Fighting John L.

Like the red planet Mars, shining emblem of war, the bright star of John L. Sullivan suddenly flared into flame on a fistic horizon hitherto dimly outlined in mists of mediocrity. For three years prior to his New York debut there had been considerable talk in metropolitan circles about this heavy-hitting Boston youth who scored victories over ouch men as Cockey Woods, Dan Dwyer, Mike Donovan and George Rooke within the precincts of the cultured Hub and had beaten Professor John Donaldson in Cincinnati, Ohio.

But it was not until New York saw him in action that the wise men of Gotham realized his standing as a combatant extraordinary. The speed and ferocity of his attack not only amazed the spectators, but led many of them to conclude that the likes of this savage young conqueror had never before been seen in a ring.

In or out of the ring, "John L." was quick to wrath and a bad hombre to cross at any time. Yet he won the whole-hearted devotion of fistic followers as no other pugilist before or after him succeeded in doing.

Not even those later day idols, Jack Dempsey and Joe Louis, exercised ouch a lasting spell of fascination on the public mind as did the picturesque, indomitable biffer from Boston. When the ring followers called him "The Champion of Champions" it was no idle phrase. They really meant it. In their eyes Sullivan had attained the status of a god, all-powerful, super-human, the world's greatest fighter with bare fists or the padded mitts.

John Lawrence Sullivan was born on October 15, 1858, in Concord Street, Roxbury, Massachusetts, in the Highlands of Boston. He came of hardy Irish stock, his father, Michael, hailing from Tr.lee, County Kerry, and his mother from Athlone, County Roscommon. His paternal grandfather was a noted Celtic wrestler and champion performer with a shillelagh. His dad was agile and pugnacious, of diminutive stature, but big of heart, as savage as a wild cat if aroused and kingpin with the fists among the hod carriers with whom he worked.

A victory over Cockey Woods, a husky Boston scrapper, launched Sullivan on the pugilistic ocean. That triumph brought him an exhibition tour and the following year a bout with Dan Dwyer in Revere Hall, Booton, where he easily won. As Dan was the recognized champion of Massachusetts, the fact that Sullivan slapped him around light-heartedly was a big feather in the youngster's cap. He followed this by decisively whipping Tommy Chandler, a well known and formidable heavyweight.

Fight fans now began to talk about the young New England sensation, and his big chance that opened the way to a dazzling future came when Professor Mike Donovan, then world middleweight champion, visited Booton to give an exhibition in the latter part of 1879. The professor, who later held the post of boxing instructor at the New York Athletic Club, was deservedly rated as one of the most scientific boxers of the day. Yet the young Boston "Strong Boy" battered him and all but knocked him out.

"You're the goods, young fellow, and I'm betting you'll go far in this game!" said Donovan after the set-to.

Besides William Muldoon, the latter's friend Billy Madden had seen Sullivan fight. The two were staging a variety show in Boston and they agreed to put "John L." on in an exhibition bout. Joe Goss, once claimant of the heavyweight title, was to appear in a benefit arranged for him at the Hub and Madden induced him to take on Sullivan for four rounds.

Goss was clever and tricky, but despite all his cleverness, he was clearly outclassed.

Following the Goss affair, Sullivan earned new prestige by giving George Rooke a terrific beating. Rooke was knocked down seven times.

By now Sullivan's fame had spread to America's sporting centers and he was much in demand. Macon McCormick, America's ace sports reporter, then editor of the Cincinnati Enquirer, was an ardent fight-patron and made up his mind that this new knockout artist must show his wares in the Midwest, and he arranged to have Sullivan box John Donaldson. In the third round, Donaldson decided that he had had enough and quit. But the crowd grew hostile and Donaldson consented to resume sparring, but a moment later, he threw up his hands and quit again.

Two months after the Cincinnati affair, they again faced each other in a contest, without gloves, held in a back room of the Atlantic Garden in the same city, and in the tenth round Sullivan cornered his elusive opponent and knocked him out.

Sullivan's first important fight around New York State look place on a barge anchored in the Hudson River off Yonkers. John Flood, known as the "Bull's Head Terror," was his opponent. Five hundred sports paid ten dollars each lo see the battle. Sullivan and Flood fought with skin-tight gloves, under London Prize rules, for a slake of $1,000, of which $750 went lo the winner and $250 lo the loser.

The fight lasted sixteen minutes, with Flood down in every round. The latter's seconds threw in the sponge in the eighth, acknowledging defeat. The Philadelphia fans saw him knock out Fred Crossley in less than a round, followed by John L. whipping two well known sluggers for the edification of Chicago ring patrons: Captain James Dalton, a tugboat skipper, in four rounds; and Jack Burns in two minutes of the first frame.

When Sullivan and Madden returned lo the East, negotiations were well under way for John's title shot al Ryan's crown. These were concluded on October 5, 1881, when articles were signed for a fight lo a finish with bare knuckles, to lake place the following February, for $2,500 a side.

This battle for the heavyweight championship was held al Mississippi City on February 2,' 1882, the "Boston Strong Boy" slopping his man in nine rounds.

For the first time in American journalistic history, the newspapers hired famous novelists, dramatists, and even members of the clergy to write their impressions of a prize fight, so deep an interest was there in this title bout. Among those so employed were Henry Ward Beecher and the Reverend Thomas De Witt Talmage. Nat Goodwin represented the dramatic brotherhood in that capacity, and Oscar Wilde, then on a lecture lour of the United Stales, accepted an assignment lo write a story for a British publication.

The Sullivan-Ryan battle, as already told, was exciting and yet a rather one-sided affair. Sullivan, the more powerful of the two, had much the better of Ryan in the wrestling mixups permitted by London rules, and he threw Paddy frequently.

When time was called for the ninth round, Ryan could scarcely move. He staggered out gallantly and Sullivan wasted no lime. He lore in like a human battering-ram and it was all over. A new champion had been crowned.

Thereafter, for ten long years, the "Boston Strong Boy" met all comers in the heavyweight division except Negroes.

In 1883, Sullivan .faced Charley Mitchell of England in a glove bout staged in New York City and stopped him in the third. The police intervened. Herbert A. Slade, the Maori, was Sullivan's next opponent. Slade made his American debut before a New York gathering and early in the third round the man from the Antipodes was hurled across the ring by the impact of a clubbing right to his jaw and was unable to continue.

These successive victories over foreign invaders naturally added fresh lustre to Sullivan's laurels. But what finally established him on the pinnacle of public fame was a tour he made of the United States, during which he offered the sum of $1,000 to any man who could stand up to him for four rounds, with the gloves.

First Sullivan beat Slade on August 6, 1883, and the following month he began his trip, meeting all comers. Across the continent he went, never evading a challenger.

From January, 1884, to December, 1886, Sullivan reigned the undisputed monarch of all he surveyed in the fistic world, adding fourteen victories to his credit and fighting a four round draw with Duncan McDonald at Denver. In a battle with Patsy Cardiff at Minneapolis on January 18, 1887, Sullivan broke his left arm; nevertheless he succeeded in securing a draw in 6 rounds.

The most notable contests in his career, other than the Ryan mill, were his thirty-nine rounds draw with Mitchell at Chantilly, France, his seventyfive rounds kayo of Jake Kilrain, the last bare knuckle championship contest, and his defeat by Corbett.

The site selected for Sullivan's fight with Mitchell was Baron Rothschild's picturesque estate at Chantilly, France. Most of the spectators were British, and owing to the secrecy maintained in order to avoid interference and arrest by the authorities, the crowd was strictly limited in number. Only a handful of sports saw the contest and among these were Sullivan's chere amie, Ann Livingston, dressed as a boy, a role which that talented young lady had frequently filled on the American stage.

The ring was set up in the rear of a stable, on ground utilized as training quarters for the Baron's racing steeds. For thirty-six hours a heavy rain had been falling. It had stopped when the fighters were squared off, but it left the ground so soggy that the battlers were ankle-deep in mud. Intermittent showers after the combat got underway persisted, a fact which did not add to the gladiators' comfort.

The fight (lid not come up to expectations, but it was so important that the result was eagerly looked for in boxing circles all over the world. There was a wide difference of opin- ion regarding the showing of the men. The Sullivan cohorts insisted the champion had by far the better of the milling and based this assertion on the fact that the Englishman had often fouled by going down without being hit.

Mitchell's adherents declared that he had proved his superiority and that the decision to call off hostilities at the end of the thirty-ninth round and make the affair a draw was fortunate for Sullivan.

Back in America, Sullivan was hounded by Richard K. Fox, owner of the Police Gazette, who sought a match between "John L." and Jake Kilrain, to whom Fox had awarded the Police Gazette championship belt because Sullivan had refused to accept Kilrain's challenge. But now things were different. Riled by his poor display in France, Sullivan signed for a Kilrain bout.

He and Kilrain clashed under the London Prize Ring rules, hare knuckles, for a side bet of $10,000, at Richburg, Mississippi. The twenty-four-foot ring was pitched on the turf. Kilrain was first to climb through the ropes and then John entered, accompanied by William Muldoon and Mike Cleary. A blazing sun beat down on the strange scene.

John Fitzpatrick, who later was elected Mayor of New Orleans, was the referee. Bat Masterson, once sheriff of Dodge City and in later years the boxing expert of the Morning Telegraph of New York, was the timekeeper for Jake while Tom Costello held the watch for John.

The fight lasted two hours and sixteen minutes, Kilrain's seconds throwing in the sponge in the seventy-fifth round. From the outset Sullivan forced matters, but was met halfway by Kilrain in the early stages of the battle when Jake fought with great gallantry and spirit.

The Sullivan-Kilrain encounter was the last heavyweight championship fight held under London Prize Ring rules. Henceforth, the gloves were to decide the arguments of title-claimants. The fighter, discarding Nature's weapons, was translated into the boxer. The bare knuckle man had had his day.

During 1890 John L. Sullivan appeared on the stage as the hero of a melodrama entitled Honest Hearts and Willing Hands. On June 4, 1891, he boxed a four round exhibition bout at San Francisco with Jim Corbett, prior to sailing for a tour of Australia. On March 10, 1892, he signed articles to fight Jim Corbett with five ounce gloves before the Olympic Club of New Orleans for a $25,000 purse and $20,000 stake, the bout to take place on September 7th.

More than three years had elapsed since Sullivan beat Kilrain. During that period "John L." had not donned a glove except for exhibition purposes. Idleness, the enervating life of the stage, long nights of carousal with boon companions, had taken toll of his vitality, shortened his breath and in creased his stomach's circumference.

Sullivan underestimated Corbett, believing firmly that, in or out of condition, he could defeat the Californian easily. He had reached that stage in a fighter's career where training is a thing of horror.

At his best, "The Boston Strong Boy" heartily disliked the task of conditioning himself.

At his worst, with no William Muldoon, who trained him for the Kilrain fight, to drive him, he went through daily exercises in de- sultory fashion. The result? Corbett knocked the "Boston Strong Boy" out in the twenty-first round.

The title passed from America's most popular gladiator to the lithe, handsome youth, the "California Dandy" whose fistic prowess flowered to full bloom on the sun-kissed slopes of California. Coincident with the crashing of the premier pugilistic idol from his pedestal, the bout definitely set the seal of public approval on the use of gloves in heavyweight championship contests as opposed to the bare knuckles and rough mauling tactics of the London Prize Ring.

The Queensberry era of boxing came triumphantly into its own with the successful staging of the Battle of New Orleans.

There isn't much to the story of that battle. Corbett, young, active, and brainy, stepped jauntily around the massive hulk of what had once been a great fighting man and evaded Sullivan's sweeping leads, hooked, countered on the retreat and cut and jarred "John L." incessantly. Sullivan rushed in vain. His formidable right hand, which had won for him so often, was useless in this crisis and he was an easy victim for his young challenger.

It was a fight in which speed, youth, and scientific generalship were pitted against bulky muscular power slowed down by age and fast living, a gifted exponent of a new style of boxing against old traditional slugging methods and archaic milling tactics which were doomed to defeat. One hour and twenty minutes after the start, the cool, smiling youth from California was crowned the new world champion in the first battle staged for that title under the Marquis of Queensberry rules with gloves.

It was the herald of a new day in boxing. The game was destined henceforth to rise to recognized respectability as a means of entertainment for all classes of both sexes, and ultimately to attain the commercial rating which culminated in the establishment of the 20-million dollar gate!

The shock of the Sullivan idol crashing from its pedestal rocked the sporting kingdom to its uttermost confines. Men of "John L.'s" generation didn't regard his defeat as a mere misfortune-it was a catastrophe. The Battle of New Orleans was to Sullivan admirers what Waterloo was to the French!

The legend of invincibility woven around Sullivan persisted even after his signal defeat.

After his retirement, Sullivan went on the stage and later became a prohibition lecturer. He died at Abingdon, Massachusetts, on February 2, 1918.