The father of boxing

Dec 8 2007 by David Charters, Liverpool Daily Post

He had the heart of a romantic and the fists of a world champion. A new book tells of the amazing Victorian violinist who lies in a Liverpool grave. David Charters reports

THE young man soaked his fists in strange potions to harden them for bruising the brazen heads of doomed opponents.

And later, on precious nights, when slim Gipsy girls danced for him on the soft moss, those hands stroked his violin until melodies rose from the strings, so sweet and sad that they could have drawn the moon from the sky.

Before dawn, he crept silently from the painted caravan in the woods, where the sleep had been deep and pleasurable.

All the girls in the area knew Jem Mace in those days. He was a game fighter with a romantic nature, son of the blacksmith, who shoed horses in the little Norfolk village of Beeston.

Jem was not himself of Gipsy blood, though he loved the easy manners of travelling people, learning their customs and beliefs, while admiring their campfire music, dancing and fist-fighting.

Many years later, when they laid him for his final sleep in the earth of Anfield Cemetery, Liverpool, almost everyone in this country, the USA and beyond knew about Jem – supreme fighter, dancer, lover, musician, circus performer, businessman, publican, and proprietor of the Strawberry Gardens fairground, Anfield, Liverpool, the city he loved which was often his home.

The man who has written a magnificent biography of Jem is less well-known and that’s the way he likes it.

Of course, he hopes the book will sell well, but, as far as Graham Gordon is concerned, Jem is the star. He is the storyteller. The status of the two should not be confused.

But Graham, a professional writer and boxing historian from Wirral, has also established a website dedicated to his hero (www.jemmace.net).

Jem (1831-1919) is sometimes called “the father of modern boxing”, a description reflecting his skill in contests, which, at their most basic and brutal, were as old as one man’s desire to prove his superiority over another – whether the prize was a woman, a cave with modern amenities in a desirable location, or a shank of pig.

But it was refined into a sport, even a noble art, by ancient civilisations, including the Greeks, who included it in the Olympic Games of 688 BC, and the Romans, who gave us the word “pugilism”.

Prizefighting, advanced by the patronage of toffs, had taken place in villages for centuries, but the first records of a bout appeared in the London Protestant Mercury, in 1681, and the first British bare-knuckle champion was James Figg, in 1719.

Gradual improvements were made to the sport to prevent death and dreadful injuries, and these were encapsulated in the London Prize Ring rules of 1853. Fights should be held in a 24-foot square ring surrounded by ropes, a felled fighter had to rise within 30 seconds, if he was to be allowed to continue; biting, headbutting and hitting below the belt were outlawed.

It was perhaps strange that rules should apply at all, as prizefighting was illegal. However, as it attracted huge purses and enjoyed the support of the aristocracy, it seems that even well-publicised bouts were sometimes tolerated, as well as the boxing booths – where Jem had matured from a likely lad, tough and 5ft 9½ins, to a superb boxer with a lightning reactions and a capacity to deliver thunderous punches.

Although a bare-knuckle prizefighter, he also pioneered glove boxing and was influential – though uncredited – in the introduction of the Marquess of Queensberry’s rules in 1867, introducing gloves, and three-minute rounds with a minute’s break between each.

Jem became the English prize-fighting champion in 1861. He lost it to Tom King the following year, but the fight had been so punishing that Tom declined a return, thus surrendering his crown to Jem.

In 1870, Jem became the world champion under Prize Ring rules, defeating Tom Allen, the American number one, over 10 rounds in Kennersville, Louisiana. Four years earlier, he had been cheered and chaired through the streets of Liverpool by 10,000 people celebrating his victory over Joe Goss. In that year, he opened Strawberry Gardens.

High-spending and unwise business deals led to Jem’s financial ruin and he ended up busking, as he started. He collapsed on a coal heap in Jarrow and later died in a hotel.

His body was carried to Liverpool, where he was buried in the unmarked grave 594, at Anfield Cemetery.

But, in 1954, he entered the International Boxing Hall of Fame, and, in 2002, the Merseyside Former Boxers’ Association paid for a splendid headstone with the inscription, “Where hardy heroes nature’s weapons wield, he stood unconquered, champion of the field, time counts him out, but memory will remain, we ne’er will look upon his like again”.

Graham tells of young Jem playing outside a pub, perhaps his own composition, the Cuckoo Song. Three drunken fishermen approached. One broke his violin with a single punch.

He took them on one by one and gave each a sound thrashing. Local women purred in admiration, encouraging him on the course that would result in three marriages (two bigamous), countless affairs and at least 14 children.

Graham is distantly related to Jem, but his interest in the great man stems from his astonishing achievements.

“Jem was a superb natural athlete,” he says. “He could run, wrestle, was a fine horseman and eventually learned to be an expert fencer. He was also a very confident fellow sexually. He mixed with the Romany community where things were probably more free and easy.

“Mace, a middle-weight, would have done well because of his immense skill and ability to slip punches by head movement, shoulder movement or hip movement.”

It was the great age of capitalists, scientists, theologians, empire-builders and warriors, but the handsome violinist with fast fists deserves his place in the pantheon of the immortals.

MASTER of the Ring, by Graham Gordon, is published by Milo books at £8.99.

davidcharters