A Public Official
as a Muckraker
BRAND WHITLOCK
by NEIL THORBURN
One would not expect to find the name of
Brand Whitlock on a list of
"muckrakers." Yet, several
articles he wrote while mayor of Toledo and his
most successful novel, The Turn of
the Balance, are so typical of the muck-
raking literature popular in the first
decade of the twentieth century that
the resemblance cannot be a coincidence.
Whitlock thought of himself pri-
marily as an author, not a politician,
although today he is better remem-
bered for his eight years as mayor and
his exemplary service as American
Minister in Belgium during World War I.
He was a novelist of some poten-
tial, having already published several
books when he was first elected in
1905. Among his friends were writers
like William Dean Howells, the father
of American literary realism, Albert Jay
Nock of The American Magazine,
and the country's most famous
muckrakers, Lincoln Steffens and Ida Tar-
bell. These people had a direct influence
on Whitlock's work.1
Richard Hofstadter confirmed in The
Age of Reform Robert Cantwell's
assertion that the primary reason for
the muckraker's impact was their suc-
cessful use of the methods of literary
realism. Realists tried to paint, without
embellishment, a graphic picture of
contemporary society in the United
States. Characterization and setting
took precedence over the plot. This
America which emerged from the pages of
novelists like Hamlin Garland,
Frank Norris or Stephen Crane was
anything but pretty, but it was one that
its citizens could recognize. The
muckrakers, so runs this theory, became
popular because they wrote
An intimate, anecdotal,
behind-the-scenes history of their own
times . . . . They traced the intricate
relationship of the police, the un-
derworld, the local political bosses,
the secret connections between the
new corporations . . . and the
legislatures and the courts. In doing this
they drew a new cast of characters for
the drama of American society:
bosses, professional politicians,
reformers, racketeers, captains of indus-
try. Everybody recognized these native
types; everybody knew about
them; but they had not been
characterized before; their social functions
had not been analyzed. At the same time,
the muckrakers pictured stage
settings that everybody recognized but
that nobody had written about
--oil refineries, slums, the red-light
districts, the hotel rooms where po-
litical deals were made--the familiar,
unadorned, homely stages where
the teeming day-to-day dramas of
American life were enacted.2
NOTES ON PAGE 67
6 OHIO HISTORY
These writers sensed that they could
capture a vast audience through the
medium of the modern mass-circulation
magazine. They wanted to see
change in the deplorable conditions they
described, but they realized that
the exposure must come first. So they
laced their work with sensational de-
tails on the assumption that social
action would result if they aroused
enough indignation in their largely
middle-class readers. With a profound
faith in the people as a positive force
for good, the muckrakers hoped to in-
spire in an apathetic public the same
sense of personal ethical responsibility
that they felt themselves. A pattern
emerged in their work: exposure in
realistic detail and moral exhortation.
When interest had been awakened,
solutions might be accepted.3
A few--like Steffens, Tarbell, and David
Graham Phillips--became the
model for many aspiring writers. Their
numbers are hard to estimate accu-
rately, because any measurement depends
on how the term "muckraking"
is defined. Judson Grenier argues
convincingly for the broadest possible
usage of the term. "To
muckrake," he concludes, "means to have partici-
pated in the expose movement led by the
magazines of mass-circulation in
the years 1902-1914."4 If we accept
his definition as a practical one, the
number of converts to muckraking was
large.
Among them was Whitlock. Indeed his
great contribution to the progres-
sive movement may well have been his
frequent, sometimes almost uncon-
scious use of its moral rhetoric. Still
he always scoffed at those who called
him a reformer.5 Never a
particularly original thinker, Whitlock's gift lay
in his ability to adopt and expand upon
the ideas advanced by others. He
had already practiced literary realism
in his first novel The 13th District,
published in 1902, and since he admired
the work of the muckrakers, it was
natural for him to also try their
technique in the books and articles he wrote.
He wanted to describe the things that
were wrong in a typical American
city like Toledo, and to awaken outside
Ohio the same kind of exceptional
public spirit that he and his fellow
progressives had aroused at home. Like
the muckrakers, he had faith that the
people would work for social better-
ment. There was nothing very novel about
this city's fight to eliminate the
franchise privileges awarded to the
street railway company, but Whitlock
made it seem so. When leaders of a
Toledo ice company were jailed for
illegal business practices, Whitlock
used them as protagonists in a Collier's
article castigating corrupt monopolists
as the despoilers of democracy.6
Whitlock was certainly not the only
publicist who was also a public offi-
cial. Cleveland's Frederic C. Howe and
Denver's juvenile court Judge Ben
B. Lindsey are good examples of other
public servants who contributed to
the literature of reform.7 But
Whitlock's efforts are distinctive because he
emulated the muckraker's form,
incorporating Steffen's assumption that
exposure and exhortation in themselves
constituted progress. Thusly the
Mayor wrote articles for some of the
leading magazines of the day, composed
a reply to his critics among Toledo's
clergy, and published the most im-
passioned novel he ever wrote. His
humanitarianism, familiarity with urban
politics, and his writing ability made
these works, fashioned after the muck-
rakers' method, among his best in a long
and diversified career.
BRAND WHITLOCK 7
Whitlock practiced law in Toledo before
entering politics and had ob-
served the ill-treatment of the poor in
the city's courts. Some of the victims
were even his clients. His indignation
was aroused, and his close association
with Toledo's pioneering progressive
mayor, Samuel M. "Golden Rule"
Jones, who felt passionately on this
subject, enhanced these emotions. From
clients and their friends, Whitlock
learned of the awful conditions in Ohio
prisons that he could never know
firsthand. Like Jones, from whom he got
the idea, Whitlock argued for acceptance
of the "Golden Rule." Compas-
sion, coupled with a second chance,
could rehabilitate far better than could
punishment. No men, he thought, are
truly bad, they are made bad only by
the adverse environment in which they
live. What good does it do, Whitlock
repeatedly asked, to punish instead of
help? An article so entitled appeared
in Everybody's Magazine, at the
time a leading muckraking forum.8
To make his case, the Mayor aimed
directly at the complacent middle
class. Crime and criminals proliferate,
he asserted, because of "the igno-
rance of the wise"; the respectable
citizen's assumption is:
There is a certain portion of mankind,
called the "criminal class,"
which differs from all the rest, and not
only wishes to sin and commit
crime, but is determined to sin and
commit crime.
. . . The only way to stop these persons
from sinning and committing
crime is to punish them, to threaten and
hurt them; to create, as it were,
some fearsome, horrible monster, and set
it up before them.9
No criminal class existed, Whitlock
stated, only a "punished class or a
caught class." The one thing most of
these people had in common was
poverty. Could it be true, he asked,
that "the only crime consists in being
poor?"
Whitlock hedged in answering his own
question, preferring to make
moral proclamations. A magistrate, he
claimed,
Has no means of knowing the really
significant things about the man
before him .... He has no means of
knowing how far the man has been
the prey of economic forces that the
judge does not understand, or what
hidden physical defect may have created
moral defect or obliquity in
him. All the judge knows is that in a
certain book it is printed that be-
tween minimum and maximum limitations
there is a mysterious num-
ber of years that must be prescribed for
burglary, another sum for lar-
ceny of a sum over $35 . . . and so
on.10
Whitlock ended the article on a highly
virtuous note:
We need not trouble ourselves to see
that others are punished for
their sins; the higher inexorable law
takes care of that. Sin, if it is not
its own punishment, brings its own
punishment in its own time. God
is not mocked.11
"What Good Does It Do?"
sharply illustrates Whitlock's awareness of
what Hofstadter called "the psychic
function" in muckraking. Middle-class
citizens accepted admonishment with a
conscience-stricken sense of obliga-
tion. But what could be done? Certainly
not change a society in which the
8 OHIO HISTORY
respectable people figured so
prominently. What was needed was "a feeling
that action was taking place, a sense
that the moral tone of things was get-
ting better and that [one] had a part in
this improvement."12
Whitlock's conviction that capital
punishment was wrong is revealed in
"Thou Shalt Not Kill," a
classic indictment of this age-old practice. He ap-
pealed once again to the middle class,
assuming that awareness was in itself
progress. He sought to make the
"wise" uneasy, to communicate to them
that something was wrong.
Whitlock found no proof that capital
punishment deters. On the con-
trary, he thought that fewer murders
occur in places where capital punish-
ment had already been abolished.13 What,
then, was the reason for its per-
petuation? "I never knew a man to
indorse capital punishment," he main-
tained,
That he did not do so, in the end,
vindictively and angrily, and the
same primitive feeling is invariably
present in newspaper editorials
when they join or lead the mob that
clamors at the heels of some mur-
derer; it is always present in the
bearing and speech of the prosecutor,
who invariably urges the jury in his hot
closing appeal to remember the
victim of the murderer and to have
sympathy for that victim alone.
And more than all, it is shown in the
temper of the crowds that attend
murder trials and in public sentiment as
one finds it expressing itself
about the town.14
In short,
The spirit that was in the murderer's
heart is the same spirit . . . in
society that kills the murderer, and no
good can ever come from a spirit
that is but an accumulation of hatred
and revenge, and so long as that
spirit is kept alive in the world, just
so long will there be killing in the
world.15
He ends without any positive suggestion
as to how the penalty of capital
punishment might be abolished. The
purpose of the article is simply righ-
teous exhortation. First, society must
understand its responsibility. Then, a
moral judgment: "We try to hurt,
and never help; we go on wantonly wast-
ing human life and deforming human
souls, and call it Civilization!"16
In
reading pleas like these, one can see
how the muckrakers appealed to an
ethos of personal responsibility in
their readers.
A third example is the small book, first
published in 1910, entitled On
the Enforcement of Law in Cities.17
It appeared initially as an open
letter
to a group of Protestant clergymen who
had vociferously attacked Whit-
lock's administration. Because it proved
so popular with the Mayor's fol-
lowers, they had it reprinted several
times; but that it convinced many of
the clergy is to be doubted. He used
this opportunity primarily to publicize
the disparity between legislation and
the customs people actually live by.
This conception of the law, if rather
static, did nonetheless reflect the ex-
isting situation in a heterogeneous
industrial city, Whitlock believed. People
from diverse social, ethnic, and
religious backgrounds naturally held dif-
ferent beliefs about liquor, sex, and
gambling. Here he showed a sensitivity
BRAND WHITLOCK 9
to the dilemma of the newly-arrived
immigrant. He further displayed his
awareness that the zealous proponents of
sumptuary reform were usually of
old stock Yankee-Protestant background
who were particularly suspicious of
newcomers.
A favorite program in many American
cities during the progressive era
was the crusade to stamp out the
"social evil."18 Prostitution provides an
excellent illustration of Whitlock's
struggle to portray human failing in a
new light. Toledo reformers wanted the
mayor to endorse their plans for its
elimination, and, when he would not do
so, they attacked him viciously,
accusing him of tolerating the illicit
activity. Of course Whitlock never de-
fended prostitution, but he did try to
convince his fellow citizens that
these women were human beings. He even
tried to regulate the vice, im-
parting his conviction that it was
fundamentally an economic problem.
Although a solution was difficult to
find, he pleaded for an understanding
of the problem's complexity.
Officials had contended with
prostitution for ages by passing laws, he
said in On Enforcement, but the
laws were not obeyed. Perhaps, there-
fore, prostitution could not be
controlled by laws based on moralistic prin-
ciples. How much more likely that the
vice existed because of involuntary
poverty. These poor women were unable to
earn a living in any other way.
If this were so, how could punishing
them help? Girls suffered social ostra-
cism once they had taken up prostitution
and could not afterwards obtain
respectable work even if they wanted it.
A prison record only compounded
the problem. They were unjustly
criticized, Whitlock decided, for perpet-
uating evils which were not of their
choosing.
To maintain the economic conditions
which produce these effects
and put these people in the tenderloin
and then to turn around and be-
rate and beat and destroy them, seems to
me a bigger crime than any
they have ever committed. It passes my
comprehension how any one
can look at them and see how miserable,
how poor, how wretched they
are and then have any feeling of hatred
for them, or wish to hurt them
more than we have hurt them already. In
one realizing their helpless-
ness, their dumb yearning for life, they
must inspire only feelings of
profoundest pity.19
Become aware, sympathize and understand,
he argued. Then we can do
something. Yet, in spite of this effort
to explain the economic basis of pros-
titution, Whitlock's approach to the
subject aptly illustrates his fondness
for moral preachment.
While these ventures were all factual
articles, Whitlock liked best to write
fiction. Aware of how other realists
like Norris and Upton Sinclair had used
the novel to expose, Whitlock was
determined to do it himself. The result
was a product of much hope and thought, The
Turn of the Balance, his
most influential novel. Into it Whitlock
poured all his indignation. If any
fiction could arouse people everywhere
to demand reform, he thought this
novel would do it.20
Inspiration again came from Whitlock's
observations during the years
he practiced law. The novel reflects its
author's repugnance for conditions
10 OHIO HISTORY
in a fictional midwestern city which
could only be Toledo. He had seen
much that was wrong in the police
treatment of criminals, much that
needed change in the courts and in the
prisons. Many of these conditions
he had tried to recreate in his
articles. The purpose of this novel, however,
is more than a realistic exposure; it is
an appeal for drastic action. Boldly
underlining the plot are the same
concepts, "ignorance of the wise" and the
assumption that the sources of poverty
and resulting crime are economic,
that appear in his other works, but in
addition the novel utilizes the muck-
raker philosophy that awareness leads to
progress.
The Turn of the Balance describes the destruction of a poor German
immigrant family, the Koerners. The
father loses a foot in a railroad yard
accident. Although he can never work
again, the company will not com-
pensate him for his injury. His eldest
son, Archie, a ne'er-do-well, served
heroically in the Army during the
Spanish-American War but cannot ad-
just to civilian life. He gives up
trying to hold a job and turns instead to
crime. This leads to conviction, imprisonment,
parole, rearrest, and recon-
viction. Eventually he murders a police
office and is sentenced to death.
Whitlock develops a parallel story of
Gordon Marriott, an idealistic
young attorney who is immersed in the
problems of the poor. Marriott
undertakes a damage suit for Mr. Koerner
and defends Archie when he is
tried for murder. Marriott loves
Elizabeth Ward, daughter of one of the
city's wealthiest and most respected
families. She had obtained his services
for the Koerners, whom she knew through
Archie's sister Gusta, a maid
in her home. Elizabeth's other suitor is
John Eades, an ambitious and un-
merciful young prosecutor. His goals in
court are simple: All criminals
must be convicted and punished. Eades is
uncompromising until asked
to prosecute Elizabeth's dissipated
younger brother Dick for embezzlement.
He cannot bring himself to do it. The
Wards are allowed to make restitu-
tion, proving that there are differing
legal standards for rich and poor.
The novel, although its plot is complicated,
has considerable narrative
power. While following the fortunes of
its many characters, the reader
gets an education in the inadequacies of
justice. Whitlock describes the
underworld and shows his familiarity
with it by using criminal slang. He
relates the ruthless methods of the
police as well as the indifference of the
magistrates, and he describes deplorable
prison conditions. Even his oppo-
sition to capital punishment recurs in
his coverage of Archie's last hours
of life.
The book often, however, becomes a
polemic. Many critics thought it
must be an exaggeration.21 Whitlock
insisted that he drew his story from
life, and that, if anything, his
picturization was too conservative. As he
explained in a letter to Steffens,
"I always believe everything bad I hear
about prisons and always believe the
worst and have never known any story
about the things that go on in prison
that was told half strongly enough."22
He insisted in his memoirs that he had
written the novel with extreme care.
"I was very careful of my
facts," he remembered,
I was purposely conservative, and,
forgetting the advice of Goethe,
softened things down. . . . And the wise
and virtuous judges and the
BRAND WHITLOCK 11
preachers and the respectable people all
said it was untrue, that such
things could not be.23
Superb as social protest, the novel does
have some deficiencies as litera-
ture. Like many a muckraking novel, The
Turn of the Balance overuses
type characters and incidents. Elizabeth
and Gusta, a rich girl and her
maid, then Marriott and Eades, the young
progressive and the young con-
servative, are examples of characters
deliberately set up as opposites. Rather
than stressing only characterization and
setting according to the formula for
realism Whitlock had learned from
Howells, the novel goes much further.
Often it resembles the pessimistic
determinism of European naturalist
Emile Zola, whose work Whitlock had
studied. Implausible, for instance,
are the air of hopelessness pervading
the entire novel and the tragedy
with which it ends. After Archie is
executed, the elder Koerner murders
the rest of his family and then commits
suicide. This led Kansas journalist
William Allen White to remark:
That isn't natural. Hell isn't filled by
whole families. People go to
hell one at a time, and not in car-load
lots. A man goes to hell for some
special reason, not because of a general
condition, and if one member
of the family goes to hell, he only
brings in a minority report.24
Setting forth the bleak conditions in
which the Koerners lived, Whitlock
became so immersed in his message that
he fell victim to a brutalism which
Zola might have handled well. In
Whitlock it seems more like melodrama.
There are other stereotyped incidents.
Dick Ward had escaped prosecu-
tion for embezzlement because he was the
son of a wealthy and respected
man. But early in the novel, Dick's father
had consented to the prosecution
of a young employee who had stolen a
small sum from his business. It was
Harry Graves' first crime, too. While
Dick needed the money to pay his
gambling debts, Harry needed it to
support his mother. The message con-
veyed by the incident is almost too
obvious. Gusta Koerner turned to pros-
titution to help provide an income for
her struggling family. Is this why
all prostitutes turn to vice? Whitlock
seems to ask. Do they make money
at it? As one final example, police
officer Kouka, who had made Archie's
punishment a personal crusade, was
devoid of human traits. Overdrawn
as a vindictive policeman, Kouka
contradicts Whitlock's contention, which
he widely publicized as mayor, that
police officers could be human beings.
The Turn of the Balance also illustrates Whitlock's literary dependence.
As has been stated, he often sought to
incorporate in his own work certain
qualities he admired in other writers.
In this novel, however, Whitlock
drifted away from the front-porch
realism of Howells, turning to Zola for
mood, and particularly to the Russian
Leo Tolstoy for his plot and charac-
terization. The similarity between The
Turn of the Balance and Resur-
rection (1899), Tolstoy's magnificent novel of social protest,
is so striking
that the latter must have been a model.
The Russian paid assiduous at-
tention to uninterested judges and
sordid prison conditions. The ignor-
ance of the wise was not different in
Tolstoy's Russia from that in Whit-
lock's Toledo.
12 OHIO HISTORY
When enthusiastic, Whitlock could be
most imitative. One suspects that
the inspiration for Archie's plight
comes from Tolstoy's tragic prostitute
Maslova, who was convicted for murder.
Gordon Marriott's altruism re-
sembles that of Prince Nekhludov,
Tolstoy's troubled young aristocrat. In-
spired by his love for Maslova, whom he
had once seduced, and guilt-
ridden by her fate, Nekhludov dedicates
his life to the eradication of pov-
erty and injustice.
Whitlock also creates episodes that
resemble those in Tolstoy's book.
Prince Nekhludov is following a gang of
miserable prisoners, which in-
cludes Maslova, through the streets to
the railroad station where they are
to be sent to Siberia. He watches as the
procession halts the progress of a
handsome carriage containing a wealthy
family of four who are angered
at the delay. The father upbraids his
coachman for exposing them to the
distasteful spectacle, even though he
himself had directed the route they
should follow.25 In like
manner, one day Elizabeth Ward and her mother
are returning home in their carriage.
They pass a group of prisoners be-
ing transferred from the city jail to the
railroad station en route to the
state penitentiary. In their number,
Elizabeth sadly notes, is Harry Graves,
the young embezzler. Mrs. Ward is
unsympathetic, incensed only that her
chauffer had brought them through a part
of town where they must en-
dure such sights.26
At the conclusion of Resurrection, Prince
Nekhludov realizes that to
regain his self-respect he must sell his
property and devote the proceeds to
a crusade for social reform. A remedy
for injustice could be found only in
the answer that Christ once gave to
Peter, "to forgive everything, everyone,
to forgive unceasingly, never to grow
weary in forgiving. There are no
men living who do not need forgiveness,
and therefore there are no men
living fit to correct or punish
others."27 Resurrection ends on a note of
high optimism. Whitlock, despite the
pessimistic tone of his novel, does
allow Elizabeth to ask the question,
"Was the one crime, then, in being
poor?"28
In The Turn of the Balance, Whitlock
made his most eloquent plea for
social justice. Despite a lack of
passion, for the mild Whitlock could never
hope to rival Tolstoy's massive spirit,
the novel is a striking contribution
to the literature of social protest in
America. Nowhere else in his work does
Whitlock better convey his awareness of
injustice or his anger at existing
conditions.
Clearly, the articles and books
described here illustrate the muckrakers'
purpose and technique. If we trouble the
conscience of America enough,
these writers reasoned, we have
accomplished something. Awareness would
result in a demand for social action.
Whitlock was perceptive enough to
realize the significance of the
movement, to see how closely it matched his
own thinking, and to cleverly use its
method to publicize conditions which
troubled him. To call him a muckraker,
then, is indeed appropriate.
THE AUTHOR: Neil Thorburn is as-
sistant professor of history at
Eastern Illi-
nois University.
Notes
A PUBLIC OFFICIAL
AS MUCKRAKER: BRAND WHITLOCK
1. See Neil Thorburn, "William Dean
Howells as a Literary Model: The Experience
of Brand Whitlock," Northwest
Ohio Quarterly, XXXIX (Winter 1966-67), 22-35. Albert
Jay Nock was a frequent adviser, and
portions of Whitlock's autobiographical, Forty
Years of It (New York, 1914), were serialized in The American
Magazine, LXXV (Jan-
uary-June 1913). Whitlock corresponded
often with Lincoln Steffens, Miss Tarbell, and
other prominent journalists. See the
correspondence files ca. 1903-1910, Whitlock Papers,
Library of Congress.
2. Quoted in Richard Hofstadter, The
Age of Reform: From Bryan to F. D. R. (New
York, 1955), 197-198. Cantwell's
article, "Journalism--Magabines," can be found in Harold
E. Stearns, ed., America Now, An
Inquiry into Civilization in the United States (New
York, 1938), 345-355.
3. Ibid., 200-201. The
traditional interpretation of muckraking is C. C. Regier, The
Era of the Muckrakers (Chapel Hill, 1932); the best and most influential is
Louis Filler,
Crusaders for American Liberalism (Yellow Springs, Ohio, 1961). See also Filler's essay
"The Muckrakers: In Flower and
Failure," in Donald Sheehan and Harold C. Syrett, eds.,
Essays in American Historiography:
Papers Presented in Honor of Allan Nevins (New
York, 1960), 251-270. More recent are
David Chalmers, The Social and Political Ideas
of the Muckrakers (New York, 1964); Louis G. Geiger,
"Muckrakers--Then and Now,"
Journalism Quarterly, XLIII (Autumn 1966), 469-476; and Stanley K. Schultz,
"The
Morality of Politics: The Muckrakers'
Vision of Democracy," Journal of American His-
tory, LII (December 1965), 527-547.
4. Judson A. Grenier, "Muckraking
and the Muckrakers: A Historical Definition,"
Journalism Quarterly, XXXVII (Autumn 1960), 558.
5. In 1933 Whitlock wrote to his friend
Julian Street, "It always irritates me to be
classed with reformers. I never was a
reformer. I hate reformers, and most of the time
during the four terms -- eight years --
I served as Mayor I was engaged in a row with
them." Allan Nevins, ed., The
Letters and Journal of Brand Whitlock (New York, 1936),
Vol. 1: The Letters, 537.
6. Brand Whitlock, "The City and
the Public Utility Corporation," World Today,
XIX (September 1910), 957-964; and
"Trust Men Go to Jail," Collier's Weekly, XXXVII
(July 14, 1906), 15, 24, 26. The first
article later reappeared as part of Forty Years of It.
7. See for examples Ben B. Lindsey and
Harvey J. O'Higgins, The Beast (New York,
1910); and Frederic C. Howe, "A
City in the Life-Saving Business," Outlook, LXXXVIII
(January 18, 1908), 123-127, and "A
Golden Rule Chief of Police," Everybody's Maga-
zine, XXII (June 1910), 814-823.
8. Brand Whitlock, "What Good Does
It Do?" Everybody's Magazine, XVI (May
1907), 579-589. There are a number of
letters from prison inmates to Whitlock in the
correspondence files ca. 1903-1910,
Whitlock Papers, Library of Congress.
9. Whitlock, "What Good Does It
Do?" 585.
68 OHIO
HISTORY
10. Ibid., 588.
11. Ibid., 589.
12. Richard Hofstadter, The Age of
Reform (New York, 1955), 210.
13. Brand Whitlock, "Thou Shalt Not
Kill," The Reader, IX
(March 1907), 385.
14. Ibid., 389.
15. Ibid., 390.
16. Ibid., 392.
17. There are many versions of this
short tract, no two of which are identical. The
edition used here was published in
Indianapolis by the Bobbs-Merrill Company in 1913.
The first edition appeared in 1910.
18. Roy Lubove, "The Progressives
and the Prostitute," The Historian, XXIV (May
1962), 308-330.
19. Brand Whitlock, On the
Enforcement of Law in Cities (Indianapolis, 1913),
42-43.
20. Brand Whitlock, The Turn of the
Balance (Indianapolis, 1907). An early ver-
sion had been completed in 1905.
Substantial revisions were slowed by Whitlock's duties
and delayed publication for nearly two
years.
21. Two representative reviews are:
Harry J. Smith, "Some Recent Novels," The
Atlantic Monthly, C (July 1907), 130-131, and Charles E. Russell, The
Arena, XXXVIII
(August 1907), 209-210.
22. Whitlock to Lincoln Steffens, March
2, 1909, Steffens Papers, Columbia Uni-
versity Library.
23. Brand Whitlock, Forty Years of It
(New York, 1914), 122.
24. William Allen White to Whitlock, May
6, 1907, Whitlock Papers, Library of
Congress.
25. Leo Tolstoy, Resurrection, trans.
by Vera Traill (New York, 1961), 320-321.
26. Whitlock, The Turn of the
Balance, 78-81.
27. Tolstoy, Resurrection, 428.
28. Whitlock, The Turn of the
Balance, 615.
AMERICA'S FIRST
RED SCARE--THE CINCINNATI REDS OF 1869
1. The actual figure for consecutive
victories is in dispute. The figure 81 is that of
Henry Chadwick, the contemporary
sportswriter and acknowledged "father of the game."
See, Chadwick's Base Ball Manual,
1871, 46, 111. However, Beadles Dime Base-Ball Player,
1870, 63-64, also edited by Chadwick, gives a total of 88.
The counting of informal games
is the heart of the dispute.
2. See David Quentin Voigt, American
Baseball: From Gentleman's Sport to the Com-
missioner System (Norman, Okla., 1966), 3-13, for details.
3. Philadelphia North American and
United States Gazette, June 10, 1864; Fred Lieb,
The Baltimore Orioles (New York, 1953), 6.
4. Harry Wright, Note and Account Books,
Volume I, Spalding Collection, New York
Public Library; Henry Chadwick,
Scrapbooks, Volume I, 17, ibid.
5. Sporting Life, January 26,
1887; see Chadwick's column.
6. The Sporting News, December 14, 1895; Washington Star, August 14,
1927, October
1, 1953.
7. Wright, Note and Account Books, I.
8. Chadwick, Scrapbooks, I, 17.
9. Ibid., I, 17-18; see also New York Clipper, February
13, 20, 1869.
10. John Kiernan, "Harry
Wright," article in Dumas Malone, ed., Dictionary of
American Biography (New York, 1936), XX, 554. See also Allan
Nevins, The Emergence
of Modern America, 1865-1878 (New York, 1928), 216-227.
11. New York Clipper, April 30,
1869; Sporting Life, January 23, 1884; Harry Ellard,
Baseball in Cincinnati: A History (Cincinnati, 1907), 138-209.
12. New York Clipper, January 9,
1869, March 13, 1869; Chadwick Scrapbooks, VI, 21.
13. Cincinnati Commercial, August
26, September 3, 1868; Ellard, Baseball in Cin-
cinnati, 138-154.
14. Ibid., 142; St. Louis Globe
Democrat, October 5, 1884.
15. Chadwick, Scrapbooks, VI, 21.
16. Ellard, Baseball in Cincinnati, 83-84.
Senator Joseph McCarthy's abortive in-