CHAPTER I.

JEM WARD (CHAMPION).—1822–1831.

Albeit this period does not mark any change in the “school,” or style, nor in the rules which govern the practice of public boxing, there are reasons to be found for a division, in the more copious, accurate, and systematic reports of the prize-fights of this and the following periods, due greatly to the exertions and ability of the late Vincent George Dowling, Esq., of the _Morning Chronicle_, the editor, founder, and establisher of _Bell’s Life in London_, for many years afterwards “the Oracle of the Ring,” a title and function now well-nigh abdicated. About this time, too, other able pens lent their aid. George Daniels, Esq. (the D—— G——, whose criticisms on the drama lent large value to the series known as “Cumberland’s Plays,” and who was for a time editor of the _Weekly Dispatch_), was among the number. That journal also had the services of George Kent (an enthusiastic milling reporter, whose son and grandson yet wield the _stylus_ of manifold writers for the daily and weekly press),[35] and of Mr. Smith, during the period of his editorship. “Paling its ineffectual fire” before the rising glories of _Bell’s Life_, and having lost its best writers, a late Old Bailey attorney and alderman, finding the _Dispatch_ had lost caste with the sporting community, turned his coat, and betook himself with the zeal and virulence of a renegade to revile and slander the sports by which his journal had grown and prospered. But this is by the way. From the period we have mentioned the chronicles of pugilism have been more accurate and minute, and therefore more worthy of preservation; hence the greater bulk and volume of this portion of our history.

On the retirement of Spring, which that boxer announced shortly after his second battle with Langan, the public attention was occupied with discussing the worthiest candidate for the vacated belt. In the first instance Langan was spoken of as the “coming man;” but though there was some correspondence, as already noticed, with Tom Shelton and Ward, the Irish champion suddenly retired without making a match, and went into business at Liverpool. The champion was now to be looked for elsewhere. Three men had at this time their respective admirers and partisans—Tom Cannon (the great gun of Windsor), Josh. Hudson (the John Bull fighter), and Jem Ward (the Black Diamond). The friends of Josh. urged his claim, on the ground that he had defeated Ward on the 11th of December, 1823; but then a fortnight after the second fight of Spring and Langan (on June 23rd, 1824), Tom Cannon had beaten Hudson in twenty minutes and seventeen rounds, and again (see Memoir of CANNON) in the November following, in sixteen rounds, twenty minutes. This led to Cannon’s challenging Ward for the championship, the details and results of which we shall notice in due course. We now return to the biography of Ward.

Jem Ward, the eldest of seven children of Nat. Ward, a tradesman in the vicinity of Ratcliff Highway, was born December 26th, 1800, the day of all days of the year, known as “boxing day,” and at an early age exhibited the talents of a boxer and wrestler, which afterwards won him fame. At the age of sixteen, his father having failed in business as a butcher, Jem was put to the then lucrative, but heavily laborious calling of a coal-whipper. Jem soon became the lion of a sparring club held at Bromley New Town, where he dimmed the shine of those who were ambitious of a turn with “the Black Diamond,” and was never loth to accommodate any customer, regardless of weight or strength. Ward’s fame spread, and it was resolved by his admirers and friends that he should quit the narrow circle of his triumphs, and give the general public the opportunity of judging of his qualifications. Accordingly, on Tuesday, January 22nd, 1822, on the occasion of the benefit of Sutton and Gybletts, at the Fives Court, Jem was introduced to the aristocratic patrons of pugilism. His appearance is thus recorded in the “Annals of Sporting” for that month. “The principal novelty was the introduction of a new Black Diamond, and although a little bit in the rough, yet now and again his shining qualities so far peeped out that curiosity asked, ‘Who is he?’ ‘Where does he come from?’ ‘Is he a novice?’ The replies were ‘His name is Ward; he is an East-ender; he has put the quilt on all who have tried him; he is a sharp one in a turn-up, but what he may do in the ring is another matter. However, he can be backed against anything of his weight (twelve stone) barring the Gas (Tom Hickman).’ Ward was pitted with Spencer. Like most newcomers, he displayed too much eagerness, and more milling than steady science. He received good encouragement from the amateurs present, and his nob was pronounced to be a fighting one.”

The fancy were not slow in discussing the merits of Ward, and a purse was immediately raised for the purpose of testing his capabilities. Dick Acton,[36] considered a resolute boxer, was named as Ward’s opponent, and on Wednesday, June 12, 1822, the battle came off on Moulsey Hurst. Josh. Hudson (soon after to meet and vanquish his principal) seconded Ward, assisted by Tom Jones. Acton was waited upon by Tom Spring and Eales. The fight is thus reported in the _Dispatch_:—

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Acton on the defensive, as if wishing to ascertain what novelties in the art he was likely to be that day treated to by Ward. The latter, after a little dodging about, let fly with his left, but was short. Acton likewise missed; he, however, followed Ward, who kept breaking ground and retreating. Acton tried it on, but some exchanges followed without effect. The Diamond suddenly put in a straight one on Acton’s nob, and got away smiling. Acton followed him to the ropes, where he got a sharp blow on the cheek; Ward making good use of his legs and getting out of the corner; nor was he long before he planted a heavy blow on the right side of Acton’s conk, which drew the claret. (“That’s as good as a pinch of snuff to him,” cried Josh.) A pause. Ward’s left hand now took liberties with the other side of Acton’s nose, and the pink followed. Ward got away. (“Mind and keep your hand closed,” said Josh.) Some more blows passed, when Ward again got away. Acton already seemed tired and slow; indeed he had been following the new one to a very poor purpose. Ward put in a heavy hit under Acton’s right eye that produced the claret, then closed, and after some hitting both were down, Ward undermost. This round occupied eight minutes and a half, evidently to the disadvantage of Acton. (Eleven to four on Ward offered.)

2.—Acton could not stop Ward’s left. The latter put in several facers, and got away without receiving any return. In closing, Acton pummelled away, and both went down, Ward again undermost.

3.—Acton made play and put in a heavy one on Ward’s mug, but on endeavouring to repeat it, Ward stopped him neatly. Acton bored his opponent to the ropes, and, after a sharp struggle to obtain the throw, Ward got Acton down. (Shouts of applause for the new man.)

4.—This round decided the fight. Acton seemed to depend more on stopping than hitting, and Ward had it comparatively all his own way. He made a good right-handed hit, and again got away laughing. Acton also got nobbed right and left; but Ward following him to force the fighting, received some heavy hits that drew the claret from his nose. A pause, the men looking at each other. Ward made play and put in so severe a body blow as to make Acton drop his arms. In the close, Ward had also the best of it, and in going down Acton was undermost. (“It’s nearly over,” was the cry.)

5.—Acton came to the scratch staring. Ward put in two or three nobbers, and ran Acton to the ropes; but in the fall Ward was undermost.

6 and last.—Heavy counter-hits. Ward planted a severe blow on Acton’s left eye that made him wink again. The left hand of the former was repeatedly at work, and by a sharp blow on the left ear Acton was finally floored. When “Time” was called, he was deaf to it, and three or four minutes elapsed before he was able to get out of the ring. Time, fourteen minutes and a half.

REMARKS.—The science, activity, and quick hitting exhibited by Ward satisfied his backers, that, with a little more experience, he was calculated to make a noise in the milling world. Acton was too slow for his opponent.

Ward, who was now anxious to do business, challenged Jack Martin for £150; and in order to keep the game alive, after Josh. Hudson had defeated Barlow, at Harpenden Common, on the 10th of September, 1822, a subscription purse was entered into to give Ward another chance of showing off with Burke, of Woolwich, brother to the pugilist who fought with Jack Randall. After he had put on his clothes, Hudson went round the ring with his hat, and collected the needful. This fight lasted only seven minutes, it being rather a display of wrestling than milling on the part of Burke. The Woolwich hero was seconded by Tom Oliver and Abbot; Ward by Tom Shelton and Harry Holt. It was a mere gift to Jem.

Some meetings were afterwards held between the parties as to the weight of Ward, and he was eventually backed to fight Bill Abbot, for £50 a-side. And here it devolves upon us, as faithful biographers, to detail a circumstance in the life of our hero, over which we would fain draw a veil. In order that we may not identify ourselves with any party, we prefer giving the account of the matter as it was published at the time, leaving our readers to decide for themselves:—

Pugilism between Ward, the Black Diamond, and Abbot, the conqueror of Oliver, for £50 a-side, at Moulsey Hurst, on Tuesday, October 22, 1822.

An unusual degree of interest had been excited throughout the fancy, respecting the event of this battle, in consequence of the superior milling talents displayed by Ward in his fight with Acton, and also in his various exhibitions at the Fives Court, but more particularly in his set-to with Cy. Davis. At one o’clock, Abbot threw his hat into the ring, followed by Richmond and Josh. Hudson, as his seconds; and, in a few minutes afterwards, Ward attended by Eales and Tom Jones, made his appearance.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Both men appeared in fine condition; and a minute or two elapsed, when Ward hit short with his left hand; but he soon rectified this mistake, by nobbing his opponent, getting away, and laughing at him. In a close, both went down, but Ward had the throw.

2.—It was already seen that Abbot was a plaything in the hands of Ward, for he not only nobbed him with the utmost ease, but put in so severe a hit on the body that Abbot went back three yards, staggering, and must have fallen, had not the ropes prevented him. Abbot, however, returned to the charge, when the round was finished by Ward hitting him down. (Seven to four.)

3.—Ward, from his tapping, light play, was denominated the Chinaman; nevertheless, the head of his opponent was so much at his service that he kept pinking without getting any return. Abbot was severely thrown.

4.—The backers of Ward were in high glee—it was all right; and Abbot received another fall ready to burst him.

5.—Abbot received a severe hit, and fell on his knees.

6 to 8.—In all these rounds Abbot appeared perfectly stupid from the repeated conkers he received, and the severe falls he experienced. (Five and six to one.)

9 to 12.—Abbot was so much at a loss that his blows were thrown away; in fact, he had not the shadow of a chance. In the last round he received a tremendous cross-buttock.

13 to 17.—The whole of the minds of the amateurs were so much made up in consequence of the superior talents displayed by Ward, who did as he liked with his opponent, that ten to one was offered, but no takers.

18.—Abbot hit down, and the battle was considered all but over; so much so that Belcher left the ring to get his pigeon to convey the intelligence to town of the defeat of Abbot. On crossing the river at Hampton, the first party he met in a boat he asked who had won the battle. “Abbot,” was the reply. “Impossible!” said Belcher. He also inquired of another party. “Abbot,” was the answer. “It can’t be—you certainly must be mistaken,” rejoined the hero of the Castle. In the third boat he saw Abbot and his second, when he repeated his inquiries; and on being informed that Abbot was the winner, Tom replied, “I’m now satisfied,” and immediately sent up the pigeon, with Abbot’s name attached to it instead of Ward’s.

19.—At the conclusion of this round, Eales, observing something wrong in his man, called out to Ward’s backer, who immediately stepped into the ring, when Eales, with much indignation, observed, “Ward says he means to cut it this round, he shall lose it.” “No,” replied his backer.

20.—Ward now endeavoured to drop fighting, in order to give Abbot a chance; and actually, in an under tone, said to Abbot, “Now hit me.” When Eales remonstrated with him for such conduct, he observed, “I know my orders—I must not win it.” (A hundred to one on Ward.)

21.—Ward gave his opponent all the opportunity he could; but Abbot was so distressed that he could scarcely knock a fly off a leaf. Ward took care to go down.

22 and last.—Ward went down after a slight skirmish, and on being picked up and placed on his second’s knee, he smiled, but recollecting “his orders,” and for fear that Abbot should give in, he went off in a swoon, and when “Time” was called, he would not notice it till he thought proper to come to, and quit the ring.

REMARKS.—It is impossible to describe the consternation, as well as the indignation, expressed by the amateurs; so bare-faced a robbery was never before witnessed in the annals of pugilism. The umpire, when asked his opinion, replied, “He could not swear it was a cross; but he was quite satisfied there was wrong conduct somewhere.” The most honourable part of the sporting people declared they would not pay at present; and several gentlemen who had lost heavy stakes agreed to meet next evening at the One Tan, in Jermyn Street, in order to investigate the matter. Ward, on recovering from his swoon, made his way out of the ring, and in his eagerness to get across the water to Hampton, jumped with the utmost ease over some ropes.

Thus far the ring-reporter of the day. On Wednesday evening, October 23rd, a numerous meeting of sporting men took place at the One Tun, Jermyn Street, to investigate the suspicious circumstances connected with this affair, when, after hearing evidence, all bets were declared off, and a second meeting appointed at Tattersall’s, on Monday, November 4, 1822; on this occasion, after a great deal of chaffing and murmuring amongst the betters, the president of the Daffy Club, who held the stakes, offered the £50 a-side to each of the backers, but they refused the offer, and the president put the £100 into his pocket, and left the meeting. It was ultimately agreed that the matter should be laid before the Pugilistic Club and Mr. Jackson, and that their decision should be final; however, after considerable disputes upon the subject, the stakes were drawn, and the backers of Ward and Abbot agreed to receive £50 each.

We cannot help remarking here, that although it was proved beyond a doubt that Ward committed the cross above alluded to, there was also sufficient evidence to prove that it was more an error of the head than of the heart; for, on his being called upon for an explanation, at the meeting at the One Tun, in Jermyn Street, he burst into tears, hung down his head, and admitted it was a cross. He further stated that he had been instigated to commit it by his backer, who promised him £100 if he lost the fight. Eales, the second to Ward, also stated, “that towards the conclusion of the battle, he wished him to go in and win it, but was greatly surprised to hear Ward say he had his orders, and must _not_ win the battle.” Towards the conclusion of the meeting, Tom Cribb came forward, and in a very animated manner said, that he had never done wrong in his life; that Ward was a deluded and ignorant young man; that he believed he had been led away, and that he had told the truth; as a proof of his opinion he should make him a present of a sovereign, which he did, several gentlemen present following his example.

Ward also addressed the following letter, publicly confessing his fault:—

“_To the Editor of the_ WEEKLY DISPATCH.

“SIR,

“I trust you will excuse my obtruding upon you in requesting the insertion of a letter from me, whom I hope the sporting world will consider as much sinned against as sinning. My late fight with Abbot having given rise to much, I may say much merited animadversion, I hope in extenuation some consideration may be made for my inexperience in the world, and a too great reliance on those who have seduced and deceived me. Had I taken the advice of my trainer, in lieu of lending a too ready credence to the apparent friendly promises of my backer, I should not have to deplore the commitment of an act which has caused me the most bitter regret. I should be most happy, by way of retrieving in some degree the credit I have lost, to fight Abbot again for the present stakes. If I ask for too much in this, I am willing to meet him in the same ring with Hudson and Shelton, on the 19th instant, for a purse, or even for love.

“I am, Sir, with the greatest respect, “Your obliged servant “JAMES WARD.

“_November 12, 1827._”

At this time Ward was considered completely defunct in the milling world; the P.C. expelled Jem from the use of their ropes, and it was the general opinion that he would never again be permitted to enter the prize ring. In fact, so strong was the feeling entertained against Ward, that, on a proposal being made shortly afterwards to back him for £100 against Barlow, the friends of the latter scouted the proposition, and said that he should not disgrace himself by contending with a man who had been expelled the P.C. ropes.

Ward now remained quiet for a short time, expressed his sorrow for his misconduct, and promised his friends to do all in his power to gain the confidence of the sporting world. It was not long before an event occurred which brought Ward again before the fancy, and which tended greatly to do away with the ill-feeling which existed against him. After the fight between Hall and Wynnes, at Wimbledon Common, on Tuesday, February 4, 1823, he entered the ring for a subscription prize of the value of £5. His opponent was White-headed Bob, then unknown to the London ring, but by no means a novice. This was a good battle, Ward finishing his man in twenty rounds, nineteen minutes.

The judges now pronounced Ward the best twelve stone man in the ring; and he, in order to reinstate himself in the good opinion of the amateurs, inserted three separate challenges in the _Weekly Dispatch_; but that not having the desired effect, he determined to rusticate for a few months. He therefore started on a sparring tour with two or three of his pals. Bath races was the first object. There a match was made between Rickens, a Bath man, and Jem Ward, for £20 a-side, and a subscription purse. The battle took place at Lansdown, on Friday, July 2, 1823, Ward winning it without a scratch on his face or body.

Jem and his pals pursued their excursion, and now determined upon astonishing the natives at Portsdown Fair. A sparring-booth was soon knocked up for the edification and instruction of the yokels, and the amusement of the younger branches of the “Green” family, who had never had an opportunity of witnessing a bout at the Fives Court, in which his companions gave their assistance. The Black Diamond (who showed himself a brilliant of the first water) did all he could to accommodate the numerous customers who wished for a taste of the mufflers. Much mirth was excited by a “Knight of the Rainbow,” whose length, weight, and vanity, led him to believe he could polish the Diamond. Jem’s mawley was constantly rap, tap, tapping on Johnny Trot’s frontispiece, and occasionally rung the bell of his ear, until poor Trot did not know whether he had his own hair or a wig on. “Why don’t you look?” says Jem; “and not wink your peepers in that way.” “Because,” says Sir Rainbow, “you play so sharp, and I’ll have no more on’t.”

Ward next went to Southampton races to fight a man of the name of Johnson, _alias_ Jemmy the Black. The battle took place on Shirley Common, August 24, 1823, and Johnson was beaten to a stand-still in three rounds—time, seventeen minutes.

These victories induced our hero to think that he might now venture to show with a good grace in London; accordingly, at the Fives Court, in September, he informed the amateurs that a nobleman would back him against Josh. Hudson for £100 a-side. The match was made to take place at Moulsey Hurst. Ward’s peace was now considered to have been made with the fancy in general, who were anxious to witness the fine fighting of our hero, opposed to one of the highest-couraged boxers upon the list; but, unfortunately for Ward, on November 11, 1823, in the course of fifteen rounds, occupying thirty-five minutes, he was obliged to strike his colours to resolute Josh. (See Life of HUDSON).

This defeat was attributed by many to mere want of condition, and his friends readily came forward to back him for £100 a-side against Phil. Sampson, the Birmingham Youth.[37] On this occasion Sampson weighed twelve stone three pounds, height five feet ten and a-half inches; and Jem weighed but three pounds more, and was of equal stature. The match was therefore in these respects even. The battle took place on the 21st of June, at Colnbrook, in the same ring as that in which Barney Aaron and Arthur Mathewson had just decided their differences. Aby Belasco and Harry Harmer waited on Sampson: Tom Oliver and Tom Owen esquired Ward.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Ward stood with the left arm extended, and Sampson ready with both hands. Five minutes passed in sparring—attitudes of both beautiful. Sampson backed to the ropes. Ward threw out for a draw. Sampson returned and hit short. Sampson dropped, from a slip. No mischief.

2.—Sparring again. Sampson evidently afraid of his man. Ward let fly—stopped; again at the body—stopped. Sampson countered, and slipped half down. Ward stood over, made up to hit as he rose; but at the moment Sampson put his hand to the ground and saved his bones.

3.—Sampson began left and right. Ward broke away in gallant style, then countered upon him, and tapped the wine-vat. Sampson followed. Ward met him again. Sampson rolled down. (Three to one on Ward.)

4.—Sampson backed to the ropes, and made up for counter-hitting. Ward showed fine science to get at him. Sampson let fly; Ward stopped it, went to work, but Sampson dropped on his knees to avoid Ward’s wrestling.

5.—Ward closed on him, and played left and right on his head. He seemed to lay Sampson across his right hip, while he jobbed him with the left hand until Sampson slipped away and went down.

6.—Sampson made play, and got one hand on Ward’s left eye. Ward hit, and Sampson stopped well, and tried his long shots, but he could not make them tell; he then dropped. It was easy to tell how all this was to end.

7.—Ward made play—whack on the head at both sides, then at the wind. (“Well stopped, Sampson.”) Ward then hitting out plump, he knocked him down.

8.—Sampson, furious from punishment, was kept writhing, from the rapidity of Ward’s blows, up and down. Ward chopped him on the ear, under the chin, and as he pleased, the blood flowing in a broad stream. Sampson went down.

9.—Ward broke away from a desperate hit, and Sampson followed, giving the chance away. Ward met him, and closed for a fall, but Sampson again dropped. (Six to one on Ward.)

10.—Ward caught him in the wind. Sampson went away nearly doubled. A good rally. Ward unwise to stand it. Sampson made his right hand tell a trifle. A close, and open fighting again. Ward’s hand, darting like a viper’s tongue, scarified Sampson’s face all over. Ward aimed a settler. Sampson ducked and dropped.

11.—Ward chopped him over his guard on the ear, and then bang on the nose. Sampson, all blood and bluster, followed him like a savage. Ward played with him and dropped him easy.

12.—Ward hit him left and right. Sampson down in an instant.

13.—Sampson had no chance. Ward put all his fine fighting aside.

14.—Sampson got Ward into a wild rally. (“Softly, Ward. What are you at?”) A round hit sent him under, but he jumped up merrily without his second’s aid.

15.—Sampson made play, but Ward met him and knocked him clean down.

16.—This round was all in favour of Ward.

17.—Ward closed Sampson’s left eye, which blinked a little, and chopped his ear, while the blood flowed profusely. Sampson all abroad, looking sick and sorrowful. Down he goes again.

18.—Ward got away from some desperate body blows. Sparring a little. (“Fight, Jem!” on all sides.) Jem did fight, and threw his man like a plaything.

19.—Sampson hit out well, but Ward, all coolness, stopped him and dropped him.

20.—Sampson made play, but was at once felled by Ward.

21.—Sampson down again. Ward without a mark.

22.—Ward began—one, two, both on the head; three on the ribs. Sampson, nearly up, rushed for a chance. Ward stopped a mill from him.

For the next three rounds Sampson was brought up but to receive, and in the twenty-fifth round he gave in, after fighting fifty minutes.

REMARKS.—It was delightful to witness the fine tactics of Ward, who reminded the spectators of the renowned Jem Belcher. His winning so easily against a skilful boxer and hard hitter like Sampson was a great feather in his cap. He won his battle in a style seldom witnessed, without a scratch. Another report simply adds to its description, “Ward may be champion if he does the right thing. He is far the best big man out, as a natural fighter.”

Shortly after this Cannon beat Josh. Hudson (June 23rd, 1824), and as Josh, engaged Cannon for a second trial, Jem issued a challenge to fight Langan for £300 a-side. This was not accepted, and Ward put forth another challenge for the championship, in which we read,—“Having observed in the sporting journals a great deal about who is entitled to the championship—some saying it is Langan (who has retired), others that it belongs to Shelton; while Hudson and Cannon, who are about to fight a second time, have intimated that the winner of their battle will claim it,—I beg to inform the public that I will fight any man in England, Ireland, or Scotland, for £300 a-side; and if I do not meet with a customer in a month, I shall lay claim to the title myself.” This offer was not accepted; but his old antagonist, Phil. Sampson, soliciting a second meeting for £100 a-side, Ward cheerfully closed with the proposition, and a match was made to come off December 28th, 1824. In the interim Tom Cannon and Josh. Hudson had fought a second time, and Cannon had utterly crushed up his brave and broad-bottomed antagonist.

The second mill of Jem Ward and Sampson came off at Perry Lodge, on the estate of the Duke of Grafton, about four miles beyond Stony Stratford. The attendance of the London division was not large, but from the neighbouring counties the muster was numerous. The total of the whole assemblage is estimated by a contemporary chronicler at 5,000 at the least; and although heavy rain fell throughout the day, every spectator remained till the conclusion of the interesting contest. The men arrived upon the ground about half-past twelve; Paddington Jones again attended upon Ward, and had upon the same side, as his brother second, Tom Oliver, known till our own time as the Commissary of the P.R. Peter Crawley and a Birmingham Friend (not a Quaker) picked up Sampson. Both men were in excellent condition; Sampson, whose weight was nearly thirteen stone, is praised for “looking better than in their former encounter;” we suspect the lack of physiological judgment in the reporter here, and should say “there was too much of him.” Ward was twelve stone seven pounds. The betting was anything but brisk—Ward, the favourite; but his partisans were lukewarm, and the “hardware lads” wanted long odds.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—The men were brought to the scratch at a quarter to one, and instantly threw themselves into position. Sampson’s manner was firm and imposing, and his looks betokened a determination to do his best. Ward gathered himself into as narrow a compass as possible, and, throwing his head and shoulders back, worked about his terrific left hand with an evident intention to bring it into action as speedily as circumstances would admit, while with his right he kept a steady guard. Sparring for a short time. Ward let fly his left, but was stopped. Sampson countered, but was stopped also. Sampson broke ground, but was again stopped, when Ward rushed to fight, and caught Sampson on the pudding-trap, rattling his grinders in a very musical manner. Sampson returned very slightly, and in a close, Ward was thrown, Sampson on him. Ward picked himself up and laughed.

2.—On coming to the scratch, Sampson showed first paint, from the larboard corner of his muzzle, but he was still firm and cheerful. Ward came up steady, and after a short manœuvre threw another chattering smack on Sampson’s gob with his right. Sampson rushed in to fight, but was well stopped. In the close, Sampson fell, and Ward close to him.

3.—All doubts of Ward’s meaning to win had now passed away, and two to one was offered freely upon him, but no takers. Sampson, anxious to go in, hit out at Ward’s nob, and caught him slightly. Ward was with him, and returned with interest. Sampson, not dismayed, went at him again, and caught him on the face. Ward fell from the slippery state of the ground, and the force of the blow.

4.—Ward stood for no ceremony, but delivered right and left on Sampson’s canister. Sampson rushed to a rally, but Ward got away with his customary activity. Ward then jumped in, was stopped at first, but repeating his effort, he hit Sampson on the auricular, and then dropped him by a blow on his frontispiece.

5.—Sampson came up rather open-mouthed, and a little worse for the paintbrush. Ward commenced fighting, hit out with his left, rather out of distance, and slipped. Sampson, anxious to take off Ward as he rose, rushed in. Ward, however, was quickly on his pins, and met his determined antagonist with a slight tap on his victualling office. Sampson, in getting away, fell outside the ropes. Ward stood up fresh and full of spirits.

6.—Good stops on both sides. An excellent rally followed, in which nozzlers were interchanged. Sampson, in getting away, fell on his nether end.

7.—Ward came up merry, and Sampson was not a whit less disposed for mischief. Sampson bored in, but Ward got away. The men came again to close quarters, when Sampson delivered a slight compliment on Ward’s snuffler. Ward fell on his knees.

8.—Ward delivered another unpleasant compliment on Sampson’s mouth. Sampson returned quickly. Ward rushed to in-fighting, when hits were interchanged, and Ward again fell on his knees. As this latter fall was supposed to have originated in the desire of Ward to escape punishment, there were some slight marks of disapprobation.

9.—Sampson came up game, although rather in the piping order. Ward, after a flourish, once more tapped him on the mouth, and got away. Sampson followed him up, and on going to in-fighting, Ward again slipped down.

10.—Ward busy rapping at Sampson’s ivories. Sampson rushed to rally, but two well-intentioned visitations to Ward’s nob were stopped, and Ward catching him round the neck, fibbed him severely. It was a ratti-tat-tat. Sampson fell, and Ward also slipped.

11.—Sampson came up blowing like Boreas. He was determined not to be idle, and went in right and left. Ward, cautious, caught the blows on his wrists as they were given, and, in retreating, Sampson dropped, through the slippery state of the ground.

12.—Ward again took the lead, and hit Sampson a terrific blow on the nose, which immediately entered into co-partnership with his mouth, in the claret line. Short sparring. A rally, in which blows were interchanged, and Ward fell, through a slip.

13.—Oliver was now in the highest spirits, and exclaimed he would lay ten to one that Ward would not get a black eye. Sampson came to work a little the worse for wear, and went in manfully to fight, but Ward stopped him with inimitable skill, and then rushing in, delivered facers left and right. Sampson fell on his back, and Ward fell on him.

14.—Sparring for a short time, when Ward again went to work with his left, and napped it slightly himself on the mouth from Sampson’s right. A spirited rally followed, in which Sampson received three flush hits on the nose and lips. Sampson received with the courage of a lion, and returned on Ward’s head; but Ward was with him again, and hit him down with a tremendous gobster.

15.—Sampson still preserved his game, and attempted to plant a left-handed lunge on Ward’s head. Ward parried the blow, rushed in, and delivered three times in succession on Sampson’s now disorganized physog. He then jumped away, followed by Sampson, who, on receiving another tap, went down.

16.—It was now manifest that, however well disposed Sampson might be to punish his man, he was unable to get at him, and his blows left but little impression, although we observed a slight tinge of claret from Ward’s proboscis. This was a short round; Ward, endeavouring to put in a body blow, over-reached himself, and fell on his hands and knees.

17.—Sampson put in a slight blow on the side of Ward’s head. Ward jumped back, but again returned to the charge, hit Sampson on the sore spot, threw him heavily, and fell upon him.

18.—Ward planted a severe blow on Sampson’s wind, again caught him a rap on the nose, closed, and threw him, adding his own weight to the impetus of the fall.

19.—Sampson came up boldly, although more cautious than heretofore. At last, on coming in, Ward hit him a terrific right-handed whack on his face, and floored him, in a twinkling.

20.—Sampson rather more on the standoff, from a deficiency of wind, and a consciousness that he was getting the worst of the in-fighting. Ward, not disposed to let him remain long in suspense, rushed and peppered his mug with great severity; and at length catching him round the neck, fibbed him with effect on the nut-crackers, and grassed him.

21.—Ward scarcely bore marks of the effects of his engagement,

“And had everything now, as Bill Gibbons would say— Like the bull in the china-shop—all his own way.”

Two to one was offered on Ward, but no takers; and the Brummagem, though no counterfeit, was evidently fast on the wane. Still he came up manfully, and in no way inclined to cry “enough.” Ward, with his customary caution, met Sampson as he came in, and fought at him with vigour; when Sampson fell, Ward on the top of him.

22.—Sampson came up groggy. Ward saw his situation, and rushed in. Sampson fell weak, Ward again on him.

23.—Sampson, although unsteady on his supporters, again went boldly up, when Ward floored him with a heavy spank on the throttle.

24.—Ward, as fresh as at the commencement, came up cool and collected. Sampson was almost stupefied. Ward tapped him on the snuff-box, and again downed him, falling upon him. It was thought it was all over, and Ward went to shake hands with his friends at the side of the ring. To the surprise of all, however, Phil. came again.

25.—Sampson tried a rush, and just reached Ward’s head. The latter laughed and popped in a right-hander on the body, when down went Sampson. Two more rounds took place, but they were all one way. Sampson, although the spirit was willing, had not the strength to carry out his intention, and at length, at the end of twenty-seven rounds, and thirty-seven minutes and a half, his friends took him away.

REMARKS.—The reporter adds: Ward, by the result of this battle, and the manner in which he conducted himself throughout, entitled himself to the approbation of the fancy, and we trust he will not now find any difficulty in obtaining backers against a more worthy opponent. We believe him to be the best fighter in the ring, and we know not with whom his chance of success would not be equal to his merits. With regard to Sampson, we should be unjust if we were not to say that he fought with a bravery and determination worthy of a better result. His confidence was certainly mistaken; but having done his best, his backers have nothing with which to charge him. He is a good man, though somewhat slow, and there are many men in the ring with whom he may be fairly matched; but with Ward, it was “Mr. Justice Burroughs’ wig to a farthing rushlight” against him.

This last conquest placed Ward upon “the topmost round of Fortune’s ladder.” He at once proposed to try his weight of metal and accuracy of aim against the “Great Gun of Windsor,” Tom Cannon, and thus he framed his—

“CHALLENGE FOR ONE THOUSAND POUNDS TO THOMAS CANNON.

“SIR,

“I am happy to inform you that my friends possess so much confidence in me that they have asked me, unsolicited on my part, to have ‘a shy’ for the championship of England. In consequence of this unexpected and very liberal support of my backers, I am enabled to dispute your self-elected right to the above title. My heart is in its proper place on the subject; my hands are ready to support my claim; and my legs are on the alert to perform their office, when called upon, in the hour of battle. It now only remains for you, Tom Cannon, to name your day to make a deposit; also the time when it will be most convenient for you to peel, and I to strip; and likewise the sum you will put down, to set the thing a-going. In order to show you that it is no bounce upon my part, and that the sporting world may not be baulked as to a mill between us, to obtain that pugilistic honour which Tom Cribb so nobly maintained for many years, Pierce Egan has authority from my friends to make a match on my behalf for £1,000. A letter addressed to P. E., 113, Strand, respecting your answer, the blunt will be fobbed out in a twinkling.

“Now, Tom, having made myself perfectly agreeable as to the terms of your challenge, and which I am sure, must also prove agreeable to your feelings (as I am well assured you fancy me as a customer), I have only to add that I sincerely wish you in good health, and likewise success in all your undertakings, except obtaining the honour of the championship. On that head I profess myself your rival; but if the chance of war should prove you the better man, the £1,000 will be awarded to you, without any grumbling on my part, and the proud title of champion into the bargain. Till then, Tom, I remain, with a couple of hands at your service,

“JAMES WARD.

“_February 20, 1825._”

Ward felt highly delighted when the match was made between him and Cannon for £500 a-side.

We have now arrived at the mill which decided definitively Ward’s right to the championship. On the 26th of May, 1825, Tom Spring took a farewell benefit at the Fives Court, when he finally retired from the ring. After some excellent setting-to, Spring addressed the company, and took his leave of them in the character of a boxer; and in his address, he impressed, upon his brother pugilists the importance of integrity. He said this was the key-stone to their success, and without it they would find it impossible to preserve the respect or support of their patrons. In the course of the evening Tom Cannon, after a set-to with Tom Oliver, came forward and said that he could be backed to fight Jem Ward, who had challenged him, and would make the match for £500 a-side. He had promised Mr. Hayne, his backer, that he would never more enter the P.R., but that gentleman finding he was extremely anxious to fight Ward, had not only absolved him from his promise, but, as on former occasions, had consented to post the coal on his behalf. This declaration on behalf of Cannon was received with acclamations, and a friend of Ward’s at once intimated that he would attend at Tom Cribb’s, and make the match. During the same evening, Peter Crawley also advanced to the edge of the stage, and said he had intended to challenge Ward, but as Cannon had been beforehand with him, he would only put forward his claim to fight the winner. At the meeting at Old Tom Cribb’s, in Panton Street, articles were duly signed, and the men were sent into training, Cannon to Henley-on-Thames, and Ward to York. The meeting was fixed for the 19th July, 1825. As the day of battle approached, Cannon removed to Marlborough, and Ward to Stony Stratford. With regard to weight there was little difference, Cannon being twelve stone eight pounds, and Ward twelve stone three pounds.

The celebrity of the battle, combined with a second treat—between Dick Curtis and Warren—produced many competitors for the honour and profit of fixing the scene of action, and at length the inhabitants of Leamington and Warwick wrote and made a liberal offer to the men, if they would fight in their district. Freedom from interruption was guaranteed, and the combatants had the choice of the race-course, or an enclosed ground adjoining a factory, which would contain 10,000 persons, and to which no person could obtain admission without leave. The latter spot was fixed upon, and the bustle on the road and in the town was fully equal to that which was witnessed on the occasion of Cannon’s last fight with Josh. Hudson. Cannon, accompanied by Mr. Hayne, and some friends, arrived at Leamington on Sunday evening, but being refused admission to the principal hotel there, they adjourned to Warwick, from whence, after dinner, they moved to Stratford-on-Avon. Ward arrived at Warwick the same evening, and took up his quarters at the Hare and Hounds. Preparations commenced early on Monday morning, but before they had proceeded far, the Mayor of Warwick intimated an intention of spoiling the sport. He said it would be too much to permit two mills during one mayoralty in his bailiwick, or he would be called the “Fighting Mayor.” On enquiry it turned out he was influenced in his determination by the clamours of certain spoilers of sport who are always busy on such occasions. It was known that his worship was fond of the art pugilistic, and would not interfere of his own free will. It was represented to him that the fact of the mill coming off at Warwick would materially benefit the tradespeople of the town, and other good reasons for non-interference were also brought forward, but in vain, and at length it was determined, in order to be on the safe side, that two stages should be erected, one in the factory-yard originally selected, and one on a spot not far distant, which was beyond the jurisdiction of the mayor; and as it was still thought that his worship would not, in reality, prove “rumbunctious,” it was ordered that the men should meet at first in the factory-yard, and only resort to the second stage in the event of necessity.

The bustle in Warwick on Monday night was something extraordinary; every house in the town was crammed to suffocation. Some of the fancy, who had been to Stratford, returned with the intelligence that Cannon was in the highest condition and spirits, but still they were shy of backing him. What little was done was at five to four on Ward.

On the morning of fighting both stages were complete, and around that in the meadow beyond the jurisdiction of the mayor, wagons were placed for the spectators. These vehicles were not required in the factory-yard, in which there was ample accommodation for every one to see without difficulty. At ten o’clock the mayor, accompanied by other magistrates, intimated his final resolution that no fight should take place in the borough, and consequently there was no alternative but to take advantage of the second stage. Mr. Hayne arrived in the town at twelve o’clock, and with the friends of Ward, proceeded to choose umpires and a referee. Sir John Radford and Mr. Mann officiated in the former capacity, while Mr. Osbaldeston, “the Old Squire,” obligingly accepted the office of referee. After this ceremony, a little more betting occurred, at five to four on Ward, and then a general move took place to the scene of action, which was about a mile from the town, on the Birmingham road. By the time the men arrived, there were about 12,000 persons present, including an unusual number of the patrician class. The heat was intense, the thermometer standing at 91 degrees in the shade. By half-past twelve the men were on the ground; they were in first-rate condition, but both were affected by the heat. They quickly mounted the stage, which was similar in form to that on which Spring and Langan fought at Chichester. Cannon was seconded by Tom Spring and Tom Cribb, while Ward was valeted by Tom Oliver and Jack Randall. On peeling, both seemed thin, and Cannon appeared to have aged considerably since his last encounter, at least there was not that ruddy plumpness observable on former occasions. Ward was fair and sleek as a greyhound, but there was a slight rash on his body, produced, no doubt, by the heat. He smiled, and had an air of confidence, which put his friends in high spirits. The toss for corners was won by Cannon, who was, of course, placed with his back to the sun.

At the moment of setting-to, there was a general bustle, and some confusion in the crowd, but order was soon restored, and all eyes were fixed on the stage. The men were brought to the scratch at five minutes to one, and the seconds and bottle-holders retired to their corners.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Cannon came up as if determined to lose no time in going to work. The position of Ward was firm; he seemed armed at all points for defence. Cannon advanced towards his man, broke ground, and hit right and left. Ward stopped him, retreated, and smiled. Cannon followed him, when Ward let fly with his right, and caught Cannon over the eye, and drew first blood. Cannon still busy, came in, but was stopped with a left-handed hit in the throat, and a ruby tinge was again visible. A sharp rally followed, Ward retreating, stopping, and nobbing his man as he came in. At length they closed and, after a short struggle, went down together. (Cheers for Ward, who decidedly had the best of the round.)

2.—Cannon came up on the bustling system, and tried for an opening. Ward stopped him right and left, and, stepping backward a pace, jobbed him as he approached, with his right hand, over the left eye. Cannon, not dismayed, took this compliment kindly, and returned slightly on Jem’s cheek. A sharp rally followed, in which Cannon bustled to his man, and got to a close. Ward twisted his leg between the legs of Cannon, and threw him heavily, adding his own weight to the severity of the fall.

3.—On coming to the scratch, Ward let fly with his left; it was cleverly stopped by Cannon. Cannon then bored in, and Ward retired fighting. As he retreated he succeeded in putting in two facers, but was at length bored down at the rails, and Cannon fell over him. Ward had a lucky escape from his head coming in contact with the board which skirted the stage, in this round. Had this accident happened, in all probability his fate would have been decided. The chance of such injuries forms one of the strongest objections to stage-fighting.

4.—On coming up it was seen that Ward had not received a blow which left a mark. He smiled, and stood to his guard, while Cannon, all energy, rushed to the attack. Cannon made a right-handed hit, but Ward was awake, stopped it, and drew back. Cannon immediately rushed in, and after a short struggle both fell, Ward under.

5.—Cannon again endeavoured to take the lead, but Ward was too quick, and delivered several facers. Cannon, not discouraged, continued his assault in gallant style, and finally Ward, in endeavouring to escape a right-handed blow, slipped down on his hands. This was claimed by Spring as the first knock-down blow, but we did not view it in that light.

6.—Cannon renewed the bustling system, but fought wildly, and was evidently exhausting himself by his own exertions. He missed several well-intentioned blows, and as he followed his man he was met with a nozzler. A sharp rally followed, in which Ward received a severe blow on the side of the occiput, and finally slipped down close to the posts.

7.—Both came to the scratch panting. Cannon hit out right and left with great wildness. Ward retreated to the corner of the stage, and Cannon closed in to him. Ward met him as he advanced with a facer, but was unable to break away. In this situation they both stood for a few seconds. Ward fibbed slightly; when at length Cannon threw him heavily. (Shouts for Cannon; and a bet of £15 to £10 was taken by a good judge.)

8.—Both men were the worse for their efforts in the last round. The excessive heat of the sun seemed to oppress them, and, on coming to the scratch, Cannon, for the first time, sparred cautiously, while Ward waited for him open-mouthed. At last Cannon broke ground, and hit Ward under the ear. Jem retreated, but Cannon fought to a rally. In a close Ward put in a severe muzzler, threw Cannon a heavy fall, and at the same time dropped upon him.

9.—On Cannon being lifted to his second’s knee, the mischievous effects of the last fall were obvious; he appeared quite groggy, and was evidently much exhausted. On time being called, however, he came up to the scratch with his accustomed game. He lost no time in rushing to his man, but Ward stopped him with a tremendous blow on the side of his nut. Ward then retreated to a corner of the ring. Cannon followed him, and as it were fell into his arms. In this state they stood for some seconds, and both were apparently exhausted. Ward smiled, and attempted to fib, but his hand fell almost powerless. At length Cannon dropped nearly senseless, and Ward, unable to stand, fell upon him. It was now clear that the game was nearly up, and five to one was offered on Ward, but not taken.

10.—Cribb and Spring both exerted themselves to restore their man to animation, but he seemed quite stupefied, and came up reeling as if tipsy. Ward saw his advantage, and instantly came up, hit him right and left, on each side of the head, and on the nose, and the poor fellow dropped to rise no more. He was immediately lifted on his second’s knee, but was deaf to all encouragement. His head dropped powerless on his shoulder, and the carmine was seen trickling from his nose and mouth. Loud shouts of congratulation burst from Ward’s friends, and he walked to the side of the stage and shook hands with several of them. He afterwards approached Cannon, and took him by the hand, but the latter was insensible to his kindly feeling. Ward then descended from the stage, and mounting his straw tile, he was placed on a grey pony, and was conducted out of the ring in triumph. A surgeon who was on the ground mounted the stage and attended to Cannon, but a full half hour elapsed before his senses were restored, and he was then so weak that it became necessary to lift him into the carriage of Mr. Hayne, which was drawn up at the side of the stage to receive him. The fight lasted but ten minutes, and the amount of money which changed hands upon the result was immense.

REMARKS.—This battle afforded but little scope for observation, and still less in the way of a pugilistic treat to the amateurs who were present. Cannon, from the outset, pursued his bustling system, and seemed to think that upon that alone depended his chance of success. By his exertions in this way, however, from the excessive heat of the day, he only tended to expedite his defeat; and we have no hesitation in saying that his final overthrow was more occasioned by exhaustion than by punishment. In fact, on looking at him while in a senseless state, there appeared to be no very great severity in the blows which he had received. His principal injuries were to be attributed to his falls, which were certainly very heavy. Ward fought throughout with great steadiness, presence of mind, and caution, and may be said to have won without a scratch; but, like Cannon, we do not think he could have stood up much longer, notwithstanding the excellence of his condition. He had two severe falls, but received only one blow of any importance, which was under the left ear.

The friends of Ward, in the course of the evening, sent up a message to Mr. Hayne, at the Swan Hotel, that Ward should fight any man in England for £500 a-side. Spring, being present, immediately waited on Ward’s backers, at the Warwick Arms, and said Brown should fight Ward for the sum mentioned; but Brown was objected to on account of his weight. Spring then said he would fight Ward for £500 a-side, and come within a stone of Ward’s weight, and he would put down immediately a hundred sovereigns to make a deposit. This challenge was not accepted; when Spring observed, Langan should fight Ward for £500 a-side. However, after some conversation on the subject, the parties retired without making any match.

Harry Holt took a benefit at the Fives Court, on Friday, the 22nd of July, when Ward was introduced. Jem ascended the stage amidst loud approbation, followed by Harry Holt, who, in a neat, appropriate speech, introduced the belt, which was put round the body of Ward by Oliver. The belt consisted of the blue and crimson colours worn at the late fight, bound with the skin of a tiger. The clasp or buckle was made of highly-polished steel, encircled with emblematical designs, and in the middle of the clasp was a heart, worked with gold, on which was engraved the following inscription:—“This belt was presented to James Ward, at the Fives Court, St. Martin’s Street, Leicester Fields, on the 22nd of July, in commemoration of his scientific and manly conquest of Thomas Cannon, at Stanfield Park, Warwick, on the 19th of July, 1825. This battle, at the present time, entitles him to the high and distinguished appellation of the British Champion.” Ward had scarcely got the belt on, when he said to a friend with a smile, “I have got it, and I mean to keep it.” Ward, on meeting with Cannon, shook hands with him, and asked him how he felt himself. “Very well,” was the reply; “the heat licked me, Jem, and not the blows. The hits that passed between us could neither hurt you nor me, Jem.” “I feel rather stiffish,” observed Ward: “it was hot, indeed; and at one time I had no power to strike. They all talk of fighting me now; but I shall not enter the ring for twelve months. Let some of the big ones fight—Peter Crawley and Brown; but, Cannon, if you wish to fight me again, I will fight you when you like.” “I am very much obliged to you, Jem, for the preference; and if I can raise the blunt, you may depend upon it I will make another match.” Harry Holt returned thanks on the conclusion of his set-to with Ward; and the court was cleared.

A great muster of the heavy betters took place at Tattersall’s, on Monday, July 25, to receive and pay on the above milling event. Considerable surprise was manifested throughout the circle, when the following letters were read by the stakeholder:—

“DEAR SIR,—

“Mr. Hayne has desired me to request you will not deliver up the stakes of the fight between Cannon and Ward until the umpires and referee meet to decide the fairness of the battle.

“Yours, etc. “W. A. CARTER.

“_Furnival’s Inn, July 25, 1825._”

* * * * *

“_Furnival’s Inn, July 25, 1825._

“SIR,—

“In consequence of serious doubts expressed by Mr. Hayne of the character of the late fight between Thomas Cannon and James Ward, and those doubts having been confirmed by others, I feel it my duty as umpire on the part of Cannon, both for the sake of Mr. Hayne and the sporting world, to request that you will retain in your hands the stakes until a meeting shall have taken place between the umpire of Ward, the referee (Mr. Osbaldeston), and myself. The articles specify, ‘that the stakes are to be given up according to the award of the umpires and referee;’ and no award having been made on the spot, I am perhaps justified in begging this short delay. In the interim I shall expect that any evidence which can be produced to sustain Mr. Hayne’s doubts will be brought forward. By Monday next our decision will, no doubt, be accomplished.

“I have the honour to be, etc. “J. R.”

The delay required, “as to something wrong,” was objected to by almost every amateur present; it being asserted there was no necessity for time, as it was the general opinion that a squarer fight had never taken place in the annals of boxing. After some little argument in the subscription room on the subject, it was decided that, as the umpires and referee made no objection at the conclusion of the battle, Ward was entitled to the stakes, and the stakeholder had a right to give up the £1,000 to the backers of Ward. Cannon was present, and stated that he had lost the battle against his will; and, as he went £200 in the battle-money, he desired, at all events, that sum might be given up to Ward. An indemnity was offered to the stakeholder, should any legal proceedings be brought against him. The stakeholder, with much promptness, immediately gave up the stakes, to the satisfaction of all sporting men. In consequence of the decision of the stakeholder, some thousands of pounds changed masters in the course of an hour. The conduct of the stakeholder prevented shuffling in any part of the kingdom.

It was generally expected that Jem’s easy conquest of Tom Cannon would at once bring forward Peter Crawley, to redeem the promise he had made in print to make a match with the winner. Peter, however, remained silent; nor did he make any response when Ward issued a challenge to fight “any man in the world” for £200 or £300 a-side. It was at one time thought that a match would be made between Ward and Tom Spring—a “tiff” having taken place between the champions,—but when the thing was proposed Spring stated that he would not re-enter the ring, and Ward said he would not fight Spring unless the latter would confine himself to thirteen stone. No other claimant at this juncture appeared to dispute Ward’s title to the championship. Wishing to enjoy some retirement from milling, and, like a star belonging to another stage, to make good benefits in the provinces, he issued the following notice of his future intentions:—

“_To the Editor of_ ‘PIERCE EGAN’S LIFE IN LONDON.’

“SIR,—

“It is my intention to start on a sparring tour for a few months. I beg you will do me the favour, through the medium of your journal, to inform those who have a wish to meet me in the P.R., that I shall not be at leisure for seven or eight months. In the interim, the various aspirants to the championship may contend with each other, and I shall be happy, at the expiration of the time specified, to accommodate the winner of the main.

“I am, Sir, yours respectfully, “JAMES WARD.

“_Mulberry Tree, Commercial Road, July 26, 1825._”

In _Bell’s Life_ of the 2nd of July, 1826, the turn-up with Sampson is stated to have been the result of a quarrel as to the division of the proceeds of some sparring exhibition given by the erewhile rivals at Norwich and elsewhere. It says: “Ten determined rounds were fought, in which as much mischief was done as in many of those fights which have cost a hundred miles trot to witness. The superiority of Ward was, however, conspicuous throughout. He met Sampson’s fierce rushes with coolness and scientific precision, drew his cork, and floored him in every assault. Sampson succeeded in planting some heavy facers, and was even with Ward in the claret way; but still he was overmatched, and although he proved himself no mean opponent, he was constrained, as he had been before, to knock under to one who may be fairly pronounced the most accomplished boxer of the age.”

In the same paper, of the following week, a letter from Sampson appears, denying the accuracy of the above account, and stating that it was not caused by a quarrel, but was the result of a mutual agreement to see which was the better man, and that it took place, with the gloves, at York. Sampson further affirmed that he had the best of it throughout, and that he intended again to enter the ring with Ward, when the public would have an opportunity of judging which was entitled to pre-eminence. This intention, luckily for the “Birmingham Youth,” he never carried out, for in two months after he made a match with Ned Neale, the Streatham Youth, an inferior boxer to Ward, by whom he was defeated in eleven rounds, occupying sixty-six minutes. (See Life of NED NEALE).

Seventeen months had elapsed, notwithstanding all his challenges and industry to get a job, before Ward met a customer in the person of Peter Crawley. During this period Jem was viewed as champion of England. The backers of Ward having consented that he should fight for £100 a-side, a match was made between them; and on Tuesday, January 2, 1827, the battle was decided upon Royston Heath, Cambridgeshire. In twenty-six minutes, occupying eleven rounds, the title of champion passed to Peter Crawley, as will be found in the memoir of Peter. The backers of Ward were so satisfied with his brave conduct, although in defeat, that at Holt’s benefit, two days after the fight, at the Tennis Court, they offered to make another match for £1,000. Peter, however, refused, said he would not fight any more, and left the championship open to those boxers who wished to fight for it.

In the same paper with the speech of Crawley at the Tennis Court appears a letter from Ward, in which, after regretting that Peter would not give him another chance, and declaring that to the accidental blow in the second round his defeat was attributable, he says, his friends will back him against any man in England for £200 to £300 a-side. He concludes by saying, “I still hold the champion’s belt, and certainly shall not resign it to any man who will not fight for it.”

On Tuesday, the 6th of January, 1827, Ward took a benefit at the Tennis Court, which was crowded by his patrons, who then bore testimony to their approbation of his manly conduct in his fight with Peter Crawley. Ward was anxious to get up a fight with Brown, of Bridgnorth, but as the latter would not come to the scratch under £500, for the present the match went off, Ward’s friends not being strong in the shiners to that extent. The challenge, however, was again sent by Brown, and accepted at the price by Ward, in May, but went off after much dispute on the point of fighting on a stage, Brown declining to fight on turf. To this Ward’s backers would not allow him to agree. Their objection was that a stage fight with so big a man would be such a manifest disadvantage to Ward, that it would be throwing away too great a chance. Brown, they urged, would fight all fifteen stone, while Ward would be twelve stone four pounds to twelve stone seven pounds; and it must be obvious that on a stage a heavier body propelled against a lighter must increase the danger to the latter, as the chances were that the lesser man would more frequently come in contact with the rails, planks, or skirting boards, and thus suffer twofold punishment from blows and contusions. At a meeting at Tom Cribb’s, in April, 1827, they said, “It was true that Ward himself had no objection to the stage, that he would as soon fight Brown there, or even in a saw-pit, and it was only to be lamented that Brown did not show a similar spirit. It was their duty to curb the natural and courageous impulses of Ward’s heart, and to mix up, on his behalf, prudence with valour. The stake to be fought for was not only great in a pecuniary point of view, but great in point of glory, for the winner would be champion of England. This was a prize of too much magnitude to be treated lightly, or to be risked without due foresight, and without equality in point of advantage.” Cribb, on the part of Brown, could not make the match except on the terms authorised by Brown himself, and therefore nothing was done. A long angry correspondence, not worth preserving, ensued, in the course of which Brown offered to stake £320 to Ward’s £300, if Ward would fight on a stage. Ward, on the other hand, offered to fight for £100 a-side on a stage, or for £300, or even £1,000 a-side, on turf. This was declined by Brown. Finally, the question of superiority was decided in another way. Phil. Sampson (thrice defeated by Ward), challenged Brown, and beat him, April 28, 1828, after forty-two hard-fought rounds in forty-nine minutes. This, in the judgment of those who can get “a line” by the comparison of performances, set at rest the question of the respective merits of Brown and Ward.

_Bell’s Life_ remarks on this fight: “Brown turned out a blank in the wheel of fortune. His main dependence seems to be on bodily strength and a terrific hit with the right hand. These requisites may be fearful when opposed to a novice, but with a scientific professor they prove of little avail.” These remarks must convince any one that the big man of Bridgnorth would have proved a chopping-block for the skilful and ready Jem Ward.

An accident happened at this period which had nearly deprived the ring of Jem’s services. On the day after the battle on which Ned Neale (see Life of NEALE) a second time conquered Jem Burn (November 13, 1827), the defeated man took a benefit at the Tennis Court, Windmill Street. The principal sparring bout was between Ward and the gigantic Bob Burn. The fine science of Jem was greatly admired, and he jumped in and out, nobbing the big one with both hands till Bob was so hit to a stand-still as to hold on the rail for support. Another round was called for, when Jem drove Burn, hitting away rapidly; Burn’s back came forcibly against the rail of the stage, which broke, and he fell backwards to the floor of the Court. Jem, who was in the act of delivering, pitched after him head foremost, and every spectator feared a disastrous result. Jem, who was lying partly upon Burn, was first picked up. He was partially stunned by the fall, but soon recovered, and said that, except a sprained feeling in the back of his neck, and a barking of his shins over the lower rail which added to the ugliness of his descent, he was scarcely hurt. Burn escaped with even less injury—“a surprising fact,” says the reporter, “seeing he weighs sixteen stone. That neither man was killed, or had broken bones, is astonishing.”

We have seen Jem engaged in all sorts of correspondence with leading pugilists, especially Simon Byrne and Big Brown, when, at the beginning of 1828, a challenge appeared from the once-renowned Jack Carter, the “Lancashire Champion,” a former opponent of Tom Spring. Jem had been on a tour in Lancashire, and his Liverpool patrons testified their esteem by giving him a bumper-benefit at the Gothic Rooms, at the close of the year, and he, together with Dick Curtis, Young Dutch Sam, and Stockman, reaped a rare harvest in that metropolis of the north at the commencement of 1828. Being now in capital feather and high favour, he returned to London, and on Friday, the 28th of February, 1828, a strong muster of the fancy took place at the Castle Tavern, to witness the arrangements for the match between him and Jack Carter. Jem, who had come up from Liverpool to answer Carter’s challenge in person, and who looked extremely well, was early at the scratch, and was soon after joined by Carter. Jem said he was ready to post the pony forthwith, according to Carter’s proposition, to fight for a hundred; but Jack’s friend having, on reflection, backed out of his original pledge, and all of a sudden discovered that he liked Ward too well to lay his money against him, poor Jack was thrown on his beam end. In this dilemma he proposed to match himself for £50, and trust to fortune to enable him to get the goldfinches. Ward objected to fight for so small a sum, on the ground of its letting him down from that station in the ring which he had hitherto maintained. When being hard pressed, however, and entreated as a particular favour to oblige his customer, his good nature would not permit him to resist, and, to the satisfaction of all present, articles were drawn up and signed, by which it was agreed that the men should fight for £50 a-side, in a twenty-four feet roped ring, half-minute time, on the 27th of May, within a hundred miles of London. Ward then offered to fight Simon Byrne, of Glasgow, who had been “chaffy,” for £250 to £200, and after this took his departure for Liverpool, where he had at this period many staunch friends.

Carter had not fought since his battle with Spring, in 1819, and, at the time of his present match, was thirty-eight years of age. In this respect of course Ward had an immense advantage, his years only numbering twenty-seven. In height and weight Carter had the advantage, in the proportions of five feet eleven inches, and thirteen stone six pounds, against five feet nine inches and a half, and twelve stone seven pounds. In science Ward was known to be A1, and of course the odds in his favour were very considerable. The fight took place on Shepperton Range, on the 27th of May, 1828, in the presence of a large muster of the fancy. Ward was seconded by Phil. Sampson and Dick Curtis, and Carter by Tom Oliver and Young Dutch Sam. On stripping, Ward was in fine condition. Carter also was in robust health, but his corporation partook a little too much of civic importance.

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Both men looked “unutterable things,” and each approached the other as if perfectly conscious he had his work to do. Ward worked his guard, and poised himself on his toes in his customary form, ready to let fly as an opportunity might offer. Carter stood erect, hands back on his breast, rather on the defensive than otherwise. Some time elapsed in mutual caution, Carter getting away, and keeping out of distance. At last, after nearly four minutes had elapsed, Carter threw out his left, but Ward was awake and stopped him. The blow was too short for effect. Twice did Carter try the same manœuvre, with as little success. Ward now crept in, and caught Carter with his right on the side of the head. Another little pause, when Ward again got in, and hit left and right. Carter now fought to a rally, but hit wildly, while Ward showed great quickness and tact in in-fighting, planting a heavy blow on Carter’s mouth with his left. Carter returned slightly on Ward’s cheek with his left, and in the close was thrown.

2.—More caution on the part of Carter, while Ward worked his left for a shy. Carter hit out with his left, but it was short, and stopped, as was another trial of the same sort. Ward now got within distance, planted his one, two, and three, and catching Carter round the neck with his left, hit up with fearful precision, gave him another deep cut on the lip, and floored him. (Five to one on Ward.)

3.—Carter came up bleeding from the lip, and flushed in the face. Jem was ready, and all on the tip-toe for mischief. Carter again tried his favourite left hand, but was prettily stopped. Jem made a feint; but, although Carter left himself open, he did not go in. Carter kept away for a time, and got away from a well-intentioned smack from Ward’s left, and smiled. At last Jem stood on no ceremony, but rushed in right and left, jobbing well on Carter’s nob. Carter fought with him, but wildly, and received a fresh visitation to his mouth. In the close for the fall, Carter was thrown over on his head.

4.—Each stopped a left-handed compliment. Carter at length went in left and right, in rather a scrambling manner and open-handed. Jem drew back and jobbed him severely on the mug. Carter caught him round the neck, but Jem was alive to his opportunity, and his in-fighting was excellent; he hit up well, and in the close threw Carter a beautiful cross-buttock, falling heavily upon him.

5.—Carter stopped Jem’s left with great quickness. Jem neatly rushed in with his one, two, and then drawing back, hit up in admirable style. Carter broke away, but Jem was with him, and counter-hits were exchanged. Jem now made himself up for execution, and having tried his right at Carter’s body, got to a rally, hammering away with all his might. Carter stood manfully to him, and popped in a good left-hander on the side of the nose. This roused Jem’s choler; he rattled in, delivering left and right, and hitting up. A long struggle ensued for the fall, during which Jem fibbed with great quickness. Carter got down, Ward falling easily upon him.

6.—Carter hit short at the body, and stopped Jem’s right and left with excellent precision. He then planted a slight blow on Jem’s nob. Jem, all alive, saw his opening, and hit away left and right with the rapidity of lightning, and the activity of a two-year old. His execution was wonderful, and Carter’s left eye was puffed to a close; still Jem peppered away, until at last Carter fell on his knees somewhat groggy.

7.—Carter came up game, but Jem gave him no time for reflection. He at once rushed to work, delivering with terrific precision, left and right. Carter was wild in his returns, and on closing was dropped.

8.—(Thirty to one on Ward.) Jem jobbed severely with his right, and then with his left, drawing more crimson. Carter fought manfully with him, but without precision. Jem was busy at in-fighting, and in getting away fell on his back, while Carter remained standing.

9.—Carter stopped Ward’s left and right with good science, but Ward was quick upon him, made a good left-handed job, and was ready to let fly, but Carter kept his distance. Carter made a good stop with his right, but left himself open, and Ward, alive at every point, went in to work left and right, and again hit up with wonderful rapidity. Carter fell on his knees, the claret visible from all parts of his face, his left eye completely dark.

10.—Carter came up strong on his legs, though winded, and stopped Jem’s left. Jem then closed for in-fighting, and hit as he liked with telling effect, and Carter was grassed without a hope.

11.—All in favour of Ward, who had it his own way and dropped his man, after he had hung for a short time on the ropes.

12.—Carter was not to be stalled off; he hit short with his left. Ward stopped a well-intentioned delivery, but in a second attempt he was not so successful, as he caught Carter’s left on the nose, and a slight effusion of blood followed. Jem now rushed in, and catching Carter round the neck, jobbed and hit up repeatedly. Carter’s arm got entangled in the ropes, and he tried to grapple Jem; but Jem was too leary, and continued to pepper him in the face till he fell.

13.—There was now a general cry for Carter to be taken away; but he would not have it, and again came up strong on his legs. He bored in wildly, and Ward jobbed him left and right in every direction. The deliveries were dreadful, and at length poor Jack was hit down.

14.—Carter came up in a melancholy plight. (Cries of “Take him away.”) Ward went in to finish, hitting left and right, and cutting away without leaving Carter the shadow of a shade of a chance. Carter down.

15.—(Renewed cries of “Take him away.”) Carter came up, and was immediately dropped.

16.—Jem delivered right and left, and hit Carter down weak and groggy.

17.—Spring and Peter Crawley, who were time-keepers, now entered the ring, and entreated Carter to give in, but he would not, and having received additional punishment, was dropped by a flush hit in the face. It was now clear that to prolong the fight would be inexcusable, and the referee entreated Carter to desist, as there was no chance in his favour. “Oh!” said the gallant fellow, “I can foight longer yet; there’s nought the matter with me.” The _primâ facie_ evidence of the contrary was so obvious, however, that his seconds being convinced it would be inhuman to suffer him to be further exposed to the severity of Ward’s hitting, gave in for him, to the general satisfaction of the spectators, who, although they could not but admire Carter’s game, felt that the seconds performed their duty in the humane course they had adopted. The fight lasted thirty-two minutes, and Ward, on shaking hands with his vanquished opponent, generously forewent a claim to a purse of £5 3_s._ 6_d._, which had been collected previous to the fight. Such was the favourable impression which Carter’s conduct had made in the ring, too, that a further subscription was made, which increased the original sum to £16.

REMARKS.—Few remarks are necessary where the moves were all one way. Ward had the lead throughout, and may be said to have won without a scratch; in fact, we do not think he ever had an easier, but we must add, a gamer customer. Youth and science completely served age, and poor Jack showed that in matching himself with such a man as Ward he had suffered his imagination to get the better of his judgment. His punishment was entirely about the head, and he walked from the ring with great firmness, being still quite steady on his legs, a proof that he had paid every attention to his training.

Some few months after his defeat of Carter, Simon Byrne, then “Irish Champion,” challenged Ward to fight upon a stage. To this Ward’s friends could not consent, contending that a champion was not bound to grant any unusual terms to his challengers, and that the modern and fairest practice was to fight on turf. After some correspondence, Ward gave way, and a match was made, to come off on the 8th of September, but went off by a default of Simon’s backers, who forfeited £50 to Ward. A second match was made at Tom Spring’s, on the 1st of October, to fight on a stage for £150 a-side, on the first Tuesday in February, 1829. This also went off, and a third was made for £100, to be decided on March 10, 1829, Byrne consenting to Ward’s terms. This event proved another shadow on Jem’s career, which, were we not honest chroniclers, we would have omitted, as other biographers have done. By this _suppressio veri_, however, men’s lives cease to “point a moral,” however they may “adorn a tale.”

The 10th of March, 1829, arrived in due course, being nearly one year from the first challenge. We will not trust our own pen on this occasion, but rather give the account fresh and fiery as it came forth at that period.[38] It is headed thus:—

“HOAX UPON THE FANCY.—JEM WARD AND SIMON BYRNE.—DISGRACEFUL SCENE AT LEICESTER.

“Our readers are all aware that the fight between Jem Ward (the champion of England) and Simon Byrne (the champion of Ireland, although acting under Scotch auspices, for he was generously backed by certain liberals at Greenock) was fixed to take place on Tuesday last, at the Cricket Ground, Leicester. It would be tedious to recall to the recollection of our readers all the ‘fine spun’ correspondence which preceded this match, or to reiterate the terms of abuse in which each man addressed his opponent. It ought not to be forgotten that Ward, or his friends for him, assumed the title of ‘Champion of England,’ and that the would-be Champion of England—the most accomplished boxer of the age, and the darling of the East—was publicly charged by Irish Byrne with being a coward! To the honour of the British ring this could not be endured, and, at last, out came Ward’s friends to back him for £150. We pass by the disinclination of the Wardites to go towards Glasgow, and the spirit with which Byrne conceded, and agreed to fight within a hundred miles of London; but we cannot forget the avidity with which Ward’s friends grasped a forfeit of £50, because Byrne’s deposit came a day too late, nor avoid contrasting the conduct of the northern fancy with that of those of the south, by reminding our readers that the distinct request of Byrne’s friends was, that no such advantage should be taken of Ward. Suffice it to say that, after the forfeit of £50, the match was renewed for £100 a-side, and that Jem went into training, determined, as he said, and his real friends anticipated, on taking ample vengeance on the bouncing Patlander, who had dared to brand him with the epithet of coward. Indeed, so strong was the provocation that, many of Ward’s admirers looked on nothing more certain than that, in the very first round, Byrne would have been burst like a mealy potato.

“The morning of Monday was ushered in by much bustle at Leicester. The Fair Play Club, Tom Oliver, the commissary of the ring and his _suite_, the _élite_ of the fancy, and the most distinguished amateurs thronged the streets. Other matches were made, and all appeared in high spirits; ‘but,’ says Mr. Vincent Dowling, ‘during all these scenes, we were surprised to observe the apathy which prevailed in the betting circles: scarcely a bet was offered, and nothing less than five to two on Ward would be taken, while few seemed disposed to risk such odds. There was, in truth, a mysterious backwardness on all hands, which we could not comprehend.’

“The morning of Tuesday at last broke, and a finer day was never witnessed at this season of the year. Every hour brought fresh accessions to the visitors in the town, and horsemen and carriages came rattling in from every point of the compass. Among the former were most of the distinguished members of the hunts in the neighbourhood of Melton Mowbray, whose scarlet costume and high-mettled cattle as they dashed through the streets gave a sporting feature to the assemblage peculiarly in character. The bustle and crowd in Leicester increased to a ferment: hundreds were assembled in front of the sporting houses. All calculated on a glorious day’s sport, and in turn ventured an opinion on the merits of the combatants; but still scarcely a betting man would open his mouth, either to offer or take the odds on the event.

“The Fair Play Club’s ropes and stakes were pitched by Tom Oliver, and a capital ring formed in the cricket ground. Anxiety now prevailed for the arrival of the men; that on the part of Ward was soon dissipated by his entering from a gate at the lower end of the ground in a carriage drawn by four horses. He alighted amidst the congratulations of his friends, and was conducted to the house of a private gentleman, which opened by a back way to the cricket ground. Simon Byrne arrived at an early hour in a fly with Tom Reynolds, and was soon attended by Tom Spring, who had agreed to act as his second.

“An interference on the part of the magistrates disturbed at this time the arrangements of the ring, and Tom Oliver took up the stakes and toddled to Humberston, within ten miles of Leicester. At the same time that Oliver received his directions, the post-boys of Ward’s carriage were also desired to draw up to the door, for the purpose of taking him to the ground. So far not a hint had escaped that any impediment existed to the fair decision of the fight according to the articles.

“During all these arrangements a number of gentlemen, and several persons connected with the betting circles, were congregated as a sort of council in a garden behind the house in which Ward was. In this garden was a privy, and to this privy Ward was seen to proceed, attended by Peter Crawley, who seemed to keep a steady eye on his motions. We spoke to him as he came out: he said he was very well, and again returned to the house. Shortly after this Crawley came forth by himself, and a consultation of a private nature took place between him, the gentleman who brought Ward down, and one or two other persons, which ended in Spring, the stakeholder, and the reporters of the London papers, being called into a private room. Peter Crawley now said he could no longer withhold the fact that Ward was unfit to fight, and had determined not to enter the ring that day. Had a thunder-bolt burst among the auditors it could not have produced more astonishment or dismay than this declaration. Crawley went on to say that Ward had told him he had passed a pint of blood on his last visit to the garden. To this all were disinclined to give credit, and Crawley, who saw he was on tender ground, did not persevere in this assertion, but remarked he was sure something was wrong, and that, in fact, Ward could not win the fight on the one hand, and would not lose it on the other, from a sense of duty to those gentlemen who had behaved so kindly to him. He then talked of some message which Ward had received on the previous day, the nature of which he did not know, and in fact spoke so undecidedly that no clear understanding could be formed on the subject. Ward was then called in and interrogated, when he repeated Crawley’s story of the blood, and said he was not fit to fight for twopence. He denied having received or having been promised any money to lose the fight, but said he knew some of his friends would lose thousands by the result, and he thought it was better not to put either his backers on the one hand, or those who had taken the odds on the other, in jeopardy. It was in vain to endeavour to elicit more: all he added was, that ‘he could not win, and would not lose.’ As the only alternative, it was then determined by his backers that he should forfeit the money down.

“Thus ended this extraordinary bubble. Ward was left to the enjoyment of his brandy and water; and those who had an interest in the remaining sports of the day set out for the ring, around which twelve or fourteen thousand persons of all degrees had already assembled, including at least two thousand horsemen, all of whom, being ignorant of Ward’s conduct, were anxiously awaiting his arrival. Upon this affair observation would be superfluous, as all must agree that it admits of no apology, although Ward, having got himself into the hobble, perhaps did that which, under the circumstances, was best. It was a question with him, too, whether he would have been permitted to lose the fight, for there was a party present who were backing him, and who, their suspicions being aroused, would not have failed to manifest their feelings by acts of violence.”

Thus far the leading sporting paper of the time. Heavy was the visitation on Ward for his misconduct from all quarters. His backers left him, his friends forsook him, the Fair Play Club expunged his name from their list, and the supporters of the ring, to a man, turned their backs upon him. His name was never heard until the August of the same year, when a gentleman proposed to back an anonymous person against Byrne for £500 a-side. The challenge was accepted by Byrne’s friends, but they barred Ward; and as the party alluded to turned out to be Ward, the challenge went off amidst groans and hootings. Byrne, however, got “chaffy,” and offered to have a turn-up with Ward wherever he met him, for love, not for money. Ward, in reply, insisted on fighting for a sum, and Byrne retorted by an historical sketch of Ward’s conduct and character, not in the brightest colours, concluding with a threat to “treat him as a street ruffian” whenever he met him.

This nettled Jem so excessively that he answered in a letter from Southampton, and offered to fight guineas to pounds, and as Byrne objected to meet him in the ring, he said, in conclusion, “I will fight him in a saw-pit or on the outside of a coach.” More letters of the same kind followed in their turn, Byrne still taunting Ward, but declining to meet him in the ring. Ward now found a strong advocate in a party who wrote under the signature of an “Old Patron of the Ring,” and public opinion took a slight turn in his favour.

On St. Patrick’s day, 1830, Simon Byrne had a benefit at the Tennis Court, and took the opportunity, being in high spirits and excellent humour, to propose a fight with Ward. The challenge was eagerly accepted, and the men met the next evening at the Castle to “post the coal” and settle the preliminaries. Ward and Byrne shook hands and took a drop together to make things right, after which it was agreed that the match should be made for £200 a-side. A previous battle between Byrne and M’Kay coming in the way, it was agreed that Jem and Simon should have their grand turn-up four months afterwards. The second deposit was made good on the Friday following, when Ward expressed great anxiety to prove, by his conduct in this contest, his wish to secure the respect and confidence of the sporting world.

The fatal fight between M’Kay and Simon Byrne came off on Wednesday, the 2nd of June, and terminated in the defeat and death of poor Sandy M’Kay, and the consequent arrest of Byrne. The following Wednesday had been appointed for making the third deposit on the match between Ward and Byrne. The friends of both parties attended with the money, but Simon’s backers suggested that the stakes should be drawn, as it was not decent to carry on arrangements for another fight while one pugilist was lying dead, and the victor, a party to the present match, in prison on a charge of manslaughter. Ward’s friend, however, claimed forfeit if the cash was not put down, and Simon’s party thereupon paid up the deposit, the match still standing for October the 5th. Ward, however, in the next week, despite his greedy adviser, agreed to withdraw the stakes, receiving £10 for his trouble, and the match was altogether off, thereby, as was said at the time, obtaining by his conduct the approbation of every honest man. Simon Byrne stood his trial, was acquitted, and duly feasted and dinnered by the sporting world. Ward renewed the challenge immediately for £100, but £200 was required by Byrne, and much ink-shedding, but no battle, ensued. Pugilistic protocols again passed between the parties, but still, as Byrne wanted £200, and Ward could not get it, the fight was as far off as ever, and thus ended the year 1830, Ward having now rested three years without a round.

At last, however, but not without another preliminary misunderstanding, the match which “_did_ come off” was made at the Castle, Holborn, on Tuesday, March 17, 1831 (St. Patrick’s Day). The tin was posted, the articles formulated and signed, and the whereabouts fixed. Ward was to fight Byrne in a twenty-four feet ring, half-minute time, for £200 a-side, on Tuesday, the 12th of July, within a hundred miles of London, on the road to Liverpool. There was a clause, that if any money should be offered for the honour of the combat it should be equally divided between the men. Such an offer was made from Warwick to the amount of £60, and accepted; and, in consequence, the men received orders to shape their course in that direction—Ward from Liverpool, where he had taken his exercise, and Byrne from Norwood, where, under the surveillance of Ned Neale, he had taken some degree of training. That he had not done sufficient work, the following remarks, taken from _Bell’s Life in London_, will sufficiently show:—

“Both men were far beyond their weight when the match was made, topping, perhaps, not less than fifteen stone each, and to the reduction of this Ward immediately applied himself, by constant exercise; while Byrne remained in Ireland till within six weeks of the day of action, without taking any steps to qualify himself for the important task he had in view, and at that time arrived in London with all his work before him. That this was imprudent no judge will deny, and the consequence was, that a week before fighting he was full a stone heavier than he ought to have been; and even on the Thursday previous to entering the ring he took a sweat, which reduced the strength he then possessed and gave a shock to his system which common prudence should have induced him to avoid. On Sunday also he got drenched to the skin in a shower of rain, and caught a cold, from the effects of which he laboured on entering the ring. Ward, on the contrary, neglected nothing which either sense or judgment could dictate, and could not have been in better trim. We state these things as matters of fact, forming some apology in the minds of Byrne’s friends for his defeat; but we have no hesitation in saying, had he been as well as skill and strict training could make him, he would have had no chance against the matchless tactics of his antagonist, who fully realized the high opinion that had been formed of him.”

It being known that Warwick was the fixture, an extraordinary number of patrons of milling betook themselves to that celebrated fistic locality several days before that appointed for the contest. On the Saturday, however, a meeting of “beaks” took place, at which it was resolved to stay proceedings, either in the town or county, and a polite justice called upon Tom Spring, who was in attendance on Byrne, to inform him of the determination of those in authority. It being clear that their worships were in earnest, a council of war was held, when it was determined that as the inhabitants of Warwick had given the men £60, the affair should be settled as near as possible to the town, without infringing upon the bailiwick of those who had interfered. Accordingly the neighbourhood of Stratford-on-Avon, a very few miles distant, was selected, and in a field at Willeycutt an admirable ring was formed by Tom Oliver and his then assistant, the renowned Frosty-faced Fogo. There was a good gate to the field, at which a considerable sum was collected. As it was not known in London and elsewhere that Warwick had been tabooed, that town, despite the officiousness of the “blues,” reaped considerable benefit from the mill, since almost all the cognoscenti betook themselves thither on the Saturday and Monday, and sojourned there until the morning of fighting. This was exceedingly fortunate for the inhabitants, who were thus in some degree enabled to repay themselves the sum they had disbursed to induce the men to come into their district. The interest was not quite so strong as it had been on the occasion of the fights between Cannon and Hudson, and Ward and Cannon, but still the muster was very great, and on the morning there was such a demand for vehicles as far exceeded the supply; in fact so great was it that poor Simon Byrne was compelled to proceed to the ground in a mourning coach, which was looked upon by the superstitious as a most decided ill omen. The morning was anything but favourable for milling: the rain descended in torrents from an early hour until twelve o’clock, soaking many of the “toddlers” to the skin. Happily, however, at this period the clouds disappeared, and left the sky free from speck, a change which had an immediate effect in raising the spirits of the company.

At five minutes past one o’clock, Ward, attended by Harry Holt and Peter Crawley, flung his castor into the ring amidst the deafening cheers of his friends. The brave Irishman was not long after him, and on entering the arena, attended by Spring and Tom Reynolds, he also received a warm welcome. The betting at this time was £300 to £200 on Ward. On the latter being completely unshelled, he looked in admirable condition. His countenance was clear and healthful, and his eye bright and playful; his deep chest and broad shoulders gave him the appearance of prodigious strength, while the general symmetry of his person presented a fine study for the anatomist. He had evidently paid great attention to his training, for, despite the immense reduction he had undergone—from fifteen stone to twelve stone eight pounds—his vigour and muscle were unimpaired.

On turning to Byrne there was a wide contrast. He was heavier than Ward by a stone; but this bulk was more to his prejudice than in his favour, for it threw a shade of sluggishness over his form that forbad the impression of active vigour: the fat hung in loose collops over his drawers, and his full habit of body showed that he was not the thing; still he assumed an air of confidence, and prepared for action with a smiling mug.

The men and their seconds having crossed mawleys, and umpires and a referee having been selected, the heroes were left at the scratch to commence—

THE FIGHT.

Round 1.—Both men stood on their guard, eyeing each other with steadiness, and each waiting for the other to commence. Byrne made a slight dodge with his left, but Ward was prepared. Byrne held his right low, and his left ready for a counter-hit. Ward made a feint with his left; Byrne drew back alarmed. Ward now covered his man in good style, and gradually drove him back to the corner of the ring. Byrne was ready for the assault, when Ward, quickly playing with his right and left, rushed in to hit. Byrne stopped the blows and closed, when both tried the fibbing system. Byrne hit up slightly, and Ward caught him on the mouth. In the close and try for the fall both went down, and on rising Byrne showed first blood from a slight scratch under the nether lip. Shouts for Ward, who showed a slight flush on the chin and right ear.

2.—Ward came up all life and smiling. Byrne steady on his guard, his right still low, and his left ready for countering. Jem made play to try his man. Byrne again gradually retreated to the corner, when Jem made himself up for mischief, rattled in, and planted his left on Byrne’s mouth. A short rally followed, in which Ward had the advantage; and in the close Byrne went down to avoid in-fighting.

3.—No great harm done on either side. The friends of Ward on the chaffing system, and exclamations of “We want no Irishman for champion.” Byrne’s friends called on him to be leary; he smiled, and said, “don’t bother me.” Ward stretched out his left and nearly reached Byrne’s face, but Byrne still kept his right down. “He’ll stand it,” cried Dick Curtis, when counters were exchanged from the left. Ward stopped Simon’s blow, but popped in his own. A short rally, in which Ward stopped beautifully, and closed. Byrne would not have it, and got down.

4.—Ward made a feint with his left. Byrne steady on his guard, but made no attempt to commence fighting. Ward again made play, left and right, and darting in, planted his left on Byrne’s mug. In the counter-hitting which followed, Byrne was too short, and his right no use. He caught it again on his muzzle, and fell on his knees. Ward hit up with his right as he was going down, and Byrne showed more claret from his mouth.

5.—Cheers for Ward, who evidently out-fought his man; and Byrne gave symptoms of timidity, his legs trembling under him. Ward again made a feint with his left, and Byrne drew back. Ward smiled. Byrne tried his left, but was stopped with great precision. He then hit round with his right, but Ward caught it on his shoulder, and got away laughing. Counter-hits with the left, Ward getting home first, and drawing more blood from Simon’s mouth. Byrne’s left was short of its mark. Ward again planted his left and rushed to in-fighting. Byrne was confused, and went down amidst cries of “Stand up and fight like a man.”

6.—Jem exhibited his generalship in fine style, and Byrne could make nothing of him. Again did Ward pop in his left on Byrne’s nose, and got away. A sharp rally, in which both stopped well. In getting away, Ward fell on his knees, but was up in a moment and at it again; popped in his left twice in succession on the old spot. Byrne weak on his legs; Ward all alive. In the close, Byrne down, amidst renewed cries of “Cur!” Byrne saw he had no chance in the close, and was coming the cautious.

7.—It was clear Byrne could not hit his man, who was always so well covered as to render assault dangerous. Byrne looked bothered, and was evidently alarmed for the result. The ruby was flowing from his nose and mouth. He stopped Ward’s left cleverly, and tried his right on Ward’s canister, but Ward caught it on his shoulder, which he threw up so as to cover his lug. Jem jobbed twice in succession with his left. Byrne’s left, in attempting to counter, fell short. Jem stopped right and left. Byrne open-mouthed. Jem again busy with his left. A rally, in which slight hits were exchanged right and left, and Jem fell on his inexpressibles. The first knock-down blow was here claimed for Byrne, but disputed. The referee, we understand, pronounced it a knock-down.

8.—At the commencement of this round a wag let go a crow from a bag, which flew across the ring. Some cried “a pigeon,” others “a crow,” and a Hibernian praty-dealer exclaimed, “Oh, by Jabers, you’re not going to _crow_ over us neither.” Loud laughter from all parts of the ring. Ward stopped a left-handed compliment, and smiled; he then popped in a left-handed snorter; but Byrne, in return, caught him a heavy body blow with his right. Ward popped in his left twice in smashing style, and in a third visitation of the same sort hit Byrne down. This was proclaimed a decided knock-down blow.

9.—Byrne weak, and bleeding profusely. Ward jobbed him with his left several times in succession with great severity. Byrne, still game, tried to plant his left and right, but was beautifully stopped. A rally, in which Ward, busy as a bee, planted right and left, hit up with his left, and, as Byrne was going down, caught him across the throat with his right, and dropped him on his seat of honour.

10.—The fight had now lasted twenty-eight minutes, and Jem had not a mark visible, save on the chin, and a trifling effusion of blood from the gums. Byrne tried his right, but Jem up shoulder and stopped him. Jem now made play, and in went his left at the mouth and nose and no mistake. Byrne tried to return, but was stopped, and in the close Byrne went down weak.

11.—Jem walked strong from his second’s knee. Byrne tried his right at the mark, but Jem caught it on his elbow, and Byrne having dropped his head, he caught him cleverly an upper-cut as he recovered himself. Byrne was broken-hearted from the scientific way in which he was stopped, but again tried a rally, in which he received pepper left and right, and in the close went down weak. (Cries of “Byrne, you’re a game fellow, but you haven’t a chance.”) This was obvious, but still Byrne’s friends looked forward to Ward becoming weak.

12.—The punishment had been heretofore all on Byrne’s mouth and nose, and they continued to bleed freely. Ward caught a visitation on his mouth, amidst cries of “Well done, Byrne.” A rally, in which Byrne missed his hits, but received on the nose, and went down by the ropes.

13.—Ward ready, and determined not to throw a chance away. Byrne tried a body blow, but was stopped, receiving in return a smasher on the nose—more claret. Jem’s shoulder again shielded his lug from a visitation. Counter-hits: Ward’s told first, and Byrne’s was stopped. Byrne rushed in; Ward hit up heavily, but missed, and Byrne went down.

14.—Thirty-three minutes had now elapsed, and Jem showed slight symptoms of fatigue. (“Take your time,” cried his seconds, “the day is long, and you must win without a scratch.”) Byrne appeared to have got his second wind, and went in with spirit, but was stopped right and left. Ward was busy with his left, and again stopped a right-hander with his shoulder. A short rally, in which Byrne was unable to plant a blow, but was hit down with a flush hit from the left. (Twenty to one on Ward, which Neale offered to take, but no go.)

15.—Ward made a feint with his left, and the next instant popped it in in good earnest. Counter-hitting. Byrne could not get home, and had it smartly on his mouth. Several left-handed jobs, and a dreadful upper-cut from Jem, when Byrne went down groggy.

16.—Byrne tried, the left at the body, but missed, and went down without a blow.

17.—Jem jobbed twice with his left, and got away. Byrne’s hits were well meant, but out of distance. Byrne received an upper-cut from the left, and went down.

18.—Ward, all confidence, had recovered his temporary weakness. Byrne tried his left, but was stopped. Jem, after his feint, popped in his left three times, and Byrne was dropped.

19.—Counter-hitting with the left. Ward’s blows told, but Byrne’s were short. Jem stopped right and left, and got away. Byrne was completely puzzled, and did not know what to be at. Jem tipped him a left-hander. Byrne once more tried the right, but Jem’s shoulder was in the way, and he laughed at the impotent attempt. A rally, which ended in Byrne being hit down by Ward’s right.

20.—One hour had now elapsed. Ward was as fresh as a kitten, completely belying the rumour that he could not stand forty-five minutes. Poor Byrne received several severe jobbers, and went down.

21.—Things were now apparently fast drawing to a close. Ward did as he liked, hitting left and right. Byrne down.

22.—It was now admitted on all sides that Byrne showed game. He would not be taken away; and after receiving additional jobbers, was hit down, catching the upper-cut as he fell. (“Take him away,” was the general cry.)

23.—Byrne made a bold effort to get a turn in his favour, and rushed to a rally, but his opponent was too good a general, stopping him at all points, and returning with great severity; in the end hitting him down with a sweeping blow from the left.

24.—Jem tapped his man with his left. Byrne nodded, showing that he was still in hopes. Byrne made play with unexpected vigour, but Jem out-generalled him, popped in his left-hand teazer, and dropped him.

25.—A guinea to sixpence on Ward. Byrne made a desperate effort, and left-handed counters were exchanged, Byrne catching Ward on the throat. (Cheers for Byrne, and the Wardites astonished.) Byrne fought away, and gave Ward his work to stop him. He at last fell from a left-handed nobber.

26.—Byrne rather exhausted by his exertions in the last round, but still determined to do his best. Hits were exchanged—slight on the part of Byrne, but heavy from Ward; and in going down, poor Byrne received a heavy upper-cut.

27.—Ward’s friends again up in the stirrups, twenty to one going a begging. Ward ready at all points and full of confidence. Byrne a heavy receiver, and hit down with a flush tap in the mouth.

28.—Ward, fresh and jolly, hit with his left twice. Byrne bored in, and tumbled Ward down at the ropes, falling upon him.

29.—One hour and ten minutes had now elapsed, and Ward, instead of getting weaker, gained strength, showing the excellence of his condition. Byrne got away from a left-handed finisher. In a new attempt he was caught. He popped in his left at Ward’s bread-basket, but as he went down had a left-handed upper-cut.

30.—Counter-hits with the left on the mouth; both told, and were allowed to be the best exchanges yet made, all before being on the side of Ward. Byrne went down, but Ward caught him as he fell with a left-handed muzzler.

31.—A slaughtering round for poor Byrne, who had it repeatedly on the mouth with the left, and in going down received the upper-cut from Ward, who was never astray.

32.—Byrne greatly distressed. Ward went in to finish; planted his left three times. Byrne down.

33 and last.—Byrne now came up to make his last effort, but he was too far gone to make a change, and this more from exhaustion than hard hitting, for the blows were not delivered in dangerous places; still he was constantly receiving, and now again he had pepper in abundance, without being able to make any adequate return. In going down, Ward made a desperate back-handed offer with his right, but missed. It was clear to Spring and Reynolds that their man had no chance, and they prudently acknowledged Ward to be the better man. Jem immediately gave an active bound, shook hands with his fallen foe and his friends, and quitted the ring amidst loud cheers. The fight lasted one hour and seventeen minutes.

REMARKS.—Thus ended Ward’s last battle for the championship of England, to which it may now be said Byrne had not the slightest pretensions. He had the vanity to hold his antagonist too cheap, and, unfortunately, deceived his friends, who followed his example. Ward, throughout, proved himself a consummate general, and never gave his opponent a chance, nor did he himself throw a chance away. He fought skilfully and scientifically, and has fulfilled that high character of his talents which was never doubted. Byrne proved himself an easy customer: he was clearly not in tip-top-condition; but it was never in his nature to beat a man like Jem Ward. He must now look for a second-rate customer, and profit by experience. That he is a game man at receiving, no one will doubt; but he was clearly afraid of his opponent after the first few rounds. It puzzled his friends to account for his never trying to stop Ward’s left, nor to rush to a ruffianing fight; but the fact was, his spirit was broken, and he had not his wits about him. He says, after the third round his arms felt as heavy as lead, and that he never was so transmogrified before. It is a singular fact that neither of the men had a black eye; neither had an external cut worth mentioning; nor was there a single good fall or cross-buttock throughout the fight. Byrne was beaten solely by exhaustion and repeated slaps on the nose and mouth, which would not have prevented his coming again had such a step been wise.

The men reached London on Wednesday night, Ward without a scratch, and Byrne only exhibiting a swollen mouth and nose, rather a surprising state of his phiz considering the repetition of Ward’s left-handed jobs.

On the Thursday following the fight Jem Ward was presented with a second champion’s belt by Tom Spring, at the Tennis Court, Windmill Street, on the occasion of Reuben Martin’s benefit; and on the following evening, when the battle-money was given up, he (Ward) offered to make a match to fight any man in the world for any sum from £100 to £500 a-side. This challenge was not accepted. Young Dutch Sam, however, offered to fight Ward if the latter would confine himself to twelve stone, and stake odds; but of course, as Ward could not so far reduce himself, the offer was not accepted. On the 25th of June, 1832, Jem wrote a letter to the editor of _Bell’s Life in London_, in which he stated that he had taken the Belt public-house at Liverpool, that it was his intention to retire from the ring, and to hand over the champion’s belt to the first man who proved himself worthy of it. Several challenges were subsequently issued to Ward, but none of them ever led to any meeting, and Jem adhered to his intention of not again entering the prize ring. He carried on business as a tavern keeper, first at the Star and then at the York Hotel, Williamson Square, Liverpool. In 1853, Ward removed to London, and became host of the Rose, in Jermyn Street. This speculation proving unsuccessful, his friends placed him in business at the Three Tuns, in Oxford Street, renamed the Champion’s Stores. Thence Jem Ward removed to his native locality, the east end of London, becoming landlord of the George, in Ratcliff Highway. The generation, however, who knew Jem as “the Black Diamond,” had passed away, and Ward once again migrated westward, this time opening the theatrical house, opposite Old Drury, known by various signs, and then as the Sir John Falstaff, in Brydges Street, a name now merged in Catherine Street, of which it is a continuation. We last saw Jem at the ring-side, looking, as a daily paper observed, “like a grey-moustached half-pay major,” at the wretched burlesque of a championship-fight, performed by Jem Mace and Joe Goss, at Farningham, Kent, on the 17th of May, 1866.

We must not omit to note that Ward possessed an inborn gift of artistic talent. His favourite pursuit was the wielding of the painter’s brush and maulstick. On several occasions Ward’s pictures were received with credit at the Liverpool Exhibition, and were mentioned approvingly by the public journals as displaying a remarkable degree of natural talent; so much so that an art critic wrote, “had Ward devoted himself to the study and practice of painting in his earlier years he would doubtless have attained eminence.” The writer, on his visit many years ago to Williamson Square, inspected in Jem’s studio, paintings (some sea-pieces especially) which bore marks of peculiar talent and no mean skill in manipulation. At this time too (she has retired from professional life), Miss Eleanor Ward, a pupil of Sir Julius Benedict, was fast rising in public esteem to the first ranks of pianoforte performers in the best of our concert-rooms. Ward’s hobbies, painting and music, adopted late in life, we fear injured his worldly calling as a sporting boniface, and, after several failures, he retired, by the assistance and votes of his friends, into that admirable institution, the Licensed Victuallers’ Asylum, in the Old Kent Road; in the parlour of one of the snug separate dwellings of which we conversed with him, still cheery and animated, in the month of June of this present year, 1880, in his 80th year; Jem dating his birth, as we have already stated, from “Boxing Day” in the last twelvemonth of the last century.