A catcher for a decade, and his record shows him as not much of an offensive force – so he must have been fearless, mobile and the owner of a cannon throwing arm, right?  (Well, he was fearless and he had a fairly good arm.  The rest of his story follow…)

John Thomas Arundel was born June 30, 1862 in Auburn, New York to Thomas and Ellen Arundel, both Irish immigrants who arrived in the US in the late 1840s.  John was the fouth of seven children born to the laborer and his wife.  Before his baseball career, and with an education that couldn’t have gone further than the eighth grade, he was working as a mason tender.  He learned baseball on the side, though, and Arundel’s toughness fit the role of catcher.  In time, he was hired to ply his trade there instead.

The Auburn, NY native got a tryout after spending time with a team in Atlantic City.  The Philadelphia Athletics gave him and a pitcher, Ed Halbriter, an opportunity to face the Philadelphia Phillies in an exhibition game and both played well in a 6 – 5 extra-inning win.  In fact, Arundel threw out two Phillies who were trying to steal and only made one error.  The very next day, the same battery were allowed to face the St. Louis Brown Stockings in a major league game.  A catcher playing in back to back games is normal – doing that to a pitcher who had just tossed ten innings seemed a bit harsh, but that’s the 1880s for you… Halbriter was less accurate – three wild pitches and a curve ball that no longer bit – and Arundel struggled with Halbriter’s wildness.  It didn’t help that Arundel also struck out four times in five at bats.  So, instead of staying with the Athletics, he’d play for the Merritts in Camden, NJ. Articles noted alternate behaviors – one game throwing out four players who were trying to steal; in another leaving his team between the second and third inning because he found out he would be released by the Merritts, so he quit mid-game.

For the next nine years, he would bounce between major and minor league teams.  In 1883, he was signed by a team in Saginaw, Michigan.  That should have ended when Arundel, called “a slugger of the most disgraceful type…”, brutally assaulted outfielder Mike Mansell.  Instead, Saginaw brought him back for 1884, then gave up on him, allowing Arundel to play for Peoria for 17 games. Then, in an odd twist of fate, the Northwestern League folded in August and Arundel wound up on Toledo with Mansell.

Arundel was not one for good decisions.  He was a heavy drinker; when drunk he was abusive in language, attitude, and decorum.  And he could be rather combative on the field, too.  Despite this, people loved the guy.  Here’s a quote from the Memphis Avalanche in 1885 that pretty much explains what it must have been like to have Tug on the team.

“A subscription list is being taken the rounds to get up money enough to pay Tug Arundel’s $50 fines, which (umpire) Young gave him. A big part of it was raised last night. Tug is very popular in Memphis. and deservedly so, as he won’t stand any ‘monkey business,’ and besides is a very hard working and conscientious player.”

“Diamond Dust,” Daily Memphis Avalanche, August 2, 1885: 4

People loved him, but couldn’t wait to get rid of him.  He played with two teams in 1885 and four teams in 1886.  The longest he stayed with a single team was his time with Indianapolis in 1887.  Indianapolis was in the National League, owned by newspaperman Horace Fogel, but the onfield management was apparently pretty lax in the handling of players, including Arundel.  One June night, he disabused opposing players, women, police officers and teammates alike, getting a $100 fine from his team, a $62 fine from the city court, and a suspension.  (He wasn’t alone in the drinking and bad behavior part, but he was the only one who was inordinately violent that night.)  The manager was fired and Fogel himself took over the team.  Somehow, Arundel survived the season despite hitting .197.  When he held out for more money the next spring, Fogel refused to sign him.

Then you have this onfield incident when he was with Washington in 1888.

“During the New York-Washington game in this city, Sept. 27, ‘Tug’ Arundel was guilty of as ‘dirty’ a piece of work as has been seen on the Polo Grounds this season. In the fourth inning Arundel popped up a ball that was coming down on fair grounds, and Brown ran over and was standing prepared to catch the ball when Arundel, who was passing him on the way to first base, deliberately pushed Brown and made him drop the ball. Of course Umpire Valentine immediately called him (Arundel) out, which was perfectly proper, but he should also have imposed a $25 fine on him, as a reminder not to repeat such a trick in the future. He should be taught a lesson that he is in baseball to elevate it, and not do all he can to lower it. It would be better for the game if the baseball magnates would weed out of the professional ranks all such players, or in fact any man who will persist in ‘dirty work’ on the ball field.”

“America’s Game,” New York Clipper, October 6, 1888.

Good times. Washington didn’t want him back so it was back to being a minor league nomad and abusive drinker until 1891 when teams finally had enough.

“Tug’s propensities, however, could not be controlled, and he sank to the level of a sot, and finally passed from even the minds of the public.”

“The Scramble for Pitchers,” Indianpolis Journal, April 11, 1898: 6.

A few stories followed Arundel after his playing days were over.  Tim Murnane, who pitched to Arundel with Toledo in 1884, said a foul tip once richocheted off Arundel’s head toward fair territory where third baseman Foghorn Miller made the catch for an out.  In another story that doesn’t have a box score that would corroborate it (or, for that matter, a consistent telling of the story), Frank “Piggy” Ward once got into an insult match at home plate during a game against Arundal’s Washington team.  Arundal’s final shot was to tell Ward that if he got the chance to tag him, he would break Ward’s ribs.  Ward missed strike three and Arundel deliberately dropped the third strike so that he could tag Ward out.  He started chasing Ward to first base, then to second and onward – one heavy catcher chasing a heavy batter named “Piggy.”  They continuted all the way to home plate – and Arundel never caught Ward.  Oh – and the bases were loaded, so four runs scored on a dropped third strike.  This tall tale was created by Furman Bisher (originally he said it was Walter Brodie who was the batter; Piggy Ward made the story funnier) and then retold into the 1940s.

Here’s a story that might be true…  In the weeks following Gabby Street’s successful catch of a baseball dropped from the Washington Monument, stories came out in Indianapolis talking about how Horace Fogel once dropped baseballs toward the brash Arundel, who claimed he could catch one in 1887.  Fogel admitted that Arundel wasn’t successful – many of the balls landed several feet away from Arundel, and the one Arundel got a glove on (he was wearing a padded glove with extra cotton underneath for more padding) didn’t stick.  Fogel said, “Arundel, if I remember aright, only succeeded in getting his hands on one ball and it almost tore them from his wrists.” We’ll return to the catcher’s glove in a minute.

Anyway – Arundel’s ten seasons as a professional resulted in his playing in just 76 major league games for four teams (Philadelphia, Toledo in 1884, Indianapolis in 1887, and sharing time behind the plate with Connie Mack in Washington for 1888); essentially a half season of ball.  He batted .173 with a sub-.200 slugging percentage.  That’s some poor hitting.

It’s hard to say what Tug did after his playing days.  In the 1905 New York census he’s retired and living with his mother.  No woman in her right mind would marry him…

In later years, he claimed his ideas were used in the development of the catchers mitt used in the years after Tug retired.  One article claimed Tug wore a padded glove in 1885 and 1886 while catching pitcher Tom Ramsey in Chattanooga, the first such catcher’s mitt seen in the south. (What works against the article is that I don’t see where Ramsey and Arundel were ever on the same team in the south.)  A different article notes that he wore a leather tipped glove, but made no mention of padding.  It did say, however, that fans routinely laughed at Arundel when he wore his pillows onto the field.  It seems likely Arundel’s use of a glove when catching – whether his idea or that of someone else – legitimately happened and the use of a glove remained connected with Arundel for years after he played.

He died in the Willard State hospital in Romulus, NY on September 5, 1912, having recently turned 50.  Arundel had been hospitalized by strokes; the last one left him paralyzed and he died a few hours later.  He would be buried in St. Joseph’s Cemetery in Fleming, NY.

Notes:

1855, 1905 NY Censuses
1870, 1880, 1910 US Censuses

“Ten Innings,” Philadelphia Inquirer, May 23, 1882: 3.
“Laid Out Again,” Philadelphia Inquirer, May 24, 1882: 2.
“Sporting News,” Buffalo Express, March 16, 1882: 3.
“The Ball Field,” Philadelphia Times, May 27, 1882: 2.
“The Canadians Win,” Camden Post, August 14, 1882: 1.
“Active, 12; Merritt, 6,” Reading Times, August 26, 1882: 1.
“Notes,” Fort Wayne Daily News, June 1, 1883: 1.
“A Saginaw Bully,” Fort Wayne Sentinel, August 4, 1883: 3.
Box Score, Detroit Free Press, June 8, 1884: 11.
“Stray Hits,” Boston Globe, August 12, 1884: 5.
“Beaten Again,” Memphis Daily Appeal, August 12, 1885: 2.
“Ball-Players In Disgrace,” Indianapolis Journal, June 29, 1887: 3.
“A Dip Into the Misty Past,” The Sporting Life, August 19, 1905: 3.
“Continued Rain Blocks Local Ball; Another Young Twirler Joins Nationals,” The Evening Star, August 28, 1908: 13.
“Here. There. Elsewhere,” Memphis Commercial Appeal, July 19, 1910: 10.
“A Freak Play,” Fall River Globe, May 2, 1919: 5.
Furman Bisher, “Bish’s Dish,” Charlotte News, May 26, 1949: 9B, 10B.
“Mitt Introduced by Tug Arundel,” Chattanooga News, March 30, 1932: 13.
“Tug Arundel Dies of Paralysis,” Fort Worth Record, September 6, 1912: 8.
“Famous Athlete Dies in Auburn,” Buffalo Commercial, September 9, 1912: 6.

John Young Radcliff arrived June 29, 1848 in Philadelphia to John and Mary (Young) Radcliff – though an 1850 US Census record suggests he might have been born in 1846 instead. Father John was a Delaware-born trunkmaker who moved his family to Camden to start a business dealing in produce.  Mother Mary worked at the family homestead raising five children. By 1870, this third child, John, would be working with his father; by 1880 it would be that child’s career.

Philadelphia was a great sports town after the Great War for Slavery and John Radcliff was a competent athlete.  By 1867, he was the catcher on the professional Philadelphia Athletic Club, alongside Al Reach, Wes Fisler, Ed Cuthbert, Count Sensenderfer, and the other early stars of Philadelphia baseball.  He remained with the Athletics, despite efforts made by Radcliff to find better paying clubs.  In fact, while on a western baseball trip in 1868, Radcliff was working a deal to play for the Mutuals of New York.  He was induced to stay in Philadelphia when his club raised $500 to help him pay off any obligations he may have had in trying to work his deal with New York.  Radcliff may have kept some of that money for himself.  And, while he was negotiating with New York, he was also trying to work a deal to join the Cincinnati club – the team that in 1869 would go on its historic undefeated season.  When he signed to stay with the Athletic Club, he actually had a train ticket to go to Cincinnati in his pocket.  In March of 1869, Radcliff was kicked out of the Athletic Club and rules and resolutions were created to address Radcliff’s “dishonest behavior.”

Despite this, Radcliff mended fences.  In 1870 he moved to shortstop for the Athletics, though he occasionally would catch.  When the National Association created the first professional “major league” in 1871, Radcliff played rather well on the pennant winning Philadelphia Athletic club, batting .303 with some power (though no home runs) and an above average On Base Percentage.  A year later, he was with Baltimore where he would spend two years on competitive teams.  The 1872 team photo is below – the rather intense looking guy seated in the middle, second from left, is Radcliff.  You can’t see this in the image, but those jerseys were bright yellow, and those socks were loud for the era.  The team fittingly was nicknamed the Canaries.

Radcliff returned to Philadelphia to join the Whites in 1874, though primarily playing in the outfield.  In the summer of that season, Radcliff was accused of working with umpire William McLean to help throw a game to Chicago – claiming that his brother, Samuel, was placing a bet of $300 against his team and he had three other players who were helping throw the game.  While a review of the incident left some doubt as to whether Radcliff was innocent or guilty, the decision came down as guilty and Radcliffe was expelled from the National Association (again).  And, again, he was given another chance to play.  In 1875, he signed to play for the Centennials of Philadelphia.  Where once he was an infielder with a fairly good bat, he was now a poor hitting infielder on a team about to go out of business.

In a May 19, 1875 game against his former Philadelphia Whites team, he made three bad throws in succession to first base from his position at shortstop.  “Had Radcliff played a good game, it is doubtful if the Philadelphia would have won at all, as the others did as well as was expected,” wrote a reporter for the Philadelphia Inquirer.  At least nobody questioned whether the throws were purposely bad.  The Centennials lost that game, 7 – 4.  Five days later, the Centennials were out of business – and with that, Radcliff focused on the family poultry business.

John married Abraetta Munyan in Camden in 1879; they had four children. Hazel, Emma, and John, Jr., as well as Oslyn, who died in 1894 before her third birthday.

The Radcliffs were very successful in the poultry dealing business, amassing considerable family wealth.  John would spend portions of his summers in Ocean City, NJ, occasionally making the social articles of local newspapers when visiting.  John became a member of the Trimble Lodge of Masons and the Order of United American Mechanics. The latter group was known for advancing political positions to prevent American business owners from hiring new immigrants who could be paid far lower wages and to only do business with American companies.

Radcliffe died of a paralytic stroke on the morning of July 26, 1911.  He had been out fishing with friends the day before while staying at a resort in Ocean City, NJ with his wife and three children. He was about to board a boat at the Ocean City yacht club when he pitched over and fell; this third stroke was considerably worse than previous episodes. When a physician reached the scene a few minutes later, he pronounced Radcliff dead.  His remains were returned to Camden, where he was buried in Harleigh Cemetery.

Notes:

1850, 1870, 1900, 1910 US Census
NJ Marriage Index
NJ Death Index
Baseball-Reference.com
FindAGrave.com

William J. Ryczek. “Blackguards and Red Stockings” (Kindle Version), McFarland, 2016.

To note, Ryczek’s book is great.  I skimmed around for Radcliff in the book, finding his discussion of the 1874 gambling scandal.  From there, I went and hit the newspapers and found two articles that listed specific details that are cited below.  I wouldn’t have looked for them were it not for this book.

“Our Invincibles,” Philadelphia Inquirer, August 21, 1867: 1.
“The Athletic Base Ball Club – A Match,” Philadelphia Inquirer, May 11, 1868: 2.
“Sports and Pastimes,” Brooklyn Union, March 10, 1869: 1.
“The Athletic Club vs. John Radcliff, Jr.,” New York Clipper, March 20, 1869.
“Base Ball,” Philadelphia Inquirer, November 11, 1870: 3.
“Sporting News,” Chicago Tribune, September 2, 1874: 8.
“Base Ball,” Philadelphia Inquirer, September 9, 1874: 2.
“The Base Ball Field,” Philadelphia Times, May 20, 1875: 4.
“John Radcliff Dies Suddenly,” Camden Daily Courier, July 26, 1911: 11.
“Former Ball Player Dead,” Asbury Park Press, July 27, 1911: 2.
Frank Fitzpatrick, “Ghosts of Summer,” Philadelphia Inquirer, October 27, 2013: E2.  (1872 Canaries image from here, as well as suggestions to look harder for Radcliff stories during the 1870s.)

John A. Kull (possibly born as John Andrew Kolonauski on June 24, 1882 in Shenandoah, PA) was a Pennsylvania low level pitching legend (20 – 6 with Pottsville in 1909 and a teammate of Rivington Bisland) “…taken out of the mines…” and turned into an ace pitcher.  Kull was once compared to Rube Waddell (so many people were, to be honest, but none was even close) earning him a contract with Connie Mack in the summer of 1909.  Despite a fairly good fastball, Kull wasn’t ready so he spent most of the late summer with Fayetteville of the Carolina League before being returned to Philadelphia.  On the last day of the 1909 season, Mack let him pitch in relief for game one of that day’s double header.  (The team was out of the pennant chase, losing the division by three games to Detroit.)

Anyway, Washington just pulled out in front 4 – 1 in the top of the sixth and Kull was sent in to pitch the last three innings.  In the seventh, the Athletics managed to scramble four runs together off of Walter Johnson, capped by a two-run single by none other than Kull himself.  While Kull gave up the tying run in the eighth, Philadelphia scored again in the bottom of the eighth and Kull kept Washington off the board in the ninth.  So – that was it.  One MLB game on October 2, 1909, a big hit off the Big Train, and a relief win.

As an aside, Kull did have something in common with Rube Waddell – a chance encounter with Andy Coakley.  One of Kull’s rare losses with Pottsville was a 2 – 1 loss in twelve innings to Reading, a game won by Andy Coakley.

The rest of Kull’s life was less glamorous but still interesting; a low-level minor league or semi-pro gig here or there until his arm was used up.  He was initially dispatched to Youngstown in the Ohio-Pennsylvania League, then he toured a number of New Jersey and Pennsylvania teams in what used to be known as the Atlantic League.  On the more confusing side, Kull appears to have been right-handed (John’s handedness is listed as left on Baseball-Reference.com), and was also given a shot with the Phillies in 1912, only to find out that his arm was injured (or possibly not up to the task of being a major league pitcher, giving Kull an excuse for not making the team and needing time before he returned to his current club).  In 1913, after playing with Newport News in the Virginia League, he was pitching for the Danbury Hatters in the New York/New Jersey League when Danbury signed a catcher named Jack Cameron, who could also pitch.  According to Ernest Landsgraf, in Cameron’s first game behind the plate, he caught a no-hitter thrown by Kull.  Days later, given a chance to pitch, Cameron threw his own no-hitter.  This appears to have taken place during one particularly strong stretch where Kull threw 48 innings and allowed just six hits.  The Highlanders were allegedly interested in Kull but nothing materialized.

His marriage seems to have ended without a divorce; perhaps documentation exists that tells us when they married and, more importantly, who he married. Or if they had kids…  By the 1930s his wife was in Newark, NJ and once wrote to friends in Shenandoah, PA that she thought John was killed in a mining accident, but didn’t know for sure.  An Elizabeth Kull appears in the Newark, NJ City Directory in 1934 claiming to be the widow of John Kull.  Maybe that’s her.  Alcoholism helped destroy his life, literally and figuratively.  In the end, he was wandering around homeless until he landed in a almshouse in Schuykill Haven, PA where he died on March 30, 1936 of tuberculosis.  His body was sent to his wife in New Jersey and he is buried in Hollywood Cemetery in Union. Obituaries said he was 50; he was actually 54.

There are some fun things out there if you want to search for them. For starters, his FindaGrave.com page says that his birth name was John A. Kolonauski (if I were to guess, the A stands for Andrew); his death certificate lists his father’s name as Andrew without a last name and no mother’s name was listed.  The FindaGrave page also says that Kull is the only MLB player with a perfect fielding record (no errors, one assist), perfect won-lost percentage (1-0) and perfect batting average (1.000).  In fact, Kull is one of three players who meet that criteria, along with Bobby Korecky and Cody Edge.  It was true, however, until the 2010s.

Notes:

PA Death Certificates
Links provided to FindaGrave.com profile and Baseball-Reference.com profiles.

“Reading Takes Two From Pottsville,” Reading Times, June 21, 1909: 5.
“Pottsville Going at a Phenomenal Pace,” Philadelphia Inquirer, July 4, 1909: 18.
“Notes of Sports,” Pittston Gazette, July 26, 1909: 5.
“Steelmen Beaten by Good Playing,” Akron Beacon Journal, July 4, 1910: 6.
“Dooin Signs Johnny Kull,” Shenandoah Evening Herald, May 10, 1912: 2.
“Three New Pitchers,” Greenville News, May 22, 1912: 2
“Pitched Into Big League,” The Longbranch Daily Record, September 10, 1913: 9.
“John Kull, Once Famed Ball Player, Is Dead,” Shenandoah Evening Herald, March 31, 1936: 4.
“Late Jack Kull is Remembered,” Shenandoah Evening Herald, April 7, 1936: 9.
Joe McCarron,”Inside Stuff,” The Morning Call (Allentown, PA), December 13, 1957: 43.

According to Wallace Bishop, it was self-defense. He and his friend, William Lyons, were approached by another tramp who complained about one thing or another. At some point, Bishop offered to buy the man a keg of beer that they could share while they camped at Ludlow Lagoon.

Ludlow Lagoon was a newly created amusement park of sorts. A trolley line was looking for a way to drum up business so it invested in a project that dammed a river, creating an island dotted lake that would serve as a getaway for Cincinnati area residents. However, it also served as an outpost for the hobos, tramps, drifters, and criminals who were escaping from something, the law or even life, and did so by riding the trains that now connected the continental United States. Located on the edge of Covington, Kentucky, Ludlow Lagoon was close enough that someone could easily sneak onto a train at one or more of the nearby train stations, but far enough outside of town that lawmen wouldn’t necessarily mess with them.

After Bishop made his offer to buy him beer, the tramp had bickered enough. Bishop claimed that the tramp pulled out two revolvers and fired – one bullet grazing Bishop’s leg. Acting quickly, Bishop and Lyons were able to corral the tramp and Bishop wrested away one of the revolvers. His shot was direct and true – the tramp fell to the ground and died immediately. Now, Bishop and Lyons would have to hit the road again – rather, hit the rails again. Already fugitives from the law, being connected to a shooting would land them in prison if caught. They hopped on a green line trolley and headed for Cincinnati.

The sound of gunshots coming from Ludlow Lagoon alerted the local Covington, Kentucky police officers. They caught and surrounded the trolley, placing officers on both sides of the Roebling suspension bridge that crossed the Ohio River and connected the Covington with Cincinnati.  The trolley came to a stop in the middle of the bridge – and seeing as the bridge was now blocked on both ends, Bishop and Lyons looked for alternate escape routes.  They were out of time – a police officer was now boarding the trolley from the Kentucky side.

Patrolman William Thomas McQuery, a tall and sturdy man loaded with bravery, patience, and the type of temperment to deal with all kinds of pressure, boarded the trolley and, without noting the reason he was talking to the two men, asked Bishop and Lyons to quietly follow him off the train.  Bishop and Lyons, after acknowledging the request and claiming to be unarmed, got up from their seats and followed McQuery to the rear of the train.

As they reached the end of the car, Bishop reached for his revolver. Someone on the train screamed, “Look out!”  McQuery turned to his left as Bishop fired.  The bullet went through McQuery’s left arm into his side where it tore through intestines and finally left his right side.  It didn’t knock over the officer known as “Big Mox,” though.  The officer grabbed his own revolver and turned to return fire.  However, Lyons grabbed McQuery around both arms before he could raise one to aim at Bishop.  McQuery squeezed off two shots – one of them grazing Bishop on the leg.

Most of the other passengers stampeded off the other side of the trolley.

Despite the bleeding, Bishop was uninjured; he hopped off the trolley and looked for a way to escape.  Seeing no other reasonable option, the best choice for him was into the river.  He emptied his pockets and, keeping only a wallet and his revolver, hurried over the guardrail and jumped into the Ohio River – some 92 feet below.

That plan didn’t work either – as he reached the Kentucky shore, he was captured by other Covington officers.  He didn’t go easily, mind you. It was a desperate struggle between freedom and the law – won by the law.  Bishop was arrested and placed in the local jail.

As for McQuery, he was soon attended by the commissioner of the Covington Fire Department, who happened to be on the trolley when shots rang out.  Mox was quickly taken to a hospital in Cincinnati where doctors did what they could to stop the bleeding and, hopefully, arrest whatever infections would come from the gunshot.

At the Covington jail, Bishop told his captors that his name was William Burns – a name that matched the intials tattoeoed on his forearm.  Lyons, who was captured on the bridge, was also in jail.  And, like Bishop’s attempted use of the the name Burns, Lyons wasn’t the second man’s name.  Rather, police would later learn that his real name was Thomas Mulligan.

Another thing police would learn was that Bishop had not fired upon another drifter at Ludlow Lagoon in self-defense.  Five other drifters at Ludlow Lagoon were arrested and confirmed that the shooting victim was laying on the ground, likely sleeping, when fired upon.  Officers surmised Bishop must have known the other man, travelled in similar circles, and they had a falling out that Bishop chose to resolve with violence.  Newspapers wrote articles suggesting that Bishop and Mulligan were, in fact, “yeggmen.”  These were the modern version of the bank robbers of the previous generation – fearless and more prone to senseless violence, especially when it came to using heavy explosives to blow up safes.

Regardless of the circumstances of Bishop’s and Mulligan’s backgrounds or criminal history, they were arrested suspects charged with the murder of a fellow drifter and the attempted murder of a policeman.

What police would never learn was the identity of the killed drifter.  At first people suspected he was named McVey, but other McVey family members said the victim was not someone they knew.  Officers found a coat belonging to the victim containing various union mining or railway cards that suggested his name might have been W. J. Clark or David C. Collins.  However, they proved to be fake identities.  After a significant amount of effort, the victim was never identified nor claimed.  Eventually he was buried in a potter’s field at the county burial ground, near Independence, Kentucky.

As for McQuery, the initial thought was that McQuery would pass – but the constitution of this strong officer would not go without a fight.  Shot the evening of June 8, 1900, Big Mox showed signs of improvement.  On the morning of June 12th, when McQuery’s wife was given an update, the signs were very positive.  However, a few hours later, the infections in his intestines began doing deadly damage to McQuery’s system. Blood poisoning and peritonitis set in and by the afternoon Isabel McQuery watched her husband take his last breath.

By nightfall, the charges against Bishop and Mulligan were amended to include the murder of a policeman. In days, the newspapers would follow the story of McQuery’s death and Bishop’s trials – telling people about Bishop’s assumed past as a newspaper employee in St. Louis and McQuery’s known past as a major league first baseman.

William Thomas McQuery was born June 28, 1861 in Garrard County, Kentucky to Alexander S. McQuery and Margaret Jane Naylor.  William, named for both his paternal and maternal grandfathers, was the last of three children following two sisters born two and three years before him.  At the time, Alex worked his father’s farm in rural Garrard but soon after he would move toward Covington, a town on the other side of the Ohio River from Cincinnati.  He’d take on jobs as a plasterer and later as an employee for a safe factory while his wife took on raising three children.

The Cincinnati baseball teams of William McQuery’s youth were great – including the first professional team that went undefeated in 1869, and a large number of amateur teams that eventually spilled over the river into the Covington area.  The first time you see McQuery’s name in a box score is with the Kentons – a Covington based baseball team.  McQuery was a first baseman of some skill – a large target to throw at (he is listed as 6’1″ in your baseball encyclopedia but other articles suggested he was as tall as 6′ 4″), and a capable enough hitter to bat in the middle of the lineup.  This was 1883; in 1884, he joined his first professional team in Terre Haute, Indiana.  He chose Terre Haute over a similar offer from Evansville until he heard rumors that Evansville had financial issues.  When he wasn’t playing ball, William took up some of the jobs his father once had – as a plasterer or lather.

McQuery’s play at Terre Haute was given fair praise for his work at first base and his power potential – he had 18 extra base hits in his first summer professional season.  When the Union Association Cincinnati Reds needed a first baseman, they asked about McQuery, who likely was more than happy to play baseball closer to home (at least for home games).  Joining the team in August, he played 25 games to a .280 batting average, though with less power than he had shown in the minors.

The Union Association was over after the 1884 season, but McQuery’s career was just starting.  He first signed with Indianapolis, a very good minor league team looking to join the majors.  In 32 games for Indianapolis he upped his batting average to .292, and once again was courted by a major league team.  This time it was the National League’s Detroit Wolverines who picked up McQuery.  McQuery was a fairly good addition – a good batting average, doubles power, and he drove in 30 runs in 70 games.  On September 28, 1885, McQuery’s fourth hit, a long homer to left-center, allowed him to finish the cycle in a one-sided win over Providence.

However, his time in Detroit would be short.  When Buffalo folded, the Wolverines picked up four players who would turn Detroit into a National League champion in 1886.  McQuery instead was released and signed with the Kansas City Cowboys.  As with the previous seasons, McQuery was good but not great – and Kansas City was not long for the National League.  He returned to the minors.

Thankfully, McQuery landed with a city and team that suited him: the Syracuse Stars. The Stars were close to a major league quality organization in the International League and McQuery played well there from 1887 to 1890.  In 1888 and 1889, he batted .309 and .299 with a little power and fielded first base dependably if not gracefully.  When Syracuse graduated from the International League to the American Association in 1890, McQuery was named captain of the major league Syracuse franchise.  There, he didn’t disappoint – batting .308, hitting some doubles, and fielding his position like the intelligent veteran he was.

McQuery is seen below in this team photo of the 1889 Syracuse Stars.  You can probably figure out which guy in the top row was nicknamed “Big Mox.”  (Tall and centered…)

However, Syracuse wasn’t long for the major leagues.  Released at the end of the 1890 season, he found a role with Washington of the American Association, but his batting average slipped to the .240s.  After a year in the minors in 1892, he hung up his glove and returned home to Covington.

Those who knew McQuery knew that he was a good person – even in temperment and fair in judgment.  The police chief, Joe Pugh, encouraged McQuery to join the police force and in 1896 he was given his badge.  Mox’s life was his work and his wife.  He previously married the former Isabel Schoyers in 1886 near her family home in Versailles, Indiana.  A census record suggested Isabel had given birth to a child, but there were no children living with him in the 1900 US Census, nor any listed in obituaries or articles of McQuery at the time of his death on June 12, 1900.

The police and fire departments provided pall bearers and accompanied McQuery on his final journey from his home, to the funeral at the First Baptist Church where the Reverend C. J. Jones performed a ceremony, to Linden Grove Cemetery where his remains now rest.

As for Wallace Bishop and Thomas Mulligan, their lives would be spent in jails and prisons.  As word of McQuery’s death spread through Covington, Joe Pugh was notified by his officers that people in the city were coming to the city jail to kill Bishop and Mulligan for having done the same to McQuery.  Quickly, Pugh organized a group of officers and three horse drawn carriages to haul the prisoners out of Covington to a jail in Louisville.  People ran after the carriages yelling, “Hang ’em!” as they chased the exiting criminals.

With only minutes to spare, Bishop and Mulligan were hustled out of town, racing around the downtown area of Milldale where a train station sat on the edge of town.  They happened upon a picnic – and word spread quickly that Bishop and Mulligan were there.  Mobs had been following them and people from nearby railroad yards joined in the chase.  Eventually scores of angry people surrounded the officers and their carriages.  Police held off the mob until they could load the accused onto the train, then headed off to Louisville.

Justice was apparently too swift in coming.  A grand jury was seated, two coroners (one in Covington for the dead drifter and one in Cincinnati for the dead officer) held inquiries, and within days, Judge James P. Tarvin held a trial for the accused.  Bishop had been indicted on two counts of murder; Mulligan on one count of murder and one count as an accessory to murder.  The jury found them guilty, and Tarvin immediately sentenced Bishup to be hanged.

Attorneys representing Bishop filed an appeal, saying that the death of McQuery should have been treated as manslaughter than murder, given that it was the result of an escape and not necessarily planned.  The argument for murder was based on the fact that Bishop claimed he didn’t have a weapon, but then chose to use it as soon as McQuery’s back was turned to him.  Since manslaughter was not an option given to the grand jury, however, the appeal was granted.  In March, 1901, there was a second trial for Wallace Bishop and Thomas Mulligan.

Now, Bishop’s attorneys argued that it would be unlikely that he could receive a fair trial in a county where he had already been arrested, convicted, and sentenced to death – not to mention a near riot at the jail, followed by a harrowing escape to avoid being killed by local residents angered by the death of a popular police officer.

Judge Tarvin had a reputation for hasty and self-serving decisions.  In fact, shortly after being elected to his position, he declared that his courthouse needed an overhaul.  When the county commission argued with him over some technical point, he had members of that commission jailed for contempt.  And, he had quickly determined that Bishop deserved to be hanged for murder without giving a grand jury other valid options.  Naturally, he disagreed with the request for a change of venue.

Two days later, after going through scores of potential jurors, they still had just four of the twelve seats filled.  Exasperated, Tarvin suggested moving the case – but now the attorneys chose to make Tarvin sit there and watch other batches of jurors get disqualified until a jury was seated.  Finally, a new jury found Bishop guilty of murder – but instead of a hanging, Bishop received a life sentence at the state penitentiary in Frankfort, KY.

Bishop’s life in prison would be short.  On August 20, 1902, three men hatched a plan to escape from the prison.  At 6 a.m., with prisoners moving from the dining hall to their job areas following breakfast, the three overpowered guard A. H. Hill, taking his revolver.  F. F. Hurst came over to assist Hill, but he was easily corralled by the prisoners as well.  The three prisoners thought that by taking a guard during the morning prisoner transfer they might start a stampede that would help them escape.  Instead, only one other prisoner joined in the fray,  Albert Ransome, who was carrying his own concealed knife, became the fourth member of the escape effort.

While guards quickly hustled the rest of the prison population back to their cells, Wallace Bishop, Thomas Mulligan, Lafayette Brooks, and Ransome moved their two hostages toward the shoe factory.  Along the way, they bicked up a third hostage who happened to be in a locker room.  When the acting deputy warden, Mat Madigan, rushed the four men with his own team of six guards, the four moved onto a second floor workroom that overlooked the prison area.

Ransome was holding a door, but his shoulder was visible through a window.  Guard Eph Lillard, Jr. fired his rifle, hitting Ransome in that shoulder, knocking him over and removing whatever thoughts of escape ran through his head.  He quickly left the other three prisoners and surrendered.  The other three called out to the guards that if anyone tried to enter the room, they would shoot their hostages.  Four hours passed during this standoff without any other shooting, at which point guards used convict Frank Brooks as a messenger to communicate between the prison warden and Bishop.  Finally, the three convicts agreed to meet with Warden Eph Lillard, Sr. at the base of the stairs to discuss ending the standoff.

As agreed to, Bishop, Mulligan, and Brooks left the room with their hands up.  Halfway down the stairs Bishop lowered his arms – possibly to reach for his revolver.  Guard George Fry’s bullet – one of a few bullets fired – hit Bishop square in the chest.  Another shot hit Mulligan, who crawled toward the warden begging for his life.  Brooks surrendered.  Bishop, instead, cursed the guards who shot him when he was taken back into custody.

When it became obvious what fate awaited him, Bishop called for the Reverend T. S. Major and expressed a desire to join the Catholic Church.  Major quickly baptized Bishop, then Bishop asked for Mat Madigan and asked for his pardon and forgiveness.  Early that evening, Wallace Bishop left this earth.

Notice was sent to a possible family member in Hammond, Indiana.  Bishop had been communicating by letter with an S.E (or C. E) Bishop there, recently writing about the hellish conditions in the prison.  Having no response, nor any interest from nearby medical schools, Bishop’s body was buried in the prison graveyard.

Mulligan tried to escape a second time in 1906, crawing under the floor of that same shoe shop, then under the old wooden stockade which stood outside the walls of the prison.  Free, he took to running toward Bloomington, a village ten miles from Frankfort.  He was captured, and while T. E. Dailey was returning Mulligan back to the prison, Mulligan got away a second time – making it five miles in handcuffs before being captured again.  With 15 miles of running under his belt that day, Mulligan was exhausted and put up no fight the second time he was returned to his prison cell.

At this point, Mulligan’s health was failing – he lost his sight and suffered from dementia.  At the end of 1906, reports in papers foretold Mulligan’s impending death, though he survived to at least late August, 1907.  His actual death was not reported in Kentucky papers.  He outlived his judge; James Tarvin died August 20, 1907 following an asthma attack.  As for Lafayette Brooks, he would also die in prison.  Brooks, who had murdered the son of a judge in 1896, jumped out of a third story window of the same prison shoe factory.  The 40 foot jump was reported as a suicide attempt, with injuries that would eventually kill him.  Reports of the death of Ransome, who murdered a man in Louisville, could not be located.

Notes:

1850, 1860, 1870, 1880. 1900 US Censuses
KY Death Records
1882 Covington City Directory
FindAGrave.com
Baseball-Reference.com

“Kentons-Port Hurons,” Cincinnati Enquirer, September 4, 1883: 2.
“Northwestern League Games,” Detroit Free Press, June 17, 1884: 3.
“Base Ball,” Evansville Journal, February 11, 1884: 4.
“Shamrocks Defeat the Clippers,” Cincinnati Enquirer, August 18, 1884: 8.
“Base Ball Notes,” October 26, 1884: 8.
“Slugging the Sphere,” Detroit Free Press, September 29, 1885: 8.
“Base Ball Aftermath,” Rochester Democrat and Chronicle, November 3, 1889: 6.
“Notes,” Louisville Courier-Journal, March 16: 1890: 9.
“An Old-Time Player Murdered in Kentucky,” Minneapolis Tribune, June 24, 1900: Sports-7.
“Leaped For Liberty,” Public Ledger (Maysville, KY), June 9, 1900: 3.
“Claims,” Cincinnati Enquirer, June 10, 1900: 12.
“Burns Becomes Bishop,” Cincinnati Enquirer, June 10, 1900: 12.
“Hobo,” Cincinnati Enquirer, June 11, 1900: 10.
“Hurried,” Cincinnati Enquirer, June 13, 1900: 12.
“M’Query Died,” Cincinnati Enquirer, June 13, 1900: 12.
“Officer M’Query,” Cincinnati Enquirer, June 13, 1900: 12.
“Officer McQuery Dead,” Kentucky Advocate, June 13, 1900: 1.
“Funeral,” Cincinnati Enquirer, June 14, 1900: 12.
“Indicted,” Cincinatti Enquirer, June 15, 1900: 3.
“The Extreme Penalty,” Hamilton County Ledger, July 27, 1900: 5.
“Bishop Given Death Sentence,” Lexington Herald, July 28, 1900: 5.
“A New Trial,” Lexington Daily Leader, January 9, 1901: 1.
“Bishop’s Trial,” Cincinnati Enquirer, March 11, 1901: 6.
“Judge Tarvin’s Difficulties,” Louisville Courier-Journal, March 16, 1901: 2.
“For Life,” Cincinnati Post, March 18, 1901: 3.
“Convict Mutiny in Frankfort Prison,” Owensboro Messenger, August 22, 1902: 3.
“At Bay,” Louisville Courier-Lournal, August 21, 1902: 1, 3. (Images taken were on page 3.)
“Unclaimed,” Louisville Courier-Journal, August 22, 1902: 5.
FindaGrave.com – Wallace Bishop
“Wallace Bishop,” Lexington Daily Leader, August 24, 1902: 8.
“The Latest,” Louisville Courier-Journal, July 11, 1903: 1.
“In the Jury’s Hands,” Louisville Courier-Journal, July 4, 1896: 3.
“Desporate Prisoner Made His Escape,” Ownesboro Messenger, April 15, 1906: 1.
“Mulligan is Dying,” Kentucky Post, November 10, 1906: 3.
“Mulligan Insane at Penitentiary,” Kentucky Post, August 26, 1907: 2.
“Judge Tarvin Dies Suddenly,” Louisville Courier-Journal, August 21, 1907: 1.
Roebling Bridge Image
Syracuse Stars Image
Article on the History of Ludlow Lagoon

Isaac Benners was a Philadelphia born outfielder who had a great year with the Wilmington Quicksteps in 1883, when Wilmington was in the minors.  He was given a shot with Brooklyn in 1884 but it didn’t work out.  He then signed with Wilmington, who was now in the Union Association, but only had one hit in 23 plate appearances leading to this quote in the Wilmington Daily Republican:

“Big ‘Ike’ Benners, who was quite a favorite in last year’s Quickstep club, has lost his former charms and is now classed as N.G.  As a batter he is a miserable failure, while in the field he is apt to lose the game at a moment’s notice.”

“Notes,” Wilmington Daily Republican, September 4, 1884: 1.

If you can’t hit in the Union Association, you are destined to sandlot games. He played in the minors for 1885 in Portland, ME and Columbus in the Southern League before returning home to a more normal life.

Born June 7, 1856, Isaac was the oldest son of George and Sarah (Schutz) Benners. George was a blacksmith; Sarah was responsible for two sons. Isaac Benners first worked as a plumber before joining the railways for the rest of his life. He was a motorman when younger, and as an inspector for the Philadelphia Rapid Transit railway in later years.  He was briefly married to Leah Benners, but she died in 1890. In 1900 he was single and boarding with James and May Smith.  By 1910, James was gone and May and her two children were living with Benners – she was listed as his housekeeper.  Isaac and May eventually married in 1927…  Other than May’s children, Ike never fathered any children of his own.

Benners died April 18, 1932 of a combination of arteriosclerosis and urinary constricture and was buried in Fernwood Cemetery in Philadelphia.

Notes:

PA Death Certificate,
PA Marriage Index
1860, 1870, 1880, 1900, 1910, 1930 US Censuses
Baseball-reference.com
Findagrave.com

Charles Brittingham Burns appeared as a pinch hitter on August 19, 1902 for the Baltimore Orioles as they were winding down their life as an American League franchise in the wake of John McGraw’s treasonous exit earlier in the summer.

Having practiced with the team for a few days, Burns finally got his chance when he batted for pitcher Ike Butler in the ninth inning, lining the first pitch he ever saw past Dick Padden for a single. He was stranded there, however, as the game ended 11 – 4 in favor of the St. Louis Browns.

It was the only pitch that Burns would see as a major leaguer.

Burns was born May 15, 1879 to George Alexander and Anna Louisa (Priest) Burns in Bay View, Maryland, the tenth of thirteen children. A year later, the family moved to a farm in Cecil, Maryland. When not a student, he learned the game of baseball, playing on local amateur teams until his tryout with the Orioles – who only gave him a shot because half the team was stolen and added to the Giants or Reds rosters. He returned to the local sandlots soon after. Burns is listed as 6’0″ and 175 pounds, but unless he got really sick by the time he was 60, that’s probably overstating his size by a lot. When he registered for the draft in 1942, he was measured at 5’7″ and 130 pounds – he might have been 5’8″ and 145 as a strapping athlete in his youth.

Burns likely played on the local Havre De Grace team, which was pretty good. In fact, the team once went three years without losing a game on its home grounds.

Charles married Helen Jane Green in 1899, a partnership that lasted some sixty years and produced seven children of their own. Shortly after their marriage, the couple moved in with Helen’s parents. Eventually, as Burns took on different jobs (insurances salesman, carriage builder, painter at a US arsenal, hotel owner and operator), the family moved into their own home in Havre de Grace, MD, where they stayed for the rest of their lives.

Burns died at his home in Havre de Grace on June 6, 1968, having outlived his wife by eight years. He is buried in Angel Hill Cemetery in his hometown.

Notes:

1880, 1900, 1910, 1920, 1930 US Census
WWI and WWII Registration Cards
Ancestry Family Tree

www.baseball-reference.com
www.findagrave.com

“Walbrook A.C., 11; Havre De Grace, 7,” Baltimore Sun, August 10, 1902: 6.

“Catcher Sweeney Due Today,” Baltimore Sun, August 20, 1902: 6.

Louis Graff’s long, successful life included building upon his father’s successful grain exporting company to eventually serving two long terms as the president of the Philadelphia Commercial Exchange, getting the ear of Woodrow Wilson, and influencing the government’s role in supporting and supervising grain exportation.

And, he happened to play in one major league baseball game and a full season of minor league baseball.

Louis George Graff, Jr. was the sixth child born to Louis George Graff, Sr. and Martha (Bell) Graff, arriving in Philadelphia on July 25, 1866.  Louis, Sr. would have a bio worthy life himself.  Born in Saxe-Coburg – a duchy eventually swallowed into Germany, he was a childhood friend of Prince Albert, the future consort of Queen Victoria of England.  His family left Saxe-Coburg around 1833 and came to Westmoreland County in Pennsylvania.  He first moved to Pittsburgh, but soon left to work boats along the Mississippi River.  After that, he became friendly with the future mayor of New York, William Strong, who was placing dry goods franchises throughout the United States.  Graff would run stores for Strong in Massillon, Ohio.  Learning how to exchange goods, he eventually moved to Philadelphia where he started his own commission to exhange grains.  By 1886, Graff’s train cars were moving record amounts of wheat through Philadelphia to places all over the country and the world.

Two of the youngest of Louis and Martha’s seven children would have a bit more free time than the older brothers.  Joseph would take up cricket, while Louis, Jr. would take up baseball.  The younger Louis graduated from the Hastings Academy in western Philadelphia and, when he wasn’t working for his father, became a catcher for his local amateur team in Riverton, New Jersey, where his father had moved in his later years.  Louis was an athletic and smart player – especially fast – but not especially muscular or gifted with an unusually strong arm.  But – he was smart and dependable, someone you would want supporting a pitching staff.

It was while he was an amateur that the 1890 Syracuse Stars came to Philadelphia for a series with the Athletics.  Syracuse was short healthy catchers, so they gave Graff a chance to catch the first game of a double header on June 23, 1890.  In fact, this was the second time in 1890 that Graff was hired on an emergency basis,  He had signed to play for Altoona in May when three of Altoona’s catchers were suffering from hand injuries.

Philadelphia defeated Syracuse rather handily in both games, but it wasn’t Graff’s fault in that first game.  While a wild throw by Graff allowed two runners to score in the top of the fourth, in the bottom of the fourth Graff laced a double that scored two runners.  He had a single later in the game, and in the eighth inning, he grounded out to drive in a third run.  When the game was over, Graff sported a .400 batting average and three RBI.

He wouldn’t play another game for Syracuse.  He returned to Riverton and played in 44 games behind the plate there, getting 88 hits and leading his team in stolen bases.  In one game, Riverton beat the Philadelphia Phillies, though the National League club had given a tryout that day to a local amateur pitcher.

It was that reputation – a very good amateur in a very good baseball town – that earned the attention of Chicago Colts captain, Cap Anson.  Anson liked what he saw and heard and signed Graff to a contract for the 1891 season.  Graff joined the Colts as they headed to Denver for spring training and made the team that April.  However, he never appeared in a game for Anson’s Colts and eventually he was released at the end of the month.

“…Graff does not seem to have enough beef for the work. He is a clever fellow personally, but there is not the promising timber in him…”

“Concerning Chicago’s Colts,” Chicago Inter-Ocean, April 21, 1891: 6.

Another player who didn’t make it with the Colts that year was infielder Bob Glenalvin, who went west and captained Portland’s entry in the four-team Pacific Northwestern League.  Glenalvin brought Graff to the Gladiators, where he became the team’s regular catcher for the rest of the year.  Along the way, the nickname given to Graff in Chicago, “Lord Chumley,” was replaced by the kinder “Chappie.”  Chappie still made note that Graff was a bit aloof, having been raised in a family of consderable means – and had those mannerisms, too.  On the year, Graff hit .242 in 74 games, adding just ten doubles and a triple.  The league’s regular season ended with Portland as the pennant winner.  Then, the Gladiators continued playing games against a team from San Jose, California through the end of December.  Graff only left Portland when a brother became ill and he was asked to return home to help care for the family and his father’s business in January, 1892.  The last note about Graff’s baseball career came six months later when it was rumored that New York expressed an interest in signing the quick catcher.

Returning home was the right decision.  A decade later, Louis, Sr. passed away and Louis, Jr. took over the top job.  Continuing to build the Graff & Co. business and his own reputation, Graff became an influential member of the Philadelphia Commercial Exchange.  He eventually become a director, a vice president, and then voted president of the Commercial Exchange in 1911.  He served for a number of years in that role, providing smooth leadership to the Exchange, and guidence to the government during the war years.  He would encourage Woodrow Wilson to put banking operators in London to deal with currency and grain exchanges and then asked the government to provide oversight to all exports so that neutral European countries couldn’t resell US grain to Germany during the first World War.

When the Great Depression hit, Graff was pulled out of retirement to again lead the Commercial Exchange during the 1930s.  He wouldn’t completely retire until the the 1940s.  Like his father, he worked until he was approaching 75 years old – fit and in good health.

Soon after his professional baseball days were over, Graff married Nellie Horner.  They had two daughters, Catherine and Lillian, and a son, Walter.  Nellie passed away of a pelvic malignancy in 1949.  Louis Graff would live almost six more years.  In early April he fell and broke his hip.  After surgery to repair the hip, Graff caught pneumonia and passed away in the same Lower Merion (PA) hospital as his wife.  He died on April 16, 1955, and was buried in George Washington Memorial Cemetery in Plymouth Meeting, Pa.

Notes and Sources:

1870, 1880, 1900, 1910, 1920, 1930, 1940, 1950 US Censuses
PA Death Certificates
PA Marriage Index
Church of the Good Shepherd (Episcopal) church records (accessed via Ancestry.com – like everything listed above this…)

FindaGrave.com (includes image uploaded by Gordon Brett Echols)
Baseball-Reference.com 

“Grain and Produce,” Philadelphia Times, December 11, 1886: 7.
“A New Battery Signed,” Altoona Tribune, May 10, 1890: 1.
“Riverton Downs the Phillies,” Philadelphia Inquirer, September 6, 1890: 3.
“The League Team Complete,” Chicago Tribune, November 1, 1890: 6.
“Strength of the Clubs,” Chicago Tribune, April 19, 1891: 43.
“Concerning Chicago’s Colts,” Chicago Inter-Ocean, April 21, 1891: 6.
“Baseball Notes,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer, May 4, 1891: 3.
“Baseball Notes,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer, May 10, 1891: 3.
“Tacoma is Disgusted,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer, May 11, 1891: 3.
“The Flag is Won,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer, October 5, 1891: 3.
“Gossip of Baseball,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer, January 18, 1892: 3.
“Gossip of Baseball,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer, July 4, 1892: 3.
“A Close Game at Riverton,” Philadelphia Inquirer, June 2, 1892: 3.
“Louis G. Graff, Jr.,” Philadelphia Inquirer, February 11, 1900: Ad Section, Page 14. (Image)
“Louis G, Graff Dies Suddenly At His Home,” Philadelphia Inquirer, June 30, 1901: 3.
“Hope to Adjust Grain Shipments,” Philadelphia Inquirer, August 6, 1914: 5.
“Approves Control of Grain Exports,” Philadelphia Inquirer, July 6, 1917: 2.
“Louis G. Graff, Exporter, Dies,” Philadelphia Inquirer, April 18, 1955: 10.

Frank Bahret was at the top of today’s death list – having died on March 30, 1888. I noticed that he didn’t have a birthdate – just a year, 1858 – when I tried to find information on him with an Ancestry.com search.

Anyway, I was able to find a few things about Mr. Bahret that helps fill out his life story – including his birthdate.

Frank Fletcher Bahret was born on September 12, 1858 to Jacob and Frederika (Dietz) Bahret in Poughkeepsie, New York.  Jacob and Frederika came to the United States from Baden-Wurttemburg, in the southern part of Germany.  This was a large family – in the 1860 US Census, you have ten children living with Jacob and Frederika, with ages ranging from 20 to 1 and three more children were born in the next decade.  Jacob is listed as a merchant tailor in the 1860 US Census. His son, also Jacob, continued that tradition after the father’s death in 1865, operating his shop in a building he owned on Main Street in downtown Poughkeepsie.  J. J. Bahret and Company was frequently seen in the Poughkeepsie Daily Eagle advertising clothing for men and children – school uniforms and the like.

Frank remained in school through at least 1880 and took up the growing sport of baseball, where he played on the amateur Poughkeepsie Browns.  At least two of his brothers were also active local players – a story about a junior team featuring two of the Bahret brothers appears in the Poughkeepsie Daily Eagle in 1876 and his younger brother, Frederick, is listed with a local team in The Sporting Life in 1886. By 1884, Bahret was a “…well known base ball player of this city, and who has a good record… ” In 1884, Bahret was signed to play the outfield for by the Baltimore Monumentals in the Union Association.  His contract called for a salary of $1000 for the year, but he wouldn’t collect the full salary.  He managed to play in just two games, going hitless in eight at bats with a game each in center and right field, before he was released in late April.

With that, Bahret returned home to Poughkeepsie.  As he did before he left for a chance at baseball stardom, Frank worked as a clerk in the family business.  However, his time on the earth, like his baseball career, was unfortunately brief.  Before Frank turned 30, he had died.  1888 was a rough year for the family as three Bahret brothers died that year. Frank Bahret was buried in the family plot in Poughkeepsie Rural Cemetery.  It’s the family grave marker that tells us Frank’s birthdate.

Notes:

Baseball-Reference.com
FindaGrave.com
1860, 1870, 1880 US Census
1865, 1875 New York Census

“The Junior Base Ball Match,” Poughkeepsie Daily Eagle, September 15, 1876: 3.

“A $50,000 Blaze,” Poughkeepsie Daily Eagle, March 4, 1881: 3.

“Games Played on Saturday,” Baltimore Sun, April 28, 1884: 6.

“Base Ball Notes,” Poughkeepsie Daily Eagle, January 25, 1884: 3.

“Released,” Poughkeepsie Daily Eagle, May 7, 1884: 3.

“Base Ball – The Knights of the Club Laid Out,” Poughkeepsie Daily Eagle, September 8, 1884: 3.

“Notes and Comments,” The Sporting Life, April 7, 1886: 3.

This takes me back – Casey and I at Roger Dean Stadium in Jupiter.

Casey got two foul balls before we sat down.  (Both were foul balls that cleared the stadium as we walked up to get our tickets.)

I have one of the two – I asked if I could have one as a memory of our seeing the game together.  Then I asked him to sign it.  He said, “I would, dad, but I don’t know how to spell Dan Uggla.”

“[Allison] opened the contest by sending a ball over Cuthbert’s head for three bases.”

“Eckford vs. Athletic,” Times Union, September 17, 1869: 3.

Andy Allison was a member of the Eckford Base Ball Club in the late 1860s and early 1870s. For one year, the Eckford club paid the $10 fee to join the National Assocation – so Allison has a stat line for the 1872 season in your baseball encyclopedia.

Andrew Kent Allison was born in 1848 (or possibly late 1847) to James and Jane Allison – arriving in one of the five New York boroughs, but soon after the family had moved to Brooklyn.  A Scottish immigrant (like his wife) James was a laborer, spending many years in the Brooklyn shipyards.  Andrew was the second of at least six children.

By the time Allison became an adult, he had been apprenticed in two things – printing and baseball.  He appears in newspapers as the leadoff hitter and first baseman for the Eckfords – one assumes that he may have played for some of the other amateur teams of the area before joining the Eckford club and serving as a board member.  His reputation was strong enough that other clubs used Allison as an umpire.  And, an 1872 article referred to Allison as “Old Reliable.”

As mentioned, the Eckford were at least a semi-professional operation but in 1872 they were playing with the professionals.  The Eckford lost eleven straight games in the early summer.  A number of the National Association teams folded and the Eckford were able to add players from two other teams.  In their final 18 games, the Eckford won three – two of them against their long time rivals, the Atlantics.  And with that, the Eckford returned to their amateur roots.  Allison stayed on, playing and umpring games as they were created.  For his major league career – if you want to call it that – Allison appeared in 22 league games, getting just 15 hits, scoring nine times and driving in ten runs.  Two of his hits were doubles.  His final batting average was a rather weak .163.

Allison was involved in local Republican politics in later years, but his social life caught up with him – alcoholism contributed to his death by heart paralysis on March 21, 1897.  He was no more than 49 years old.  He left behind a wife, Elizabeth (Reynolds), and four children.  His remains lie in Cypress Hills Cemetery in Brooklyn.

Sources:

1850, 1860, 1870, 1880 US Censuses
NY State Death Certificate
1855, 1875, 1892 NY State Census

“Eckford vs. Athletic,” Times Union, September 17, 1869: 3.

“Notes,” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, June 16, 1871: 3.

“The Eckford Base Ball Club,” Times Union, April 3, 1872: 4.