Tom Sayers was the last of the great champions of England under the old dispensation. And, as champions go, he was a little man, standing 5 feet 8 inches and usually weighing about 11 stone. He was born at Brighton in 1826, and as a lad was apprenticed to a bricklayer there. At the age of twenty-two he came to London to work on the London and North-Western Railway. He was known from a lad as being fairly handy with the gloves, and in more than one pot-house brawl he had shown more than that he could take care of himself. In all his fights, with one exception, he gave away weight. His first battle was in 1849, with Abe Crouch, who was two stone the heavier and whom Sayers decisively thrashed. He fought for two and a half hours with Jack Grant of Southwark, and just beat him after an extraordinary display of pluck.

Sayers’s only defeat was at the hands of Nat Langham, in October of 1853. And this beating was certainly due to over-confidence, not during, but before the fight. The men were nearly equal in weight and Langham was six years older. As he had been used to giving other opponents as many stone as he was giving Langham pounds, he took very little trouble with his training, and entered the ring somewhat soft. Langham, on the other hand, had got into excellent condition in the hands of Ben Caunt.

Bell’s Life tells us quite frankly in its issue just before this battle that the “Blues” were to be outwitted, that the rendezvous for the combat was being kept a strict secret, but that information as to the place and time could be obtained at Ben Caunt’s or Alec Keene’s. In the event a train left Bishopsgate Street Station for 100 an unknown destination, when, while the day was still young, a ring was formed and the men set to.

For once in a way youth was not served. As soon as he stripped it was seen that Sayers was flabby and fat about both body and face, and as time went, not only was his wind affected, but his eyes swelled much more easily than if he had been in hard condition. Langham had the advantage in height and reach, and he was a better boxer than Sayers in those days. The first round ended in a knock-down to Sayers, but the ground was slippery and Langham was none the worse. A few rounds later Langham improved, using the blow that was known as his “pickaxe,” a chopping left designed to blind his opponents by hitting them just below the eyes in such a way that they swelled and blinded them. Also he began in the fifth round to put in many straight blows over his man’s guard. Sayers grinned good-humouredly, though his face was covered with blood. In the next round he flung himself at Langham and hit him thrice on the jaw, finally sending him down hard. But how he regretted the slackness of his training! Throughout the seventh and eighth rounds Sayers followed up his advantage and gave his antagonist a terri............