“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.