A Baseball House Divided (Re-Boot)

[legendsport]

Something I've always regretted is the demise of my 'A Baseball House Divided' dynasty back at the start of 2007. That was related to problems switching from OOTP 6.5 to 2006.

Well, rather than pick it up (or try to), I figured I'd "re-boot" the thing, start over and fix some of the (rather nit-picky) things I found wrong with the original. OOTP X is going to be a huge boon. Not only can I know track the amateur baseball of the pre-league days, but I can also flesh out the minor leagues too.

So consider this 'A Baseball House Divided 2.0' - the storyline won't change a lot, but there'll be more detail, more characters and (hopefully) a much longer life.

[NYY #23]

I didn't get through much of the original since it was bumped to the top, but I love the concept and the first few pages. Glad you are rebooting this one, I'll be following along.

[legendsport]

excerpted from the memoirs of General John C. Pemberton, CSA (retired), published 1873 by Confederate Military Press, Lexington, Virginia.

I've often wondered about the outcome of the struggles around Vicksburg in the spring and summer of 1863. What happened is well known: Union Major General William T. Sherman made an ill-advised frontal assault on the defenses I had arrayed around the city of Vicksburg, suffered appalling losses and was forced to retreat. When the Army of Mississippi under my command caught up to his forces on July 4, 1863, we decisively defeated him and ended the threat of Union control of the Mississippi River.

But what most don't consider is the fate of Sherman's predecessor as the commander of the Army of the Tennessee. That man's name was Ulysses S. Grant and I served with him in the Mexican-American War some twenty years earlier. The Grant I knew was a shrewd fellow, and though he had obtained a reputation, as it were, I firmly believe he would not have assaulted the city without installing a siege. He had learned from Winfield Scott - as had I - that a siege can be present a garrison with rather compelling reasons for surrender. It is not fast, nor is it glorious, but victory is victory.

But Sam Grant was killed when he was thrown from his horse, which proceeded to fall upon him, crushing him. And Sherman, who had never had full command of an army before, earned a reputation as a reckless butcher by pushing his men against the batteries at Vicksburg, assuring our victory and earning him a ignoble name in the North.

excerpted from "Look Away! Dixie Land - A Confederate History Primer" by Charles S. Deegan, published 1933 by Educational Press, Atlanta, Georgia.


pg. 211: THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG

General Robert E. Lee led the Army of Northern Virginia across the Potomac into Maryland on June 26, 1863 to begin his invasion of the North. With gentlemanly consideration, Lee ordered his men to minimize the negative impact on the civilian population as his army crossed Maryland and entered Pennsylvania.

The Army of Northern Virginia met the Army of the Potomac at the small town of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania on July 1st and the three-day battle which ensued all but assured the ultimate independence of the South....

.... Brigadier General Henry L. Benning's "Brigade of Georgia" became the stuff of legend when they followed the 15th and 47th Alabama Infantry up the slopes of the hill that became known as Big Round Top, where they defeated the 20th Maine Infantry. The Union troops fought desperately and well, and it was only through sheer decimation of their ranks that the Confederate forces gained the summit of Big Round Top...

... after consolidating their hold on Big Round Top, Hood's Corps rolled up the flank of the Union Army which broke and retreated in disarray...

from the New York Evening Herald, July 10, 1863:

DISASTER!

With telegraph wires down, a horse-borne dispatch rider arrived in Trenton, New Jersey late yesterday to report that the worst has happened: the Army of the Potomac, the Grand Army of the Republic, has been decisively defeated by rebel forces near Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. With telegraph lines cut by rebel cavalry, it is unknown where the Army of Northern Virginia is now, or where it is headed. The city of Philadelphia is in panic, while rumors from Washington City are that Mr. Lincoln is considering evacuating the city.

[legendsport]

Brooklyn, New York, August 23, 1863:

"Arthur!" Jake Ganley called out to his friend, moving slowly down the beach.

Jake saw a raised hand in reply, but Arthur kept his gaze cast downward, looking for the perfect shell. He raised his hands and cupped them around his mouth and shouted again: "Arthur!!"

This time Arthur Cummings did turn around and though he had advanced a good fifty yards down the strand, Jake thought he could see a look of irritation on his friend's face. Jake raised his right hand and waved for Arthur to come back.

Arthur shook his head and raised his left hand, showing the shells he had been collecting.

"Forget those! Come over here!" Jake yelled.

Arthur turned and began walking back, stopping one or twice to fire a shell out into the waves crashing into Brooklyn Beach and smiling as he watched them curve before dropping into the surf.

"Confound it Arthur, I have big news!" Jake said.

"Do you know Jake, I believe I can make a base ball curve if I can figure out the right way to hold my hand," Arthur said by way of reply. He had been coming to the beach for a week, tossing shells into the water and practicing various motions - all underhand, as that was what the rules required. "If only we could pitch the base ball over hand," Arthur was fond of muttering.

"Forget your stupid curving base ball idea, Art and look!" Jake grabbed Arthur's chin and pointed it to the west. A smudge of smoke rose on the horizon.

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise. "What is that?" he asked with a note of alarm.

Jake shook his head. "It's what I've been trying to tell you about. New York is on fire!"

Arthur looked at the smoke rising into the air, thought of his father and began running up the beach as fast as his short legs would carry him. Jake, bigger than Arthur (though both were 14, Jake was tall and thick while Arthur was short and thin), ran after his friend and soon caught up.


South of Chambersburg, Maryland, August 23, 1863:

Private Dennis Coughlin really wanted a drink. Not a canteen of water, but a real, honest to goodness spot of whiskey. He licked his lips thinking of it. Of course that wasn't going to be forthcoming. Private Coughlin was currently a prisoner of the Confederate States Army, and he doubted they'd be passing out whiskey bottles.

His blue uniform was torn and dirty and there was blood on the left leg of his pants. The blood wasn't his own, but it still disturbed Coughlin. Until recently he had been with the 140th New York Infantry, the "Rochester Race Horses" and a part of the Army of the Potomac. Then that Army had been whipped at Gettysburg, chased halfway back to New York (or so it seemed) and then captured by some of J.E.B. Stuart's cavalry. Now they were prisoners and marching south towards the heart of the Confederacy.

"Hey, boyo, might you have something beside water in your canteen?" he asked one of the graycoated cavalrymen. The reb rubbed his beard and spat.

"If'n I did, you can damn sure bet I wouldn't be giving it to you." The reb shot him a look of contempt and booted his horse into a trot.

The Rebs assigned to watch Coughlin and his fellow prisoners as they marched south behind the main body of the Army were not happy about their current assignment. Coughlin had already seen them shoot one man for not keeping up - which wasn't easy when the prisoners walked while the guards rode - and also explained blood on his pants leg. No doubt they'd rather be with the main force as it attacked Washington City.

Coughlin cast his mind away, a trick he had picked up during the long and boring marches he had endured since joining the Union Army in 1862. It was a good way to beat the boredom. He thought about his days playing base ball in Rochester. The competition had been good - and so was he - and he sincerely missed the contests.

He sighed and trudged on into an unknown future.

[Hurkman]

I am so glad that you're bringing this back. I remember when you started this back in the day, and I loved it then. As someone that loves Civil War-era history, it's already off to a good start. This is certainly one that I'll be following along with.

[legendsport]

Originally Posted by NYY #23

I didn't get through much of the original since it was bumped to the top, but I love the concept and the first few pages. Glad you are rebooting this one, I'll be following along.

Thanks! The basic framework is going to be the same (with a few differences, I'd imagine as we get further along), but this is going to be more detailed and character-driven than the original.

Originally Posted by Hurkman

I am so glad that you're bringing this back. I remember when you started this back in the day, and I loved it then. As someone that loves Civil War-era history, it's already off to a good start. This is certainly one that I'll be following along with.

Yeah, it's been awhile. I was always disappointed by the way the original just withered and died. I'd like to see this move further into the 20th century than the first go-round.

[legendsport]

From the newspapers, August 24, 1863:

CHICAGO TIMES:
... rioters have burned a large portion of southern Manhattan and reports from New York indicate that militia from the Battery were called in to quell the disturbances. Scores have perished...

BOSTON POST:
...in addition to the riots and looting in New York, there have been demonstrations here in Boston, and in Philadelphia as well, where the populace lives in expectation of J.E.B. Stuart's cavalry setting up camp in front of Independence Hall at any time...

NEW YORK HERALD:
...word has reached us that Mr. Lincoln and most of his cabinet were captured in Washington City and are now in captivity in Richmond. The number of voices across the nation supporting an end to the war are rising. Can there be any doubt? The war is almost certainly lost and it is time to end the fighting...


Rockford, Illinois, September 8, 1863:

Albert whipped his right arm down and forward and let loose. The ball was true - and fast - and the striker swung his club and missed, despite the pitch being exactly where he requested it. There was a meaty popping sound as the ball hit the catcher's hands.

"Confound it, Al! Don't throw it so fast! Are you trying to break my hand?" Charley Unger, the 17-year-old catcher, shook his hand and threw the ball back.

And so it proceeded from there: Albert Spalding, just 13 years of age (and that number only having been attained a week earlier), a lonely boy whose father had passed when he was just eight, playing base ball with older boys (and the occasional adult) - and succeeding. He was the best pitcher in Rockford and all the other boys knew it.

For himself, Albert tried to temper the praise he received from others. Many of the town's younger men were off in the Union Army. Even after the defeats of the summer, many in Rockford still believed in Mr. Lincoln's cause, still believed that the Union must be preserved. Albert didn't dwell on the war. He was too young to fight and besides, why worry about the war when there was a ball game to be found?


outside Petersburg, Virginia, September 21, 1863:

Private Dennis Coughlin was demonstrating how to swing at a base ball. His audience was a group of Confederate soldiers. The cavalry detachment which had shepherded Coughlin and his mates from Pennsylvania had left them near Richmond and a new group of Rebs had taken over. The group was bound for Danville Prison Camp in southern Virginia, but they were taking their time of it because, apparently, everyone in the Confederate Army believed the war was won and they were just waiting to get the official word.

A strange sort of comraderie had developed between Coughlin and one of the Reb sergeants, Justice Wingo. Wingo was from Georgia, had a thick and unruly beard and even though he had a thick accent and they could barely understand each other, Coughlin and Wingo were becoming friends.

"This isn't much of a bat," Coughlin was explaining as he held the squarish-board that had been "appropriated" by Wingo's men from a farmhouse near Richmond. Noting Wingo's look of disappointment, he hastily added, "but it'll do in a pinch."

Coughlin had made a ball by cobbling together some cork and wrapping it in the remains of his kit bag, and then sewn together with needle and thread supplied by one of Wingo's men. Thus equipped, Coughlin and Wingo led their respective clubs in a game of base ball - Union against Confederate.

When it was over, the Union side victorious, Wingo smiled at Coughlin and chuckled, "I reckon that's the first time in months any Yankee has tasted victory."

Coughlin shook his head and laughed ruefully. "I suspect you're right, Sergeant," he said quietly.

[William Foster]

Loving this so far.. Splendidly written!

I've always loved alternate histories (especially having to do with the civil war) and baseball so this dynasty is perfect... Looking forward to how you continue to tie in real world events and baseball in the South.

[legendsport]

Brooklyn, New York, September 26, 1863:

Mary Cummings was concerned about her son. Arthur had not been himself since the day, just over a month earlier, that his father William had been killed in the fires started by anti-war rioting in New York. Mary was herself still in mourning, but Art had descended into a deep gloom and her main concern was how to get her son to accept his father's death and move on.

"Arthur, I have a surprise for you," she said in a soothing tone as she down on the foot of her son's bed.

Art raised his eyes to his mother, but said nothing.

Mary took a deep, steadying breath. Her heart was breaking for her son, and she hoped this idea - which came from Arthur's friend Jake Ganley - might be the right medicine.

"The Excelsiors are playing a match today. I thought we should go," she said with a smile. "Your friend Jake will be there."

Art shook his head. "I don't much feel up to attending a base ball match, mother," he said.

"Now Arthur, your father would not want you pine away like this. It has been over a month and you are young - it is time to accept that he's gone and go on with your life."

A tear welled in Arthur's eye. He shrugged his shoulders: "OK, I will go. I'd like to see Jake, if nothing else."

Mary smiled. "Jake informed me that someone named Asa Braintree is pitching."

Art gave her a weak smile. "That's Brainard, mother." He rolled his eyes slightly.

Mary got up and congratulated herself - her ploy of mispronouncing the pitcher's name had worked perfectly.



Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, October 30, 1863:

"Come on, boys! Let's get these breastworks finished!"

The foreman could shout and cajole all he pleased, but Doug Allison was already working as quickly as he could.

The foreman continued to bellow: "Scouts saw Stuart's cavalry just five miles from here yesterday. Lee could attack at any time!"

Allison wiped his brow with his sleeve. Though the weather was turning chill as autumn settled in, building earth and wood breastworks kept a man warm.

"Doug, you ever imagine you'd be out here moving logs and filling in dirt?" asked the man next to him, a fellow named Tim Henderson.

Allison frowned. "Of course not. When I signed on as a bricklayer, I expected to be laying bricks for people's homes, not building ramparts to defend the city from attack."

Henderson grinned. "Aww hell, boy. You're what, seventeen? You got plenty of time to be laying bricks. How often do you get to be front and center for history in the making?"

"I'd just as soon miss any history that involves folks shooting at me, thank you very much," Allison said as he shoveled more dirt into a gap between logs.

[legendsport]

from New York Herald Tribune, December 10, 1863:

The war is over. A formal treaty of peace was signed in Washington and went into effect at midnight, December 10. The salient points of the agreement:

* US cedes the District of Columbia, Delaware, Maryland, Kentucky and Missouri to the Confederacy
* US capital to be temporarily located in Philadelphia, pending final decision on a new location
* US to pay an unspecified amount of damages to Confederacy for destruction of property in CSA territory (primarily along the Mississippi and in Northern Virginia)
* West Virginia to be admitted as a US state
* Indian Territory to be annexed to the Confederacy
* Abraham Lincoln to be removed as President of the United States. he will be released from CS custody on January 1



MAP OF THE U.S. & C.S. AS OF 1/1/1870

DK. BLUE - US States
LT. BLUE - US Territories
DK. GRAY - CS States
LT. GRAY - CS Territories


St. Louis, Missouri, December 21, 1863:

Nine-year-old Jack Gleason stood beside his parents and watched as the United States flag was lowered from the State Building in St. Louis. His mother, holding the hand of Jack's brother Will, cried softly. His father wore a stoic expression that Jack had come to recognize as subdued anger.

Will, just five years old, stared at the grey-coated Confederate soldiers who stood at attention as the flag came down, where the familiar blue-coated Union troops also waited at attention.

"Who are they, Jacky," Will asked, pointing at the Confederates.

"They're Confederate soldiers, Will," Jack said quietly.

"What's a ... federate?"

"We are now, I reckon," Jack said in reply.

Hearing this, Will tore his hand away from his mother and ran towards the soldiers, bumping into one who was in the process of attaching the Confederate flag to the flagpole. The mostly white flag fluttered to the ground. The eyes of most of the onlookers widened. From somewhere in the crowd a man snickered.

The soldier spun and backhanded Will in the face, knocking the boy to the ground beside the flag. He immediately began wailing.

Jack ran forward, a step ahead of his father, whose stoic look had given way to the familiar reddening of his neck and face that presaged an eruption of what Jack's mother called "his Irish."

"How dare you sir!" Jack's father shouted. The soldier drew his pistol.

"Holster that sidearm, Lieutenant!" a new voice bellowed.

Jack looked up as a large white horse stepped between the Gleason family and the Confederate honor guard. The man on the horse wore the same grey uniform as the other soldiers, but had a sword strapped to his belt. This meant he was an officer, Jack knew - the bluecoat officers also wore swords.

The man stepped down off his horse and handed the reins to one of the other greycoats. He bent down and scooped Will off the ground, handing him to Jack's father. "Apologies, sir," he said in a thick accent.

The red in his father's neck began to fade and Jack relaxed. The officer extended his hand. "I am Colonel Daniel Hundley of the 31st Alabama Infantry. Please accept my apologies. I know your boy meant no disrespect."

Jack's father swallowed and shook Hundley's hand. "Thank you sir."

Jack stepped forward. "Sir, it was my fault. Willie ran up to your men when I told him we were Confederates now too."

Hundley smiled. "My thanks for the explanation, young man. And yes, you are all Confederates now - or at least you will be once you take the loyalty oath. You are otherwise welcome to pack your belongings and cross the river if you'd prefer to remain in United States territory."

[legendsport]

from "The Illustrated History of Base Ball" by Henry Chadwick, Howard House Publishing, New York, NY 1907.

From its humble beginnings in rounders or cricket (depending on the theory to which theory you adhere), base ball after the internecine struggle between North and South remained a game with no clear set of rules and no sort of governing body yet was growing into one of the most popular pastimes in both the United States and the Confederacy.

That the game was more popular in the North than the South was no great secret, nor much of a surprise; that there were variations called the "Massachusetts Game" and "New York Game" speak volumes about the popularity of the game in those two areas of the recently sundered nation. But in the Confederacy, in places like Georgia, Virginia and Mississippi, those states in which Union soldiers had either spent long periods on campaign, or in prison camps, the game was beginning to flourish in the years 1864 to 1869 - those years immediately following the cessation of hostilities. This is no great wonder for the commonality of history and language ensured that Northern and Southern soldiers bore much in common; therefore that base ball should prove popular in both nations was a logical result of days upon days spent together in the boring drudgery of prison camps.

One man who played a leading role in bringing the game to his native Alabama was Daniel R. Hundley, a Colonel of Infantry who was captured by the Union Army of U.S. Grant at the Battle of Port Gibson (Mississippi) in the spring of 1863 and swapped back to the Confederates a month later. Hundley had attended Harvard University as a young man, where he was exposed to the Massachusetts game and lived in Chicago in the pre-war years, where he not only married, but also saw the game in its Illinois format. In his brief period of captivity, Hundley participated in several matches between Union soldiers and their Confederate captives. He brought the game back to Alabama after first spending time integrating the state of Missouri into the Confederacy following the peace treaty of December 1863. Though a prominent figure in base ball in the Confederacy in the 1870s, Hundley was far from the only one.

The R.E. Lee and Pelican Base Ball Clubs of New Orleans, which both rose in the immediate aftermath of the War of Southern Independence were the precursors for the huge following the game currently enjoys in Louisiana. In Georgia, the 50th Georgia Infantry under Colonel William Manning were exposed to the game while with Lee's Army of Northern Virginia during the Pennsylvania campaign. A group of Manning's men, notably Lieutenant Avery Hastings, became greatly enamored of the game and brought it back to Georgia with them. There were similar cases in each of the Confederate States, including both Texas and the recently acquired Indian Territory (now the state of Sequoyah).

And so, while the game was moving inexorably towards professionalism in the club circuits being established in New York, Philadelphia, Chicago and Boston, it was also growing - albeit slightly more slowly - along the same lines in places like Richmond, Atlanta, Montgomery and New Orleans. In the 1870s everything would begin to accelerate.

[legendsport]

CANADA
Canadian Confederation was the big news of the 1860s. In a series of conferences during 1864, the British colonies of the Province of Canada, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island (with Newfoundland sending observers but not officially participating) create the "Seventy-Two Resolutions" to join in a Canadian Union with powers divided between the provincial governments and a central, federal government. Eventually the provinces sent delegates to London where they were instrumental in drafting the British North America Act which created the Dominion of Canada, was granted the approval of Queen Victoria. The Dominion took effect on July 1, 1867. John A. McDonald is the first Canadian Prime Minister.

MEXICO
The Second Mexican Empire came into being when Austrian Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian Joseph, younger brother of Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph I, was placed on the throne of Mexico, with the backing of the French Army, on April 10, 1864. Though this government was not recognized by many of the world's nations - including the United States - the Confederate States did acknowledge Maximilan and established diplomatic relations. This difference led to the support of Republican leader Benito Juarez by the United States while the Confederacy's open support of Maximilian began a long history of US & CS involvement in Mexican affairs.

EUROPE
In the United Kingdom, the HMS Warrior, the world's first completely iron-hulled ocean-going battleship was launched in 1861. British and French forces assist in putting Maximilian I on the throne of Mexico in 1862-64. The UK fights the Maoris in New Zealand. In 1865 a rebellion in Jamaica is put down with 400 rebels being executed as a result. In 1866, a transatlantic cable was successfully installed following failures in 1857, 1858 and 1865 linking Ireland with Newfoundland. William Gladstone became Prime Minister in 1868.

In France, the French government of Napoleon III is active during the decade of the 1860s, intervening in Mexico and being the key instigator in the installation of Maximilian I as Emperor. French troops are present in Mexico from 1862 until the spring of 1866. The French are also active in the Far East, establishing Vietnam as a colony in 1863, intervening in Korea in 1866 and sending a military mission to Japan in 1867 (subsequently being sent packing by the Japanese in 1868). During the decade, relations between France and Prussia continue to degrade and by the end of the decade, war seems inevitable.

Elsewhere, Giuseppe Garibaldi is key in the unifaction of Italy in 1860. Wilhelm I becomes King of Prussia on the death of Friedrich Wilhelm IV in 1861. Russia eliminates serfdom (1861). Succession disputes in Schleswig-Holstein lead to war between Prussia and Austria on one side and Denmark on the other on February 1, 1864. Prussia and Austria win the war in October 1864. The International Red Cross is founded in Geneva, Switzerland in 1864. Queen Isabel II of Spain's aggressive stance towards the former Spanish colonies in South America leads to war between Spain and an alliance of Peru and Chile in 1864. The war ends in 1866 with the Spanish fleet departing for the Philippines. Isabel II is forced to abdicate in 1870. In 1867, Austria and Hungary are united as the Austro-Hungarian Empire under Emperor Franz Josef I. In 1867, Czar Alexander II of Russia attempts to sell Alaska to the United States, but the treaty fails to pass the Congress due to the cost, which although low ($7.2 million) is "too much in light of our financial obligations to the Confederate States," according to Senator John Sherman of Ohio.

SOUTH AMERICA
While Chile and Peru fought Spain, a Triple Alliance of Brazil, Uruguay and Argentina against Paraguay. The War of the Triple Alliance started in 1864 and did not end until 1870. Paraguay was utterly defeated, with an appalling death toll and the war had major repercussions for the other combatants as well. Slavery ended in Brazil due to the war, Argentina took a major step towards becoming a major power in South America, and Uruguay's independence from Brazil was cemented. Cuba revolts against Spanish rule in 1868, starting a ten-year war which will cost 400,000 Cuban lives.

ASIA
The British and French win the Second Opium War in China in 1861. In 1867 Emperor Komei of Japan dies and is succeeded by Emperor Meiji, ending the Late Tokugawa shogunate.

AFRICA
Ethiopian Emperor Tewodros II executes 700 prisoners for asking for bread and water in 1868. He is later decisively defeated in battle by a combined British-Indian Army. In 1869 the Suez Canal opens for business in an elaborate ceremony.

[legendsport]

Brooklyn, New York, April 18, 1870

Arthur Cummings stood on the beach and looked out over the waves. It all started here, he thought as he picked up a clam shell and whipsawed it out into the water. He grinned a little as he watched it curve. Bending down, he picked up another and fired that one into the ocean as well, making it curve the other way.

He heard the sound of huffing and puffing coming from behind him. Probably Jake, he thought. He knows where to find me.

Sure enough, Jake Ganley stopped beside his friend. "Come on Candy, what are you doing?"

Cummings shook his head slowly. "You too?"

Jake frowned. "What do you mean, me too?"

Cummings turned and looked at Jake. "That darn nickname. You too?"

Now it was Jake's turn to shake his head. "Don't be so pig-headed, Art," he said, emphasizing the last word. "It's a compliment. When something's 'Candy' it means it's the best. And that's what you are - the best."

Arthur 'Candy' Cummings shook his head again. "The best, huh?"

Jake slapped his friend on the shoulder. "Yes, you big oaf - the best. You do realize no one else can make the ball curve like you do, don't you?"

Candy allowed that this was certainly true - at least as far as he had seen.

Jake rubbed his chin. "I heard that some young bub in Chicago can do it too, though. Word does spread."

Candy nodded. "Indeed. I heard the same thing from Deacon. Guy named Spalding. Deac says he's a fine twirler himself - throws hard."

"I'm sure he's not half the twirler you are, Candy," Jake said and started to walk away.

When Cummings didn't follow, he turned and called out, "You do realize you have a game today, don't you?"

Candy nodded, then picked up another clam shell and made it break right as it sailed into the water. "That one's for you, Pop," he said quietly and then went to follow his friend.

Jake laughed as he watched the shell plop into the Atlantic. "Those Knickerbockers are going to have fits when you knock them into a cocked hat with those curving pitches, Candy."


Chicago, Illinois, September 13, 1870

Al Spalding rubbed his chin. "I reckon it's about time we tried those boys out East, don't you?"

"Why in tarnation would we do that? Those fellows have nothing on us, Al," Adrian Anson replied.

"I'm more concerned with what we're doing here," the third member of their little scouting party - second baseman Al Reach - contributed. "Is this even Chicago? I feel like we're out in the cow patties now."

"Don't be contrary, Al," Anson said, "I heard this boy is a cracker at the bat. We need some punch, Conlan is just not good enough for the Excelsior Club."

Spalding sighed heavily and said, "We may be big news here, but my goal is to make a living at this and for that we need to play the famous Eastern clubs."

"The Atlantics, Knickerbockers and Athletics will not play us, Al," Reach said and spit on the dirt. He waved his hand and scoffed, "Are these boys going to play today or not? I could be in a saloon right now."

Spalding pointed. "That's our boy right there. Name's McVey."

Anson squinted. "Yep, I know that fellow. He's from Iowa, same as myself."

Reach rolled his eyes. "We know that, Anson. But your word isn't exactly gospel here in Chicago."

Anson looked hurt. "Why the hell not?" he fired back.

"Because you're just a damn kid yourself. How old are you again?"

"I'm 18 and you damn well know it," Anson replied.

"You're barely old enough to shave and you're an expert on ball players?" Reach laughed.

"And because you're 30, you're the expert?"

Reach sniffed and raised his nose. "Son, I was born to judge talent."

Now Spalding laughed and butted in: "Al, you were born in England. This here's an American game."

Reach shook his head. "No, no, no. I told you both - this game evolved from rounders. You Yanks just stole it from the British."

All three turned at the crack of the bat. McVey, the young player they'd come to see, had just lined a hard shot through the box and into the outfield.

Spalding rubbed his chin again. "We need to get that kid for the Excelsiors. Especially if we're going to take on those Easterners next year."

Reach and Anson shared a look and smirked at each other. Spalding and his dreams...

[legendsport]

Montgomery, Alabama, September 22, 1870

Henry Chadwick reached into his pocket and removed his handkerchief. He wiped his sweaty brow, replaced the handkerchief and knocked on the door of the white frame house.

He was just about to raise his fist to knock again when the door opened. The man who opened it gazed on him with intelligent, twinkling eyes and an uncertain smile.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. I am looking for Colonel Hundley."

The man smiled. "Well, I reckon you found him, mister. What can I do for you this fine day?" Hundley stuck out his hand and Chadwick shook it happily.

"Colonel, I am pleased to meet you. My name's Henry Chadwick and I come from New York."

Hundley's eyebrows raised. "Well, I guessed you for a Yankee, and turns out I was right. How'd you manage a pass to get down here. I've heard it's a bit, umm, troublesome to travel between our two nations right now."

Chadwick allowed that this was true and then added, "But I'm not here about the late war, or politics. I am here to talk about base ball."

Hundley stepped back. "Forgive my rudeness, please come in sir."

Chadwick entered Hundley's home. It was rather plain, but extremely tidy. Over the mantle was a portrait of the Colonel in his uniform. The artist had perfectly captured that unnerving look of intelligence in the man's eyes. Chadwick stood before it and admired it. "An excellent likeness."

Hundley looked pleased. "And it was not cheap to commission either, believe me. But, my wife was adamant that we should commemorate my service as it were, so there you have it."

Hundley offered his visitor a chair and sat across from him. "So what about base ball would bring you all the way from New York to speak with me?"

Chadwick looked a bit sheepish. "I write for a publication called Beadle's Dime Base Ball Player. It is published each year in the spring. I am doing research on the game here in the Confederacy. I heard you were a man who enjoys the game."

Hundley nodded. "Now that you mention it, I have heard of you. You're the fellow who came up with all the numbers and such."

Chadwick was nodding in return. "Indeed."

Hundley spread his hands. "Well, we don't have near as many clubs here in the Confederacy as you Yankees have up north, but there are a few serviceable ball players around."

"I've heard tell that you have been known to play on occasion."

"True. I whip the sphere around with the boys at times. I picked it up during the war when I was a... guest, shall we say?... of the Union Army."

Chadwick coughed. "Yes, I had heard that as well. I thought I would stop here on my way to New Orleans to check on the..." he looked at a note he had pulled from his pocket, "Hundley's Rowdies."

Now Hundley laughed. "Well don't that beat all? A Yankee has heard of our little club. Wait til I tell the boys - ol' Felix Tait will never believe it. Now there's a fellow who hates Yankees with a passion. It's a good thing it isn't him you're visiting. You'd be running up the road with a backside full of buckshot, mister."

Chadwick shuddered. "I'll keep that in mind should I ever run into Mr. Tait."

Both men shared a laugh - Hundley's hearty and rich, Chadwick's slightly nervous. Chadwick continued, "So, is it true then? You have your own club?"

Hundley, still laughing, said, "Oh, yes. We have a club. Not sure we'd measure up to the Knickerbockers, or those fellows in Chicago.. did I tell you my wife is from Chicago?... anyway, we do have a club and take on some of the locals around Alabama and Georgia."

Chadwick got a conniving look in his eye. "Have you considered branching out? Maybe playing those clubs in New Orleans?"

"Oh, I don't think we'd make that trip. Who would pay the cost of the train?"

Chadwick leaned forward. "Why not charge admission to the games?"

Hundley sat back and was silent. Obviously Chadwick had put an idea in his mind.

[legendsport]

Worthington Plantation, Chicot County, Arkansas, October 1, 1870:

The pitch sailed in and the man at the bat swung hard. The ball soared into the sky, over the heads of the men in the field. The batter looked at it, bat in hand.

"Run, Jasper!" the onlookers all shouted, nearly in unison.

Jasper held up the bat. "Now why'd I do that? I've got two more strikes a-coming, don't I?"

Out in the distant field, someone retrieved the ball and threw it back towards the infield.

"Jasper, you need to run!"

"No, I want my two strikes."

Now the ball was in the infield, where the baserunner was tagged out.

"Jasper, you are a plum fool!" the man said as he jogged off the field.

Jasper looked confused. His brother James strolled over to him, chuckling.

"Jasper, you are supposed to run after you strike the ball," he explained while trying not to laugh in his brother's face.

"You tell 'im Jim! He's gonna cost us the match!"

James turned and, glaring, shot back, "Now you hush up. When you can smash the ball a mile, then you can flap them gums. Until then, you just be quiet."

James continued to explain the game to his younger brother. Though Jasper was but 15 years old, the youngster showed a prodigious talent for the game - and an equally prodigious lack of knowledge of the rules.

"Jim, you know we only get to play on Saturdays. It's back in the fields come Monday."

James shot another angry look. "I know that you fool. Hell, we all know that. Now will you shut up while I explain this to Jasper?"

Jasper was puzzled. "Why should I run? I have two more strikes, James."

James calmly explained the rules to his brother - again. Jasper was physically gifted, but his mental aptitude had never really developed. Of course, as slaves, all Mr. Worthington cared about was how strong their backs were - their intelligence was of no moment to the man.

Elishu Worthington owned 500 slaves and James doubted if he even knew James and Jasper's names, let alone anything else about them. Thinking about Mr. Worthington made James think back on the time, eight years ago now, that old George - father to James and Jasper - had been heard wishing for a Yankee victory in the war. Mr. Worthington had not liked that, not at all. And just like that, old George had been sold to someone in Louisiana.

James wondered if he'd ever see his father again. At least he had Jasper - and they both had their Saturday afternoon base ball matches. Now if Jasper could just learn the rules...

[rocknfire7]

Great read. Even better if read with the appropriate accents.

[legendsport]

from the Chicago Herald, April 12, 1870:

The Presidential Mansion today hosted a base ball game for the first time. During the War of Secession, then-President Abraham Lincoln allowed soldiers camping on the grounds of the Executive Mansion in Washington City to play base ball.

Though Washington City is now part of the Confederate states and the Executive Mansion is in Columbia (the former Columbus, Ohio), the current President, Horatio Seymour, offered his grounds for a match between a local base ball club and a team comprised of members of Congress. Seymour acted as umpire.

At the conclusion of the match, won by the Columbia squad by a score of 38-11, the President remarked, "This was an excellent opportunity for the government to show the people that despite the troubles our nation faces, there is still time for recreation."

Further proof of the growing power of base ball as a spectacle for the common citizen was the sizable crowd on hand to watch the match. Indeed, the local club which played against the Congressional contingent, known as the Union Club of Columbia, will compete in several scheduled matches with clubs around the nation, with admission charged. How well this experiment will succeed in nation with economic issues, remains to be seen.

[legendsport]

from the New York Herald, June 22, 1871

A MODEL GAME OF BASE-BALL

Brilliant and exciting contest in Brooklyn between the Chicago and Columbia Nines - A Capital and Well-Played Match - The Chicagos Victorious By 8-4 Margin

Yesterday afternoon fully 3,000 people visited the Union Ball Grounds, Brooklyn, to witness the contest between the Union Club of Columbia and the "Excelsiors" of Chicago, and as due publicity was given the fact of the half-dollar admission fee, the attendance of so large a crowd on the occasion may be fairly regarded as a practical endorsement of the new rule of charging fifty cents admission fee on all occasions of first-class contests between top nines. It is questionable whether a single man present at the match yesterday would have hesitated to pay a dollar admission were he to know the top brand of exciting base ball he was to witness. Beyond all doubt this was the best example of base ball played at the Union Grounds to date, and is a fitting example of the effort of some to brand these nines as "professional" and pay the ball players for their efforts.

[legendsport]

from the New Orleans Times-Picayune, May 20, 1871:

BASE BALL

There was a contest of base ball played here yesterday between the Lee Club and the Pelican Club, with the Pelican Club victorious by a tally of 5-2. This is not news in and of itself; what makes it newsworthy is that the contest marked the first within the confines of the Amateur Base Ball Association of the Confederacy. The ABBAC is a brand-new sporting endeavor organized by Colonel D.R. Hundley of Montgomery, Alabama. The ABBAC is charging admission to contests between its member clubs, which number only four: the aforementioned Lees and Pelicans of New Orleans, plus Hundley's own Montgomery "Rowdies" and the St. Louis Amateur Base Ball Club, nicknamed the Grays.

The clubs are not limited to contests with other ABBAC members; they may make matches with any other amateur club. The players, as amateurs, are not paid - all proceeds go to the ABBAC and are used to pay for equipment and rental of the grounds, with anything left over being earmarked for the Confederate Widows and Orphans Fund.