smiled, tried his left and was stopped, and the Slasher, as usual, missed two swinging right-handers. Tom dodged, popped his left on the mark, and then on the forehead, got a little one on the ribs, and exchanges followed, Tom getting home on the left ogle, and Tipton on the mouth. Some heavy give and take fighting followed, Tom getting more juice from the Slasher’s right cheek, and receiving one or two smart ones on the neck and side of his head. Mutual stopping, feinting and dodging until Tom got home on the mark, and the Slasher again followed him all over the ring, hitting out of distance, and with no manner of judgment. Finding he could do nothing, the Slasher put down his hands, and retired for another wipe from Jack Macdonald, and then renewed his exertions, when some pretty stopping took place on both sides, after which Sayers got home on the left side of the nob, but was stopped in another essay. The Slasher stopped two more well-intended ones, and then got home on the side of Tom’s cranium; Sayers returned now heavily on the proboscis, once more turning on the tap. Tom now dodged, and then got home heavily on the damaged cheek――a tremendous hit, and again did the home-brewed appear. The Slasher retired to be cleaned, and came again viciously, but Sayers pinked him on the smeller, receiving a slight return on the top of the nob. More futile efforts on the part of the Slasher, whose friends called upon Sayers to stand still and be hit, but Tom wisely declined. He had orders to keep his man on his legs and fight him at long shots, and these orders he carried out most excellently. Again and again did the Slasher miss or get stopped. Occasionally he got home a very little one, which did not leave a mark, and now he rushed at Tom, dashed out his right, and very narrowly escaped smashing his fist against the stake――it was within an inch. Sayers lifted up his arms with astonishment, and stood laughing until the Slasher wore round on another tack, and came at him again, when Tom got away, shaking his noddle and grinning. The Slasher followed, Tom nailed him on the nozzle, stopped his return, and then planted another on the cheek. Sharp exchanges followed, the Slasher getting on Tom’s right cheek and just drawing the juice, while Tom left a mark on the Slasher’s left eye. The Old’un, very slow, sparred apparently for wind, and was then stopped left and right, after which each hit over the shoulder. Tom afterwards stopped both hands, and got easily away from a third attempt. Slight exchanges followed, Tom on the nose, and Slasher on the top of the head. More dancing by Sayers, and exhausting efforts on the part of the Slasher, and then as the Slasher came, Tom caught him a severe straightener on the snuff-box, drawing lots of claret. The Slasher, savage, stood to consider, and then rushing in delivered a little one on the side of Tom’s head with his right, and Tom fell. (Time, 52 minutes.)

4.――The Slasher came up grinning, but he was evidently somewhat fatigued by his exertions. He nevertheless adhered to his practice of forcing the fighting, again dashed at Tom, and contrived to plant a little one on the body with his right, but it was not within punishing distance. Slight exchanges followed on the side of the wig-block, after which the Slasher stopped Tom’s left. Heavy counter-hits next succeeded in favour of Sayers, who got home on the Slasher’s potato-trap, and napped a little one on the nob. After another dance round the ring, Tom stopped the Slasher’s right, and the latter then drove him into the corner, and, evidently thinking he had him safe, wound himself up to finish; but when he let go his left and right, he found that Tom had slipped under his arm, and was laughing at him in the middle of the ring. The K-legged giant, irate that his opponent would not stand to be hit, again lumbered after him, like an elephant in pumps, but it was no go. “No catchee, no havee,” was Tom’s maxim, and he kept to his active tactics. The Slasher persevered, and Sayers stopped his left and right, and then turned away laughing and shaking his noddle. The Tipton giant could not make it out, and turned to his second as if to inquire what he should do; another illustration of the classical adage――_capit consilium gladiator in arena_. At last he went at it again and got home on the body, receiving in return on the kisser. Some sparring followed, until the Tipton again led off, and was short with both hands. Finding he could do nothing, he retired to his corner, where he stood leaning on the ropes, Tom waiting and beckoning him to the scratch. After a rest the Slasher came out, feinted at Tom, but was quickly nailed on the left cheek. He tried again, and got home heavily on the ribs, and Sayers fell. (Time, one hour and four minutes.)

5.――Perry still adhered to his boring tactics, but Tom was far too quick on his pins, and easily avoided him. Another attempt was stopped, and from a third Sayers got easily away. A fourth was missed, and Tom returned on the left cheek, which led to heavy exchanges on the side of the head, and Tom fell, the Slasher falling over him.

6.――The Slasher came up laughing, and let go his left, but out of distance; good exchanges followed, Sayers effecting another lodgment on the right cheek, and increasing the cut in that quarter, and the Slasher getting home on the cranium. The Slasher, after another ill-directed rush, again retired to his corner, had a drink and a wipe, and then came again, when Sayers stopped his deliveries with the greatest ease. The Slasher persevered, and Tom led him another morris-dance, but they afterwards got close, and slight exchanges ended in the Slasher falling.

7.――The Tipton bored in stooping, head-foremost, like a bull of Salamanca. Tom, not being provided with a mantilla to throw over his head, jumped aside like a matador, and on went his assailant to the ropes. Perry swung round, just got on to Tom’s head, and each then missed a blow. The Slasher persevered, and Tom countered on the left side of his forehead with his right, after which Perry retired to his corner, whither Sayers followed him, and the Slasher at once lunged out at the cheek, but not effectually. He now made another of his wild onslaughts, but only to be disappointed, and he next stopped both Tom’s mauleys. Some sparring followed, both being slightly blown; the Slasher stopped Tom’s left, and returned with his right on the body. After a few more misses, they got close, and Tom delivered a heavy spank on the left eye, and fell from the force of his own blow. (One hour, fifteen minutes.)

8.――Perry showed a bump under the left peeper, but he came up smiling, and let go his left and right, both of which were stopped. He then stood blowing, until Sayers went to the attack, and some mutual pretty stopping took place, followed by several misses on either side. The Slasher once more retired to rest in his corner, but was fetched out by Sayers, who then got home on the side of the nob, and neatly avoided a return. Both were now rather wild in their lunges, and the Slasher, who pursued his man most vigorously, repeatedly missed his blows. Tom at length caught him on the cutwater, drawing a fresh supply from the best bin, and the Slasher walked off to borrow Jack Macdonald’s wipe. Tom followed, and got home very heavily on the mark and then on the mouth, renewing “the cataract from the cavern.” Sharp exchanges in favour of Sayers followed, and in the end both fell.

9.――The Slasher came up slowly. Notwithstanding his severe punishment, his seconds sent him up beautifully clean, and in fact their attention throughout was beyond all praise. He tried again and again to plant upon the agile Sayers, but in vain. Sayers stopped him at all points, and then delivered a heavy left-hander on the mark. Some sparring followed, and Sayers stopped several heavy lunges, the Tipton in return stopping his left. Tom, in another attempt, got on the damaged cheek, increasing the cut, and the Tipton walked to his corner, whither Tom followed him, but on the Slasher making his usual lunge Sayers jumped back. Perry followed, and some pretty taps and stops, without mischief, took place. The Slasher then hit out of distance several times in succession, but on getting close some neat exchanges followed, Tom on the mark, heavily, and Perry on the cheek, but not effectively. Perry once more bored in, and delivered his right, but it was a mere fly-blow. Tom missed his prop with the left, and the Slasher retired for a drink. Tom thought this an example worth following, and after the inner man was refreshed, they went to work again, and sharp exchanges, all in favour of Sayers, followed; he kept playing on the Slasher’s damaged nose and cheek, his double being very effective, while Perry’s blows appeared to leave no mark. Tom now stopped several well-intended blows, and returned heavily on the right cheek with his left. Perry, although getting slower every minute, gamely persevered, put in his right and left on the body, and then hit short with both hands. More mutual stopping ensued, until they got close, when the Slasher dashed his right at the body, but Tom met him with a very straight left-hander on the mouth, drawing more of the elixir of life, and with his right he planted severely on the nose. Another sharp one on the mouth caused the Slasher to stagger and fall, and Tom fell over him. The Slasher evidently was fast going; the last three blows, particularly the right-hander, were very heavy, and the game old fellow was almost abroad, and was very slow to time.

10 and last.――The Slasher crawled very slowly to the scratch, and attempted to lead off. It was, however, only an attempt. Tom easily avoided it, and planted a tremendous hit on the mark, stopping the return with ease. He stopped two more attempts, and then as the Slasher lunged out a third time he caught him with the left on the damaged cheek and the right on the mouth, cutting his upper lip very severely, and the Slasher fell, Tom on him. The Slasher was carried to his corner, and, with some difficulty, was got round in time to go to the scratch for another round. His dial, however, was dreadfully punished, and his lip was so much cut that he presented a piteous appearance. It was evident that he had not the slightest chance; he was as weak as a kitten, and entirely at the mercy of his adversary, who was perfectly scatheless and apparently as active as when he began, and Owen Swift, the Slasher’s principal backer, seeing the state of things, stepped into the ring, and with praiseworthy humanity declared that he should fight no more. Perry was very unwilling to give up without one more shy, but Owen was imperative. He insisted upon the men shaking hands, and the sponge was thrown up, Tom Sayers being proclaimed the winner, and Champion of England, amid the cheers of his partisans, at the expiration of one hour and forty-two minutes.

No time was now lost in getting on board the vessels, the majority of the spectators making for the larger vessel, for which they had no tickets, and taking advantage of the absence of the authorities on shore to scramble on board before demands could be made upon them to show their credentials. The charterers of the “Widgeon” (the companion or rather opposition), did not display much consideration for their patrons, as they steamed off almost immediately on the conclusion of the mill, leaving the majority of their customers to their fate.

It was fortunate for Sayers that he finished his task at the time he did, for scarcely had the men left the ring when the same body of peelers who had before interfered arrived upon the ground, just in time to be too late to put their kind intentions into effect. It was only the difficulty in getting a boat that prevented their arrival at an earlier hour.

As soon as all were on board the regular boat a consultation was held as to the course that ought to be pursued, and the general opinion having been taken, it was resolved to make for Strood, instead of giving the navigators another turn round the Nore, and by eight o’clock a landing was effected at that town, and nearly all were enabled to reach town by eleven o’clock in the evening. On the voyage to Strood, Tom Sayers went round among the Corinthians and made a collection for his fallen but game opponent, which amounted to the sum of £22 5s.

REMARKS.――The account of this battle tells its own tale, and calls for scarcely any remarks. From first to last it was evident that the Tipton Slasher’s star had sunk, and that he was no longer “The Slasher.” He must have felt from the very first that, barring an accident, he had not the slightest chance. All his quickness and activity had left him, and we could not help thinking that his eyesight also must be failing, for times out of number did he lunge out and attempt to deliver upper-cuts when Tom Sayers was far beyond his reach, and these blows were of such tremendous force that they must have tended to take much of the steel out of him. It appeared to us that from the very beginning he adopted a wrong principle. For a heavy, lumbering man, like himself, to attempt to force the fighting, and pursue a lithe, active fellow such as Sayers, was perfectly ridiculous, as he evidently felt towards the conclusion of the battle; and we should imagine that he must many times since have regretted that he did not adhere to his original intention of awaiting the attack and depending upon his powers as a counter-hitter to bring him through. That he did his best to please his backers and to bring the fight off in his favour cannot for a moment be denied, and that he took his severe punishment without a murmur was self-evident. He always had the character of being a game man, and that character he carried with him into retirement. The Tipton said that early in the fight he injured his right hip in one of his sudden twists to catch his opponent, and this materially interfered with his powers. Tom Sayers fought strictly to orders throughout, and his coolness and judgment greatly enhanced his reputation among his friends. Some persons present commented upon his retreating tactics, and contended that this was not fair fighting, but as these remarks proceeded from the enemy’s camp they are worth but little. Of course it would have been infinitely more pleasing to them had Tom stood and slogged away against an adversary of so much heavier metal until he was disabled by a chance blow, but such a course would have been perfect madness on his part. How his jumping or running away could be called unfair, so long as he confined himself within the ring, we cannot conceive. The ring is always constructed of a certain size for the express purpose of restraining the combatants within certain bounds, and within those bounds a man has a perfect right to retreat and jump about as long as he likes, so that he does not decline to face his opponent; and that Tom Sayers for one moment declined to continue the battle cannot by any one be maintained. How far his jumping about and exertions upon his legs were advisable for his own sake is another question, and we are inclined to think that he might have kept out of harm’s way with far less exertion, and reserved much of his strength against any unlooked-for contingency, had he restrained his peristaltic energies within more reasonable bounds. If the Slasher had been younger and more active, it is not improbable that the gallant Tom would have found out to his cost, as the battle progressed, the benefit of such a mode of fighting. As it turned out, however, no harm was done, and as he achieved such an easy victory, none of his friends can for one moment complain. That his retreating arose from any want of confidence is a proposition not to be entertained for a moment. Never in his brilliant career has he shown the semblance of the white feather, and we feel assured that the only causes to which his method of fighting the Slasher can be set down are caution, a desire to please his friends, and an extraordinary exuberance of animal spirits. The ring throughout the fight was well kept, and, beyond the few vicissitudes connected with the voyage to the scene of action, we heard of nothing calculated to mar the pleasures of the day.

Tom’s defeat of the ponderous Tipton was not, however, to leave him in undisputed possession of the belt. Tom Paddock considered himself capable of taking the shine out of such a little one, and challenged Sayers accordingly; but ere a match could be arranged, the Redditch man was suddenly seized with a rheumatic fever, which completely floored him, and from which it was feared he would not recover. There was now apparently every chance that Sayers would walk over the course, but this did not suit Harry Broome, who, although unable to cope with Tom himself, “thought he knowed a cove wot could,” and made a match for an “Unknown,” to fight Tom for £200 a side on the 5th of January, 1858. The speculations as to who this unknown could be were extraordinary――he was the bold Bendy, he was Ben Caunt, he was Ould Nat, he was Harry Orme――in fact, he was everybody but himself; and great indeed was the public astonishment when it became known that he was not only actually an “Unknown,” but also a perfect novice, being, in fact, Bill Bainge, or Benjamin, a native of Northleach, 5ft. 10¾in. in height, weighing 12st., of whose prowess rumour had propagated extravagant accounts, while others maintained that as the Broomes were behind Benjamin, it was a “got-up” robbery, and that Sayers would “chuck it.” Poor Tom was sadly mortified at these insinuations, and indignantly assured the writer that if he should be beaten it should only be by a better man.

A steamboat conveyed the men and their backers down the river to the Isle of Grain, where, at about half-past twelve o’clock, the Champion made his appearance at the ring-side, and modestly dropped his castor within the ropes, following it at once himself, attended by Bill Hayes and Harry Brunton. He was hailed with loud cheers from all sides. Bill Benjamin was close upon his heels, and stepped into the ropes under the care of Harry Broome and Jemmy Massey. There was a smile upon the face of each man; but we fancied that of Sayers was the genuine smile of confidence, while that of his opponent had somewhat of a nervous twist about it. They shook hands good humouredly, tossed for corners, Sayers proving the winner, and then at once commenced peeling to the bitter frost and south-easterly breeze. The colours, a neat French grey for Sayers, and blue and white spots for Benjamin, were now tied to the stakes, the usual preliminaries were quickly settled, and at fourteen minutes to twelve “time” was called. The betting round the ring was very slight, 2 to 1 being freely offered, but takers were scarce at anything under 5 to 2.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――When the men appeared at the scratch, which they did in the midst of perfect silence, there was a visible contrast in their physical powers. The Novice stood well over Sayers, his muscles were larger and better developed, and altogether he looked, as he undoubtedly was, the heavier and more powerful man. His attitude at first was good, and led one to suppose he had studied under a good master. His condition was perfect, there not being a superfluous ounce about him. Tom looked rather fleshy about the chest and shoulders, but in such weather it was perhaps a fault on the right side. His attitude was the same as ever――cool, calm, and collected. He eyed his adversary with steadiness, and there was the same unmistakable glance of confidence always to be seen on his mug. He had clearly made up his mind to let the Novice make the first move, and tried several dodges to draw him out. The Novice, although evidently nervous, sparred and feinted like an accomplished boxer for a brief period, and at length tried his left, but Tom stopped him with nonchalance, and returned quickly with the left on the nozzle, and then on the mark a sharp crack. The Novice stood his ground, and now succeeded in stopping Tom twice, and returning, but very slightly, on the cheek. Tom next delivered his left and right at close quarters, on the cheek and jaw, and the Novice dropped. He was conveyed to his corner, and the look of dismay upon his countenance as he glanced around was perfectly ludicrous. It was at once patent to all that he knew nothing of the business he had undertaken, and that the contest was virtually over, for directly his guard was broken through he appeared to have no resources. He could not use his legs, and his arms flew about like the sails of a windmill, so that Tom was able to put in both hands perfectly at his ease. The celerity with which he brought his right into play thus early in the fight was remarkable.

2.――The Novice did not “smile as he was wont to smile,” but seemed to be on the look-out for a place of secure retreat. Tom walked quietly up, led off with his left and was stopped, but the Novice missed his return. Tom then popped his left very heavily on the mouth, knocking his opponent clean off his pins, and filling his potato trap with ruby. The Novice lay as if undecided for a second, and then, turning over, got gradually on his pins, and his seconds took him to his corner. He shook his head several times, and appeared extremely undesirous of encountering another of Tom’s heavy shots, but, on time being called, Harry Broome pushed him forward, and he went reluctantly to the scratch, Massey, in disgust, having declined to have any more to do with him.

3.――Sayers, evidently bent on making short work of it, quickly went to work left and right. Benjamin tried to rally with him, but beyond an accidental touch on the lip, did not reach him. Tom planted heavily on the mouth and jaw, drawing more ruby, and down went the Novice all abroad. He lay in the middle of the ring, and nothing could persuade him to come to “time.” Broome then threw up the sponge, and Tom Sayers was once again proclaimed the conqueror, and still champion, in _six minutes and a half_, the battle――if battle it could be called where it was all one way――being the most bloodless we ever witnessed. The Novice, on being asked to account for his cutting up so badly, said he was hit very hard in the mark in the first round, and not expecting to be hit there, it had made him very sick and incapable of exerting himself. Further than that he knew not. His easy defeat struck dismay into all his friends, and the look of surprise and contempt cast upon him by Jemmy Massey was a study for an artist. Both men at once left the field of action, and repaired on board the boat, where they lost no time in resuming their warm wraps, and taking other means to infuse a little of that caloric into their systems which had been subtracted therefrom during their brief exposure to the outward air.

REMARKS.――We question whether it is not an insult to the understanding of the reader to offer any remarks upon this singular exhibition of incapacity upon the part of the would-be champion. Of Tom Sayers we have nothing more to say than he did what he was called upon to do with the utmost _nonchalance_, and that he performed his task even easier than he had all along anticipated. The Novice did not exhibit a single point which would entitle him to be called even an “outsider.” From the time that he was foiled in his very first move he cannot be said to have even “tried.” All his senses seemed to have left him, and, as far as we were able to judge, the only predominant thought in his mind was how to escape from the dilemma in which he had been placed, with the least damage to himself. Doubtless he was hit very heavily, but still he had not received even half enough to justify him in crying “a go,” had he meant winning at all hazards. That he must eventually have been beaten by such a man as Sayers, barring an accident, is a positive certainty, and that he exercised a sound discretion in not submitting to further punishment is equally true; but that he has done more than heap ridicule upon himself and those who brought him out, by his miserable performance, is a proposition not to be disputed for a moment. How such a judge of fighting as Harry Broome could have made the mistake he did we cannot understand, but the task of bringing out a candidate for the Championship once undertaken by a man of his known “talent,” it is easy to understand how the public were induced to come forward and take the long odds offered on Sayers. Among the deceived was the renowned Jemmy Massey, who, liking the appearance of the man, and being led on by the reports of Harry Broome as to his man’s cleverness and gluttonous qualities, took the odds of 2 to 1 to a considerable amount. The whole affair was carried out from first to last in a quiet and orderly way, and there was no fault to find with the partisans of either man for either unseemly language or noisy demonstrations. All that was required to render it a model fight was a little more devil and resolution on the part of the loser. The battle money was handed to Tom Sayers at Owen Swift’s, “Horse Shoe” Tavern, Tichborne Street, on Wednesday evening, January 13th, when he was again adorned with the Champion’s belt, which, according to rule, was deposited with the stakeholder to abide the event of his next battle for the permanent possession of the trophy.

After this victory Tom appeared in a fair way to rest upon his laurels, but soon, to his astonishment, as well as every one else’s, it was announced that Tom Paddock had recovered, and did not intend to let the belt pass without a struggle. He issued a challenge to Sayers, in which he intimated that, it being dead low water in his exchequer, he was as poor as a church mouse, and that unless Tom would extend him the hand of charity, and meet him for £150 a side, instead of the stipulated £200, the darling wish of his heart could not be gratified. He thought he could win the belt, and hoped Tom would not let a paltry £50 stand between them and prevent a friendly mill. Sayers, like a “brick” of his own laying, promptly responded to the call, and intimated that the meeting would afford him the highest gratification. With such an old pal he could not allow the paltry “rag” to stand in the way. The match was at once made, and came off on the anniversary of Tom’s fight with the Slasher――viz., on the 16th of June, 1858. After some narrow escapes from police pursuit and persecution, the two Toms met on a place selected as “maiden ground,” at Canvey Island.

And here the phrase, “the two Toms,” tempts us to a brief digression. The baptismal name of “Tom” has, indeed, furnished more than its calculable proportion of Champions of the fistic Ring; and hence we have pictured on a previous page the “three Toms” whose deeds made their names, in the first three-quarters of the present century, among admirers of pugilistic prowess, “familiar in men’s mouths as household words.” This curious pre-eminence of name may be further extended; for though the Christian name of John, the familiar Jack, and the royal one of George (during the reign of “the four Georges”) twice outnumbered the Toms, yet Tom Johnson, Tom Paddock, Tom Sayers, and Tom King――the _ultimus Romanorum_――make up the mystic number of Seven Champions bearing that designation, while Jack Broughton, John Jackson, and John Gully are the only three to be credited to the far more numerous family of “Johns.”

The first to shy his wide-awake into the ring was Tom Paddock, who was loudly cheered. He was attended by Jemmy Massey and that accomplished master of the art Jack Macdonald, and looked as red as beet-root, and as strong and healthy as though he had never in the course of his life assisted at the ceremony of turning off the gas. His demeanour was the same as ever, that of extreme confidence, and the smile on his mug was more that of one who had merely come out to enjoy a little gentle exercise than of a candidate for honours preparing to meet the Admirable Crichton of the P.R. There was, however, nothing of bravado about him; he merely took the affair as a matter of course, which would soon be over. He was not kept many minutes before he was joined by his opponent, who, attended by Bill Hayes and Harry Brunton, was also received with a complete ovation of applause. Tom, like his brother Tom, also looked in rude health, but his good-tempered mug struck us as if anything too fleshy, and in this we were confirmed when he stripped, for it was then apparent that he was some three or four pounds heavier than he should have been under such a tropical sun. The lads shook hands good-humouredly, and while they were completing their half-finished adornments, the betting round the ring was of the liveliest and heaviest description: £25 to £20, £50 to £40, and similar odds to smaller sums upon Sayers were offered and eagerly accepted in all quarters, and it was as much as the stakeholder could accomplish for some time to collect and enter the names and amounts of perhaps some of the heaviest investments for many years.

We feel it incumbent upon us here to perform an act of justice to Alec Keene, which speaks volumes for his kindness of heart, and without which our account would be incomplete. After the men had been fighting about twenty minutes, Alec, who had followed the belligerents in a tug from Gravesend, made his appearance on the ground, and, finding that things were not going altogether smoothly with Tom Paddock, at once betook himself to his corner, offered him the hand of fellowship, and throughout the remainder of the fight stood by him, to afford him the benefit of that experience and advice which he is so capable of imparting.

THE FIGHT

Round 1.――Both came grinning to the scratch, and manœuvred for a brief space for an opening. Paddock looked, as usual, big and burly, but it was evident he was no longer the active, fresh man we had before seen. His mug was more marked with age, and there was a dulness about his eye we never remember in former days. His condition was good and he was in good health, but still he looked only Tom Paddock in name. Sayers was more fleshy than he should have been, but this was the only fault to be found with him. His eye was as bright and clear as a hawk’s, and the ease of his movements was a picture to behold. His attitude was, as usual, all readiness for a shoot or a jump. Paddock, instead of rushing, as had been expected, steadied himself, and felt with his left for an opening. It was not long before he attempted it, but Sayers stopped him easily. He made a second attempt, and Sayers stepped back, shaking his noddle and laughing. After a little sparring, Paddock tried again, and got on Tom’s brow, but not heavily. Again they dodged, and at length two counter-hits were exchanged, each getting on to the proboscis. After this Paddock again reached Tom’s nozzle rather sharply, but was stopped in another attempt. Another bit of cautious sparring eventually led to very heavy exchanges, in which Sayers left a mark on Paddock’s left cheek, and napped a warm one over the right peeper, slightly removing the bark, and giving Paddock the first event. Several rapid passes were now made on both sides, but they were evidently mere trials to find out what each intended. After a pause Sayers tried his favourite double, which he succeeded in landing on Paddock’s cheek, but not very heavily. More sharp exchanges followed, the advantage being with Sayers, until they both retreated and stood to cool themselves, the heat being intense. After a few seconds thus employed, they again approached one another smiling, and after a dodge or two they exchanged slight reminders on the side of the nut, broke away, and then got at it again, when heavy counter-hits were exchanged, but Sayers was first, and inflicted a cut on Paddock’s left brow, calling forth the juice in abundance. Paddock landed on the cheek, but not heavily. After this slight exchanges with the left took place, and they again stood, Sayers awaiting the onslaught, and Paddock puzzled. At last the latter dashed in, and was easily stopped twice in succession. He rushed after Sayers, who ducked under his arm, and, as Paddock turned round again, nailed him very heavily over the left peeper, renewed the supply of carmine, and then got out of harm’s way. Paddock, nothing daunted, dashed in, but Sayers stopped him most beautifully, and then, putting in his double, got well on the old spot. Paddock once more bored in, and was neatly stopped, but, persevering with his usual gameness, heavy exchanges ensued, all in favour of Sayers, who was as straight as a die, and got heavily on the left cheek and brow. Paddock, wild, rushed after him; Sayers ducked, and then planted his left on the left cheek, another hot one, and then on the snout, renewing the ruby. As Paddock bored in, he made a cannon off the cushion by putting his double heavily on the mark and nose without a return, and Paddock then rushing after him, bored him down. This round lasted fifteen minutes, and at its conclusion the backers of Sayers offered 2 to 1――an offer not accepted by the Paddock party, who looked indigo. It was patent to all good judges even thus early that Paddock was only Paddock in name, and that all the steel was out of him; and he has since informed us that he felt tired and worn out, and that he had no chance from this time. His gameness, therefore, in persevering so long and so manfully against his own conviction is the more commendable.

2.――Both came up grinning, but while Sayers was almost scatheless, Paddock’s mug showed that Sayers had been there. Paddock, nothing daunted, rattled in, and got on to the top of Tom’s nob. Sayers returned, but not heavily and sharp counter-hits followed, Sayers on the damaged ogle, and Paddock on the left cheek. After this, Sayers got home his dangerous right on the side of Paddock’s nob, and the latter fell.

3.――Paddock seemed slow, while Sayers was as fresh as a daisy; Paddock attempted to lead, but was very short. He, however, stopped Tom’s return. Heavy exchanges followed, Sayers receiving on the left cheek, and getting heavily on Paddock’s damaged squinter. Paddock, nothing daunted, made several desperate efforts, but Sayers got away with the greatest ease, and at length, as Paddock persevered, he once more countered him on the old spot, drawing more of the red port, and stopped Paddock’s return. Twice again did Sayers repeat this visitation, and get away from Paddock’s kindly intentions. Sayers then tried to lead off, but was well stopped. He made another attempt, and lodged his favourite double on the mark and nose, and then stopped Paddock’s return. Paddock now endeavoured to force the fighting, but Sayers danced away under his arm, came again, and, as Paddock rushed in, delivered a tremendous left-hander on the cheek, by the side of the smeller, drawing more home-brewed from the fresh cut. Paddock, angry, made several desperate efforts, but was well-stopped. At length they got close, and in the heavy exchanges, Sayers got his right heavily on the side of the nut, and received on the mouth. Paddock now dashed in, and although Sayers pinked him on the nose and eye, he persevered until he forced Sayers down.

4.――Paddock’s physog. seemed a good deal out of the line of beauty, while Sayers had scarcely a mark. Paddock still smiled, and attempted to lead, but the dash and vigour we remember of yore were all gone; his blows seemed but half-arm hits, and did not get near their destination. Almost every time Sayers stopped him with ease, and at last, as Paddock came boring in, he met him heavily on the cheek, producing another streak of cochineal. Still did Paddock persevere but only to be nailed again, and to have the Red Republican once more called forth. After this he got home on Tom’s chest, and then on the cheek, but the blows lacked vigour. Exchanges ensued, in which Paddock removed the bark from Tom’s sniffer, and turned on the main, but it was not a material damage. After a rest, in which both piped for wind, they again got at it, and a tremendous rally took place, in which Sayers was straightest and heaviest; he, however, got a hot’un on the mouth, which drew the Badminton. This was a tremendous give-and-take round, and Paddock caught it heavily on the left side of his nob, while Sayers received chiefly on the hardest parts of his cast-iron canister. In the end Paddock was down, amidst the vociferous cheers of the Sayers party.

5.――Paddock made two ineffectual attempts to deliver, each being short, after which Sayers missed his favourite double. He then stopped Paddock’s one, two, and exchanges followed, in which Paddock reached Tom’s chin, and received with interest on the damaged cheek. Again did they deliver left and right, and Paddock drew more gravy from Tom’s sucker. Paddock rattled to it, but Sayers countered heavily on the snorer, again calling forth the ruby; he, however, napped one on the kisser, which must have shaken his false ivories. After this they piped for wind, the perspiration oozed from every pore, and they were evidently both tired. Paddock retired for a wipe, and after a pause Sayers went to him, and Paddock, seeing this, rushed in but Tom danced away, followed by Paddock, who eventually got a reminder on the cheek, and Sayers, in getting away from the return, fell.

6.――Sayers feinted and dodged until Paddock came to him, when Tom got home a very hot one on the snuff-box, turning on the vermilion galore. Paddock, wild, dashed at him to deliver the right, but Sayers getting quickly out of mischief, the blow fell on the stake, and evidently caused the poor fellow intense pain. He was not cowed, however, but followed Sayers, who fell, and Paddock’s umpire appealing, the referee desired Sayers to be cautious.

7.――Paddock slow, came up cautiously, and after a few dodges, led off, but was short, and received a reminder on the beak from Tom’s left. Sayers then got heavily on the mark with the left, and stopped the return. This led to heavy exchanges, in which Paddock received on the nose, and lost more juice, while Sayers only got it on the brow. Paddock tried again and again to lead off, but Sayers danced away, or ducked under his arm, and each time nailed him heavily on the nose or left cheek, and, finally, Paddock fell weak.

8.――Paddock’s left peeper was now completely closed, and the left side of his knowledge-box much swollen. He was sent up very clean, however, and again tried to lead off, but Sayers was too quick for him, and got away. Still did the gallant Paddock persevere, but Sayers stopped him with ease, and returned on the damaged visual organ very heavily. Paddock again dashed in, but was short, his blows lacking vigour; and Sayers returned on the mark. Again and again did Paddock make an onslaught, but there was none of the vigour of the Paddock of former days; he was repeatedly stopped with ease, and Sayers caught him again and again on the mark and damaged chop. At last they got close together, and Paddock succeeded in knocking Sayers off his pins by a heavy right-hander on the whistler, which inflicted a severe cut, and drew the carmine (loud cheers for Paddock, who had thus won the two first events).

9.――The blow in the last round had evidently shaken Sayers, who was slow to the call of time, and came up with a suspicious mark on his potato-trap. Paddock tried to follow up his advantage and incautiously went in, when Sayers met him with a beautiful left-hander on the snout, which sent him staggering, and put an end to his rushing for the time. This enabled Sayers to recover a little, and then, as Paddock afterwards came in, he made another call on the cheek, and got cleverly away from the return. Paddock followed him up, and heavy left-handed exchanges took place in favour of Sayers, who afterwards stopped Paddock’s right twice in succession. Good exchanges ensued to a close, and Paddock got down, just escaping Tom’s right.

10.――After slight harmless exchanges, they stood piping, until Paddock took the initiative, but Sayers danced under his arm, and, as he turned round, pinked him on the blind goggle, and then, putting in his double, renewed the home-brewed from the cheek. Paddock tried a return, but was stopped twice in succession, and then got another little ’un on the out-water. After some neat stopping on both sides, Sayers made another call on the cheek, then on the chest, and after sharp exchanges, as Paddock rushed after him, he slipped and fell, but obviously from accident.

11.――Paddock at once rushed to close quarters, but found Sayers nothing loth; they struggled for a brief period, and in the end both fell, it being obvious that Sayers was the stronger man.

12.――Paddock, who was piping and evidently fatigued, tried to lead off, but was miserably short. After a slight exchange they again closed, and, after a short struggle, Sayers threw and fell on his man, amidst the cheers of his admirers. One hour and two minutes had now elapsed.

13.――Paddock, whose mug was all shapes but the right, and whose remaining goggle glared most ferociously, rushed in and missed. Sayers, in getting back, fell, and there was a claim of foul; Massey and Macdonald, according to the custom of modern seconds, neglecting their man, and rushing to the referee. There was not the slightest ground for the claim, Sayers evidently having fallen from pure accident; but the usual complimentary remarks were offered by the card-sharpers and other blackguards, whose only interest was, perhaps, the value of a pot of beer depending on the result, and who were proportionately anxious to win, tie, or wrangle rather than lose their valuable (?) investments. After some time the ring-keepers succeeded in clearing these gentry away, and inducing Macdonald and Massey to return to their duty; and the referee having said “Fight on,” the battle proceeded.

14.――Paddock, to whom the delay had afforded a short respite, dashed in, caught Sayers on the cheek, closed, and both fell.

15.――Sayers feinted, and got on to Tom’s nozzle, drawing more claret, and, in getting away from a rush, crossed his legs near the stakes and fell.

16.――Paddock, who was evidently fast getting worn out, at the instigation of his seconds dashed in, as if to make a final effort to turn the scale; he let go both hands, but was short, and Sayers once more pinked him on the swollen smeller. Paddock still persevered, and more exchanges, but not of a severe description, took place, followed by a breakaway and a pause. Again did they get at it, and some heavy counter-hitting took place; Sayers well on the mouth and nose, and Paddock on the brow and forehead. Paddock then rushed in and bored Sayers down at the ropes. (Another claim of foul disallowed.)

17.――Paddock, desperate, rushed at once to work; and they pegged away with a will, but the punishment was all one way. At last they closed and rolled over, Sayers being top-sawyer. In the struggle and fall the spikes in Sayers’s boot in some way inflicted two severe wounds in Paddock’s leg, and Massey declared that the injury had been committed on purpose; but this every one who saw the fight was convinced was preposterous. Even supposing it was Sayers’s spikes, it was evidently accidental, but so clumsily did they roll over that it is not impossible that it was done by the spikes in the heel of Paddock’s other boot, which spikes were much longer and sharper than those of Sayers. The idea of Sayers doing such a thing deliberately when he actually had the battle in hand is too ridiculous to admit of a question.

18.――Paddock rushed in and caught Sayers on the side of the head with his right, and they closed and pegged away at close quarters until Sayers got down.

19.――The in-fighting in the last round had told a tale on Paddock’s nob, which was much swollen, and the left eye was now beginning to follow suit with the right. At last they got close, and both fell, Paddock under. Massey made another claim that Sayers fell with his knees on Paddock, but it was evidently an attempt to snatch a verdict.

20.――Paddock tried to make an expiring effort, but was wofully short, and Sayers countered heavily with the left on the damaged cheek, then repeated the dose with great severity, staggering the burly Tom, who, however, soon collected himself, and once more led off, but out of distance. He then stood, until Sayers went to him, popped a heavy one on the nose, and the right on the cheek, then closed at the ropes, where he fibbed Paddock very heavily, and both fell, Paddock under.

21 and last.――Paddock came very slowly to the scratch, evidently without the ghost of a shadow of a chance. He was groggy, and could scarcely see; the close quarters in the last round had done their work, and any odds might have been had on Sayers. Paddock tried a rush, but, of course, Sayers was nowhere near him, and as he came again Sayers met him full on the right cheek, a very heavy hit with his left. It staggered poor Tom, who was evidently all abroad, and all but fell. He put out his hands, as if to catch hold of Sayers to support himself, and the latter, who had drawn back his right hand to deliver the coup de grace, seeing how matters stood, at once restrained himself, and seizing Paddock’s outstretched hand, shook it warmly, and conducted him to his corner, where his seconds, seeing it was all over, at once threw up the sponge, and Sayers was proclaimed the victor in one hour and twenty minutes. Paddock was much exhausted, and it was some time before he was sufficiently himself to realise the fact that he had been defeated, when he shed bitter tears of mortification. That he had any cause for grief beyond the fact that he was defeated no one could say; indeed if ever man persevered against nature to make a turn it was he, for notwithstanding the constant severe props he got whenever he attempted to lead, he tried it on again and again, and, to his praise be it said, took his gruel with a good temper exceeding anything we have ever witnessed on his behalf during the whole of his career. As soon as possible after the event was over, the men were dressed and conveyed on board the vessel, where Paddock received every attention his state required; but it was long before he recovered from the mortification he felt at his unexpected defeat. Sayers in the meantime went round among the spectators, and made a collection for him amounting to £30.

REMARKS.――Although the above battle tells its own tale, our account would not be complete unless we appended a few remarks, not only upon the contest itself, but also on the general management and other concomitants. From the very commencement it was obvious to us that the fight was out of Tom Paddock. All the devil and determination for which he had been so famous had completely left him, and he was almost as slow and ineffective as the old Tipton. True, he left no stone unturned, and never once flinched from the severity of the punishment administered to him. He took all that Sayers gave with apparent indifference, and although it was obvious his powers of delivering had departed, his extraordinary gifts as a receiver of punishment were fully equal to his olden reputation; and, as we have before remarked, his good temper exceeded anything we have ever witnessed on his part. It was supposed by many that had he not injured his right hand by the blow delivered upon the stake he would have done better; but, as he used that mauley afterwards so effectually as to floor the Champion, and as he admitted to us that he felt his cause to be hopeless previous to that accident, such speculations go for nought. That both his daddles eventually became much swollen and innocuous is true, but that he could have turned the tide in his favour had this not have been the case, we do not believe. It was not the mere hardness of the hammer that was wanting, but the steam for driving the hammer was absent. The principal cause of regret was that he should have been induced, after his severe illness, to try conclusions with one so much fresher, and, as it turned out, stronger than himself; but, however much his physical powers had declined, it was all along evident that his old spirit of daring everything was as strong in him as ever. From the first moment he entered the ring he did all, and more than all, that could be required of him to make a turn in his favour, but in vain. As may be gathered from our account, he once or twice seemed to gain a slight advantage, but it was very short lived. Enough, however, was done by him to convince us that had he been the Paddock of five years ago, the chance of Tom Sayers retaining his proud position would have been anything but “rosy.” The collection made for Paddock proved the estimation in which his gallantry was held by the spectators.

Sayers, throughout the contest, fought with that extraordinary judgment of time and distance which so much distinguished him during the last few years of his career; and from the first it was apparent that any diffidence he might have displayed in his mill with the Slasher had completely disappeared. He abstained, to a considerable extent, from the harlequinade which he displayed in that encounter, and often stood and fought with his ponderous opponent with steadiness and precision. He fell down, it is true, three times, but only on one of these occasions could it be fairly said that it was not accidental, and even then we do not believe that it was a wilful act, especially as it was clear that the tumbling system was farthest from his thoughts, and his great desire was to keep Paddock on his legs.

Tom had now reached the very pinnacle of his fame, for among the not very extensive range of big ones then in the field――Harry Poulson, Aaron Jones, the Tipton Slasher, and Tom Paddock had fallen beneath his punishing arm, while Harry Broome, having struck his flag to Tom Paddock, and Harry Orme (who had also retired) surrendered to Harry Broome――there was a clear title made for the Little Wonder, Tom Sayers, the first ten-stone Champion.

This state of things seemed likely to leave Tom to enjoy _in otium cum dignitate_ the laurels of his many hard-fought days. The year 1858 grew old, when once more “an Unknown” was talked of, who would be backed to try conclusions for the £400 and belt against the redoubted Tom. Again these rumours came from the head-quarters of the erewhile Champion, Harry Broome, in the Haymarket; and to the astonishment of every one who recollected the “lame and impotent conclusion” which, sixteen months before, marked what was supposed to be the first and last appearance within any ring of Mr. Bill Bainge (Benjamin), that worthy was named as the man for the coming fight.

It was urged by himself and his friends that he did not have fair play in his training for his former battle; that he was very far from well on the day of fighting; that these drawbacks, coupled with his novelty of his position in entering the ring for the first time, and going through the ceremony of peeling, &c., before the assembled throng, had quite unnerved him, and rendered him almost oblivious as to what had actually taken place. The weather, too (it was January, and bitterly cold), had a great effect on him, his frame not being accustomed to the exposure in a “state of buff;” and besides all this, he himself asserted that the suddenness and severity of the punishment he received was something that had more paralysed than hurt him. He had felt ever since that a stigma attached to his name, which he felt conscious was not deserved. He believed himself at heart to be no coward, and, being anxious to vindicate himself, he had begged his backer to give him an opportunity of clearing his character, and that gentleman, believing his version of the case to be true, had kindly granted him a new trial. Of course, when Sayers heard of the challenge he was nothing loth, feeling, as he did, certain of victory, while further calculating that what he considered such an easy job would bring him six months nearer to the retention of the belt as his own private property, he threw not the slightest difficulty in the way of settling preliminaries, and articles were signed and delivered at once.

The men did not go into training immediately, as they had nearly six months before them, but Benjamin took every opportunity of gaining such knowledge as might assist him in his undertaking, and acting under the advice of an experienced ring-goer, he lost no time in securing the services of “ould Nat Langham,” whose judgment could not but prove of the greatest assistance. Liberal offers were made to Nat to go down to Shirenewton, where Benjamin was resident, to take the entire management of him, but Nat rightly judged that his own business was such as to require his presence; he, therefore, contented himself with an occasional run down for a couple of days, when he enforced upon his pupil some of his own peculiar style of practice in many a heavy bout with the mufflers. As he could not undertake the whole training, however, Nat recommended Bill’s backer to send a retaining fee to the bold Bendigo, whose country habits, sobriety, vigilance, and judgment he knew could be depended upon, and the appearance of his _protégé_ on the day of battle proved that his confidence had not been misplaced, for his whole bearing was the very perfection of condition. Bendy, however, had a corporation of most Daniel Lambert-like proportions, no doubt much increased by good living, in which he had indulged while superintending his new pupil, and was therefore a curious choice for the trainer to a candidate for the championship.

As to the gallant Tom, he occupied the next four months after the articles were signed in starring it about the country, and exhibiting himself, his cups and his belts, to hosts of admiring friends. He took a benefit here, a benefit there, and a couple of benefits in one week somewhere else, and so on, and was everywhere so well received, that he must have returned to town, prior to his going into work, with a perfect sack full of “shiners.” He further announced at these gatherings his retirement from the Ring, which he had already fixed for June, 1860, when the belt would become his private property.

From the very first Tom held this match extremely light, and had expressed the most entire confidence, a confidence which at one time during the fight now under description we thought was very near proving his downfall, from the fact of his having split on the same rock which has proved fatal to many a good man and true under similar circumstances. We allude to neglect of training. The first portion of Tom’s exercise, which did not extend over more than seven weeks, was taken, as on former occasions, in the neighbourhood of Tunbridge Wells, but about a month later he removed to Rottingdean, another favourite locality of his, for the purpose of sea bathing, and it was during his stay at this place that his practices were anything but conducive to high condition. During his so-called training, Tom, instead of the usual walking, running, &c., was repeatedly seen on horseback in full career after the harriers which meet in the neighbourhood, and during these gallops his falls were anything but few and far between. Had the champion, by an unlucky purl, dislocated a limb or sprained an ankle or a wrist, what a pretty pickle his backers would have been in, and how he would have cursed his own folly! His backers’ money would have been thrown away, his belt would have been forfeited, and he would have had to recommence his career of three years as its holder, in addition to losing the confidence of those who were behind him. As it was, on entering the ring, the general remark was that he was too fleshy, and there were signs of a protuberance in the neighbourhood of his bread-basket which told an unmistakable tale. Many a brave fellow has suffered severely for this reckless despising of an adversary, and has thereby lost a position which he has never been able to regain.

The rumours and speculations anent this match were of the most extraordinary character. Tales of deep-laid conspiracies to rob the public――such as it has never been our ill fortune to see put into practice during our career as chroniclers of this truly British sport――were rife. The croakers and slanderers, who always look at the dark side of the picture, and by listening to the statements of those who attempt to decry the ring by blackening the characters of its members, are always ready to see “a barney” in every match, could not be persuaded to believe that Tom Sayers had far too high a notion of himself to listen to any suggestions on such a subject; and that, even admitting, for the sake of argument, that his principles might give way (which we were confident they would not), his pride and vanity were such as to forbid the supposition. While on the subject of “barneys” we may be permitted to remark, that such occurrences are much more common in the imaginations of some would-be knowing ones, who are literally know-nothings, than in the actual practice of the P.R.; and that we firmly believe, and we state it earnestly and seriously, that there is far less of this kind of thing in the doings of the members of the Prize Ring than in almost any other sport. Besides these rumours about “Mr. Barney,” there were whisperings that Benjamin was in reality an extraordinary good man, and that the winning of the former fight by Sayers was purely a piece of accidental good fortune. How these various “shaves” were received by the general public and by the _cognoscenti_ may be best gathered from the fact that as the day approached no one would take less than 4 to 1 about Benjamin winning, and that many persons laid 5 to 2 that Sayers would win in a quarter of an hour. The betting on the whole, however, was small in amount, the cause no doubt being the preposterous odds demanded, which, as the backers of Sayers said, was actually buying money.

Shortly after eleven o’clock Tom Sayers modestly dropped his castor over the ropes, and then as modestly crept under them himself. He was attended by Jerry Noon and Harry Brunton, and was received with enthusiastic cheers. He had wisely donned his milling boots and drawers, and had therefore only to remove his outer shell. After an interval of five minutes he was followed by Benjamin, who made his _entrée_ in an equally unpretending way. He also was well received. He was waited on by the Bold Bendigo and Jack Macdonald. At this time there were several offers to bet £20 to £5 on Sayers, but there were no takers. Despatch being the order of the day, no time was lost by the men in preparing for action. Benjamin, like Sayers, had taken the precaution to make ready beforehand, so that a very few minutes sufficed to strip and tie the colours in their appropriate places. Sayers sported a pink and white striped brocaded silk of the richest description, while Benjamin adhered to the old-fashioned blue and white spot. By twenty-three minutes past eleven o’clock, under a burning sun, the men were delivered at the scratch and stood ready for hostilities amidst the most profound silence. Benjamin appeared in perfect health and condition; he had a smile of confidence on his mug, and he stood well up in a fearless manner, presenting a wide contrast to his _début_ on the former occasion. He stood well over Sayers, whose height is only 5 feet 8½ inches, and struck us as decidedly the more powerful man. Although Tom was evidently too fleshy, there was a dash and calm self-possession about him which denoted the more accustomed boxer. He moved about in a business-like way, and evidently had no fears for the result.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Benjamin stood well on the defensive, and there was much in his position to remind us of his mentor, Nat Langham. He fixed his eye on Tom, and sparred for a short time to see what could be done. His whole bearing, indeed, was such as to call forth a general remark that he was a different man. Tom dodged in and out in his usual style, evidently trying for his favourite double, but Benjamin was ready. At length Tom dashed in, and delivered his left on the cheek, but was beautifully countered on the smelling bottle, and Benjamin had the honour of gaining “first blood” from that organ, a success which was hailed with much cheering from the Taffies. Sayers seemed pricked at this, and making his favourite dodge, he popped the left on the body and then on the left cheek, knocking Benjamin off his pins, thus gaining the second event, and equalizing matters.

2.――Benjamin, nothing daunted, came steadily to the scratch, and, after a feint, let go his left, which was well stopped. He got away from the return, and after some sparring got home the left on the chest, and they got to close quarters, when the in-fighting was of a heavy description. Each got pepper on the nozzle and whistler, and Sayers also planted heavily on the side of Bill’s nob. In the close at the ropes Benjamin was forced down.

3.――Both came up a good deal flushed, and each seemed blowing. Benjamin looked serious, and was rather cautious. Sayers, anxious to be at work, dashed in, and got home a very straight one on the proboscis, but Benjamin with great quickness countered him on the left cheek, just under the eye. This led to desperate exchanges, in which there appeared to be no best. At length Sayers caught his man round the neck, and holding him tight, pegged away with a will on his dial, and finally threw him heavily, his nob coming with some force against the stake.

4.――Benjamin, desperate, at once rushed to work, and after some tremendous exchanges, each getting it on the left eye, Benjamin fell.

5.――Sayers tried to lead off, but Benjy walked away, in obedience to his seconds. Sayers followed until they got close together, and a magnificent rally followed, in which Sayers drew the claret from Bill’s right brow, and also paid a heavy visit to the conk. Bill got on Tom’s left cheek, but his blows had not the precision and weight visible on the part of Sayers.

6.――Benjamin was evidently shaken by the punishment he had received, which even at this early period was very severe. He sparred, and was evidently in no hurry. Sayers seeing this went to him, but was exceedingly wild in his deliveries. At last he got home on the bread-basket, but without effect, and Benjamin missed his return. Tom now feinted, and just reached Bill’s smeller, but it was a mere flyblow. He tried a body blow, and was well countered on the cheek and mouth. A close and in-fighting followed, in which both were very wild, but in which Tom again turned on the main from Benjamin’s nose. After a struggle both fell through the ropes.

7.――Benjamin looked savage. He lost no time in dashing at his man, and a tremendous round followed. Sayers let go the left at the nose, but Benjy countered him straight and well with the same hand, opening a fresh bottle. Several tremendous counters with the left followed, Benjamin astonishing every one by his calmness, and by the precision with which he timed his hits. Each got pepper on the nose and eyes, and Sayers napped a nasty one on the middle of the forehead. Sayers now missed his left, and Bill returned well on the cheek. They broke away, and after surveying one another again went to it, and more heavy exchanges took place, in which Tom again turned on the main from Bill’s nasal fountain. Benjamin persevered, and again did they dispute the ground inch by inch. Both were blowing, and the confidence of Bill’s friends was looking up. It was plain both men meant to do all they knew in this bout, and that each felt that it was to be the turning point, one way or the other. Sayers now got heavily on the left eye, which began to close, while Bill caught him on the mouth. The fighting was tremendous, and the way Benjamin stood to his man was beyond all praise. Sayers now and then was extremely wild, and had Benjamin possessed more knowledge of the art the result might have been serious, for Tom was evidently tiring fast, but still the greater force of his hitting was evidently telling a tale. As hit succeeded hit Bill’s dial grew more slantindicular; but he was undaunted, and evidently had made up his mind to do or die. At length they got to close quarters, when some heavy fibbing took place, and both fell, Benjamin under.

8.――Bill’s left eye was all but closed, the bump at the side telling of Tom’s powers of delivery. Sayers was much flushed, and puffing like a grampus; he lost no time, however, in going to work, evidently hoping to frighten his man. Benjamin was ready, and after some sharp exchanges in his favour, he retreated. Tom followed, and as Benjamin attempted to plant his left, Tom cross-countered him heavily with his right on the jaw, and knocked him off his pins. He was almost out of time, and it required all the exertions of his seconds to get him round.

9.――Benjamin shook himself, and came up resolutely, but evidently much shaken. He sparred a little, and on Tom going in, he timed him neatly on the middle of the dial, but without much force. Again did Sayers try it with a like result, and Benjamin then dashed in, but was short. Sayers returned with great quickness on the bad eye, and poor Benjamin was again floored.

10.――Benjamin struggled up gamely, although requested to give in; he held up his hands, and tried to counter with his man, but Tom with great neatness got well home on the good eye, avoiding the return, and Benjamin once more dropped. His seconds threw up the sponge, but the poor fellow broke from them, with an intimation that he was not licked, and wanted to prove he was no cur, and commenced.

11th and last.――Benjamin tried to lead off, but it was evidently a mere flash in the pan; he missed and stumbled forward, when Tom gave him a slight tap on the nose, which sent him for the last time to grass. He was conveyed to his corner, and his seconds then declared he should fight no longer. Sayers went to him to shake hands, but Benjamin, who was all but blind, wished to commence another round. This, of course, could not be listened to, and the poor fellow was forced from the ring against his will, Sayers being proclaimed the winner in twenty-two minutes, amidst the enthusiastic cheers of his friends. Benjamin was much exhausted, and his punishment was as heavy as one generally sees in double the time. He took it, however, unflinchingly, never complaining from first to last; and on this occasion, although defeated, his most determined enemy (if he has one) cannot say he was dishonoured. Sayers also was much exhausted, but this arose not so much from his punishment, although in this respect he did not come off scatheless, as from his want of condition telling upon him in a battle which was disputed for some rounds with unwonted quickness and desperation.

REMARKS.――Having commented upon the want of condition of Tom Sayers, and having gone at some length into a description of this short but busy fight, it is unnecessary to trouble our readers with many remarks thereupon. That Benjamin succeeded in redeeming his character, and proving that he can receive punishment and struggle hard for victory when properly looked after, is not for a moment to be denied, but that he will ever make a star in the pugilistic horizon we do not for a moment believe. He is, at 34, too old to learn the rudiments of the business; at that age even the limbs of a practised boxer begin to get stiff, and it is therefore extremely improbable that those of a man trained to other pursuits can acquire that quickness and readiness so necessary to a finished pugilist. Had he begun some years ago, we think it not improbable, with such strength and activity as he possesses, he might have hoped to rank in the first division. The desperation with which he contested the seventh round――which was one of the sharpest and severest we ever saw――evidently showed what he might have done; but as it is we think, having fulfilled his mission and proved to his friends that he is composed of more sterling metal than they gave him credit for, the best advice we can give him is to shun for the future the attractions of the P.R., and devote himself to the duties of his station in his own country. We are glad for his own credit sake that he determined to undergo this second ordeal, and equally glad that he came out of it so successfully. It also gives us pleasure to know that he has good and staunch friends at his back, who having witnessed his performance on Tuesday, are perfectly satisfied with him. Of Tom Sayers we have only to say that he did not fight so well on this as on former occasions; and, as we think this was entirely owing to want of condition, we feel we are only doing him a favour in impressing upon him the necessity in future of leaving no stone unturned to retain that confidence which has been hitherto so implicitly placed in him.

Thus ended the second attempt of the Broomes (Harry and Frederick) to wrest the belt from the great little Champion, but there were other “Richmonds” now in the field. Bob Brettle, of Birmingham, could not persuade himself that he was unable to interpose a check to the victorious career of the hardy Tom. Bob had his own reasons, too, for believing in his chance. He had tried conclusions with the Champion with the gloves, and felt assured he had the best of it; and in this, perhaps, he was not far wrong, for it was pretty generally known that Tom was much more at home with his digits in nature’s habiliments, and in a four-and-twenty-feet ring, than when they were muffled in horsehair in the sparring-school. The backers of Tom at first laughed at Bob’s propositions, but he declared he was in earnest, and went so far as to say they would wish they had let him alone before they had done with him. After much palaver Sayers offered to stake £400 to £200, but Brettle then required the belt to be thrown in. This, of course, was rejected, Tom considering that as holder of that trophy he was only bound to defend it on even terms. Brettle was extremely loth to give up his chance for the belt, but still he did not think it equivalent to the extra £200 which Sayers had offered to stake, and eventually he waived all pretensions to the “ornamental,” and closed the bargain on the chance of obtaining the “useful,” which would have sufficed to purchase a belt of double the mere intrinsic value.

At the meeting at Owen Swift’s, where the articles were finally ratified, a friend of the Champion’s treated the match with such ridicule that he ventured to suggest the probability of Bob being licked in _ten minutes_, whereupon Brettle, in the heat of the moment, offered to bet £100 to £10 against such a contingency. “Make it £200 to £20,” said Tom’s friend, “and it’s a bet.” “Done,” said Bob, and the money was staked in the hands of Alec Keene. All these preliminaries were adjusted before the second fight for the Championship in April between Tom Sayers and Bill Benjamin, it being stipulated that Tom should name a day after that event was decided.

At Tattersall’s, on the previous Monday, September 18th, the event seemed to attract as much attention as the speculations on either of the great handicaps, and in the yard a regular ring was formed, where betting, or offers to bet, went on very briskly. The backers of Tom commenced by offering 5 to 2, at which some few investments were made, but the Brums soon opened their mouths for longer odds, and would take no less than 3 to 1, and at this price again money was laid until the Sayersites in their turn held back, and speculation left off at offers of 5 to 2. In the evening, at the sporting houses, 3 to 1 might have been got in some few instances, and a sanguine admirer of Tom’s actually laid 4 to 1, but we believe he was a solitary specimen.

For at least a month, Mr. John Gideon, one of the most earnest backers of Sayers, had been on the look-out for a scene of action which might be reached with ease and comfort, and which, at the same time, should be so situated as to be beyond the reach of the rough and ready attendants at boxing matches, whose presence is anything but desirable, and also tolerably safe from the too-prying eyes of the powers that be, who do not love a mill, and who will in the most unaccountable manner interfere with the pleasures of the Fancy, on the ground that a friendly boxing-match is a breach of the peace. A few consultations with other managers of excursions, and a considerable expenditure of time and trouble, ended in the perfect success of Mr. Gideon’s arrangements, and not only did he carry the expedition to a triumphant _dénouement_, but ensured the utmost comfort to all the travellers. Of course the profits of the expedition were equally divided between the backers of both men, and the figure being tolerably high, and the company unusually numerous, there is no doubt each realised a handsome sum. Owing to the distance to be travelled, a very early start was found absolutely necessary, and seven o’clock being the hour named, the “lads wot loves a mill” had to be early afoot; and many there were who having, as usual, devoted the first two or three hours of the morning of the 20th of September to “seeing life,” found some difficulty in opening their eyes in their very first sleep to enable them to get to the starting-post in time. Many a one started breakfastless, and many were the wistful glances cast at the victualling department under the able charge of Mr. Dan Pinkstone, an old and well-known caterer, long before the end of the journey was attained; but as the train could not be stopped there was of course no chance of an issue of stores from the commissariat until the goal was reached――a field near Ashford, in Kent, being the _champ clos_ for combat.

The train comprised thirty-six carriages, every one of which had at least its full complement of travellers, and many were over-full. The start was effected by a quarter before eight, and with the aid of two powerful engines a rapid and pleasant journey was effected to the scene of action, on entirely maiden ground, some sixty miles from the Metropolis, which was reached shortly after ten o’clock. The vast multitude lost no time in clearing out from the carriages, and a pioneer, who had gone on ahead the previous evening, placing himself at the head of the army, proceeded, closely followed by the veteran Commissary and his _posse comitatus_, to the proposed scene of action. No time was cut to waste in preparing the lists, which were in readiness before eleven o’clock. While these preliminaries were being arranged, a brisk business was carried on in the sale of inner ring tickets, and our readers may judge of the class of spectators and their number when we tell them that the sale realised a sum of £54 10s. for the benefit of the P.B.A. This done, Billy Duncan and his constables proceeded to clear out the ring, and experienced the usual difficulty in persuading the company to seat themselves at a sufficient distance from the enclosure. All were naturally anxious to be as close as possible, and accordingly had seated themselves in compact rows, those in front close to the ropes. The consequence was, that all were crowded together, and many were scarcely able to get a glimpse of the ring. And now as we have brought the men _en face_, we will say a few words concerning Tom’s antagonist, as we do not purpose to devote space to him in a separate Memoir.

BOB BRETTLE was born at Portobello, near Edinburgh, in January, 1832, and was therefore, six years younger than Tom Sayers. On the present occasion he just turned the scale at 10st. 4lb., and did not appear in any way too fleshy. By calling he was a glassblower, and it was while he was engaged in one of the larger establishments in the hardware districts that he first became connected with the P.R. His first essay of which we have any record was with Malpas, of Birmingham, whom he fought for £50 a side, on the 14th of February, 1854. There were 80 rounds, principally in favour of Bob, but eventually there was a claim of foul on his part. A wrangle took place; the referee gave two decisions, and ultimately the stakes were drawn. Brettle’s next encounter was with old Jack Jones of Portsmouth, for £100 a side, on the 21st of November, 1854. Jack had only been out of the hospital a few weeks, and was in anything but condition; but still he had the best of the mill, Brettle resorting to the dropping system. Forty-nine rounds were fought in 105 minutes, when darkness came on, and as neither man was much punished, the referee ordered them to fight again on the following Saturday. On that day Jones was at the appointed place, but Brettle did not show, and it being discovered subsequently that he had been apprehended, either through the kind offices of his friends or by his own negligence, the stakes were awarded to Jones. After this Bob was idle until the 20th of November, 1855, when he defeated Roger Coyne, of Birmingham, for £25 a side, in 49 rounds and 48 minutes. Then came his match with Sam Simmonds, for £200 a side, which took place near Didcot, June 3rd, 1856, and was won by Bob very easily in 13 rounds and 16 minutes.

Another year, or rather more, elapsed before Bob made another essay, his next opponent being Job Cobley, dubbed by his patron Baron (Renton) Nicholson, “the Enthusiastic Potboy,” whom he fought for £100 a side, August 4th, 1857. Here Bob’s greater weight and superior strength enabled him to take a decided lead, and Job, finding it too hot to be pleasant, resorted to dropping, and finally lost the battle by falling without a blow in the 47th round, at the expiration of 90 minutes.

On the 25th of January following, Brettle met Bob Travers for £100 a side at Appledore, when, after fighting 42 rounds in 65 minutes, the police interfered. An adjournment took place to the following day, when they met again at Shell Haven, and after fighting 100 rounds in 2 hours and 5 minutes, Bob Travers, who had, like “the Enthusiastic Potboy,” found the earth the safest place, was decided to have lost the battle by falling without a blow.

Bob’s only subsequent encounter was with Jem Mace of Norwich, who, as may be seen in our next chapter, met him, for £100 a side, on the 21st of September, 1858, and at the end of two rounds and three minutes, although with none the worst of it, hid his diminished head, and declined to have any more. This was Bob’s last appearance prior to the present, and it was imagined by most people that he would retire from the Ring, but the temptation of a turn at the Champion was too great for him, and induced him to try a flight at the top of the tree. It is difficult to understand whence he got the confidence to match himself against Sayers, unless it was from his supposed superiority with the gloves――in the case of Tom Sayers an unusually delusive test. This brings us to the eventful 20th of September, 1858, and the ring at Ashford.

So soon as all were seated a cap was seen to fly over the heads of the dense mass, and in a second Bob Brettle, aided by his seconds, Alec Keene and Jem Hodgkiss, of Birmingham, was seen elbowing his way through the crowd. He was vociferously cheered on all hands, and his good-humoured mug brightened up with a broad grin of delight at the hearty welcome. Tom Sayers was not long behind him, and as he entered on the scene, attended by Jack Macdonald and Harry Brunton, he too was greeted with a tremendous ovation, which he acknowledged in a becoming manner, and then shook hands good-humouredly with his opponent. The spectators now began to make their final investments, and several bets of 3 to 1 were made and staked to considerable amounts. The last, however, that we heard was £25 to £10 on Sayers. After the lads had completed their toilettes Brettle came forward and offered to take £150 to £50 from Tom, but the Champion declined, as his money was all on. Bob then held up the note and offered to take the same odds from any spectator, but silence was the only reply, and he had to return the flimsy to his “cly.” Tom’s colour was a very handsome blue and white stripe, with blue border; and Bob’s a dark blue, with a white star. Brettle’s boots having been examined by Tom’s seconds, it was found that the spikes were beyond the regulation length, and had to be filed, but this was so inefficiently done that they were still far too sharp and long for the purpose for which they were intended. Had Sayers’s seconds done their duty resolutely they would have shown them to the referee, who doubtless would have ordered a still further curtailment, but Tom personally requested them to make no bother about it, as, in his own words, he “could give all that in.”

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――On throwing off their blankets there was a great disparity in the appearance of the men, much greater, indeed, than would have been expected from the slight difference in weight. Tom, whose condition was superb, was broad-shouldered, thick-loined, and muscular, the weight being just where it ought to be; while Brettle looked narrow and round on the shoulders, and had not the upright, firm bearing of the Champion. In height, too, there appeared more than the actual difference of a bare inch. Tom’s mug, of the two, was fleshier than his opponent’s, but it looked hard as nails. In point of age it was evident there was a considerable difference in favour of the Brum, whose fresh, fair skin and healthful country appearance contrasted strongly with the Champion’s bronzed but somewhat stale complexion. The wear and tear of fifteen contests, and the gay life he had led, had evidently left their mark. Each had a pleasant, good-humoured smile on his phiz, but the Champion seemed to be more at home than his adversary. Bob looked cunning and shifty, walking round his man with a kind of crab-like, sideway movement, and leering out of the corner of his eye, evidently on the look-out to catch the Champion tripping, and make a dash at him with his right. Tom was awake, however, and though not moving far from the scratch, stepped with his adversary, and contrived to keep continually facing him. At length Bob, finding his man so “fly” to his “little game,” dashed straight at him, and let go the left, which caught Tom very slightly on the nose. Tom nodded and smiled as much as to say, “Wait a minute;” and Bob renewed his journey round his man, who remained in the middle of the ring. At length Brettle again dashed in, and exchanges took place, in which Tom left his mark on Bob’s forehead, the bump being of considerable size. Brettle retreated, came again, and lunging out his left was prettily countered on the mouth, from which “first blood” was instantly visible, the blow being a hot ’un. Some neat exchanges followed on the side of the head; they then broke away, and, as Sayers followed his man, Bob ducked his head, but Sayers caught him a sharp spank on the proboscis, which led to counter-hitting, when Tom got well on the forehead, and Bob fell. A claim of first knock-down for Tom was made but disallowed, as Bob was evidently getting down when the blow reached him.

2.――Bob’s nose and mouth showed that Tom had been there; he, however, dashed in, and heavy exchanges took place, Tom getting on to the left peeper and Brettle the body. Brettle now broke away, and resorted to his cunning peripatetic dodge, but Tom only grinned, turned as he moved, and waited for him. At length Bob dashed in, and got on the chest very slightly, Sayers returning well on the kisser. Brettle, after another pedestrian excursion, came again and let go the left, which was stopped, and he again “walked round and showed his muscle.” Tom stepped with him, and each tried to draw the other, until Brettle at last let go his left, and sharp exchanges followed on the cheek with the left, and Sayers fell. A claim of knockdown for Brettle not allowed, Tom being on the hop, and partially slipping down.

3.――Sayers, on owning up, had a slight mark on the left cheek, which caused the Brums to cheer vociferously. Brettle, seeing it, made a dash to force the fighting, but Tom stopped him by a straight one on the whistler, and then closed. This led to some sharp but very wild in-fighting in Tom’s corner, and at last Brettle was down on his knees with all the worst of it.

4.――The Brum came up blinking with his left eye, which had evidently got pepper in the last wild rally, and seemed as if about to close. It was now discovered that the ten minutes had just expired, and that his bet of £200 was saved. He lost no time in getting to work, but giving one or two sideway steps he dashed in, planted his right on the ribs, and then one or two sharp counter-hits were exchanged. While dodging and stepping in and out, Brettle’s spikes came into dangerous collision with Tom’s shin, and inflicted a serious wound; Tom pointed to the injured spot and shook his head, whereupon Bob apologised, assured him that it was unintentional, and promised to be more careful for the future. The wound was excessively deep, and only shows the extreme danger of using such absurd spikes, which are utterly useless to a man who intends really to keep on his legs. Tom, after a little dodging, got heavily on the nose, and counter-hits were exchanged, Tom getting very heavily on the left peeper, and receiving a hot one on the jaw, which knocked him clean off his legs. (“First knock down” for Brettle, who was enthusiastically cheered as he went to his corner.)

5.――On coming up there was no mark of Bob’s visitation on Tom’s jaw, but the effect of Tom’s blows on Brettle’s mouth and eye was very visible. His nose and left eye were swollen, and the claret was still visible from his mouth. (The backers of Tom offered 4 to 1, but in only one instance was it taken――viz., by Bob Travers, who invested “a tenner” on the Brummagem pet.) Brettle, after a little queer manœuvring, rushed in left and right, and got the latter on the body, but not heavily. He looked serious, and walked round and round, but finding Tom ready he tried a dash, succeeding in landing the right on the body. Tom got heavily on the forehead, and then, counter-hits being exchanged, Brettle got slightly on the neck, and Tom, with his right, caught Brettle very heavily on the left shoulder, and Bob went down in Tom’s corner. Sayers ran after Brettle as he was being carried to his corner, with a curious look of anxiety and alarm on his countenance, evidently thinking that he had inflicted some dangerous injury. Finding, however, that the blow had not had the serious effect he feared, he walked smiling to his corner.

6.――Brettle came up looking very serious, and several times led off left and right, but quite out of distance. Tom then stepped in and tried his left, which Brettle cleverly avoided, and then returned on the chest. They quickly got to close quarters, and after a sharp exchange on the neck, Brettle fell forward on his hands in Sayers’s corner, Tom missing a terrific upper-cut with his right as he fell.

7th and last.――Brettle missed several well-intended lunges with the right, and then walked round the ring; he came again, and tried the left with a similar result. He kept hitting out of distance, as if afraid of Tom’s right, which had already missed him so narrowly. Again and again did he step in and out, and as Sayers tried to catch him on the hop he would point and grin; at last he got slightly on the chest, receiving a little one on the cheek. Brettle retreated, and then hit out with his left most furiously, but missed, and Tom countered him heavily on the shoulder; Brettle immediately put his right hand to his shoulder as if in pain; he, however, shook himself together, and tried to stand and prop his man with his right, but from the expression of his countenance something evidently was amiss, and on Tom’s approaching him he got down in his own corner, apparently suffering considerable pain. Solid Coates, his umpire, at once went to his corner, and on inquiry found that he had dislocated his shoulder, either by the force of his own blow, or from the effect of Tom’s heavy counter; and this being the case, of course he had no option but to resign the victory to Tom Sayers, who was hailed the conqueror in _fifteen minutes_. Tom at once went to shake hands with his fallen foe, and then resuming his clothes, quickly reappeared among his friends without a mark to show that he had been fighting. A medical friend who was on the ground quickly attended upon poor Brettle, and lost no time in restoring his arm to its position, and the poor fellow, more injured in mind than body, was soon sufficiently recovered to enter freely into conversation with his friends, many of whom believed, and still believe, that he had to the full as good a chance as Tom Sayers at the time so disastrous a termination to the battle occurred. That this was so is, of course, but a matter of opinion; our ideas on the subject will be found in the remarks appended. That Bob’s own opinion did not coincide with that of his friends may be gathered from the fact that he subsequently called upon us to state his intention of retiring from the ring. He says he knows of no man of his weight who is likely to try conclusions with him; that he has no intention of again overmatching himself as on the present occasion, and as he has a good business in Birmingham, he thinks he can well afford to leave fighting alone, at any rate as an active professor of the art. In this resolve we think he is perfectly right, and as he is a thoroughly honest, upright young fellow, and of an excellent temper, we do not doubt of his success.

Before closing this part of our account we should not be rendering justice where it is due did we not mention that Jack Macdonald, one of Tom Sayers’s seconds, on finding the nature of Bob’s injuries, rushed to his corner, and rendered very material assistance to the surgeon in attendance in restoring the dislocated arm to its socket.

REMARKS.――Where the battle was of such short duration, it is, of course, difficult to find much to say in the shape of remarks. To every judge of milling who was on the ground, not excluding some of Brettle’s own friends, it was obvious from the very first round that, bar an accident, the victory must lie with the favourite. In fact, in our own hearing, at the conclusion of the first round, where Tom drew the crimson from Brettle’s mouth, and set his sign manual on his forehead, one of the backers of the latter said, “It’s all over; we shan’t win.” It had been anticipated that the Champion, in his anxiety to win the bet of £200 to £20, would at once take the initiative, and that thereby he would throw himself open to the dangerous right-handed counters of Bob; but those who knew Tom Sayers were too well acquainted with his judgment and tact to believe any such thing; hence their confidence and the great odds they so freely laid. From the very commencement it was obvious Tom saw the game he had to play, and the calm way in which he shifted his position so as always to present a square front to the enemy delighted every one. He was, of course, taken by surprise at Bob’s getting home first, but this only rendered him steadier, and convinced him that he must act in a cautious manner. We do not believe he for a moment contemplated going for the bet, although we feel convinced that had one vicious upper-cut got home he must have won it to the greatest certainty. In all his recent fights he has been the one that has fought in the jump-about, dancing-master style, but here he was the steady old stager, quietly biding his time and seldom throwing away a hit. The knock-down blow in the fourth round was indubitably a fair knock-down, but it must not be forgotten that although matters thereby looked favourable for Brettle, the real fact was that Tom in his counter got home much heavier than his opponent, and that had he been stepping in instead of back at the moment he would not have been floored. The proof of the effectiveness of the blow was seen on the men again appearing at the scratch, when Tom showed no mark, while the evidence of his visitation to Bob’s eye was unmistakable. That the battle terminated as it did we cannot help feeling was fortunate for Brettle. Tom’s dangerous right――never brought into play until he has his man “safe,” as he says――was already busy; true, he missed once or twice, but he is not the man to do this often, and had it got home effectively there is no telling what injury he might have inflicted. The actual cause of Bob’s accident it is impossible to fathom. Some aver that it was partly caused by the heavy blow in the fifth round, others that the shoulder was injured by the fall on his hands, but, as he was able to use it so vigorously in the last round, we believe both these suppositions to be wrong. Possibly they may have rendered the muscles weaker than usual, and predisposed the arm for such a _contretemps_, but our own idea is that Bob, swinging his arm out so very viciously at a distance from his man, and receiving a tap on the collar-bone at the same moment, the joint was jerked out entirely in that manner. That his arm was dislocated there was not the slightest doubt, for we have the evidence not only of the surgeon himself, but also of Jack Macdonald, as to the dislocation being reduced: and even if we had not, the expression of poor Brettle’s countenance and his contortions when in his corner were far too natural to have been put on for the occasion. We should not have thought it necessary to make these observations had we not heard it whispered that a set of idiots, who think everything connected with the ring is “a barney,” or something tantamount to it, have been going about saying that there was no accident at all, and that the statement as to Brettle’s accident was all moonshine. The gentry who make these remarks should look at home, and before throwing mud at persons in a different walk of life, should consider whether in the event of a similar compliment being paid to themselves, there would not be a much larger portion of the sticking part attached to them, and whether they could be as easily whitewashed as their humbler, though perhaps, honester, brethren of the P.R. Of Brettle’s performances we need say but little. He evidently found himself out-generalled from the first; and this being the case, all that remained for him to do was to make the best of a bad bargain, and this we are bound to say he did to the utmost of his ability. Our own opinion was, before the battle, that he had not the ghost of a chance, and that opinion was borne out by the result. We are sorry that he was disappointed in his expectations, which were entirely raised by his underrating his man; but as we do not believe he will be a loser by his defeat, he is, perhaps, not to be so much pitied as some of his less fortunate compeers. He has been always a general favourite, and so long as he perseveres in his present straightforward course he must retain the good wishes of all parties. As we have stated above, we think he has taken a wise resolution in retiring from the Ring, and we hope that no vain flattery on the part of any interested admirers will induce him to change his resolution.

These excellent remarks of the writer, on the readiness of silly persons to impute dishonesty to the losing pugilist, are as laudable as they are just and honest. We shall elsewhere have occasion to remark upon a recent work devoted to the resuscitation and reassertion of these defunct, discreditable, and often dishonest “shaves.”

With this very easy defeat of the Birmingham Pet, Tom Sayers, as was generally supposed, had disposed of the last of his competitors for the belt; but it was not to be so. A breeze, whispering of war, was heard from across the broad Atlantic. Aaron Jones, not long after his defeat by Sayers, had emigrated to the land of the stars and stripes, and being a fine-looking young fellow, of good address, and of quiet and civil deportment, had found much favour as a teacher of the art pugilistic among our Yankee cousins. His anecdotes of British boxers and exemplifications of the English method became fashionable among the young bloods of New York, and the subject of pugilism grew to be the talk of the town. John Heenan had been selected by a party to “whip” John Morrissey, who for some reason had become obnoxious to some of them, and Heenan’s friends made choice of Aaron Jones as trainer and ring adviser of “The Benicia Boy.” Heenan, however, being attacked by illness, was stopped in his work, and thus forced to go into the ring with a stone of superabundant flesh, and suffered defeat at the hands of Morrissey. About the close of the year 1858, distance lending enchantment to the view, the Transatlantic papers told us that Aaron did not think Tom Sayers such a very formidable customer after all, and “Had a mind to return and have a second (third?) shy for the belt.” Rumour added that, failing Aaron, Uncle Sam was about to send over one of his champions, to see what he could do towards humbling the pride of the little Englishman. Early in 1849 rumour ripened into certainty, and a letter reached _Bell’s Life_ office from Mr. Wilkes, inquiring on what terms Heenan could be placed on the rota to have his turn against Sayers. A good deal of astonishment was created at the time by the fact that the defeated man, and not the winner of the American fight for the championship, had been selected; but when it came to be remembered that Morrissey, the winner, was an Irishman by birth, and not a native American, the wonderment ceased, and Heenan was recognised as the proper representative of America. The Editor of _Bell’s Life_ replied to Mr. Wilkes’s letter, intimating that immediately on the receipt of a deposit from Heenan he could be placed on the list. He further stated, however, that, in the event of his winning, he would not be permitted to take the belt back to America, without leaving its equivalent in value or remaining here three years to contest its possession against all comers on the usual terms. By the next mail, after Mr. Wilkes’s first letter, came a second, dated New York, March 29, 1859, which was as follows:――

“Office _Wilkes’s Spirit of the Times_, New York. “March 29, 1859.

“DEAR SIR,――Enclosed please find a draft for £200 sterling, drawn in your favour on the Bank of Liverpool, which I have been requested to forward to you, on the part of Aaron Jones, in order that you may deposit for him the necessary sum for a meeting with the Champion of England within six months of the date of the battle of the 5th April, between Sayers and Benjamin; and in case the winner of that fight do not accept, you will please hold the money subject to my order. The language with which Jones accompanies this draft is as follows:――‘I, Aaron Jones, hereby challenge the winner of the coming fight for the championship, to fight me in six months from that time for _two hundred pounds and the Champion’s belt_. The fight to take place near London, and to be governed by the rules of the London Prize Ring.’ Jones also requests me to say to you for him that ‘he would prefer having the forfeit or first deposit to be as much as _fifty pounds_, as he does not wish to be at the trouble of crossing the Atlantic for nothing, though he is willing to pay his own expenses over and back to get the fight.’ He also hopes that Sayers will, for old acquaintance’ sake, give him the first chance; but this is a consideration which I have no right to press, after having previously consented to lay before you the wishes or the claims of Heenan. Your sense of propriety will find a law for the matter, and will, I hope, likewise permit me to remain, yours, very truly at command,

“GEO. WILKES.

“P.S.――I am also desired by the backers of Jones to say that the stakes will be increased to _five hundred pounds a side_, if the Champion wishes it.

“G. W.”

To this letter Sayers at once replied, closing with the proposition of Jones, and thus placing that hero first on the list of candidates after his second battle with Benjamin. Hardly had the missive of the gallant Tom been despatched when another letter arrived from Mr. Wilkes――who throughout acted as the adviser and amanuensis of both Jones and Heenan――enclosing a sum of £50, which he had been directed by his friends to stake on the part of Heenan. In that letter he requested the stakeholder, if not contrary to rule, to give Heenan’s claim the preference, as that aspiring youth had been the first to challenge Sayers, and was fearful that if he was not at once placed on the list of candidates, his chance of encountering Sayers might be entirely lost by some unforeseen accident. Inasmuch, however, as Jones, with prudent foresight, had been the first to post the coal, the stakeholder felt bound, according to practice, to give him the priority, and Heenan was compelled reluctantly to moderate his impatience; Heenan, like Jones, offered, if Sayers wished, to increase the stakes to £500 a side.

Shortly after the second defeat of Bill Benjamin, Tom Sayers was called upon to meet Jack Macdonald, who had been delegated by Aaron Jones to act the part of plenipotentiary on his behalf. Another conference was held, and after many _pros_ and _cons._, articles were signed, sealed, and delivered, under which Jones was bound to fight the Champion early in the current year, a margin of one month being allowed on either side as to the actual day of battle. For this match £50 a side was deposited. It was not long after this that a further communication was received from Mr. Wilkes, requesting the stakeholder to return him £50 out of the £200 he had sent for Jones, to pay the passage of Aaron to Europe, and to transfer the remaining £100 to the account of the match between Heenan and Sayers. He added, that if Jones intended to go on with his match he would have to find the remainder of his money himself, his American friends having some reason to be dissatisfied with him, and being desirous of transferring all their interest to the Benicia Boy. By the very next mail came another letter intimating that Jones would be able to find all his money himself, and therefore the match was still to be considered “on,” and so for several months the matter rested.

In the following October the public were startled at reading the following letter from Mr. Wilkes to the Editor of _Bell’s Life in London_:――

“Office, _Wilkes’s Spirit of the Times_, New York, Oct. 7, 1859.

“MY DEAR SIR,――I take pleasure of informing you that Aaron Jones, conceding to the common desire on this side of the Atlantic to see Heenan have the first chance at Sayers for the Championship (after the Unknown), has desired me to have forfeited the £50 which now remain staked for him in your hands against Sayers. Enclosed I send you Jones’s letter authorising me to take this course; and as I represent the money of his backers, your authority for declaring the match “off” will, I suppose, be considered complete. I forget, as I write, whether Sayers has already covered a deposit of Heenan’s for the Championship; if not, please let the same deposit be made and covered in his case (£50) as was made and covered in the case of Aaron Jones. I am very solicitous about this point as, for special reasons, I want Heenan regularly upon the record at as early a moment as possible. I send with this a note to Sayers, directed to your care, in which I apprise him of Jones’s forfeit. Please preserve the note of Jones to me, and believe me to be yours, ever truly, at command,

“GEO. WILKES, Editor _Wilkes’s Spirit of the Times_.”

This communication was of course made known to Sayers without loss of time, and having now no business on hand, the way was clear for the Benicia Boy, and Tom’s backers being anxious that he should finish his career as quickly as possible, and get into business, at once covered the £50 of Heenan, and signed articles for Tom to fight him on or about the day originally fixed for the fight with Jones, supposing it was the wish of Heenan to step into Jones’s shoes. In this, however, the English managers of the affair had mistaken the meaning of Mr. Wilkes’s letter, for on their writing to him, with details of what had been done, the following reply was forwarded:――

“Office, _Wilkes’s Spirit_, New York, Nov. 23, 1859.

“MY DEAR SIR,――Your letter of 3rd inst., enclosing copy of articles for a fight between Heenan and Sayers, and signed by the latter, for our acceptance, reached me yesterday, and have been communicated to Heenan. We are all, however, taken by surprise at the proposal that the fight should come off in February next, instead of at the expiration of the regular six months, as was stipulated in the original proposition, and I am requested on Heenan’s part to say, that he expects the usual preparatory term will be granted to him. By reference to his cartel you will find he challenged Sayers to fight him near London for £200 and the Champion’s belt, in six months from the date of his (Sayers) reception of that challenge, or the date of the first deposit under it. This challenge having reached England during the pendency of the engagement between Sayers and the Unknown, was kept in abeyance in your hands, and having been further kept back by the next succeeding engagement of Sayers with Jones, was not recognised or _received_ by Sayers until after he had accepted forfeit from Aaron Jones. Being thus left free of all engagements, he responded to the challenge of Heenan, and on the 26th October (I believe) covered the £50 deposit which you had, for months, held in Heenan’s name. The articles for this _new match_, however, were not signed by Sayers until the 3rd Nov. inst., and consequently Heenan claims that he is entitled to six months’ preliminary time from either one or the other of those dates. He, however, desires me to say that if there be anything in the rules of the P. R. Benevolent Association which entitles the Champion to reduce the term for meeting on his acceptance of a regular six months’ challenge, he will conform to those rules, and fight Sayers at the indicated time, even though it will leave him deficient of the due preparation; but he utterly repudiates the idea (which the selection of February by Sayers perhaps infers) that his match with Sayers is a continuation of the match with Jones. With this explanation he desires to state that he will be ready to put up his second deposit of £50 at Owen Swift’s in London, on the 15th December next, and if he be not represented at that time by any agent from this country, he begs you will continue your past kindness and again put up the money for him. Waiving no right, but conceding to all rules, he remains your obedient servant, though very respectfully yours,

“GEORGE WILKES.”

At first it was feared this would occasion a hitch in the match, but it was not the case. Tom was nothing loth to let the affair take its course. He had promised to give Heenan a chance, and would not disappoint him. He proposed, therefore, to extend the time to the end of March, and a missive with this proposition was despatched across the Atlantic, together with a proposition from Tom that the stakes should be £500 a side, or as much more as Heenan could get. Before, however, it could reach its destination, a Mr. Falkland had left that country as the representative and forerunner of Heenan, prepared, immediately on his arrival, to do the needful on his behalf. Early in December, Mr. Falkland presented himself at the stakeholder’s, where he was met by some of the friends of Sayers, but as Tom was not present it was agreed that the evening of December 15, which was set apart for staking a further sum of £50 a side at Owen Swift’s, should be selected for coming to terms. At Owen’s, on the night in question, Tom made his appearance, and quickly fraternising with the ambassador of his foe, found not the slightest difficulty in arranging everything on that satisfactory footing upon which the match afterwards stood. Mr. Falkland had instructions not to make the match for more than £200, as Heenan could lay out the remainder of his money to more advantage in bets, the odds being against him. The following day articles were drawn in the approved form, and information was forthwith despatched to Heenan that his presence in the Old Country was at once required.

In the meantime, on the other side of the Atlantic, things had well nigh tended to prevent the consummation of the wishes of the Fancy. John Heenan and his quondam opponent Morrissey had got to loggerheads, and Heenan proposed to fight Morrissey a second time before fighting Sayers. Through the timely diplomacy of Mr. Wilkes, however, the difficulty was solved, by Morrissey promising to give Heenan another chance, in either England or America, for his own sum, should he prove fortunate enough to defeat our Champion. With this promise the “Boy” was forced to be content, and after innumerable hair-breadth escapes from warrants out against him for an alleged breach of the peace, he succeeded (again thanks to the good management of Mr. Wilkes) in getting on board the “Asia,” which brought him to this country, landing at Liverpool on the 16th of January, 1860.

Thenceforward all went serenely and smoothly; the whole of the deposits were made good, and the 17th of April, 1860, was waited for with feverish expectation.

Though it was made known to those who invested their gold in the ticket for “there and back,” that the start must be made as early as four o’clock, this had no effect in diminishing the number of those who resolved to be “thar,” as our Yankee visitors expressed it.

The scene at Owen Swift’s and Harry Brunton’s, where tickets were obtainable, beggars description, the rush was terrific, and many were entirely unsuccessful in getting tickets at all. Nat Langham’s, Alec Keene’s, and other sporting houses were also crammed, but there was not the same difficulty in carrying on the business of the landlord as at the first houses named, where at one time trade was at a standstill. Many of the frequenters of the sporting hostelries evidently determined to make a night of it in order to make a certainty of being up betimes in the morning, and that they carried their intentions fully into effect was plainly visible in their countenances on their emerging into daylight. The more prudent ring-goers, however, took time by the forelock, and early ensconced themselves in their beds until the summons to be up and doing should arouse them.

The scene at London Bridge Station was one of continual bustle for at least an hour before the time appointed for the start, and, judging from the early arrivals, all seemed impressed with the necessity of taking time by the forelock. The precincts of the station reminded us of the crush on the Derby Day, but the effect was far more striking from the circumstance of its being a “midnight flitting.” The company’s arrangements, however, were such as to meet the pressing requirements, and the travellers by the late trains from the provinces, and those who had postponed the purchase of their tickets until the last moment were enabled to provide themselves with the necessary passport at the last moment. Two monster trains were prepared, and as early as half-past three the first, which consisted of thirty-three carriages, was so full that the non-arrival of the men, both of whom were accommodated at private lodgings close by, alone delayed its departure. The Champion arrived first, and his fresh, brisk, and natty appearance indicated a good night’s rest, and especial pains with his _toilette_. He was soon followed by Heenan, who seemed to wish to avoid recognition, and instantly proceeded to a compartment reserved for him and his seconds. The tickets were then collected, and at twenty minutes past four they started on their journey. By this time night had cast off her sable mantle, and day dawned with that peculiar tint which foretold the brilliant sunny weather with which the expedition was favoured. Throughout the whole of the metropolitan district, which extends for fifteen miles from London, the police, both mounted and on foot, and all armed with cutlasses, were on the look out on each side of the line even at this early hour, but the speed at which the train proceeded at once satisfied those watchful guardians that the mill was never intended to take place within their bailiwick, after leaving which scarcely a soul was to be seen beyond husbandmen proceeding to their daily avocations.

Great preparations were made to “stop the mill” further down, both on the Dover and Brighton lines; but they were unnecessary, as the travellers turned off at Reigate Junction on to the Guildford line, along which the train rattled at a good pace――we may say, “in peaceful serenity”――until within a short distance of the latter old-fashioned country town, where the first stoppage was made for water. In due course the journey was resumed, and in a short time the travellers entered the wild district where the military town of Aldershott is situated, the deserted appearance of which satisfied all that the “pilot” to whom the selection of the _locale_ had been entrusted had made a “happy choice.” It was near seven o’clock when the first train discharged its living burthen at Farnborough station, after a most pleasant journey through one of the prettiest counties in England, which, illumined by a glorious sun, and shooting forth in vernal beauty, must have inspired all with feelings of intense gratification; whilst the Benicia Boy and the numerous Americans present must have been struck with the highly favourable contrast to the miserable pilgrimage which from all accounts preceded their representative’s last appearance in the Ring, when he fought Morrissey in America.

No time was lost in choosing the spot for the ring, which was quickly and well formed by the veteran Tom Oliver and his son, in a meadow adjoining the railway, situate on the borders of Hampshire and Surrey, and within half-a-mile of the Farnborough Station on the South Western line. By this time the second train had reached its destination, and the crowd could not have numbered fewer than twelve hundred persons, both of high and low degree, though compared with former mills the present “congregation” must unhesitatingly be pronounced the most aristocratic ever assembled at the ring side. It included the bearers of names highly distinguished in the pages of Burke and Debrett; officers of the army and navy, members of Parliament, justices of the peace, and even brethren of the cloth; whilst the muster of literati on behalf of the leading metropolitan journals, and the most popular periodicals and miscellanies――to say nothing of the editorial and pictorial staffs of our American contemporaries, _Wilkes’s Spirit of the Times_ and _Frank Leslie’s Illustrated News_――gave quite a new feature to the gathering, and evinced at the same time the overwhelming interest and excitement this national rivalry had created throughout both hemispheres. The sale of inner-ring tickets (raised to 10s. each on this occasion) produced a large revenue to the Pugilistic Benevolent Association, and Billy Duncan’s speculation in chairs must have been a most successful one, judging from the demand for those conveniences, by means of which the spectators were enabled to “see the fight” with comparative comfort.[29]

APPEARANCE OF THE MEN.――All being in readiness, and the immense crowd disposed in tolerable order by the exertions of those of the ring-keepers who chose to do their duty, Tom Sayers appeared at the ring-side, and having deposited his hat within the ropes, quickly followed it himself, attended by his old pal, Harry Brunton, and the accomplished Jemmy Welsh, as seconds. The Benicia Boy was not long in following his example, attended by Jack Macdonald and his trainer, Cusick. Tom looked as dapper and well set up as ever, and was full of smiles. “The Boy” (aged 26), whose attire was not quite so fashionable, was also all on the broad grin. They eyed one another curiously for a few seconds, this being, it must be recollected, their first meeting, and then advancing, shook hands most cordially together, each regarding the other with evident friendly feeling. The warmth of the greeting appeared to give great satisfaction to the surrounding multitude, who cheered vociferously. The men conversed for a few minutes, but of course the subject of their interview did not transpire. Umpires and a referee having now been appointed, the signal was given to prepare for the combat. The first ceremony, that of tying the colours to the stakes, was then proceeded with, and no time was cut to waste in doffing their upper toggery. Each had taken the precaution to put on his boots and drawers previous to entering the ring, so that the usual tedious process of lacing the men’s boots was dispensed with. In Heenan’s case, however, there would have been no necessity for this, as his boots were of fashionable make, with elastic sides. He was the first to appear in buff, and a single glance was sufficient to show that his condition was all that could be desired by the most fastidious. Tom’s mahogany bust was quickly after bared to the gaze of the multitude, and here, too, was evidence of strict attention to his work. They had a last rub from their seconds, and now advanced to give the final friendly shake. This was the time to get a fair idea of their respective proportions, and in size it really looked a horse to a hen. Heenan stood full four inches and a half over Tom, and had an immense advantage in length. Every muscle on his broad back, his shoulders, and arms, was well developed, and gave evidence of enormous power. His legs were rather light, but still there was no lack here of wire and activity. His skin was exceedingly fair and transparent, and shone like that of a thorough-bred. His mug was hard, and looked older than we expected, his cheek-bones being very prominent, and now that they had been denuded of much that was superfluous, his _tout ensemble_ was far more like that of his brother professional than on his first interview with us. Tom looked brown and hard as nails: his well-knit frame seemed fitter that we have seen it for years. He looked visibly older even than when he fought Brettle, but, considering what he has gone through, this is not to be wondered at. The only points in which there appeared any advantage on his side were in his loins and his legs, which were cast in a decidedly stronger mould than those of his towering opponent. The contrast between them was far greater than between Tom and the Tipton Slasher, and taking into consideration the fact that the advantage in age on this occasion was t’other way, Tom’s work seemed indeed cut out. That he had the remotest doubt as to the result we do not for an instant believe. He smiled confidently, and had evidently made up his mind to do or die. Heenan seemed to have an equally decided opinion as to the termination of the battle, and, to use an expression of his own countrymen, he was “all thar.” He won the toss for corners, and, of course, placed himself with his back to the sun; and, in addition to this, he had the advantage of being on slightly rising ground, so that Tom had all the way through to fight up hill. The usual ceremony was now gone through by the seconds and men. Time was called at twenty-nine minutes past seven, and they commenced

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.――Heenan at once threw himself into very fair position, his left well balanced ready for a shoot, and the right across the body. Tom’s position was the same as ever, lightly but firmly planted on his pins. He smiled and nodded, and on Heenan trying to lead off his left got well back. Heenan tried again, his reach being tremendous, but again did Tom get well away. Tom now essayed a draw, but “the Boy” was awake. Each feinted and dodged to find out a weak point, but for a short time each fortress was too well guarded. At last Tom let go his left and right, but out of distance. Heenan shook his nob and grinned, then again tried a lead, but was short. They got gradually to Heenan’s corner, who appeared disposed to fight on the defensive, and the sun being in Tom’s eyes seemed to bother him not a little. At length they came together, and sharp left-handers were exchanged, Tom getting on “the Boy’s” nose, drawing first blood, and Heenan leaving his sign manual on Tom’s frontispiece. Heavy counter-hits followed, Tom again getting on the nose, and receiving on the nob. More sparring ensued to a close, when Heenan seized Tom round the neck, but Tom pegged away at the back of his head until he made him leave that, and Tom fell laughing.

2.――Heenan showed marks of Tom’s handiwork on the back of his neck, and Tom’s forehead was flushed. Heenan kept to his corner, whither Tom went to draw him out; when he thought Tom was near enough, “the Boy” lunged out his left, but Tom stopped him and got back. Heenan tried again, and just reached Tom’s nose. After one or two feints a pretty counter took place, Tom getting on the nose, and receiving a sharp one over the right eye. Heenan then closed, got well hold of him, and threw the Champion, falling heavily on him. Offers to take 2 to 1.

3.――After a little lively fiddling, Tom got too near to the big’un, who instantly slung out his left straight and full on the bridge of Tom’s beak, knocking him clean off his pins. (“First knock-down” for Heenan.)

4.――Tom, on coming up, looked rather astonished, and his eyes blinked in the sun like a dissipated owl. Heenan went at once to him at the scratch, dodged him, and once more planted a heavy spank with his left, this time on the jaw, and down went Tom again, amidst the shouts of the Yankees, who now offered 6 to 4 on Heenan. The Sayers party looked excessively blue.

5.――Tom’s mug showed visible marks of “the Boy’s” powers of hitting. He was cautious, and kept away from his man; Jack followed, and letting go his left on the mouth was well countered by Tom on the proboscis. Heenan now bored in, and after dodging Tom, got again heavily on the sneezer, and Tom fell.

6.――Tom’s countenance, though not swelled, was much flushed, while the Boy was almost scatheless. He was somewhat wild, and tried both hands, but missed. Counter-hits ensued, in which Tom received the full weight of Heenan’s ponderous fist on his right arm, which was driven back against his face. Tom reached Heenan’s left cheek, leaving his mark. Heenan retaliated on the right brow, and Tom fell.

7.――Tom’s right peeper displayed marks of pepper, and it was perceptible that he had sustained severe injury to his right arm, which was beginning to swell, and which he now kept close to his body, as if to support it. Still he went to Heenan in his corner, and that hero delivered his left, but not effectively, on the chest. Tom danced away, and as he turned round napped a little one from the right on his back. He was quickly out of harm’s way, and, coming again, dodged his man until he let fly, when Tom countered him heavily on the right cheek, drawing the claret and raising a considerable bump. The blow staggered Heenan, who stood all of a heap for a moment. Soon did he collect himself, and as Tom came again, lodged a little one on the nose, but was once more countered very heavily on the right cheek, the cut being increased and the bump enlarged. Slight exchanges followed, in which Tom received on the right eye and Heenan on the right cheek, whereupon Heenan went to his corner for a sponge. He seemed in no hurry to come away, and Tom stood in the middle of the ring until Heenan went slowly to him, and tried his left, but it was no go. He tried again, but only just reached Tom’s brow. Tom now feinted and got home on the right peeper, Heenan missing an upper-cut. Tom danced away, came again on another tack, and bang went his left on the sore spot, a heavy spank, and he was instantly out of danger, laughing; Heenan rushed after him, but was well stopped, thrice in succession. Again and again Tom went to him, and baulked his efforts to effect a lodgment, and then Heenan napped another slashing crack on the right cheek, which had the effect of at once closing his dexter goggle. He retreated for a wipe, and was followed by Tom, and some mutual cautious dodging and feinting took place. At last Heenan got on the top of Tom’s smeller, but not heavily, and Tom then avoided another attempt. Once more did Heenan retire to Jack Macdonald for consolation and advice; Tom walking round and eying him in an inquisitive manner, as if admiring his handiwork. Tom, after satisfying his curiosity, went close, and slight exchanges followed, without mischief. Heenan tried his left and was stopped. Both very cautious, and neither disposed to go within gunshot. Heenan now led off and got slightly on the mouth with his left, Tom retaliating on the closed peeper. Mutual taps and stops, and then Tom got his left heavily on the old spot another cracker, whereupon Heenan once more retired into the privacy of his corner, amidst cries of 2 to 1 on Sayers. Tom, after a few turns and a touch of the sponge, went to him, but Heenan shook his nob and seemed disinclined for work. Tom finding he could not draw him, retreated, whereupon “the Boy” came out, and let go his left viciously, which was beautifully stopped. He then feinted, and got well on the bridge of Tom’s snorer as he was retreating, and again knocked him off his pins. Tom rolled over, laughing, and was carried to his corner. This round lasted 13 minutes, and was a fine specimen of stratagem and skill, especially on the part of Tom. His right arm now was much swollen, and so painful that he could make little or no use of it.

8.――Tom slowest to the call of time, but directly he was at the scratch “the Boy” retired to his corner, whither Tom had to follow him. Heenan at once let go his left, but Tom laughed and jumped back. A slight exchange followed, and Tom napped a straight one on the sniffer. Heenan now missed a couple of well-meant shots, and Tom jumped away from a third, and as he turned his back upon Heenan got a right-hander on the back of the neck. Heenan followed him up, but Tom grinned and jumped nimbly away. His activity on his pins was as remarkable as ever. Heenan pursued him, and at last lodged his left slightly on the nozzle, and once more turned on the tap. Tom, however, countered him on the damaged cheek, which caused “the Boy” to retire for the kind offices of Jack Macdonald. On Tom’s going to him he let go his left on the kisser, drawing the carmine, and this led to pretty exchanges at long shots on the cheek. Heenan at this time appeared weak, and the hopes of the Sayers party were greatly in the ascendant. Heenan preferred his corner to the scratch, and Tom had some difficulty in persuading him to leave. This he at last accomplished, and some beautiful stops were made on both sides. Another break away ensued, after which they countered effectively, but Tom was heaviest on the right cheek, which was now swelled as big as two. Heenan’s blow alighted on Tom’s oration trap, and drew more of the ruby. On his trying to repeat this lodgment, Tom stopped him cleverly. Capital exchanges followed, in which Tom was again at home on the cheek very heavily. Heenan rushed at him, but Tom was away, and after once or twice being baulked Heenan again retired to his corner. After Tom had scrutinized him carefully, he rubbed his hands and went to him, whereupon Heenan let fly his left, but Tom got well away laughing; Heenan shook his head and also laughed good-humouredly. Tom now crept in, and pop went his left on the plague-spot, and off went the Champion laughing. More dodging and stopping on both sides, until Tom was once more on the cheek a slogger. Heenan retaliated sharply on the bridge of the snout, but was stopped in a second attempt, and Tom nailed him on the right cheek very heavily and got away. Heenan tried to take the lead, but Tom jumped back. “The Boy,” persevering, got well on the forehead, but was unsuccessful in a second essay. The first was sufficient to leave a bump on the gallant Tom. More sparring until a severe counter-exchange took place, in which Tom got a hot’un on the whistler, which shook his ivories, and turned on a fresh tap. It was a staggerer, but Tom recovered and went to his man, when more severe counters were interchanged, Heenan getting another rum one on the cheek, and dropping his left with effect on Tom’s sneezer. Both now indulged in a wipe, and washed their mouths out. They came again, now like giants refreshed, and each in turn tried a lead, but each was well stopped. Tom’s right arm, from the continual stopping such a heavy cannonade as Heenan’s, was now much discoloured and swollen, and utterly useless for all purposes of hitting, and he was thus deprived of his principal weapon. After a good deal of this another heavy exchange followed, in which Tom was at home on the old spot, and Heenan on the jaw heavily, knocking Tom once more off his pins. This round lasted 20 minutes, and was a splendid specimen of milling on both sides. Tom’s nose and mouth were bleeding, but both his eyes were well open. His arm was his chief drawback. Heenan’s right eye had been long closed, his cheek was fearfully swollen, and his mouth was also somewhat out of straight.

9.――Heenan came up as if he intended to force the fighting. He led off viciously, but Tom got well away. “The Boy” followed him closely, and at last got on Tom’s mouth, drawing more of the juice. He followed suit on the snuffer-tray with a like result, and counter-hits ensued, in which each did mischief. Heenan continued to bore in, and at last Tom, after getting a little one on the back, dropped laughing.

10.――Tom was very slow to the call of time, and appeared to want nursing. It was evidently heavy work struggling against such superior mettle. He stood in the middle of the ring until Heenan went to him, when slight counter-hits were exchanged; after which they closed. Heenan lifted Tom from the ground and threw him heavily with the greatest ease.

11.――Tom, again very much behindhand in coming to time, and the friends of Heenan did not appear in much hurry. When they did come up Tom had to go into Heenan’s corner. After a dodge or two Tom got his right on the good eye rather heavily, but it was not such a right-hander as of yore, and evidently gave him pain. Heenan returned on the chest, and Tom fell.

12.――“Time, Time!” neither too ready. On Sayers at last facing his man, Heenan caught him, but not very heavily, on the jaw, and dropped on the saving suit.

13.――Heenan, first to leave his second’s knee, now went to Tom, and after a dodge or two popped the left very straight on Tom’s nose, once more knocking him clean off his legs. He turned round on returning to his corner, and looking to Mr. Falkland, his umpire, exclaimed, “That’s one for you, Fred!” Offers were now made to lay 5 to 4 on Heenan, but the takers seemed scarce.

14.――Tom, very weak, came up cautiously and slowly, his nose being large enough for two. Heenan, seeing Tom’s state, tried to force the fighting, but Tom got cleverly out of the difficulty. Heenan followed him up, and popped a rattler on the throat, without a return. He paused, and then sent a little one on the scent-bottle, but Tom countered him well and straight on the nose, drawing the crimson in profusion. Heenan, nothing daunted, let go his left, and was stopped. He then swung round his right heavily on the jaw. They got to close quarters and some heavy in-fighting took place, in which Tom was very busy. At length both were down heavily, Heenan under.

15.――Neither seemed in a hurry to leave his second’s knee, but Tom was slowest in answering the call. Heenan at once went to him, got the left well on the proboscis and his right on the jaw, and down again fell the Champion in a heap.

16.――Tom shook himself together, but was very cautious. He sparred as if requiring rest, until Heenan came in, when slight exchanges took place, Tom getting it on the nose, and Heenan on the whistler, but neither very heavily. Heenan then made a sudden dart, and planting heavily on Tom’s mouth, once more knocked him off his legs. (Loud cheers for Heenan.)

17.――Tom did not display many marks from his repeated knock-down blows, but came up smiling, although somewhat tired. Heenan’s mug was decidedly the most disfigured, being so much swelled. Heenan took the lead, but did not get heavily on. He tried again with his right, but the blow passed over Tom’s nob. Counter hits followed on the nose, in which Tom’s delivery was most effective, but Tom was down.

18.――Very slight exchanges, followed by a heavy counter, in which Heenan’s mouth came in for pepper, and Tom got it slightly on the nose, and fell.

19.――Tom slow to time; Heenan not in a hurry. At last, on facing one another, Heenan went in to a close, and, throwing Tom, fell on him.

20.――Heenan followed Sayers, who was on the retreat, and after one or two dodges, caught him on the jaw heavily with his right. He tried again, but Tom jumped back. Still he persevered, and heavy exchanges followed at close quarters, and both were in the end down at the ropes.

21.――Sayers very slow, which Heenan seeing, dashed at him, slung out the left on the nose, and again floored the Champion.

22.――Tom seemed none the worse for this floorer; it rather seemed to do him good, for he came fresher, which Heenan seeing, he retired to his corner. Tom followed and tried to deliver, but missed, and the Benicia Boy dropped him with another straight one on the jaw. Heenan’s left hand was now much puffed, and did not seem to leave such impressions as formerly.

23.――The time was very badly kept on both sides, and there were now complaints that the Benicia Boy was allowed a stool in the ring. An appeal was made to the referee, who at once ordered its removal, as contrary to the laws. Heenan rushed at Tom, who retreated and got one on the back. Tom then turned round and missed his right. They closed, and Tom pegged away merrily on the nose and left cheek, and in the end both down, Tom under. One hour and eleven minutes had now elapsed.

24.――The Benicia Boy, first up, tried his left by a sudden dart, but was stopped. An attempt with the right just landed on the side of Tom’s nut, and he fell. (5 to 4 on Heenan still offered.)

25.――Tom, weak, came up slow, but cheerful. He waited the attack, which was not long in coming, and after getting a little one on the side of his head, Tom popped his left very heavily on the snout, drawing more home-brewed. Heenan, wild, rushed in and bored Tom down.

26.――Tom, fresher, came up gaily, and tried to lead off with his left, but the Boy stopped him prettily. Another effort landed on Heenan’s good eye. Heenan in return planted a rattler on Tom’s jaw with his right, which staggered him, and was all but a knock down. Tom soon shook himself together, whereupon Heenan let fly his left, but Tom was well away. Following up, “the Boy” got on Tom’s chest, but not heavily. Exchanges; Heenan on the ’tato-trap, and Tom on the nose, a smasher, each drawing the cork. Heavy counters followed with the left, and they broke away. Heenan came again, and got on Tom’s snorer heavily with his left, once more staggering him. Twice after this did Tom stop Heenan’s right and they closed. After some slight fibbing Tom fell, Heenan hitting him when down. An appeal of foul was overruled, the blow being obviously accidental.

27.――“The Boy” came up determined and led off, but Tom was away. A second attempt was equally unsuccessful, and as Tom turned his back to dash away, the Boy caught him on the neck, but not heavily. Sharp exchanges followed, Tom on the left cheek and nose, and “the Boy” on the mouth. Heenan then went in and tried his left, but was short, whereupon he retired to his corner, had a wipe, and wetted his whistle, and then went to the middle of the ring. Tom joined issue at once, and some heavy exchanges took place, each on the nose, and Heenan now tried to close, reaching after Tom to catch him round the neck. Tom kept out of harm’s way, but at length “the Boy” bored him down at the ropes.

28.――Both much fatigued, wanted all the time they could get. After some sparring, Heenan ran at Tom, who darted away. The Boy rapidly pursued, and they got together, and in the fibbing Tom was busy on Heenan’s good cheek, while he caught it on the mouth. In the end Tom was down.

29.――Tom still slow to time. The Boy at once went to him, and got heavily on the top of his nut. Tom countered with effect with his right on the left cheek, and then popped his left on the proboscis. Heavy exchanges followed in Tom’s favour, who met “the Boy” very straight and effectively on the nozzle, opening a fresh bin. A break away, followed by slight exchanges, led to a harmless close, and Tom slipped down.

30.――Heenan’s other eye was now quickly closing, and he had evidently no time to lose. He was strongest on his legs, but his punishment was far more visible than Tom’s. He tried to lead off, but Tom met him neatly on the nose, turning on the red port. “The Boy” rushed at Tom, and literally ran over and fell on him.

31.――After standing some time in his corner, Heenan was fetched out by Tom, who had now recovered a little. A short spar was followed by another retreat, after which Tom went in and got a little ’un on the left cheek, but it lacked steam. More sparring, and Heenan again retired. Tom stood and examined him with the eye of a connoisseur until he came out, when good exchanges took place, Tom getting heavily on the mouth, and Heenan on the nose. A break away; more sparring for wind; Heenan again to his corner. On Tom going at him he slung out his left heavily on the nose, and prone once more fell the brave Champion.

32.――Tom all alive, dodged, and caught “the Boy” on the chin. He turned to retreat, and “the Boy” nailed him on the body, but not heavily. Heenan then tried repeatedly to draw Tom, but the latter would not go into Heenan’s corner. “The Boy,” therefore, had to go out, and some rapid hits and stops followed, without any apparent damage; each, however, got a small tap on the mouth. Heenan having taken another rest in his corner, came out, and got a hot one on the left cheek for his pains, which all but shut up the other eye. This brought on exchanges, each on the mazzard, and then Heenan reached Tom’s nose. Heavy determined counter-deliveries on the note ensued, after which Heenan floored Tom by a right-hander on the cheek. The betting was now even, Sayers for choice. It was obvious that, strong as Heenan was, unless he could make a decided change, he must in a very few minutes be blind.

33.――The Benicia Boy, feeling he had no time to lose, rushed in, but only just reached Tom’s chest. Both seemed fagged, and they stood a few seconds, and then went to close quarters, where Tom, as usual, was busy on “the Boy’s” frontispiece, until he let him slip through his arms on to the ground.

34.――Heenan again tried to force the fighting, but Tom got away. They then stood and sparred until Heenan let fly his left, which did not reach its destination. He retired for counsel, and then came at Tom and tried his right at the body, but without success. Steady exchanges led to close and rapid in-fighting, and both fell, Tom under. Heenan’s eye all but closed up.

35.――The Benicia Boy dashed viciously in, and caught Tom on the snout, but the blow was without powder. Tom retreated from the vigorous onslaught; Heenan followed and got home on the jaw with the right, still with no effect. Tom now turned and ran, Heenan after him, when, on turning round, Tom napped one on the nose. He, however, landed another little pop on the good eye. Sharp exchanges at close quarters ended in the downfall of Tom. Two hours had now elapsed.

36.――The Benicia Boy’s face was a spectacle to behold, while Tom was very weak. The Boy rushed to a close, and caught Tom round the neck, dragging him to the ropes. At this time, the police, who had been gradually making their way to the ring, began a violent struggle to get close and put a stop to hostilities. “The Boy” tried to hold Tom, but the latter slipped through his arms and fell.

37.――Tom was first up, and seemed the better man; he made his left twice on Heenan’s eye, and the latter at length caught him round the neck at the ropes and there held him. Tom’s efforts to extricate himself were vain, but he administered severe punishment to Heenan’s face. The police at this time got closer, there was a rush to the ropes from all sides, and we, in company with others, including the referee, were completely shut out from the view. We are informed that the round ended in both going to grass at the expiration of _two hours and six minutes_. We had hoped that the men would now have been withdrawn, as the referee had been forced from his post, and the police were close by. The battle, so far as it may be called a battle, was for the time over, and the men should have been taken away. However, although the referee sent orders for a cessation of hostilities, five more so-called rounds were fought, with pretty equal advantage. Heenan’s right eye was fast closing, his left being in complete darkness. The ring was half full of people, however, and neither man had a fair chance. Much do we regret the unpleasant duty that now is imposed upon us, of finding fault with the Benicia Boy for conduct which was not only unmanly, but quite against the rules of the Ring, and had the Referee been present, would inevitably have lost him the battle. We can ourselves declare, as an impartial eye witness of the mêlée, that in the fourth of these supplementary rounds, while Sayers was on his second’s knee, Heenan rushed at him in a very excited state, let fly left and right at Tom’s seconds, floored them, and kicked at them when on the ground in desperate style, after which he closed with Sayers, and after a wild rally, they fell together. The final round was merely a wild scramble, in which both fell. The referee by this time was able to get near again, and ordered the men to desist from fighting. Immediately after this Heenan rushed away from the ring, and ran some distance with the activity of a deer, proving that as far as strength was concerned, he was as fit as ever; but he had not been away from the ring many minutes before he was totally blind. Tom Sayers, although a little tired, and suffering from his arm and the desperate hug in the 37th round, was also strong on his pins, and could have fought some time longer. The blues being now in force, there was, of course, no chance of the men again meeting, and an adjournment was necessary. It was found that the authorities were up in arms in all directions, so that it would be mere waste of time to go elsewhere. Backward home was therefore the word, and the men and their friends returned to the Metropolis shortly after three o’clock. The whole time occupied, up to the men’s leaving the ring, was two hours and twenty minutes.

REMARKS.――Up to the unfortunate departure of the referee, this was decidedly the very best Championship fight we ever witnessed. It was to the time aforesaid fought out with a manliness, a fairness, and a determination on both sides worthy of the highest commendation. Without any attempt at shifting, each scorned to take a mean advantage, and loudly and repeatedly was each of them cheered. The game displayed on both sides was remarkable. The gluttony and bottom of Tom Sayers are too proverbial to need further comment at our hand; but as certain rumours had been flying about to the effect that Heenan was destitute of those qualities, we deem it right to express our belief that a gamer, more determined fellow, never pulled off a shirt. His punishment was terrible, and yet he took it round after round without flinching, and almost invariably with a smile on his face. We are bound to own that in this, as in his talent, he very agreeably disappointed us; and had we not known his career, we certainly should never have set him down for a novice. He has an excellent delivery with his left, which was as straight as a dart, and early in the fight was very heavy. It appears to us, however, that his hands are not strong, for before half the battle was got through his left hand was so much swelled as to be almost useless; and this, doubtless, was fortunate for Tom, who with his right arm gone, could have made but a poor stand against such a weapon had it retained its original hardness. Of his right Heenan makes but little use. Of his conduct at the conclusion of the battle we cannot speak in too strong terms. We trust it was occasioned by the state of excitement in which he was owing to the ring being broken, and by the fact that, being almost blind, he took the unoffending seconds of his opponent for some other persons. The state of Heenan’s eyesight was shown by the fact that he hit out with both hands at Jemmy Welsh, who wore a red and black striped woollen shirt, mistaking him for his antagonist. Of Tom Sayers we need not say more than that he fought the battle throughout with consummate tact and judgment, and, considering that his right arm (his principal weapon) was rendered almost useless from the commencement, too much praise cannot be awarded to him for his courage and coolness. We are of opinion, even without that arm, that he would eventually have pulled through, had the fight been finished on the day. But it is useless speculating on possibilities or probabilities. On the question of nationality, the only point that has been decided, and the only point in our opinion requiring decision, is that both England and America possess brave sons, and each country had reason to be proud of the Champion she had selected. Both were, doubtless, anxious to have it settled; but for ourselves, were we asked, we should say each is so good that he is deserving a belt, and we would call on our countrymen to subscribe for such a trophy as a reward for Heenan’s enterprise and boldness in coming, as he has done, to face the British Champion on his own ground.

The writer of these lines, having been one of the less than half-dozen sporting writers and reporters who remained among the driving crowd which swayed hither and thither in the broken ring after the departure of the referee, and as several of these, notably _The Times_ reporter, wrote their published accounts from hearsay, feels himself freely entitled to express his unbiassed opinion on the probable result of the battle, and to describe “the occurrents of the fight,” in its last struggles, from the avouchment of his own eyesight.

The fight, which began at twenty-four minutes past seven, was over at a quarter to ten, lasting two hours and twenty minutes.

When the ring was broken in, in the thirty-seventh round, and the referee shut out from view, Heenan, who was fast becoming blind, hugged Sayers on the ropes. The ropes were lowered by Tom’s friends, doubtless, but were not cut. Had the referee been there, he would unquestionably have ordered the round to have been closed. Rule 28 of the Ring Code was as follows, _before_ the Farnborough fight. It has since been enlarged in its scope to prevent similar dangerous practices more effectually:――“28. Where a man shall have his antagonist across the ropes in such a position as to be helpless, and to endanger his life by strangulation or apoplexy, it shall be in the power of the referee to direct the seconds to take their man away, and thus conclude the round; and that the man or his seconds refusing to obey the direction of the referee shall be deemed the loser.” Of this the Yankee scribes chose to be utterly oblivious, though the articles specified the battle to be under the New Rules of the Ring――_i.e._, those of 1853. The referee, however, so say the American party, sent an order for the cessation of hostilities. This, though since confirmed, was not believed by Sayers’ friends, who, seeing victory within his grasp, thought it a mere _ruse_ to obtain a drawn battle.

Five rounds were thereafter fought, Heenan’s sight being so defective that, in the fourth of these, the forty-first, Heenan rushed from his corner while Sayers was on his second’s knee, and, letting fly at Jemmy Welsh, knocked him nearly over, and kicked at Harry Brunton, if he did not strike him, of which we are not certain. He then hugged Sayers, and they both fell; Tom hitting up sharply in Heenan’s battered frontispiece. A cry was raised that the referee had declared the fight over, whereon Heenan rushed from the ring with great activity, followed by his clamorous friends. We stayed, and found Sayers strong, with his sight good, and in all respects but his injured dexter arm――of little use since the fourth round――able, as he said, “to fight an hour.”

Leaving Tom, we hurried to the carriages, the train standing on the Farnborough embankment, where we saw Heenan, already blind as a bat, lifted into his compartment. Arrived at the Bricklayers’ Arm Station, we accompanied the gallant Champion to the hostelrie of his old friend, Ned Elgee, “The Swan,” Old Kent Road. Here no sooner was the hero seated, for he refused to go to bed, than he inquired after his opponent. His friend and backer (Mr. John Gideon) suggested that the heroes should meet and shake hands, and the writer of this hastened across the road to invite the Benicia Boy and his friends to an interview. He was in a close cab wrapped in blankets――blind, unpresentable, and seemingly unconscious. Tom was soon cheerful, and over a little tea regretted that the doctor’s veto prevented his partaking of the champagne creaming around him to his health and success, amid plaudits to his bravery.

Sayers was next morning at Norfolk Street, at the stakeholder and referee’s office, and a photograph has fixed beyond dispute his condition, which, save his right arm already spoken of, was nothing beyond a tumefied mouth and a few bumps on his hard forehead. Heenan, on the contrary, despite the absurd declarations of his American letter-writer, was not in a condition to see or be seen. For fully forty-eight hours he was in “darkness,” in bed in an upper-room at Osborne’s Hotel in the Adelphi, and for more than that time in a critical condition, as we know from unimpugnable proof. The friends of Heenan pretended to base their great grievance on the fact that, as the contest was not finished on the day, it ought to have been resumed during the week. The answer to this is, first, that this was mere bounce, as Heenan was in no condition to resume hostilities; secondly, that in the condition of Sayers’s right arm he was entitled, by Ring precedents (the fight having been once interrupted) to a reasonable period to recover its use; thirdly, that it would have been contrary to all dictates of humanity――and fairness, which includes humanity, is a prized attribute of British boxing; fourthly, that public opinion was opposed in the strongest manner to the two brave fellows who had so heroically contended, and had been baulked of a result by no fault or shortcoming of either, after such punishment as they had undergone, renewing their interrupted struggle. For these and other cogent reasons, it was proposed by the referee and stakeholder, and――after the subsidence of the American mortification to a better state of feeling――agreed to by both men, that two similar belts should be made, one to be presented to each champion.

We shall not record the ceremonial of this presentation――which was performed on the part of England by Frank Dowling, Esq., editor of _Bell’s Life_, and on that of America by G. Wilkes, Esq., editor of the _New York Spirit of the Times_――as the whole affair, speeches and all, savour too strongly of the circus style of bunkum and bombast. The modest paragraph in the _Times_ of May 30th, 1860, though written as an _avant courrier_, is more to our taste:――

“THE CHAMPIONSHIP BELTS.――America and England shake hands cordially to-day. What our greatest diplomatists and engineers have failed to achieve has been accomplished by the Benicia Boy and Tom Sayers, whose fame will descend to future generations, and whose posterity will each be enabled to show a _fac-simile_ of that much desired ‘belt,’ so boldly challenged, so manfully defended. The Atlantic cable has not linked the two nations together, but the good feeling which has been shown by the two gladiators, who on this day receive at the Alhambra their respective ‘belts,’ will be responded to by the two nations on either side of the Atlantic. We have been favoured with a view of the old belt, ‘the belt’ still open to competition, and of the two other belts to be presented to the ‘two Champions of England,’ for such is the inscription upon the case of each. Both are precisely similar in every respect, and the somewhat clumsy workmanship, in frosted silver, carefully copied from the original, is by Mr. C. F. Hancock, of Bruton Street.”

How British admiration of true courage expressed itself in the substantial form of a public subscription, and how Members of Parliament, the Stock Exchange, Lloyd’s, and Mark Lane, clubbed their gold pieces to enable the Champion to pass in peace and competence the remainder of his days, guarded from the stings and sorrows of poverty, have been told in the columns of the contemporary sporting press.

After Mace’s victories over Sam Hurst and Tom King, there was some talk of Sayers coming out from his retirement and having a turn with the Norwich man, but it ended in smoke. As Tom, from the universal interest excited by his heroic display, was an object of interest to the multitude, he received liberal offers from some Yankee circus proprietors, and by the aid of the “rhino” thus earned became first a shareholder, and then proprietor of Howes and Cushing’s Circus, under the management of Jem Myers. The speculation, we suspect, carried Tom out of his depth, and the horses, mules, carriages, &c., were sold off some twelve months after their purchase. Tom’s free living degenerated into excess during this loose and excited life of a travelling showman and exhibitor; for poor Tom, in his simple faith, was by no means an Artemus Ward, and no match for Yankee smartness. There is little doubt that Tom at this time laid the seeds of the inflammatory disease which shortened his days, and cut him off at the early age of thirty-nine.

The kind friends who uncompromisingly stipulated, when Tom’s capital was invested, that he should “fight no more,” did not place any restriction on his re-appearance in the roped arena. When King and Heenan fought, on December 10, 1863, Sayers conformed to the etiquette of his profession, and seconded “the American.” Heenan’s party evidently believed that Tom’s _prestige_ would scatter dismay in the ranks of King’s followers, and help to overwhelm the “jolly young waterman” at the outset. Poor Sayers’ descent had, however, commenced, and when he stepped into the ring, in Heenan’s corner, it was plain he was there more for dramatic effect than anything else. Attired in a fur cap, a yellow flannel jacket, and jack-boots, he was vociferously applauded when he commenced his duties in attending to Heenan’s toilette. Even then people said, “How are the mighty fallen,” for poor Tom was no more equal to his onerous task than a child. During the fight at Wadhurst he looked in strange bewilderment at King and Heenan, and when the “Benicia Boy” required assistance, his second was perfectly helpless. Still the gladiator quitted the scene in a graceful and generous manner, in having stood esquire to the opponent who was instrumental in bringing out that steel, courage, and pluck of which the first of English pugilists was composed.

As it no doubt will prove interesting to all those who have admired the wonderful pluck and endurance of the greatest gladiator of modern times to know something of the progress of that insidious disease which gradually but surely did its work, we append a few particulars. Since the memorable battle of Farnborough――when Sayers appeared in the ring the picture of health, and the result proved that his _physique_ could not have been improved upon――he now and again showed symptoms of the hectic flush which is the precursor of an affection of the lungs. This was brought on by the course of life he subsequently chose, or rather by the force of circumstances under which he was placed. Unable to fall back upon the pleasures of a cultivated mind from want of education, Tom became the idol of his fellows; he cast off all those restraints which had secured for him health and victory, and plunged into excesses of living――late hours and dissipation. Nature’s laws are not to be broken with impunity, and in the beginning of 1866 he fell into a very low condition, and betrayed symptoms of consumption, aggravated with diabetes, for which Mr. Adams, F.R.C.S., attended him on February 20, at his sister’s, Mrs. King’s, 16, Claremont Square, Pentonville. His robust and healthy frame exhibited a great change for the worse, and the doctor then feared, from his having wasted away so much, coughing frequently, and losing strength fast, that he was sinking into a decline. He was ready to acknowledge his physical weakness, but when told of the serious nature of the disease then apprehended, he became as docile as a child, and obeyed the injunctions of his medical adviser, who, we may remark in passing, expressed to us the melancholy pleasure which he experienced whilst Tom was under his care. However, the dreaded enemy was stalled-off by careful watching and nursing, and he recovered sufficiently to take a trip to Brighton about the middle of April. When there, he appeared strong and robust, and like his former self. This, however, was not to last long, for at the end of August he returned to his sister’s, in Claremont Square, and in a consultation held there between Dr. Adams and Mr. Brown, they came to the conclusion that actual and absolute disease of the lungs had set in, and that he could not survive many weeks. He took a fancy to go to his old friend’s, Mr. Mensley, High Street, Camden Town, on October 16, and there he stayed until he died. For the satisfaction of Dr. Adams himself, that gentleman called in Dr. Gull to consult, but they both agreed that nothing more could be done to save him. A reaction took place in his condition after being a fortnight at Mr. Mensley’s; he seemed to get fresher and stronger, and for a week remained in a doubtful state, giving hopes to his friends that he would survive the illness. A relapse came on, and with it unconsciousness, and for the last few days he had only a few intervals of consciousness. Mr. Litten, assistant chaplain of St. Pancras, attended by desire of Sayers, and administered the consolations of religion. He passed away at six o’clock on Wednesday evening, November 7th, in the presence of his father, with his two children at hand. For upwards of four-and-twenty hours before his death he was in a state of semi-insensibility, and could only recognise his friends on being aroused and appealed to. But the great change came with comparative peace at last, and when nature compelled him to “throw up the sponge,” he left the world, let us hope, without that pain which no man feared less when he stood up in defence of his reputation as the Emperor of British boxers. Many were the inquiries made for the health of poor Tom, and it is satisfactory to know that he was visited by some who had taken a part against him in the battle-field, and that he bid them, each and all, a peaceful farewell.

The amount of money subscribed for Sayers by his personal admirers and the public was £3,000, which sum was invested in the names of trustees, Tom to receive the interest during his life, providing he never fought again; and, in the event of his fighting again or dying, the interest was to go to the children until of age, when it was to be divided between them. Tom left only two children――young Tom, then at boarding-school, and fourteen years old, and Sarah, in her seventeenth year. Independent of the interest in this sum, Sayers left a considerable amount of property in plate and other valuables. Some of his backers have treasured up _souvenirs_ of him. Mr. John Gideon, Tom’s earliest “guide, philosopher, and friend,” has the boots in which Sayers fought Heenan, with the Farnborough grass and earth attaching to the spikes, just as the great gladiator left them.

Those who remember the personal appearance of the departed Champion will have his bronzed, square, and good-humoured, lion-like phiz in their mind’s eye; those who did not see him in the flesh must imagine a round, broad, but not particularly thick-set man, standing 5 feet 8½ inches in his stocking-feet, with finely turned hips, and small but powerful and flat loins, remarkably round ribs and girth, and square shoulders. His arms were of medium length, and so round as not to show prominently the biceps, or even the outer muscles of the fore-arm, to the extent often seen in men of far inferior powers of hitting and general strength. Indeed, the bulk of Sayers was so compactly packed that you did not realise his true size and weight at a cursory glance, and it was this close and neat packing of his trunk――excuse the pun――that doubtless was an important ingredient in many a “long day” in which Tom’s lasting powers were the admiration of every spectator. Tom’s head was certainly of the “bullet” shape, and it was supported by a neck of the sort known as “bull,” conveying the idea of enduring strength and determination to back it. We have no phrenological examination of Tom’s “bumps” before us, but we doubt not those of combativeness and amativeness were fully developed. Tom’s fighting weight began at 10st. 6lb.; in his later battles it was 10st. 10lb. to 10st. 12lb. The photographs which figure in the print-shop windows do not convey a fair idea of Tom’s good-tempered and often merry expression: he seems to have been taken when filled with the contemplation of the seriousness of the position of having one’s “counterfeit presentment” multiplied and sent forth to the world. From the hips downward Tom was not a “model man.” Though round in the calf, his thighs were decidedly deficient in muscular development; yet no man made better use of his pins in getting in and out again, as witness his _up_-hill performances with the six-foot Slasher, and the ponderous and more active Benicia Boy. It was to Tom’s excellent judgment of time and distance that the severity of his hitting was due, and to his mighty heart――a bigger never found place in man’s bosom――that his triumphant finish of many a well-fought day is to be attributed. No man ever fought more faithfully to his friends or bravely with his foes in “the battle of life;” and therefore is the tribute of a record of his deeds due to TOM SAYERS.

His remains were consigned to their parent earth, on Wednesday, November 15th, 1866, at the Highgate Cemetery, attended by an immense concourse of the sympathising and curious. A committee of friends, the admirers of true British courage, raised a monument over the spot where――

“After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well.”

Of this monument we present a faithful delineation.

It would be an unpardonable omission were we to conclude the biography of Tom Sayers without appending the remarkable poem, attributed to the pen of William Makepeace Thackeray, which appeared in _Punch_, April 28th, 1860. We need hardly say that it is a paraphrase rather than a parody of Lord Macaulay’s legend of “Horatius” in the “Lays of Ancient Rome.”

THE COMBAT OF SAYERIUS AND HEENANUS.

A LAY OF ANCIENT LONDON.

(Supposed to be recounted to his Great-grandchildren, April 17th, A.D. 1920, by an Ancient Gladiator.)

Close round my chair, my children, And gather at my knee, The while your mother poureth The Old Tom in my tea; What while your father quaffeth His meagre Bordeaux wine―― ’Twas not on such potations Were reared these thews o’ mine. Such drinks came in the very year―― Methinks I mind it well―― That the great fight of HEENANUS With SAYERIUS befell.[30]

These knuckles then were iron, This biceps like a cord, This fist shot from the shoulder A bullock would have floored. CRAWLEIUS his Novice, They used to call me then In the Domus Savilliana[31] Among the sporting men. There, on benefit occasions, The gloves I oft put on, Walking round to show my muscle When the set-to was done; While ringing in the arena The showered denarii fell, That told CRAWLEIUS’ Novice Had used his mauleys well.

’Tis but some sixty years since The times of which I speak, And yet the words I’m using Will sound to you like Greek. What know ye, race of milksops, Untaught of the P.R., What stopping, lunging, countering, Fibbing, or rallying are? What boots to use the _lingo_, When you have lost the _thing_? How paint to you the glories Of BELCHER, CRIBB, or SPRING―― To _you_, whose sire turns up his eyes At mention of the Ring?

Yet, in despite of all the jaw And gammon of this time, That brands the art of self-defence―― Old England’s art――as crime, From off mine ancient memories The rust of time I’ll shake. Your youthful bloods to quicken And your British pluck to wake; I know it only slumbers, Let cant do what it will, The British bull-dog _will_ be The British bull-dog still. Then gather to your grandsire’s knee, The while his tale is told How SAYERIUS and HEENANUS Milled in those days of old.

Y FYGHTE.

The Beaks and Blues were watching Agog to atop the mill, As we gathered to the station In the April morning chill; By twos and threes, by fours and tens, To London Bridge we drew; For we had had “the office” That were good men and true; And saving such, the place of fight Was ne’er a man that knew. From East, from West, from North and South, The London Fancy poured, Down to the sporting cabman, Up to the sporting lord; From the “Horseshoe” in Tichbourne Street Sharp OWEN SWIFT was there; JEM BURN had left the “Rising Sun,” All in the Street of Air; LANGHAM had out the “Cambrian,” With tough old ALEC REID, And towering high above the crowd Shone BEN CAUNT’S fragrant weed; Not only fighting covies, But sporting swells besides―― Dukes, Lords, M.P’s., and Guardsmen, With county Beaks for guides; And tongues that sway our Senators, And hands the pen that wield, Were cheering on the Champions Upon that morning’s field.

And hark! the bell is ringing, The engine puffs amain, And through the dark towards Brighton On shrieks the tearing train; But turning off where Reigate Unites the clustering lines, By poultry-haunted Dorking A devious course it twines, By Wootton, Shier, and Guildford, Across the winding Wey, Till by heath-girded Farnborough Our doubling course we stay, Where Aldershot lay snoring All in the morning gray, Nor dreamed “the Camp” what combat Should be fought here to-day.

The stakes are pitched, the ropes are rove, The men have ta’en their stand; HEENANUS wins the toss for place, And takes the eastward hand; CUSSICCIUS and MACDONALDUS[32] Upon “the BOY” attend; SAYERIUS owns BRUNTONIUS With JIM WELSHIUS for friend.[33] And each upon the other now A curious eye may throw, And from the seconds’ final rub In buff at length they show, And from their corners to the scratch Move stalwartly and slow.

Then each his hand stretched forth to grasp His foeman’s fives in friendly clasp; Each felt his balance trim and true―― Each up to square his mauleys threw―― Each tried his best to draw his man―― The feint, the dodge, the opening plan, Till right and left SAYERIUS tried―― HEENANUS’ grin proclaimed him “wide;” Then shook his nut――a “lead” essayed, Nor reached SAYERIUS’ watchful head.

At length each left is sudden flung, We heard the ponderous thud, And from each tongue the news was rung, SAYERIUS hath “first blood!” Adown HEENANUS’ Roman nose Freely the tell-tale claret flows, While stern SAYERIUS’ forehead shows That in the interchange of blows HEENANUS’ aim was good! Again each iron mauley swung, And loud the counter-hitting rung, Till breathless both, and wild with blows, Fiercely they grappled for a close; One moment in close hug they swing, Hither and thither round the ring, Then from HEENANUS’ clinch of brass, SAYERIUS, smiling, slips to grass!

I trow mine ancient breath would fail To follow through the fight Each gallant round’s still changing tale, Each feat of left and right. How through two well-fought hours and more Through bruise, and blow, and blood, Like sturdy bull-dogs, as they were, Those well-matched heroes stood. How nine times in that desperate mill HEENANUS, in his strength, Knocked stout SAYERIUS off his pins, And laid him all at length; But how in each succeeding round SAYERIUS smiling came, With head as cool, and wind as sound, As his first moment on the ground, Still confident and game. How from HEENANUS’ sledge-like fist, Striving a smasher to resist, SAYERIUS’ stout right arm gave way, Yet the maimed hero still made play, And when “in-fighting” threatened ill, Was nimble in “out-fighting,” still―― Still did his own maintain―― In mourning put HEENANUS’ glims, Till blinded eyes and helpless limbs, The chances squared again. How blind HEENANUS, in despite Of bleeding face and waning sight, So gallantly kept up the fight, That not a man could say Which of the two ’twere wise to back, Or on which side some random crack Might not decide the day; And leave us――whoso won the prize―― Victor and vanquished, in all eyes, An equal meed to pay.

Two hours and more the fight had sped, Near unto ten it drew, But still opposed――one-armed to blind―― They stood, those dauntless two. Ah, me! that I have lived to hear Such men as ruffians scorned, Such deeds of valour “brutal” called, Canted, preached-down, and mourned! Ah! that these old eyes ne’er again, A gallant mill shall see! No more behold the ropes and stakes, With colours flying free!

* * * * *

But I forget the combat―― How shall I tell the close? That left the Champion’s belt in doubt Between those well-matched foes? Fain would I shroud the tale in night―― The meddling Blues that thrust in sight―― The ring-keepers o’erthrown; The broken ropes――th’ encumbered fight―― HEENANUS’ sudden blinded flight―― SAYERIUS pausing, as he might, Just when ten minutes, used aright Had made the day his own!

Alas! e’en in those brighter days We still had Beaks and Blues―― Still canting rogues, their mud to fling, On self-defence, and on the Ring, And fistic art abuse! And ’twas such varmint had the power The Champions’ fight to stay, And leave unsettled to this hour The honours of that day! But had those honours rested―― Divided as was due, SAYERIUS and HEENANUS Had cut the Belt in two.

And now my fists are feeble, And my blood is thin and cold, But ’tis better than Old Tom to me To recall those days of old. And may you, my great-grandchildren, That gather round my knee, Ne’er see worse men, nor iller times Than I and mine might be, Though England then had prize-fighters―― Even reprobates like me.

[29] There were numerous pictorial representations of the battle both in England and America; some of them amusingly imaginative. The large, coloured engraving, published by Newbold, and its smaller American piracy, are faithful as to the men and the field of action. The object in view in these pictures――that of giving recognisable portraits of most of the pugilistic, and many of the sporting, and a few of the literary notabilities of the day, of course destroys all truthfulness or reality of grouping, as in so many works professing to represent great battles, festivals, or public commemorations. Our frontispiece, from a contemporary sketch, is less pretentious, and therefore more realistic and truthful.

[30] An allusion to “Gladstone claret;” cheap, thin French wines being admitted first at low duty in 1860.――ED.

[31] Domus Savilliana――Saville House, on the north side of Leicester Square, where sparring exhibitions and bouts with the gloves were frequent in those days. See also PUGILISTICA, vol. i., page 19, for a notice of Saville House.――ED.

[32] Cusick, Heenan’s trainer, and Jack Macdonald (still living, 1881).

[33] Harry Brunton, now host of the “Nag’s Head,” at Wood Green. Jemmy Welsh, late of the “Griffin,” Boro’.――ED.