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.