The evolution of baseball’s playing and scoring rules was a slow and turbulent process beginning in the nineteenth century. Apart from the early establishment of such basics as four bases and their 90-foot separations, there was plenty of experimenting along the way. Nor was consistency in place when the American League broke in in 1901. At various times, the foul strike, infield fly and balk rules differed between the leagues. World Series games, as today, were played by different rules in the NL and AL parks.

The lack of uniformity infected the scoring rules even more. Lacking an authoritative code, individual scorers used their own judgment and predilections, which raises questions of the validity of comparing certain stats from one era to another. There were times and places, for example, where base runners got credit for steals even if the pitch they ran on was put in play by the batter.

Later the leagues differed over what constituted an earned run. There were no standards for assigning wins and losses to pitchers; it was up to the official scorer. The autocratic Ban Johnson sometimes overruled a scorer and changed a WP or LP days or weeks after a game.

In 1913, when the number of complete games declined sharply in the American League, Philadelphia writer William Weart complained, “When there are so many changes in the box as there have been this season, it is more than the human mind can do to figure out who has won and who has lost the game. The won and lost column is bound to lead to ceaseless arguments.”

As if there wasn’t enough chaos, NL president John Heydler once suggested that scorers add errors of judgment to the box scores. The major league meetings in February 1913 were dull. There was little news. The two leagues spent more time discussing ways to speed up the game than anything else. (Truly, nothing has changed in baseball.) Average times in 1912 had been just under two hours.

The baseball writers spent most of their meeting wrangling over the lack of uniformity among the scorers. They agitated for someone to establish standards for pitchers’ wins and losses, and railed against the varying heights of pitchers’ mounds.

But the most contentious issue was the disparate treatment of a play in which the batter hit a ground ball to an infielder, with men on base, and the fielder attempted to throw out a base runner other than the batter, and failed. Example: man on second, one out, grounder to shortstop, runner heads for third, shortstop throws to third, runner slides in safely. Some scorers gave the batter a hit; some called it a fielders choice; some scored it as a sacrifice, since it advanced the runner.

Jack Ryder of the Cincinnati Enquirer was the most outspoken advocate for crediting the batter with a hit. He spoke so earnestly on the subject that the play was quickly dubbed a “Cincinnati Base Hit.”

Fred Lieb, New York Press, supported him. William Hanna, New York Sun, led the opposition, calling the idea “ridiculous.” At least one writer declared that he would never score it as a hit unless the league ordered him to do so.

Chairman Tom Rice, Brooklyn Eagle, appointed a committee to try to straighten out and reconcile the conflicting interpretations of the play. In addition to Rice, Lieb, Hanna and Ryder, the committee included George McLinn, Philadelphia Press. The committee failed to come to an agreement. So, in the interests of uniformity—not reason—Ban Johnson decreed that the Cincinnati base hit would be the official way to score the play. The Sporting News supported the decision, asking only for a clearer definition of the rule.

It lasted for one season.

During its lifetime, the rule resulted in the rare occurrence of a batter singling into a triple play. The Athletics were at Cleveland on May 16. In the bottom of the seventh, Doc Johnston was on third,

Ray Chapman on second, and Ivy Olson at bat. Olson hit a grounder to short. Barry bobbled the ball slightly. Johnston stuck close to third, but Chapman started toward third. Johnston then started for home. Barry threw to the catcher and Johnston was caught in a rundown. The catcher, Thomas, threw to Baker, who chased Johnston and threw to the pitcher Houck, who had come over to the third base line. Houck threw back to Barry who was now covering third. Barry tagged out Johnston. Chapman had held up between second and third. Meanwhile, Olson was heading for second. Barry threw to Collins, who tagged Olson for the second out. While that was going on, Chapman had rounded third and headed for the plate. Collins threw to Baker, who was now standing on home plate. Left fielder Rube Oldring, seeing third base unguarded, raced in from his position, took the throw from Baker and tagged Chapman trying to get back to third.

The official scorer gave Olson a single, one of only three known instances of a batter singling into a triple play.

The last Cincinnati base hit occurred on a play in which Fred Merkle was embroiled in another boner, less-remembered than his fateful 1908 base running adventure. It happened in the last game of the 1913 World Series between the Giants and Athletics. In the top of the third, the A’s had Eddie Murphy on third and Rube Oldring on second with one out. Frank Baker hit a dribbler down the first base line. Merkle raced in and picked it up. Baker started toward first, then stopped. Murphy started toward home, then stopped. A bewildered Merkle held the ball. The action froze like a tableau vivant. Murphy inched back toward third, then suddenly dashed for the plate. By the time Merkle woke up and threw to McLean at home, it was too late. Murphy scored while Baker sprinted past Merkle to first base. The official scorers credited Baker with a single.

The play provoked William Hanna to comment in the Sun,

“The absurdity of the Cincinnati base hit never was more clearly illustrated than in the fifth game of the World Series . . . Under the obnoxious scoring rule, Baker received credit for a base hit, when as a matter of common sense it should have been scored as a fielders choice. The attempt to give batsmen hits under such ridiculous conditions is decidedly unfair to pitchers and the rule has been condemned by practically all the managers and scorers.”

The Sun declared the Cincinnati base hit “doomed.”

And it was.

The Cincinnati Base Hit never made it into the official scoring rules. At the time Ban Johnson decreed it, nothing in the rules could be taken as either permitting or prohibiting it.

That winter the BBWAA conducted a mail vote on several proposed rule changes. The 187 members approved all the changes except the one that would have legitimized the Cincinnati Base Hit. Instead, they approved rule 85 section 4, defining a fielder’s choice in such a way as to seal its doom.

Jack (John Budd) Taylor had already earned his salty nickname, “Brewery Jack,” when he became the property of the Cincinnati Reds before the start of the 1899 season. The Reds’ purchased Taylor from St. Louis. Taylor, only 25 years old, had already appeared in eight major league seasons, achieving 20 or more wins three times (1894-96) with the Phillies. He was released by the Phillies in a trade with St. Louis in November 1897. Unfortunately, one of his hardest working seasons, 1898 (50 games, 47 starts, 42 complete games, 397 innings and a 3.90 ERA) was wasted on one of the all-time worst teams in baseball history, the 1898 Browns. Jack led St. Louis with 15 wins, but he also headed the league with 29 losses. At the end of the season, however, he was one of baseball’s most sought after pitchers.

Cincinnati Reds’ owner John T. Brush was everything that Brewery Jack wasn’t. He was highly self-disciplined, frugal and a man focused on financial success. Brush had started as a major league magnate in one of baseball’s smallest markets (Indianapolis) and would finish in baseball’s largest, as the owner of the New York Giants. He achieved this while afflicted with a painful degenerative spinal disease. As the driving force behind the league’s salary structure of the 1890s, he also crusaded against players imbibing and crafted a “temperance clause,” in all his players’ contracts. This clause called for a $700 fine for a player who could not perform due to the affects of consuming alcohol.

In 1899 the Cincinnatis finished sixth in the 12-team NL with Taylor appearing in only 24 games. He started 18 times and finished with nine wins and 10 losses. Jack’s $2,400 salary was the maximum allowed that year, under the league owners’ agreement. After two defeats, he won his first game at the end of April.

Then, in Cincinnati, on May 28, Jack Taylor had a terrible outing in relief. The supposed reason for his poor performance was alluded to the following Thursday, a day after the Reds started play in New York.

New York, (Wednesday) May 31 — The story from Cincinnati that one of the Reds’ pitchers—undeniably Jack Taylor was referred to—had been out late Saturday night (May 27) and had indulged in the flowing bowl to the extent that he was unable to do himself justice on the rubber in Sunday’s game, has aroused the greatest indignation among Cincinnati players. It also set Captain Ewing [future Hall of Famer, Buck Ewing, then the Reds manager] about making an investigation, which came to a satisfactory result, and by which Taylor was exonerated of the charges. Miller [Reds CF Dusty Miller] and Steinfeldt [Reds 3B Harry Steinfeldt] were the principal witnesses for Taylor, and it was their testimony that Taylor was cleared of the charges. Both men told Captain Ewing that they were in front of the Gerdes Hotel [in Cincinnati] Saturday evening when Taylor and his wife came in and that was a long time before they themselves retired. They claim that they had sat up for a long time after Taylor had gone to his room and that he did not come down again. (Cincinnati Enquirer)

Meanwhile, Jack’s wife remained at their in-season hotel residence in Cincinnati. On Tuesday, May 30, before a large Decoration Day crowd at the Polo Grounds, Jack Taylor started the first game of a doubleheader. It proved to be a hotly contested outing, with Cincinnati losing as the result of a disputed call. After the game, Taylor asked manager Ewing for permission to go to Staten Island (his home community) for that evening.

Jack Taylor failed to appear at the Polo Grounds for the next two games. Then on Friday, June 2, as the Reds were losing their opener in Boston, Cincinnati fans were greeted by the following headline: “Jack Taylor Is In Very Serious Trouble. He Has Been Indefinitely Suspended By Captain Ewing.”

New York, (Wednesday) June 1 — Jack Taylor has been suspended indefinitely . . . . On Tuesday Taylor received permission . . . to spend that night at the home of his mother, with the understanding that he was to be back Wednesday . . . He failed to show up. When Captain Ewing returned to the hotel Wednesday night he found a message there from Taylor informing him that he would spend another night on Staten Island and promised to turn up today [Thursday] . . . Again he failed to materialize.

The following day, Cincinnati fans heard that Reds owner John Brush was, “waiting to see what action Taylor will take.”

Boston, (Friday) June 3 — Jack Taylor has been here and has gone. He arrived on an early morning train, and before the whistle blew for the noon hour he had started back to Staten Island . . . Taylor saw Captain Ewing about nine o’clock and was informed for the first time that he was indefinitely suspended without pay. He tried to explain to Captain Ewing that he had gone fishing off Coney Island in a small sailboat, a calm came up and he could not return to land earlier than to get there this morning. Ewing expressed the opinion that Taylor could have swam ashore in that time, and then proceeded to lay down the law to the recalcitrant pitcher . . . Taylor tried to square himself by saying that he had not been drunk during his absence, but that did not soften Ewing, and he ordered Taylor back to New York, informing him that he would notify him in due time when he would again draw salary from the club. President Brush said that the punishment of Taylor was entirely in Ewing’s hands, and that the club would stand by anything he did. (Cincinnati Enquirer)

Months later, one newspaper revealed that Jack’s two sailing companions that fateful day were none other than the daredevil, Steve Brodie, who survived a jump from the Brooklyn Bridge in 1886 and a well known and popular turn-of-the-century, bantam weight prize fighter, Patsy Haley.

For five weeks the Cincinnati press followed Jack’s suspension. Although Taylor made several promises to reform and pleaded for reinstatement, management held firm. He was not allowed to travel with the team, but was ordered instead to work out at the Brooklyn team’s Washington Park to get into shape. As the weeks passed, Taylor realized the resolution of the Reds’ management and continued to work out in earnest.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Taylor remained in Cincinnati, the loyal wife lobbying for Jack’s reinstatement:

Ever since Jack’s suspension the loving wife has been trying to have Jack restored to the good graces of the club. She has written a number of letters to President Brush asking that Jack be given another trial. Yesterday, [June 23] Mrs. Taylor received a letter from President Brush to the effect that Jack would be allowed to join the Reds when they start on their Eastern trip…on the 11th of July . . . . Mrs. Taylor was at the game yesterday. She was overjoyed at the news. She will leave for her home at Staten Island tomorrow. (Cincinnati Enquirer)

True to his word, John Brush reinstated Taylor, who pitched his first returning game July 12. Back from suspension, Jack began pitching nearly as good as he ever had in his career. He continued to do so for most of the remainder of the season. About a week after returning, however, Taylor publicly complained that the Cincinnati management had been overly punitive and that he wanted to be traded:

Jack Taylor is bent on getting away from the Cincinnati team. He realizes that the only way he can get his release is by the trading route. He said yesterday [July 23] that he intended to do such good work for the Reds from now on that he would be in demand. “I’ll pitch good ball and do my best,” said Taylor. “I have worked during my vacation and I am lighter now than I have been this season. The report about my [sic] suspension cost me is all wrong.” “In what way?” was asked. “The reports have it that I lost $500 by my suspension.” was the reply. “That isn’t a marker. It isn’t half what that lay off cost me. I am out just $1,200.” “In what way?’”was asked. “Well, I lost $100 a week for the five I laid off,” said Taylor. “Then the Cincinnati Club is holding out $700 to enforce the temperance clause. Captain Ewing tells me I will lose that also. Do you blame me for wanting to get away from Cincinnati? Twelve hundred is pretty expensive for a little fun. (Cincinnati Enquirer)

In late August, Jack was being revered on the Cincinnati sports pages. He recorded a save against the Giants, the team for which he pitched his very first game, nine seasons before:

Jack Taylor is back again in the good graces of the rooters. Jack jumped in and took Phillips’ place on short notice. He pitched in the last three innings in excellent style. His command of the ball was first class. He did not allow a batter to get him in the “hole.” Right over the center of the “pan” was his object, and he did it nicely . . . . Taylor seems to be himself again. When he is right there is no pitcher in the country that has anything on the big pitcher. On Labor Day, Taylor squared off against Cleveland in the second game of a doubleheader played before a huge crowd. Jack Taylor and the Reds won by a score of 8 to 1. The win was the big pitcher’s 120th and final career victory; (against 117 career losses). (Cincinnati Enquirer)

JACK TAYLOR’S DEATH

On Tuesday, September 12, 1899, Jack Taylor took to the rubber for his last game. It was in Washington, against the Nationals. Taylor got off to a rough start; he struggled into the fourth inning and gave up four runs (three earned) on five hits. Then suddenly, “he was pitching, as usual, and had just entered the box and was preparing to throw the ball when his right arm fell powerless to his side and the ball rolled from his fingers. A physician was called and it was learned that he strained his right side. He was taken to his hotel and was compelled to stop playing for the remainder of the season.” The following evening, “Jack Taylor was sent back to Cincinnati . . .”

By season’s end Jack Taylor returned to his home in Staten Island. He died the following February. Several accounts of his death indicated that he was still pursuing a trade, and many speculated that he was going to get one. One Cincinnati writer at the news of Jack’s death reported that he had seen Taylor at the annual meeting of the NL in New York in December [1899] and that Jack “was in excellent health” (undoubtedly, John T. Brush was there too). Another report stated that Taylor had written to Ewing only a few days before his death requesting the Reds to trade him to the New York club.

Some clues to understanding the cause of Taylor’s death may be connected to the death of his 64-year-old mother, Phoebe Ann Taylor, who resided with the ballplayer and his wife. Some evidence indicates that Jack’s mother had been ailing in mid-August. Phoebe Ann Taylor died of pneumonia on January 20, 1900, just seventeen days before her son Jack’s death. On Wednesday, February 7, 1900 Jack Taylor died at age 26 years, 8 months and 16 days. The cause of death was “Brights Disease”, (acute nephritis, kidney failure). One local Staten Island paper reported the following:

John B. Taylor, aged 27 [sic], otherwise known as “good natured” Jack for several years a prominent baseball player in the National League, and a resident of West New Brighton, died on Wednesday morning in the Smith Infirmary from a complication of diseases, after a brief illness. His mother died two weeks ago, and after that Taylor began to complain of feeling unwell, but did not think he was seriously ill. On Wednesday of last week [January 30th] he was taken worse and a physician was called in. His condition became serious and it was decided to remove him to Smith Infirmary, where an operation was performed, and death ensued in a few hours afterward. Taylor began playing ball 13 years ago with the old Corinthian team. Five years later he joined the Lebanon team in the Eastern League, and two years later he signed with the Philadelphias as a pitcher and afterwards played with the St. Louis and Cincinnati teams. Late last September he played his last game with the latter team in Washington, DC. Several weeks afterward he returned to his home to recuperate. He was expecting to sign with the Cincinnatis this year, and the day that he was removed to the hospital he was looking for his new contract. He leaves a widow, but no children. The Funeral was held yesterday afternoon at his late home. The interment was in Fairview cemetery. (Staten Islander, Feburary 10, 1900)

In Cincinnati, Reds fans read in part:

ONE Of THE REDS IS MISSING — The Death of Pitcher Jack Taylor. His End Came Suddenly and Was Unexpected . . . Poor Jack was his own worst enemy. Although nearly 30 years of age his conduct was that of a youngster just starting in his professional career. He never got over “being a boy,” and he was in his best humor when in company with a party of congenial spirits. His good fellowship and love of fun cost him dearly with the Cincinnati Club last season. Although he signed a “limit” contract with the Reds he did not get over half of $2,400 for his services. Poor Jack lived up to the requirement of his strict temperance contract fairly well until the team started on its first Eastern trip. At New York Jack fell from grace. He was a New York boy, and a return to the old atmosphere was too much for him. Jack joined a yachting party . . . missed the train and did not go with the team to Boston.. Although Taylor was on the Cincinnati Club’s reserve list, it is hardly likely he would have played here this season. In all probability he would have been found with the New York club . . . Taylor was one of the best pitchers in America when in condition and in the humor to give his club his best services . . . . For five or six years he was the crack pitcher of the Quaker City team…On account of his habits his work with the Reds last year was a big disappointment. (Cincinnati Times-Star)

On Saturday, October 15, 1892, Charles Leander Jones of Cedarville, Ohio, pitched a no-hitter for the Cincinnati Redlegs against the Pittsburghs. It was Jones’ first major league game and the first National League no-hitter for the Reds. Additionally it was the last game of the last season with a pitching distance of 50 feet. Yet this highly noteworthy event earns less than a line of print in Harry Ellard’s classic history Base Ball in Cincinnati (1907). Is it any wonder that local, oral historians took over to spin a fanciful tale about this fellow know as “Bumpus”?

The legend begins with Jones as the local, teen-aged, hero who pitched for his town team and struck out 27 batters on the rival West Jefferson team. He would later pitch for Cedarville College and also hire out his talents to other town teams for $7 or $8 a game. One version of the tale has him playing a Cincinnati semi- pro team. The tale has the under educated Bumpus, either 3rd or 4th grade, working at the local lime company stoking wood into the kilns. In the summer of 1892, the legends insists, Jones was recruited by a Wilmington, Ohio, team to pitch an exhibition game against the Reds on the 4th of July. In true Hollywood fashion he won! Here the tale takes two diverse paths. In one version, Red manager Charles Comiskey travels by train to Cedarville to take Jones out of the kilns to come to Cincinnati to pitch for the Reds. Another version has the audacious lad walking into the Reds locker room announcing himself ready to pitch in the majors.

No matter how Bumpus got to the Reds, the tale turns to historical reality, when Jones hurls his no-hitter in his first major league game, and becomes the toast of the town. He is immediately signed to a contract and tours with the Reds around the state for the rest of October.

In the Spring of 1893 his career takes an immediate slide. He is beaned in a pre-season game by Tony Mullane. Unable to regain his form, he runs up a 1-3 record in regular season games with an astronomical ERA and is released to the New York Giants. He pitches horribly in his only start and never appears in the major leagues again.

Then the legend continues to assert that in the big city, tortured by headaches from a blood clot, the country lad falls prey to the evil of drink In 1920 he is discovered destitute in the county home in Dayton, Ohio. A benefit exhibition is held for him and a small pension provided and he lives out his years in Cedarville and remains a hero to the local youth.

This fascinating tale appears in various Reds’ histories over the decades and makes an appearance every 10-15 years in the Dayton Daily News, most recently on June 29, 2003. As with every legend, some facets stir curiosity. One “red flag” is the re- ported 4th of July exhibition. The Reds would never schedule an exhibition against a team town on the 4th holiday when they could receive a decent gate with a major league opponent. (In fact on that 4th they split a doubleheader with Boston.) It is also implausible that Bumpus could come from “nowhere” and spin a major league no-hitter.

I determined to seek out the “truth” behind the legend as best I could. Lonnie Wheeler’s book, The Cincinnati Game, has a vignette concerning Bumpus which mentions he was still a hero to local school boys when he died in 1938. I began my search meeting with some of those “school boys” who by the mid 1990s had become the “old timers” but still spoke of Bumpus with great respect. Curtis Hughes had played in a town game in the 1920s and was awarded a bat from Bumpus for his efforts. The bat was treated like the Holy Grail by the remaining contingent of Bumpus admirers.

At a breakfast meeting, these gentlemen recounted the legend, with embellishments, and offered some clues where to start the search for Jones. It seems he was not the only baseball star in Cedarville in the late 1880s. A lad named Cal Morton was his catcher and the locals thought they went to Illinois together. It was hard to imagine Bumpus in college, but the first stop in the journey did begin in Monmouth, Illinois, where Morton was enrolled in college in 1890 and Jones pitched for the local team. Jones started the season with Monmouth in the Illinois-Iowa League, and was the winning pitcher on May 15. Sometime in June, Bumpus joined the Aurora team and is reported to have had a successful season. It was now clear that Bumpus did not appear from “nowhere” in September 1892 to pitch his no-hitter.

In 1891, Jones returned to the area and opened the season with Ottumwa, despite claims from Aurora that he was rightfully their property. Bumpus pitched for Ottumwa for about three weeks, with a 3-2 record. He also pitched in relief and played center field. League President Nic Young was asked to settle the dispute with Aurora and suspended Jones pending a decision which prompted a May 22 ditty in the Ottumwa Daily Democrat:

There is a young pitcher called Bumpus
Who has raised a considerable rumpus.
But Ottumwa, you know, don’t wish him go
As without him the other clubs thump us.

A few days later Young’s decision awarded Bumpus to Aurora, a team with a losing record of 3-18 when Bumpus arrived. They were poor batsmen and even worse in the field. Jones debuted on May 28 in a loss to Joliet, but won his next three games to raise the hopes of Aurora fans. Problems arose when the manager left and the team resumed their slide. The final straw come on June 17 when Jones allowed league-leading Quincy only six hits, yet lost 9-8 when his team committed 11 errors that led to nine unearned runs. The team directors disbanded the team the next day. Jones had a 3-3 record with Aurora.

Bumpus and Aurora catcher Brandenberg were signed within hours by league-leading Quincy. In his first appearance Jones struck out 14 Joliet batters but controversy continued to haunt him. Reports say he had promised Ottumwa he would return if Aurora folded. Once again, Jones’ fate was in the hands of President Young. Bumpus pitched six games for the Quincy Ravens with a 5-1 record before Young sent letters to all franchises awarding Jones to Ottumwa. Quincy hoped to ignore the decision but the Joliet team prevented Jones from pitching against them by producing a copy of Young’s letter. Jones went to Ottumwa in early August and earned a 4-3 record before his sale to Portland, Oregon of the Pacific North West League for $200. His travel across the U.S. must have been a grand adventure for the 21 year old from Cedarville.

Bumpus was immediately thrust into a pennant race as Portland chased Spokane for the league title. Jones pitched very well but had only a 5-6 record. Portland settled for second place. Lost amidst all the team-shuffling is the fact that Jones won 20 games in 1891.

In 1892 Bumpus was back in the Illinois-Iowa League with Joliet who had put together a dominating ball club. Jones was in top form and by the end of June was 15-0 with six shutouts. His fast ball was blazing (“as hard to find as a match in a dark room”) and his curve ball left batters shaking their heads. Joliet lead was so large, the league redrew the schedule, declared Joliet the first half champs, allowing all teams to start even for the last half of the season. Joliet lost their touch, played .500 ball, but Bumpus was still overpowering. When Joliet folded in early August Jones has a 24-3 record. The Joliet directors anticipated the demise of the League and sold two players to the Chicago Nationals for $1,000 and after the season’s premature end six players went to the Southern League, Bumpus among them.

As was his custom, Jones was again in an “ownership dispute.” While making arrangements to play with Atlanta, he accepted a salary advance from Montgomery. He went to Atlanta and Montgomery filed a complaint with the league office which pushed it up to the National League President who ruled in Atlanta’s favor, possibly because Jones returned the advance to Montgomery.

Jones made his debut with Atlanta in a September 1 game versus Macon. The Constitution reported, “every lover of baseball . . . is enthusiastic over the little pitcher. He is very speedy, with a good head and a hard worker.” A ninth inning Macon home run spoiled his debut. His next outing, also at Macon, came a day after a near riot at the ball park when umpire Crowell made several calls against Atlanta, and refused to umpire the next day. Macon brought in a local umpire. Bumpus was breezing along with a 3-0 lead when suddenly everything changed in the sixth inning. The Constitution reported, “Then the fun begins, Every ball Jones pitched was called a ball. Instead of retiring Macon with no runs nine were scored and Atlanta robbed of an honestly earned victory.” Late in September, Jones returned to Cedarville.

He was probably working again in the kilns when the Wilmington Clintons recruited him to pitch an October 12 exhibition with the Redlegs. Clintons pitcher David Reese started the game and gave up nine runs before Bumpus took the mound. He held the Reds hitless the last three innings and the Wilmington Democrat stated that Jones was invited by Comiskey to come to play in Cincinnati. The October 13 Cincinnati Commercial Gazette made the same claim.

Three days later Bumpus pitched his historic no-hitter against the Pittsburghs, noted in the Bumpus legend as “the best hitting team in the league.” Once again the legend overreached. Pittsburg finished ninth in 1892 with a .236 team batting average. No matter, a no-hitter will always be the highest measure of pitching excellence. Jones walked two batters in the first inning before settling down. According to the Commercial Gazette, “after the first Bumpus was all wool and a yard wide.” The only blemish was in the third inning when Bumpus walked Patsy Donovan, then made a throwing error that allowed him to score. The Commercial Gazette mentions there were only two tough plays, both line drives that center fielder Bug Holliday hauled in. Comiskey and George Smith were the batting stars in a 7-1 Reds victory.

The Reds immediately made plans for Jones on the squad in 1893. They embarked on a two week exhibition tour and Comiskey, a wise showman, put Bumpus in charge of the game in Springfield, Ohio, ten miles from Jones’ home town. Bumpus tossed a seven- hitter and won 12-0. Estimates of the crowd ranged from one to two thousand.

The 1893 season introduced the plate at 60 feet, six inches. The Redlegs opted to train in Cincinnati with exhibitions in the mid-west. On April 9 Bumpus faced St. Louis and won 12-3. The Commercial Gazette reported he pitched a “splendid game” with good speed on his “inshoots” that foiled the visitors. In his first regular season action, Jones could not loosen up and was quickly yanked. Three days later he threw a complete game against Chicago but lost 7-1. It was decided he should go home and get “the kinks out of his arm.”

When he returned he pitched poorly throughout May and June, with many days of inaction. With the Reds ahead of Louisville 14-0 on June 18, Bumpus was called in to mop up so starter Chamberlin could be rested. Despite his lackluster performance, six walks and many hits, the Reds won a lopsided 30-12 win. It was Jones’ second major league victory and his last game for Cincinnati.

In mid-July, the Giants added Bumpus to their roster. He started against Cleveland and Cy Young on July 14 with mediocre results. Jones walked ten, hit a batter, made and error on way to a 6-2 loss. He remained with the Giants through July but never saw action again. His major league career was over with two wins and four losses. And a no-hit game.

But Bumpus’ career as a baseball professional was not over. He left the New York Giants to join the Providence Grays of the Eastern League who needed pitching in their struggle to get out of the league cellar. Bumpus did not report when expected after signing his contract which may have been caused by a drinking binge following his departure from the big leagues. On August 11, he was reported to show “terrific speed” but also poor control with nine walks leading to an 8-4 loss. Three more appearances left him with a 1-2 Eastern League record and on Sept 2 the Providence paper reported Jones had jumped to Reading. But the Reading papers show no evidence of Jones taking the field.

Jones had become a baseball vagabond. He played for at least seventeen teams, several of them more than once with other teams in between. One reason may have been his reputation as a “hot weather” pitcher, a notoriously slow starter. Another may be his reputation as a player with a drinking problem. What was not under his control was the frequent demise of some teams.

From 1894 through 1899 Bumpus played in Ban Johnson’s very competitive Western League, with periods of considerable success in a league known as a hitter’s circuit. In 1894 he was with Sioux City as the number three pitcher behind Bill Hart and Bert Cunningham, both with major league experience. By mid- June Sioux City was 31-9 and Bumpus was 8-4. When traded near the end of the season to Grand Rapids, he was 13-14. In seven games with Grand Rapids he had a 3-3 record including a revenge win over Sioux City when he hit a three-run homer in a 23-2 rout.

Bumpus’ longest stay with one club was 1896-1899 with Columbus. In his first year he was again mediocre and earned a dedicated acerbic critic, Salvator of the Columbus Dispatch. His remarks included, “Bumpus had nothing but a slow ball and a wild pitch” and “two out-of town writers say Bumpus was at his best today (in a 12-8 win), if this be his best pray tell what is his worst.”

Finally the tide turned and Jones had the two best years of his professional career. In 1897 he went 17-6 with an ERA of 1.45 and became an undisputed ace in 1898 winning 27 games and losing 13. After the 1897 season, the Detroit Free Press sponsored a Cup Series between Indianapolis and Columbus, won by Indianapolis three games to two. It was reported the Columbus players received $75 each for the series. To Bumpus it meant rent for six months. Opening Day of 1898 Bumpus beat Connie Mack’s Milwaukee team with a four hitter, and in August twirled a one hitter against St. Joseph.

Ban Johnson was determined to move his Western League to major league status and changed the league name to American League in 1900. It would not happen until 1902 but the Western, now American League, was by far the strongest minor league. Bumpus moved from Columbus to Grand Rapids, and to Cleveland in 1900. He was the first player to report to the Lakeshores, trained in Cleveland in horrible weather and was named the starting pitcher for the first game. Bumpus became the winner in Cleveland’s first game in the newly named American League.

By May, however, he was released to Ft. Wayne of the Interstate League. He pitched well but in early August was released. The Sentinel reported that he and others were let go because their behavior had not been “suitable,” hinting the players were enjoying the nightlife too often. In 1901 his career ended after two starts with St. Paul and a stay in the hospital. There were reports of benefits to raise money for his hospital expenses in varied papers, but his hometown paper, the Cedarville Herald, was surprisingly silent about his plight.

Knowledge about Jones’ final 19 years is sketchy. Writer Fred Marshall of the Dayton Journal Herald wrote the story about Jones being destitute in the county home in 1920. For the remainder of his life he lived mainly in Cedarville. His death on June 25, 1938 was the result of complications from a stroke he suffered in the mid-1930s.

A poorly-educated kiln worker parlayed his baseball talents into an 11 year career, with three 20-win seasons. He played with the likes of Pete Browning, Connie Mack, John McGraw, Rube Wadell and Cy Young. And he pitched a no-hitter in his first major league game.