The first conclave after the 1894 season convened in Parlor F of the Fifth Avenue Hotel in New York City.1There were no hot-button issues facing the magnates, but there were still critical details that required the group’s collective attention.The largest single administrative action came in reappointing the Board of Directors, to include John T. Brush, Chris Von der Ahe, Arthur Soden, Charles Byrne, Harry Von der Horst, and Jim Hart.This ensured that Eastern and Western clubs were equally represented on the board.2

The Assessment

One of the items near and dear to the collective heart of the magnates was money, and the 10-percentassessment that had been in effect in order to pay off a standing League debt of $133,000.3“The real hitch in the convention…occurred when the settlement of the gate receipt question came up.Now that the League’s indebtedness of $133,000 has all been paid up, the wealthier clubs objected to sending 10 percent of their receipts to the treasurer.It was all right as long as the League was in debt, and nobody objected.”4

The managing director of the New York team (a rough equivalent to a modern-day team president), E.R. Talcott, convinced the other owners that for most clubs, rescinding the levy was in their best interest.In New York’s case alone, the team stood to save between $7,000 and $15,000 in 1895.“Last season that 10 per cent footed up $68,000, and each club drew from that amount $2,900.The contribution of each city to the fund was as follows: New York — $12,000; Baltimore — $8,900; Philadelphia — $8,500; Boston — $6,500; Pittsburg — $6,000; Brooklyn — $5,500; Chicago — $5,100; Cincinnati — $3,800; St. Louis — $3,400; Cleveland — $3,000; Washington — $2,900; and Louisville — $1,500.5From this came a change to section 49 of the National Agreement, stating ‘Out of the funds of the league now in the hands of the treasurer he shallcreate a fund of $12,000, which shall be invested in government bonds, and all other funds shall be placed in the treasury to meet current expenses.’”6

The Philadelphia Exemption

Next, a commission of Byrne, Brush, Harry Von der Horst (of the Orioles), and Hart drew up a resolution regarding Philadelphia’s contribution to the League revenues: “Resolved. That the special agreement with the Philadelphia baseball club relating to the division of gate receipts, and grand stand admissions, dated February 1891, be suspended for four years from this date, and that the same division of receipts be made as in 1893 for four years.Under the agreement of February, 1894, Philadelphia was allowed to deduct twenty-five cents from every grand stand admission.This was done at the request of Mr. Rogers after the grand stand of the Philadelphia club was burned down.The fund went towards paying for the new grand stand.”7

The politics of the deal were not universally popular, but the owners were not in favor of establishing any precedent that might haunt them in similar circumstances in future years.The New York Evening World reported that Philadelphia owner John Rogers “emerged, smiling, from Parlor F at recess.He denied the reports of his linguistic and loquacious efforts, but said he had accomplished a big thing for Philadelphia.It seems he had succeeded in convincing the League that there was a distinct relation between the fire which destroyed the Quakers’ grand stage last summer and the new rate of division.”8

Rules proposal and umpire enforcement

While there were not any major changes to the playing rules themselves at this meeting, there was acknowledgment among all concerned that umpires were not uniformly enforcing the existing rules as written. Ned Hanlon and Jim Hart were named to a special rules committee to screen proposed changes for the following year, and the group at large adopted a separate resolution addressing the umpire problem. Rule 64 was changed to read: “That the committee on rules is instructed to report to the spring meeting such amendments as may be necessary to compel the umpire to enforce the playing rules, particularly those prohibiting noisy coaching and rowdy or disorderly conduct on the ball field.”9 The reports by some were almost vindictive. “Patsy Tebeau, Tommy Tucker, and John McGraw, among others, will be accountable for their on-field actions. With this object in view, the League intends to ‘shake up’ the umpire staff from top to bottom, and the men who have winked at obscenity upon the field and refused to enforce the rules will be allowed to drop into oblivion, as far as baseball is concerned.”10

One of the more aggravating offshoots of poor game control by the presiding umpire was that some managers had simply been pulling their team off the field in protest, and not completing their respective game. The proposed solution to that was a resolution saying that“… the captain or manager, or the person in charge of the offending team and responsible for the team leaving the field shall incur a penalty of $100, which shall be paid in five days to the secretary of the League, such penalty not to be remitted under any circumstances.” That rule was in addition to the $1,000 penalty on a club for leaving the field.11

Pre-empting start-up leagues, and the charging of Barnie, Buckenberger, and Pfeffer

Additionally, the “embryotic American Association” was a topic for the magnates. Nick Young told reporters that there was “little profitability of the organization of Association clubs in cities where there already are League clubs.” Young also noted that the owners were aware of certain players who might plan to join a new AA, and that those players would be disciplined.”12

The owners appointed a subcommittee of Charles Byrne, John T. Brush, Jim Hart, Harry Von der Horst, and Young to prepare a report for the League. Their product ostensibly traced the issue of challenges to the League structure dating back to 1876.“The report shows that it has been the object of those interested in baseball to perpetuate the sport as the National game of the United States and to surround it with such safeguards as to warrant in the future absolute public confidence in its integrity and methods to protect and promote the mutual interests of professional baseball clubs and professional baseball players.”13

The language is striking in the implication. Interpreted cynically, terms like “safeguards,” “integrity” and “mutual interests” could be defined as entirely consistent with the collective self-interest of the owners. The report implies that the ownership group is best situated and able to decide what constitutes integrity and mutual interest. This sets the foundation for what followed.

“The report shows,” it continued, “that today the future of baseball is confronted by a new condition — a condition more harmful and dangerous than open dishonesty and dissipation.It refers to treachery within the lines.The report shows that the interests of clubs and players are identical; that one cannot succeed without the other, and that success means mutual benefit.”14 This reference to “treachery within the lines” has nothing to do with the quality, caliber, or integrity of the conduct of the game, but instead of individual players putting self-interest above that of the game (or, to be clearer, the interest of the owners’ profit).

The report concluded: “It is a matter of public rumor and is also a fact which has come to our knowledge that men identified with clubs, members of the National Agreement, have been cooperating in the formation of clubs or organizations whose purpose is to conflict with the National Agreement. In view of this…the National League and American Association of Professional Clubs, in convention assembled, respectfully suggests to and requests the National Board to declare A.C. Buckenberger, William Barnie, and Frederick Pfeffer ineligible to be employed either as manager or player or in any capacity whatever, by any club or organization operating under the National Agreement, and they be forthwith suspended. Such suspension to remain in force until such time as they or either of them can satisfy the National Board that they in no way have been engaged directly or indirectly in the organization of any club, league, or association formed or to be formed in conflict with the principles of the National Agreement.And in the event of their failure to relieve themselves from this suspension within such time as your board may direct, they shall be expelled and forever debarred from any connection …with…Professional Baseball Clubs.”15

To paraphrase, Barnie, Buckenberger, and Pfeffer were being scapegoated for supporting a start-up league two years before. This report and conclusion were largely the work of John T. Brush, an owner more committed to cauterizing threats before they could ever blossom, and would provide grist for discussion at the next meeting. As a sidenote, both Barnie and Buckenberger met with League representatives in late December 1894, and both were reinstated. Fred Pfeffer chose not to show up, however, and his case made for some animated exchanges during the February 1895 meeting.

The Second Meeting — February 1895

The year 1895 had dawned on an America that was entering its third year of a severe economic recession. That age, a time before color photography, is today only represented in sepia and black-and-white tones, and those shades — perhaps unintentionally, but accurately — convey a sense of the pall that hung over the collective nation just before the turn of the century. Grover Cleveland was in his second term as president, and while the country had not yet elected to engage in the Cuban war for independence from Spain, it was just three years from one of its first forays into genuinely international conflict.

It was a time of yellow journalism, of unregulated businesses, of semi-institutionalized criminals actually running cities like New York, and a time at the cusp of baseball’s transition from a professionalized club sport to a self-sustaining entertainment activity. As such, money had become more important to the game every year, and baseball had clearly drawn to its ownership ranks men who valued lucre infinitely more than the game between the lines.

The second formal conclave of the owners (or magnates, as the press often described them) after the 1894 season convened on February 28, 1895, again at the Fifth Avenue Hotel in New York City, a site sufficiently gaudy for the collection of barons. The particular team owners, or their representatives, had arrived over the preceding weekend and included Baltimore owner Harry Von der Horst and team manager Ned Hanlon; Boston’s Arthur Soden and William Conant; Dr. Thomas Hunt Stucky representing Louisville; Chris Von der Ahe of the St. Louis Browns; Washington’s J. Earl and George Wagner; John T. Brush of the Cincinnati Reds; the polarizing newcomer of the Giants, Andrew Freedman; Charles Byrne and silent financier Ferdinand Abell of Brooklyn; Pittsburg co-owner William Kerr; Jim Hart of Chicago; and a proxy for the Robison brothers of Cleveland.16

The men gathered with a collective purpose of strengthening their collective grip on their money-making machine, and there was absolutely no premium placed on ethical conduct. Several of the owners, for example, held stock in different teams. Tammany Hall power broker Andrew Freedman had taken over majority ownership of the New York franchise a month earlier, but several of the majority owners of other, presumably competing, teams also owned minority positions in the Giants. The level of cronyism is almost unimaginable in the twenty-first century, but it was purely business for the owners in the 1890s.

One of the subtexts to this meeting was the implicit threat to the de-facto monopoly that the owners had created. There was an unspoken, but very real, possibility that the American Association might re-emerge and offer baseball to paying customers outside the National League’s purview. Additionally, collective paranoia dictated that the minor-league Eastern and Western Leagues might seek to break away from the existing organizational construct and compete for customers, an odious idea that demanded suppression at every opportunity.

Individual business

Under those conditions, and with those participants, the February meeting convened with a preliminary conclave of the smaller National Board. After the treasurer’s report, Nick Young was re-elected secretary/treasurer as the first official act of business. Then several disputes were adjudicated, including the awarding of John Walters to Indianapolis, M.J. Trost to Nashville, and Joe Strauss to Minneapolis.

John Walters, who had signed contracts with both Indianapolis and Rochester, the former partly controlled by Cincinnati Reds owner John T. Brush, was awarded to Indianapolis and was directed to repay $50 in damages to Rochester within 10 days or face suspension. Nashville and Rochester both claimed Trost, and after being awarded to Nashville he was also ordered to pay damages to Rochester. Catcher Joe Strauss was claimed by both Minneapolis and Lincoln, and was given to Minneapolis with no fine attached.

Competing claims of various League members on the contracts necessitated each of those decisions. The National Board simply assigned the players based on the logic of the various arguments. The League Directors, a working group spun off from the Board, met immediately after to consider an administrative matter regarding Pittsburgh’s Ad Gumbert. Pittsburgh had traded the player to Brooklyn for catcher Tom Kinslow a few weeks earlier, but Brush’s Cincinnati team had claimed Gumbert based on what the Reds owner claimed were “prior negotiations.” The Board decided against Cincinnati, reasoning that manager Connie Mack — who had actually spoken to Gumbert — had no authority to negotiate or act. They also ruled that Pittsburg had withdrawn its trade offer with the Reds before the latter accepted the deal.

Rule changes

The formal meeting convened at 11:20 A.M. on February 28, when “President Young requested that Mr. Soden be called to the chair, and the request was granted.”17 The business session began immediately with a brief review and final adjudication of proposed rule changes. Those encompassed the following actions:

1. Rejected the proposal to “annul specifications for length and thickness” of bats, but did approve a change in the maximum bat diameter, from 2½” to 2¾”. This was likely a concession to the physically larger, and more popular sluggers like Cap Anson and Dan Brouthers, among others.
2. Rejected the proposal that would have prohibited padding in any glove except for first baseman and catcher mitts, but compromised in that the League “allows any kind of old mitt to be used in those favored positions and requires any other fielder … to wear a finger glove, not over 14” in circumference around the hand and not weighing more than 10 ounces.”18
3. Adjusted what has come to be known as the “infield fly” rule. The wording is telling: “When base-runners are on first and second base, with not more than one out, and a fly ball shall be batted, the umpire must at once call out and announce whether it is an infield fly or outfield fly for the purpose of removing all doubt therein from the minds of the baserunners.”
4. Some members objected to a proposed rule that required umpires to eject any player who used indecent, obscene, or abusive language on the field, and then to require a three-day suspension for each act. The approved compromise was that each incident of such language would result in a fine of between $25 and $100, and that the monies would be forwarded to League Secretary Young within five days or the player would be suspended until the fine was paid.
5. The most interesting change was a rule adopted to require umpires to “enforce the playing rules as written,”19 imposing a $25 fine on the respective umpire for the first such failure in a game, and doubling that to $50 for a second failure

The last rule is telling, as umpires working alone too often felt compelled to enforce rules as they understood them, or in order not to incite the home crowd to violence toward them.

Several rule changes were accepted without discussion:

• The size of the pitching plate was increased from 12 by 4 inches to 24 by 6 inches, an expansion from 48 square inches to 144 square inches.
• Rule 14 was changed to read, “The new ball delivered to the pitcher may be discolored by him, but by no other player.” Only “earth” could be used as a discolorant, and not tobacco juice or other substance.
• The act of bunting was defined.
• Umpires will “call a strike on all foul tips caught by the catcher within the 10-foot line.”

Several of those changes remain in effect today, specifically the dimensions of the pitcher’s slab and the definition of the infield fly.

Pfeffer revisited

The daytime session adjourned at 7 P.M. for dinner, and reconvened in a small sidebar executive session at 8:30 for a four-hour-long deliberation aimed at finally closing the matter of Fred Pfeffer. The committee of Brush, Hart, and Freedman needed to hash out the details of the case before making a recommendation to the larger group the following day.

Pfeffer had been a gifted infielder on Cap Anson’s Chicago teams in the 1880s, and enjoyed his best season in 1884 when he finished second in the League in home runs and runs batted in. He and A.C. Buckenberger had committed the heresy of trying to restart the American Association, a direct conflict with (and threat to) the existing National Agreement.20 The allegation was that Pfeffer and others would receive considerable compensation for jumping to the new iteration of the Association. When that came to light, he was suspended indefinitely. Although 35 years old, Pfeffer had still applied to the owners for reinstatement. The battle lines were clear: Brush’s contingent was adamantly opposed to giving any quarter to seditionists like Pfeffer, for fear of appearing weak and thus encouraging future forays toward independence; whereas Hart wanted Pfeffer’s suspension vacated immediately. The old Tammany Hall dealmaker, Freedman, was thus put in the middle of the discussion, and he proposed a compromise providing that Pfeffer be reinstated but forced to play only for Louisville, and for only a $200 annual salary, and also pay a fine to the League of $800.

The terms were presented to the entire body of owners the next morning, and provoked some heated words. John Rogers argued that the blacklisting had been a mistake, but a human one, and noted that Buckenberger had already been reinstated. Chris Von der Ahe was similarly disgusted with the action, and after making Louisville his proxy vote in the matter he dramatically stormed out of the meeting room in disgust.

The ensuing back-and-forth lasted all day, but by 6 P.M. the group voted for what was referred to as the “Freedman Compromise” and Pfeffer’s reinstatement. The lines were clear, with six clubs (Louisville, St. Louis, Pittsburg, Chicago, New York, Philadelphia) voting for Pfeffer and four (Brooklyn, Cincinnati, Washington, Boston opposed). The owners did agree, 11 to 1, that the fine should be $500 instead of $800. Louisville, the lone dissenter, argued that there should be no fine at all.

Charlie Byrne defended the judgment, telling reporters, “Pfeffer got off very cheaply. In 1890 he joined the Brotherhood and helped in the attempt to wreck the League and baseball. In 1891 he deserted the Chicago League Club and associated himself with George Williams’ American Association team. … Last fall (1894) when the new, or rather the defunct, Association scheme was sprung, Pfeffer was in it up to his neck. … If we had reinstated him without some sort of punishment it would have been encouragement for other players to join future movements against organized baseball. Pfeffer can consider himself lucky.”21

The diction and word selection in Byrne’s statement is revealing in that he conflates the potential wrecking of the League with wrecking Organized Baseball. What was left unsaid, and not challenged by the press, was the reality that the profits of Organized Baseball fell to those few lucky owners of recognized League teams, and that threats to the collective bottom line would not be tolerated.

Closing out the meeting

A few additional items were handled to close out the agenda.The secretary of the South Australia Baseball Club, Mr. E. Kreusler, had sent a letter to the owners requesting that the National League send a team to Australia at the end of the American baseball season.“Kreusler wrote that such a visit would serve to boom the game in the Antipodes…as there was already considerable interest in the game in his country. …”22The magnates reportedly acted favorably to the idea, and referred the request to a subcommittee of Hart, Byrne, and Freedman.

The clubs agreed unanimously not to pay fines assessed to their players, and adopted the proposed schedule for the 1895 season. They also passed a resolution of regret over the death of Martin Stanford Robison, the father of Cleveland owner Frank Robison, and considered a petition to not rehire Tim Hurst as an umpire since he was also officiating other sports. Hurst was not immediately rehired, but his professionalism would force the owners to bring him back as an arbiter later that year.With that, the February meeting adjourned for the 1895 playing season.

Notes

1 Detroit Free Press, November 16, 1894: 2.

2 Ibid.

3 New York Tribune, November 16, 1894: 3.

4 Ibid.

5 Ibid.

6 Detroit Free Press, November 16, 1894. 2.

7 Detroit Free Press, November 17, 1894: 2.

8 New York World, November 16, 1894: 3.

9 Detroit Free Press, November 16, 1894.

10 New York Tribune, November 16, 1894.

11 Ibid.

12 Detroit Free Press, November 17, 1894.

13 New York Tribune, November 19, 1894: 9.

14 Ibid.

15 Ibid.

16 Sporting Life, March 9, 1895.

17 Sporting Life,March 9,1895: 8.

18 Ibid.

19 Ibid.

20 New York Times, November 19, 1894.

21 Sporting Life, March 9, 1895.

22 Ibid.

The most vexing controversies confronting meeting attendees can readily be identified: (1) recognition of a representative of the St. Louis franchise from between two rival claimants; (2) determining the size and makeup of the National League for the 1899 season, and (3) continuation of the newly-established Board of Discipline.

Comity, fellowship, and cooperation were thwarted before the meeting commenced due to the absence of New York owner Andrew Freedman. The Giants boss had been sorely offended by his fellow owners’ support of Baltimore outfielder Ducky Holmes during NL proceedings that stemmed from an on-field, anti-Semitic slur directed at Freedman. His boycott of the meeting was another manifestation of the league-punishing course upon which the proud and wealthy Freedman had embarked.1

National League Winter Meeting
December 13 to 17, 1898, Fifth Avenue Hotel, New York City

Before any business could be conducted, a determination had to be made regarding who to recognize as the official representative of the financially-failing St. Louis Perfectos (formerly the Browns). The contenders were club founder and principal owner Chris Von der Ahe as one choice with club secretary Benjamin S. Muckenfuss, the court-appointed receiver on the other. When the matter could not be resolved privately, the league voted to recognize Muckenfuss, 9—2, with Brooklyn (Ferdinand Abell) and Baltimore (Harry Von der Horst) dissenting.2 Loser Von der Ahe was permitted to attend all closed-door meeting conferences, but only as an observer.3

Press observers deemed the recognition of Muckenfuss another triumph for Cincinnati Reds boss John T. Brush, viewing Muckenfuss as no more than a Brush pawn to be sacrificed later in furtherance of a Brush master plan to reduce the 12-club National League to an eight-team circuit. Giving substance to this perspective were admitted discussions between Abell and Von der Horst regarding the merger their Brooklyn and Baltimore franchises; the clear designs that Cleveland boss (and Brush ally) Frank Robison had on the St. Louis territory; and the reported willingness of the owners of the fiscally-ailing Washington and Louisville franchises to sell their clubs.

Attending the contraction rumors was another reported Brush-scheme whereby jettisoned venues like Washington, Cleveland, and Baltimore would become the backbone of a newly-created circuit, a sort-of uber-minor league to be imposed atop the extant minor leagues, and to be deemed second in stature only to the National League itself. 4 Standing in the way of achieving the goals of all this plotting were two obstacles: (1) the binding 10-year working agreement existing between the current 12 National League clubs did not expire until 1902, and (2) abrogation of the pact before that date required unanimous consent.5

For the moment, these obstacles appeared insuperable, obliging league president Nick Young to begin preparation of a 12-club playing schedule for the 1898 season. Nevertheless, the long-term fate of certain NL franchises had been foreordained.

The report of the new Board of Discipline was much discussed, but to no conclusion, the magnate agreed to create an oversight committee of Brush, Chicago club president James A. Hart, and Boston triumvir Arthur H. Soden. They were instructed to devise proposals for expanding and strengthening the disciplinary board’s powers. 6 Amid much press disdain (given the profusion of untoward incidents that had occurred on the field during the season), the league also unanimously adopted a resolution praising NL players for their purported respect for the new conduct rules and decorous diamond behavior.7

Although not mentioned in contemporary reports, presumably the 1898 National League pennant was formally bestowed on the repeat-champion Boston Beanaters at some point in the proceedings, per custom. Housekeeping matters included the appointment of Philadelphia co-owner John I. Rogers to the vacant post on the Board of Arbitration, joining incumbents Brush, Soden, Robison, Hart, and NL Nick Young; and the drawing of lots for a new Board of Directors. Those chosen were Brush, Hart, Soden, Muckenfuss, Philadelphia co-owner Al Reach, and Washington club boss J. Earl Wagner.8

The gathering then adopted a Brush motion to engage a stenographer for future league meetings to ensure an accurate record of the proceedings could be created. Meanwhile in the privacy of hotel rooms, possible franchise moves remained under discussion, with only the sudden illness of Harry Von der Horst appearing to thwart finalization of the rumored Brooklyn-Baltimore merger. 9 The Louisville and Washington clubs remained for sale at $50,000, but neither franchise had received an offer when the meeting adjourned to late February.

National League Winter Meeting
February 28 to March 2, 1899, Fifth Avenue Hotel, New York City

The crisis involving the St. Louis franchise, significant changes in the league constitution and playing rules, and the authority of the fledgling Board of Discipline dominated the agenda of another tense league meeting held in Manhattan. Again conspicuous by his absence was New York Giants owner Andrew Freedman, making good on a vow not to attend league meetings until the Ducky Holmes unpleasantness had been redressed to his satisfaction. Boston co-owner Arthur H. Soden held Freedman’s proxy and would nominally represent New York club interests at the gathering.

Muckenfuss, successful in his recognition bid the previous December, now found himself on the hot seat, hauled before the Board of Arbitration on the first day of the meeting to explain St. Louis’s failure to comply with the board’s order instructing St. Louis to pay the Eastern League’s Wilkes-Barre Coal Barons $750 for the release of shortstop Suter Sullivan. After the Board of Arbitration adjourned the Board of Directors further found St. Louis owed $1,000 to Chicago for outfielder George Decker, and $1,153 in club dues and assessments to the National League office.

Muckenfuss acknowledged these debts, but with club assets frozen pending a court-ordered auction of the St. Louis franchise, disbursements could not be made from the club treasury without court authorization. The Arbitrators were unsympathetic, unanimously voting to suspend St. Louis from the protections of the National Agreement. The Directors intended to go further, wanting to expel St. Louis from the National League — until Al Reach pointed out, according to the League Constitution, no trial by the Directors could ensue since St. Louis was not disputing the facts. The board, fatefully, took no action and merely reported its proceedings to the league. Since the Directors had made “no finding or recommendation,” the League could do nothing but accept and file the Director’s report. St. Louis prevailed for the time being. 10

With the St. Louis debt a relatively small one and with other NL clubs also behind in payment of minor obligations, the move to expel the Perfectos was seen as a subterfuge. The St. Louis financial hardship, according to Sporting Life among others, was an excuse for Brush, Robison, and Hart to contrive forfeiture of the St. Louis franchise to the league and thereby make the territory available to receive the transfer of Robison’s Cleveland team.11

With achieving the constitutionally-mandated unanimity unlikely, director Hart thereupon moved to suspend expulsion proceedings to amend the league constitution as needed to achieve St. Louis’s eviction. This, in turn, provoked vigorous opposition from Philadelphia co-owner Rogers, an accomplished attorney and the magnates’ in-house legal counsel. Following heated debate, the Hart motion to amend the constitution was put to a vote and failed, with Washington, Boston, Baltimore, and Brooklyn registering their opposition before the motion was withdrawn by Hart. With that, the board resolution to expel the St. Louis franchise was “placed on file.”12 Further action on the St. Louis situation was then deferred until after the March 14 franchise auction-sale of the club had taken place.

Once it moved on to other fronts, the meeting yielded fruit. Recommendations contained in the report of the Playing Rules Committee (Hart, Reach, and Baltimore’s Ned Hanlon) were adopted unanimously. Chief among these rule modifications were those that required the catcher to remain within the catcher’s box until a pitch was released from the pitcher’s hand (Rule 17); a player in a uniform different from his teammates will not be allowed on the field (Rule 19); modified and refined various aspects of the balk rule (Rule 32); a foul tip caught by the catcher while in the catcher’s box is a strike (Rule 43), and restricted those in the coaching boxes to coaching, forbidding them from bench jockeying, arguing umpire calls, and interacting with spectators (Rule 52). A proposed amendment to add 50 feet, from 235 to 285, to the minimum distance a batted ball must travel to be considered a home run was strongly opposed by Boston and was subsequently voted down. 13

The magnates then discussed the rules and procedures of the Board of Discipline. Rather than expand the body’s powers as proposed in the report of its oversight committee (Brush, Soden, and Hart), the disciplinary board was effectively gutted by constitutional amendments sponsored by Philadelphia’s Rogers, a longtime Brush nemesis. Following adoption of the Rogers amendments, the board’s jurisdiction was curtailed, limited to complaints referred to it by NL president Nick Young following a three-quarters vote of approval by the 12-club league representatives. Other adopted amendments reduced the number of players that each club could place its reserved list to 18, and, in a thinly-veiled strike at the powerful Brush, shackled the practice of farming major-league players to affiliated minor-league clubs. From now on, such a player would have to be offered for sale to the other NL clubs at the draft price before he could be sent down to the minors.14

With the St. Louis situation unresolved, no action was taken on various playing schedules offered by president Young.15 The proceedings were then adjourned, subject to resumption at the call of the NL president once the St. Louis club was in the hands of new owners.

National League Winter Meeting
March 24 and 25, 1899, Fifth Avenue Hotel, New York City

A special owners meeting was convened in late-March to ratify new ownership of the St. Louis franchise and to adopt a playing schedule for the 1899 season. The Louisville, Pittsburgh, and New York clubs went unrepresented, content with leaving their votes to the discretion of proxy-holder Arthur H. Soden, the Boston club president.16 Before the League meeting started, however, a hastily organized Directors meeting became heated with two directors, Messrs. Rogers and Hart nearly coming to blows over the wording of a motion to expel the St. Louis franchise.17

In the weeks preceding the meeting, the fog shrouding the operation and ownership of certain NL clubs had lifted. Brooklyn co-owners Ferdinand Abell and Charles Ebbets and Baltimore club bosses Harry Von der Horst and Ned Hanlon had agreed to merge their operations, with Brooklyn to host the new syndicate’s premier nine. But with Opening Day looming on the horizon, a ball club would also be maintained in Baltimore for the 1899 season, if only to avoid National League scheduling nightmares.

The thornier problems presented by disputed control of the financially-distressed St. Louis club likewise seemed headed toward solution. At the court-ordered auction-sale of St. Louis franchise rights held 10 days earlier, Edward C. Becker, a major creditor of club founder Chris Von der Ahe, had purchased a controlling share of club stock. This, Becker intended to convey to Cleveland club boss Frank Robison, a prelude to installation of Robison as St. Louis club president and the relocation of his Cleveland nine to St. Louis.18 Again largely to avoid scheduling difficulties, a National League team representing Cleveland would be fielded for the 1899 season, with control of this satellite operation to be exercised by Frank’s brother, Stanley Robison.19

The principal purpose of the magnates meeting called by National League president Nick Young was to place the official league imprimatur on these franchise moves. But for reasons either grounded in law or in self-interest, Philadelphia co-owner Rogers turned obstructionist, stymieing the ratification process. Given that the NL Constitution required unanimous magnate approval of franchise ownership changes, Rogers’ stance was no mean problem for his fellow magnates. The “Philadelphia lawyer” that Rogers embodied came to the fore during maneuvers to get the St. Louis club into Robison’s hands.

After several procedural misfires, its floor managers got the franchise transfer process rolling by means of a resolution to expel the old St. Louis club from the National League — a parliamentary stratagem upon which everyone, including now-majority St. Louis club stockholder Becker, seemed agreed. But Rogers unexpectedly refused to go along until deficiencies in the language of the expulsion resolution were cured. This prompted irritated Chicago club boss Jim Hart to remark loudly that Rogers would have problems with its wording if “The Lord’s Prayer” were put to a vote.

Sharp words, followed by personal insult, were thereupon exchanged by the two men. A now-enraged Hart then threw a haymaker at Rogers — it either missed or just grazed Rogers’ jaw — prompting Rogers, a colonel in the Pennsylvania National Guard, to reach into his coat pocket. Whether Rogers was going for his revolver as onlookers feared, or just retrieving his spectacles as Rogers later claimed, Soden, Young, and others quickly intervened to separate the combatants.20

A short adjournment allowed passions to cool. But it did not resolve the impasse. When the meeting resumed, resolution backers attempted to embarrass Rogers by disclosing private correspondence between the Philadelphia magnate and deposed St. Louis club receiver Muckenfuss regarding renewal of a just-expired financial arrangement between the two clubs. Other NL clubs charged 50 cents for general admission to the ballpark. But Philadelphia had thrived charging only 25 cents general admission, with a reduced rebate to the visiting club.

Rogers, long a vocal defender of his club’s reduced general admission and rebate practice, was not cowed by the disclosure of his correspondence to Muckenfuss.21 He readily acknowledged his desire to reinstate the arrangement with St. Louis.22 In fact, Rogers would not permit transfer of the St. Louis franchise to Robison until the prospective new club boss would agree to its reinstatement. Robison knew he was beaten, and acceded to Rogers’s demand.23 The other magnates present then fell in line.24 When the meeting reconvened the following morning, Rogers absented himself, and the measures needed to officially transfer ownership of the St. Louis club to Robison were unanimously adopted.

With the St. Louis franchise controversy settled, and magnates committed to maintaining clubs in Cleveland and Baltimore for the 1899 season, the 12-club,154-games schedule presented by league president Young was quickly ratified. 25 With that, the proceedings closed.

Notes

1 For purposes of the meeting, Boston boss Arthur H. Soden (who also held a minority interest in the New York franchise) was given Freedman’s proxy. For a detailed account of the Ducky Holmes affair and its ramifications, see William Lamb, “The Ducky Holmes Game,” Inventing Baseball: The 100 Greatest Games of Nineteenth Century Baseball (Phoenix: SABR, 2013), Bill Felber, ed., 268—269, and Burt Solomon, Where They Ain’t: The Fabled Life and Untimely Death of the Original Baltimore Orioles, the Team That Gave Birth to Modern Baseball (New York: Free Press, 1999), 129—131.

2 “League Meeting,” Baltimore Sun, December 14, 1898: 6.

3 “Von Der Ahe Ousted,” Sporting Life, December 24, 1898: 4.

4 “Bereft of Baseball,” Baltimore Sun, December 16, 1898: 6.

5 “Still Twelve Clubs,” New York Herald, December 18, 1898: 4.

6 “League Whitewash,” New York Herald, December 16, 1898: 11.

7 The Board had reported no disciplinary action taken during the season, lending fuel to critics’ charge that the body was useless.

8 “But Little Done,” Sporting News, December 24, 1898: 3.

9 “No Change In League Make-Up,” Cleveland Plain Dealer, December 18, 1898: 12.

10 “The League Meet,” Sporting Life, March 11, 1899: 2. Among other things, mollification of Freedman would require return of the $1,000 fine imposed on the Giants by the league for forfeiting the game wherein Holmes had publicly insulted Freedman.

11 “World of Sport,” Baltimore Sun, March 1, 1899: 8.

12 “The League Meet.”

13 “Meeting is Ended,” Cleveland Leader, March 3, 1899: 6.

14 “The League Meet,” Sporting Life, March 11, 1899: 2—3. The new regulation, akin to the modern waiver rule, was intended to thwart the Brush practice of revolving players between the Cincinnati Reds and the Indianapolis Hoosiers of the Western League.

15 “Major League Meeting,” New York Clipper, March 11, 1899: 31.

16 “Another Turn-Up,” Sporting Life, April 1, 1899: 2.

17 “Major League Meeting,” New York Clipper, April 1, 1899: 91.

18 “Another Turn-Up.”

19 “Special League Meeting,” Baltimore Sun, March 27, 1899: 6.

20 “Major League Meeting,” New York Clipper, April 1, 1899: 91. “The Rogers Letters,” Philadelphia Inquirer, March 27, 1899: 4.

21 See “Another Turn-Up,” Sporting Life, April 1, 1899: 2, for a detailed account of the correspondence disclosure.

22 “The Rogers Letters.”

23 “Late Sporting News,” Washington Evening Star, March 27, 1899: 9.

24 After the meeting adjourned, Boston president Soden informed the press that Cincinnati, Chicago, Cleveland, and Brooklyn had refused to acquiesce in the arrangement. Philadelphia would remain obligated rebate their visitors’ share of the gate on a 50 cents general admission basis. “Unaware of Change,” Boston Herald, March 29, 1899: 8.

25 “A Revised Schedule,” Boston Herald, March 26, 1899, 2. Robison assumed the position of St. Louis club president, with Becker becoming vice-president, “A Lively Meeting,” Washington Evening Star, March 25, 1899: 7. See also, The Sporting News, April 1, 1899, for exposition of the Robison-Becker arrangement.

At annual meetings, the concerns of the Big Five were most often expressed by Chicago club President James A. Hart and Philadelphia co-owner John I. Rogers, an accomplished lawyer and the magnates’ in-house legal adviser. When he deigned to attend meetings, wealthy and temperamental New York Giants owner and President Andrew Freedman was a wild card, usually aligned with the Big Five but on occasion a faction unto himself.

The Little Seven franchises of Baltimore, Brooklyn, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Louisville, St. Louis, and Washington banded together for self-protection. Under the leadership of John T. Brush, the wily, iron-willed boss of the Cincinnati Reds, the Little Seven usually prevailed in contested league matters decided by majority vote. Consequently, the Big Five could and did become the Little Five when they were in the minority against the Big Seven. As we will see, the membership in these press-contrived rubrics was fluid.

Observers predicted that the meeting of November 1896 could be particularly rancorous, with the usual factional antagonisms exacerbated by any one of several potentially disputatious subjects, including the Amos Rusie case, the Patsy Tebeau fine, the Brooklyn players combine, problems in the Western League, proposed abolition of the Temple Cup, and actions taken a month earlier by the National Board of Arbitration (the Board).3

A quasi-judicial league body charged with resolving disputes among recognized baseball associations, major- and minor-league ballclubs, or players, the Board consisted of Brush, his close ally Brooklyn club President Charles H. Byrne, and Boston co-owner Arthur H. Soden as voting members, with National League President Nick Young, nonvoting member ex officio. Meeting in New York October 5-6, 1896, the Board, controversially as it turned out, adopted resolutions enlarging its own powers at the expense of the league as a whole. One of these resolutions reduced the size of the Board to four from five members, as had been recently prescribed by the League. The fifth seat had never been filled and the Board decided the likelihood of 2-2 ties was great, putting the onus, unfairly, on Nick Young to constantly break ties.4

Also thorny was the Board’s resolution to give itself “the power also to pass [i.e., rule] upon any question brought before it by a club member or members of any organization, where unjust discrimination has been made against any club or clubs. …” If the charges proved true, in the opinion of the Board, then it could impose fines and other penalties. The Board meant to remedy its impotence in the case of Indianapolis (partly owned by Board member Brush) and Minneapolis against the Western League, however, the catholic nature of the resolution rankled League magnates who rightly saw the Board’s ability to impose penalties on them.

National League Winter Meeting
November 11-13, 1896, Auditorium Hotel, Chicago

The meeting commenced with noncontroversial matters being resolved by the National League Board of Directors.5 Among other things, the directors changed the starting date of future winter meetings by a few days; extended the regular season closing date to October 15 (from October 1); declined to take further action in the Amos Rusie case; and deleted a provision (Section 4) from the NL Constitution regarding the fining of umpires who failed to report player offenses.

The directors also formally awarded the 1896 National League pennant to the Baltimore Orioles. They declined, however, to accept jurisdiction over a several-year-old dispute between St. Louis owner Chris Von der Ahe and three other club owners regarding the rental of Pendleton Park in Cincinnati, deferring to then ongoing litigation among the parties in the Ohio courts. After auditing the treasurer’s report, the Directors meeting adjourned and the Annual League Meeting commenced “a few minutes later.”6

The gathering7 turned heated almost immediately, with the usually noncontroversial reading of the minutes from the previous meeting providing the spark.8 Some of the Big Five owners, with Colonel9 Rogers leading the charge, expressed shock and chagrin when the closing paragraph of the minutes was read, to wit:

This [National] Agreement may be altered or amended at any time by the unanimous consent of the [National] Board [of Arbitration]. This amendment shall become operative after Feb. 24, 1896.10

Rogers et al. claimed the minutes were incorrect, that they would never have voted for such an amendment. The power, they asserted, to amend the National Agreement should remain with the League. Messrs. Byrne and Brush, among others, claimed the contrary. Byrne reportedly offered, “the board was not answerable for its actions to [anyone] except itself; that if the power which created it objected to its ruling it could only so express itself by choosing a new board.”11 A challenge to the Big Five, to be sure.

Rogers further objected to the Board’s work at its last meeting, in October, when it failed to elect a fifth member and gave itself the power to regulate any entity covered by the National Agreement. Brush and Byrne declined to argue the point further, apparently confident they would prevail once a motion to accept the minutes as written was put to a vote. Louisville’s Dr. T. Hunt Stucky, had other ideas however, and uncharacteristically joined the Big Five bloc in opposition. A vote to accept the offending paragraph as well as a vote to accept the February minutes was deadlocked, 6-6 (meaning they were not accepted).12

Brush, angered at the result, stormed out of the meeting. If Brush was surprised, so was Rogers. He was expecting his side to carry the point with seven votes, but Senators chief magistrate J. Earle Wagner change his mind at the metaphorical last minute. Since nothing further could be done on the minutes, the remaining owners unanimously agreed to direct President Young to create a three-member permanent committee on playing rules. The committee would consider and propose changes, reporting to the League at least 30 days prior to the annual spring meeting. With this quotidian matter resolved, the day’s session concluded. Dr. Stucky, as it turned out, had no shortage of company over the next 24 hours.

The Friday session was meant to start at 11 a.m. but the Big Seven were nowhere to be found. The Brush faction had sequestered Dr. Stucky and were impressing upon him the advantages of coming back their side. Meanwhile, the gelded Little Five, lacking a quorum, could do nothing but stew. Sprinkled within press accounts of ensuing developments were reports that Stucky demanded players and other benefits from the Little Seven in return for his vote.13 Alternatively, Stucky’s return to the fold was contingent upon Brush relinquishing ownership of the Western League club in Indianapolis.14 Other press accounts had the Cincinnati magnate doing the menacing, threatening to withhold lucrative Sunday playing dates from the Louisville club schedule for 1897.15

Whatever the cause, Stucky reversed his position when a motion for reconsideration of the Spring Meeting minutes was made. By a 7-to-5 vote, the minutes, complete with transfer of National Agreement amendment power to the Board of Arbitration, were approved. Getting angrier by the hour, the Little Five were calling for all-out war when this vote was official. “Brushism” had to go. “Rather than submit to it,” opined a nameless Fiver, “we will do the most serious thing that ever was done in the National League.” The intimation, of course, was secession.

With this contentious issue behind them (for the time being, at least), the magnates reelected President Young for another four years though he had one year remaining on his current contract. The Board of Directors for 1897 was chosen by lot, as it had been in the past, instead of by ballot. The new board included Freedman, Soden, and Wagner in the East as well as Stucky, Von der Ahe, and Frank Robison in the West.

Given what had transpired in the first two days of the Annual Meeting, it would have been reasonable to assume the election of members to the Board of Arbitration would be fraught, yet, it was not. A.G. Spalding was nominated but he refused the honor. The present board was placed in nomination. Before the vote, however, Dr. Stucky wanted an emendation to the eligibility rules, as follows:

“Resolved, [t]hat no member of the National League and American Association of Professional Base Ball Clubs shall be eligible to the National Board [of Arbitration] who has any pecuniary interest in any minor league club.”16

This resolution was aimed directly at Brush, who was known to have financial interest in the Western League’s Indianapolis franchise. Further it was his machinations, before the Board of Arbitration, to allow Indianapolis and Minneapolis to exit the Western League without hardship, that led to ill-will among the other League magnates. Rogers called for Brush to explain precisely his ownership stake in the Western League club. Brush surprised the crowd by claiming his initial $1,000 investment was gone and that he had no more than $50 in capital stock. He said also that he never used the stock and had no other ties to the club.

This satisfied his fellow magnates and he, Soden, Byrne, and Young were approved for another year on the Board of Arbitration. The outcomes of the second day left “Little” Seven leader Brush triumphant, and an unidentified “Big” Five magnate (probably Rogers) muttering darkly, “This thing cannot keep up much longer. We will do nothing rash, but we will bide our time.”17

That time would not be long in coming. Within 24 hours, Stucky and Washington club boss J. Earle Wagner defected from Little Seven ranks. At the third day’s session, Wagner made a motion to amend Article 34 of the National Agreement by striking “vested in the board of arbitration” and replacing it with “vested in the league.”18 The motion carried, 7 to 5, with Louisville and Washington voting with the Big Five.

After much rancor, hard feelings, contention, argument, Sturm und Drang, and changed minds, in the end, the Board had its wings clipped, with the power to amend the National Agreement being restored to the National League ownership fraternity as a whole.19 This final reversal appears to have been orchestrated (i.e., Brush allowed Stucky and Wagner to defect) and was reportedly done to promote harmony in the league. The five negative votes were merely nominal.20

When asked about the apparent charge of heart, Brush stated, “We wanted to show that we intended no arbitrary measures. I stand where I always have — in favor of the best interests of the League. … We had no intention to use any arbitrary powers. … Such talk is silly.”21

In other words, Brush and his compatriots did not like how Rogers and his brethren were trying to use disagreements about the minutes to change League policy. There was a process and it must be followed. No reporter, apparently, sought to press the Reds’ boss on how the League could give the power to change the National Agreement to the Board one day only to take it back the next. Seemingly, the Board would have had to relinquish the authority. So much for process.

Another split in ownership ranks was precipitated by news that star New York Giants hurler Amos Rusie had initiated a federal lawsuit against his employer. Rusie, represented by John Montgomery Ward, was suing the Giants for $5,000 damages and for his release. The star pitcher sat out the entire 1896 season because the Giants owner would not return fines Freedman had unjustly, in Rusie’s view, levied. Freedman also offered Rusie a smaller salary in ’96 than he had earned in ’95.

Because the suit threatened judicial review of the National League’s precious but legally suspect reserve clause, Freedman enlisted the support of his fellow owners. However, Brush, a frequent Freedman adversary in NL executive councils, opposed intervention in the Rusie lawsuit. The thin-skinned Freedman thereupon accused Brush and Robison of being the instigators of the Rusie litigation, an allegation that left the two “dazed.”

After Freedman had been “calmed down and an exciting scene narrowly averted,”22 a majority of the magnates decided to assist with the equity suit (whether Rusie would be released from his contract) but left the suit for damages with the deep-pocketed New York owner. Apparently, it was the individual owners who offered support, not the League. For example, Colonel Rogers, himself a Philadelphia lawyer, engaged the Chicago team’s attorney, Charles M. Sherman, to assist with his support of the Rusie equity suit.23

The remainder of the meeting dealt mostly with housekeeping matters. The new Playing Rules Committee would consist of Hart, Baltimore co-owner-manager Ned Hanlon, and Philadelphia co-owner Al Reach.24 Largely as a sop to Freedman, the magnates voted to abrogate the issuance of free ballpark passes by the league president.25

Accepting a judgment rendered by the Court of Common Pleas, Cuyahoga (Ohio) County, that vacated a fine imposed on Cleveland player-manager Patsy Tebeau as having been levied in contravention of the League’s own disciplinary procedures, the magnates voted to discontinue further proceedings against Tebeau and drop the matter. And by a 10-to-2 vote, club bosses rejected Colts President Hart’s annual motion to abolish the postseason Temple Cup match. Finally, the league awarded a $50 monthly stipend for life to Henry Chadwick, a token of appreciation for the venerable sportswriter’s contributions to the game.26 Once the sometimes-testy winter meeting was completed, club bosses from both sides of the Big Five-Little Seven divide repaired to the hotel café to share cigars and swap stories in anticipation of locking horns again in February.27

National League Spring Meeting
February 25-27, 1897, Rennert Hotel, Baltimore

Confounding widespread newspaper prediction of more factional strife, the late-February 1897 National League meeting found club owners working in harmony, the gathering amounting to an uneventful “love feast.”28 The only really divisive note sounded came from a league vote on expansion of the Board of Arbitration, the outcome of which left New York and Boston club owners temporarily estranged from their fellow magnates.

No Board of Directors meeting was conducted, while the Board of Arbitration attended to minor-league disputes that received little press attention. At the general business meeting attended by all club owners, the assembly decided, unanimously, to increase the Board of Arbitration by two members. Brush had made the motion to expand the board and, in an effort to promote harmony, Freedman, Rogers, and Soden went along with it. Brush, leaving nothing to chance, nominated Robison and Hart to fill the new positions.

This should have been perceived as a fair offer, an olive branch even, since Hart was from the Five and Robison, the Seven. The captious Freedman wanted Rogers instead but the Quaker refused to serve. The Beaneaters’ William Conant nominated Freedman but the latter knew where he stood in the popularity rankings. Consequently, Robison and Hart won easily, leading to bad feelings in the Big Five. Boston, Pittsburg, and Philadelphia did not bother to vote for any candidate.

Although Hart was nominated by Brush, it was not considered a defection or a realignment of the cliques. Apparently, the Chicago owner simply wanted to serve on the Board.29 Freedman and Soden were angered because, with the addition of Hart and Robison, the center of the Board’s universe shifted westward. The two perhaps thought Brooklyn’s Byrne was a closet Westerner since he sided regularly with the Queen City magnate.30

With that disagreement behind it, the meeting moved swiftly. Remarkably, the 1897 playing schedule proposed by league President Nick Young, in years past invariably a source of contention, was adopted without discussion or dissent, and released to the press.31 The schedule had not even been read aloud during the meeting. Young later announced that the 1897 schedule reduced travel by some 8,000 miles per club in comparison to the previous season.32

The magnates unanimously adopted the report of the Telegraphic Committee (Freedman and Robison), including its recommended directive that telegraph operators cease transmission of inning-by-inning game scores, viewed as a disincentive to fans coming out to the ballpark. Henceforward, only final game scores were to be transmitted. Western Union, the current contract holder, allowed each club $25 of free telegraph service. The magnates, predictably, wanted more. President Young pointed out that the current contract ran until December 31, 1897. It was very unlikely any changes could be made prior to that.33

Various recommendations of the Playing Rules Committee (Hart, Hanlon, and Reach) were also adopted. One new rule eliminated on-field coaches when the bases were empty. If a runner got on, one base coach was permitted. With two or more runners on base, both coaching boxes could be filled. Another new rule prohibited a team captain from leaving his position on the field in order to dispute an umpire’s ruling; if the captain played the outfield, he could communicate his disagreement to the ump via a megaphone!34

The scoring rules were also changed, so that if a stolen base figured in the scoring of a run, that run would be considered unearned. Meanwhile, the power to appoint official game scorers was conferred upon the league president, a move designed to eliminate hometown favoritism in base-hit and error rulings.

The question of National League intervention into the litigation initiated by Amos Rusie was revisited, with the magnates voting 11 to 1 (Brush dissenting) to support, as a league, Giants boss Freedman in the equity action, lest NL interest in preservation of the reserve clause in player contracts go undefended. “Messrs. Freedman, Soden, and Young were appointed a committee to attend to the matter and fight the case to the bitter end.”

As before, Freedman was still on his own, in the separate, damages suit.35 The gathering adopted the recommendation to create a Supervisor of Umpires position, with former Giants owner John B. Day appointed to the post at a $2,000-per-season salary. The club bosses also voted to increase the annual salary of League President-Secretary Young by $1,000, and to deputize club owners Byrne, Rogers, and Hart to explore the advisability of continuing with or replacing Sporting Life as the official press outlet of the National League.36

Finally, the last “bomb” was thrown by Bridegrooms’ best man Byrne, who surprised the gathering by stating his plan to charge, in addition to the regular 25-cent and 50-cent tariff, 35 cents for admission to covered bleachers. This raised the ire of the New York boss, who vociferously disagreed. He averred that Brooklyn was cheapening baseball in the Metropolitan area. Yet Brooklyn was well within its rights. There was nothing in the League constitution to prevent Brooklyn or any team from charging what it wanted as long as it was not less than 25 cents and as long as the visiting club received half the gate.37

While in Washington, DC, to attend President-elect McKinley’s inauguration, Byrne stated emphatically that he was not asking permission nor asking for a concession. “When the Brooklyn club, representing one of the greatest cities38 in the country, gets to the point where it has to plead the pauper act, or ask its associates for any consideration, the management will be changed and I will not be a party to it.”39

On the evening of February 26, the owners, club delegates, and newspapermen celebrated with a sumptuous private banquet hosted by Baltimore co-owner Harry Von der Horst. Their differences reconciled at least for the moment, the magnates regaled each other with toasts and speeches. A highlight of the festivities came from an unexpected quarter: acerbic Andrew Freedman. Asked by fellow owners for the location of Brooklyn, the usually humorless Freedman, a resolute Manhattan chauvinist, responded with “one of the happiest and wittiest speeches of the evening.”40

Notes

1 The official name of the organization was The National League and American Association of Professional Base Ball Clubs.

2 The Winter Meeting was usually held in the fall and the Spring Meeting was usually held in the winter.

3 “The League Meeting,” Sporting Life, November 14, 1896: 4.

4 “A New Amendment,” Sporting Life, October 10, 1896: 4.

5 At the time, the board was chaired by Boston boss Arthur H. Soden. The other directors were Harry Von der Horst (Baltimore), James A. Hart (Chicago), T. Hunt Stucky (Louisville), Phil Auten (Pittsburg), and J. Earle Wagner (Washington), with NL President Nick Young, ex-officio member.

6 “Major League Meeting,” New York Clipper, November 21, 1896: 605.

7 The delegates present were Soden and William H. Conant (Boston); Freedman and J. Walter Spalding (New York); Ferdinand Abell and Byrne (Brooklyn); Al Reach and Rogers (Philadelphia); Harry Von der Horst and Ned Hanlon (Baltimore); Wagner (Washington); Auten (Pittsburg); Hart and A.G. Spalding (Chicago); Brush and Ashley Lloyd (Cincinnati); Stucky and Charles Dehler (Louisville); Chris Von der Ahe and Walter Hetzel (St. Louis); Frank and Stanley Robison (Cleveland); and Nick Young, League president-secretary.

8 Some newspapers reported President-Secretary Young had forgotten the February League Meeting minutes and was relying on his memory. See, for example, “Powwow of Magnates,” Chicago Tribune, November 12, 1896: 8.

9 Rogers was a former judge-advocate in the Pennsylvania National Guard, attaining the rank of colonel.

10 “The League Meeting,” Sporting Life, November 21, 1896: 2. It is difficult to understand how any of the magnates could have been surprised by this amendment since it had been printed as Article 34 in the 1896 edition of Constitution and Playing Rules of the National League and American Association of Professional Base Ball Clubs (New York: A.G. Spalding and Bros., 1896).

11 “Major League Meeting,” New York Clipper, November 21, 1896: 605.

12 “The League Meeting.”

13 “Muddle in the League Meeting,” Columbus (Georgia) Daily Enquirer, November 13, 1896: 1.

14 “A Hot Baseball Fight,” New York Times, November 13, 1896: 7.

15 “Stuckeysic Breaks the Tie,” Chicago Tribune, November 13, 1896: 8.

16 “The League Meeting.”

17 “The ‘Big Five’ Beaten,” New York Tribune, November 13, 1896: 3.

18 “Agony Is Done With,” Chicago Inter-Ocean, November 14, 1896: 6.

19 “The Baseball League,” Daily Charlotte (North Carolina) Observer, November 14, 1896: 1.

20 “Ends in a Smile,” Boston Herald, November 14, 1896: 8.

21 “The League Meeting.”

22 “Power Back of Rusie,” Chicago Tribune, November 14, 1896: 7.

23 “Sharp Mr. Freedman,” Baltimore Sun, November 14, 1896: 6.

24 ”Stuckeysic Breaks the Tie.”

25 “Phillies Worsted in a Proposed Exchange,” Philadelphia Inquirer, November 14, 1896: 8.

26 “Agony Is Done With.”

27 “Pat’s Paean,” Cleveland Leader, November 14, 1896: 3. The article identified Cleveland club boss Frank Robison as mogul merrymaker-in-chief.

28 “The Magnates,” Sporting News, March 6, 1897: 2.

29 “’They Win,’” Boston Journal, February 27, 1897: 1.

30 “Major League Meeting,” New York Clipper, March 6, 1897: 10. National League President Nick Young remained as an ex-officio member of the board, but was empowered to vote only in the improbable case of a tie-vote of other board members.

31 “Phillies Fare Well in League Schedule,” Philadelphia Inquirer, February 27, 1897: 4.

32 “Soden Likes It,” Boston Herald, February 27, 1897: 3.

33 “The Baseball Council,” Baltimore Sun, February 26, 1897: 6.

34 Seriously. “The Magnates.”

35 “Princes of Baseball,” Baltimore Sun, February 27, 1897: 6.

36 F.L.H., “Philadelphia Is the Next Meeting Place,” Philadelphia Inquirer, February 28, 1897: 8. The National League Sporting Life contract had expired the previous month.

37 “The League Meeting,” Sporting Life, March 6, 1897: 2.

38 Brooklyn would be an independent city for only 10 more months.

39 “Echos sic of the League Meeting,” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, March 1, 1897: 3.

40 “Princes of Baseball.”

1. Flat Rock (a/k/a Druid Hill Park) 1858-1859

When Baltimore grocer, George F. Beam, formed the Excelsior Base Ball Club in the summer of 1858, the choice for a practice space was imperative since ball playing within city borders was often impractical, and at times illegal. Just south of the Rogers family’s Druid Hill plantation, there was an area originally called Flat Rock, named so for a large crop of stones near the road to the mansion. It’s hard to imagine, but until 1888, Baltimore ended at North Avenue, and anything beyond was rolling farmland.

Beam and teammates chose the treeless and loosely graded site of the old Mount Vernon Cemetery, as it was the flattest, clearest land for play. The cemetery was dedicated in 1852, but the space quickly filled to capacity and became overgrown with neglect. Nicholas Rogers, whose land the graveyard bordered, sued the owner to have the corpses removed and reinterred in Greenmount Cemetery to increase the value of his property, and the parcel went essentially unclaimed in 1858. It was an ideal location, with privacy and no neighbors to complain, but best of all, it was free.

It took some work, but once the men cut the weeds back and cleared out the debris, they laid out the very first baseball diamond in the State of Maryland. Home plate was surveyed with the batter facing east, and the pitcher facing the often-intrusive sun. Obviously, no local competitors existed at first, so they practiced and played inter-squad games on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, though within a year, they would be joined by other clubs.

Close to Flat Rock was a saloon owned by Jacob Hartzell, called the Park House, which became a convenient meeting spot for refreshments before and after practice. In years to come, teams would build small clubhouses out back to change clothes and store equipment. The diamond on the old cemetery was only used by the Excelsiors for a few months in 1858 and the beginning of 1859 when it was announced that the City had completed the purchase of the Rogers’ family lands to establish Druid Hill Park; the third municipal park in the country at the time. By 1870, the entire southeastern corner of the park was dug out, and a large retaining wall built up into the country’s largest earthwork dam at 119 feet high. Once the reservoir was flooded, all trace of the first baseball field in Maryland history vanished and has been under a permanent rain out ever since.

2. Excelsior Field 1859-1860

In 1859 the Excelsiors rented a piece of land on the border of the city at the corner of Madison Avenue and North Avenue, with Gold Street on the south edge. Baltimore’s public transit system was small and privately operated, but one route ran up Madison Avenue close to the ball fields, ending at the city boundary. This accessibility helped stimulate interest and the Continental, Druid, Oriental, and Peabody base ball clubs all came together over the next year, representing every corner of the city. The Baltimore Base Ball Club, a short-lived squad, made its mark on history on August 23, 1860, when they took on the Maryland Base Ball Club.

“BASE BALL- The first match game of base ball between rival clubs which has ever taken place in this city came off on the afternoon of the 23rd between the Baltimore and Maryland clubs. The game played on the grounds of the Excelsior club and was witnessed by about two hundred persons, a large portion of whom were ladies. The Maryland club have been playing but a very short time and the Baltimore for the last four months. The game was very well played, considering the disparity of ages between the members of the two clubs – the oldest members of the Baltimore club being but fifteen years of age, while those of the Maryland are all grown men. The playing of Master H. Vaughn of the Baltimore as catcher was very fine having caught four or five on the fly and as many on the bound. The batting of the Baltimore was better than the Maryland with but one exception, that done by Robert Green. The game was won by the Baltimore club with the following score: Baltimore 29, Maryland 11.”1

The Brooklyn Excelsiors came to town on September 22, 1860, to play at the Baltimore Excelsiors diamond on North Avenue. During the pre-game warmup the Baltimore American observed of the Brooklynites that, “the ball passed from one to the other with great precision, and seldom was it allowed to slip through the fingers of any of them. This little exhibition made it manifest that the Baltimore Club would learn a few new points before the game closed.”

The visitors took the field first, and crafty pitcher Jim Creighton retired the side in order, taking down George Beam on three pitches. Beam then took to the box and promptly gave up a bruising 16 runs in the first four innings. Brooklyn continued to pile it on while Creighton shut down Baltimore inning after inning, until he let a pitch slip and hit a batter in the head with a high fastball.

Creighton was moved to the outfield, where in the late innings of the one-sided slaughter, he started what was likely the first triple play to occur in the State of Maryland. Baltimore had Samuel Patchen on second and John K. Sears on third with none out. Hervey Shriver got a hold of a good one and sent it soaring into the sky. The long fly ball drifted back on Creighton, who made a spectacular catch on the run for the first out.

Without a pause, Creighton’s cannon arm threw the ball in to third baseman, John Whiting, who tagged Sears for the second out. Whiting then relayed quickly to Asa Brainard waiting at second, just in time to nab Patchen for the third and final out. Deflated by their base running gaffe and inability to defend against their opponent’s superior hitting, the home team was overwhelmed by a football-like score of 51-6.

3. Madison Avenue Base Ball Grounds, 1860 to mid-1870s

Early in 1860, William Clapham Pennington, a lawyer and future president of the Baltimore Fire Insurance Company, helped form the Waverly Base Ball Club. The Penningtons owned several plots near Flat Rock and took the initiative in establishing the Madison Avenue Grounds, the first formal baseball park in Maryland. With many players leaving to fight in the war, the Waverlys merged with the Excelsiors in 1861 to form the Pastimes.

The venue itself evolved over a number of years, each season bringing improvements and expansion: benches and grandstands, fences to enclose the area for privacy, and a section for women who wished not to mix with the foul-mouthed men. Most games cost 10 cents admission, and special events, such as out-of-town teams, cost as high as a quarter. The diamond was also rented out to other teams for practice and several clubhouses were built in the outfield to accommodate. In winter, the outfield was flooded, left to freeze, and turned into a skating rink.

The location of the Madison Avenue Ball Grounds was just south of the corner of Madison Avenue and North Avenue. Eutaw Place, and Morris Street now cut through what had been the spacious outfield.

On August 27, 1867, the New York Mutuals, one of the best clubs in the country at the time, took on the Pastimes at Madison Avenue. When it came time to play the Pastimes, though, the Mutuals made a grave error and sent their “B” squad to Baltimore, thinking (correctly) that their amateur foes were pushovers. Madison Avenue was filled to capacity, but little was expected of the Pastimes, and the home crowd was shocked when Dick Thorn of the Mutuals gave up 14 runs in the first two innings.

The New Yorkers switched positions several times with no improvement. In the ninth the Pastimes tacked on seven runs, including a three-run homer by Louis Mallinckrodt! When the dust settled, the lowly Pastimes of Baltimore had slain the mighty New York beast with a nice cushion, 47-31.

“In proportion to the elation and congratulation indulged among the Pastimes and their friends is the depression and mortification of the vanquished champions. Particularly was the victory of the Pastimes a source of jubilation from the fact that the Baltimore boys had not only to contend with the reputed best nine in the country, but also with a partial and biased umpire. Mr. Glover’s decisions were frequently so reprehensible, so flagrantly partial and unjust, as not only to provoke the murmurs of the Pastimes, but to call forth the criticism of the fair-minded members of the Mutuals, in whose favor he constantly awarded… Whatever may be said by the interested, prejudiced or biased, it must be admitted that the playing of the Pastimes was up to the best and highest standard exhibited anywhere in the country. Where all played so well it would be invidious to commend individual action.”2

4. Newington Base Ball Grounds (a/k/a Newington Park), 1871 to mid-1880s

In early November 1871, the Lord Baltimore Base Ball Club elected officers and began negotiating a 10-year ground rent on a plot of land off Pennsylvania Avenue at Gold Street for a new ballpark. By the end of the month, three covered grandstands had been built to seat 2,000, and an additional two-tiered stand was planned especially for stockholders. The final sale was delayed until just after the New Year, and by then primary investor Michael Hooper Sr. had withdrawn from the endeavor, leaving Alphonsus Houck and his brother George to purchase the property rights on their own.

Samuel Snowden, chief litigator for the Newington Land and Loan Company, one of the largest public investment firms in the city facilitated the sale. In a very early example of corporate naming rights, the Pennsylvania Avenue Base Ball Park, was changed to the Newington Base Ball Grounds, to seal the deal.

The Lord Baltimores National Association home opener at Newington on April 22, 1872, was a huge success. Bobby Mathews and the Lord Baltimores trounced the New York Mutuals, 14-8, in front of 2,500 screaming fans, and an estimated 1,500 more outside, standing on sheds and rooftops and the surrounding trees infested with children. It may not sound like a big crowd, but Baltimore’s population was less than 40% of what it is now.

Seizing upon local history, the Lord Baltimores sported specially-tailored white silk shirts emblazoned with the Calvert family arms, yellow and black argyle socks, and mustard gray knickers topped off with a white cap. It may sound acceptable on paper, but when the public saw them for the first time, they laughed. Nicknames were plentiful. Yellow Legs, Mustard Trousers, Dandelions, and Canaries. Not very flattering. The silk shirts were flimsy, and the men felt unprotected. Unfortunately, the Lord Baltimores collapsed after the 1874 season and Newington featured mostly amateur clubs for the remainder of the decade.

On Tuesday May 9, 1882, the American Association Baltimore Base Ball Club moved into Newington Park for their home opener. The Baltimores lost to the Athletics, 4-2, and would go on to compile a season so historically bad the franchise was taken away from owner/manager Henry Myers and given to Billy Barnie and Alphonsus Houck for a new club; the Baltimore Orioles.

5. Huntingdon Avenue Base Ball Grounds (a/k/a Oriole Park I), 1883-1888

The search for a first nest led the Baltimore Orioles to an empty lot on the east side of Greenmount Avenue, south of Huntingdon Avenue, now known as 25th Street. Owned by the Sadtler family trust, the parcel was a wide-open field on the outskirts of town that had been used for over a decade by amateur clubs for practice.

Unlike its predecessors, the ballpark was in a central location and readily accessible by public transportation. As soon as the ink was dry on the lease, construction began on the Huntingdon Avenue Grounds. Nestled in a residential area, the park used the space efficiently. Though smaller in acreage than previous ballparks in the city, the Orioles built upwards instead of spreading out. A central amphitheater style grandstand that sat 1,200 was raised above the field level with the bottom portion serving as the backstop.

Along the right and left foul lines were two long sets of bleachers that held over 2,000 each, with space in the deep outfield for standing room only. A 10-foot-high wooden fence enclosed the entire perimeter to discourage onlookers. By comparison to Madison Avenue and Newington, the soon-to-be-nicknamed “Oriole Park” on Huntingdon Avenue was state-of-the-art.

On June 16, 1887, a rowdy crowd showed up at Oriole Park, eager to see the Birds best St. Louis and flirt with first place. Curt Welch of the Browns was one of the roughest and rudest of his era; often described as an illiterate and vulgar umpire baiter. Oriole fans had their eyes on him.

The Birds and Browns were tied at eight in the ninth. After scratching out a single, Welch tried to steal second. When he realized he was going to be thrown out by Chris Fulmer, Welch slammed into second baseman Bill Greenwood, who dropped the ball just after impact. Umpire John McQuade called Welch out — but not loud enough or gesturing clearly enough for anyone to get the call.

Greenwood had held on long enough to make the play, but no one was looking at McQuade — and Welch didn’t immediately walk back to the Browns bench. Everyone thought Welch was called safe. When Bill Barnie burst from the Orioles bench to demand judgment, Birdland turned into bedlam. The stands emptied. Men swarmed past the barbed wire lined picket fences and on to the field — straight toward Welch’s throat!

Angry fans surrounded the Browns, pushing and shoving several to the ground. Barnie and Charlie Comiskey agreed to call the game a tie, in hopes it would disperse the furious fans. It didn’t work. The police lost control of the situation. Browns ace and local boy Dave Foutz tried his best to calm the crowd, but when the throngs seemed uncontrollable, several Orioles smuggled Welch out of the park and off to Camden Yards Railway Station to catch the first train out of town. However, when they got to the ticket office, there was already a small mob anticipating Welch’s stealthy departure.

With no escape, Welch hid in his hotel, waiting out the night with a growing crowd of irate Baltimoreans gathering outside his window. A court hearing was held in the morning in which a contingent of local fans banded together to bring assault charges against Welch. Greenwood was called in to testify, but pleaded Welch’s innocence instead; stating that the play was nothing out of the ordinary. Welch was released on a $200 ($5K) bond, paid in full by Orioles co-owner (with Barnie), Harry Von Der Horst, and wisely benched for the final game of the series. The Sporting News wrote, “The Baltimore audience displayed very little of the instincts of human beings, but on the contrary conducted themselves like idiots.”

6. Oriole Park (a/k/a Oriole Park II), 1889-1891

At the corner of York Road and Tenth Street, (now 29th Street and Greenmount Avenue), Bill Barnie and Harry Von Der Horst built the second Oriole Park, though it is the first to have that name exclusively for its tenure. The main grandstand, elevated to form the backstop, could seat 2,000, and there was a second tier with private boxes for press and VIPs. Bleachers on the first-base side sat 3,500, and a covered pavilion along third for another 1,500. A passageway under the grandstand would join the two halves, with generous standing room for the biergarten between.

The team clubhouse was tucked underneath the southern end of the covered pavilion. One drawback to the new location on 29th Street was that only the York Road streetcar line ran up that far. Patrons coming from the west now had the option of transferring streetcars or walking 15 minutes north.

General admission at the new park was held at 25 cents, but once inside a separate admission of another quarter would get you a grandstand seat, or 15 cents for the pavilion. The location was inconvenient and within a year the club would be forced to look for another location due to dwindling attendance. When construction on Union Park (Oriole Park III) lagged, Oriole Park (II) was used for the first home series of the 1891 season.

The 1889 Louisville Colonels were having the worst possible season imaginable. A streak of 18 straight losses brought them to Baltimore on Wednesday June 13, and their luck did not change. After losing to the Orioles, Colonels owner-manager Mordecai Davidson laid down a fine of $25 ($650) for each player if they lost again. The men brought up the issue of owed back pay and refused to take the field for the next game.

A war of words escalated, and Davidson made legal threats. A cancellation was hastily issued, and a doubleheader added to make up for it. As the minutes ticked away towards the next game, Davidson waited at Oriole Park for his men to show up. Only six Louisville players did. The umpire was ready to call a forfeit, but in a moment of ingenuity, Davidson hired three replacements right out of the grandstand to fill out the roster for the day. Local boys Charles Fisher, John Traffley, and Mike Gaule were suddenly in the majors! Their stay would be short, barely a sip of coffee, as a rainstorm cut their debut at five innings and Louisville losing their 20th straight, 4-2.

Following the game, striking Colonels Guy Hecker‚ Pete Browning, and Harry Raymond, consulted with Bill Barnie, who convinced them to return to their club and assured them their grievances would be brought before the American Association. Before the first game of the Saturday doubleheader, Barnie made a roster move. To give the Colonels an even chance, he added local pitcher George Goetz to the Orioles roster to make his one and only professional start. And Goetz pitched a pretty darn good game for a first-timer, giving up just three earned runs through the first seven innings before allowing another in the eighth.

Colonels pitcher Todd “Toad” Ramsey, a once dominant workhorse, had a sore arm and Baltimore came back to tie in the ninth and thus force extra innings. The Orioles then knocked in four runs in the top of the 10th to win the game, 10-6. The night cap didn’t go well for the Colonels either and were able to scratch out only one base hit against an ice-cold Frank Foreman. Louisville committed seven errors and Baltimore rolled to an easy 10-0 shutout. The Colonels losing streak would finally stop at 25 games.

All map images © Ken Mars 2016

Sources

Research for this article is based on the author’s book, Baltimore Baseball First Pitch to First Pennant 1858-1894, Old Frog Publishing, 2018.

Notes

1 Baltimore Daily Exchange, August 29, 1860.

2 Sunday Telegram, September 1, 1867.

Fall Meeting — November 1895

The National Board again met ahead of the general body, the lead item on the docket being a dispute between St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Indianapolis over a catcher named Ed McFarland, a player who had batted .343 for Indianapolis during the 1895 season. According to the account in Sporting Life, Chris Von der Ahe had agreed to trade Marty Hogan to Indianapolis for McFarland, “whereupon Cincinnati protested that he belonged to Cincinnati and not to Indianapolis, to which club he had been previously loaned.”3 Reds owner John T. Brush produced a legal contract with McFarland, so the catcher was sent to Cincinnati.

The Board also heard an appeal from John Montgomery Ward, again seeking release from his contract with New York based on a procedural error by the Giants a year earlier. Andrew Freedman quickly denied the claim, and asked that issue be tabled until the following meeting in order to give the Giants time to prepare their argument. After some discussion, Ward agreed that he would neither play baseball nor “connect himself with any baseball club,” and the issue was adjudicated as settled without further argument.4

Directors’ Meeting

At the subsequent League directors’ meeting that day, following the approval of the treasurer’s report, the group heard the cases of various players regarding fines assessed during the season. The directors, perhaps unsurprisingly, refused every case. Finally, the season’s championship was formally awarded to Baltimore. This judgment might be a bit curious to a modern observer, as Baltimore had lost the postseason Temple Cup series to the Cleveland Spiders, four games to one. Declaring Baltimore the champion due to the Orioles’ superior regular-season record, in effect, demonstrated the actual value the group placed on the entire postseason series.

The full meeting convened at 2:20 P.M. on the 13th for perfunctory administrative introductions. After a brief adjournment at 3 P.M., the group reconvened an hour later. Arthur Soden served as president and Nick Young continued as secretary/treasurer.

The group of owners included Baltimore owner Harry Von der Horst and Ned Hanlon; Boston’s Arthur Soden and team treasurer J.B. Billings; Louisville’s Dr. Thomas Hunt Stucky and owner Barney Dreyfuss; Chris Von der Ahe of the St. Louis Browns; Washington’s J. Earle Wagner; John T. Brush again representing the Cincinnati Reds; the Giants’ Andrew Freedman; Charles Byrne and Ferdinand Abell of Brooklyn; Pittsburgh owner William Kerr; Jim Hart of Chicago; and Frank Robison of Cleveland.

From the Eastern League, President Pat Powers was the lead delegate. Providence was represented by a Mr. William H. Draper, Wilkes-Barre by Mr. E.F. Bogert, Springfield by Mr. Sheehan, Syracuse by Mr. George M. Kuntzsch, and Toronto by Mr. John C. Chapman. Ban Johnson, president of the Western League, attended, along with James Manning of Kansas City and John Carney of Toledo. The New England League sent Tim Murnane, while the Atlantic Association sent Sam Crane. John H. Hanlon represented the Pennsylvania League, along with Messrs. Markle and Sharsig of Hazelton and Reading.

The first order of business was the reading and approval of minutes from the February 1895 meeting. After that was completed, the group considered an amendment to Section 2 of the League constitution. After a bit of minor wordsmithing, the new section read: “To perpetuate base ball as the national game and to surround it with such safeguards as to warrant absolute public confidence in its integrity.”5 It was then that the real negotiation began.

Sunday Baseball

Unbeknownst to the larger group, Freedman had assembled a cabal of like-minded owners the day before, the non-Sunday-playing organizations of Boston, Philadelphia, Pittsburg, and New York, to try to amend the constitution to prevent all Sunday baseball in the future. The group of four assumed that Brooklyn, Washington, and Cleveland would fall in line. It was pure politics, Tammany-style, a milieu both familiar and comfortable for the Giants’ owner.

Unfortunately for Freedman and company, Brooklyn and Cleveland voted with the Western clubs that relied on Sunday baseball for economic viability, and on the grounds that if the National League abdicated Sundays, then any potential rival, start-up league could enjoy a built-in opportunity to gain traction on the weekends. There was agreement that the non-Sunday-playing teams should play most of the Saturdays in the Sunday towns, that they should get preferential scheduling for Saturdays when playing in Cincinnati, St. Louis, and the others, while those Western teams would play each other on Sundays. It was an imperfect compromise, but it satisfied the owners.

Umpire Improvements

The next day the group considered Tim Hurst’s ideas — the same Tim Hurst that they’d chosen not to rehire the preceding February — on reducing and resolving complaints about umpiring and game management. The umpires generally agreed that the biggest problem was that team owners did not support the rules and associated penalties, and were still paying fines for individual players, thus eliminating any incentive for improved behavior. After some discussion, the owners determined that immediate ejection of offending players, in lieu of fining them, would be the best course of action in correcting bad behavior on the field. This gave the umpires a usable tool that did not provoke players the way that taking money did, and in a sense it reduced costs for the owners in that they would no longer be paying any fines at all.

The final wording read: “Resolved. That the Rules Committee, when elected, are requested to submit to this body an amendment to rule 59, substantially abolishing the infliction of money fines, and empowering umpires to remove from the ground any player who after being cautioned continues to be guilty of violating any of the rules, and in the case of serious violation to remove him without such caution.”

That was, in large part, the end of the real business of the meeting. The next action was the reading of a letter from Harry Wright, bequeathing his entire baseball collection of documents and other items to the league. The league accepted the items, and officially expressed its collective regret over the death of the Reds’ pioneer, entering into the record a formal statement eulogizing Wright and his contributions to the game. They also, on Byrne’s motion, agreed that every club officially recognize a day to be known as “Harry Wright Day,” with the proceeds from that game going toward a fund to build some sort of monument to Wright.

Wrap-up

With that completed, the delegates elected officers for 1896. Byrne, Soden, and Young were re-elected, and Brush was added for the first time. The Board of League Directors was filled by Von der horst, Soden, Wagner, Hart, Stucky, and Kerr, creating a division of three members from the East and three from the West. The Playing Rules committee was appointed by President Soden, and included Von der Ahe and Hanlon, along with Alfred J. Reach.6

The meeting wrapped up with Byrne proposing that anyone, in any capacity, who joined any other competing baseball organization be considered “simply … dead from the National Agreement point.”7 In other words, any future Pfeffer situations would result in a lifetime ban for every player involved. Several of the Eastern owners, leery of losing the services of particularly valuable players if implicated in some future scheme, opposed the action. Philadelphia, Colonel Rogers specifically, noted that he “proposed to be at liberty to withdraw from the National League the instant his property was jeopardized by any tomfool legislation.”8 Rhetorically, these brief snippets reveal the owner mindset as one of a modern feudal vassal, with players as his serfs and the greater good measured in terms of profit and loss for each magnate. Given the general disagreement, Byrne’s motion was tabled indefinitely.

As the members prepared to disperse, the minor leagues — represented largely by respective league presidents — requested greater representation among the body of owners. They were soundly and roundly denied. As a form of mollification, though, the National League did agree to pay additional compensation to those minor-league clubs when particular player contracts were purchased by the big leagues. This was business, after all, and baseball players were merely a commodity to be traded and manipulated. The various owners, executives, players, and writers went their separate ways, with the intent of reconvening after the holidays the following February.

Winter Meeting — February 1896

This meeting took place on February 24-25 in New York City, again at the Fifth Avenue Hotel.9 Just as in the immediate past, though, the National Board met a day earlier, on Sunday the 23rd, to discuss several matters in advance of the main battery of owners. There were no proposed changes to playing rules on the Board’s agenda, but it did delve into reconsideration of the decision by the owners during the meeting of the previous November, that umpires be allowed to simply eject players for bad behavior instead of imposing monetary fines.

In a very real sense, this sort of discussion represented the collective ethos of baseball ownership at the time — that the owners controlled production and product, and merely had to worry about selling it to consumers. As a historian has commented, “(The) National League, with its strict internal rules and methods of self-enforcement, was typical of private industry arrangements at the time. … Through private ordering, the owners set limits on their own competitive activities, allocating customers by means of exclusive territories and controlling the wages of players.”10 It was this perspective that framed both meetings in 1896.

The first full meeting convened on Monday, February 24, with President Arthur Soden and Secretary Young calling the magnates to order. The teams were represented as follows:11

• Boston — Soden, Conant, Billings
• Baltimore —Von der horst, Hanlon
• Brooklyn — Abell, Byrne
• Philadelphia — Reach, Rogers
• New York — A. Freedman
• Washington — J.E. Wagner
• Cincinnati — J.T. Brush
• Cleveland — Frank Robison
• Louisville — Dr. Stucky
• St Louis — Walter Hezel (Von der Ahe absent, due to physician’s orders)
• Chicago — Hart
• Pittsburg — D.L. Kerr (brother and proxy for team President William Kerr; co-owner Phil Auten was absent)
• Minor-league representatives included Ban Johnson (Western League), Tim Murnane (New England League), and T. Powers of the Eastern League.

National Agreement

The first docket item was to consider formalizing a permanent change to the existing National Agreement, based on the closing discussion from the November 1895 meeting, to codify permanent disqualification of any player, manager, or even minor league, who acted in opposition to the agreement. After a holiday season to consider not only the Pfeffer case but the entire gamut of potential threats that might continue to pop up if competition were permitted to evolve, several of the magnates felt this to be draconian but necessary prophylaxis. As was the case in November, when the loyalty resolution was proposed but not passed, this amendment was tabled until the following November.12

The rest of the “substance” of the new National Agreement increased the National Board to five members, and renamed it the National Board of Arbitration. Regarding the selection of players by the National League, it “shall be limited to the period from October 1 to January 1, and the following prices shall be paid for drafting players from the minor leagues: Class A, $500; B, $300; C, $200; D, $100; E, $75; F, $50.”13

The Ward Case

The loyalty clause deferred, the National Board spent the next three hours deliberating the case of John Montgomery Ward. The Ward case is well known, and the owners finally voted unanimously that “… the findings of this Board are that the said Ward was illegally reserved for the season of 1896, by reason of the fact that said Ward was not under contract with the New York Ball Club for the season of 1895 and did not refuse to sign contract with said club for said season. … [R]eleased from reservation …”14

Andrew Freedman, as New York’s owner the de-facto defendant, acquiesced without additional complaint, and Ward was released from his reserve status for the coming 1896 season. The ruling was merely a formality. Ward had already begun a second career as an attorney the previous July — lining up clients like Fred Pfeffer and Amos Rusie — and since 1894 had been finished as a professional baseball player. It was also a bit ironic, given Ward’s role as a rabble-rousing insurrectionist back in 1890.

With that work completed, the owners adjourned until Tuesday afternoon.

Minor League Taxonomy

When they did muster, it was only for a few small business items. First was the establishment of a formal hierarchy of leagues, with Class A being the top of the minor-league ziggurat, “in alphabetical order, according to the population of the cities played in by the clubs of the league. …”15 The Eastern League, Western League, and Atlantic Association were formally designated Class A, but the Pennsylvania State League was not. It was deemed to be a lower-level league.16

As the Chicago Tribune reporter noted, there was some resistance among all of the minor leagues to the process enacted by the National Association, that the big-league clubs could audition minor-league players in September, once the latter’s regular season had ended, without formally drafting or signing those players over that two-week period. This had the effect, the leagues claimed, of allowing the larger league to examine those players without compensating their minor-league owners. The cry, as might be expected, fell on deaf ears.17

Rule Changes

Additionally, several playing rule provisions were entered into the record, including the rule that fines were still to be issued for minor in-game indiscretions, and that player ejection was mandatory after the third such violation. This was a codicil to the umpires’ newfound authority to eject players for egregious offenses without even a warning. The owners also dictated that players be ejected for vulgar language, in an attempt to appeal to a wider audience and counter the stereotype of the crude, ill-spoken ballplayer.

The most interesting, and enduring, of the rule changes was the requirement that umpires “give corners of the plate” to the pitcher, that if a ball passed over any part of the plate while in the zone between shoulders and knees, the pitch must be called a strike. This was interpreted to mean that if any part of the ball touched that area, the pitch must be ruled a strike. That definition of the lateral legality of a pitch continues today.

Wrap-Up

The owners readopted the 1896 playing schedule,18 and decided to change the venue for the November meeting from New York to Chicago. Also, Jim Hart moved to abolish the Temple Cup series, but the motion failed by a vote of 7 to 5. Finally, “Secretary Young said that the members of the National League had instructed him to give all the effects of the late Chief Umpire Harry Wright, which related to baseball, to K.E. Stagg, to be placed in his custody at the new Chicago University. …”19

With the brief meeting over, the owners adjourned until the fall.

Notes

1“The Moguls Meet,” Sporting Life, November 16, 1895: 2.

2 “Baseball Magnates Gathering,”Chicago Tribune, November 13, 1895: 8.

3 “The Moguls Meet.”

4 Ibid.

5 Ibid.

6 “Fines Abolished,” New York Times, November 15, 1895: 3.

7 “The Moguls Meet.”

8 Ibid.

9 Elmira (New York) Star Gazette, February 24, 1896: 1.

10 Roger L. Abrams, Legal Bases: Baseball and the Law (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1998), 22.

11 Elmira Star Gazette.

12 Chicago Tribune, February 25, 1896: 8.

13 Ibid.

14 “The National Board,” Sporting Life, February 29, 1896: 2.

15 Chicago Tribune, February 26, 1896: 8.

16 Ibid.

17 Chicago Tribune, February 25, 1896: 8.

18 Times-Picayune (New Orleans), February 26, 1896: 8.

19 Ibid.

The gatherings were highly productive in terms of the adoption of new legislation and policy, although some initiatives, particularly the player-conduct commandments known as the Brush Resolutions, would prove impractical or unenforceable. As was the practice, the meetings were conducted behind closed doors, and with the official minutes now lost, the following description of events is based on contemporaneous newspaper coverage, with preference given to The Sporting News and Sporting Life.1

National League Winter Meeting
November 9—13, 1897, Hotel Walton, Philadelphia

The November 1897 National League meeting was a “record breaker” in terms of its duration; the “absolute harmoniousness” displayed by club owners; and the importance of the legislation adopted. This “meeting will be one to stand forth among League meetings as a white mile-stone in the path of progress,” declared Sporting Life.2 The magnates’ stay in Philadelphia was elongated by an unprecedented number of banquets, sightseeing tours, and other amusements, with little more than the equivalent of two full working days devoted to League business. Still, a number of significant measures were adopted before the session closed.

The National Board of Arbitration, made up of club bosses Brush, Arthur H. Soden (Boston), James A. Hart (Chicago), Frank Robison (Cleveland), Charles H. Byrne (Brooklyn), and nonvoting ex-officio member Nick Young, the NL president, met on Monday, November 8, and again on the 9th. Compared with the controversy generated the previous year, this year’s meeting was quiet. The Board granted the request of the Boston, Chicago, and Louisville clubs who each wanted a “trial player” minimum salary of $600. Further, they declared Philadelphia Athletics players given to the Phillies in lieu of rent subject to the reserve clause. The Board declared the transaction tantamount to a sale.

The only other matter getting much ink was a dispute between Brooklyn and Pittsburg over the rights to minor-league second baseman Bill Eagan, decided in Pittsburgh’s favor.3 This decision led to subsequent emendations of Article 13 of the National Agreement by the League. In the future, written notice of all player acquisitions had to be submitted to Young’s office within 10 days of the deal.

Over several brief and desultory sessions, the Board of Directors, Soden, Robison, Andrew Freedman (New York), J. Earle Wagner (Washington), Harry C. Pulliam (Louisville), and Chris Von der Ahe (St. Louis), handled a variety of noncontroversial chores, including accepting President Young’s report, auditing the financial statements, and officially awarding the 1897 National League pennant to the Boston Beaneaters.

The board also granted umpire Tom Lynch’s request for salary withheld during the month he had been unable to work due to illness, but dismissed several player claims. To accommodate Young, a longtime employee of the US Treasury Department, the board authorized the relocation of League offices to Washington, DC. The proceedings thereupon adjourned, with board members joining other magnates for the next scheduled pleasure excursion.

The magnates met briefly on Tuesday evening, November 9, to approve the Directors’ report and to consider breaking the telegraphing monopoly held by Western Union. A competitor, the Postal Telegraph Company, wanted a piece of the action. The matter was referred to the special committee (Hart, Freedman, and Robison) formed the previous spring to deal with all matters telegraph. The League wanted a report by the ’98 spring meeting.

Additionally, the delegates spent several hours on Tuesday listening to a report from the Board of Arbitration. The proposal, made at the behest of the affected minor leagues, restructured the process by which minor-league players were drafted from Class A organizations (then the Eastern, Atlantic, and Western Leagues). The principal features of the new regime were: (1) a prohibition on National League club drafting of a player until that player had completed two years’ service with his minor-league club and (2) agreement that no more than two players could be drafted from a minor club’s roster during a given year.

In return, in an amendment offered by Brush, the magnates wanted (3) official sanction of the “loan” of a NL player to a minor-league club, subject to that player’s recall to the NL within 30 days. The members decided to defer decision until later in the week.4

Wednesday and Thursday saw very little League business transacted; however Philadelphia and St. Louis consummated a substantive trade. The Phillies sent veteran utilityman Lave Cross, pitcher Jack Taylor,5 33-year-old catcher Jack Clements, and outfielder Buttermilk Tommy Dowd to St. Louis in exchange for regular shortstop Monte Cross, Villanova alumnus pitcher Red Donahue,6 and everyday catcher Klondike Douglass.7

After outings, excursions, banquets, and much toasting, the business meeting finally got serious on Friday. In short order, a number of important policy initiatives were adopted. Acting upon the concerns of minor-league executives in attendance at the meeting, the League adopted the drafting rules considered on Tuesday if the minor leagues would agree to the loan provision. These draft-rule changes, however, were not meant to affect the purchase, sale, or trade of player contracts. As before, such mutual-consent transactions could be completed at any time.

Major revisions were made in the length and structure of the League playing schedule. Beginning in 1898, the regular season would be expanded to 154 games from 132 games, with the makeup of postponed games fostered through relaxation of previously observed rescheduling mandates.8 Extended homestands were eliminated, with no club permitted to play at home for more than two weeks at a time.

For scheduling purposes, the 12-club circuit was divided into four regions: Northeast (Boston, New York, and Brooklyn); Southeast (Philadelphia, Washington, and Baltimore); West (Pittsburg, Cleveland, and Chicago); Southwest (Cincinnati, Louisville, and St. Louis). Each club would now make four road trips (rather than the previously customary two) to each region during the regular season. In-season exhibition games between NL clubs were prohibited.

Finally, the annual motion to abolish the postseason Temple Cup of Chicago club President Hart garnered widespread support. Only Baltimore’s Ned Hanlon and New York’s Andrew Freedman, whose clubs figured to be leading contenders for Temple Cup play in 1898, objected. For the sake of unanimity, Hanlon and Freedman withdrew their objections and the motion was adopted unanimously. A committee consisting of President Young, Bridegrooms boss Byrne, and Pittsburg club executive William H. Watkins was thereupon appointed to consult with cup donor William C. Temple regarding disposition of the trophy.

Another major policy change was the NL’s adoption of the two-umpire system. President Young was authorized to employ a 12-umpire staff, with the direction that preference for new positions be given to “ex-League players who have good educations and reputations.” The game itinerary for each NL umpire for the entire 1898 season was to be drawn up in advance by Young and kept secret from the clubs and the sporting press. No umpire was to appear in more than six consecutive games involving a particular team. Rules governing the double-umpire system would be developed by the Rules Committee (Hart, Al Reach, and Ned Hanlon).9

Player deportment was the topic of considerable meeting attention, as the influential Brush had long been vexed by “foul, indecent and obscene language on the ball field.” A powerhouse committee of Brush, Hart, and Soden was then charged with preparing recommendations for the suppression of objectionable player conduct and language to the next league meeting.10 Housekeeping matters included settling $75 on an off-duty Cincinnati fireman injured by a beer glass thrown back into the stands by umpire Tim Hurst; the unanimous reelection of the incumbent Board of Arbitration; and the random selection of a new Board of Directors consisting of Messrs. Wagner, Pulliam, Watkins, Harry Von der Horst (Baltimore), Al Reach (Philadelphia), and Chris Von der Ahe (St. Louis). Following an attendees’ vote of thanks to the Philadelphia club for the generous hospitality,11 the proceedings adjourned until February 1898.12

National League Spring Meeting
February 28-March 2, 1898, Southern Hotel, St. Louis

The two national baseball weeklies agreed that the League meeting in St. Louis had bent to the will of Cincinnati Reds boss John T. Brush, but their views on the beneficence of this outcome could not have been more different. To The Sporting News, Brush had authored “the brightest page written in the history of baseball.”13 Further, it declared that the legislation enacted by the magnates, particularly the player disciplinary measures known as the Brush Resolutions, would leave “followers of the great and only national game … well pleased with the work of the league moguls.”14 Conversely, Sporting Life fumed at league subservience to “Dictator Brush,” and derided the meeting as no more than a “passive instrument to register [Brush] decrees, to work out his desires, and to further his personal and sectional interests.”15

The meeting began in routine fashion, with the Board of Arbitration, absent a member following the death of Brooklyn’s Charles H. Byrne.16 The Board attempted to fill the vacant spot with Reach, who was having none of it. He had no objection to serving but he did not believe the Board had the authority to add members to its ranks. The Board also refused to amend the National Agreement’s minor-league draft rules as expected. The deal with the Class-A leagues fell through when they demurred on the player-loan proviso. The matter was referred to the League. After several minor-league disputes of limited import were resolved, the meeting was adjourned.

It is not clear if the Board of Directors met prior to the start of the spring meeting. Only the St. Louis Post-Dispatch claimed they did. If they did, they did not meet for very long and likely only decided to form a committee on what to do about the vacancy on the National Board of Arbitration.17 The general business meeting commenced at 8:00 p.m. Monday, February 28, with all teams but one represented. The New York owner, Andrew Freedman did not attend but Boston triumvir Soden held the Giants’ proxy. Soden, as always, presided over the group with the multifaceted Nick Young as secretary.

The first order of business was the creation of a committee (Brush, Hart, and Philadelphia co-owner John I. Rogers) for the purpose of developing resolutions honoring the lamented Mr. Byrne. The resolutions were expected to “include telegrams of regret from league presidents, newspapermen, and others throughout the country.” The reading of the minutes transpired without incident. Bridegrooms director Ferdinand Abell formally introduced new Brooklyn President Charles H. Ebbets, who was warmly welcomed by the other magnates. Ebbets expressed his thanks, telling the owners, “I am glad to be among you and trust that our relations will always be pleasant.” The ad-hoc Temple Cup committee reported that the Cup had been returned with thanks to Mr. Temple.18

The meeting then turned to the League constitution. Rogers, representing the Committee on Revision of Constitution, gave his report. He claimed to have perused the constitution and had, he opined, emendations to make the document “more perfect.” Amendments adopted included a change to Section 33 which, for games when the league-designated umpire failed to appear, authorized the team captains to select one player from each side (rather than a spectator) to serve as official game umpires. Section 35 was amended to require that a game protest be filed with the league president within five days of the contest, and allowed five days for a response from the opposing side.

As modified, Section 45 allowed a canceled game to be made up during the same series between the clubs or during the next visit of the opposing club. Previously, canceled games had to be played on open dates, a scarce commodity during the season. This change would allow for more doubleheaders. The provisions elsewhere in the constitution preventing the twin bill were revised.

Other amendments required that rain checks be issued to spectators for any game forfeited before five innings had been played (Section 53); and reduced the game forfeiture sanction to a $500 fine, halving the previous $1,000 penalty (Section 54), if the forfeit was caused by other than the players not taking the field. The date of the League meeting was changed from the second Tuesday in November to the second Tuesday in December. The impetus for this change was the growing popularity of football and the presumed lack of interest in baseball in November. Sporting Life called this “A Wise Change.”19

The power of game umpires to mete out on-the-spot punishments was reaffirmed but clarified, serving as a prelude to meeting consideration of a new and comprehensive disciplinary regime: Brush Resolutions. There was some discussion of these comprehensive revisions on Monday night, but given the late hour, the meeting was adjourned.

Crafted and championed by their namesake, a longtime proponent of player decorum standards and a prim, humorless magnate, the Brush Resolutions sought to suppress rowdy behavior and the use of vile or obscene language on the ball field by means of disciplinary measures that ranged from fines to suspensions to expulsion from the game.

The 23-point program that embodied the resolutions was largely devoted to matters of process and procedure; what exactly constituted actionable conduct or language was left undefined in the resolution text.20 But “any person or persons, whether player, manager, umpire or club official of any club, member of this League or spectator” offended by player conduct or language could initiate the disciplinary process by filing a complaint with the league president.21 Thereafter, the evidence submitted to the president by the complainant and by the accused in defense would be forwarded to “a tribunal of judges … to be called the ‘Board of Discipline.’” This board was given “absolute authority to acquit or convict on the evidence submitted.”22

Upon conviction, no appeal was allowed, except in cases where the ultimate sanction of “life expulsion” was imposed. Those permanently banned from the game could seek review and modification of the sanction from the National League Board of Directors.23 After some modest changes to mollify Hanlon and Robison, leaders of the two most unruly clubs in the National League, the Brush Resolutions were put to a floor vote and passed unanimously.24

Tuesday had been consumed with abolishing the vile and the obscene. After that long day, the baseball powers were ready for tamer fare. The Playing Rules Committee led off with two reports. Hart and Reach offered the majority opinion while Hanlon gave the minority report. The two differed only slightly, with the biggest difference in the power of the umpire to determine the duration of a player’s suspension. The majority wanted the umpire to have power to suspend a player for “kicking” and to set the length of the hiatus. Hanlon granted the umpire the power to put a player out of the game but wanted the League president to determine if a suspension was necessary and if so, for how long.

More than 2½ hours of discussion ensued, the outcome of which was the strengthening of the now two25 umpires’ powers as codified in Rules 54-62. A compromise was reached between the majority and minority of the Rules Committee as shown in Rule 61. The umpire would be allowed to suspend a player but only for three games, including the one from which he was ejected. The umpire was also bound to notify the league president immediately.

Again, it was Brush leading the way to cleanse the game of its coarseness. For the game to be respected, the umpires had to be respected and had to have authority. He encouraged his fellow magnates to instruct their players directly on the consequences of excessive arguing with and general disdain for umpires. “… All of us must get into line right here or be forever condemned and denounced by the press and the public of America,” orated the Reds boss.26

All the owners signed a letter stating their emphatic support of the stronger umpiring rules and the Brush Resolutions. Although Soden had Freedman’s proxy, he did not think it extended to this letter. Consequently, a copy with 11 signatures was sent to the New York magnate in hopes that he would affix his. The owners also crafted a letter to the League players, to make sure all who were under contract were aware of the new rules and to set expectations. The players were expected to sign and return the letter indicating they had read it. The letter discussed “the enormity of this evil,” the Board of Discipline and its composition, and the rationale behind protecting “patrons from this villainously filthy language.”

Given the clarity and transparency of this missive, the magnates were confident that “if any player suffers because of this law of reform and its penalties it will be his own fault.”27

In other rules news, Hanlon wanted runs scored on “battery errors,” i.e., wild pitches, bases on balls, and the like to count as earned. This was rejected. Hart and Reach wanted nothing less than the abolition of the earned-run average as an official statistic. They claimed it was not an effective tool for measuring a pitcher’s value. This and the adoption of what would become the modern stolen-base rule prevailed by 6-to-5 votes. The bunt was allowed to remain but by an equally slim margin. There were other tweaks to the balk rule, players’ position on the bench when not otherwise in the game,28 and attempts to clarify several other rules. The tinkering drew brisk criticism from the press. Sporting Life went so far as to claim it was tinkering to oblige Jim Hart, who they averred was “not a visionary enthusiast [and] who probably never played the game.” Why Reach signed with Hart instead of Hanlon was “past finding out.”29

For the second year running, meeting attendees ratified without controversy or rancor the season schedule proposed by Young. The magnates also voted to not renew the leaguewide relationship with Western Union. The Postal Telegraph Company offered $120 worth of free telegraph service but it was not enough for the “thrifty magnates.” From now on, each club could contract with the telegraph service of its choice.30 The League decided against having an official newspaper in 1898. Wagner suggested, as a tribute to the late Brooklyn club president, that the vacant position on the Board of Arbitration be left unfilled until Byrne’s term expired. The other magnates heartily agreed and the motion carried. Lastly, to prevent recurrence of the excesses of the Philadelphia winter meeting, the magnates placed a ban on banquets and other extravagances.31

Notes

1 Based in Philadelphia, Sporting Life could bring all of its resources to bear on the fall meeting. The Sporting News, based in St. Louis, could do the same for the spring. Further, being weeklies, they had the time to report and ruminate not afforded the dailies. Lastly, their editorial styles were antithetical to each other’s.

2 “Fine League Meet,” Sporting Life, November 20, 1897: 2.

3 “Board Decisions,” Sporting Life, November 13, 1897: 2.

4 “Fine League Meet.” Also “League Association,” New York Clipper, November 20, 1897: 631.

5 Taylor would lead the League in losses in 1898 with 29.

6 Donahue led the League in losses in 1897 with 35.

7 “Deal with St. Louis Goes Through on Time,” Philadelphia Inquirer, November 11, 1897: 4.

8 For example, setting the date and place of a makeup game would no longer require the consent of the visiting team.

9 “Double Umpire System Adopted at Last,” Philadelphia Inquirer, November 14, 1897: 8; “League Association.”

10 The committee’s work yielded the much-lampooned and unenforceable Brush Resolutions, considered below.

11 The meetings had been spiced by a banquet at the Hotel Bellevue; a “Night in Bohemia” at the Pen & Pencil Club; a “Tally-Ho” carriage tour of Fairmont Park; a lavish supper at Indian Rock; and excursions on the Delaware River.

12 “Fine League Meet.”

13 “Higher Plane,” Sporting News, March 5, 1898: 1.

14 C.A. Conrand, “Cleaner Ball,” Sporting News, March 12, 1898: 1.

15 “One-Man Power; Sham Reform,” Sporting Life, March 12, 1898: 2.

16 Byrne died on January 4, 1898.

17 “Caught on the Fly,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, March 1, 1898: 5.

18 “Magnates Get to Work,” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, March 1, 1898: 5.

19 “The League Meeting,” Sporting Life, March 12, 1898: 3.

20 The full text of the Brush Resolutions was published in the 1898 Spalding Base Ball Guide, 195-197.

21 “Brush Resolutions,” Section 2.

22 “Brush Resolutions,” Section 4. Board of Discipline members were not to have a financial interest in any NL club, and were to be elected at the annual league meeting (Section 12). Proposed for membership on the initial board were L.C. Krauthoff, Kansas City; Louis Kramer, Cincinnati; and Frederick K. Stearns, Detroit, per Section 13.

23 “Brush Resolutions,” Section 8.

24 “Higher Plane.”

25 According to Rule 56, the umpires would be designated Umpire, who would take his place behind home plate, and the Assistant Umpire, who would work the bases. A suggestion to call the Umpire the Referee-Umpire had a short life span.

26 “Major League Meeting,” New York Clipper, March 12, 1898: 26.

27 “Higher Plane.”

28 In the Please-Don’t-Eat-the-Daisies section, Rule 18 specified that uniformed players could not sit with the spectators.

29 “The League Meeting,” March 12, 1898: 5. News organizations present at the league meeting “unanimously agreed” to continue to publish pitcher ERAs notwithstanding NL decertification of the statistic. Philadelphia Ledger, March 3, 1898.

30 “Hereafter League Base Ball Players Must Be Good,” Philadelphia Inquirer, March 2, 1898: 4.

31 “League Session Ended,” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, March 3, 1898: 4.

During the offseason, a bruise on Marty Bergen’s right hip, the result of sliding into home in one of the final games of the 1898 season, developed into an abscess, necessitating surgery on January 21, 1899. Although the surgery went well and Bergen quickly recovered, Boston manager Frank Selee sought to secure insurance behind the plate. On March 2 the club purchased Bill “Boileryard” Clarke from Baltimore. Clarke, a solid receiver and a six-year veteran, had been deemed expendable by the Orioles and their new player-manager, John McGraw, after Clarke objected to a proposed salary cut. Although Bergen remained Boston’s first-string catcher, the presence of Clarke may have only exacerbated his growing feelings of paranoia and antipathy toward his teammates and Selee.

With the Beaneaters scheduled to begin training in Durham, North Carolina, on March 24, expectations ran high for the new campaign. “The Bostons,” wrote one prognosticator, “are practically the same team as last season. … This team has played for a number of years together and understand each other thoroughly. Their team work is perfection, and none excel them in batting, fielding, and base running. Nicol [sic], their pitcher, is king of them all, and will be ably assisted by Klobedanz and Willis. From the lights seen at the present writing, it looks as if Boston would be the champion of 1899.”1 Lauded another, “Here is a magnificent aggregation of talent, containing as it does the best infield in the league, a grand outfield, and splendid batteries. In brief, the team that beats Boston out this year will be entitled to championship honors.”2 That the team failed to arrive at camp intact might have been taken as an omen. Center fielder Billy Hamiltonbegged off to stay home with his sick wife; first baseman Fred Tenney, second baseman Bobby Lowe, and pitching ace Charles “Kid” Nichols delayed their arrival to attend to personal matters; and shortstop Herman Long and new Beaneater Clarke received permission to skip training camp altogether and join the team for the opening game. Marty Bergen was, to no one’s great surprise, a no-show.3

Boston broke camp with one rookie, pitcher, Oscar Streit, on the roster. The 25-year-old left-hander, who had won 22 games the previous season between the Western League’s Columbus Buckeyes and Dayton of the Interstate League, was expected to help pick up the slack in the absence of starting pitcher Ted Lewis, felled by illness just before the start of the season and expected to miss the remainder of April.

The Beaneaters began the work of defending their championship at Washington Park in Brooklyn. During the offseason the Brooklyn and Baltimore teams had merged ownership groups, with Orioles owner Harry von der Horst and manager Ned Hanlon becoming part-owners of the Brooklyn club. Von der Horst appointed Hanlon manager of the rechristened Superbas, and shifted several of the Orioles’ best players, including first baseman Dan McGann, shortstop Hughie Jennings, pitcher Jay Hughes, and outfielders Willie Keeler and Joe Kelley, to Brooklyn. Veteran shortstop Bill Dahlen, acquired by the Orioles from Chicago in January in a trade for second baseman Gene DeMontreville, was also transferred to Brooklyn.

Amid festive bunting and the music of the 23rd Regimental Band, the Beaneaters and Superbas paraded onto the field on April 15 before an overflow crowd of more than 21,000. Billy Hamilton, leading off for Boston against William “Brickyard” Kennedy, singled just out reach of Jennings, and had advanced to third when Long hit a long fly to left-center. Upon the catch by Kelley, Hamilton took off for home. “But Captain Kelley was out to show a fast pace and the ball hardly touched his hands before his arm flew back and it came flying toward the plate. Hamilton was moving fast, but the relentless sphere was faster, and it came into Alex Smith’s hands as perfectly placed as would have been possible had the thrower walked in and handed the ball to his catcher instead. The run was not only cut off, but Hamilton was out, and the team was retired in a manner to suit the most exacting critic.”4 Kelley’s crowd-pleasing throw, and another a few innings later that beat Hugh Duffy by a step as he tried trying to take two bases on an error, proved crucial as the game remained scoreless through nine innings.

The winning run was achieved by Boston in the 11th, when Bergen hit to Jennings, who threw past McGann, allowing Bergen to take second. Nichols advanced the runner to third on a groundout and Tenney tripled to deep center, scoring Bergen. Brooklyn was retired easily in the bottom of the inning to secure a 1-0 victory for Boston and a shutout for Nichols.

Boston dropped the next two games to Brooklyn before both teams traveled to the South End Grounds for the Beaneaters’ home opener on April 19. With an overflow crowd finding spectators encircling the field, ground rules were enforced, each batter being allowed a base for a hit into the crowd. Brooklyn failed to capitalize, and Nichols hurled his second straight shutout, winning 7-0.

An outpouring of hitting by Boston and splendid pitching by Vic Willis the next day in Washington was too much for the Senators, Boston winning 17-1, on 21 hits, 19 of them singles, including four by Tenney. On April 21 Oscar Streit made his major-league debut, defeating Washington 7-3 despite issuing seven bases on balls.

Boston took its fifth straight with a 10-1 victory in Washington on April 24. The six-hit pitching of Klobedanz, who contributed a home run to the scoring, came as a welcome relief after he’d been shelled for 15 hits in an 11-7 loss to Brooklyn in his first start of the season. With a record of 6-2, the Beaneaters were in second place, a game behind the surprising 6-0 St. Louis Browns.

None of this could have mattered to Marty Bergen, who received a telegram that day that his four-year-old son had been taken critically ill. Bergen left the club to head home, but little Willie Bergen died of diphtheria before his father could reach his side. “It’s pretty tough that my boy should be taken away,” Bergen lamented to neighbors, “but it seems a great deal harder still to think that I should just get home in time to see him being taken out of the door in a box.”5 Until Bergen rejoined the club on May 6, Clarke assumed the catching duties and George Yeager, the prior season’s backup receiver, was recalled from Worcester.

Kolbedanz was knocked out of the box in the first inning of his next start, in Philadelphia on April 27. Streit pitched poorly in five-plus innings of relief, and right fielder Chick Stahl pitched the final two innings. The Phillies capitalized on 14 walks given up by Boston’s pitchers in winning 20-3, handing the Beaneaters their most decisive loss of the season. The loser of four in a row as April turned to May, Boston slumped to 7-7 and seventh place.

A serious blow was dealt to the club on May 2 when Billy Hamilton, batting over .400 at the time, wrenched his knee sliding home with a run in a 9-2 win at Baltimore. He was initially out for two weeks, and a strained tendon plagued the aging star for the remainder of the season, limiting his playing time to 84 games and reducing his speed and agility on the basepaths. Chick Stahl was moved to the top of the batting order, and utilityman Jimmy “General” Stafford was pressed into duty as the center fielder in Hamilton’s absence.

Barely a month into the season, it was apparent that outside of Nichols and Willis, Boston’s pitching was not performing up to snuff. Klobedanz, 19-10 in 1898, had struggled in winning once in five decisions, and the rookie Streit had not impressed enough to pitch in more than two games. On May 11, with the Boston club hovering just over .500 in sixth place, Selee released Klobedanz and Streit and signed veteran southpaw Frank Killen. Killen had topped NL pitchers in victories in 1893 and 1896 with Pittsburgh, but had started the 1899 season 0-2 with the hapless Senators and been released.

“The champions are handicapped in the box,” observed one journalist. “Nichols and Willis are in good shape. [Charlie] Hickman, Lewis, and Killen are not to be depended upon, and the members of the team have little confidence in any of these men at the present time.”6 But Killen made an impressive debut with the club, limiting Louisville to five hits in a 13-4 win on May 19. “This is the left-hander we have been looking for for a long time,” someone on the Boston squad was quoted as saying, “and now that we have him there is no way on earth to keep us from winning the pennant again.”7

In an otherwise dreary 5-2 loss at Washington on May 15, Marty Bergen demonstrated why he was considered the circuit’s best defensive catcher when he threw out five runners attempting to steal.

Bergen, though, was struggling in his mind. After his son died in April, Bergen began to imagine that his teammates were making light of the boy’s death and joking about it behind his back. His teammates, in turn, would later confess they felt “an indescribable fear”8 whenever they were in his company.

On June 20, in one of the hardest-fought contests of the season, Kid Nichols matched Chicago’s Clark Griffith inning for inning, each giving up a single run in the fourth and nothing thereafter, and carrying the game into extra innings. Finally, in the 13th, with two men on and two outs, Chicago second baseman Barry McCormick fumbled what ought to have been the third out, loading the bases. Griffith, perhaps rattled, walked in a run before giving up a bases-clearing double to Jimmy Collins. Nichols went the distance in the 5-1 victory.

Collins, the league’s premier third baseman in only his third season, put together a string of 18 straight games without an error, ending on June 3.

On June 21 Charlie Frisbee, “crack outfielder of the Western League,”9 a .316 hitter over four minor-league seasons, was plucked from the Worcester roster to be Hamilton’s on-again, off-again replacement in center field. Although no match for Hamilton’s skill at the bat and on the basepaths, Frisbee would prove an adequate substitute, stroking the ball at a better-than-.300 clip all season.

Still looking to bolster the pitching staff, Boston signed Harvey Bailey, a 22-year-old left-handed pitcher for the independent South Bend club, on June 29, and put him in the pitcher’s box the next day. Bailey looked sharp in his major-league debut, scattering seven hits and one walk in nine innings in beating Cleveland 3-1.

“When a team begins to lose,” observed the Pittsburgh Press, “all kinds of stories are put into circulation. The latest report is to the effect that the Boston players are fighting among themselves. The fact that Ted Lewis … threatened to leave the team the other day and go home would indicate that there is not the best of feeling among the players. Lewis is one of the nicest players in the business, and would not make such a declaration unless there were some reason for it.”10

The Beaneaters were suffering internal unrest, but they were hardly losing. From May 11 through June 15, they had won 23 of 28, mostly on the strength of hitting by Tenney and Stahl, both batting over .350, and had climbed into second place behind Brooklyn. The Superbas, though, were all but uncatchable, winning games at an astonishing pace, including 12 in a row from May 28 through June 9, and 20 of 21 through June 22. As June came to a close, Brooklyn sat atop the NL at 45-18, a .714 percentage, with Boston five games back at 39-22 (.639).

On July 1 Boston took on the Cleveland Spiders, 11-48 and on their way to an abominable 20-134 won-lost record for the season, in a doubleheader at League Park. In the opener Boston, behind the splendid three-hit pitching of Willis, led 7-0 going into the ninth inning when Cleveland, “by a batting streak such as they have seldom developed, sent seven men across the plate and tied the score.” In the 11th, after Boston had scored twice to regain the lead, Cleveland, having driven Willis from the box, rallied for three runs off Ted Lewis to pull out an exciting victory and send the disbelieving crowd into a celebratory frenzy. In the six-inning second game, the Beaneaters pulled themselves together and, in support of a two-hit, scoreless performance by seldom-used starter Charlie Hickman, pounded Cleveland’s Fred “Crazy” Schmit andHarry Maupin for 14 runs on 17 hits.

Boston was, in its next game, on July 3, on the receiving end of a 15-2 pounding from Washington, loser of 18 of its last 19. Killen was driven from the box in a nine-run explosion by the ordinarily woeful Senators in the third. An unusual play unfolded in the eighth inning when with two on, Washington’s Shad Barry hit a fly that landed safely in deep center. After racing around the bases with what appeared to be a home run, Barry was called out for failing to touch first base, depriving him of even a base hit.

A stripped but still competitive Orioles team hosted the Beaneaters in a July 4 morning-afternoon doubleheader at Baltimore’s Union Park. After taking the morning game 2-1 when Ted Lewis walked the bases full in the sixth and allowed the Orioles’ Jimmy Sheckard to drive in the winning run on a sacrifice fly, the Orioles stole another close one in the afternoon, 5-4, from Nichols. Steal, indeed – with two out in the fourth inning, John McGraw reached on a bunt single, then stole second, then third. Nichols walked Ducky Holmes, who became “engaged in dodging up and down the base lines.”11 While Nichols was distracted, McGraw took off for home and got his third stolen base of the inning. In doing so, McGraw became the first player in history to steal second, third, and home in the same inning. (Louisville’s Honus Wagner duplicated McGraw’s feat less than a month later, on August 1. Wagner today shares a record with Ty Cobb, each having accomplished the feat four times.)

The pair of losses dropped the Beaneaters into fourth place behind Brooklyn, Philadelphia, and Chicago. A turnabout in fortune gave Boston four straight victories and returned the team to second place.

On July 9 the Grand Rapids Cabinet Makers of the Interstate League filed a protest with the national board claiming that Harvey Bailey had signed with the team before jumping to Boston. Bailey denied accepting terms with Grand Rapids, but the board upheld the team’s claim, and Boston was forced to turn over $300 to buy Bailey’s contract.12 Opting for the younger Bailey, Selee released Killen on July 28, despite the veteran’s 7-5 won-lost record. The gamble worked for Boston, as Bailey went 6-4 before season’s end.

Batting records through July 12 showed Philadelphia’s Ed Delahanty leading the NL at .421, with Boston’s Fred Tenney fourth at .394. Despite distractions, Bergen topped the league’s catchers in fielding percentage.13

On July 21, on the way to Cincinnati with the team to begin a long Western road trip, Bergen, suitcase in hand, stepped off the train in Washington, and caught another train for home. Bergen “has melancholia at times,” one of his teammates told The Sporting News. “When he has one of his spells he talks of nothing but his children and home and usually jumps a train and goes to them.”14 Selee fined Bergen $25.

“[Bergen] says that last season he had trouble with one of the players, which was magnified. He claims he could not get a day off to see his family, and that Selee would not listen to his excuses for going home; that at Chicago, at least four members of the team went out of the way to abuse him every time he went to bat, and would call out ‘Strike him out’; that one player, after the loss of [Bergen’s] child, continually reminded him of his trouble.

“He says he left the team at Washington because he found that Selee and most of the players were avoiding him. He is in good condition, with the exception of his nerves, which he says will be all right ‘if the boys play ball and let up aggravating me while manager Selee sits silently by.’”15

While observers weighed Boston’s chances at the pennant without their star backstop, Boston players were irritated at Bergen’s allegations. Meanwhile, Clarke was catching every inning of every game in Bergen’s absence.

Selee wired Bergen to return at once or not at all. Bergen tore up the telegram. On July 28 he met with club President Arthur Soden, telling him he was “subject to a nervous trouble, and when he was attacked he had no control over himself but to get away from the team as rapidly as possible.”16 Soden advised Bergen to rejoin the team when they returned from their road trip.

The prodigal catcher’s return turned out to be one of the finest games of his career. Against the Washington Senators at Boston on August 4, Bergen threw out all three runners who tried to steal. The fans at the South End Grounds cheered Bergen like a returning hero each time he came to bat. In the ninth inning, with two out, Boston down 3-2 and men on second and third, Bergen drove a single to left that scored both runners and won the game. “After the game Bergen was a mark for the crowd, who cheered him until he went out of sight.”17

His teammates, still riled over what Bergen had said about them in the newspapers, bristled at the cheers for Bergen, believing that the public had taken Bergen’s side. Before the game the next day, the Boston players demanded that Bergen retract his allegations, but he refused. Threatening to strike and delaying the start of the game by 15 minutes, they took the field only after Bergen alleged that he had been “incorrectly quoted.”18

Boston enjoyed its biggest offensive afternoon of the year at home against the Cleveland Spiders on August 8. The Beaneaters teed off on Frank Bates, scoring four runs in the first, another in the third, and five more in the fourth to take a 10-1 lead. Harvey Bailey faltered in the fifth, with Cleveland scoring four runs on four singles and a home run by center fielder Tommy Dowd. Hickman replaced Bailey for the final four innings, as Boston added three more runs in the seventh, and another five in the eighth. In all, the Beaneaters tallied 20 hits, including home runs by General Stafford and Hugh Duffy, winning 18-8.

One game behind the first-place Brooklyn squad on August 10, Boston began to shake up the roster. Jouett Meekin, 5-11 as a starting pitcher with the New York Giants, was purchased for $5,000 on August 11. Meekin posted a 7-6 won-lost record and a fine 2.83 ERA over the remaining two months of the season. The next day, despite batting .302 in 55 games, utilityman Stafford was released. None of Boston’s moves would make a difference in trying to catch the Superbas, who were busy winning 26 of 30 games between August 11 and September 14

Batting above .310 through most of the summer, third baseman Jimmy Collins twisted his ankle while sliding in a game against Baltimore on August 19, and although he remained in the lineup, his hitting suffered, and his average fell more than 30 points by season’s end.

Making more roster moves, Selee gave second baseman Mike Hickey and pitcher Billy Ging each a one-game trial. Hickey went 1-for-3 on September 14, but his defensive play showed “poor form.”19 Ging’s outing, on the other hand, was a good one; he tossed eight innings of five-hit, one-run ball on September 25 in beating the New York Giants, 2-1. Curiously, Ging never appeared in another major-league game.

Another young player, 24-year-old Billy Sullivan, later an outstanding defensive receiver for the American League’s Chicago White Stockings, was purchased in September from the Western League’s Grand Rapids Furniture Makers. Sullivan made his debut behind the plate on September 13, ultimately getting into 22 games as Bergen’s erratic behavior increasingly cost him playing time.

A Boston loss to Baltimore on September 5, in the middle of a 3-6 slide, allowed the Philadelphia Phillies to slip past the Beaneaters into second place. Held scoreless in consecutive games, September 8-9, by Brooklyn’s all-star aggregation, Boston fell behind in the standings by double digits.

On September 25 Bergen again went home after splitting his finger in a game in New York against the Giants, leaving only a note for Frank Selee.20 He returned unannounced a week later, showing up in Boston, where the Beaneaters were again to take on the Giants, and suiting up for the game without speaking to anyone, not even Selee.

Finally, on October 9, Bergen appeared to suffer a mental breakdown during a game against Philadelphia. Imagining someone was trying to stab him with a knife,21 Bergen leapt out of the way of several pitches, letting the ball fly by. One of these dodged pitches was a third strike to Ed Delahanty with two men out, allowing him to reach first base.22Selee removed Bergen from the game. “Bergen Makes a Farce of His Position,” remarked a headline in the Boston Globe.23

Boston won 13 of 18, including one tie, down the stretch, including three shutouts –by Lewis, Willis, and Nichols – in four games against Philadelphia. They had reclaimed second place on October 2, but were unable to gain further ground on the Superbas, who captured the pennant with a 101-47 record, eight games ahead of the Beaneaters.

Bergen, playing in only 72 games in 1899, caused considerable tension and disruption for the rest of the team. “Mr. Soden makes no bones in asserting that his club has lost the pennant on account of the Bergen trouble,” a newspaper said. “This created a bad feeling on the team, on account of which the men did not play the ball of which they were capable.”24

No doubt. But Bergen hadn’t sidelined Billy Hamilton, whose strained tendon cost him 64 games and contributed to a sharp decline in his batting average. from .369 in 1898 to .310, and his stolen-base total from 54 to 19. Jimmy Collins’s slump in the second half of the season hurt, too, his totals dropping from .328 with 15 home runs in 1898 to just .277 with 5 four-baggers. Fred Tenney and Chick Stahl batted .347 and .351, respectively, and Hamilton’s frequent stand-in Charlie Frisbee hit .329 in 42 games. Vic Willis enjoyed a superb sophomore season, winning 27 against only 8 losses, with a league-leading 2.50 ERA, but staff ace Kid Nichols, after three straight seasons with 30 or more wins, turned in a disappointing 21-19 won-lost record, and Ted Lewis dropped to 17-11 after going 26-8 for the pennant-winning club of 1898. The generally overlooked Charlie Hickman was a perfect 6-0 with a pair of shutouts in nine starts out of 11 appearances in the pitcher’s box, and added eight more games as an outfielder-first baseman, batting an impressive .397 with seven triples in only 63 at-bats; next season would find him playing regularly at first base for the New York Giants.

The postscript to Boston’s 1899 season is a tragic one. On the morning of January 19, 1900, Marty Bergen surrendered to the demons in his mind. Rising early, he took an axe and murdered his wife, Hattie, 3-year-old son, Joe, and 6-year-old daughter, Florence. Standing before a mirror, he then took his own life by slashing his throat with a razor.25 The next day, 800 mourners gathered at St. Joseph’s Church in North Brookfield. Only one member of the Boston club – Billy Hamilton, Bergen’s roommate on the road – attended the funeral. Frank Selee sent flowers.

The era of Boston’s baseball greatness had also come to an end. After winning five pennants in the 1890s, the club managed one only winning season in the next 14, losing 100 or more games five times. By the time the team hoisted another pennant, it was 1914 and they had been rechristened the Braves. Meanwhile, a new Boston team, a charter member of the rival American League, had opened for business at a ballpark across the railroad tracks from the South End Grounds. As one dynasty ended, another was about to begin.

RICHARD RIIS is a writer, researcher, and genealogist with an abiding interest in baseball since he beheld his first baseball card in 1964. In addition to contributing to the SABR BioProject and 10 SABR books, he has been a contributing editor for a popular music magazine and is presently working with his friend and former child star Pamelyn Ferdin on her memoirs. He lives in South Setauket, New York.

Sources

In addition to the sources listed in the notes, the author also consulted:

Caruso, Gary. The Braves Encyclopedia (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1995).

Kaese, Harold. The Boston Braves, 1871-1953 (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 2004).

Notes

1 “Leaders of the National League,” Nashville American, March 6, 1899: 6.

2 “Promise Good Sport,” Daily Inter Ocean (Chicago), March 7, 1899: 8.

3 “Players Were Scarce,” Baltimore Sun, March 22, 1899: 6.

4 “Brilliant Base Ball Opens the Season,” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, April 16, 1899: 10.

5 William Nack, “Collison at Home,” Sports Illustrated, June 4, 2001: 71.

6 “Must Play Faster,” Pittsburgh Press, May 17, 1899: 5.

7 “Made Scores in Bunches,” North Adams (Massachusetts) Transcript, May 20, 1899: 6.

8 “Tragedy on Heels of Romance,” Cincinnati Post, January 23, 1900: 2.

9 “Baseball Briefs,” Buffalo Evening News, March 7, 1899: 14.

10 “Plays and Players,” Pittsburgh Press, July 3, 1899: 5.

11 “Orioles on Top,” Baltimore Sun, July 5, 1899: 6.

12 “World of Sport,” Buffalo Commercial, July 25, 1899: 7.

13 “Baseball Briefs,” Washington Evening Star, July 17, 1899: 9.

14 “Selee Reinstates Bergen,” The Sporting News, July 29, 1899: 5.

15 “Bergen’s Tale,” Cincinnati Post, July 26, 1899: 5.

16 “Bergen Is Penitent,” Philadelphia Times, July 29, 1899: 11.

17 “Bergen’s Triumph,” Boston Globe, August 5, 1899: 1.

18 “Brooklyn Sends Meekin in Air,” Deseret Evening News (Salt Lake City), August 23, 1899: 5.

19 “St. Louis 11-7, Boston 1-4,” Kansas City Journal, September 15, 1899: 5.

20 “Baseball Gossip,” Detroit Free Press, September 27, 1899: 6.

21 William Nack, “Collison at Home,” Sports Illustrated, June 4, 2001: 80.

22 “The Phillies Play Fast Ball and Defeat Boston in the Second Game,” Philadelphia Times, October 10, 1899: 10.

23 “Tie for Second,” Boston Globe, October 10, 1899: 3.

24 “Recent Peace Conference,” Washington Evening Star, October 13, 1899: 8.

25 “Bergen’s Awful Deed,” Illustrated Buffalo Express, January 21, 1900: 14.

After deep financial losses during the Brotherhood war of 1890, followed by the costs of continuing conflict in 1891 and paying off those clubs left behind from consolidation, the League magnates expected a robust peace dividend from its monopoly position. Peace, however, did not equate to profit. Having completed its first season since 1881 as the exclusive league for major-league baseball, the League clubs approached the offseason awash in red ink and looking for ways to return to the black. The League faced a virtual crisis in New York, as its biggest club suffered the deepest losses of all.

Financial instability led to questions about the new 12-club structure itself. In looking to correct course, the clubs looked to save money as well as make money. To that end, clubs engaged in deep cost-cutting efforts with respect to player salaries, pursued rules changes to increase offense, and altered the schedule to maximize attendance.

Financial crisis in the league and salary-cutting efforts

Financial problems dogged the League throughout the 1892 season. The hard-won and expensive monopoly failed to produce the expected windfall and declining attendance only exacerbated the League’s problems. In early October as the season approached conclusion, the magnates met in New York to initiate steps to address the financial situation. Aggregate League losses were estimated at $100,000, with New York ($25,000), Baltimore ($18,000), and Brooklyn ($12,000-$20,000) accounting for more than half of that total.1 In a refrain that would echo throughout baseball’s coming history, NL President Nick Young commented, “One thing has been demonstrated clearly — that base ball must in future be conducted on a purely business basis. …”2

Coming out of the New York meeting, the magnates undertook to save costs where possible, and salary reduction was the primary means for doing so. All signs pointed toward implementation of an informal salary cap of a $30,000 across League clubs. There was nothing formal in its institution, but that number took hold. Young deflected talk of a concerted effort to reduce salaries. As The Sporting News reported, “So far as salaries are concerned, it was agreed to let every club regulate its own affairs. …”3

The reserve clause, combined with the lack of competition from another league that might offer higher salaries, assisted the magnates’ effort to achieve a salary cap, formally or informally, by forcing individual maximums. While there was no formal limit as in the 1880s, $2,400 became the informal limit for individual players in the 1890s.4

Clubs adopted differing approaches to achieving the common goal of a salary cap through individual forced limitations. They also got to work immediately. In an effort to save a half-month’s salary and force salary reductions, New York released three players, Shorty Fuller, Amos Rusie, and Mike Tiernan. New York President John B. Day blamed lower attendance and the Brotherhood fight for the moves. It also appeared that Day retaliated for the players’ earlier refusal to accept midseason salary cuts and intended to induce compliance among others.5 One New York official commented, “Take my word for it, few players will get over $2,500 next year.”6

Washington served all but three players with 10 days’ notice of their release, a move intended to save the club $2,500 in salaries for the final half-month of October.7 Club President and former Association stalwart Chris Von der Ahe took similar steps in St. Louis. Pittsburgh pressured its players to call their contracts on October 15, effectively giving back two weeks’ salary.8 Other clubs, in an attempt to provide a legal veneer to the effort, wrote up new contracts for just six months instead of 12; still others drafted one-year contracts with some money paid in the offseason as a way to exercise control over a player’s physical condition when he reported in the spring.

The magnates reconvened at the Richelieu Hotel in Chicago on November 16 and 17 (reported by The Sporting News9 to be the first League meeting held outside of New York). The Board of Directors, composed of Von der Ahe, Boston’s Arthur Soden, Cincinnati’s John Brush, Baltimore’s Harry Von der Horst, Washington’s Frank Elliott, and Chicago’s James Hart, met first.10 [The Clipper says that Nick Young was present at the meeting, but not that he was on the board of directors. See “The League-Association,” New York Clipper, November 26, 1892: 608.]

After formally awarding the 1892 pennant to Boston, the Board considered the financial situation. Reporting in his capacity as league secretary, Young confirmed that all but one club lost money, blaming increased salaries and the costs of the NL-AA consolidation; however, this was “nothing … to be alarmed at.”11

Whether the losses were alarming or not, they were having an effect as teams initiated preparations for the 1893 season. The schedule was likely to be reduced from 154 games and the start of the season pushed back until late April; preseason trips to Florida also seemed likely to be abandoned.12 One aspect of the 1892 schedule not likely to be repeated was the split schedule. Breaking “the division into two terms failed to awaken the expected interest.”13

Some players were not content to acquiesce to the League’s salary-cutting efforts. The case of Tom Burns is notable for its exposure of League methods to shed salary. Pittsburgh provided Burns with a three-year contract as player-manager, but fired him two months into the 1892 season. After his contract was discharged by Pittsburgh, Burns sued the club for damages and won a $1,500 verdict in January.14 Pittsburgh had charged that Burns oversaw a club rife with drinkers and gamblers (and Young even testified to this effect); in response, Burns claimed he was not aware of any club rule on these topics.

Pittsburgh President William Temple also claimed that he had been forced to take Burns in an apparent mistaken belief that Cap Anson would join him in the Steel City in 1893. A disappointed Temple asserted, “We did not want Burns without Anson. …”15 Burns won in the courtroom but lost on the field; he never played another major-league game.16

Players attempted to hold out against the salary reductions, but their intransigence generally failed to reverse the trend. Tony Mullane held out against Cincinnati’s efforts to cut his $4,000 salary but he eventually signed. Bid McPhee similarly refused Cincinnati’s terms, going so far as to claim he would never again play for the Reds.17 (He would.) Chicago outfielder Sam Dungan signed his contract in late January, which Hart believed was a first step in other players doing the same.

Hart announced that players must sign by February 1 or face fines for every day their contracts remain unsigned.18 Chicago’s battery of Bill Hutchinson and Malachi Kittridge accepted contracts for reduced salaries by Hart’s deadline.19 Several Cleveland players submitted their contracts in early February. Several more Chicago and Cleveland players did not sign for reduced money, with an apparent new deadline of March 1 placed upon the recalcitrant players. Brooklyn, New York, Boston, and Washington were also reported to be having troubles bringing their players to heel.

Philadelphia had no players under contract as late as February, but club secretary Will Shettsline reported that reduced terms would be submitted to Phillies players. Shettsline declared, “We do not intend to pay anything like the salaries we did last year.”20 Philadelphia even went so far as to offer players a profit-sharing plan, provided there was a substantial improvement in gate receipts from 1892.21 Jack Glasscock eventually accepted reduced terms from St. Louis, Fred Pfeffer returned to Louisville at a much lower salary, and Rusie eventually agreed to his pay cut from the Giants. Without a rival organization to spark a bidding war for talent, players fell in line with the new reality.

Rumors and discussions about realignment and consolidation

In the wake of a campaign with diminished attendance and profits, discussions about realignment and consolidation occurred during the offseason. There was some possible “buyer’s remorse” about the consolidation of the previous winter. During the League meeting in early October, some Eastern clubs suggested splitting the League into an eastern and western association of current League members. Others floated reverting to an eight-team circuit, but it is not clear where the so-called ironclad provision binding the clubs for 10 years fit into the discussion.

Brooklyn’s Charles Byrne provided a voice for optimism and maintaining the status quo, believing that 1893 would prove prosperous as the League recovered from the Brotherhood war.22 Von der Ahe also favored maintaining a 12-team alignment, blaming weather and consolidation debt for the League’s troubles, issues that would improve with time.23

With rumors of restructuring and consolidation, cities outside the League looked out for ways to reclaim major-league status. Kansas City sought such status either through League membership or through a revived American Association. Rumors about a resurrected Association or Players League persisted, but lacked the investors to turn such schemes to reality. Milwaukee hoped games from Chicago would be shifted to the north. When pressed for opinions on a single 12-team league or two eight-team leagues, sportswriters expressed preference for the latter as a growth measure for the game.24

For cities hoping to join the League, Louisville’s situation provided a possible opening. In what seemed to be an annual tradition, Louisville was on shaky financial footing and occupied a tenuous position within the League. By late January, while the Colonels hired the experienced Billy Barnie to manage the team, Louisville had yet to secure a home ground for the coming season.

New club President Fred Drexler sought to remedy that problem by placing a newspaper advertisement that he claimed generated 20 offers for sites.25 Further, reports out of Indianapolis suggested that Louisville was on a verge of disbanding and that John Brush would attempt to purchase a franchise for the Indiana capital.26 Milwaukee and Buffalo also jockeyed for position in the event Louisville’s place proved up for grabs.27

By mid-February, the situation stabilized. The club directors met on February 16 and pledged to furnish the money required (approximately $50,000) to finance club operations. The stockholders also agreed to put up more funds and voted to double the available shares.28 Around the same time, principal shareholder and vice president J. George Ruckstuhl reportedly purchased land near the old railroad stockyards for lease to the Colonels as a ballpark site.29

By the time of the League’s meeting in March, Ruckstuhl felt confident enough to assert that Louisville was in the League to stay. Despite that confidence, consolidation talk emerged as the meeting started. Boston favored shrinking to an eight-team league. One plan suggested that Louisville and either Cincinnati or St. Louis would be dropped in the West and Baltimore and Washington would be dumped in the East.30 Fortunately for League fans in those cities, only Boston had the necessary appetite for follow-through.

Despite Boston’s argument for consolidation and its owners’ (the so-called “triumvirs” of Arthur Soden, William Conant, and J.B. Billings) willingness to accept more of the burden to buy out certain clubs, interest in consolidation appeared to begin and end with Boston.31 Twelve teams it would be. On the eve of the season, Louisville’s place in the League remained open to question once again. Amid reports that Milwaukee interests were willing to pay $10,000 for the Colonels and still without a confirmed grounds, Ruckstuhl confirmed that his club was staying in the Falls City for 1893.32 After an uncertain offseason filled with stories of financial and structural retrenchment, the 1893 season witnessed the same 12 clubs as had contested the prior season.

Significant rules changes for the 1893 season

While the League considered options for dealing with financial issues, the November meeting was also momentous by setting in motion major rules changes for the 1893 season. In Chicago, the League evaluated several proposals that would alter the look and play of the game on the field. The proposed changes included lengthening the distance between the bases to 93 feet, positioning pitchers in the center of the diamond, abolishing the bunt, and calling the foul tip a strike.33 One Eastern owner stated about adding three feet to the basepaths, “We all seemed favorably impressed with the 93-foot base line, and it need not be surprising if it is adopted. The change would hardly be perceptible.”34 With the league-wide batting average bottoming out at .245, making it harder to reach base appeared counterproductive. The League appointed Brush, Von der Ahe, and Soden to the Playing Rules Committee, charged with providing a report during the spring meeting.

The interval between League meetings did nothing to dampen speculation or commentary about possible rules changes. Young felt compelled to respond to a rumor about possibly adding bases, declaring, “It is all poppycock to talk about changing the number of bases and the appearance of the diamond. … Base ball has reached a stage of perfection which no change in the diamond could possibly improve.”35

By mid-December, the rules committee contacted players and sportswriters for input. Cleveland’s Frank Robison expressed opposition to 93-foot baseline, providing a forerunner to today’s pace-of-play arguments. “If the games are drawn out much longer … the crowds will be impatient. Under the present arrangement patrons can get home just in time for dinner.” Sportswriters, whether or not concerned with dinner plans, also disapproved any plans to extend the diamond. While Byrne and Von der Horst seemed to favor the change, the 93-foot baseline appeared “practically dead.”36

While sentiment favored moving the pitcher farther from the plate, the actual distance remained an open question. Opinions varied about adding between 3 feet and 15 feet from the then-current 55½ feet. (Under the rules of the time, the distance was officially 50 feet, which measured the distance from the plate to the front of the pitcher’s box, and 55½ feet reflected the distance from the plate to the back line of the pitcher’s box.)37 Sportswriters believed moving the pitcher back would increase batting, thus favoring some change in this area.38 Player-managers Anson and Charles Comiskey reportedly favored preserving the status quo for the most part, with the exception of pushing for a balk rule that would increase and encourage base running.39

The Playing Rules Committee, by this time composed of Byrne, Von der Horst, and Brush, met in February in New York with the goal of hammering out proposals for formal League consideration in March. Over the course of several days, the committee agreed on a package of reforms. The report called for no enlargement of the infield, presumably ending talk of extending the baseline to 93 feet. The pitcher would be moved to the center of the infield, thus extending the distance from home plate to approximately 63 feet. The pitcher’s box would be abolished, to be replaced by a 12-inch “boundary plate” on which the pitcher must stand when delivering the ball.

This proposal generated confusion about what the pitcher could do, ensuring significant discussion in March. The committee recommended abolishing the flat bat, and there was to be a “lucid” definition of a balk. Rules related to the “actual playing of the game” were to be simplified, and rules pertaining to the duties and powers of umpires were to be codified. Finally, official scorers were to be instructed that players making a sacrifice hit that advanced a runner were not to be charged with an at-bat, a move that would boost batting averages.

Between the time of the committee adopting its report and the League annual meeting, opposition emerged to the proposals. Anson, Hart, Comiskey, John Montgomery Ward, and Pittsburgh manager Al Buckenberger were reported to be opposed to some degree.40 Byrne countered that the changes must be adopted or “baseball will be a dead letter.” He further discounted the thoughtfulness of the opposition, claiming that those against the changes “have not given the matter any attention whatsoever.”41

The League commenced its meeting in New York on March 7, and most of that day was spent considering the Playing Rules Committee report. The magnates invited newspaper reporters, players, managers, and umpires into their conclave to offer views on the proposed changes. “Heated discussion” ensued on the question of moving the pitcher back. Byrne emerged as the strongest voice for moving the pitcher to the center of the infield, as called for the committee’s report. Six clubs voted against the changes, with Boston, Chicago, Cleveland, Louisville, Pittsburgh, and St. Louis forming a bloc.42 When the suggestion was made to move the pitcher back only five feet, to 60 feet 6 inches, the changes passed with only Cleveland’s Robison opposed.

While the magnates compromised on the distance, they retained the committee’s proposal concerning the boundary plate. As written, the new rule (Rule No. 27) required that “[t]he pitcher shall take his position facing the batsman, with both feet square on the ground, one foot in front of and in contact with the plate. He shall not raise either foot unless in the act of delivering the ball, nor make more than one step in such delivery.”43

Other proposals from the committee report were adopted. Not only was the flat bat formally abolished, but new Rule No. 13 prescribed that “the bat must be made round and of hard wood and may have twine on the handle or granulated substance applied not to exceed 18 inches from the end. No bat shall exceed 42 inches in length.”44 The balk rule was clarified to state that motions to deceive a baserunner would be declared a balk but “[w]hen the pitcher feigns to throw the ball to a base”45 he must resume his former position before delivering the ball to the plate.46

On-field mingling among opposing players was prohibited, and specific requirements to provide home and visiting benches were adopted. Sacrifice hits would no longer result in hitters being charged with an at-bat, but there remained some questions about which sacrifices qualified for exemption under the new rule. There was no dispute that infield sacrifices fell within its the scope and intent. That is, the rule was intended partly to encourage teamwork, which was apparently evidenced by an infield sacrifice. An open question existed about whether outfield fly balls similarly expressed teamwork. Some argued that a batter hitting a fly ball intended to make a hit and better his personal batting record. Because the committee was not clear about which hits qualified for the exemption and which did not, this issue would remain an open one.

Efforts to strengthen the Giants

The size of New York’s financial losses became a subject of particular concern throughout the league. New York’s loss was the largest, and the League discussed the club’s situation at its November meeting. By December, the depths of New York’s despair became more apparent. The Sporting News reported that losses, in fact, exceeded $32,000, and $13,000 was still owed to the players.47 The club asked its shareholders to put more money into the club. To relieve the situation, New York announced intentions to put before shareholders on January 6 a plan to issue $50,000 in bonds.48 By the time of that meeting, half of the desired money had been raised.49

New York also appeared likely to raid across the East River to improve its situation. The Giants hoped to induce Ward to return from Brooklyn to the club for which he last played in 1889; the Grooms, however, were demanding a high price for their captain.50 To the added chagrin of Brooklyn, rumors circulated that Brooklyn’s Byrne would be persuaded to assume the presidency of the Giants.51 The club, bereft of leadership and hampered by a complicated ownership structure, failed to elect a president at its January 13 board meeting. While it appeared Day would retain the job he had held since the club’s inception, by early February New York City Postmaster Cornelius Van Cott seemed poised to accept the presidency of the Giants. The looming February 9 annual meeting appeared likely to be the most important in club history.

During the meeting, Day surrendered the presidency of the club to Van Cott. He retained his $25,000 investment in the club, but would play no active management role.52 Board member J.W. Spalding also stepped aside, part of an apparent deal whereby he and Day settled their differences by agreeing to mutual withdrawal from club management.53 In the course of the meeting, Ward, a Giants stockholder, declared himself. He announced his wish to play one more year, and that such year be played in New York or nowhere. His current club, however, remained intent on exacting maximum value for its asset.

Brush and Robison intervened to break the impasse and received credit for persuading Byrne to agree on transferring Ward.54 Indeed, the club secured Ward’s transfer and the player signed a contract to captain the Giants in 1893. New York initially announced Pat Powers would be retained as manager, but within days of this announcement, Powers was out and Ward received complete control to manage the club.

Managerial authority attained, Ward focused on obtaining the players he needed to improve the team. “I am confident that we can get a good team together and that the interest in this game will revive.”55 Reports had placed Danny Richardson, Roger Connor, and Mike Kelly on the Giants’ target list. Byrne objected where Richardson was concerned, claiming that Brooklyn was to receive Richardson per the terms of the agreement to release Ward to the Giants.56 Indeed, against the player’s own preference, Richardson eventually signed with Brooklyn from Washington on April 5. Meanwhile, Connor had yet to sign with the Phillies, rendering his status uncertain.

Several magnates openly viewed an improved New York as good for their businesses. As noted above, two owners played a role in brokering Ward’s move from Brooklyn to Manhattan. Soden, who also held stock in the Giants, believed his club was helped by a strong New York team. “When New-York is all right it helps everyone connected with the sport,” he said.57

Boston informed New York that Kelly might be made available to the Giants. Kelly was expected to play for New York with a slight bump on his prior salary with Boston, an apparent exception to the austerity trend in salaries.58

Cleveland’s Robison intervened again to reinforce the Giants. While he did not want to part with his own player-manager, Patsy Tebeau, Robison consented to exchanging his 22-year-old third baseman, George Davis, for the Giants’ 33-year-old Buck Ewing. For Robison, payback partly motivated the deal; New York helped him previously achieve an equal division of gate receipts.

While the trade annoyed local press and fans, Robison asserted Ewing was the better batsman and Cleveland would not suffer in the deal.59 In fact, both players performed well at the plate in 1893, but Davis would provide New York with a lineup mainstay for the remainder of the century. One of Boston’s triumvirs, Billings, stated that Cleveland deserved credit for agreeing to the swap; of course, it seemed possible the deal would also weaken Boston’s closest rival from the prior season.

By the time of the March annual meeting, advocating assistance for the Giants became a cause célèbre. The New York Times described the scene at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, noting, “They say that unless baseball booms in New-York it will be practically dead throughout the country.” 60 Louisville’s Ruckstuhl, dealing with existential issues related to his own club, proclaimed, “If I had my choice I would give New-York a team that would sweep the country. New-York is the pivotal point in baseball and she must be well provided for.”61

Shortly after the meeting, the Phillies traded Connor to New York for two players and cash. The Giants signed Kelly in May for what would be the final 20 games of his career. It was clear that the health of the Giants was of paramount importance throughout baseball. While advocacy and action to improve the Giants demonstrated an unusual concern for a competitor within a monopoly organization, the results were mixed. The 1893 Giants finished fifth, barely over .500 but three spots higher than 1892; attendance, meanwhile, more than doubled. The fans returned even though the pennant was not much closer than in the prior season.

Sunday baseball and scheduling

New York’s boost in attendance came despite the Giants’ continuing opposition to Sunday baseball. Despite the potential for increasing gates by hosting Sunday baseball, league-wide sentiment on Sunday baseball remained split. Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and Cleveland remained steadfast in opposition.62 The other seven were expected to play Sunday games, although Brooklyn would do so only away from home.

In one instance, however, the desire for Sunday baseball led to a club reorganization. Chicago, where Albert Spalding long opposed Sunday baseball, adopted plans to host Sunday baseball, partly motivated by the potential for increased gates from World’s Fair patrons. To do so, the club formally reorganized, effectively splitting into two legal entities overseeing the club. The previous legal entity became a land company, with Spalding as one of three sole owners. This “old club” acquired territory at Polk and Lincoln Streets in Chicago to be leased to the “new club,” the baseball club, for a 10-year term and upon which a new 12,000-seat ground would be built for $30,000.63 By creating the “new club,” Hart squeezed out those former shareholders, including Spalding, objecting to Sunday baseball. Hart fully expected the new board of directors to approve his plans for Sunday baseball.

The League appeared resolved to assist Chicago in having a successful season at the gate with the World’s Fair scheduled for the following summer. Reports suggested that the magnates adopted a resolution in November giving Chicago the power to change games scheduled for other grounds to the Windy City.64 While there was some question whether World’s Fair attendees would turn out for the local nine, the Colts wanted to maximize attendance. Anson signed four new players in December, as part of efforts to improve a team that finished seventh in 1892.

When the League adopted its 1893 schedule during its March meeting, the fixtures appeared drawn to favor Chicago. As expected, the League reduced the number of games from 154 to 132 and planned for an April 27 opening. Chicago received 70 home games (as opposed to 66), with three games taken from Baltimore and one from Louisville.65 Opponents considered drawing cards in Chicago were scheduled for weekdays and lesser teams would visit on weekends. Indeed, if Chicago believed the World’s Fair would help its attendance, the League provided the means for Chicago to carry out its plans.

Other League business

At the League annual meeting, Young, Soden, and Von der Horst were elected to serve as the new Board of Directors. (Young had received a multiyear contract to continue as League president during the previous year’s annual meeting.) Among the magnates, most of the focus was on members stepping away from active roles in club affairs. Day having surrendered the presidency of the Giants, the League unanimously adopted a resolution making him an honorary League member in recognition of his service to the game.

Albert Spalding had previously ceded active management of the Colts in deference to his other business interests, many of which were headquartered in New York. One evening during the March meeting, there occurred a reunion of the players who participated in Spalding’s 1888-1889 world tour. Attendees organized the Base Ball Globe Trotters Association and named Spalding its president.

Also, the League received a formal complaint from the Eastern League that National League clubs “gobbled up (its players) surreptitiously”66 in violation of the National Agreement. Consistent with the terms of the Agreement adopted in 1892, the EL clubs claimed that they paid $1,500 for the protection offered by the National Agreement and that it submitted a list of reserved players.

Despite claims by National League clubs that the EL disbanded in September, the EL was found to comply with the terms of the National Agreement. Affected NL clubs were ordered to return the players to EL clubs within 10 days unless satisfactory arrangements could be made. This action concerned 15 players, including six who signed with St. Louis.67 Perhaps the National Agreement would indeed provide the game with a stable governance structure to weather current challenges by holding accountable the most powerful member clubs.

Heading into the 1893 season, magnates hoped the changes would provide organizational and financial stability. Organizationally, the League emerged from the financial crisis with its structure intact. Financially, reductions in player salaries as well as rules changes to enhance offense were expected to improve the bottom line. The League structure survived (though the players might have asked at what cost), but it seemed baseball positioned itself to end 1893 in a better place than it ended 1892.

Sources

Alexander, Charles C. Turbulent Seasons: Baseball in 1890-1891 (Dallas: Southern Methodist University Press, 2011).

Nemec, David. The Beer and Whiskey League (Guilford, Connecticut: Lyons Press, 2004).

Nemec, David. The Great Encyclopedia of Nineteenth Century Major League Baseball, Second Edition (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2006).

Voigt, David Quentin. American Baseball, Volume I (University Park, Pennsylvania, and London: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1990).

Voigt, David Quentin. The League That Failed (Lanham, Maryland, and London: Scarecrow Press, Inc., 1998).

Notes

1 “The New York Club,” The Sporting News, November 5, 1892: 3; “Your Uncle Nick Talks Shop,” The Sporting News, November 5, 1892: 3.

2 “Your Uncle Nick.”

3 Sam, “Wagner Is Satisfied,” The Sporting News, November 26, 1892: 1.

4 Harold Seymour, Baseball: The Early Years (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989), 269.

5 Seymour, 268.

6 “Three Players Released,” New York Times, October 7, 1892: 3.

7 “Baseball Brevities,” New York Times, October 8, 1892: 3.

8 “Baseball Brevities,” New York Times, October 12, 1892: 3.

9 George Munson, “The League Annual,” The Sporting News, November 19, 1892: 1.

10 The New York Clipper says that Nick Young was present at the meeting, but not that he was on the board of directors. See “The League-Association,” New York Clipper, November 26, 1892: 608.

11 Munson.

12 “No Florida Trips,” The Sporting News, November 26, 1892: 1. In addition, Brooklyn canceled plans in February to go south for spring training, citing the expense. “President Byrne Talks About Ward’s Release,” The Sporting News, February 25, 1893: 1.

13 “The Prospects of Base Ball,” The Sporting News, December 3, 1892: 3.

14 “Burns Gets a Verdict,” New York Times, January 20, 1893: 3.

15 “Caught on the Fly,” The Sporting News, January 28, 1893: 3. Pennsylvania state law prevented Burns from receiving damages based on future services.

16 He did manage the ’98 and ’99 Chicago Orphans.

17 “Baseball Notes,” New York Times, January 31, 1893: 3.

18 “Baseball Notes,” New York Times, January 24, 1893: 3.

19 “Baseball Notes,” New York Times, January 31, 1893: 3.

20 “In the Quaker City,” The Sporting News, February 11, 1893: 3.

21 “Baseball Notes,” New York Times, March 6, 1893: 6.

22 “Baseball Men in Session,” New York Times, October 5, 1892: 3.

23 “Favors Twelve Clubs,” The Sporting News, November 5, 1892: 1.

24 “Base Ball Scribes,” The Sporting News, January 14, 1893: 2.

25 “Advertising for a Park,” The Sporting News, February 11, 1893: 1.

26 “Indianapolis to Succeed Louisville,” The Sporting News, January 28, 1893: 1.

27 Francis, “Milwaukee Watchful,” The Sporting News, February 4, 1893: 1; “Buffalo May Be in the League,” The Sporting News, February 4, 1893: 1.

28 “Lines from Louisville,” The Sporting News, February 18, 1893: 5.

29 “Caught on the Fly,” The Sporting News, February 18, 1893: 3.

30 “All Favor the New-Yorks,” New York Times, March 7, 1893: 3.

31 Gotham, “The National League Meeting,” The Sporting News, March 11, 1893: 4.

32 Francis, “They Want League Ball,” The Sporting News, April 22, 1893: 3.

33 “Discussing Baseball Changes,” New York Times, November 17, 1892: 3.

34 Munson.

35 “Wagner Is Satisfied.”

36 “The Committee on Rules,” The Sporting News, December 17, 1892: 2; [author illegible], “Notes From Cleveland,” The Sporting News, January 7, 1893; 4.

37 See Peter Morris, A Game of Inches: The Game on the Field (Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2006), 38. Also informative is John Thorn’s excellent post on the distance between the pitcher and home plate. See ourgame.mlblogs.com/2015/02/27/a-brief-history-of-the-pitching-distance/. This post certainly indicates there are nuances to calculating the distance between the pitcher and home plate, and asserting a specific distance depends on the place from which one is doing the measuring.

38 “Base Ball Scribes.”

39 O.P. Caylor, “Caylor’s Comment,” The Sporting News, January 14, 1893: 5.

40 “Pittsburg Paragraphs,” Sporting News, March 4, 1893: 4.

41 “All Favor the New-Yorks.”

42 “Discussing New Rules,” New York Times, March 8, 1893: 3.

43 “The National League Meeting.”

44 Ibid.

45 Ibid.

46 Ibid.; “The New Rules Adopted,” New York Times, March 9, 1893: 3.

47 “The Season’s Expenses,” The Sporting News, December 10, 1892: 3.

48 “Notes From New York,” The Sporting News, December 24, 1892: 3.

49 “New-York Ball Club’s Affairs,” New York Times, January 7, 1893: 3.

50 Henry Chadwick, “Ward of Brooklyn,” The Sporting News, January 28, 1893: 3.

51 “The Baseball Situation,” New York Times, January 12, 1893; 2.

52 “Mr. John B. Day Retires,” New York Times, February 10, 1893: 3.

53 Ibid.

54 “Back With His Old Nine,” New York Times, February 11, 1893: 6.

55 “Ward Signs With New York,” The Sporting News, February 18, 1893: 4.

56 “President Byrne Talks About Ward’s Release.”

57 “Baseball Notes,” New York Times, February 6, 1893: 6.

58 “The National League Meeting.”

59 Charles Mears, “The Secret Is Out,” The Sporting News, March 11, 1893: 3.

60 “All Favor the New-Yorks.”

61 Ibid.

62 “Caught on The Fly,” The Sporting News, December 24, 1892: 4.

63 Harry Leach, “Sunday Games at Chicago,” The Sporting News, December 24, 1892: 3.

64 “And May Play All at Home,” The Sporting News, December 3, 1892; 1.

65 “Plenty of Sunday Games,” The Sporting News, March 25, 1893: 2.

66 “The New Rules Adopted.”

67 “A Very Pretty Play,” The Sporting News, March 11, 1893: 1.

Although the Association was clearly affected by the events related to the players’ revolt and the coming upheaval, the main contenders were the League and the Brotherhood. The Association did itself no favors as it nearly tore itself apart for reasons unrelated to labor, but it entered the 1890 season with only two clubs in direct competition with the League and Brotherhood.

The League, on the other hand, fought the Brotherhood on every front: in going head-to-head in all but one city, in scheduling games to maximize direct conflict with Brotherhood games, in the fight for player signings, and in taking its defecting labor force to court. The 1889-1890 winter meetings witnessed the stage being set for a season of conflict.

Developments related to structure of both leagues during the 1889-1890 offseason

With a looming rupture between the Brotherhood and the established major leagues, there were questions about how the League and the Association would respond. The prospect of financial turmoil informed the response to some of those questions, and the structure of the two leagues and survival of its strongest clubs were two issues feeding into that. One proposed scheme included a 12-team league with “an immense guarantee fund which if the occasion demands will be used to wipe the Brotherhood clubs from the face of the earth.”1

Stalwarts of the two leagues, Chris Von der Ahe of the Association’s St. Louis club and Albert G. Spalding of the League’s Chicago club consulted about such plans.2 Von der Ahe viewed one league as inevitable and was resigned to fighting with the players, stating, “[I]f there is going to be a fight we might as well have it now and have it out.”3 Another consolidation plan would have resulted in a single eight-team combination with Brooklyn, Cincinnati, and St. Louis replacing Washington, Indianapolis, and Cleveland as League clubs.

As the two leagues prepared for their annual meetings in mid-November, intrigue centered on the possible defection from the Association of Brooklyn and Cincinnati. Cincinnati President Aaron Stern did little to dampen speculation when he commented that the Queen City “would, no doubt, make out well in the League.”4 An intraleague fight would turn speculation about Brooklyn and Cincinnati into reality. Before the Association meeting, Athletic, St. Louis, Kansas City, Columbus, and Louisville hatched a plan to make Kansas City’s L.C. Krauthoff the next Association president. The faction was seeking more favorable home dates as well as larger percentages of gate receipts.5 Brooklyn’s Charlie Byrne adamantly opposed the division of gate receipts sought by the five clubs. Krauthoff was willing to be their champion, but balked at demands to isolate Baltimore, Brooklyn, or Cincinnati from league committees. Kansas City then defected from the five, and joined Baltimore, Brooklyn, and Cincinnati in making Krauthoff their candidate for the presidency. Athletic, St. Louis, Columbus, and Louisville decided to nominate Louisville’s Zach Phelps. During the Association’s November 13 meeting, 23 ballots resulted in a 4-4 deadlock.

Frustrated, Brooklyn and Cincinnati now openly considered defection. It was believed that Byrne and Stern intended to apply to the League for membership, and “it was thought the request would be complied with instantly.”6 The Association reconvened on the morning of November 14, holding seven more presidential ballots with the same 4-4 result. The meeting descended into recrimination between St. Louis and Brooklyn, with each club accusing the other of wanting to run the Association for its own benefit. Von der Ahe accused Byrne of costing the Browns the 1889 pennant through methods including bribery and tampering, while Byrne thought Von der Ahe often sought to get his way through deception.7 Von der Ahe drew the League into the conflict, allegedly sending word that the Association would join with the Brotherhood in fighting the League if the League admitted Brooklyn and Cincinnati.8 Despite assertions that “[t]he League don’t like to be involved in any squabbles”9 and did not “relish the idea of weakening the Association,”10 the League met that day to consider the admission of Brooklyn and Cincinnati. By the end of evening, the League formally admitted the two clubs, an event that inspired a “love fest” and “the popping of champagne corks.”11

Although the League appeared stronger for its successful acquisition, the awkward 10-team lineup bedeviled the League until the spring. There existed some belief that Washington and Indianapolis would be dropped, thereby allowing the League to maintain an eight-club format. While Washington was “perfectly willing to withdraw,”12 Indianapolis’ John T. Brush was not. Brush claimed anyone seeking his franchise would have to meet his price, which he declined to name.

With Brooklyn and Cincinnati out, the Association finally elected Zach Phelps as its new president, secretary and treasurer. The Association’s defections did not stop, however. On November 15, Kansas City submitted its resignation and announced plans to join the Western Association. The Association had suitors to replace any defecting clubs, but the options were not as rewarding as the cities to be replaced. Syracuse applied for membership, and Detroit, Newark, Milwaukee, New Haven, Rochester, Toledo, and Toronto also made the list of possible replacements. Before adjourning their meeting, the remaining Association clubs appeared to select Syracuse for membership; however, Baltimore’s position in the Association now teetered. At this point, it was unclear whether Baltimore might attempt to jump to the League by purchasing the Washington franchise or join the minor-league Atlantic Association. President Harry Von der Horst saw little difference between minor-league and major-league status on attendance, believing fans would still come out to drink beer, dance, and picnic.13 Baltimore applied for League membership but was refused because the League did not wish to further weaken the Association.14

While the Association nearly tore itself apart, the League’s annual meeting proved tame by comparison. The League re-elected Nick Young unanimously as president, secretary, and treasurer. Finances and scheduling were the subject of a series of constitutional amendments it adopted. Visiting teams previously received 25 percent of gate receipts, but Cleveland, Indianapolis and Washington argued for doubling the allowance to 50 percent. Boston, Chicago, New York, and Philadelphia had in mind a figure closer to one-third. Pittsburgh and Washington brokered a compromise at 40 percent that was ultimately embedded in the constitution. Anticipating conflict with the Brotherhood, the League increased its guarantee fund from $25,000 to $250,000, requiring each club to post a $25,000 bond in the event of litigation from the Brotherhood’s financial backers. Also, in a change that later would impact the 1891 pennant, clubs wishing to make up postponed games by playing two games in a single day would be required to obtain the consent of two-thirds of all League clubs. Finally, each club would be required to wear a distinctive color uniform for the 1890 season, and Young was charged with selecting the colors for each club.

In late November, the Association appeared angling for its own deal with the Brotherhood. Players’ leader John Montgomery Ward “happened” to be in Columbus at the same time Von der Ahe, Phelps, and other Association officials met to discuss their remaining vacancies. Speculation centered on a 10-team league that would include the eight proposed Brotherhood clubs along with St. Louis and Columbus from the Association. Athletic would be merged into the Philadelphia Brotherhood club, and Baltimore and Louisville would be dropped. With December meetings looming for the Brotherhood and the Association, the Association was tasked with signing its players in advance of joining with the Brotherhood in common cause against the League.

Meanwhile, back in the League, the status of Washington became increasingly tenuous. Baltimore’s owners, who moved the club from the Association to the Atlantic Association on November 29, purchased a stake in the Nationals and planned to transfer the Orioles’ better players to the capital in anticipation of moving the League club to Baltimore.15 Additional rumors surfaced regarding the makeup of the League. With most Giants players headed for the Brotherhood’s Players League, one proposal would have seen Indianapolis players transferred to New York to ensure a strong team in the League’s marquee city.16 Cleveland was slated to provide a similar service for clubs in Boston, Chicago, and Philadelphia before joining the Hoosiers on the scrap heap.17

The Brotherhood prepared to meet in New York, beginning December 16, with expectations about a combination with Association clubs. Von der Ahe was in attendance, presumably to secure St. Louis’s spot in the AA/PL amalgamation. He reportedly “strode up and down the corridors … and seemed to think that the Brotherhood could not get along without his team.”18 Von der Ahe was even willing to acquiesce to his player-manager Charles Comiskey defecting to the PL’s Chicago club. By the conclusion of the Brotherhood meeting, however, it became apparent there would be no AA/PL amalgamation, leaving the Association to find a way forward and add to its roster of St. Louis, Athletic, Columbus, Louisville and (presumably) Syracuse.

In finding the additional clubs to field an eight-team league, Association focus returned to Toledo and Rochester. Meeting in Rochester on January 6, the Association formally admitted Syracuse on the application of George K. Frazier, who satisfied other owners that the Stars had the required performance bond. Rochester and Toledo were also admitted, bringing the Association up to seven teams. Billy Barnie wrote to the gathering that Baltimore, apparently rethinking the Atlantic Association, requested membership on the condition that the Association field a 12-team circuit. After discussion, the Association voted unanimously to field eight teams for the coming campaign and thus tabled Baltimore’s application. With the prospect of returning to Baltimore set aside, focus turned toward Brooklyn. Brooklyn interests submitted an application during the Rochester meeting. In a move motivated partly by a desire to preserve Brooklyn as an Association city, Brooklyn was admitted on January 9. Unlike the other new entrants being promoted from the minor leagues, the new Brooklyn team, the Ridgewoods, after their home ground, possessed no infrastructure, leading to the Association clubs pledging to contribute one to two players to assist efforts to field a competitive team.19

In the League, the “eight or 10” question lingered. Washington President Robert Hewett advocated an arrangement with his new investors in Baltimore similar to their original proposition: The better players would be assigned to a League entry and the lesser players would play for the Atlantic Association team.20 Speculation about Indianapolis persisted, but there existed some sentiment toward keeping President John Brush in the League for his “yeoman service in reclaiming players from the Brotherhood ranks.”21 Meeting in late January, the League received applications from Baltimore and Detroit, but “quietly let the matter drop.”22 Detroit’s Fred Stearns, however, claimed he could buy out Washington or Cleveland, if needed. By February 5, Hewett called off any possible Baltimore-Washington consolidation, leaving the League exactly where it had been since November. Nonetheless, the magnates continued to signal a preference for eight teams but seemed no closer to getting there.

Stearns was not through seeking League membership for Detroit. One plan suggested a Detroit-Cleveland combination that would split time in both cities.23 Another scheme suggested that Cleveland, Detroit, and New York purchase Indianapolis and Washington to facilitate an eight-team League.24 New York President John B. Day coveted the Indianapolis players, and suggested that Brush “must recognize that the good of the League demands” that Brush’s players be transferred his team.25 Motivating Day’s action was the concern that he would be outclassed completely by a rival Brotherhood club in New York.

With the season approaching, the League and Association headed into March meetings with several questions remaining about schedule and structure. The League held its spring meeting in Cleveland on March 4 and 5, and the delegates arrived “bent on business.”26 League delegates dismissed an offer received through Young to purchase the entire League for $1 million, some believing the offer to be a Brotherhood hoax. After it adopted a resolution confirming that 40 percent of gate receipts meant paying 20 cents on the turnstile count (but only 10 cents in Philadelphia) and approving a system to equalize travel expenses among the clubs, the meeting was dominated by talk about the League’s structure for the 1890 season.

The issue was playing havoc with attempts by the scheduling committee to devise a workable fixtures list. Sentiment still favored contraction to eight teams. It was believed that contracting Washington would require $20,000.27 Indianapolis reputedly possessed a strong team (despite its seventh-place finish in 1889), a reason Day coveted its players. Brush, however, was not prepared to go without a significant payoff, his price estimated at $75,000. He was equally unsympathetic to the dilemmas of structuring a 10-team League: “They ought to have thought of this trouble before they got themselves into it.”28 Brush and Hewett sensed they were targeted, and believed the proposed schedule had been drawn up deliberately to disadvantage their clubs.

They were not the only ones unhappy. The League, in fact, adopted a schedule before leaving Cleveland, but it “occupie[d] the singular and unprecedented position of pleasing nobody.”29 The number of games dropped from 140 to 126, with nine playing dates lost because of “awkward railroad jumps”; the financial toll of playing fewer games was estimated at $200,000.30

The dissatisfaction over the schedule and the difficulty of accommodating 10 teams led to a renewed push to contract. Reconvening in New York on March 22, the League agreed on terms of contraction with Indianapolis and Washington. The price was believed to be around $80,000, with most of that figure going to Brush and most of Brush’s figure paid by New York.31 Washington found refuge in the Atlantic Association. As for Indianapolis, nine Hoosiers signed with New York, including Jack Glasscock, Jerry Denny, young phenom Amos Rusie, and Henry Boyle; the rest were to be dispersed, with Pittsburgh having first choice of the leftovers.32

There was some thought that Brush might be waiting for another club to require bailing out during the coming season. With the roster of teams set, the scheduling committee received direction to create as many conflicts as possible with the PL schedule to send a message to Brotherhood financiers. The committee complied, releasing a schedule that had 58 such conflicts in New York and Boston and 62 in Brooklyn.

Compared to the League, the Association scheduling process was smooth. The scheduling committee agreed on a 140-game schedule, which was adopted during the Association’s March 14 meeting in Syracuse. During that meeting, the Association amended its constitution to increase the visiting team’s share of gate receipts from 20 percent to 40 percent, provide for equal shares on Memorial Day and Independence Day, and require a $100 guarantee to the visitors.33 In addition, the Association established a modest guarantee fund, with clubs to make $1,000 payments on May 1 and August 1.34

While the Association had restored its eight-team lineup with the admission of Brooklyn, it was not immune from machinations about its structure as the season approached. One rumored scheme included new members Syracuse, Rochester, and Toledo being dropped in favor of Detroit (leaving the International League), Washington, and Baltimore (the latter two leaving the Atlantic Association), and Indianapolis restoring its major-league status by purchasing Louisville.35 The scheme was widely denied, and time was lacking for its execution anyway. Sporting Life seemed favorably disposed toward the Association simply staying the course, “[I]t has nothing to do but attend strictly to its own business and devote its time and energies to building itself up, with a view to once more taking the commanding place in the baseball world to which its long and honorable history and its great achievements entitle it.”36

Capital vs. labor, and putting teams on the field

In addition to figuring out their lineups of clubs for the coming season, the League and Association also needed to make sure they had players on hand to stage the baseball games. The League in particular had no illusions that relations with the Brotherhood might descend into open conflict. One official commented in October that “[w]e anticipate trouble and for three weeks past have been preparing, as we will continue to prepare for a fight.”37

Some feigned indifference over the prospect of losing players to the Brotherhood. Despite his team’s second-place finish in the 1889, President Arthur Soden stated that next season Boston “will differ materially from the social organization which has masqueraded throughout the season. …”38 Another opined, “It may be a good thing for the League to get rid of all the dead wood it has been carrying for so long.”39

To replace that deadwood, League clubs, including Boston, held options for 25 to 30 minor-league replacements by mid-October and their agents were seeking more players.40 By late October, established players were not returning contracts to League clubs, as the vast majority allowed deadlines to pass without signing. In Chicago, Spalding’s longtime captain, Cap Anson, was the only one to sign for the White Stockings. At the League office, the only players returning contracts “are men who have yet to make reputation for themselves.”41 At this time, however, it was not certain whether players sought a complete break or a better deal. One player commented, “If our requests are complied with, then I suppose it will end the matter.”42

The Association seemed a bystander caught between the dueling antagonists. It was prepared to help the League, if needed, but intended to avoid direct conflict if possible. That loyalty was not necessarily returned. Rumors suggested that the League clubs intended to raid Association and minor-league clubs for replacement players. Following a meeting with Spalding on October 24, however, Von der Ahe declared himself for the League in the economic language of the day: “It is a question of capital against labor, and capital must stick by capital.” On the other side, Association labor seemed inclined to stick by labor. When it became clear in early November that Comiskey intended to leave Von der Ahe’s Browns to join the Brotherhood team in Chicago (whether or not Von der Ahe consented), it appeared other Association stars, including Arlie Latham, Silver King, Hub Collins, Harry Stovey, and Curt Welch, could be induced to jump.43

When the Brotherhood adjourned its November meeting without formalizing the structure of a new league, the League magnates hoped the threat had passed. Day boasted that it was “only a question of time before the majority of the Brotherhood men come to their senses.”44 Spalding scoffed, “The players expect to do in two months what it has taken us twelve years to accomplish. They cannot do it.”45

During the League annual meeting shortly after the Brotherhood meeting, Young claimed to have received contracts from seven Brotherhood players, whom he would not name.46 The Brotherhood, however, reportedly had 50 players signed.47 The threat had not passed after all. The decisive advantage for the Brotherhood began to cause tension among League ranks; “All are more or less worried.”48

It appeared the League would need to adopt stricter tactics to counter what was exploding into open revolt. The League adopted a resolution from Philadelphia’s John Rogers that it aid clubs in enforcing reservation rights for 1890, and Rogers, Byrne, and Day were appointed to a committee charged with formulating methods to do so. One method employed by Rogers, who was a lawyer, was to write to his players, question the validity of their Brotherhood contracts, and offer protection for any returning players. Phillies manager Harry Wright, considered a League loyalist despite his Brotherhood ties, and three of his players accepted Rogers’ offer and re-signed with the Phillies in November.49

The League decided to take its case directly to the public and charged a committee with developing a statement for wider consumption. The statement asserted that the League had been “assailed” and “impugned … by some of the very men who it has most benefited.”50 Casting the reserve clause as a source of growth in popularity and salaries, the Brotherhood purportedly recognized the value of the provision by agreeing to include it within player contracts in 1887.51 Further, the League rebutted claims that players were transferred against their will and claimed that Brotherhood contracts instilled a central tribunal with the power to do so.52 In conclusion, “[a]n edifice built on falsehood has no moral foundation and must perish of its own weight.”53

Ward and other Brotherhood leaders dismissed the statement in terms such as “brazenly false” and “characteristic effrontery.”54 Pitcher Tim Keefe declared the statement “a very shallow one,” while asserting that the Brotherhood would not recognize the reserve clause and would go after any player — League or Association — yet to sign a contract for 1890.55 In fact, Harry Stovey left Athletic for the Boston PL club. By mid-December, the Brotherhood advantage in player engagement relative to the League stood at 106 to 19. The League claimed few successes in retaining star players, as only Glasscock. Denny, and John Clarkson signed League contracts.56 Mike Tiernan followed, but the Giants had to offer a three-year contract to secure his return.57

Additional players began joining the League ranks. Tommy Tucker, formerly with Baltimore in the Association, broke his agreement to play for Ward’s Brooklyn club, to sign instead with the League’s Boston outfit. Pitcher Mickey Welch resigned his Brotherhood membership in order to rejoin the Giants, believing he would disadvantage himself by defecting.58 At his wife’s prodding, catcher Charlie Bennett re-signed with the League’s Boston club in mid-February. For his part, Young boasted of those players submitting applications to play with League clubs, finding them to be young and the “pick of the minor leagues.”59 During the League’s late January meeting in New York, Young reported that 300 men applied for spots with the League. While the Brotherhood could boast correctly of its success in signing most of the game’s top players, the League claimed to have 111 players under contract by mid-February. It remained to be seen whether quantity correlated to quality.

The League established its reserve lists for the season on March 28. To preserve their claims against the defecting Brotherhood players, the League lists included not just the new players signed for 1890 but also former players who jumped to the PL. The League clubs intended to preserve their claims to their players and ensure that no other National Agreement club (including Association clubs) could make a claim to their services should the PL fold. When the season began, PL rosters included 127 players; of those, 81 played for League clubs in 1889 and 26 played for Association clubs.60 League rosters had 140 players, but only 37 holdovers from 1889; the League also boasted 26 Association players, but almost all of these players came to the League with their Brooklyn and Cincinnati clubs.61 For its part, the Association retained 36 players from its 1889 rosters.62

Legal battles over the reserve clause and the legality of players’ contracts

In the background of the posturing over player signings existed the likelihood of litigation over the reserve clause and the player contracts. After the October deadline for returning contracts passed with few signees among the players, the magnates began to prepare for legal proceedings. Spalding made plans to sue his reserved players who refused to sign. “[W]hen the men signed our contracts last year, it was under the agreement that we had the right to reserve them for this year. Now, we wish to enforce the terms of that contract. …”63

Philadelphia’s Rogers made clear that the reserve clause would not be a future concession to the players, arguing that the players had agreed to the clause and the League would never abolish it.64 Blacklisting provided another tactic for taking on the players, but even the loyalist Anson found flaws in that approach. Anson stated that it “would not be fair to blacklist men looking after their own interests,” but cautioned that holding out “may result disadvantageously to them.”65

The League consulted with attorneys about the legality of the reserve clause. Day’s outside counsel, a noted corporate lawyer named Choate, opined that “[i]t was, of course, perfectly legal for the players to have bound themselves to the club by a contract for the season of 1889 and also for the season of 1890, and for further seasons if they so desired.”66 Section 18 of the standard player contract, it was noted, allowed clubs the right of reservation.

Choate rejected the argument that a player could sign with a club outside of the League, stating, “[I]f a player is reserved by a club under this contract for the season of 1890 his salary is due him from that club for that season, and it seems to us unwarranted to so interpret this contract that while the player could not play for any other club in the League, but could play for any club outside of the League.”67

In other words, the clause followed the player wherever he attempted to go. Potential remedies included injunctions, suits for damages against players, and suits for damages against outside parties inducing players to break their contracts. While the Brotherhood had not yet made its formal break at this time, the legal framework was developing for enjoining the players and suing their backers for damages.

By late November, as the number of signings broke decisively in favor of the Brotherhood, the League prepared for litigation. New York club officer Walter Appleton stated that the Giants would proceed “at once” against its defecting players and expressed confidence that courts would uphold the reserve clause. Philadelphia and Rogers appeared ready to do the same. The two clubs would prove to be the most aggressive in taking matters to court, and they consulted about which players would be the subjects of upcoming test cases.

As Brotherhood leader, Ward was an obvious target, and he was served with papers on December 23 from the Giants, which he “accepted … gracefully.”68 The parties were called before New York state court Judge O’Brien on January 9. The League position, expressed by counsel Mr. Beaman, was that baseball had to “adopt stringent means for self-protection,” including the reserve rule, which was incorporated into Ward’s personal contract with Day, thereby mandating the “court to compel [Ward] to live up to his agreement.”69

When Ward’s counsel, former Judge Howland, produced a “large number” of affidavits related to the National Agreement and baseball law, Beaman requested adjournment to allow for review. O’Brien granted one week. When the parties returned to O’Brien’s courtroom on January 16, Howland argued that Ward’s contract only bound him not to play for another League or National Agreement club; that is, the contract “could not affect his liberty to join a club not in existence at the time the contract was signed.”70 Giants counsel Choate posited that the question was whether players were subject to laws and bound by good faith and honesty. He said that if the reserve clause placed no obligation on Ward, why were the Giants required to pay him a salary?71

On January 28, O’Brien announced he would not grant an injunction to the Giants. Equity courts are loath to issue an injunction unless there is the “strongest probability” the plaintiff (here, the Giants) is entitled to relief.72 O’Brien opined, “I do not think it is entirely clear that Ward agrees to do anything further than to accord the right to reserve him upon terms thereafter to be fixed.”73 He added that the contract possessed a “want of fairness and of mutuality” as well as lacking certainty and definiteness, thereby lacking the necessarily qualities to allow for specific performance.74 The case would be set for a full trial, which O’Brien believed could occur before the start of the season.

Spalding threatened to join the litigation party in February, asserting that he would take his middle infield of Fred Pfeffer and Ned Williamson to court while also claiming indifference about player defections because of his confidence in young players.75 To this point, Spalding had adopted the pragmatic approach of a man with many business interests. In light of the advance money paid to players, which he estimated at $3,000 to $5,000 just to his players, he now wanted to know if the contracts at the root of those payments were legal.76 “Now if the contracts on which we pay such sums of money are not good in law we want to know it.”77 In the end, Spalding would refrain from litigating.

The Phillies’ bill for an injunction against shortstop Bill Hallman received a hearing in a Pennsylvania court in early March. Hallman’s lawyer argued that the Phillies had not presented any contract requiring the shortstop to render services in 1890. Rather, the most the Phillies could claim was an option to reserve Hallman on terms to be agreed. Moreover, equity courts in Pennsylvania generally refused to enforce personal-services contracts and would also not enforce contracts lacking mutuality, such as this “inequitous, unconscionable, damnable contract.”78 Rogers argued personally for the Phillies, claiming that baseball would not exist without contractual restrictions such as the reserve clause. Further, Rogers asserted that the Phillies were not seeking to force Hallman to play for them, but to prevent him from playing for another club.79

The judge announced his decision on March 15, refusing to grant the injunction against Hallman. Judge Thayer, examining the contract Hallman signed for the 1889 season, found “there is not a word in it binding Hallman to renew that contract for another season upon the same terms, or to sign for 1890 another contract which was to be in all respects the duplicate of that entered into for 1889.”80 Because the contract lacked such terms and conditions, “the contract of reservation [is] wholly uncertain and therefore incapable of enforcement. …”81 The fault rested with the Phillies “as the contract was drawn up entirely in their interests.”82 Thayer also took issue with the clause allowing Hallman to be “cast off” on 10 days’ notice.83 Accordingly, no court of equity would “lend itself to its enforcement.”84 For their troubles, the Phillies were also ordered to pay costs. A dejected Rogers stated, “This puts an end to all our cases against the players.”

The Giants saw their aggressive approach to litigation through to the bitter end. With the case against Ward waiting trial, they sued Buck Ewing in federal court on February 26. Back in state court, their lawyers pushed to get the Ward case on the trial calendar in March. While failing to see why this case should receive preference, Judge Lawrence set trial for March 24. Arguing again on behalf of Ward, Howland said of the contract during trial, “There is scarcely anything in the favor of the player. They bind him hand and foot.”85 Finding that there was nothing before him that was not before O’Brien, Lawrence stated, “I feel strongly inclined to follow his ruling.”86 He closed the hearing by taking the matter under consideration, but the day was a setback for the Giants. Lawrence officially dismissed the case a week later.

For the Giants, the news from federal court two days later was not any better. Judge Wallace considered the reserve clause to be a “coercive condition [in which the player] must contract with the club that has reserved him or face the probability of losing any engagement for the ensuing season. …”87 As a basis for an action for damages or specific performance, the contract was “wholly nugatory.” Wallace found that “[i]n a legal sense, it is merely a contract to make a contract if the parties can agree.”88 The League was now 0-for-3 against three different players in three different courts. The Giants held out the possibility of a conspiracy action against Ward and his Brotherhood backers, and the League as a whole intended to “make matters rather unpleasant for the men who are putting up the cash.”89 The courts, however, would not provide the League with a decisive preseason victory. Instead, the skirmishes between the League and Brotherhood would move to the field and the turnstiles on April 19. After an offseason of franchise machinations, internal conflict, campaigns for player loyalty, and contentious litigation, attention would turn to the games themselves and a season that carried over many of these offseason themes.

Sources

In addition to the sources cited in the Notes, the author also consulted:

Koszarek, Ed. The Players League (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc., 2006).

Nemec, David. The Beer and Whiskey League (Guilford, Connecticut: Lyons Press, 2004).

Nemec, David. The Great Encyclopedia of Nineteenth Century Major League Baseball, Second Edition (Tuscaloosa, Alabama: University of Alabama Press, 2006).

Seymour, Harold. Baseball: The Early Years (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989).

Voigt, David Quentin. The League That Failed (Latham, Maryland: Scarecrow Press, Inc., 1998).

Notes

1 “One Grand League,” The Sporting News, October 26, 1889: 1.

2 Ibid.

3 Ibid.

4 J.K.M., “In the Queen City,” The Sporting News, November 2, 1889: 4.

5 “A New Deal in Baseball,” New York Times, November 13, 1889: 3.

6 Ibid.

7 “A New Deal in Baseball”; “A Dead-Lock in Baseball,” New York Times, November 14, 1889: 3.

8 “A New Deal in Baseball.”

9 “In the League,” The Sporting News, November 16, 1889: 4.

10 “A New Deal in Baseball.”

11 “Two New League Clubs,” New York Times, November 15, 1889: 5.

12 “A New Deal in Baseball.”

13 David Quentin Voigt, American Baseball, Volume I (University Park, Pennsylvania and London: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 1990), 49.

14 “Bad for the Brotherhood,” New York Times, November 20, 1889: 3.

15 “Baseball News,” New York Times, December 1, 1889: 3.

16 “A New Baseball Deal,” New York Times, December 4, 1889: 2.

17 Ibid.

18 “The Ball Players Meet,” New York Times, December 17, 1889: 3.

19 “A New Brooklyn Club,” New York Times, January 10, 1890: 8.

20 “Hewitt’s Big Figure,” The Sporting News, January 25, 1890: 1.

21 “The League’s Plans,” The Sporting News, January 25, 1890: 1.

22 “The League Meeting,” The Sporting News, February 1, 1890: 8.

23 “The League,” Sporting Life, February 19, 1890: 2.

24 Ibid.

25 A.G. Ovens, “Excited Hoosiers,” Sporting Life, February 26, 1890: 2.

26 “The League Convention,” New York Times, March 4, 1890: 3.

27 “The League,” Sporting Life, March 12, 1890: 1.

28 Ibid.

29 “The Official League Schedule,” Sporting Life, March 19, 1890: 5.

30 Ibid.

31 “The League,” Sporting Life, April 2, 1890: 2.

32 “Two Clubs Dropped,” New York Times, March 23, 1890: 5.

33 “The Association Schedule,” New York Times, March 15, 1890: 3.

34 “The Association,” Sporting Life, March 26, 1890: 3.

35 “The Association,” Sporting Life, April 2, 1890: 1.

36 “The Association,” Sporting Life, March 12, 1890: 4.

37 “The League Will Fight,” New York Times, October 14, 1889: 2.

38 “The Boston Team of 1890,” The Sporting News, October 19, 1889: 2.

39 “The League Will Fight.”

40 “From the Windy City,” The Sporting News, October 19, 1889: 4.

41 “New Men for the League,” The Sporting News, October 26, 1889: 1.

42 “Baseball Matters,” New York Times, October 22, 1889: 3.

43 “New Brotherhood Men,” New York Times, November 8, 1889: 5.

44 “Ball Players Desert,” New York Times, November 10, 1889: 2.

45 “In the League,” The Sporting News, November 16, 1889: 4.

46 “A Dead-Lock in Baseball.”

47 “The Brotherhood,” The Sporting News, November 23, 1889: 3.

48 “Only Five Clubs Left,” New York Times, November 16, 1889: 6.

49 “Bad for the Brotherhood,” New York Times, November 20, 1889: 3.

50 “The League’s Address,” New York Times, November 22, 1889: 2.

51 Ibid.

52 Ibid.

53 Ibid.

54 “The Ball Players Respond,” New York Times, November 26, 1889: 9.

55 “The League’s Manifesto,” New York Times, November 23, 1889: 9.

56 “The Baseball Situation,” New York Times, December 12, 1889: 8.

57 “Tiernan Joins the Giants,” New York Times, December 22, 1889: 16.

58 “Welch to Join the Giants,” New York Times, January 14, 1890: 2.

59 “In the Baseball World,” New York Times, January 19, 1890: 16.

60 “In Battle Array,” Sporting Life, April 12, 1890: 9.

61 Ibid.

62 Charles C. Alexander, Turbulent Seasons: Baseball in 1890-1891 (Dallas: Southern Methodist University Press, 2011), 60.

63 “Brotherhood Plans,” New York Times, October 24, 1889: 3.

64 “Brotherhood Mutterings,” The Sporting News, October 26, 1889: 4.

65 “What Anson Says,” The Sporting News, November 2, 1889: 1.

66 “The Baseball Question,” New York Times, November 3, 1889: 13.

67 Ibid.

68 “Papers Served on Ward,” New York Times, December 24, 1889: 2.

69 “Shortstop Ward in Court,” New York Times, January 10, 1890: 8.

70 “Ward’s Test Case,” New York Times, January 17, 1890: 8.

71 Ibid.

72 “Ward Wins His Case,” The Sporting News, February 1, 1890: 1.

73 “Ward Wins His Fight,” New York Times, January 29, 1890: 2.

74 “Ward Wins His Fight”; “Ward Wins His Case.”

75 H.W.L., “In the Quaker City,” The Sporting News, February 15, 1890: 2.

76 “Spalding Wants To Know,” Sporting Life, February 19, 1890: 2.

77 Ibid.

78 “The Hallman Suit,” Sporting Life, March 12, 1890: 1.

79 Ibid.

80 “Law and Ball,” Sporting Life, March 26, 1890: 2.

81 Ibid.

82 “A Brotherhood Victory,” New York Times, March 16, 1890: 5.

83 Ibid.

84 Ibid.

85 “Beaten Again,” Sporting Life, April 2, 1890: 3.

86 Ibid.

87 Ibid.

88 Ibid.

89 “Only Eight Clubs,” New York Times, March 22, 1890: 2.

The 1897 Beaneaters opened spring training in Macon, Georgia, with optimism that may have been out of proportion to their 74-47 fourth-place finish, 17 games behind the champion Baltimore Orioles, a year earlier. The core of the team was familiar: Tommy Tucker, Bobby Lowe, Herman Long, and Jimmy Collins across the infield, Hugh Duffy and Billy Hamilton forming two-thirds of the outfield, and Kid Nichols leading the pitching staff. Fred Tenney, who had inherited the right-field job when Jimmy Bannon was released late in the 1896 season, prepared to assume that duty full time. Reliable Jack Stivetts and youngsters Fred Klobedanz and Ted Lewis appeared ready to support Nichols as needed on the mound.  

However high the Beaneaters’ hopes were, the schedule maker could not have created a more imposing start to the season. It began with a thoroughly disappointing April 19 Patriots Day home opener against Philadelphia marred by the club’s inability to touch Phillies ace Al Orth and by Nap Lajoie’s three-run eighth-inning home run that gave the visitors a 6-0 advantage. A desperate two-out ninth-inning rally produced two runs and loaded the bases for Tucker, who drove an Orth pitch high off the wall in the recesses of right field for a three-run double. The shot barely missed leaving the playing area for a game-tying grand slam; in fact, witnesses agreed it would have gone out had not Beaneaters management raised the fence by a few feet during the offseason. As it was, Tucker stopped at second and he died there when Orth retired Charles Ganzel on a game-ending infield grounder.

The opening road trip, a three-city, eight-game swing, began three days later in Baltimore, where that city celebrated its three-time defending champions on April 22 with a parade from the Eutaw House downtown to the ballpark, 2½ miles away. The city virtually closed for the occasion, an estimated 1,000 bankers and merchants opting to hail their heroes rather than work. While players were the main attractions, one of the attention-getting floats featured the 1894, 1895, and 1896 championship trophies as well as the 1896 Temple Cup, which the Orioles had won the previous October by beating the Cleveland Spiders.

Once at the park, the entire parade order was reassembled inside the gates for a march to the center-field flagpole, where the three pennants were unfurled and raised.

The Beaneaters, whose role through all of this was accoutremental, seized their chance to actually do something once play began. Halfway through the contest, they led 5-4. But Stivetts, the starting pitcher, complained to manager Frank Seleeabout a sore arm and the Orioles tore into Klobedanz, his replacement for the sixth. It was the kind of ethically questionable rally the Orioles had become famous for, beginning when Hughie Jennings leaned into a pitch that hit him. Umpire Tom Lynch ignored Beaneater protests that Jennings should have been denied his base for failure to make an effort to get out of the way, and moments later Jack Doyle drove a pitch over Hamilton’s head in center, producing three game-changing runs. The Orioles won, 10-5.

The series’ second game was more of the same. Nichols protected a 5-4 lead into the eighth inning when Willie Keelerslapped a single past Lowe. Jennings followed with a hit that sent Keeler to third, and when Jennings’ successful attempt to steal second drew Doc Yeager’s throw, Keeler trotted home with the tying run. A Collins error and two hits later, the Orioles led by their eventual winning score, 7-5.

In the third game, Joe Corbett – brother of former heavyweight champion James J. Corbett and a lightly used member of the Orioles 1896 staff – announced his presence for 1897 by stifling the Beaneaters’ bats, 7-1, to complete the series sweep. The Orioles’ most pleasant mound surprise, Corbett – who had made just six career starts to that point – would win 24 times for the Orioles in 37 appearances.

The train ride to Philadelphia provided Selee a chance to ponder a quick makeover. Tucker, showing the effects of age both at bat and at first base, was benched, to be succeeded by Tenney. (Tucker would be sold to Washington in June.) The latter’s place in right field was given over to rookie Chick Stahl. But the revised lineup managed just one win and two ties in the trip’s remaining five games in Philadelphia and Washington, outcomes made more depressing by Collins and Long errors undermining Lewis’s work in a 5-3 loss to the Senators. “Put that mob in cotton and ship them to Oshkosh,” a fan wired Selee of his 1-6 team.1  

Equilibrium

The Beaneaters could not have sensed it at that moment, but less than two weeks into the season they had already weathered their stormiest stretch of play. Yet the coming together was less an epiphany than a gradual process of talented players gradually rising to their level. They were .500 (9-9) after defeating Cleveland on May 15, and two days later launched a six-game winning streak, outlasting the Chicago White Stockings 7-6 in 10 innings. Their first visit to St. Louis for a series against the woeful Browns produced three wins, scoring 11 runs in each of the three games while the Browns scored a total of nine. On the Western swing that concluded on May 29, they had gone 12-5 and lifted themselves from eighth place to fourth, five games behind the Orioles.

Even better, the schedule called for the same Western teams the Beaneaters had just collectively dispatched to visit Boston during most of the month of June. “I fully believe the home team will pass all the teams higher up in the standings before long and be in position to fight Baltimore for the lead when that team arrives here late in the month (June 24-26),” predicted Tim Murnane, the best-known sports reporter of the era.2 He was right: The Beaneaters launched a 17-game winning streak. It began with a crushing 25-5 dispatch of the hapless Browns May 31 and a doubleheader sweep of the Browns the next day, this time by scores of 14-6 and 12-3. In six games against St. Louis over the previous 10 days, the Beaneaters had scored 84 runs, the Browns 23. The Spiders and Louisville Colonels were both dispatched twice, the Pirates, Reds and Cubs three times, and the Dodgers once. Between May 20 and June 25, the Beaneaters played 29 games, winning all but three by an average margin of five runs and scoring in double digits 16 times. Aside from Marty Bergen, every Beaneaters regular was hitting above .300, and Duffy was pushing .400. When the Giants swept a doubleheader from Baltimore on June 21, the streaking Beaneaters completed their ascent in the standings, jumping a half-game ahead of the Orioles. Coming off a 1-6 month of April, they had won 17 of 23 in May and 22 of 24 in June.

The momentum was undeniable, even to Selee. “I have managed three champion league teams for Boston,” he said, “but the team I have this year is stronger than any I ever managed before.”3

Turbulence

The Beaneaters’ 5-1 victory over Cincinnati on June 12, in the midst of the streak, provided a glimpse into one of those moments that makes 1890s baseball deliciously larcenous. In the sixth inning, with Nichols working on a 3-0 shutout, Tommy Corcoran stood at third and Jake Beckley at second when Claude Ritchey rolled a one-out grounder to Bobby Lowe. Corcoran scored and Beckley followed him around seconds later, only to be called out by umpire Tim Hurst for failing to touch third base even though Hurst’s attention had been focused on the play at first. Witnesses later said Beckley had actually cut the bag by 20 feet, trying to take advantage of the fact that Hurst could not see him. But Hurst knew it would have been impossible for Beckley to score as quickly as he did by legitimate means. “As I saw him coming I said to myself, ‘O, what a bluff, but I’ve got you this trip,’” Hurst said after the game.4

Seventeen-game winning streaks ought to go a long way to promoting team unity, but that was not always the case among the Beaneaters, and particularly as it involved Bergen. A troubled individual who would 2½ years later murder his wife and children, then kill himself, he was probably schizophrenic, although such a diagnosis did not exist in those days. Certainly he was prone to periodic fits of imagined wrongs at the hands of his teammates. During one of the June games against the White Stockings, he lashed out at teammates he imagined were talking disparagingly of him behind his back, leaving the team for several days and returning home. Yet as much as Bergen agitated Selee’s life needlessly, the Beaneaters manager needed his arm and field generalship behind the plate. When the Dodgers finally snapped Boston’s winning streak on June 22, they stole three bases in key situations off backup Charlie Ganzel. So it was with a mixture of trepidation and relief that his teammates welcomed Bergen back to the clubhouse before the start of the Orioles series, with the Beaneaters clinging to their half-game lead.

A local cigar company offered Boston players a free box of cigars in exchange for a hit in that opener, which pitted Nichols against Jerry Nops. The cigar tab went up drastically when fans stormed the South End Grounds, hundreds of them penned behind outfield ropes that shrunk the playing surface to something approaching youth league dimensions. “The game was a pure farce … (the field) not much larger than a tennis court,” the Baltimore Sun’s correspondent complained.5 Taking full advantage of the confines, Beaneaters batters pounded out 19 or 20 hits (accounts differ), five by Duffy alone, while Nichols held the Orioles relatively in check for a 12-5 win. “Next to winning a game of ball, the thing that pleases me the most is a quiet half hour with one of these cigars,” Duffy told a reporter afterward.6 The most disquieting moment for Beaneaters partisans was a foul tip that fractured one of Bergen’s fingers, sidelining him again, this time for physical reasons.

Baltimore led the next day’s game, 9-8, with two out in the ninth when Bill Hoffer, the starting pitcher, began to wobble. Collins rolled a single through an opening on the right side, then Hoffer walked Ganzel and Stahl, filling the bases. Tenney took two strikes and smacked a line drive into the gap between Keeler and Jake Stenzel in right-center, a game-winning hit that touched off the type of walk-off celebration that is common today, but which was rare in the 1890s. The crowd burst on the field, swept Tenney off his feet, and carried him to the grandstand to receive its tribute. He emerged literally bruised for the experience, and hobbled through the series’ final game, a 1-0 Oriole victory with Corbett bettering Nichols before a crowd estimated at 17,000. For the record, the park’s listed capacity was 6,800.

Birth of the Rooters

In the afterglow of the enthusiasm sweeping through the city emerged an entity unique for its time, an organized fan club. The Royal Rooters were a semi-organized collection of fans that coalesced in June and July to celebrate and revel in the achievements of their Beaneaters. It was, by the standards of baseball fandom, a noteworthy assemblage, featuring – among others – Congressman John “Honey Fitz” Fitzgerald, the future grandfather of President John F. Kennedy. As a group, the Rooters divided their time between two sites. The first was South End Grounds itself, where they established a more or less permanent presence in the seats adjacent to the Boston bench. The second was 3rd Base, a tavern owned by Rooter Michael “Nuf Ced” McGreevy,7 whose nickname derived from his habit of ending all baseball-related disputes with the declaration “Nuf Ced.” McGreevy outfitted his business with décor designed to celebrate the group’s heroes, including dozens of photos as well as chandeliers made of old Beaneater bats.

Having seized first place just prior to the Baltimore series, the Beaneaters spent the next several weeks methodically fortifying their advantage. After the series-ending 1-0 loss to Corbett, they reeled off eight more wins in succession, leading by 5½ games. It was all too efficient to be maintained; in Chicago the Beaneaters lost three straight one-run decisions, touching off a 2-6 stretch that reduced their advantage over the Oriole to 2½ games. Among those losses was a contentious one in Pittsburgh whose resolution illustrated several of the rough-and-tumble idiosyncrasies of 1890s baseball.

The Pirates, who had chosen to bat first, led by the eventual final score of 5-4 when Lowe drew a one-out base on balls and Bergen followed with a single in the bottom of the ninth. The afternoon had been rife with vulgar bench jockeying involving exchanges between Duffy, Pittsburgh pitcher Frank Killen, and fans. There were two out with Lowe at third and Bob Allen at second when Hamilton slipped a slow bounder toward second baseman Dick Padden and sped off toward first. Observers agreed that Hamilton arrived at the base simultaneously with Padden’s throw to first baseman Denny Lyons; in fact, the throw pulled Lyons into Hamilton’s path and the collision sent both players sprawling. Lowe, of course, crossed home plate easily and Allen, with no reason to stop running, also touched home before Lyons could recover his equilibrium. But did either of the runs count, or had Hamilton been retired at first, ending the game? Initially, umpire Bob Emslie made no clear signal, bringing both teams onto the field to celebrate their victory. Finally, Emslie signaled that Hamilton had been out at first, neither run counted, and Pittsburgh had won.

The pennant fight

The Beaneaters lead was three games when the Orioles made their final trip into Boston for the start of a three-game series on August 5. Aside from the decisive final-week series in Baltimore, these contests may have been the most contentious and most closely watched in baseball history to that point. It caught the attention of much of the sporting nation, which viewed it in terms that touched a national sense of right and wrong. There was not much question which side the three-time defending champions represented. Known for their cutthroat, brawling, and often under-handed methods of play, the Orioles had made enemies almost everywhere they played. The Beaneaters were no saints, but compared with their foes they inherited that image by default and wore it proudly. An editorial in the Pittsburgh Dispatch summed up the mood. “The most important point … is the superiority of the Bostons over the Baltimores as gentlemen. The latter have degenerated into a set of rowdies who resort to the smallest and dirtiest tricks ever seen on the ball field. How different it is with the Boston team.”8

League President Nick Young decided the games were of such importance that he should assign two umpires, not just one, to work them. The league’s senior umpire, Thomas Lynch, was an obvious choice, and Lynch’s second pick was Tommy Connolly, a future Hall of Famer at the time working in a regional minor league. Young was stunned, however, when Connolly declined the offer to work such highly visible major-league games, citing prior commitments to his minor league. The real reason for Connolly’s hesitation was the fetid atmosphere surrounding the games. He did not want to be a part of the antics he thought likely to ensue.

Whatever one thinks of Connolly’s action, his instincts proved solid. During the first few innings of the opening game, Beaneaters players and fans continuously berated Lynch for what they saw as his failure to prevent Orioles starter Joe Corbett from cheating forward off the pitching rubber. When Lynch finally did issue a warning, Doyle, Jennings, and John McGraw took up Corbett’s cause. The game was Baltimore’s pretty much from the start, the Orioles pushing four first-inning runs across against Nichols and coasting from there.

Baltimore again seized an early lead in the series’ second game, but this time the Beaneaters rallied … and that rally set off a chain of events that rocked the baseball world. In the top of the eighth inning, Lowe drove a triple over Stenzel’s head to the wall in center and Bergen rifled a single to right, giving Boston a 6-5 lead. In the bottom of the inning, Doyle, whose nickname of Dirty Jack betrayed his reputation as the Orioles’ most tempestuous player, popped an easy foul to Bergen, then unleashed a string of epithets toward Lynch. When the Orioles took the field for the top of the ninth, Doyle repeated his verbal assault and Lynch ejected him. Now teammates joined Doyle in surrounding Lynch, each of them verbally assaulting the umpire, and Lynch returning insult for insult. It’s not clear who threw the first actual punch, but Doyle punched Lynch in the eye, blackening it, and Lynch sent Doyle sprawling with a full left to the player’s neck. Kelley and Corbett raced to separate the combatants, and their presence brought fans streaming from the stands onto the field. “The cry was to mob the Baltimore players and it doubtless would have been done” had not Boston players and police jumped in to calm the fans. It took 10 minutes before the scene could be cleared sufficiently for play to resume.9  

Compared with what had preceded, the game’s conclusion was uneventful. All it featured was some bottles thrown Kelley’s way, blatant interference and a disputed game-saving play. McGraw had reached second on Long’s one-out error, slightly wrenching his knee when he bowled over Tenney, who was blocking his way around first base. The injured McGraw left, replaced by the slower Joe Quinn. With two out, Jennings singled cleanly to Duffy in left and he fired home in time, Lynch said, to retire Quinn. “That Quinn was clearly safe was frankly admitted by some of the Boston writers,” the Baltimore Sun’s correspondent declared the following morning. Hanlon virtually accused Lynch of throwing the game, calling the umpire “at heart a Boston man and I know it.” He added that he knew “pretty well when a man makes an honest mistake.”10

Boston partisans told a far different story: The abusive Orioles were reaping their just rewards. “Numbers will be found who will excuse anybody for acting as Lynch did under … such provocation,” argued the Boston Journal’s J.C. Morse.11

Lynch notified Young that he would remain in his hotel room to nurse his injuries rather than umpire the Saturday game, forcing the league president to scramble for a replacement. Given the short notice, the best Young could find was Bill Carpenter, a rookie he had hired only a few weeks earlier. Boston city officials took it upon themselves to provide backup, assigning two members of the city’s police department to duty on the field, and 40 more to the grandstands. The officers were needed. In the first, Keeler loudly protested Carpenter’s ruling that he had been picked off first, and Carpenter promptly summoned the officers to restrain the player. Lewis did the rest, limiting the Orioles to five hits in a 4-2 Boston victory.

Road trip

The Beaneaters bade farewell to the Orioles in front by three games, a margin the Orioles reduced to a half-game over the ensuing several weeks. More significantly, the National League race had functionally been reduced to two combatants, with the third-place Giants 5½ games further back. Then, like twin comets streaking across the late-summer sky, they jointly spent the next month distancing themselves from the terrestrial portion of the league while never losing touch with one another. Between August 28 and September 22, the Beaneaters won 17 of their 21 decisions, the Orioles won 18 of 24, and neither team managed to open up a lead over the other that was larger than 10 percentage points. 

The closeness of the race, overlaid by the ethical patina attached at that time to any challenge to the supremacy of the hated Orioles, ensured a steady buildup of interest, nationally as well as regionally, as a final-week series approached in Baltimore for September 24-27. Nowhere was this buildup more noticeable than in and around McGreevy’s 3rd Base Saloon, where the Royal Rooters conceived the idea of something unprecedented in sports at the time: A large-scale fan invasion of the other team’s home turf. At a cost of $25 apiece, more than 125 Rooters purchased a package that included steamship and rail travel, overnight accommodations, plus grandstand tickets to all three of the games. In Baltimore, fans lined up in rainy weather across several city blocks to get the tickets, and scammers hired women to pose as pregnant in order to be moved to the front of the line.

Ensconced at the Eutaw House the evening before the first game, the Beaneaters did something unexpected: They socialized with the Orioles. Proprietors of Ford’s Theater presented players on both sides with complimentary tickets to that evening’s presentation of A Man From Mexico, and the players who had fought so bitterly as recently as early August freely intermingled while enjoying the performance.

For Selee, there was but one problem: Bergen was not in town. The unreliable catcher had disappeared while the team passed through New York City on September 23, and his whereabouts was temporarily unknown. The matter resolved itself the morning of September 24, when Bergen showed up and blamed Selee for his absence. Several weeks earlier, the manager had scheduled an exhibition game against a local team in Jersey City for September 23 as a means of picking up a few extra dollars … a common activity at the time. As the importance of the Baltimore series grew, Selee canceled the exhibition … but nobody told Bergen, who that afternoon had been surprised to find himself the only person at the field.

Rooters who were unable to make the trip gathered Friday morning at the Music Hall, or in front of Boston’s several newspaper offices, to watch re-creations of the play-by-play. At the Union Street Grounds, the old wooden ballpark groaned beneath the weight of the estimated 13,000 who paid for entry, many standing in roped areas in the outfield. Thousands more perched atop the fence, or on rooftops across the streets, to peer in. The Royal Rooters huddled en masse behind the Boston bench, waving banners and raising what Orioles partisans described as an “unearthly din.”

The series on the field

Both managers sent their aces, Nichols (29-12) and Corbett (24-6), to the mound. The home team struck first, McGraw opening the game with a walk, stealing second, and scoring on Jennings’ single. Joe Kelley’s double between Duffy and Hamilton plated Jennings with a second run.

Through three innings Corbett was perfect. In the fourth, however, Doyle’s error allowed Tenney to score his team’s first run. In the fifth Long singled and Bergen doubled, tying the game. Lowe’s two-out hit a few moments later gave Boston its first lead, 3-2.

The Orioles repeatedly fell back on their “inside baseball” tactics, only to see the Beaneaters’ skill or their own errors of execution undermine them. In the third Collins raced in to field Keeler’s bunt attempt and threw him out. In the fourth, Stenzel was thrown out by Collins trying to score. Doyle attempted to steal second, only to have Bergen throw him out. Again in the fifth, McGraw tried to bunt but popped up to Nichols. In the sixth Bergen threw out Keeler attempting to steal second. It marked the fifth time that an Oriole had been retired on the bases.

Corbett’s errors helped the visitors break the game open in the seventh. With Nichols on first, he threw Hamilton’s easy grounder past Doyle into short right, allowing the runners to take second and third. Then he wild-pitched Nichols across. Tenney’s bunt single made the score 5-2. The Beaneaters added a sixth run in the eighth on Long’s double with Duffy at second.

A contributor for his offense, Long would soon become a hero for his defense. In the bottom of the inning, two walks and an infield hit filled the bases for Stenzel, who rocketed a shot toward left. Long leaped and snared the ball, ending the inning. “It was one of the greatest catches ever seen on the ballground,” asserted the Boston Globe’s Tim Murnane.12The Rooters rewarded Long in the most meaningful way possible, by showering him with silver coins in such volume that his teammates had to help the player collect them.

It was Long’s richest moment, but hardly his last. The Orioles mounted a ninth-inning rally that produced two runs and found runners at first and second with just one out for Keeler. He punched a line drive past the pitcher, but Long intercepted it and tossed to Lowe at second, doubling off Wilbert Robinson, the Orioles captain and lead runner, for a game-ending double play.

That evening at the Eutaw House, Selee held an impromptu press conference for the Rooters, at which he essentially guaranteed them the pennant. Congressman Fitzgerald, in a celebratory mood, hired a band, which played well into the night, ensuring that the inn’s guests – mostly the Boston players and delegation – would get little if any sleep. This was a particular concern for Collins, who had taken a foul ball off his face, swelling an eye shut. To address that concern, the Beaneaters applied the standard remedy of the day to Collins’s face: leeches.

The bleary-eyed players and fans awoke the next morning in time to pose for a group photo outside the hotel, then departed for the ballpark, where Klobedanz prepared to battle Bill Hoffer. The crowd was, if anything, even larger, and this time the home faithful were rewarded. In the first inning Keeler beat out a disputed infield hit and Kelley’s double scored him. In the second Collins botched McGraw’s bunt with runners at second and third, permitting both runs to come across. The Orioles led, 3-0. Boston rallied in the seventh, scoring two runs with Hamilton at third and Lowe at first after two were out. Lowe chose that moment to turn Baltimore’s gambling style of ball against the Orioles, breaking for second in the hope of drawing a throw that would enable Hamilton to score. He drew Robinson’s throw, all right, but Hamilton failed to break, prompting Lowe to retreat. When Jennings fired back to Doyle, Hamilton finally took off for home, but Doyle’s throw beat him for the third out.

The home team put the game out of reach moments later. Keeler singled, Jennings doubled, and Kelley drove them both across. The 6-3 final moved Baltimore back within a half-game of the Beaneaters. The result seemed to put the home fans in a mood the Royal Rooters described as puzzlingly friendly. “Someone yelled, “Three cheers for the Boston Rooters” and that’s what they were given … several times over. “We expected to be obnoxious to the crowd here,” one Rooter lamented of the cheerful reception.13

Sunday baseball being illegal in Maryland, many of the Rooters enjoyed a side trip to the nation’s capital. Collins, Tenney, and a few other players dined that evening at Baltimore’s Diamond Café, whose proprietors were McGraw and Robinson.

It did not take long on Monday morning for Baltimore team and city officials to realize that the decisive game was an event beyond their control. Orioles owner Harry von der Horst tried to shore up his undermanned staff of ticket-takers by joining them at the turnstiles, only to see those same turnstiles literally uprooted by late morning. Outside the ballpark, speculators commanded six to ten times the face value for tickets. The trolley line required 10 minutes to traverse the few patron-thick blocks in front of the ballpark. The ropes that had been strung across the outfield to handle the first two days’ overflows were now extended, virtually eliminating foul territory beyond the bases and shrinking the playing surface substantially. By the time players arrived for warm-ups, estimates put the throng inside the gates at 20,000. Then, quickly, the crowd burst through the left-field gate itself, creating a gap through which hundreds more poured freely. By game time an estimated 30,000 were on hand, with thousands more clinging from telegraph poles or atop nearby rooftops. Although the precise number in attendance remains impossible to determine, it was almost certainly the largest crowd to watch a team sporting event in America to that date.  

The outcome may have turned in the first inning when Chick Stahl’s line drive caromed off Corbett’s pitching hand, jamming several fingers and forcing him from the game. Boston took full advantage, scoring eight times by the end of the fourth inning. For Baltimore fans, the only saving grace was that the visitors and Nichols particularly were also off their game, Boston holding only an 8-5 lead entering the seventh.

That’s when the issue turned permanently. Hoffer, worn down by the combination of his Saturday effort plus his relief work to that moment, allowed consecutive hits to Duffy, Collins, Long, Bergen, Nichols, and Hamilton, two of them reaching the overflow crowd on the field for doubles. By the time Robinson cut down Long attempting to steal for the third out, the Beaneaters had touched the frazzled Orioles for nine runs on 11 hits. A half-hour later, the Royal Rooters celebrated a 19-10 Beaneaters victory.

The outcome left Boston 1½ games ahead of Baltimore and all but clinched the pennant, which was formalized three days later when they beat the Dodgers, 12-3, while Washington defeated the Orioles, 9-3. The Orioles and Beaneaters met a week later in the Temple Cup series, Baltimore gaining whatever consolation there was to be derived from their four-games-to-one victory. To the Beaneaters, the Royal Rooters, and also to the broader baseball world, that outcome was anticlimactic. What mattered was that Boston had ended the roughians’ three-year siege of the National League pennant and restored the franchise to its place at the forefront of the baseball world.

Sources

In addition to the sources cited in the Notes, the author relied heavily on his book A Game of Brawl: The Orioles, the Beaneaters, and the Battle for the 1897 Pennant (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2007).

Notes

1 T.H. Murnane, “Can’t Tell Why,” Boston Globe, April 30, 1897: 4.

2 T.H. Murnane, “Welcome the Team Today,” Boston Globe, May 31, 1897: 4.

3 Ibid.

4 T.H. Murnane, “Path to Pennant,” Boston Globe, June 14, 1897: 3.

5 “Orioles Were Too Easy,” Baltimore Sun, June 25, 1897: 6.

6 “Boston Wins,” Boston Globe, June 26, 1897: 7.

7 In records, the name is variously spelled as McGreevey; he spelled it both ways.

8 As printed in “Unjust Criticism,” Baltimore American, July 27, 1897. The American said the Dispatch article was “as unjust as it is uncalled for, and so far as the Baltimore club is concerned is not true.”   

9 “Fight on the Diamond,” Baltimore Sun, August 7, 1897: 6.

10 Ibid.

11 “Hub Happenings,” Sporting Life, August 14, 1897: 9.

12 “They’re in the Lead,” Boston Globe, September 25, 1897: 1.

13 ‘Pennant Hopes,” Boston Herald, September 27, 1897: 1.