John Jackson grave (29th September 1769 to 7th October 1845)

 

I can barely watch boxing matches where people are trying to punch the other skull with as much force as they can. At least they’re wearing gloves. I doubt I could have watched the man entombed under this impressive headstone. It’s the bare-knuckle prize-fighter of the late 18th century John Jackson who - aged 27 - won the “Champion of England” title in a fight in April 1795 (the fight lasted ten minutes.)

 

Most bare-knuckler fighters were of working origins but John was from the middle classes which led to his nickname of Gentleman Jackson. You cannot miss his impressive grave in Brompton Cemetery in London. He held the title Heavy Weight title for eight years until he retired and opened a boxing academy for gentlemen (Lord Byron was a pupil.) His academy was well-known and is often referred to in the Georgette Heyer Regency romance novels. The nobility and gentry sought out John socially and invited him to their homes.

 

He sounds too refined for fighting. Out of the ring he conducted himself with dignity and good manners and dressed impeccably.  His 5 foot 7 inch toned frame was in demand out of the ring - artists and sculptures wanted to catch his symmetry and perfect physique. He died at his home in Mayfair in London aged 76 - a long life for the era.

 

The evening sun was falling splendidly over the grave. He must have been well thought of to have such a beast of resting place - he lay in a simple grave until this stone was paid for by public subscription. I was not sure what the lion means on the top - perhaps a reference to the size of John's heart. He was known as a kindly and charitable figure, passing round a cap to collect money for the man he’d just knocked out. He also organised exhibitions by other boxers to raise money for charity. In 1811 he raised hefty sums for the Portuguese (whose towns had been burnt down by the French) and British prisoners in France.

 

What would he think of today’s multi-millionaire boxers squared in by a trainer, publicist, manager and promoter? Not much probably. The lion atop the headstone looks crestfallen and not even the bright afternoon sunlight could lift its mood. I did a salute and left.

 

 

 

 

The lion looks a little crestfallen to me…

 

 

 

I loved wandering round the cemetery in the evening sunlight…

 

Brompton Cemetery...