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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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