Our Base Ball Club and How It Won the Championship

Title: Our Base Ball Club and How It Won the Championship

Author: Noah Brooks

Author of introduction, etc.: A. G. Spalding

Release date: June 1, 2019 [eBook #59645]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/59645

Credits: Produced by Graeme Mackreth and The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)

OUR BASE BALL CLUB.

"YOUR FATHER, THE JUDGE, SAYS YOU SHOULD COME TO BREAKFAST RIGHT AWAY, MISS."—Frontispiece.

OUR BASE BALL CLUB

AND

HOW IT WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP

BY

NOAH BROOKS

Author of "The Fairport Nine," "The Boy Emigrants," etc.

WITH AN INTRODUCTION

BY

AL. G. SPALDING

OF THE CHICAGO BASE BALL CLUB

New York

E.P. DUTTON AND COMPANY

39 West 23d Street

1884

Copyright, 1884,

By E.P. DUTTON & CO.

St. Johnland Stereotype Foundry, Suffolk Co., N.Y.

Press of J.J. Little & Co. 10 Astor Place, N.Y.

INTRODUCTION.

When we consider how strong a hold the pastime of base ball playing has upon our people, it is a little surprising that more frequent use of the game, as a framework, has not been made by writers of fiction. There are very few Americans, certainly very few of the younger generation, who are not only familiar with the nomenclature and rules of base ball, but are enthusiastic lovers of the sport. Even among the gentler sex, who may be regarded as spectators only of the game, there is to be found much sound information and an intelligent acquaintance with the details of base ball playing; while every hearty and wholesomely taught boy knows everything worth knowing about the game, the famous players, the historic contests, and the notable features of the sport, as practiced in various sections of the republic.

To write an introduction to a story whose slender plot should be threaded on a base ball match seems to be an almost superfluous work. But I am glad that Mr. Brooks has undertaken to illustrate "The National Game" by a story of outdoor life, founded on fact and incidentally introducing personages which are not wholly creatures of his imagination. The tale here told very cleverly gives the reader a glimpse of the ups and downs, the trials and the triumphs of a base ball club. It is written by one who is thoroughly well informed of the things concerning which he gives such vivid pictures, and, while nothing is really needed to popularize the game, I am sure the story will commend itself to every lover of pure and wholesome literature.

A.G. SPALDING.

CONTENTS.

[Pg 9]

OUR BASE BALL CLUB,

AND HOW IT WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP.

CHAPTER I.

GREAT EXPECTATIONS.

Alice Howell was flattening her pretty nose against the window pane as she looked ruefully out into the misty atmosphere that surrounded her father's house in North Catalpa. It was eight o'clock in the morning, and the great base ball match was set for two o'clock, that afternoon. As soon as she had risen, Alice had run to the window to see what were the signs of the sky, for Alice was an ardent lover of the American game, and her heart was set on the great match that was to come off on the Agricultural Grounds, near Catalpa, that day. The sky was dull and lowering, and there was little chance that the game would be called.

"Your father, the Judge, says you should come to breakfast right away, miss," said the little handmaid of the house.

Alice turned from the window with an impatient sigh, saying "Oh dear, Jessie, do you suppose the Jonesville Nine will come up to play the Catalpas, this afternoon?"

[Pg 10]

"'Deed I don't know, miss. I hope so, for Miss Anstress has promised me that I shall go over to see the game if it is played, and goodness only knows when I shall get off again to see a base ball match if I don't go to-day."

"But look at the weather! It's as dark as a pocket, and it looks as if it might rain at any moment. Oh dear! oh dear! it's too bad, so it is. And this is to be the last game of the season, and the decisive one, too." And so, more talking to herself than to the small servant who trotted behind her, with a sympathetic air, the pretty Miss Alice went to the breakfast-table where her father waited for her with an aspect of amused dignity.

"One cannot see across the river for the fog, papa," said the girl, with a disconsolate tone, as she seated herself. "The fences are dripping with moisture, and the dam roars just as it always does when there is a rain-storm coming up. How very provoking!"

"Well, and has my little girl forgotten that it was the day before yesterday that Farmer Boggs was in here from Sugar Grove and said that unless they had more rain before the frosts set in, it would be a hard year for winter wheat? And wasn't it my little girl who said that she wanted Stone River running full, this fall, in order that she might enjoy her new club skates when the ice came?"

"But, papa, the crops can wait a day or two for the fall rains, I am sure, and I should be willing to give up a whole[Pg 11] winter's skating if the Catalpas would only beat the Jonesville Nine—the horrid fellows! And I am sure they would beat them, if they only played them to-day, for they are in capital form now."

"Hush! hush! my daughter," said Judge Howell, with a little shudder, "that is slang that you are using, and I shall have to curtail your base ball amusement if you are so ready to pick up the jargon of what they call, I believe, 'The Diamond Field,' for I do not want my daughter to mingle the slang of the game with her mother's mode of speech."

The Judge was somewhat prosy and not at all in love with the noble game which his daughter, in common with all of the girls of Catalpa, and of the whole Stone River country, for that matter, followed with so much enthusiasm.

The base ball club of Catalpa was made up of some of the finest young fellows in the town. Catalpa was situated on both sides of Stone River, in northern Illinois. It was a busy manufacturing and milling community, and from its homes had gone many a stalwart young chap to fight his country's battles in the southwest. The survivors of the company that went out and came back, decimated as to numbers and not all sound in body, founded the first base ball club of the region. The members of the club called themselves "The Catalpas," after their town. Most of the players lived on the north side of the river, and were soon dubbed "The North Catalpas" by their rivals who, living[Pg 12] on the other side of the stream, and in the main portion of the town, and forming another club, arrogated to themselves the title of "Catalpa's Champions."

Gradually, the membership of the two organizations changed. The old soldiers retired in favor of their sons and nephews. The club on the south side of the river was reorganized and an entirely new set of young men came into it. The name of "The Dean County Nine," was given to the southside club, and, as it was largely composed of young men who worked in the flouring mills and the lumber-yards along the river front, it was famous for the brawn and muscle of its players.

The Catalpa Nine, on the other hand, was made up of students in the Seminary, young fellows in the law and county offices of the town, and sons of gentlemen of leisure. There was a chasm as wide as Stone River fixed between the Dean County Nine and the Catalpa Nine, so far as social relations were concerned. The Dean County players called the Catalpas "Aristocrats" and the Catalpas retorted with the epithet of "Stalwarts" applied to their town rivals. When it is added that the finest residences were built on the north side of the river dividing the town, and that the men of more moderate means dwelt on the business side of the stream, the reason for the imaginary line of separation betwixt the two ball clubs will be more apparent.

After repeated and not always friendly matches between the rival clubs, they were drawn together by the appearance[Pg 13] of a common enemy. From the little town of Jonesville, situated eighteen miles down the river, came the Jonesvillians, as they called themselves, a powerful and well-trained nine. They had challenged and vanquished the nine of Dry Plains, the Blue Falls Nine, and their own Home Club, commonly known through the Stone River region as "The Jonesville Scrubs." Flushed with victory, the Jonesvillians had challenged and played two games with the Catalpas, contesting the championship of northern Illinois. It must be admitted that the record of neither of the two Catalpa clubs was one of which the people of the town had any right to be proud. Both clubs, while closely contesting with each other, had been repeatedly beaten by visitors from the surrounding region. Naturally the sympathies of the "Stalwarts" was with the "Aristocrats" when an out-of-town club came to try conclusions. Every true son and daughter of the town of Catalpa was

hotly enlisted for the home nine in any contest that might be fought out for the championship. It was aggravating that the Jonesville Nine, most of whom were rough and loud-talking fellows, should conquer the whole country, from the Wisconsin line to Lasalle, and from Chicago to the Mississippi River.

That was the reason why Miss Alice Howell, the only daughter and the spoiled child of the eminent and widowed district Judge, should be downcast and fidgety when she looked out and saw, on this fateful morning, that the weather gave signs of being unfit for the decisive game[Pg 14] for the championship. The Jonesville Nine had won the first game. The Catalpas were victors in the second game. To-day, if all went well, would give the championship to the Catalpas. The Catalpas had regularly "whitewashed" the Dean County Nine, in spite of their stalwart strength. But they had failed to hold their own against many another club from other portions of the country roundabout. In the first game for the championship, the Catalpas had beaten the Jonesvillians by a score of 24 to 13—an overwhelming defeat for the down-river club. But the Jonesville men had carried off the second game with a score of 14 to 13, which was a close game, and was lost by the Catalpas, as their friends all said, by the Catalpas being in bad condition. Albert Heaton, the catcher, was afflicted with blistered hands and

could do very little effective work behind the bat; and George Buckner, center fielder, had been obliged to leave the field just before game was called, on account of a sudden sickness in his own home; and this necessitated sundry changes that demoralized the Nine, and disarranged their plans.

"And after all," said Alice, exultingly, as she recounted these facts to her father, on the morning of the fateful day, "after all, the Jonesvillians only beat by one run. To-day, the Catalpas are in splendid form—condition, I mean, and if it only would clear off, I am sure they will send the Jonesville fellows down the river with what Ben Burton calls 'a basket of goose eggs,'—I beg pardon, papa, for[Pg 15] this bit of slang; but you will observe that it is a quotation."

"Yes, from a favorite author," said the Judge, rising from the breakfast table, with a shrewd smile.

Alice flushed, a little angrily, perhaps, for she did not like Burton, although he was her cousin and was said to be a suitor for her favor.

[Pg 16]

CHAPTER II.

"A SCRUB GAME."

Notwithstanding the gloom of the morning, the day came off bright and fine, and by the time the train was due from the West, bringing the Jonesville boys, the weather was perfect. A serene October sky bent over Catalpa, and the bright river flowed rippling toward the Mississippi, its banks red and yellow with autumnal foliage. Crossing the bridge from North Catalpa and from the farming settlements to the north were strings of buggies, lumber-wagons and other vehicles; and not a few sight-seers jogged along on horseback, all with their faces set toward the Agricultural Fair Grounds, just above the town and lying to the southward. Catalpa is built on a slope that descends from the rolling prairie to the bank of Stone River. Once out of the town, one reaches a lovely stretch of undulating ground skirted by a dead level plain, admirably adapted for a base ball field. The original use of the Fair Grounds had almost been forgotten when the ball clubs of Catalpa began to practice within the enclosure. The Northern District fair

had[Pg 17] gone farther North, and the grounds were left to chance comers—a travelling circus, or an occasional amateur racing match.

To-day, the blue and white flag of the Catalpas floated proudly from what had once been the Judges' stand, while the pale green colors of the Jonesvillians hung lazily from a staff driven into the ground to the westward of the track. For more than an hour before the time set for the calling of the game, a steady stream of people poured into the enclosure. The battered and rickety seats had been patched up to bear the weight of those who were willing to pay the small fee exacted for the privilege; but the mass of the spectators were grouped together in the open spaces to the westward and southward of these, and farther around the ring was a thin line of vehicles of various descriptions. Men and women on horseback, young girls crowded into wagon-boxes, and boys ramping around on scrubby mustangs, filled up the background.

It was a pretty sight. And while the crowd waited for the hour to arrive, much scientific base ball gossip drifted about the enclosure. Village lads who had worked hard or had teased with uncommon assiduity to secure the "two bits" needed to gain admission to the grounds, chaffed each other vociferously and exchanged learned comments on the playing and the qualities of the combatants.

"Oh you should have seen John Brubaker play right field that day when the Catalpas sent the Jonesvillers home[Pg 18] with a big headache," said one of these small critics, as he viewed with admiration Brubaker's stalwart form reclining at ease in the shade of the judges' stand. "Why he just everlastingly got away with the ball every time one of the Jonesvillers gave him one. Then there was Lew Morris, there's no player in the Jonesvillers, 'cept it is Larry Boyne, that can catch a ball like Lew, and why the Catalpas keep him in the left field, I don't know."

"Oh you talk too much with your mouth, you, Bill, you," cried a bigger base ball connoisseur. "What do you know about the game? Why, I saw the Jonesvillians, three years ago, when they first played the old Catalpas, I mean the soldier boys. That was playing, now I tell you. Hurrah! There comes the Nine!"

Pretty Alice Howell, sitting in her father's carriage and accompanied by the Judge and her severe-looking aunt, Miss Anstress, clapped her hands at the sight, for the two Nines drew near to each other and the game was called. The dignified Judge smiled at the girl's enthusiasm, but, as he looked around, he saw that multitudes of other young ladies, as well as ladies no longer young—mothers and aged spinsters, watched the preliminaries of the game with absorbing interest.

The Jonesville Nine were not so well developed, physically, as the Catalpas. They were mostly farmer's sons, born and bred on the low prairies to the westward of Stone River. It is a region long famous for its prevailing fever-and-ague[Pg 19] epidemic. The sallow faces of some of the Jonesville players suggested quinine and "cholagogue," just then a favorite specific among the ague-smitten population of Northern Illinois. Nor were the members of the visiting Nine as uniform in size and appearance as the Catalpas. The breadth of chest and vigorous outline of the home nine were not repeated in the forms of the Jonesville boys.

"PRETTY ALICE HOWELL, SITTING IN HER FATHER'S CARRIAGE, AND ACCOMPANIED BY THE JUDGE AND HER SEVERE LOOKING AUNT, MISS ANSTRESS, CLAPPED HER HANDS AT THE SIGHT."—Page 18.

The Catalpas were well chosen with an eye to symmetry and uniformity. They were all brawny and athletic young fellows. As they were mostly men of leisure, they had had plenty of time to practice, and they were apparently ready to give good account of themselves. Chiefly on Al Heaton, the stalwart catcher, did the eyes of the multitude rest with favor. He was a tall, shapely young fellow, with a ruddy and oval face, bright brown eyes, a keen glance, and a sinewy length of limb that gave him pre-eminence in the field.

The batting game of the Catalpas was better than that of the Jonesvillians, as all previous encounters had shown. But the fielding of the Jonesville boys was far better than that of any other nine with whom they had measured their strength and skill. And Larry Boyne, a fresh-faced and laughing young man from Sugar Grove, but a member of the Jonesville Nine, was the champion catcher of the whole region. So long as the Jonesville Nine held on to Larry, they felt sure of victory. Larry Boyne was a trifle shorter than the average of his comrades. His round and well-poised head was covered with a shock of curly flaxen[Pg 20] hair, and his sturdy legs, muscular arms and ample chest gave token of a large stock of reserved power. "That's the best looking Jonesvillian of them all" was the secret thought of many an observant girl and the open criticism of many a loud-talking spectator.

This is the manner of placing the two Clubs:—

Catalpas. Lewis Morris, L.F. Charlie King, P. Hart Stirling, 2d B. Will Sprague, 3d B. John Brubaker, R.F. Hiram Porter, 1st B. George Buckner, C.F. Albert Heaton, C. Ben Burton, S.S. Jonesvilles. Studley, 2d B. Larry Boyne, C. Morrison, 1st B. Ellis, P. Wheeler, C.F. Martin, L.F. Simpson, 3d B. Berthelet, R.F. Alexander, S.S.

The Catalpas won the toss and went to the field, with due consideration for the improvement of their chances in the final innings, and the game began with a comfortable feeling pervading the champions of the home nine. The winning of the toss was a good omen, everybody thought.

A buzz of half-suppressed excitement swept over the field as Studley, of the Jonesville Nine, went first to the bat. He sent a low ball to second base which Hart Stirling failed to hold, and Studley got to first base. Larry Boyne followed and sent up a sky-high ball, and Studley, having stolen to second and third base, got safely home, while[Pg 21] Larry reached second base. Morrison sent a good right fielder, on which he got half-way around, while Larry, with a rush, made the home run, adding one more to the score of the Jonesvilles. Alice bit her lip with vexation, but some of the more magnanimous of the townspeople commented, under their breath, "Good for the red-cheeked Irishman!"

Great things were expected of Ellis, the champion pitcher of the Jonesvillians, who went next to the bat, and who was reckoned as nearly as good with the bat as with the ball; but he made a poor strike, and, with a long-drawn "Oh-h-h!" from the sympathetic friends of the home club, the ball dropped near the home base and the young champion of Jonesville went out on his first. Next, Morrison, in his haste to get to third base, was put out by Will Sprague, and the fortunes of the visitors visibly waned. Wheeler, who went next to the bat, provoked a murmur of approbation from the spectators, who were now warming up to the game, and who admired the handsome proportions and springy movements of the center fielder of the Jonesvillers. He sent a resounding ball safely to the right field, got to first base, but, overrunning the second base, was neatly put out by Hart Stirling, the second base man of the Catalpas. Thus closed the innings—two runs for the visiting Nine.

"Not much to brag of," remarked Bill Van Orman, the big pitcher of the Dean County Nine. "Not much to brag of, and I don't think that the Jonesvillians are feeling[Pg 22] first rate over this. Let them wait until Al Heaton and Charlie King get after them. Then they'll sing small, I allow."