Old Hoss Radbourn: The Greatest of the 19th-Century Tobacco Hurlers

This article was written by Jim Foglio

This article was published in The National Pastime (Volume 25, 2005)


Rarely can an athlete lay claim to having been both the most colorful and productive in a respective time period. Ali and Ruth were two colossal examples, but for the underrepresented enigma of nineteenth-century baseball, Charlie “Old Hoss” Radbourn provides a fascinating fusion of personality and achievement. In the days when mounds were only fifty feet away, the tang of whiskey on Radbourn’s breath presented as much an inconvenience for rival batters as his rising underhand fastball.

Radbourn is widely recognized as the greatest of all 19th-century pitchers, as reads his plaque in Cooperstown, where he was inducted in 1939. His 1884 season alone was astonishing. That year Radbourn led Harry Wright’s Providence Grays to the National League pennant and ultimately the first ‘World Series” championship over the American Association’s New York Metropolitans in a three­ game sweep, where he tossed three complete games, including a shutout. Radbourn led the league that season with 60 wins, a 1.38 ERA, 441 strikeouts, and 678 innings pitched.1 At one point he pitched 30 of 32 games and 27 straight, winning 26.2 His career totals include 308 wins, 1,767 strikeouts, and an incredible 473 complete games. In five years during his prime with Providence, Radbourn tallied 26 shutouts, 158 complete games, and more than a three-and-a-half to one strikeout/walk ratio.3 Other career highlights include a no-hitter on July 25, 1883, against Cleveland and 51 complete games in 1882.

Additionally, in 1881, his first full season with Providence, Radbourn shared mound duties with legendary John Montgomery Ward, replacing Ward as the club’s ace the following year. While it is impractical to juxtapose Radbourn’s statistics with contemporary numbers, he truly stands as the original iron man. Before Lou Gehrig, Cal Ripken Jr., and Brett Favre, “Old Hoss” set the standard for durability and consistency.

Part of Radbourn’s success was due to his innovative delivery. In fact, the rules were changed after the 1884 season and pitchers were not allowed to jump toward the plate as they delivered the ball. While it cannot be verified officially. the timing of the rule change suggests that baseball brass had Radbourn’s 1884 dominance in mind, much the same way NBA officials widened the key because of Wilt Chamberlain’s ascendancy. After 1884, whether it was the stress on his arm or the rule changes, his stats declined. Providence folded in 1885, replaced by the Washington Senators, and in four seasons with Boston, he went 27-12. and including his swan song year with Cincinnati. Old Hoss finished 181 of his final 185 starts.

Radbourn was a pioneer of the curveball. Accord­ing to former manager Ted Sullivan be had a “drop ball he did not have to spit on, a perplexing slow ball that was never duplicated … [and was] the master of curves and deliveries.” Radbourn’s curve has been compared to a French restaurant where the customer would order the same dish every day with a new name. but it was equally appealing.4 One contemporary boasted there was “not a curve that he was not the master of, and to invent new deliveries was the constant occupation of his mind.” Journalist Sam Crane noted the variety of curves as the primary reason for Radbourn’s inclusion as number 16 on his 1912 list of the top 50 players in baseball history.

But it was not only Radbourn’s book and intimidating delivery that quieted opponent’s bats: he could toss the heat with the best of them. According to one former teammate, “Rad had plenty of speed but never let it loose ’til it was absolutely necessary … that is why his arm lasted for so many years.” At one point in a game against Cap Anson’s Chicago club, Radbourn struck out Hall of Famer King Kelly, Ned Williamson, and George Gore in succession with the bases loaded. One former manager noted that Radbourn could deliver the ball with the “speed or a catapult.”

Radbourn is often listed in box scores as a right fielder, and according to reports he certainly was a well-rounded player. But like most existing major league pitchers, his batting statistics declined when he started to pitch regularly. Sullivan wrote that Radbourn was a “natural ballplayer …  and batter at all times.” He also praised him in the clutch. “The closer the game,” Sullivan noted, “the better he could hit.” Radbourn was certainly a serviceable position player. with a .238 lifetime average, 585 hits, and 259 RBI. His best season at the plate was in 1883, the year prior to taking over the full-time pitching duties from Ward. Radbourn batted .283 with an OBP of.308, and racked up 17 extra-base hits along with 48 RBI. After 1883, his average season was only .220, while prior to concentrating primarily on pitching the number was nearly 30 points higher. In the Deadball Era, this was certainly sound production for a pitcher.

But the right field slot has modern significance. When Radbourn did not start on the mound, he was inserted into right field, like many of his contemporary hurlers. In 19th-century ball, non-injury substitutions were prohibited. The potential relief, or “exchange” pitcher, was almost always placed in right, hence the bad knock that right fielders have received all the way down to the little league game. Ironically, however, in today’s game, left field is often the position where managers ”hide” a player in order to get his bat into the lineup, and right field remains the spot for a power-hitting supers1ar. Still, allocating pitchers almost exclusively to right field surely had its origins in their arm strength, given the distance of the throws when compared to center and left. It is no coincidence that today’s right fielders have the top arms; this is merely an extension of the 19th-century game.

One of Radbourn’s accomplishments involved helping to bankrupt an entire league. According to accounts, in 1879 Sullivan tricked rival manager James McKee, who led a popular Rockford, Illinois, team, into thinking that Radbourn was no more than an average player. Sullivan managed a Dubuque, Iowa, club in a four-team league that included squads from Omaha, Nebraska, and Davenport, Iowa. The crafty manager had seen Radbourn play on a Peoria. Illinois nine from an independent league the previous spring, and assured the other managers at the league meeting that Charles Comiskey had “hit him over the canvas” and another had blasted him “over a haystack.” After the gathering, Sullivan admits the ”train could not come fast enough” to Radbourn’s home in Bloomington, Illinois, and he hired the pitcher on his front doorstep for a monthly salary of 75 dollars.5 That season the Dubuque club blasted Rockford for six straight games, setting the tone with their fresh stud pitcher. According to Sullivan. “Radbourn won so many games that the league lost heart and busted in August.”

But it was more than Radbourn’s stellar play that fueled changes in the baseball landscape; it was actually his sharp tongue that might have indirectly landed him in Cooperstown. When teammate and fellow pitcher Charles Sweeney was banished from the team at a pivotal point in the 1884 season, Radbourn’s antics were to blame. Sweeney had been tearing through opponents that year and had set the single-season strikeout record at 19. But the record lasted only a month before Hugh Daily, a one-armed hurler from Chicago, equaled the mark. One night a slurring Radbourn poked fun at the unpredictable Sweeney, who was, nine years his junior, referring to the fact that a man with one arm had tied his record. The two nearly came to blows; in fact, Radbourn is said to have hurled a can of tobacco juice at Sweeney. Providence management initially sided with Sweeney, but after two consecutive errors in a game and consistently serving up lobs to opponents, manager Frank Bancroft yanked him and suspended the young gun without pay.6 Sweeney signed with St. Louis of Henry Lucas’ Union League in only mild controversy against the reserve clause, and despite Providence considering disbandment, they agreed to ride “Old Hoss” to the finish.

Providence went on to win it all, but more intriguingly still, management had assured Radbourn his release after the season if he “piled up a lot of wins.” This curious move seems to have been the product of practical thinking on both sides. Radbourn had been offered more money from other clubs prior to the season, so after a productive stretch run, he knew he could command a raise. Management seems to have also foreshadowed the long-term strain on an overworked arm and wanted to get what they could out of Radbourn and send him on his way. If they were lucky, they would get a pennant, which they did; either way Old Hoss would get paid. But in a legendary moment of victory euphoria, management presented him with two sheets of paper, his release and a blank contract. Radbourn stared at the ground, spit some tobacco in deliberation, then tore up the release, and gave himself a $2000 raise to remain in Rhode Island.7 Without a dose of whiskey-infused sarcasm toward Sweeney, however, Radbourn would have never signed this contract, nor enjoyed his mythological 1884 campaign, which catapulted him into the Hall of Fame. In the end, while Old Hoss landed in Cooperstown, Sweeney, who eventually pitched St. Louis to a pennant, ended up in a California prison for murder.

*****

Radbourn was born on December 11, 1854, in Rochester, New York. His only education was in a grammar school just outside Bloomington, Illinois, where he moved with his parents as an infant. Like most early ballplayers, Radbourn sought refuge from working-class labor; his father, Charles, an English immigrant, was a butcher who required his son to work in the slaughterhouse. There is little mention of this relationship anywhere in the record, so it would be poor scholarship to speculate on how this might have impacted his baseball career. But by the time he was 24, Radbourn was barnstorming and had little contact with his family. He married Carrie Clark Stanhope in Chicago in 1887, adopting her son.8 In 1891 Radbourn retired from baseball and spent most of his time at a pool hall and saloon that he opened in Bloomington four years prior. Radbourn’s Place was advertised as having the “best of everything in wet goods and cigars.” In 1894 he lost his right eye after an unlucky hunting accident on Friday the 13th. In his reduced state, Radbourn’s proclivity for liquor and loose women increased, and ironically his cherished right arm became paralyzed from syphilis. He died from complications less than three years later. and was buried in Evergreen Memorial Cemetery in Bloomington.

Much of Radbourn’s life outside baseball is pierced with enigma. An 1891 New York Times article identifies him with the Illinois regiment of the Civil War, and given his location during that time, this seems plausible. But Old Hoss is omitted from a plaque in Cooperstown that commemorates Hall of Famers who served in the U.S. Armed Forces. This could represent a glaring slight if the Times is accurate. There is also the question of whether or not his last name ends in an “e.” One Bloomington city directory listed the correct spelling of his name to be Radbourn. His father also once spelled his name without an “e” on a hunting license. To add to the mystery, Old Hoss’s last will and testament disappeared in 1988, initialing a police investigation. In the pre-eBay world, this signed document was still estimated to have been worth in excess of $8,000.

Chemical dependency seems to have contributed to an unpredictability and obstinacy that was at times severe; Radbourn would drink a quart of whiskey each day and constantly chew tobacco. After allegedly defeating his two brothers in a hunting contest, ties with them were severed for several years. Radbourn explained this conflict without emotion to friends as a “family weakness.” One instance, after purchasing a pair of Canadian hunting dogs for $500, he immediately shot them when they failed to obey his initial commands. It was later found that the dogs were trained to respond only to French. In one comical flash in 1876, a few of his independent league teammates were suspected of fixing a game. Radbourn was exonerated of any guilt-well, at least culpability as related to gambling-and was charged with “being drunk.” One might speculate whether or not Radbourn used his high as a cover in this instance, but there were never any other allegations against him, and all accounts praise his character and integrity. Still, when the bottle is involved, values are often compromised, so the possibility of his involvement needs to be at least considered.

At a stocky 5’9″ and 165 lbs., Old Hoss represented endurance, resourcefulness, and loyalty. While some of his record outside baseball remains clouded with amber, his contribution to the game is less ambiguous. The original workhorse of pitchers, Radbourn set the standard for baseball’s working-class commitment. His 1884 season is one of the most impressive feats in the history of sport, with a record 60 wins that will stand forever. He was an uncommon recipe of mental and physical prowess with a kicker, the propensity for revelry. Radbourn’s plaque in Cooperstown appropriately flanks that of the morally principled Gehrig, with a hint of irony that must bring a smile beneath that tobacco-stained curved mustache.

JIM FOGLIO is a freelance writer based in Wray, Colorado. He has a M.A. in Sport History and has most recently published articles in Beckett’s Monthly, Nevada Magazine, and American History. He is currently working on a travel memoir. 

 

Sources

Bancroft, Frank C. “Old Hoss Radbourne,” Baseball Magazine 1, July 1908, pp. 12-14.

Charles Radbourn file, Bart Giamatti Research Library, Cooperstown, New York.

Daily Bulletin (Bloomington, Illinois), July 20, 1892, p.1.

Daily Pantagraph (Bloomington, Illinois), February 6, 1897.

Letter from Red Ringeiser to Lee Allen, February 3, 1963.

Letter from Red Ringeiser to Lee Allen, April 23, 1967.

Sullivan, Ted. “Ted’s Tribute: Radbourne was master of Curves and Speed,” The Sporting News, February 27, 1997.

Sullivan, Ted. “Crooked and Spun: Mr. Sullivan Narrates Tale of Radbourn’s Skill,” The Sporting News, January 10, 1887.

 

Notes

  1. Radbourn’s 1884 strikeout and innings pitched totals were fourth and second highest of all-time, respectively.
  2. During the 1884 stretch, Radbourn struggled to even roll out of bed. Reports indicate he could barely raise his arm to brush his mustache or hair. Each day he would arrive at the ballpark hours early, rub down his arm, and start tossing the ball underhand from only a few feet away, gradually extending the distance. When teammates realized that he could reach his partner, who was standing at home plate, all the way from center field, they breathed a sigh of relief and were confident they had a chance to win that day.
  3. It is important to note that walks equaled six balls in Radbourn’s playing days, but batters could also call for a pitch in their desired hitting zone.
  4. Chances are, this French metaphor also had something to do with French food being “heavy,” a word also often used to describe drop balls in baseball.
  5. Radbourn negotiated this number up from an initial offer. This was the first of two instances in his career when Radbourn bargained himself a better salary, something not always common in an era where owners enjoyed much of the clout. Remember, the White Sox were referred to as the “Black Sox” because their owner, Comiskey, refused to clean their uniforms, one of the reasons for the 1919 scandal.
  6. Because of the substitution rule, Providence was forced to cover the outfield with only two men. They lost to Philadelphia on eight unearned runs in the ninth inning.
  7. There are conflicting sources on the amount of the raise. One letter cites it as $2,000, while another maintains that it was $1,000.
  8. Records indicate that Radbourn’s stepson, Charles, “inherited” a fondness for whiskey from his stepfather.