On the afternoon of June 16, 1904, there was sold in King Street,
Covent Garden, the belt presented to J. C. Heenan (who was called the
Benicia Boy from the San Francisco workshops, where he was employed)
after the great fight was over. It was a duplicate of the championship
belt, and it bore the same title as that presented at the same time
to Sayers: “Champion of England.” The price it fetched in 1904 was,
I fear, a true reflection of the interest now taken in its original
owner and his pugilistic surroundings; and it is difficult to recall
the celebrity of both from those past years when Tom Sayers seemed to
share with the Duke of Wellington the proud title of Britain’s greatest
hero. But it is not really so astonishing when we remember that the
plucky little Hoxton bricklayer stood to the youth of his era as the
gamest representative of almost the only form of sport the larger
public knew or cared about. In days when golf, lawn-tennis, cricket,
football, and the rest not only multiply our sporting stars almost
indefinitely, but attract crowds numbered by scores of thousands to
applaud them, we do not seem to pitch upon the boxer as our especially
typical representative of national sporting skill. There may be other
reasons for that, too. English boxers seem to have only retained their
characteristic style long enough to hand it on to others; they then
proceeded to forget it. When Jem Mace left off boxing in England he
went to Australia, and in Sydney he taught Larry Foley, who in turn
educated Peter Jackson, Fitzsimmons, Hall, Creedon, and Young Griffo.
The first two handed on the lighted torch to the United States. The
result was soon obvious. When the Americans came over they beat us at
all weights from Peter Jackson downwards, and they beat us because
they had learnt from us what one of the best exponents of the art has
called “velocity and power of hitting combined with quickness and ease
of movement on the feet”; I should like to add to that, “the straight
left,” or as it is more classically known, “Long Melford.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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