# America's National Game/Chapter 21

CHAPTER XXI.
1900-01
SOME years before the opening of the 20th century the National League had begun to lose prestige with the public. This loss of caste was not due to a failure on the part of the League to correct abuses. It had achieved wonders in that respect. It had absolutely driven out gambling and gamblers. It had made players to so regard their interests that not one of them cared or dared to be seen talking with a gambler. Indeed, at one time this dread became so great that players would and did personally assault members of the crooked fraternity who attempted to engage them in conversation on the streets. It had done away with the drinking evil—so fully as the appetites of men can ever be controlled by discipline—and at one time a dozen capable players had been expelled, without hope of reinstatement, for overindulgence in liquor. The trouble now was not with gamblers or with players, but with club officials, generally termed magnates, and it will be readily understood how difficult a matter it was to deal with them. Especially was it hard to reach cases where there was no actual violation of Base Ball law—just personal cussedness and disregard for the future welfare of the game,
​Soon after the American sport became established as a national pastime, and was showing for its promoters a balance on the right side of the ledger, a certain clique came into the League for purposes of pelf. They at once let it be known by their acts that they were in Base Ball for what they could get out of it. They were absolutely devoid of sentiment, cared nothing for the integrity or perpetuity of the game beyond the limits of their individual control thereof. With these men it was simply a mercenary question of dollars and cents. Everything must yield to the one consideration of inordinate greed. It will not be difficult to understand that any man who dominated such a faction as has here been described, while he might have a pleasing personality, would nevertheless be a standing menace to the perpetuity of the game.
I do not know how better to characterize the monstrous evil which at this time threatened the life of Base Ball than to denominate it "Freedmanism"; for Andrew Freedman, owner of the New York franchise, absolutely held sway over one-half the League interests and was the incarnation of selfishness supreme. Surrounding himself by a coterie of men willing to follow such a leader; dictating policies that were suicidal as to the League of which these men were an important integral part, it is no wonder that this destructive element in those years worked havoc to our national pastime.
The special phase of aggressive onslaught against League interests that called me from an unofficial position, as simply an honorary member, into an active struggle to protect the game from enemies in its own household, was ​Mr. Freedman's move to syndicate Base Ball. But, prior to this time, Freedman's personal course had become so obnoxious to most of those connected with the game that nobody outside his own following could endure his eccentricities of speech or action. He would apply to other members of the League, in ordinary conversation, terms so coarse and offensive as to be unprintable. Taking umbrage at some personal newspaper criticism, he would openly declare his intention of ruining the game. My brother, Mr. J. Walter Spalding, who was a Director of the New York Club (owned by Freedman), was compelled to resign in order to retain his self-respect. Even those who were associated with Freedman in the enterprise which called me into the struggle complained to me of his ungentlemanly bearing whenever he met with opposition from any source, while those opposed to him and to his methods pleaded with me to re-enter the field, urging that my presence was needed to force this undesirable magnate from the ranks.
The following, from the columns of a New York paper at about this time, will serve to show the peculiar personal quality of the man:
"After remaining away from the Polo Grounds since the Fourth of July, when he had a row with ex-Umpire Heydler, Andrew Freedman, President of the New York Base Ball Club, visited the field on July 2Sth, with the result that there was another muss which disgusted 3,000 spectators. This time it was not the umpire against whom Freedman made his attack, but one of the Baltimore players, 'Ducky' Holmes, who was a member of the New York team last year. The score was 1 to 1 when the first half of the fourth inning began and the teams were playing sharp ball. With one out and McGann on first, Holmes went to the bat and struck out. He was in the act of walking back to the bench when a man in the grandstand cried out: 'Holmes, you're a lobster. That's what you left ​here for.' Holmes retorted. Umpire Lynch noticed that Holmes was talking to the crowd, and ordered him to keep quiet. The player promptly obeyed. Then Clarke, of the Baltimores, made a hit and, when Nops struck out, the visitors took the field. As they did so, Freedman hurried from his private box in the grandstand down onto the field, and almost ran to the bench where Joyce and the New Yorks were making preparations to go to the bat. Umpire Lynch saw Freedman and went over to him, at the same time asking what was the trouble. 'Lynch, I want that man Holmes thrown out of these grounds,' exclaimed Freedman, white with rage. 'He's insulted me.' Lynch claimed he did not hear the alleged insult and refused to remove Holmes. Freedman, still in a rage, secured the services of a detective and a policeman, whom he ordered to eject Holmes. Umpire Lynch called, 'Play Ball,' but Freedman declared that the game could not go on if Holmes were left in the game, and then Lynch gave the game to Baltimore by a score of 9 to 0. The crowd cheered the decision, and then a large contingent surged around Freedman, demanding the return of their money and yelling at him at the top of their voices, calling him a cheat and threatening him with bodily harm if he did not return their money. Freedman was at first disposed to refuse; but the threatening attitude of the crowd finally forced him to submit. As he moved away he was hissed by over a thousand people. One man yelled, 'You ought to be expelled from the League. You're killing Base Ball in New York deader than a herring.' This sally was received with marks of approval and more hissing. Holmes was escorted off the grounds, but was not arrested."
Another of many contemptible acts of ineffable meanness on the part of Freedman was his treatment of Mr. Henry Chadwick. In the course of his duties as sporting editor and writer on sporting topics, Mr. Chadwick took occasion to point out certain flagrant abuses in the management of the New York Club, whereupon Freedman wrote a letter to Chadwick, accusing him of ingratitude in criticising the New York Club while he was a recipient of its "bounty." It seems that the League had voted Mr. Chadwick a life annuity of $600 for what he had done for the game, and Freedman was not above assuming credit for the fact and berating the good old ​gentleman as a pauper. With fine spirit, Mr. Chadwick published Freedman's letter, in which he declared that if other League managers were of Freedman's mind he would not accept another penny. To the credit of the gentlemen be it said that every one wrote, disclaiming any sympathy with Freedman's view of the case.
In August, 1901, a secret meeting was held at the home of Andrew Freedman, at Red Bank, N. J. There were present representative, from the New York, Boston, Cincinnati and St. Louis Clubs. Managers of the Chicago, Brooklyn, Philadelphia and Pittsburg Clubs were neither invited nor expected.
At this meeting the National Agreement, drawn by A. G. Mills, and which had been for so many years the cornerstone of the Base Ball edifice, withstanding all the storms that had beaten upon it, was abrogated, that a Trust might be formed which should thereafter control the interests of the game. The nature of this proposed radical change in League Base Ball control may be gleaned from the following excerpt from the files of the New York Sun, under date December 11, 1901:
"This scheme contemplates the organization of the National League Base Ball Trust, to be divided into preferred and common stock, the preferred stock to draw a dividend of 7 per cent., all of which is to belong to the National League, as a body; the common stock to be used in payment for the present eight League Clubs, as follows:
   "New York to receive about 30 per cent. "Cincinnati to receive about 12 per cent. "St. Louis to receive about 13 per cent. "Boston to receive about 13 per cent. "Philadelphia to receive about 10 per cent. "Chicago to receive about 10 per cent. "Pittsburg to receive about 8 per cent. "Brooklyn to receive about 6 per cent.
Of course, this newspaper clipping, startling as it was, did not convey to the world in general what it did to some of us who had long been identified with the game, both as to its playing and its management. To us it meant the immediate syndicating of Base Ball along lines identically the same as those which have disgraced control of the theatrical business in America for many years. It meant the introduction of a system whereby one man qr a half-dozen men, working with him to a single purpose, might dominate the entire business—and with villainous brutality. It meant the blacklisting of players without cause; the boycotting of cities without excuse. It meant, in short, what has been aptly termed "Syndicate" methods, and the general demoralization of our national sport in its every interest.
It was at this juncture that the managers of the Chicago, Philadelphia, Pittsburg and Brooklyn Clubs appealed to me to come to their aid. Before I arrived at the Convention, without my connivance, knowledge or consent, the name of A. G. Spalding had been placed in nomination for the Presidency of the National League. I did not desire that office. I had quite enough on hand to engage all my time and attention without the added cares ​and responsibilities attaching to the office for which I had been named.
But I was terribly in earnest in my desire that Freedmanism should not obtain ascendancy in the League, and so I found myself an interested spectator of the proceedings of the National League Convention on Wednesday, December 11, 1901, and immediately thereafter I was in one of the sharpest Base Ball battles of my life. Let it be remembered that at the formation of the National League I had engaged in a struggle against abuses that had grown up under the mild, pacific, fostering influences of the two National Associations of Amateur Base Ball Players and Professional Base Ball Players. I had fought with President Hulbert to stamp out gambling and pool-selling. Later I had been engaged in ridding the game of players who were in collusion with the gambling fraternity. Still later I united with those who found it necessary to free Base Ball from a lot of irresponsible, unreliable drunkards, who, although good players, were a disgrace and hindrance to the game.
Now, for the first time, I was face to face with a situation full of graver menace than any of the others had been, because those who were seeking its ruin now were men of real power, men of ability, men of acute business instincts—an enemy that knew how to fight.
In all the former battles for the life of our national sport the men who stood for the preservation of Base Ball in its integrity had won. Every form of abuse had been so completely eradicated that public confidence had been regained, the press of the country was united in its ​declaration that the game was clean; that gambling had been kicked out; that pool-selling had been kicked out; that drunkenness had been kicked out; and now I was determined that so far as I had the power to help the upright managers of the League, Freedman and Freedmanism should be kicked out. As to the proper control of Base Ball the man was impossible; he must go.
Perhaps in no other way can I so well define my position at that time as by republishing here the substance of the address made by me at the Convention to which I had been called, to prevent, if possible, the syndicating of Base Ball. After the roll-call on that day, I addressed the Chair, asking, as an honorary member of the League, the privilege of a hearing. This courtesy having been granted me by the presiding officer, without objection from anyone present, I proceeded with my remarks substantially in the following words:
"Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen:
"I claim the right of addressing a few words to this League. I find myself placed in a somewhat awkward position by the announcement that has been made in the press the last few days, connecting my name with the nomination for the presidency of this League. I at first looked upon it as my annual newspaper nomination; but I find that the papers still, without my request or permission, are using my name, and declare that it has been brought before this Convention. I learn that it was; that I have been nominated here. I don't know who nominated me. He had no authority to do it. I didn't know he was to do it. I have heard that it came before the Convention in a regular manner, and have learned that there has been some discussion about it.
"I repeat that I now find myself placed in a very embarrassing situation, and I believe that I am entitled to insist upon this League coming to an early vote on that question. I don't ask you to vote for me. I don't care if you vote eight to nothing against me. I simply claim that as a member of this League in years gone by—as ​an honorary member now—as a gentleman who has a personal reputation to maintain, I have a right to demand that you cast your votes on my nomination and get it out of the way.
"If you will stop and think a minute, you will see that I am placed in a. somewhat peculiar position before the public. I might say in this connection that a very prominent president of one of the League clubs (Mr. Soden), a gentleman for whom I have the highest regard and in whom I have the utmost confidence, asked me as a special favor to refrain from making any comment or withdrawing my name, as it might injure the National League; might be used as a club by the American League, with whom you are at war. I told him I would do so.
"Now, I find that, being nominated, my name is foot-balled around quite generally; in the press, in this room, everywhere, in a way that to me is not satisfactory.
"I am told that this is the last day of the National League. Rumor declares that it will not outlive the day. Gentlemen, I was present at the birth of this organization. I saw it when its eyes were first opened to the light of day, twenty-six years ago next February, in this city. If it is to be buried to-day—if this is its last day—I ask, gentlemen, the privilege of closing its eyes in death. I claim that not only as a privilege but a right.
"I also want to be here to take away the body, that an autopsy may be held to determine the cause of death. I also claim that I have a right to say something about where it shall be buried, and I may have something to offer as to the design of the monument that is to be erected over it.
"This National League has two fathers: One, William A. Hulbert—God bless his memory—and the other—myself. Twenty-six years ago this month I spent thirty days in Mr. Hulbert's house with him, writing the first constitution; and I claim, because of that; because of the fact that I have been unanimously elected an honorary member of this body, I have the right to speak in its councils.
"We have a very sick patient here—as I read in the papers—a very sick patient. I think it is time that somebody asked some questions to find out what has brought it to this condition. Emaciated in form, pulse weak, heart fluttering; and yet we see a few motions of the muscles that indicate that life is not extinct. Gentlemen, as an honorary member of this League, if it is to die, I propose to stay by that corpse until it is buried. I sincerely hope I am misinformed.
"I object to any more daggers being thrust into that body in my presence. At least I have the right to demand that. Let us stand by this body that seems to be at the point of death for a few ​minutes and see if we cannot fan it into life; see if we cannot do something that will bring it back and save the reputation that has been twenty-six years in making— a reputation, gentlemen, that you need to be very careful and guarded how you throw away.
"This League has a great reputation. I have known something about its early career, its middle career, and have kept watching it. What was it for? What was the organization of this League for? To perpetuate, establish and maintain the integrity of Base Ball. What is this Base Ball that we talk about? I do not want to take much of your time, but let us take a few moments to answer this question.
"Base Ball is a distinctly American sport, suitable to the American character, played under rules known to every American boy ten years of age. And here is the National League, the guardian of that sport. To be the guardian of a nation's sport is no mean honor. I sometimes wonder if you realize the responsibility. Here, in your bickerings and your financial schemings, everything is subordinated to those features.
"The game first appeared back in the forties. In the latter part of the fifties it became known in New York, New England and Philadelphia. When the soldiers from those sections went into the army they took with them this new game of Base Ball. It was played in camps of both armies. At the end of the war it was disseminated throughout the United States, and there was a furore of Base Ball. So, gentlemen. Base Ball has a patriotic as well as sentimental and business sides.
"This National organization, which has stood for so many years, I hope may not expire to-day. I beg of you, think before you stab it to its death.
"Of course, as this game became popular all over the country, there was needed some form of organization. The first organization was the National Association of Amateur Base Ball Players, composed of clubs all over the Nation. That soon got into trouble because a man would come with two hundred proxies and elect himself president. The man who had the next number would be treasurer, and so on. You can imagine how long such an arrangement could last. It answered the purpose for the time being, but it was found inadequate. The next step was the semi-professional, or veiled-amateur era, as you might term it. From that came the full-fledged professional player, represented in the old Cincinnati Red Stocking Club in 1869. I was among those original professional players, and in a small way did what I could to relieve a certain odium that existed ​between amateurism and professionalism. A professional League was organized, and here sits the first secretary of that professional League. It served its purpose.
"We were new at legislation, and one thing after another crept in. We had the gambling instinct to contend with. The first thing we knew, the gamblers had us by the throat. I have seen players go up and buy pools before the game commenced, generally on their own club, but they often would have a friend buying double the amount on the other. It became so intolerable that Base Ball was a stench in the nostrils of every decent man, and it was almost a disgrace to say that you were a professional Base Ball player. Mr. Hanlon will bear me out in that. Mr. Reach played in those days and he can bear me out. The public was interested in the game, but the gamblers would not permit it to be played except under their direction.
"I had the honor to be captain and pitcher of the original Boston Base Ball Club. I look back to that period as covering four or five of the pleasantest years of my life. We won the championship right along. Our crowds, large at first, kept getting smaller. The last year we played in Boston we never lost a game on the home grounds and we hardly had as many spectators as players.
"I went to Chicago with three other players of the Boston Club. Excuse me, gentlemen, if I digress here. The rules provided at that time, in this first professional association, that if a ball player signed a contract with any other club except the one he was with before the season was closed he was expelled. I took certain chances there of being expelled, but the gentleman who has done more for Base Ball than any man who has ever lived said to us: 'Boys, I'll attend to that; your salaries go whether you are expelled or not. I defy this Association to expel you players, because you are stronger than the Association; and, furthermore, there are iniquities in this Association that need correcting.' The result of that was—the meeting did not take place then until March—Mr. Hulbert and myself, in his house, where I spent thirty days, in December, 1875, decided to organize a new association.
"So this National League was born in rebellion, and I take pleasure in saying that I was one of the rebellious parties. I was looking over the other night the original constitution that we wrote—several drafts were made of it, and we re-wrote it—and when we got through with that we had a pretty nice structure; and, gentlemen, as I look at it to-day, you could get very many good points from that old constitution of 1876, making allowance, of course, for the ​improvements of the game. You can find some very good ideas there. At any rate, the contrast between the constitution of '76 in this National League and the one of 1901 before us is very marked.
"It was customary for the Eastern Clubs to go West and the Western Clubs to go East, and back again, two trips each year. In those days the expense of traveling back and forth was enormous. Previous to the organization of the League, the New York and Philadelphia Clubs had got the Western Clubs to come East twice; they had gone once, and when it came the following year, they said, 'We don't go.' They were given to understand when they came into the National League that no more nonsense of that kind would be allowed. The first year we ran against the New York and Philadelphia people trying the same thing on the National League. At the annual meeting Mr. A. G. Mills appeared as State's attorney for the National League and demanded the expulsion of these two Clubs. It was one of the most pathetic scenes I ever witnessed. I saw the President of the Philadelphia Club in Mr. Hulbert's room, with tears in his eyes, saying: 'I beg of you not to expel us; we will enter into any bonds; we will do anything.' Mr. Hulbert said: 'No; we are going to expel you to-morrow.' The same thing was done with the New York Club, which was run by Mr. Cammeyer, a great personal friend of Mr. Hulbert. Mr. Hulbert said: 'No; we are going to expel you.' They were brought into the room, charges were made, and the vote was unanimous against them. The New York Club walked out; the Philadelphia Club did the same thing. We didn't stop to consider gate receipts. What did we take into their places? Worcester and Troy! Think of that!
"I have been in the National League when we did those things. The following year we found four players selling games when we were organized to protect them and prevent it. They were guilty. One player came to Chicago, appeared in Mr. Hulbert's office with tears in his eyes, down on his knees in prayer, and begged him not to expel; that his family was starving. Those were pathetic times. I remember Mr. Hulbert going into his pocket and giving the man fifty dollars. He said: 'Devlin, that's what I think of you personally; but, damn you, you have sold a game; you are dishonest, and this National League will not stand for it. We are going to expel you.'
"I have lived in those days. I have seen the result of such action. The New York and Philadelphia Clubs were expelled and you are enjoying the fruits of it; it gave a standing to this national sport. The expelling of those players has preserved the integrity of ​professional Base Ball, and you have not had a case since. Later we expelled ten of the most prominent players in America for drunkenness. That has helped to remove drunkenness from Base Ball.
"Now we seem to be up against a new condition. I don't know just what is the cause of it, but when I read in the papers that the National League is not expected to live the day out, I cannot resist coming up here to at least enter a protest against letting it expire. It seems to me that you have had a sort of consultation of physicians. I don't know just who can be called the head physician; who wrote the prescription; I don't know what apothecary made up the dose, but I know that some poisonous preparation has been given to this old body that lies prostrate here to-day, and I accuse the man who did it, and I accuse all the rest of you who permitted it. If this body dies, I charge you with its death.
"I would feel that I was not doing what I ought to do as an honorary member of this League if in these days of distress I did not raise my voice in solemn protest against any further efforts in the same direction. I have no personal feeling against any man in this room. In fact, I can say that some of the best friends I have in the world are here. But when it comes to the question of personal friendship for one of you, or two of you, or all of you combined, I think more of the National League than I do of any one of you or of all of you.
"I hope that some kind of argument, some words that I may utter here, will bring you to a realizing sense of the situation. The eyes of this Nation are upon you, and somehow or other the people have an idea that you are a band of conspirators, talking nothing but gate receipts. You have got into a fight with the American League; you have lost players, I understand; I certainly judge from the papers that you have lost their support, and I am told that some have violated the confidence that was reposed in them by this League.
"I accuse you of having violated a trust in having abrogated the National Agreement. The most damnable thing that was ever done in Base Ball was the way that was done. I don't know and care not who the members of the Board of Arbitration may be, and I care not whether or not you had a right; I say it was damnable to take away the very foundations of this whole business. I feel an especial interest because the first National Agreement in effect was one that bore my name in '77.
"Now, it appears that peculiar things have been going on here, and I don't know just what all this commotion is about. I don't really get onto it; but I find myself in an embarrassing position ​before the public, as standing for the presidency of this' League; and while I have been told that it won't do for me to say anything, I can't wait any longer.
"My name is mentioned here in connection with the presidency. I understand it was brought before this meeting. Who is the man who presented it? Whoever he was, he had no authority from me to do it. I never knew he intended to do it. I regret his having done it if he did not have some intimation that it might be carried to a vote.
"I am not seeking the office, and I don't ask you to vote for me; but I do ask you to get it out of the way in any way you please; vote it eight to nothing, seven to one, or five to three against me, or any way; but, gentlemen, I feel that I am entitled to have it settled, and settled to-day.
"Mr. Chairman, I won't detain you any longer. I would ask that a vote on the presidency of the League be taken now. I thank you, Mr, Chairman, for your kindness."