As it no doubt will prove interesting to all those who have admired the wonderful pluck and endurance of the greatest gladiator of modern times to know something of the progress of that insidious disease which gradually but surely did its work, we append a few particulars. Since the memorable battle of Farnborough—when Sayers appeared in the ring the picture of health, and the result proved that his physique could not have been improved upon—he now and again showed symptoms of the hectic flush which is the precursor of an affection of the lungs. This was brought on by the course of life he subsequently chose, or rather by the force of circumstances under which he was placed. Unable to fall back upon the pleasures of a cultivated mind from want of education, Tom became the idol of his fellows; he cast off all those restraints which had secured for him health and victory, and plunged into excesses of living—late hours and dissipation. Nature’s laws are not to be broken with impunity, and in the beginning of 1866 he fell into a very low condition, and betrayed symptoms of consumption, aggravated with diabetes, for which Mr. Adams, F.R.C.S., attended him on February 20, at his sister’s, Mrs. King’s, 16, Claremont Square, Pentonville. His robust and healthy frame exhibited a great change for the worse, and the doctor then feared, from his having wasted away so much, coughing frequently, and losing strength fast, that he was sinking into a decline. He was ready to acknowledge his physical weakness, but when told of the serious nature of the disease then apprehended, he became as docile as a child, and obeyed the injunctions of his medical adviser, who, we may remark in passing, expressed to us the melancholy pleasure which he experienced whilst Tom was under his care. However, the dreaded enemy was stalled-off by careful watching and nursing, and he recovered sufficiently to take a trip to Brighton about the middle of April. When there, he appeared strong and robust, and like his former self. This, however, was not to last long, for at the end of August he returned to his sister’s, in Claremont Square, and in a consultation held there between Dr. Adams and Mr. Brown, they came to the conclusion that actual and absolute disease of the lungs had set in, and that he could not survive many weeks. He took a fancy to go to his old friend’s, Mr. Mensley, High Street, Camden Town, on October 16, and there he stayed until he died. For the satisfaction of Dr. Adams himself, that gentleman called in Dr. Gull to consult, but they both agreed that nothing more could be done to save him. A reaction took place in his condition after being a fortnight at Mr. Mensley’s; he seemed to get fresher and stronger, and for a week remained in a doubtful state, giving hopes to his friends that he would survive the illness. A relapse came on, and with it unconsciousness, and for the last few days he had only a few intervals of consciousness. Mr. Litten, assistant chaplain of St. Pancras, attended by desire of Sayers, and administered the consolations of religion. He passed away at six o’clock on Wednesday evening, November 7th, in the presence of his father, with his two children at hand. For upwards of four-and-twenty hours before his death he was in a state of semi-insensibility, and could only recognise his friends on being aroused and appealed to. But the great change came with comparative peace at last, and when nature compelled him to “throw up the sponge,” he left the world, let us hope, without that pain which no man feared less when he stood up in defence of his reputation as the Emperor of British boxers. Many were the inquiries made for the health of poor Tom, and it is satisfactory to know that he was visited by some who had taken a part against him in the battle-field, and that he bid them, each and all, a peaceful farewell.
The amount of money subscribed for Sayers by his personal admirers and the public was £3,000, which sum was invested in the names of trustees, Tom to receive the interest during his life, providing he never fought again; and, in the event of his fighting again or dying, the interest was to go to the children until of age, when it was to be divided between them. Tom left only two children—young Tom, then at boarding-school, and fourteen years old, and Sarah, in her seventeenth year. Independent of the interest in this sum, Sayers left a considerable amount of property in plate and other valuables. Some of his backers have treasured up souvenirs of him. Mr. John Gideon, Tom’s earliest “guide, philosopher, and friend,” has the boots in which Sayers fought Heenan, with the Farnborough grass and earth attaching to the spikes, just as the great gladiator left them.
Those who remember the personal appearance of the departed Champion will have his bronzed, square, and good-humoured, lion-like phiz in their mind’s eye; those who did not see him in the flesh must imagine a round, broad, but not particularly thick-set man, standing 5 feet 8½ inches in his stocking-feet, with finely turned hips, and small but powerful and flat loins, remarkably round ribs and girth, and square shoulders. His arms were of medium length, and so round as not to show prominently the biceps, or even the outer muscles of the fore-arm, to the extent often seen in men of far inferior powers of hitting and general strength. Indeed, the bulk of Sayers was so compactly packed that you did not realise his true size and weight at a cursory glance, and it was this close and neat packing of his trunk—excuse the pun—that doubtless was an important ingredient in many a “long day” in which Tom’s lasting powers were the admiration of every spectator. Tom’s head was certainly of the “bullet” shape, and it was supported by a neck of the sort known as “bull,” conveying the idea of enduring strength and determination to back it. We have no phrenological examination of Tom’s “bumps” before us, but we doubt not those of combativeness and amativeness were fully developed. Tom’s fighting weight began at 10st. 6lb.; in his later battles it was 10st. 10lb. to 10st. 12lb. The photographs which figure in the print-shop windows do not convey a fair idea of Tom’s good-tempered and often merry expression: he seems to have been taken when filled with the contemplation of the seriousness of the position of having one’s “counterfeit presentment” multiplied and sent forth to the world. From the hips downward Tom was not a “model man.” Though round in the calf, his thighs were decidedly deficient in muscular development; yet no man made better use of his pins in getting in and out again, as witness his up-hill performances with the six-foot Slasher, and the ponderous and more active Benicia Boy. It was to Tom’s excellent judgment of time and distance that the severity of his hitting was due, and to his mighty heart—a bigger never found place in man’s bosom—that his triumphant finish of many a well-fought day is to be attributed. No man ever fought more faithfully to his friends or bravely with his foes in “the battle of life;” and therefore is the tribute of a record of his deeds due to Tom Sayers.
His remains were consigned to their parent earth, on Wednesday, November 15th, 1866, at the Highgate Cemetery, attended by an immense concourse of the sympathising and curious. A committee of friends, the admirers of true British courage, raised a monument over the spot where—
“After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well.”
Of this monument we present a faithful delineation.
It would be an unpardonable omission were we to conclude the biography of Tom Sayers without appending the remarkable poem, attributed to the pen of William Makepeace Thackeray, which appeared in Punch, April 28th, 1860. We need hardly say that it is a paraphrase rather than a parody of Lord Macaulay’s legend of “Horatius” in the “Lays of Ancient Rome.”
THE COMBAT OF SAYERIUS AND HEENANUS.
A LAY OF ANCIENT LONDON.