newsletter vol 2 no 6
Posted: 22 Feb 2008, 10:03
The Boxing Biographies Newsletter
Volume 2- No 6 21st February , 2008
http://www.boxingbiographies.com
If you wish to receive future newsletters please email the message “NEWS LETTER” [email protected]
As always the full versions of these articles are on the website
The Nelson Family, One of the Oldest
and Most Blue-Blooded in Historic
Old Denmark.
THE CHAMPION COMES OF THAT GRAND OLD
DANISH FIGHTING STOCK.
BY BATTLING NELSON,
Lightweight Champion of the World. My full name is Oscar Battling Matthew Nelson. I was born on June 5, 1882 in Copenhagen, Denmark, the day on which we Danes celebrate the winning of Independence. Though born on foreign soil I herewith proclaim myself an American in every sense of the word.
When scarcely one year old my parents and their small family emigrated to this glorious land of the free, and the home of the brave. This was in 1883. Father and Mother had relatives in the West, and therefore we did not tarry long in New York. We landed in Oshkosh, Wis., that fall, and settled down on a neat little truck farm which father had purchased. We remained there one year after which we moved to Dalton, 111., a place not far from Chicago proper. The following Spring we moved to our present home Hegewisch, Ill. Therefore the Nelsons have been residing in Hegewisch for 23 years or more.
THE BATTLER GOES TO HEGEWISCH SCHOOL.
I was sent to the Henry Clay school when six years old, and continued to master English until I was 13. Hegewisch is located within a short distance of Wolf Lake and Lake Michigan, one of the largest bodies of fresh water in the world.. The chief industries of this thriving little town in those days were truck gardening, Ice cutting, and meat packing. The lakes in the vicinity each winter gave up tons upon tons of beautiful clear ice which was shipped to all parts of the country. The winter seasons found nearly every able bodied man, youths, and mere kids like myself employed cutting, storing and packing the big cold cakes for the Chicago market. Boys were employed to drive the horses used for hauling the ice. I showed an early aptitude for the business, and secured a steady position with John Daline, the ICE MAN of Hegewisch. My first week's work netted me 90 cents, or 15 cents per day.
I remained in Daline's employ all Winter, and as I had been attentive to business and worked hard Mr. Daline appealed to my father to allow me to continue in his employ. I wanted to go back to work in preference to going back to school.
I forged ahead gradually, and before I quit Daline to enter the employ of the G. H. Hammond Co., I was drawing one dollar a day. I picked up the fine points of the business rapidly and from driver was promoted to cutter, timekeeper, and finally assistant foreman. During this time I was going to night school.
It was this early taste of heavy, hard outdoor work which served to build up and make a strong, sturdy "kid" of me. Though not very tall I was stockily built for a youngster, and when I quit the Hammond Company I was really doing a man's work.
HE FIGHTS CIRCUS CHAMPION.
I was in the employ of this company when I made my first public appearance as a boxer, or prizefighter, at Wallace's Circus, in Hammond, Ind., on Sept. 3, 1896. Hammond is only a few miles from Hegewisch. At the time I was working as a meat cutter. On account of the warm weather we were working only three or four days a week and, of course, being such a kid, I was anxious to see the circus when it arrived in town. I applied there and asked for the job of carrying a banner in the parade, or carrying water to the elephants.
The manager lined us up in the parade and after its conclusion we kids were put to work carrying water to the elephants, for which work we were handed passes for the show. I had gained quite a reputation about Hammond and Hegewisch as a shifty, hard-hitting sort of a kid and naturally my ability as a boxer was greatly admired by all the youngsters in our vicinity, most of whom worked in the factories thereabouts.
We learned that Wallace had a world renowned prize fighter traveling with the big show who was meeting all comers. The strangest part of the affair was the fact that no one seemed to know just who he was or where he had won his reputation as a "maneater." Wallace positively refused to divulge his identity.
COMRADE MAKES BOLD CHALLENGE.
We here in front of the main entrance of the show long before the affair had opened, and one of my comrades, who possessed an unusual amount of nerve, boldly stepped into the manager's tent and said : "Say, boss, we've gotta feller here wid us named Bat Nelson wot's willin' to meet dat champ of yourn to-night. What would you give if our champ knocks de block off you great slugging unknown "
The old manager, used to such 'incidents as this, laughed heartily and said: "Well, if your pal stands up the full three rounds necessary before my man, why I'll give him a dollar. Besides, if he should actually manage to win, why I'll give him a chance to try each succeeding night."
That suited me to a nicety, and while we all enjoyed the show very much we were all anxious to hear the big lusty-lunged ringmaster announce the "main scream" of the evening's entertainment, the appearance of the sensational whirlwind lightweight wonder-fighting champion of the world Wallace's unknown.
My fighting togs consisted of a thin well-worn, red sweater in which I worked and a pair of low rubber shoes. The big, white tent was packed to suffocation with citizens of Hammond, Hegewisch, South Chicago, and other small burgs thereabouts. Three of my brothers were there and, of course, were unaware of the fact that I was awaiting my turn to tackle the "Demon”to go into the sawdust covered arena and dance before the public for the first time as a fighter.
STING OF DEATH IN EVERY BLOW.
The manager of the show grabbed me roughly by the shoulder and hustled me into a side tent saying: "Now, kid, be game and don't allow this fierce man-eater to kill you. He hits like a trip-hammer and the very sting of death is in every blow."
Now, kind reader, you can easily depict the string of chills and thrills which chased themselves up, down and across my spinal column. The sea of faces, the roaring of the lions and other wild animals, and the wonderful glare of the hundreds of flaming lights were sufficient to unnerve anyone. Inside the tent I met face to face the terrible Unknown. He was stripped for action already, and was nervously pacing the floor like a caged tiger, ready to spring upon and throttle the innocent lamb (the dub who was to face him).
The manager, with a growl, said, addressing the Unknown, "Here, Jack, is Bat Nelson, who is going to try and win a dollar of your money to-night by staying on his feet for three rounds !"
Jack was as tough a looking fellow as I had ever seen or have met since. He stood about five feet six, and, of course, was a few inches taller than I. He possessed broad, compactly-built shoulders, had a square, heavy jaw, and, all in all, was a rather likely looking fellow. He would have passed for a twin brother of Kid Broad. I wasn't much on muscle or breadth of shoulders then, but 1 had worked hard and long for two years hauling ice, shovelling coal and doing some butchering also, and, for a kid, had a beaut of a sleep producer myself.
Jack would hardly look at me and he growled, "All right, we'll see him stand it out."
BAT NELSON THE PACKING-HOUSE PRIDE.
Then the band played "Down Went McGinty," and the big audience roared in laughter as the announcer sang out that one, Bat Nelson, the Packing-house Pride, would take the chance of his life and attempt to stand up before the ferocious onslaughts of "Wallace's Wonderful U'nknown."
They say that my elder brother, Albert, fell off his seat, close to where the ring was pitched, from sheer excitement when I was tamely led into the ring : that my little brother Harry tossed up both hands and fainted dead away of fright. But my faithful gang was there and ready to see me through, even if they had to break up the circus and kill all the wild animals. I became a bit cheerful when I saw them settled about the ringside, all apparently supremely confident.
It didn't take long for us to get started, though I must say I felt awfully queer when the bell clanged and the announcer cried "Fight!"
THE GREAT "UNKNOWN" IS TAMED.
Round One He made a bound at me before the gong had ceased to chime, and everybody expected me to toss up both arms and go down and out. But I didn't! If ever he made a mistake in his life he made it here trying his rushing tactics on me, the best, even then, of all kid rushers. I met his rush flatfooted, with both hands set in front of me, the left a bit high and out. On he came and collided with that trusty left of mine with such force that I almost tossed him to the sawdust.
Back he went staggering, with blood streaming from his nose and mouth. I had not been touched. I then jumped forward and whaled in a terrific right uppercut which landed squarely over his heart. He was pawing the air like a bronco now, and his trainers were frantically crying out : "Knock his block off. Jack ! Rush him through the ropes ! Don't let that dub beat you !"
Yes, and I have to give it to Jack for his gameness. He came right back at me and handed out a hard jolt flush to my jaw. That one crack set the house roaring for my opponent, but Mr. Unknown, after landing, forgot to get out of the way, and over flashed my left to his jaw, while I countered hard with right to the wind. Then something dropped like a bundle of lead into the deep sawdust. It was Wallace's Terrible Unknown Wallace's Ferocious Maneater.
He wallowed in the sawdust like a chicken with its head cut off, completely knocked out. His seconds rushed over to where he lay and dashed buckets of water over him in an attempt to revive him. The house was in a tumult of excitement now.
My gang danced about me singing "Down Went the Unknown," with "McGinty" and other songs. The sensational evening will hardly be forgotten in Hammond even to this day.
CIRCUS OFFERS BAT A JOB.
The manager of the defeated fighter, of course, was greatly put out over the easy manner in which I dusted his wonder into oblivion, and naturally wanted me to play a return engagement the next evening. He, in desperation, followed me home to Hegewisch and wanted to sign me up to travel with the circus, offering a salary of $50 per week and my expenses However, my parents wouldn't listen to such a proposition at the time, informing him that I was needed at home and was entirely too young to travel with such an affair.
When the excitement that prevailed had subsided I asked the boys what had become of my coat and vest. Much to my chagrin I discovered that some of the circus hands had stolen the coat which contained my week's salary of $5.40 and a dandy Waterbury watch. We paid a visit to Mr. Manager the next day and made an attempt to recover my property, but with little success.
I had, however, decisively trounced their star boxer, and there was at least some satisfaction in that. It was that opening win which unquestionably started the boxing bee in my bonnet, and if old Wallace is alive to-day and reads this story I guess he'll laugh heartily over that great night's fun. Just ten years after this, my first victory, I fought the first battle with Joe Gans for the lightweight championship of the world at Goldfield, Nev., Sept. 3, 1906. Ten years doesn't seem very long, but it made a difference in size of purses with me from $1 to $23,000. Going up a bit!
The Battler Meets Ole Olson, Then Pride of Hegewisch.
THEY FOUGHT AT THE NOW FAMOUS WHITE
HOUSE CLUB, ON JUNE 5th, 1897.
It was the early taste of heavy, hard outdoor work which served to build up and make a strong, sturdy "kid" of me. Though not very tall, I was stockily built for a youngster, and when I quit the Hammond Company I was really doing a man's work.
In 1897 I engaged in one bout at home with Ole Olson, and of course I won it. The Swede at the time had gained the reputation in Hegewisch and vicinity as being the best kid scrapper going. We had a boy's athletic club in Hegewisch called the White House Club, which was organized immediately after my decisive victory over Wallace's Unknown. Ole Olson questioned my right to pose as the champion of Hegewisch, and a battle was arranged between us.
The town was, as it is now, populated mostly by Swedes and Danes, and there were about an equal number of each residing there at the time of the fight. The Swedes naturally took Olson's part, and, of course, the sterling Danes all supported me. We fought for a purse of $3, my end being put up by the club members. It was on a Sunday afternoon, and I will never forget the day. The rivalry of the two factions was intense, and many good-sized bets were made on the affair.
OLSON GETS A LICKING.
Olson, like the Unknown, had it on me both in height, reach and weight, but, despite this, I felt confident I could best him that day.
In the opening round Olson went after me to make short work of it, and I certainly had to fight good and hard to stall off his fierce rushes and heavy infighting. At the conclusion of this round it was pretty even at that. Again in the second round he continued to carry the fight to me, and at times had me covering up to avoid punishment. During these hard mix-ups, however, I was sending in telling left upper-cuts, which were, as far as I could see, fast getting Ole's goat.
I was the aggressor before the second round was up, and when the bell tingled calling us up for the third and final round I was on top of my opponent in a jiffy. I handed him a series of heavy swings and short-arm jolts at close quarters which knocked all the fight out of him. I knocked him down a few times, and when he came in at me I handed over a straight left which floored -him. He cried "enough."
SWEDES AND DANES IN BATTLE ROYAL.
My stock immediately soared to the skies. During the excitement after the knockout the Swedes, angered over the defeat of their pride, started a war of extermination with us Danes. Then and there the trouble began and some fun as well. We lined up in the White House yard and the two factions charged each other, each side willing to go "the derby," or Battler's route, or die. It was the dandiest battle royal I ever took part in and there was more good old-fashioned excitement in Hegewisch that day than has ever been since. I was triumphantly carried off the battlefield to my home by my admirers, and many times since, when over-enthusiastic fight fans have loaded me on their shoulders and- carried me out of the ring, have I recalled pleasantly that memorable afternoon in Hegewisch of long, long ago. I need not add that we Danes won the free-for-all fight.
After this battle I had an argument at home because of the affair, and I ran away from home. "Going away, ma, to seek my fortune," was the childish note which I mailed to ma from Hegewisch on the evening of June 15. 1897. Ma still has this letter, and she is a witness to the fact that "I made good" my childish brag.
I headed northward, beating my way in slow stages and working at odd jobs. I landed in Huron, S. Dak., about the middle part of July, a sadder and much wiser little lad. My two great victories, as I called them, over the Unknown and the champion of Hegewisch, Olson, had caused the fighting bee to get busy in my bonnet. I secured a position in Kimmel & Edler's meat market in Huron at $15 per month, and worked steadily until Christmas Day. I demanded $20 a month, and when it was refused me I quit.
Trenton Times
29 February 1904
Sharkey a “Has Been”
Munroe Won Bout
Miner Will Fight Jeffries for Championship
But It Will Be a
Shame to Allow It.
Partly because Tom Sharkey has gone so far back as to qualify as a "has been' and partly because Jack Munroe has Improved considerably under The tutelage of the clever "Kid" McCoy, the lucky miner gained a decisive victory over the sailor Saturday night in a six round bout In Philadelphia.
Champion Jeffries, who saw the fight ,says he w ill meet Munroe according to his announcement previous to the bout.The fight was a rushing, slashing, rough and tumble affair without even the faintest suspicion of cleverness.
While Munroe is the next logical opponent of the champion, time will prove that he is the weakest Jeffries ever met since he won the title from Fitzsimmons on that memorable night in June, 1899. at the barn like structure of the Coney Island Athletic Club His showing against Sharkey on Saturday night warrants the assertion.
The sailor has only had three contests in as many years, two of which he lost, one on a foul in the first round to Pete Everett, the greatest counterfeit of a boxer who ever crossed the Mississippi river .It is only reasonable to suppose that through the lack of training he had lost much of his speed, judgment of distance and punishing power . Handicapped thus, It should have been an easy task for Munroe, who enjoyed other great advantages of 2 inches of additional reach, 14 pounds in weight, 3 Inches in height and four years of youth to beat the sailor within the prescribed six rounds.
The ease with which Sharkey reached Munroe removes the latter as being a dangerous opponent of Champion Jeffries, or, in fact, any boxer in the heavy-weight division who possesses skill and has a good pair of hands.
The miners discerning manager made capital out of the fiasco with Jeffries at Butte, Mont. His ascension to the ranks of a possible opponent for the champion offers another vehicle f6r unlimited advertising, and the ex-Californian, professional football player can be heralded over the country as the victor over Sharkey and match, to meet Jeffries There are enough people In the country who are willing to pay to have their curiosity satisfied: and Munroe can meet, all comers at wrestling—for he is a sturdy one at that game and gather in considerable money.
This unfortunate account of his supposed death at the war front appeared in The Washington Post 13 August 1915
PUGILIST DIES AT FRONT
Jack Munroe Meets Heroic Death
in France.
HAD AN ADVENTUROUS CAREER
Butte Man Fought Jeffries for World's
Championship and Whipped Sharkey,
Maher and Others—Got Rich Prospecting
for Cobalt in Canada—Death Reported
by Frank Moran from England
Special to The Washington Post
New York, Aug 12—
Jack Munroe who once fought Jim Jeffries for the world s championship, lies dead somewhere in northern France or Belgium Frank Moran, just back from England, says he read Munroe's name in the list of killed and heard his heroic death spoken of several times by wounded soldiers furloughed from the fighting lines
Jack Munroe had about as adventurous life as any man that ever followed the ring Playing tackle on the Butte football team he helped clean up all the big college and club teams between Chicago and San Francisco Later, Munroe threw the hammer and put the shot He was a great athlete
Became Amateur Champion.
While playing football he visited Jack O'Brien's training camp one day and became interested in boxing entering the coast championships at the Olympic Club he knocked out three rivals and became heavyweight amateur champion He turned professional and fought Jim Jeffries four rounds, winning the purse offered to any one who would stay. Munroe modestly said he "played football with Jeff" Jeff went to his knees, once and it was said Munroe knocked him down ,
Made Fortune Prospecting.
Clark Ball "grabbed" Munroe and took him east Here he whipped Tom Sharkey, knocking him down with a. straight left to the jaw, knocked out Al Limerick, Peter Maher and several others He showed himself a game, rough and ready, good-natured fellow. Be fought Jack Johnson six rounds.His finish came when he fought Jeffries a return match In Frisco, and was quickly knocked out.
After that Munroe went North, prospecting in the Canadian wilderness. He was first on the ground in the big cobalt discoveries and his claims made him a rich man For several years he was mayor of Elk City, a responsible capitalist and a member of many clubs In Canadian cities.
The Syracuse Herald
21 January 1916
Jack Munroe’s Right Arm Is destroyed By A Shell
Man Who Floored Jim Jeffries Is Now Patient in Hospital
After Having Been Maimed During Battle
the giant football player-miner, who fought Jim Jeffries twice when the latter was champion of the world, has Just suffered a loss of his right arm while serving at the front in France with Princess Patricia's Own, better known as the Princess Pats, the crack Canadian regiment.
A fragment of a shell shattered Munroe's arm so badly that it was amputated at the elbow. In a letter to Harry Hastings, a New York friend Munroe says; “I’m sorry to have to tell you old boy but the next time I meet you in New York I will have to offer you my left hand. My right arm has been shot off at the elbow. I am in a London 'hospital -and will have to undergo another operation. There is Something wrong with the circulation in the arm and they deem it necessary to operate again. I'm cheery through it all, for I know it might have been a lot worse.
"I had pals shot down, time after time, right at my side. For a time I thought I led a charmed life. I guess I did at that. I've given my little for the cause, and even now I don't regret it.
What War Is.
"It's been hell, though, old man. I long to get back. I'd give anything to see New York right now Harry. More when I see you. One of the nurses is writing this for the old mayor of Elk City. I suppose that I will have to begin my school days Over again and learn to write with my left. More when I see you. Regards to any of the boys who ask for me."
Munroe joined the crack Princess Pats when a call for volunteers spread through Canada. -He was mayor of Elk City, Ont, at the time he enlisted. The regiment, now almost wiped out, was the finest body of men to serve the King. -Every man had to be six feet tall or more and a splendid specimen of physical manhood. The "Pats" were subjected to terrific fire from the very first. Out of a total of 1000 men that went into battle only ninety-two escaped death or injury at the time the last official report reached Canada. Munroe was wounded several times
before a. spent piece of shell ended his career as a soldier.
On the occasion of his first meeting with the worlds champion, Jim Jeffries , the title holder was touring the country agreeing to knock out any man who would face him for four rounds.
He Dropped Jeffries
Jeffries arrived at Butte, Mont, where Munroe was working as a mine boss in December 1902. Jack was a handy man about the camp with his fists and he didn’t hesitate a moment when Jeffries offered to meet any man in town for four rounds. If he failed to knock out his victim Jeffries agreed to forfeit a substantial portion of the gate receipts . Munroe not only went the distance but he succeeded in bringing Jeffries to his knees with a punch. Jim always claimed he slipped on a wet spot but that didn’t’ prevent Munroe’s name flying road the world.
The great Jeffries had been floored and by a big miner. Every paper in the world that boasted a sports page printed the story of Munroe’s un expected achievement. Jeffries in a rage followed Munroe about the country for two years before he got him into the ring to fight for the heavyweight championship for the world .
Tim McGrath took Munroe in toe and prepared him for the fight with Jeffries, the bout taking place in mechanic’s Pavilion at San Francisco on 26 August 1904. McGrath brought Munroe to a pitch where he thought he really had a chance to win the worlds title. His efforts however were like those of a baby.
Munroe was completely outclassed and went out from a punch on the jaw In two rounds. He fought after that several times, his best performance being against Tom Sharkey in Philadelphia, on which occasion the bout was stopped inside of six rounds.
Harry Hastings -the man to whom Munroe addressed his letter, was a well known bookmaker the time Munroe floored Jeffries In Montana. When Jack came East he went into partnership with Hasting in a book on the race track. With this money and his end of the mining and timber land. He made money quickly, and when he left for the front with the famous "Pats" he was rated a wealthy man.
Volume 2- No 6 21st February , 2008
http://www.boxingbiographies.com
If you wish to receive future newsletters please email the message “NEWS LETTER” [email protected]
As always the full versions of these articles are on the website
The Nelson Family, One of the Oldest
and Most Blue-Blooded in Historic
Old Denmark.
THE CHAMPION COMES OF THAT GRAND OLD
DANISH FIGHTING STOCK.
BY BATTLING NELSON,
Lightweight Champion of the World. My full name is Oscar Battling Matthew Nelson. I was born on June 5, 1882 in Copenhagen, Denmark, the day on which we Danes celebrate the winning of Independence. Though born on foreign soil I herewith proclaim myself an American in every sense of the word.
When scarcely one year old my parents and their small family emigrated to this glorious land of the free, and the home of the brave. This was in 1883. Father and Mother had relatives in the West, and therefore we did not tarry long in New York. We landed in Oshkosh, Wis., that fall, and settled down on a neat little truck farm which father had purchased. We remained there one year after which we moved to Dalton, 111., a place not far from Chicago proper. The following Spring we moved to our present home Hegewisch, Ill. Therefore the Nelsons have been residing in Hegewisch for 23 years or more.
THE BATTLER GOES TO HEGEWISCH SCHOOL.
I was sent to the Henry Clay school when six years old, and continued to master English until I was 13. Hegewisch is located within a short distance of Wolf Lake and Lake Michigan, one of the largest bodies of fresh water in the world.. The chief industries of this thriving little town in those days were truck gardening, Ice cutting, and meat packing. The lakes in the vicinity each winter gave up tons upon tons of beautiful clear ice which was shipped to all parts of the country. The winter seasons found nearly every able bodied man, youths, and mere kids like myself employed cutting, storing and packing the big cold cakes for the Chicago market. Boys were employed to drive the horses used for hauling the ice. I showed an early aptitude for the business, and secured a steady position with John Daline, the ICE MAN of Hegewisch. My first week's work netted me 90 cents, or 15 cents per day.
I remained in Daline's employ all Winter, and as I had been attentive to business and worked hard Mr. Daline appealed to my father to allow me to continue in his employ. I wanted to go back to work in preference to going back to school.
I forged ahead gradually, and before I quit Daline to enter the employ of the G. H. Hammond Co., I was drawing one dollar a day. I picked up the fine points of the business rapidly and from driver was promoted to cutter, timekeeper, and finally assistant foreman. During this time I was going to night school.
It was this early taste of heavy, hard outdoor work which served to build up and make a strong, sturdy "kid" of me. Though not very tall I was stockily built for a youngster, and when I quit the Hammond Company I was really doing a man's work.
HE FIGHTS CIRCUS CHAMPION.
I was in the employ of this company when I made my first public appearance as a boxer, or prizefighter, at Wallace's Circus, in Hammond, Ind., on Sept. 3, 1896. Hammond is only a few miles from Hegewisch. At the time I was working as a meat cutter. On account of the warm weather we were working only three or four days a week and, of course, being such a kid, I was anxious to see the circus when it arrived in town. I applied there and asked for the job of carrying a banner in the parade, or carrying water to the elephants.
The manager lined us up in the parade and after its conclusion we kids were put to work carrying water to the elephants, for which work we were handed passes for the show. I had gained quite a reputation about Hammond and Hegewisch as a shifty, hard-hitting sort of a kid and naturally my ability as a boxer was greatly admired by all the youngsters in our vicinity, most of whom worked in the factories thereabouts.
We learned that Wallace had a world renowned prize fighter traveling with the big show who was meeting all comers. The strangest part of the affair was the fact that no one seemed to know just who he was or where he had won his reputation as a "maneater." Wallace positively refused to divulge his identity.
COMRADE MAKES BOLD CHALLENGE.
We here in front of the main entrance of the show long before the affair had opened, and one of my comrades, who possessed an unusual amount of nerve, boldly stepped into the manager's tent and said : "Say, boss, we've gotta feller here wid us named Bat Nelson wot's willin' to meet dat champ of yourn to-night. What would you give if our champ knocks de block off you great slugging unknown "
The old manager, used to such 'incidents as this, laughed heartily and said: "Well, if your pal stands up the full three rounds necessary before my man, why I'll give him a dollar. Besides, if he should actually manage to win, why I'll give him a chance to try each succeeding night."
That suited me to a nicety, and while we all enjoyed the show very much we were all anxious to hear the big lusty-lunged ringmaster announce the "main scream" of the evening's entertainment, the appearance of the sensational whirlwind lightweight wonder-fighting champion of the world Wallace's unknown.
My fighting togs consisted of a thin well-worn, red sweater in which I worked and a pair of low rubber shoes. The big, white tent was packed to suffocation with citizens of Hammond, Hegewisch, South Chicago, and other small burgs thereabouts. Three of my brothers were there and, of course, were unaware of the fact that I was awaiting my turn to tackle the "Demon”to go into the sawdust covered arena and dance before the public for the first time as a fighter.
STING OF DEATH IN EVERY BLOW.
The manager of the show grabbed me roughly by the shoulder and hustled me into a side tent saying: "Now, kid, be game and don't allow this fierce man-eater to kill you. He hits like a trip-hammer and the very sting of death is in every blow."
Now, kind reader, you can easily depict the string of chills and thrills which chased themselves up, down and across my spinal column. The sea of faces, the roaring of the lions and other wild animals, and the wonderful glare of the hundreds of flaming lights were sufficient to unnerve anyone. Inside the tent I met face to face the terrible Unknown. He was stripped for action already, and was nervously pacing the floor like a caged tiger, ready to spring upon and throttle the innocent lamb (the dub who was to face him).
The manager, with a growl, said, addressing the Unknown, "Here, Jack, is Bat Nelson, who is going to try and win a dollar of your money to-night by staying on his feet for three rounds !"
Jack was as tough a looking fellow as I had ever seen or have met since. He stood about five feet six, and, of course, was a few inches taller than I. He possessed broad, compactly-built shoulders, had a square, heavy jaw, and, all in all, was a rather likely looking fellow. He would have passed for a twin brother of Kid Broad. I wasn't much on muscle or breadth of shoulders then, but 1 had worked hard and long for two years hauling ice, shovelling coal and doing some butchering also, and, for a kid, had a beaut of a sleep producer myself.
Jack would hardly look at me and he growled, "All right, we'll see him stand it out."
BAT NELSON THE PACKING-HOUSE PRIDE.
Then the band played "Down Went McGinty," and the big audience roared in laughter as the announcer sang out that one, Bat Nelson, the Packing-house Pride, would take the chance of his life and attempt to stand up before the ferocious onslaughts of "Wallace's Wonderful U'nknown."
They say that my elder brother, Albert, fell off his seat, close to where the ring was pitched, from sheer excitement when I was tamely led into the ring : that my little brother Harry tossed up both hands and fainted dead away of fright. But my faithful gang was there and ready to see me through, even if they had to break up the circus and kill all the wild animals. I became a bit cheerful when I saw them settled about the ringside, all apparently supremely confident.
It didn't take long for us to get started, though I must say I felt awfully queer when the bell clanged and the announcer cried "Fight!"
THE GREAT "UNKNOWN" IS TAMED.
Round One He made a bound at me before the gong had ceased to chime, and everybody expected me to toss up both arms and go down and out. But I didn't! If ever he made a mistake in his life he made it here trying his rushing tactics on me, the best, even then, of all kid rushers. I met his rush flatfooted, with both hands set in front of me, the left a bit high and out. On he came and collided with that trusty left of mine with such force that I almost tossed him to the sawdust.
Back he went staggering, with blood streaming from his nose and mouth. I had not been touched. I then jumped forward and whaled in a terrific right uppercut which landed squarely over his heart. He was pawing the air like a bronco now, and his trainers were frantically crying out : "Knock his block off. Jack ! Rush him through the ropes ! Don't let that dub beat you !"
Yes, and I have to give it to Jack for his gameness. He came right back at me and handed out a hard jolt flush to my jaw. That one crack set the house roaring for my opponent, but Mr. Unknown, after landing, forgot to get out of the way, and over flashed my left to his jaw, while I countered hard with right to the wind. Then something dropped like a bundle of lead into the deep sawdust. It was Wallace's Terrible Unknown Wallace's Ferocious Maneater.
He wallowed in the sawdust like a chicken with its head cut off, completely knocked out. His seconds rushed over to where he lay and dashed buckets of water over him in an attempt to revive him. The house was in a tumult of excitement now.
My gang danced about me singing "Down Went the Unknown," with "McGinty" and other songs. The sensational evening will hardly be forgotten in Hammond even to this day.
CIRCUS OFFERS BAT A JOB.
The manager of the defeated fighter, of course, was greatly put out over the easy manner in which I dusted his wonder into oblivion, and naturally wanted me to play a return engagement the next evening. He, in desperation, followed me home to Hegewisch and wanted to sign me up to travel with the circus, offering a salary of $50 per week and my expenses However, my parents wouldn't listen to such a proposition at the time, informing him that I was needed at home and was entirely too young to travel with such an affair.
When the excitement that prevailed had subsided I asked the boys what had become of my coat and vest. Much to my chagrin I discovered that some of the circus hands had stolen the coat which contained my week's salary of $5.40 and a dandy Waterbury watch. We paid a visit to Mr. Manager the next day and made an attempt to recover my property, but with little success.
I had, however, decisively trounced their star boxer, and there was at least some satisfaction in that. It was that opening win which unquestionably started the boxing bee in my bonnet, and if old Wallace is alive to-day and reads this story I guess he'll laugh heartily over that great night's fun. Just ten years after this, my first victory, I fought the first battle with Joe Gans for the lightweight championship of the world at Goldfield, Nev., Sept. 3, 1906. Ten years doesn't seem very long, but it made a difference in size of purses with me from $1 to $23,000. Going up a bit!
The Battler Meets Ole Olson, Then Pride of Hegewisch.
THEY FOUGHT AT THE NOW FAMOUS WHITE
HOUSE CLUB, ON JUNE 5th, 1897.
It was the early taste of heavy, hard outdoor work which served to build up and make a strong, sturdy "kid" of me. Though not very tall, I was stockily built for a youngster, and when I quit the Hammond Company I was really doing a man's work.
In 1897 I engaged in one bout at home with Ole Olson, and of course I won it. The Swede at the time had gained the reputation in Hegewisch and vicinity as being the best kid scrapper going. We had a boy's athletic club in Hegewisch called the White House Club, which was organized immediately after my decisive victory over Wallace's Unknown. Ole Olson questioned my right to pose as the champion of Hegewisch, and a battle was arranged between us.
The town was, as it is now, populated mostly by Swedes and Danes, and there were about an equal number of each residing there at the time of the fight. The Swedes naturally took Olson's part, and, of course, the sterling Danes all supported me. We fought for a purse of $3, my end being put up by the club members. It was on a Sunday afternoon, and I will never forget the day. The rivalry of the two factions was intense, and many good-sized bets were made on the affair.
OLSON GETS A LICKING.
Olson, like the Unknown, had it on me both in height, reach and weight, but, despite this, I felt confident I could best him that day.
In the opening round Olson went after me to make short work of it, and I certainly had to fight good and hard to stall off his fierce rushes and heavy infighting. At the conclusion of this round it was pretty even at that. Again in the second round he continued to carry the fight to me, and at times had me covering up to avoid punishment. During these hard mix-ups, however, I was sending in telling left upper-cuts, which were, as far as I could see, fast getting Ole's goat.
I was the aggressor before the second round was up, and when the bell tingled calling us up for the third and final round I was on top of my opponent in a jiffy. I handed him a series of heavy swings and short-arm jolts at close quarters which knocked all the fight out of him. I knocked him down a few times, and when he came in at me I handed over a straight left which floored -him. He cried "enough."
SWEDES AND DANES IN BATTLE ROYAL.
My stock immediately soared to the skies. During the excitement after the knockout the Swedes, angered over the defeat of their pride, started a war of extermination with us Danes. Then and there the trouble began and some fun as well. We lined up in the White House yard and the two factions charged each other, each side willing to go "the derby," or Battler's route, or die. It was the dandiest battle royal I ever took part in and there was more good old-fashioned excitement in Hegewisch that day than has ever been since. I was triumphantly carried off the battlefield to my home by my admirers, and many times since, when over-enthusiastic fight fans have loaded me on their shoulders and- carried me out of the ring, have I recalled pleasantly that memorable afternoon in Hegewisch of long, long ago. I need not add that we Danes won the free-for-all fight.
After this battle I had an argument at home because of the affair, and I ran away from home. "Going away, ma, to seek my fortune," was the childish note which I mailed to ma from Hegewisch on the evening of June 15. 1897. Ma still has this letter, and she is a witness to the fact that "I made good" my childish brag.
I headed northward, beating my way in slow stages and working at odd jobs. I landed in Huron, S. Dak., about the middle part of July, a sadder and much wiser little lad. My two great victories, as I called them, over the Unknown and the champion of Hegewisch, Olson, had caused the fighting bee to get busy in my bonnet. I secured a position in Kimmel & Edler's meat market in Huron at $15 per month, and worked steadily until Christmas Day. I demanded $20 a month, and when it was refused me I quit.
Trenton Times
29 February 1904
Sharkey a “Has Been”
Munroe Won Bout
Miner Will Fight Jeffries for Championship
But It Will Be a
Shame to Allow It.
Partly because Tom Sharkey has gone so far back as to qualify as a "has been' and partly because Jack Munroe has Improved considerably under The tutelage of the clever "Kid" McCoy, the lucky miner gained a decisive victory over the sailor Saturday night in a six round bout In Philadelphia.
Champion Jeffries, who saw the fight ,says he w ill meet Munroe according to his announcement previous to the bout.The fight was a rushing, slashing, rough and tumble affair without even the faintest suspicion of cleverness.
While Munroe is the next logical opponent of the champion, time will prove that he is the weakest Jeffries ever met since he won the title from Fitzsimmons on that memorable night in June, 1899. at the barn like structure of the Coney Island Athletic Club His showing against Sharkey on Saturday night warrants the assertion.
The sailor has only had three contests in as many years, two of which he lost, one on a foul in the first round to Pete Everett, the greatest counterfeit of a boxer who ever crossed the Mississippi river .It is only reasonable to suppose that through the lack of training he had lost much of his speed, judgment of distance and punishing power . Handicapped thus, It should have been an easy task for Munroe, who enjoyed other great advantages of 2 inches of additional reach, 14 pounds in weight, 3 Inches in height and four years of youth to beat the sailor within the prescribed six rounds.
The ease with which Sharkey reached Munroe removes the latter as being a dangerous opponent of Champion Jeffries, or, in fact, any boxer in the heavy-weight division who possesses skill and has a good pair of hands.
The miners discerning manager made capital out of the fiasco with Jeffries at Butte, Mont. His ascension to the ranks of a possible opponent for the champion offers another vehicle f6r unlimited advertising, and the ex-Californian, professional football player can be heralded over the country as the victor over Sharkey and match, to meet Jeffries There are enough people In the country who are willing to pay to have their curiosity satisfied: and Munroe can meet, all comers at wrestling—for he is a sturdy one at that game and gather in considerable money.
This unfortunate account of his supposed death at the war front appeared in The Washington Post 13 August 1915
PUGILIST DIES AT FRONT
Jack Munroe Meets Heroic Death
in France.
HAD AN ADVENTUROUS CAREER
Butte Man Fought Jeffries for World's
Championship and Whipped Sharkey,
Maher and Others—Got Rich Prospecting
for Cobalt in Canada—Death Reported
by Frank Moran from England
Special to The Washington Post
New York, Aug 12—
Jack Munroe who once fought Jim Jeffries for the world s championship, lies dead somewhere in northern France or Belgium Frank Moran, just back from England, says he read Munroe's name in the list of killed and heard his heroic death spoken of several times by wounded soldiers furloughed from the fighting lines
Jack Munroe had about as adventurous life as any man that ever followed the ring Playing tackle on the Butte football team he helped clean up all the big college and club teams between Chicago and San Francisco Later, Munroe threw the hammer and put the shot He was a great athlete
Became Amateur Champion.
While playing football he visited Jack O'Brien's training camp one day and became interested in boxing entering the coast championships at the Olympic Club he knocked out three rivals and became heavyweight amateur champion He turned professional and fought Jim Jeffries four rounds, winning the purse offered to any one who would stay. Munroe modestly said he "played football with Jeff" Jeff went to his knees, once and it was said Munroe knocked him down ,
Made Fortune Prospecting.
Clark Ball "grabbed" Munroe and took him east Here he whipped Tom Sharkey, knocking him down with a. straight left to the jaw, knocked out Al Limerick, Peter Maher and several others He showed himself a game, rough and ready, good-natured fellow. Be fought Jack Johnson six rounds.His finish came when he fought Jeffries a return match In Frisco, and was quickly knocked out.
After that Munroe went North, prospecting in the Canadian wilderness. He was first on the ground in the big cobalt discoveries and his claims made him a rich man For several years he was mayor of Elk City, a responsible capitalist and a member of many clubs In Canadian cities.
The Syracuse Herald
21 January 1916
Jack Munroe’s Right Arm Is destroyed By A Shell
Man Who Floored Jim Jeffries Is Now Patient in Hospital
After Having Been Maimed During Battle
the giant football player-miner, who fought Jim Jeffries twice when the latter was champion of the world, has Just suffered a loss of his right arm while serving at the front in France with Princess Patricia's Own, better known as the Princess Pats, the crack Canadian regiment.
A fragment of a shell shattered Munroe's arm so badly that it was amputated at the elbow. In a letter to Harry Hastings, a New York friend Munroe says; “I’m sorry to have to tell you old boy but the next time I meet you in New York I will have to offer you my left hand. My right arm has been shot off at the elbow. I am in a London 'hospital -and will have to undergo another operation. There is Something wrong with the circulation in the arm and they deem it necessary to operate again. I'm cheery through it all, for I know it might have been a lot worse.
"I had pals shot down, time after time, right at my side. For a time I thought I led a charmed life. I guess I did at that. I've given my little for the cause, and even now I don't regret it.
What War Is.
"It's been hell, though, old man. I long to get back. I'd give anything to see New York right now Harry. More when I see you. One of the nurses is writing this for the old mayor of Elk City. I suppose that I will have to begin my school days Over again and learn to write with my left. More when I see you. Regards to any of the boys who ask for me."
Munroe joined the crack Princess Pats when a call for volunteers spread through Canada. -He was mayor of Elk City, Ont, at the time he enlisted. The regiment, now almost wiped out, was the finest body of men to serve the King. -Every man had to be six feet tall or more and a splendid specimen of physical manhood. The "Pats" were subjected to terrific fire from the very first. Out of a total of 1000 men that went into battle only ninety-two escaped death or injury at the time the last official report reached Canada. Munroe was wounded several times
before a. spent piece of shell ended his career as a soldier.
On the occasion of his first meeting with the worlds champion, Jim Jeffries , the title holder was touring the country agreeing to knock out any man who would face him for four rounds.
He Dropped Jeffries
Jeffries arrived at Butte, Mont, where Munroe was working as a mine boss in December 1902. Jack was a handy man about the camp with his fists and he didn’t hesitate a moment when Jeffries offered to meet any man in town for four rounds. If he failed to knock out his victim Jeffries agreed to forfeit a substantial portion of the gate receipts . Munroe not only went the distance but he succeeded in bringing Jeffries to his knees with a punch. Jim always claimed he slipped on a wet spot but that didn’t’ prevent Munroe’s name flying road the world.
The great Jeffries had been floored and by a big miner. Every paper in the world that boasted a sports page printed the story of Munroe’s un expected achievement. Jeffries in a rage followed Munroe about the country for two years before he got him into the ring to fight for the heavyweight championship for the world .
Tim McGrath took Munroe in toe and prepared him for the fight with Jeffries, the bout taking place in mechanic’s Pavilion at San Francisco on 26 August 1904. McGrath brought Munroe to a pitch where he thought he really had a chance to win the worlds title. His efforts however were like those of a baby.
Munroe was completely outclassed and went out from a punch on the jaw In two rounds. He fought after that several times, his best performance being against Tom Sharkey in Philadelphia, on which occasion the bout was stopped inside of six rounds.
Harry Hastings -the man to whom Munroe addressed his letter, was a well known bookmaker the time Munroe floored Jeffries In Montana. When Jack came East he went into partnership with Hasting in a book on the race track. With this money and his end of the mining and timber land. He made money quickly, and when he left for the front with the famous "Pats" he was rated a wealthy man.