SULLIVAN, John Lawrence

(b. 15 October 1858 in Roxbury, Massachusetts; d. 2 February 1918 in Abington, Massachusetts), charismatic professional boxer who was the last bare-knuckle champion, the most popular fighter of the nineteenth century, and the United States' first national sports celebrity.

Sullivan was born into a congested working-class neighborhood of Boston to Michael and Catherine Kelly Sullivan, who were both Catholic immigrants from Ireland. His father carried hods for a living, while his mother tended the family, which also included Sullivan's younger sister and brother. Enrolled in local public schools, Sullivan favored baseball over academics, yet he completed grammar school and attended Comer's Commercial College. His claim to have enrolled in Boston College is not borne out by the school's records. Nevertheless, Sullivan got a good education by the standards of his day.

The Boston area was home to throngs of Irish immigrants and their descendants, but not hospitable to them. Domestic work for women was plentiful, as was the meanest, most dangerous labor for men; there was little opportunity to rise above that level. Sullivan tried a number of trades, though sports were his passion. An attractive teenager, he was tall and weighed almost 200 pounds. He worked at building his skill in fighting, gaining a reputation as the local "strong boy." Laws in Massachusetts against prizefighting (bare-knuckle battles for money) were rigorously enforced, so his early boxing contests were staged exhibitions of gloved sparring. Sullivan's first recognition in the press was for a trouncing he gave older fighter John Woods in a match set among the variety acts at the Alhambra Theater in 1879.

Success in the ring fostered in the young Sullivan an ambition to be a prizefighter, a calling so low—and illegal—that no one had actually made a living from it in the United States. There had been famed fighters—James Ambrose "Yankee" Sullivan, John Carmel "Benicia Boy" Heenan, and John Morrissey—all of whom had worked to support their ring careers. Most of them lived and died badly. Nevertheless, Sullivan envisioned boxing as his ticket to fame and fortune. Several factors made his timing excellent: the popular press was greedy for sensation, Americans were beginning to view sports as beneficial, and the Gilded Age spirit was one of masculine aggression and glitz.

Sullivan's courage and skill in the exhibition ring propelled the "Boston Strong Boy" to victories over Boston and New York toughs. His April 1880 defeat of the English heavyweight Joe Goss, who had lost the U.S. championship to Paddy Ryan, brought him greater celebrity. Issuing the following challenge, "My name is John L. Sullivan and I can lick any son-of-a-bitch alive," Sullivan barnstormed the country and took on anyone for fifty dollars, accumulating cash and notoriety. U.S. champion Paddy Ryan finally accepted the challenge. Although most of Sullivan's contests had been fought using gloves under the Queensberry rules, the match with Ryan was fought bare-knuckled under the old London Rules. On 7 February 1882, in Mississippi City, Mississippi, he knocked out Ryan in the ninth round for the heavyweight championship.

Sullivan's star had risen, and he became the idol of the sporting press and urban tabloids. For the next few years he toured the country and abroad, basking in glory, over-indulging, and defending his championship in the ring and in the saloon, including in a bar he bought. The citizens of Boston officially recognized their native son as world champion, presenting Sullivan with a diamond-studded gold belt. Jake Kilrain, backed by Police Gazette owner Richard K. Fox, challenged the champion to what would be the last bare-knuckle championship in the United States. On 8 July 1889, in Richburg, Mississippi, Sullivan knocked out Kilrain after seventy-five rounds, a feat that made the front page of the New York Times. The world champion reigned for three more years, not only in the ring but also on vaudeville and lecture stages. In his only championship defense under the Queensberry rules, an aged, dissipated Sullivan was knocked out by the "scientific" fighter, James J. Corbett, in twenty-one rounds in New Orleans on 7 September 1892. This marked the end of a boxing career that totaled hundreds of exhibitions and nearly fifty prizefights, only one of which he lost.

Sullivan's personal life was scarred by ferocity, excess, and alcoholism. Although he earned fabulous sums—he was the first athlete in the United States to earn more than $1 million in his lifetime—little of it was saved. His marriage to Annie Bates Baily on 1 May 1883 ended in divorce in 1908 after years of infidelity, violence, and over twenty years of separation. Their only child died at age two in 1886. A second, happier marriage to Katherine Harkins on 7 February 1910 lasted until her death in 1916.

In retirement the gifted showman returned to the stage and, after sobering up, gave lectures on the evils of drink. He hobnobbed with President Theodore Roosevelt and lived relatively quietly on his farm. On 2 February 1918 a heart attack killed him. His wake and funeral were massive affairs. He is buried in Boston's Old Calvary Cemetery.

Sullivan had his detractors, who dwelled upon the brutality of his sport, his drunkenness and adultery, and his refusal to fight a black man, yet these were far outnumbered by his admirers. Although he never regained his championship, to many Bostonians, boxing aficionados, Irish Americans, and others, "the Great John L." was still the greatest sports champion who ever lived. Sullivan changed the way the U.S. public perceived sports, injecting drama and personality into the fray, creating it forever as spectacle.

Sullivan wrote a creative autobiography, Life and Reminiscences of a 19th Century Gladiator (1892). An authoritative biography, Michael T. Isenberg, John L Sullivan and His America (1988), places the fighter in his milieu. Elliot J. Gorn, The Manly Art: Bare-Knuckle Fighting in America (1986), sets him in the history of his sport. Sullivan's gold championship belt (or possibly a replica) is in the collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of American History in Washington, D.C.

Ellen Roney Hughes