The conquest of Poulson was unquestionably the greatest achievement of Sayers’s pugilistic career. He was now established as a man with whom the men under 12 stone on the boxing list must not meddle; at any rate, none other were likely to get backers against him.
From this period the name of Tom Sayers mixes itself with every question of the belt and the Championship.
In the year 1855, a proposition was set on foot by a number of patrons of the Ring, to raise, by subscription, a sum of money to purchase a belt of greater intrinsic value than anything of the kind previously presented, in lieu of the belt which had “gone astray” during the squabbles between Bendigo, Caunt, and the Tipton Slasher. Lists were opened, and before long a sum of nearly £100 was collected. To Mr. Hancock, of New Bond Street, was entrusted the manufacture of the trophy, and from that gentleman’s establishment was produced the elegant badge of the highest fistic honours which Tom Sayers so well and so worthily won. On the belt being ordered, the committee who undertook its management issued the following as the conditions on which it should be held: “That it should not be handed over to any person claiming the Championship until he had proved his right to it by a fight; that any pugilist having held it against all comers for three years, without a defeat, should become its absolute possessor; that the holder should be bound to meet every challenger of any weight who should challenge him for the sum of £200 a side, within six months after the issue of such challenge, within the three years; that he should not be bound to fight for less than £200 a side; that at the final deposit for every match within the three years the belt should be delivered up to the committee until after the battle; and, finally, that on the belt being given to the winner of any Champion-fight, he should deposit such security as should be deemed necessary in the hands of the committee to ensure the above regulations being carried out.”
No sooner did it become known that the belt was ready for whosoever could win it, than there was a general stirring up of the dormant energies of the big men who had retired, or thought to be about to retire, from the Ring. Harry Broome shook himself together; the Tipton Slasher roused him from his lair; Tom Paddock’s hair stood on end between hope and fear of disappointment; while Aaron Jones, who about this time (1855) had fought the second of two tremendous battles with Paddock, and, though defeated, had entirely removed any impressions as to his want of pluck caused by his battles with Harry Orme, also pricked up his ears, and issued a defiant grunt. The only man among the recent combatants for Champion’s honours who made no sign was Harry Orme, who was content to rest upon his well-earned reputation. At first it was thought there would not be found a man sufficiently venturous to tackle the “Ould Tipton,” but this was soon seen to be a fallacy; for not one only, but each and every of the aspirants sent out a defiance to the crooked-legged hero of the hardware districts. The first cartel that reached him was that of Aaron Jones, and with him preliminaries were at once arranged.
The challenges of Broome and Paddock arriving afterwards, the Slasher informed them that they must wait the issue of the struggle with Jones. Broome and Paddock seemed both disinclined to wait for this event, and neither was desirous of postponing his claims to those of his co-challenger, and, as a natural consequence, a good deal of badinage took place between them, which ended in their being matched for £200 a side, to ascertain which should have the preference. While they were in training Aaron Jones was compelled to forfeit to the Tipton Slasher, through meeting with an accident during his training; so that there appeared a clear course for the winner.
The fight between Broome and Paddock took place on the 19th of May, 1856, and was won by Tom Paddock with ease in 51 rounds, and 63 minutes, it being at once apparent that, though Harry Broome had all the will and the courage to do deeds of valour, the power had deserted him, and he had become prematurely old and stale. (See page 294.)
Soon after Paddock’s defeat of Broome, Paddock obtained the acme of his desires—viz., a match with his old opponent, the Slasher; but when £80 a side had been staked Master Tom allowed his temper to get the better of his judgment, and, having offended his best friends, had to forfeit through a scarcity of “ochre.” This was not only a disappointment to himself, but also to his opponent, who was thus foiled in his efforts to get hold of the belt, which could not be obtained without a mill, and which he had made sure of winning from Tom Paddock. Just previous to this mishap Jones had recovered from his accident, and, to the surprise of all, had been matched with the “coming man,” Tom Sayers; so that even here the “Old’un” was again done out of an opponent, and the belt still remained in abeyance, to abide the issue between Sayers and Jones, the winner to meet the ponderous Tipton for the coveted trophy. This fight, which took place on the banks of the Medway, on the 19th February, 1857, we now propose to narrate.
Owing to the puritanical persecution to which the Ring had been for some time subjected, a line of country had to be selected which had for a long time been untried, so that there was every prospect of matters being adjusted in that quarter without let or hindrance. Although bills were circulated, stating that a train would leave the Great Northern Station at King’s Cross on Tuesday at nine o’clock, it was at the eleventh hour considered that the locality would on the present occasion be too “warm,” and therefore, an alteration was deemed prudent. This alteration could not be made public at so late a period, and it was only those who happened to consult the initiated at the benefit of the Pugilistic Benevolent Association, on the previous Monday evening, who got a due to the real state of the case. The consequence was that on Tuesday morning, at the Fenchurch Street Station, there were at the utmost 180 persons, including a considerable number of patricians and a very small proportion of the professors of the noble art, while of the “roughs” and other noisy demonstrators there was an almost total absence. These gentry and some few unfortunates of the higher class hastened to the Great Northern terminus at the hour named in the handbills, and great was their disappointment, and loud their indignation, at finding themselves sold.
The start from Fenchurch Street took place at eight o’clock precisely, and by nine o’clock Tilbury was reached, where all at once embarked in a vessel provided for the purpose, and by twenty minutes to ten were safely on board, and, greatly to the credit of the managers of the expedition, a start was at once effected. In order to throw dust in the eyes of the Blues, it was determined to proceed straight to the mouth of the river; and, in the face of a stiff gale from E.N.E., the journey to the Nore was effected in excellent style. The lumpy water in this locality had, as may be imagined, a most unpleasant effect upon many of the voyagers, whose stomachs, unaccustomed to salt water, and anything but improved in tone by their nocturnal vigils (as they had sat up all night in order to be early in the morning), were turned inside out; and the consequence was that swabs and buckets of water were in strong demand. After about an hour’s tossing among the billows, “’bout ship” was the cry, the river was re-entered, and the vessel sped homewards until a spot was reached not far from Canvey Island, where Freeman and the Tipton Slasher fought. With some difficulty a landing was effected, and Tom Oliver, Tom Callas, Puggy White, &c. proceeded to form the lists, although it was not without extraordinary exertions that anything like a favourable spot could be found, and even this was rough and extremely uneven, from the late heavy weather. Numerous were the mishaps of the company on landing, but by no means equal to those they experienced on attempting to regain the vessel after the battle was over, when thick darkness overspread the land, and led many an unwary traveller into mud and mire of the most consistent character. The ring was pitched by half-past twelve o’clock, and a tolerable outer ring was established; but, as usual when the attendance is small, the difficulty of preserving this outer circle intact was very great, and towards the close of the fight, notwithstanding the exertions of some of the ring-keepers, the spectators crowded close to the ring, but, fortunately, did not disturb the ropes and stakes.
The combatants, who had made a sort of demi-toilette on board the steamer, quickly entered the ring, Sayers attended by Jemmy Welsh and George Crockett, Jones advised by Alec Keene and Mike Madden. The stake was £100 a side. The career of Tom’s youthful antagonist will be found sketched at pages 253, 283, and 289 of this volume. Jones had the advantage of Sayers in age by five years; his height 5 feet 11½ inches, and his weight 12st.