CHAPTER XXXII. THE REVOLT OF THE BROTHERHOOD.

The playing strength of the League teams of 1889 was remarkably even; that is to say, on paper. Detroit had dropped out and Cleveland had taken its place in the ranks, four of the old Detroit players going to Boston, one to Philadelphia, three to Pittsburg, and the balance to Cleveland. The Boston Club had been the greatest gainer by the deal, however, and the majority of the "fans" looked for it to carry off the pennant. Once more the unexpected happened, however, and, though it took the games of the very last day of the season to settle the standing of the first six clubs, the pennant finally went to New York for the second time, they winning 83 games and losing 43, while Boston came next with the same number of games won and 45 lost, and Chicago stood third with 65 games won and 65 lost, Philadelphia, Pittsburg, Cleveland, Indianapolis and Washington following in the order named.

The Chicago team of that year consisted of Tener, Dwyer, Hutchinson and Gumbert, pitchers; Farrell, Darling, Sommers and Flint, catchers; Pfeffer, Burns, Bastian, Williamson and myself in the infield; and Van Haltren, Ryan and Duffy, outfielders. I was the manager and captain. It was not until late in the season that Williamson recovered sufficiently from the injury that he had received at Paris to join us, and his absence hurt our chances very materially, as the old "stone wall" infield was left in a crippled condition.

That fall the Brotherhood Revolt, that robbed the League of many of its best players, took place, and though the reasons for this have been variously stated, yet I am of the opinion that it could be all summed up by the one word, "greed," for that was certainly the corner stone of the entire structure. It has also been said that the plan of the Brotherhood was perfected by the ringleaders therein during the around-the-world trip, and it may be that this is true, but if such was the case the whole affair was kept remarkably quiet, for it was not until away late in the season that I was aware of the intended secession of the players, I then being approached by John M. Ward with a proposal to join them, a proposal that I declined with thanks, giving as my reason that the League had always treated me fairly and honestly up to that time, and that such being the case I could see no reason why I should leave them in an underhand manner. The truth of the matter is, that I felt bound in honor to stand by my friends, even if I sank with them, and at that time the skies did look remarkably dark and it was a question in my mind as to what would be the outcome. The fact that the majority of the League clubs had the season before made a great deal of money excited the cupidity of certain capitalists, and they, finding the players dissatisfied over some minor grievances, incited them to revolt, hoping to use them as catspaws with which to pull the financial chestnuts out of the fire.

The Brotherhood was a secret organization, and one that was originally formed by the promoters with the object of protecting the ball players in their rights, and not for the purpose of disrupting the old League and forming a new one in opposition, as it afterwards attempted to do. It first made itself felt in the fall of 1887, when it compelled the League to draw up a new form of contract; in which the rights of the players were better understood than under the form that had previously been used. When the new contract was adopted the full amount of each player's salary could not be written therein, because of the National Agreement, which contained a $2,000 salary limit clause, and as the American Association Clubs would not allow this to be stricken out the players were greatly displeased, they having to sign contracts at $2,000, and make outside contracts for all compensation over that amount that they received. Threats as to what the Brotherhood would do were freely made at that time, but nothing came of them. At the annual meeting in 1888, the Indianapolis, Pittsburg and Washington Clubs demanded of the League a scheme that would limit players' salaries, which had grown to enormous proportions, and the result was that a classification rule, which divided the players into five classes, as follows: Class A, to receive $2,500; Class B, $2,250; Class C, $2,000; Class D, $1,750, and class E, $1,500, it being agreed among the clubs, however, that this classification should not apply to players with whom they then had agreements, or to players with whom they should make agreements, or to whom they felt under moral obligations to do so, previous to December 15th, 1888, and it was also provided that the players then absent on the world's trip should be accorded two weeks after their return in which to arrange matters before they should be subject to classification.

We were abroad at that time, but the players at home remonstrated strongly against the classification, claiming that in a few years it would have a tendency to lower the salaries very materially, but the absence of John M. Ward, who was the Brotherhood leader, prevented any official action by the organization. When Mr. Ward reached, home again contracts had been signed and nothing could be done, though it is now known that he favored a strike at that time, but was out-voted by the cooled-headed members of the order. In the meantime the New Yorks had agreed to release the Brotherhood leader to Washington for the sum of $12,000, the largest sum ever offered for the release of a player, but Ward's flat-footed refusal to play in the National Capital team caused the deal to fall through.

In the meantime the discontented players had appointed a committee to present their grievances to the League, and President Young appointed a League committee to hear the players, of which committee A. G. Spalding was chairman, but when an immediate hearing was asked for by Mr. Ward, Mr. Spalding declined to meet the Brotherhood players until fall. This, according to the players' story, was the last straw that broke the camel's back, and from that time on they began, but with the greatest secrecy, to arrange their plans for secession.

Having ascertained what was going on in the meantime, I used what influence I possessed in trying to dissuade such of my players as was possible from taking what I then regarded as a foolish step, and though I managed to find some of them that would listen to me there were others who would not, Pfeffer, Tener and Williamson being among the number, though they made no move openly looking toward desertion until after the playing season was over.

On the fourth day of November, 1899, the Brotherhood met at the Fifth Avenue Hotel and threw off the mask, issuing the following address to the public:

"At last the Brotherhood of base-ball players feels at liberty to make known its intentions and defend itself against the aspersions and misrepresentations which for weeks it has been forced to suffer in silence. It is no longer a secret that the players of the League have determined to play next season under different management, but for reasons which will, we think, be understood, it was deemed advisable to make no announcement of this intention until the close of the present season. But now that the struggle for the various pennants is over, and the terms of our contracts expired, there is no longer reason for withholding it. In taking this step we feel that we owe it to the public and to ourselves to explain briefly some of the reasons by which we have been moved. There was a time when the League stood for integrity and fair dealing; to-day it stands for dollars and cents. Once it looked to the elevation of the game and an honest exhibition of the sport. To-day its eyes are upon the turnstile. Men have come into the business for no other motive than to exploit it for every dollar in sight. Measures originally intended for the good of the game have been turned into instruments for wrong. The reserve rule and the provisions of the national agreement gave the managers unlimited power, and they have not hesitated to use this in the most arbitrary and mercenary way.

"Players have been bought, sold and exchanged, as though they were sheep, instead of American citizens. Reservation became with them another name for property-rights in the player. By a combination among themselves, stronger than the strongest trusts, they were able to enforce the most arbitrary measures, and the player had either to submit or get out of the profession, in which he had spent years in attaining proficiency. Even the disbandment and retirement of a club did not free the players from the octopus clutch, for they were then peddled around to the highest bidder.

"That the players sometimes profited by the sale has nothing to do with the case, but only proves the injustice of the previous restraint. Two years ago we met the League and attempted to remedy some of these evils, but through what had been called League 'diplomacy' we completely failed. Unwilling longer to submit to such treatment, we made a strong effort last spring to reach an understanding with the League. To our application for a hearing they replied 'that the matter was not of sufficient importance to warrant a meeting,' and suggested that it be put off until fall. Our committee replied that the players felt that the League had broken faith with them; that while the results might be of little importance to the managers, they were of great importance to the players; that if the League would not concede what was fair we would adopt other measures to protect ourselves; that if postponed until fall we would be separated and at the mercy of the League, and that, as the only course left us required time and labor to develop, we must therefore insist upon an immediate conference. Then upon their final refusal to meet us, we began organizing for ourselves, and are in shape to go ahead next year under new management and new auspices. We believe it is possible to conduct our National game upon lines which will not infringe upon individual and natural rights. We ask to be judged solely by our work, and believing that the game can be played more fairly and its business conducted more intelligently under a plan which excludes everything arbitrary and un-American, we look forward with confidence to the support of the public and the future of the National game. (Signed) THE NATIONAL BROTHERHOOD OF BALL PLAYERS."

The Players' League, as finally organized, embraced the cities of Boston, Brooklyn, New York and Philadelphia, in the East, and Buffalo, Chicago, Cleveland and Pittsburg in the West. According to the articles under which this league was formed its government rested in a central board composed of its president, and two directors, one a player and one a capitalist from each club.

Any player who was dissatisfied with his location could apply to the board to be transferred without the payment of anything to the club losing his services. All contracts were to be made for three years and no player could be released until after the first year had expired, and not then if he had kept his agreements and was still able and willing to play good ball. Severe penalties were provided for drunkenness and crookedness, and all profits from ground privileges, such as refreshments, score-cards, cigars, etc., belonged to each individual club. It was also provided that all players were to have the same salaries that they had had in 1889, save such as had been cut down by the classification system, and they were to be paid the same salaries as in 1888, the same to be increased at the option of the club engaging them.

This on paper looked to be a great scheme, but what it lacked was business brains in its management, and as a result its career was a short and stormy one, it being war to the knife and the knife to the hilt between the two great rival organizations. After four courts had decided that the players had a right to leave the National League, each of the clubs located in the Players' League signed a compact to play with that organization for ten years. The National League then formed a schedule of playing dates that conflicted with the Players' League all through the season of 1890, this action throwing both clubs and public into confusion, the latter becoming so disgusted over the war of the rival factions as to stay away from the games altogether. At the end of the season the Players' League bought the Cincinnati Club, and as the Pittsburg Club was all but defunct, this left the National League with but six clubs.

At the close of the championship season a conference was held and plans agreed upon for ending the war, which had been financially disastrous to both parties. Committees were appointed by both Leagues and by the American Association having this end in view, but the Players' League, at a special meeting added three professional players to its committee, and the National League refused to join in the conference. Secret meetings between the capitalists of the Players' League and the National League were held, with the result that the rival clubs in New York, Pittsburg and Chicago were consolidated, this causing the disruption of the Brotherhood.

Looked at from a financial standpoint the contrast between the seasons of 1889 and 1890 was a great one. The year 1889 was the most successful that the League had ever known, and the money fairly poured in at the gate. The year 1890, on the contrary, was one of the most disastrous that the League had ever known, and on many occasions the clubs found themselves playing to almost empty benches.

The defection of Tener, Williamson, Ryan, Pfeffer and others left me with a comparatively green team on my hands, when the season of 1890 opened, but long before the season came to a close constant practice had made it one of the best teams in the League, as it proved by finishing in the second place. Few people, however, appreciate the amount of work that was necessary to attain that result. It was hard work and plenty of it, and though some of the players objected to the amount of practice forced upon them, and the strict discipline that was enforced, yet they had to put up with it, as that was the only manner in which the necessary playing strength could be developed. I myself worked just as hard as they did. If we took a three-mile run, I was at their head setting the pace for them. I have never asked the men under my control to do anything that I was not willing to do myself, because it was just as necessary for me to be in good condition as it was for them.

The Chicagos of 1890 were made up as follows: Hutchinson, Luby and Stein, pitchers; Nagle and Kittridge, catchers; Anson, first base; Glenalvin, second base; Burns, third base; Cooney, shortstop; Carroll, left field; Andrews, right field; and O'Brien, Earle and Foster substitutes.

It will thus be seen that I had but one of the "old reliables" left, that being Burns, who had refused to affiliate with the Brotherhood, and who was to receive his reward later on at the hands of the Chicago Club management. The rest of the team was composed of a lot of half-broken "colts," many of whom were newcomers in the League, and with a reputation yet to make, Hutchinson, Cooney and Wilmot being the pick of the bunch.

There was never a time during this season that we were worse than fifth, and on several, occasions we were right up in the front rank. When October arrived we were in the third place, but during the short season that followed we passed Philadelphia and took second position. Brooklyn carried off the pennant with a total of 86 games won and 43 lost, while Chicago had 83 games won and 53 lost, Philadelphia being third with 78 games won and 53 lost, while Cincinnati, Boston, New York, Cleveland and Pittsburg followed in that order.

This was an achievement to be proud of, and with the downfall of the Brotherhood and the consolidation of some of the leading clubs I naturally thought that the Chicago team would be strengthened very materially, but such was not the case. I did not even get my old players back, those of them that continued in the profession being scattered far and wide among the other League clubs, while others retired from the arena altogether. As a result it was a constant hustle on my part to secure new players, and I think I may easily say that the hardest years of my managerial experience were those that followed the revolt of the Brotherhood, continuing until my retirement from the Chicago Club at the close of 1897, at which time I was the owner of one hundred and thirty shares of the club's stock, which from the time of Mr. Hart's connection with it has been worthless so far as I am concerned, and simply because...