“Old Hoss” achieved lasting fame as nineteenth-century ballplayer
This 1887 baseball card includes a staged action shot with Radbourn applying the tag. That season a 32year-old Radbourn played for the Boston Beaneaters of the National League, finishing with a 24-23
record as a starting pitcher.
In 1884, right-handed twirler Charles “Old Hoss” Radbourn of Bloomington set a record for
wins in a big league baseball season. Today, it’s inconceivable that any pitcher will ever top his
stunning single-season mark of 59 victories.
Born in Rochester, New York, in December 11, 1854, Radbourn (sometimes spelled Radbourne
with an “e”) moved to Bloomington with his family at a very young age. He learned the game in
club matches between local “nines” and those from nearby communities. It even appears he
played, if only briefly, for Illinois Wesleyan University, this at a time when local “ringers”
rounded out college lineups.
Baseball during Radbourn’s career was a rough-and-tumble enterprise. In September 1876, the
future hall-of-famer found himself implicated in a fixed game involving Bloomington’s semi-pro
club. The Pantagraph accused three gamblers of “sugaring” several Bloomington players into
throwing a game against the visiting Springfield nine. The night before the “dirty swindle,”
Radbourn, who admitted to being a little “off his foot,” met two of the fixers at Schausten’s, a
downtown saloon. The Pantagraph described the incident this way: “[Radbourn] does not deny
that he may have said that he would take the money, but, being drunk, was not responsible for
his words.”
He was always up for a challenge, especially if it involved a cash prize. “A five dollar throwing
match took place between a stranger and Charley Radbourn,” reported the September 7, 1877
Democratic News, a weekly Bloomington newspaper. “Charley beat the stranger by about forty
feet.”
Radbourn played minor league ball in Peoria and elsewhere, and in 1881 began his Major
League career with the Providence (Rhode Island) Grays of the National League. “Radbourn
pitched with his head as much as with his right arm,” remembered Providence Manager Frank
Bancroft. Old Hoss, who “knew the weaknesses of every batter in the league,” was a master at
tweaking his delivery to change the angle and speed of the ball as it approached the plate. “He
was, beyond all doubt, the most remarkable pitcher of the age,” recalled former big league
teammate “Honest John” Morrill. “He rarely pitched two games alike, and never permitted the
batsman to understand his method. He altered his style to suit the occasion or grounds.”
During his 11 seasons on the mound, he won 309 games, though his reputation rests with his
record-breaking 1884 season with Providence. When the Grays other star hurler, the
unpredictable, mean-as-a-snake Charlie Sweeney, left over a petty disagreement with
management, Radbourn agreed to pitch every game in exchange for the remainder of his former
teammate’s contract (back then teams used a two-man starting rotation). Old Hoss completed all
73 of his starts that season, winning 59 over a staggering 678-plus innings of work. Bancroft, the
Providence manager, later said that Radbourn was the “only one-man team in the history of the
game.” Today, 20-game winners are increasingly rare, and the last big league pitcher to win 30
or more games in a season was the Detroit Tigers’ Denny McLain, who went 31-6 way back in
1968.
Not surprisingly, Radbourn’s throwing arm was never the same after the epic 1884 campaign. He
pitched one more season for Providence before the dissolution of the franchise, and then spent
four solid but hardly spectacular years with the Boston Beaneaters. Saddled with a “glass” arm,
he wrapped up his career with the Boston Reds of the short-lived Players’ League, and then one
final hurrah in the National League, this time with Cincinnati.
Nineteenth-century baseball offers little solace for those who pine for the days when grown men
played for the love of the game. In Old Hoss’s era, cold hard cash was as much a part of the
game as brawling, hard liquor, and gambling. Owners were ruthless and players, though still
under contract, would often “jump” to other teams or outlaw leagues. In 1886, Radbourn was
said to earn a then-record $4,500 (or well over $100,000, adjusted for inflation) with the
Beaneaters. A year later, a worn-down “Rad” returned to Bloomington for some off-season
R&R. “He is heartily tired of the slavery under the present arbitrary league contracts, where men
are bought and sold like cattle,” noted the sympathetic Pantagraph.
After leaving baseball, Old Hoss kept an eye on his billiards saloon at 214 West Washington
Street. “Best of Everything in Wet Goods and Cigars” read an 1891 advertisement for
“Radbourn’s Place.” During retirement, he lost an eye in a hunting accident, and suffered from
other whispered maladies (i.e. syphilis). The baseball great, according to one account, “grew
sick, lingered on from year to year as disease gnawed at his mental and physical being, robbing
him of speech, feeling and locomotion long before the final day arrived.”
Radbourn’s final day came on February 5, 1897. He was only 42 years old. Induction into the
National Baseball Hall of Fame came posthumously in 1939.
‘Old Hoss’ Radbourn embodied baseball’s coarser past
This extremely rare 1887 Red Stocking Cigar card of Radbourn shows the future hall of famer during his
playing days with the Boston Beaneaters of the National League. (courtesy of Robert Edward Auctions,
LLC)
With spring training underway in Arizona and Florida, thoughts of many sports fans have turned
toward warmer weather and the 2014 baseball season. In addition, an upcoming stage play on
Charles “Old Hoss” Radbourn, Bloomington’s very own hall of famer, brings to mind one of the
game’s greatest pitchers.
Radbourn holds the all-time big league record for wins in a season—an unfathomable (at least by
today’s standards) 59 in 1884 for the Providence (RI) Grays. Born in upstate New York in 1854,
Radbourn’s family soon moved to Bloomington, and it was here that his father earned a hard
living as a butcher and young Charles, who likely had no more than two or three years of
schooling, began playing “base ball” (it was commonly spelled as two words back then).
In the 19th century, the emerging national pastime was an urban, working class game. Crude
language, alcohol, violence (real and threatened), and rule breaking were part of baseball’s
fabric, and despite our wish for a genteel sporting past, ballplayers at this time could be spoiled
prima donnas griping plenty about tight-fisted owners and ungrateful fans—just like today!
To his credit, Radbourn never cared much for the limelight, though, truth be told, he could be
mean as a snake. His irascibility was legendary, and in fact he’s the first known person
photographed giving the middle finger, a feat he accomplished not once but twice—first in an
opening day 1886 team portrait and then the following year in an Old Judge cigarettes baseball
card.
The Radbourn men were said to be a rather reticent bunch, preferring hunting and fishing to the
social world (I guess one could say Old Hoss preferred his finger do the talking!) “To play ball in
the summertime and to shoot game in the winter are Charley’s greatest desires,” observed The
Pantagraph in 1883.
He first made a name for himself playing semi-professional ball for Bloomington’s top team, and
an incident from the 1876 season speaks volumes to the rougher edges of organized baseball in
the 1800s. On September 1, The “Bloomingtons” (as they were called) found themselves facing
accusations that two players conspired with crooked gamblers to throw a game against visiting
Springfield.
Radbourn played left field that day and cousin Henry pitched, and although neither were
implicated, the future hall of famer came off smelling less than roses. He admitted meeting with
two of the fixers at William Schausten’s saloon on the west side of the Courthouse Square,
though as he was a little “off his foot” (slang for intoxicated) he said he could not remember the
details. “He does not deny that he may have said that he would take the money,” reported The
Pantagraph, “but, being drunk, was not responsible for his words.”
In 1878, Rabourn left home to play for the talented, barnstorming Peoria Reds, and the next
season he suited up for the Dubuque Rabbits of the Northwestern League, earning a notinconsiderable salary of $75 a month. He made it to the big-time National League in 1880,
signing with the Buffalo Bisons for $750 (or something like $18,000 today in inflation-adjusted
dollars), but had to leave the team—and forgo his salary—due to a lingering shoulder injury. Yet
the next spring he was back in the National League for good, though this time with the
Providence Grays, winning 25, 33 and 48 games in the three seasons leading up to 1884 and
baseball immortality.
Radbourn’s arm was never the same after the 59-win season (or 60—baseball’s arbiters can’t
agree), and when the Providence franchise folded he played several years of solid if not
spectacular ball for the Boston Beaneaters. He finished his big league career in 1891 as a 36year-old with the Cincinnati Reds, going 11-13 in 24 starts.
Once back in Bloomington Radbourn operated a billiards hall and saloon on the 200 block of
West Washington Street, though he was in many ways a broken man, suffering from syphilis (if
the rumors are to be believed) and having lost an eye in a hunting accident. He passed away in
1897 at the age of 42.
For Old Hoss, the Cooperstown call came posthumously when the Old Timers Committee voted
him into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1939.
In two weeks the McLean County Museum of History, in collaboration with Illinois Voices
Theatre, will present “Old Hoss: Ornery, Belligerent, and Just Maybe the Best Pitcher Who Ever
Lived,” an original play written by Jared Brown. Performances are March 7 through March 9.
For tickets and information, contact the Museum.
As befitting Radbourn’s life and career, this production is rated PG-13 for coarse language and
mild sexual content. We’re sure Old Hoss would’ve preferred it that way.