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.”
JEM WARD (Champion).
From a Painting by Patten, 1826.
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:—
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.
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.
“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.
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.
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.
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,
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—
“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,
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.