Real historians will
tell you that much of “history” is a mixture of fact, fiction, legend,
supposition, misunderstanding and mistakes. For example, it is a fact that Aaron
Burr shot and killed Alexander Hamilton in a duel in 1804, not far from what
would later be called the Elysian Fields. However, it is supposition as to
exactly what happened that day. Did
Hamilton
deliberately miss? Who fired first? Did Burr mean to kill his opponent?
Or, take Andrew Jackson. It is a fact that he was president of the
United States
, that there was an assassination attempt on him on the steps of the Capitol,
and that he killed a man in a duel. But… was he legally eligible to be
president (legend has it he was born on a ship at sea), what happened to the
would-be-assassin’s gun (did it misfire, if so, how many times, was it
defective, did he just miss), and why did Jackson (who dueled so much it was
said he rattled when he walked) fight Charles Dickinson? Did he insult
Jackson
’s wife?
Jackson
’s war record? Both?
Perhaps you prefer
labor relations. Jimmy Hoffa was most certainly the head of the Teamsters Union,
and he most certainly hasn’t been heard from for something like 20 years. But,
is he really residing underneath one of the end zones of a football stadium in
the Meadowlands? (Also not far from the former site of the Elysian Fields.
The point is that,
while history may not change, our understanding of history does change, and
hopefully for the better. Now, “the better” can mean a lot of things, but
for historians, who, like archaeologist Indiana Jones are seekers of fact, does
not “the better” mean a better, more correct understanding of history? Even
if the facts (or some of the facts) may remain elusive, just the knowledge that
what may have been considered facts are, actually, supposition, is a revelation
that moves forward our understanding of history.
In this case, the
subject is early baseball. And the historian in question is Marcia Nucciarone,
who has tackled the daunting task of trying to sort out myth from reality in the
case of Alexander Cartwright… bank clerk, bookseller, early baseball player,
Knickerbocker, 49er (sounds like he went in for baseball, basketball and
football), “Johnny Appleseed” for the National Pastime, Hawaiian civic
leader, confidant to royalty, businessman, importer, fireman, leader of the
Hawaii annexation movement that eventually led to the Sandwich Islands becoming
the 50th state, and legend. And his legend… you know his legend…
he’s in the Hall of Fame as, essentially, the true inventor of the game of
baseball, or at least the codifier (if not creator) of the game’s seminal
rules as first played by the Knickerbocker club in the mid 1840s (at the
Elysian Fields.) But, just because Cartwright; not Abner Doubleday, not William
Wheaton, not Duncan Curry, not Daniel “Doc”
Adams
, is in the Hall of Fame, does that make him the Father of Baseball? And, if
not, how did he get in the Hall in the first place?
Nucciarone, a faculty
counselor advisor at the Pierce College Fort Steilacoom campus in
Lakewood
,
Washington
, has written the first true scholarly biography of the elusive (at least in an
historical fact sense) Mr. Cartwright. The result of her countless hours (over a
period of eight years) pouring over everything from 1849 gold rush journal
entries (hence, the 49er reference), to letters, to old clippings of various
sorts, “Alexander Cartwright” (2009,
University
of
Nebraska Press
, ISBN 978-0-8032-3353-9) is an essential work for anyone interested in the
origins of baseball. And, it is much more. A snapshot of life in the
United States
in the 1840s. A quick look in at the
California
gold rush. Possibly the best popular book that deals with the
kingdom
of
Hawaii
in the latter half of the 19th Century since James Michener wrote
“
Hawaii
.”
Nucciarone brings a
momentous task under control. Think about it… she undertook to write a bio of
someone who died more than 100 years ago and who lived the last 42 years of his
life in a land far removed from the mainstream of the
U.S.
, to say nothing of the mainstream media of the day. (Why do you think the early
years of baseball are so relatively well-documented… they took place in what
was already the media capital of the land,
New York
.) To do so, Nucciarone splits her story into two parts. The first part tells
the story of Cartwright’s life, from
Manhattan
to
Honolulu
, 1820 to 1892. Part Two specifically looks at Cartwright and baseball’s
founding, if indeed baseball can be said to have been founded, let alone founded
by one man, or even a group of men in a single club.
What does Nucciarone
accomplish? Nothing less than the furtherance of the study of history, the
search for facts (“If it’s truth you’re interested in, Dr. Tyree’s
philosophy class is right down the hall.”), in regards to both Cartwright and
the origins of baseball. Some may say this has been done already, back in 1973
when Sports Illustrated’s
Harold Peterson followed up his 1969 SI article on Cartwright with a full-length
bio, “The Man Who Invented Baseball.” This is the kind of thing that writers
do on occasion – they write an article that draws enough attention, and has
enough promise for both further investigation and book sales, that they expand
the article into a full-length book. (I’m doing the same thing with my essay
on “The Mount Rushmores of Baseball.”) However, expanding an SI article into
a true and accurate bio of Alexander Cartwright was a function that ultimately
eluded Peterson. Indeed, it is hard to fairly judge the accuracy of Peterson’s
work on the surface – he did not footnote his sources and he died shortly
after the book was published. Although I have not read his book, it is clear,
notably from reading Nucciarone, that Peterson made a lot of suppositions on
Cartwright and his baseball background, suppositions that he did not, and could
not, back up with more than what have turned out to be (as indicated by
Nucciarone’s research) third-hand or third person oral histories. However, as
she notes in her Introduction, Peterson’s book became THE source for
information on Cartwright. Regarding baseball, that means such tales as
Cartwright’s role in the founding of the Knickerbocker club, the primacy of
the Knickerbocker club, his authorship of the Knickerbocker rules, his spreading
the game across the Great Plains as he journeyed to
California
in 1849, and his introduction of baseball to the
Kingdom
of
Hawaii
. As it turns out, and as Nucciarone makes perfectly clear, much of this is, if
not legend, certainly supposition, and is best described in Arlen Specter’s
terms in his vote in the Clinton impeachment trial… not proven.
As Nucciarone also
explains in the Introduction (and this is a real strong point of the book… in
effect, she tells us what she’s going to do, and then does it) although
Cartwright’s involvement in baseball in described in Part One, it is a
surprisingly brief description, as far as factual evidence is concerned. In Part
Two, she goes in depth inside the various Cartwright baseball legends – were
the Knickerbocker the first organized baseball club, were they founded by
Cartwright, did the Knicks play the first true match game, did Cartwright create
or establish any of the “Knickerbocker Rules,” was he the “Johnny
Appleseed” of baseball as he went west, and, did he introduce baseball to
Hawaii (eventually giving us the 2008 Little League World Series champions and
Shane Victorino)?
How does it all play
out? Just how important a figure in baseball history is Alexander Cartwright?
According to his biographer and the most careful researcher we have on the
subject, it’s hard to say. As she notes at the start of Part Two (“The
Mythography of a Man”), “we know very little from primary sources, or from
Cartwright himself.” Most of the Cartwright story that Peterson told, and has
been considered “history” for some 35 years, is at best taken from second-
and third-hand accounts (that often conflict with one another) and, at worst,
from what sounds an awful lot like a good PR job after the fact by the
Cartwright family, notably his grandson Bruce Cartwright, Jr., whose
intervention with the Hall of Fame basically got granddad so-inducted some 70
years ago. Nucciarone’s research has, in point of fact, turned up exactly one
original document pertaining to baseball that was written in Cartwright’s
hand, one document that wasn’t copied by someone else, or in some other
fashion has a murky provenance. That one document is a letter from Cartwright to
fellow Knickerbocker Charles DeBost, written from
Hawaii
on April 6, 1865, in response to a letter that DeBost had sent him. A letter
written some 16 years after Cartwright left
New York
to seek his fortune in the (far) west.
As for the answers to
the questions Nucciarone poses at the start of Part Two, it’s probably better
not to spoil the secret (and you owe it to yourself to read the book in any
case), except to say that hard evidence remains scanty and the truth of
Cartwright’s, and the other Knicks’ (to say nothing of the club itself),
involvement in the evolution (a better word than creation) of the National
Pastime are still matters of debate.
“Alexander
Cartwright” makes it clear to the reader that Alexander Cartwright’s seminal
involvement in the formation of baseball is, at this time, not proven. Note that
Nuccciarone does NOT say flatly that Peterson’s assumptions, and the myth and
legend that has been built up around Cartwright, is a lot of hogwash. No, it is
to her credit as an historian that she checked her ego in either the state of
Washington
, or
Lincoln
,
Nebraska
. It’s simply a matter, she says, that we don’t really know, because there
are so few reliable original documents on the subject, and they don’t say very
much. Might we learn more some day? Sure, but in 2009, this is the here and now,
the latest word on Alexander Cartwright and baseball. More than once in her book
Nucciarone states the honest fact along the lines that she is giving the most
complete picture as is possible at the present time, or she refers to a document
as the only one “that we have at this time.” Clearly, there may be more
history out there waiting to be discovered, (or there may not be… no one knows
for sure) but, for now, on the subject of Alexander Cartwright and the founding
of baseball, Monica Nucciarone has written the last word, and we are all
indebted to her.