The son of Isaac and Alicia Callaway. His parents died young and he was educated by his grandfather, who was Steward to Guy's Hospital and lived within its precincts. He was apprenticed in 1809 to Sir Astley Cooper, and in 1815 he went to Brussels directly after the Battle of Waterloo. He was elected Assistant Surgeon to Guy's Hospital in 1825 at the same time as Bransby Cooper (qv), but was never promoted Surgeon, and resigned his office in 1847 when Edward Cock (qv) was elected over his head. He was chosen a Member of the Council of the Royal College of Surgeons on Oct 22nd, 1835, in succession to Sir William Blizard, and delivered the Hunterian Oration on Feb 21st, 1841, in the presence of Sir Robert Peel and a crowded audience. Failing sight and insufficient light – for more candles had to be brought into the theatre during its delivery – marred its effect until the Orator found his spectacles and delivered a eulogium on his master and friend, Sir Astley Cooper, who had died nine days earlier. He was twice married, having children by both wives. His eldest son was Thomas Callaway, junr (qv). He died at Brighton on Nov 16th, 1848, having made a considerable fortune by private practice. The 'Young' Collection at the College of Surgeons contains a portrait of him drawn on stone by R J Lane, ARA, after a picture by A Morton. Callaway wrote nothing. He was better fitted for the private practice in which he was successful than for the position of a surgeon to an important hospital with a medical school. He is described by Dr Wilks as being rather under the middle height, somewhat stout, bald on the top of the head with very black hair at the sides. He was clean-shaved and affected the dress and manner of his master, Sir Astley Cooper, whom he adored, wearing a black dress coat tightly buttoned up, with a massive gold chain hanging below; the collar of the coat was narrow, over which appeared a very white cravat. He had piercing black eyes expressive of great discernment and intelligence. When he sat in his large yellow chariot with footmen behind, he was continually looking out first on one side and then on the other, so that he never missed a friend to give him a kindly nod. According to the manners of the time, when the carriage drove up to a patient's house the footman knocked heavily at the door and proceeded to let down the carriage steps to enable his master to alight, who then in a stately manner marched up to the house. His practice was more medical than surgical, and although he was much respected by his brethren in the neighbourhood who frequently met him in consultation, his patients were mostly his own, and this was probably the reason why his fees were small. His rooms in the Borough were thronged every morning, so that stories of his enormous practice were very rife – such as a heavy bag of guineas being taken to the bankers every morning, and the omnibus conductors on the way to the City from the suburbs demanding "Anyone for Dr Callaway's this morning?" He practised in the Borough High Street.