By Steven G. Farrell: By the Gay Nineties two out of three of Sullivan’s main challengers were black: George Godfrey, an American black, and Peter Jackson, a West Caribbean who had built up his reputation primarily on the shores of Australia where there was slightly less rancor towards blacks than in the U.S.A. Sullivan dismissed both black men with such remarks as “I will not fight a negro. I never have and never shall,” and “(Jackson) “is a great sport, a high roller, and is probably not in the best of condition. Isenberg ( John L. Sullivan and his America) writes: “It was Peter Jackson’s misfortune that he was forced to confront the twin evils of institutional and personal racism.” John L’s drawing of the notorious ‘color line’ met with the approval of his manager, William Muldoon, and America in general. Sullivan also disqualified the vast majority of all fighters by stating he would not fight for anything less than a purse of $10,000, effectively putting it out of reach of everybody except for James J. Corbett, a fellow Irish-American who had the backing of the wealthy San Francisco ‘silver kings,’ many who were of Irish stock. As time went on Sullivan said he would not risk his championship unless his opponent was white and American. Sullivan was known as ‘a son-of-a-b**ch of the first water and he didn’t have many kind words for Corbett, referring to him as a ‘duffer’ and ‘the young dude.’
James J. Corbett, like John L. Sullivan, was an urban Irish-Catholic and the son of immigrant parents. However, Gentleman Jim had had the marked advantages over Sullivan by being born into an upwardly
mobile middle-class family and within the city limits of a gold rush boom town that was still young and free of many of the deeper rooted prejudices of Sullivan’s puritanical Boston. It is probably also true that there was a vast educational difference between the two Irishmen. Corbett had no qualms whatsoever in fighting a Jewish boxer like Joe Choynski or black men like Peter Jackson. He fought a draw with the 30 pound heavier West Indian in 1891 and later said that Jackson was ‘A credit to his profession.”
Labeled the ‘fight of the century,’ the Sullivan-Corbett was fought over $45,000 in purse and stakes, and resulted in the dethroning of the long-time champion. After being counted out in the twenty-first round, a battered Sullivan staggered to the ropes and addressed the audience. “Gentlemen, I have only one thing to say, once (and) for all, and that is this: This was to be, and is, my last fight. I have lost. I stayed once too often with a young man. And to James J. Corbett I pass the championship.” Corbett was white and American and, in time, he too referred to the belt as the “American championship” and he refused to fight any black men.” Curiously enough, Corbett felt that his ‘own crowd,’ the Irish Americans never forgave him for beating Sullivan. A young ‘lace curtain’ Irishman had defeated an aging ‘shanty” Irishman. Youth and social class prevailed.
Corbett, who is deemed by many to be the ring’s first scientific boxer, held on to his crown for five years. His long reign was more about ducking opponents than it was about any skillful ring technique.
In the 1941 movie, Gentleman Jim, Corbett is played by Errol Flynn while Ward Bond portrayed an over-the top Sullivan. The baton was eventually passed on to ‘Ruby’ Robert Fitzsimmons, a naturalized American citizen and originally an Irish Cornishman (with pit stops in New Zealand and Australia) in a 1897 fourteenth round ‘solar plexus’ punch. Fitz, who was to hold titles in three weight divisions, was a man of few prejudices who took on all comers. Unfortunately, he too refused to put his title on the line. His reluctance was more due than outside pressures than his personal feelings. After Fitzsimmons lost the title to James J. Jefferies in 1899 the Irish did not have one of their own as heavyweight champion until Jack Dempsey took it twenty years later.
However, the elder statesmen Sullivan and Corbett, had plenty to say when James J. Jefferies was forced to come out of five year hiatus as the “Great White Hope” to challenge Jack Johnson, the first officially recognized black heavyweight champion of the world in Reno, Nevada on the 4th of July, 1910. Sullivan loudly proclaimed, “A white man demeans himself by fighting a black” and “I do believe the negroes should fight in a class by themselves….of course we shall all like to see the white man win, but wishes can never fill a sack.” By the way, it was probably novelist Jack London who coined the term the “Great White Hope.” Corbett, who was always more politically correct than Sullivan and had even once referred a Johnson bout in New York’s Polo Grounds, had less to say but he was in Jeffries corner when he was knocked out by Johnson in the 14th. Jefferies, like Sullivan and Corbett, had also done his share of ducking and dodging before he officially retired the first time. “After one has achieved his ambition and reached the top, there is not the incentive to work as there was before. In other words, it harder to work and, unconsciously, a fighter will neglect proper training.”