It is appropriate to begin the second part of this book, which deals with Boxing in its modern sense, with an account of a fight described by all who saw it as the best ever seen. It took place thirty years ago, and things that happened thirty years ago are apt to be, superlatively, the best or the worst according to the point of the story. There seems to be no doubt, at all events, that the encounter between Frank Slavin and Peter Jackson was the best ever seen at the National Sporting Club.

Frank Slavin, as we have seen, was one of those boxers of the transition period who overlapped. He had fought both with bare knuckles and with gloves. Both he and Peter Jackson were Australians, and both claimed the championship of that country. The contest at the National Sporting Club was said to be for the World’s Championship, but that is a phrase which on no occasion means very much. All that matters for our present purpose is that the match was an important one between two fine and evenly matched men.

Peter Jackson has been called the “first black Gentleman.” He was born in the West Indies in 1861, and went as a lad to Australia, where, in Sydney, he was a fellow-pupil with Slavin of Larry Foley, who in turn had sat at the feet of Jem Mace. Indeed, in the past, Slavin had himself given Jackson lessons in boxing. The black had only once been beaten, and in 1891 he had fought a draw of sixty-one rounds with James J. Corbett. In those days an unlimited number of rounds—that is, a fight to a finish—had not been prohibited in all the states of the union, and this remaining custom of the Prize-Ring was much abused. The battle took place at the California Athletic Club, at San 122 Francisco, for a purse of 10,000 dollars. It was a poor affair. Jackson hit straight, Corbett crocked. But the white man was cleverer than the black at avoiding punishment by clinching at the psychological moment. Often he refused to break away until the hissing of the crowd became a positive menace. For the last fifteen rounds there was no boxing at all. The men were utterly exhausted: Corbett had hurt an arm, two of Jackson’s ribs were broken. The referee at last declared the fight a draw. He might just as well have done so much earlier.

Every one who came in contact with him liked Peter Jackson for a quiet, well-behaved, sportsmanlike fellow without the slightest brag or bounce about him, which in their worst manifestations are so characteristic of his race. He was known for a first-rate boxer, and Mr. Eugene Corri, the well-known referee, declares that he was the best boxer he has ever seen. He stood 6 feet 2 inches and weighed 13 stone 10 lb. in perfect condition, against Slavin’s 6 feet 1 inch and 13 stone 6 lb. There was only a year’s difference in their ages: both men had been finely trained, though some, disappointed in the result, say that Slavin was a shade over-trained. He was a big-boned, square-jawed rock of a man, hairy and ferocious: while Jackson’s skin shone like black marble.

The match took place on May 30th, 1892. The National Sporting Club had not been long founded, and its theatre was packed to its extremest limit. The contest was to be one of twenty three-minute rounds, and four-ounce gloves were used. Jackson’s chief physical advantage was a slight superiority in reach, but it was known that Slavin’s strength was prodigious, and his right-hand punch on the ribs, his best blow, was famous and terrific. He was a harder hitter than Jackson, and though up to the end of the sixth round his blows were not so many as his antagonist’s, they meant more. Before the men entered the ring that night, Slavin said (Mr. Corri tells us in his book, Thirty Years a Boxing Referee): “To be beaten by a black fellow, however good a fellow, is a pill I shall never swallow.”

It is unwise to say that sort of thing. 123

It has been said, too, that Slavin taunted Jackson in the ring. However that may be, the splendid black man was confident in his quiet, unassuming way, and he at all events held his tongue. His method of fighting too, was orthodox and cool. When at the beginning of the first round Slavin came charging at him, Jackson put out his long straight left, and the white man was shaken by the blow. It was his policy to get close to Jackson so that he could bring off his tremendous body-blow. It was Jackson’s policy to keep him away and to box at long range, and he did this. Some young man had once said to Jackson at the club: “They tell me you black chaps don’t like being hit in the stomach?” “Can you,” Jackson replied, “tell me of any white man who does?” But there is no doubt that negroes are, as a rule, weaker in the stomach than white men, unless like Jack Johnson, the more recent champion, they especially cultivate the abdominal muscles. No doubt Jackson knew, too, that one of Slavin’s blows was worth two of his: but he boxed with quiet assurance and defended himself with vigilant care. Again and again Slavin rushed at him and tried to force his way close in: again and yet again Jackson propped him off, reserving his strength while Slavin dissipated his. Slavin was the favourite when the men entered the ring, but it is notorious that the greatest gamblers will, in boxing, back a white man because he is white.

Peter Jackson did not entirely avoid all the white man’s blows, but his footwork was wonderfully good, and even when he failed to guard against them, he generally managed to be moving away when a blow landed, so that most of its power was lost. He seldom gave Slavin a chance to put in one of his regular smashers. And in the meantime the accumulated force of the black’s many but lesser hits, together with the energy wasted by Slavin in futile charges across the ring, weakened the white man. Up to the sixth round it was any one’s fight, though Peter Jackson was an easy winner on points up to that time. But what are points,............