Excerpts Concerning James J. Jeffries from 1934 book

Excerpts concerning James J. Jeffries from a 1934 book titled ‘What a Life I’m Telling You’ by a famous American minstrel/actor named Eddie Leonard:

“I decided to join the United States Army. I was sent to Washington Barracks, Washington, D.C. I was assigned to Light Battery C, Third Artillery and was immediately transferred to Presidio, San Francisco, California. I jumped right into playing baseball. The first man that I met and really impressed me was James J. Jeffries. He was young and handsome and had a figure like Adonis. He could play ball and run like a deer. He was playing with Bill Lang’s City Club of National League boys with the Chicago Cubs, who would come down in the winter time to keep in shape and play with the soldiers.

The score between the Presidio Soldiers and the Lang’s was 2-2. As Jeff had to have an outfit to play, and there being a shortage of uniforms, he borrowed one of the soldier’s baseball uniforms. Second Lt. Peyton March was playing first base. Jeff hit a line drive down to shortstop. I picked it up and threw it to the first base to Lt. March. It was a close decision and the Umpire Jim Corbett called it out and the run on third scored home, but it didn’t count because the side was out. Jeff got sore and got into a hot argument with Lt. March. Jim, who was a young coming champion pushed the Lt. all over the ground. March thought he was a soldier dressed in a baseball uniform and ordered the soldiers to take him to the guardhouse. The game was stopped, but the score was still 2-2 in the ninth inning.

The soldiers all tried to explain to the Lt. that he was not a soldier, but the Lt. would not argue. After the game the Lt. took a vacation and went to Catalina Islands for a five day fishing trip. Jeff’s trainers all went to the Officer’s Headquarters to General Shafter and all the other officials and tried to explain to them that Jeff was not a soldier. The officers asked – “Who ordered him to the guardhouse?” “Lt. Peyton March,” they all answered. The reply came back, “Well, the Lt. is on a fishing trip and won’t be back for five days.”

The coming champion had to remain in the guardhouse. The Lt. returned and when he did, the soldiers explained that he put the wrong man in the guardhouse. It was young Jeff who came up to fight Peter Jackson and who was only up here for training in the winter time. Peyton March was a great soldier and was loved by his men. They would follow him to hell and back and he would bring them back, and being an extremely nice man for his position, felt so embarrassed, that he gave Jeff and all the trainers the full possession of the whole reservation for their training.

Whenever our champ would come to Presidio he would salute anybody that wore a uniform. Accidentally he passed me on the extension coming into Presidio one day and he saluted me. “Jeff, you don’t have to salute me, I’m not a Commissioned Officer.” I take no chances with anybody in a uniform. I’d even salute General Shafter.”

One morning I received a letter from my mother from Manchester, Virginia, asking for some money for the family. I was getting $13 a month. I was reading her letter and it made me feel depressed because I didn’t have the money to send to her. Jim happened to come along. “What’s the matter with you, Eddie?” He pulled the letter, envelope and saw that my real name was Lemuel G. Toney. He knew me as Eddie Leonard The Minstrel, which was my stage name in the city of San Francisco, and was a 10 minute ride from the barracks where I was playing in the old Palace Theatre and soldiering at the time except when I was on guard duty and on these days I was always sick to the manager of the theatre. Jim kept my letter and when I asked him for it the next day, he said, “Oh! Oh! Yes, excuse me Eddie.”

About two weeks later I received another letter from my mother thanking me for my $50. I had to smile when I read “How your handwriting has improved.” Immediately, I knew Jeff did this. He tried to get away with it, by denying that he knew anything about it. He is a good hearted big boy. He is fond of fishing and playing cards. Hearts is his favorite card game. He loves to cheat when playing Solitaire (provided no one is looking). He thought a lot of the men with whom he travelled and always considered them his friends. Jeff is a good pal once you get to know him. He was never a great mixer – especially with strangers, due to the fact that he always waits for the other fellow to start the conversation. I have known him on several occasions to have lifted a new found friend off his feet and turn him upside down and then set him back on his feet. He did this to Jim Corbett when he first met him and when I asked Jim – “Did you ever meet Jeff?” he answered, “I should say I did and I will never forget that introduction.”

Before the fight with Peter Jackson, Jeffries received a telegram from Lt. March wishing him to win. After the fight the Spanish American War broke out. Jim saw all the Battery to the station, watched us get on the train taking us to Cuba. There I left the boy with whom I was becoming so chummy. He was bidding us all goodbye and good luck.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Another excerpt:
I then went to Los Angeles for two weeks. The day before I closed in Los Angeles, I received a letter from James Jeffries asking me to come up to Rowdy Dow as soon as my engagement was over, so I went from Los Angeles, through San Francisco up to the old mountain which is only a three hour ride and stayed there until June 26 (1910), when we all went to Reno, Nevada, for the big fight.

In this book there is a group photo leaving for Reno for the Jeffries-Johnson fight, after the fight was called off at San Francisco by the Governor, Tex Rickard having built the arena and then having to tear it down and take the lumber with him to Reno, to build the arena there.

The public and the press sure did put Jeff on the spot, but deep down in the bottom of his heart was the only place he could talk, that was to himself.

Two years previous, newspapermen were busy carrying the details of the fight all over the world. It gave work to thousands of unemployed on the sporting press. The public and press had won, they never lose.
I was writing for the Richmond Times Dispatch, Richmond, Virginia, covering all the fun around the training quarters. There were sportswriters of every game under the sun from all over the world. Their names have been mentioned so often that the town I love – Brooklyn – even knew.

From Reno, Nevada, we went to Jeffries’ home at Burbank, California , for a few days and then I came back East and arrived in New York on July 19th. I spent the balance of the month of July and August at the Polo Grounds watching the baseball games and watching my old pal John McGraw and his boys knocking them out.
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Another excerpt from 1934:
I opened my next letter and to my surprise Jeffries had asked me to come out the very same date that Tom Andrew had told me he was going to be there. I read Jim’s letter and at the finish he concluded:

“Come out and see me before we pass out of the picture.”

Sure enough I hopped a train the very next day. I got to Los Angeles. There was Andrews and Jeffries at the station to meet me. I was Jim’s guest for two weeks. Before I left we got to talking about the days back in 1910 and later years. Also about things that happened in Reno which never got out to the press.
Jeff said to me, “Do you remember in Reno when John L. Sullivan tried to come into the gate and Corbett stopped him and they almost came to fist blows? Joe Showinsky came between them and tried to split them. Sullivan hit him in the nose. Stanley Catchell came into the gate and Farmer Burns jumped at him and Corbett tried to split them and Catchell hit him in the nose.”

“Eddie, do you remember when you flirted with my sister-in-law and when you found out who she was, how embarrassed you were? Ed, what was the most outstanding thing in the fight that you noticed and never will forget?” “When a man stood up in the grandstand who was sitting there with my wife, Mrs. Corbett, Kipper’s wife, your wife Frieda, and your brother’s wife, Sadie Jeffries and said, “I still bet $1,000 on Jeffries.” This man was Walter C. Kelly, and when he made this bet, you were in your twelfth round, still fighting on. He had that much faith in you that no sooner did he say this, when a fellow grabbed him and took the bet. Then you were on the floor. I thought you wouldn’t get up but you came up again. In the thirteenth round you were knocked down again, you came up and so on until the fifteenth round. Did you notice at the end of the fifteenth round, Tex Rickard turned his back and didn’t want to look at the fight any more? The reason for this was the fact that you told him, ‘Don’t pick me up until I am dead.’ I could just imagine what you would have done to Johnson if you were in the same shape as you were in the days when you fought Peter Jackson. That thought ran through my mind at the time of the fight and I’ll never forget it.

One thing Jim, you didn’t insist upon fighting. You had retired and you can put it down in your little book that the public and the press really forced you into that fight. You were not a coward and went through with it. You answered the old bell every time and never showed one sign that you wanted to quite. When they carried you to your corner, everybody said ‘the most famous and gamest man in the world had been dethroned.’”

Jim and all the family went to the train with me. While standing at the depot I said to Jim, “I wish you and the family a lot of luck and good health. Goodbye Jim and if you ever come East, be my guest old pal. Goodbye.”
As the train was pulling out, I yelled at him “And I would like to punch you in the nose too, you big book.” Then the train started to back up. Jeff came running toward me and shouted, “What did you say?” “Why Jeff, I said, you can punch me in the nose too.” The train started on forward and I finished with, “Drop me a line once in a while.” “O.K. Edie.” “O.K. Jim.”

While rolling through the night into the desert, in the morning the conductor came along to collect the tickets. I was worn out and depressed. He took one look at me and said, “Say Mister, you sure do look blue, what’s the matter, did you leave your sweetie behind?” “Mister Conductor, my sweetie happens to be a male. Do you know Jim Jeffries?” “Of course I do, what a man.” “Well, he is the sweetie I left behind. It was back in 1895, Uncle Sam sent me out to California. He was the first young man that attracted my attention. We became pals and are still pals now in 1934. I am mighty thankful that I was fortunate enough to have found a friend like him. He is a real true friend, never doubts your word. I tried to joke and be happy at our parting, but believe me I had all I could do to keep the tears from my eyes, when I said goodbye to Jim. I had a lump in my throat which must have been my heart. He had an expression on his face that made me feel that he felt the same way as I did at our parting, as I am sure he too, was wondering if we will ever meet again.”

 

Fascinating stuff, have read previous stories of Jeffries generosity, read a story in the past of him meeting former bareknuckle great Jem Mace when Mace had again fallen onto hard times where Jeff basically emptied his pockets to help Jem out. Nice to see Jeffries getting some focus. Have been reading Adam Pollacks series on the early heavyweight champions and is easy to forget just how well Jim was perceived at the time. A true great in every sense of the word.

Thanks for sharing Clay.