Algonquin Round Table History,News Heywood Broun on Babe Ruth in 1922

Heywood Broun on Babe Ruth in 1922

With baseball season around the corner, let’s look at one of the many Algonquin Round Table links to the game. In the world of New York newspaper columnists in the Jazz Age, Heywood Broun stood out from the rest. His column “It Seems To Me” was beloved, and he could tackle any subject. Broun had gotten his start as a baseball writer, and continued his passion for ballpark trips even when he became a celebrity covering Broadway and news stories. Broun had seats in the press box to watch Babe Ruth in his amazing 1921 season with the New York Yankees. This column appeared in 1922.

Ruth Vs. Roth
By Heywood Broun

We picked up “Who’s Who in America” yesterday to get some vital statistics about Babe Ruth, and found to our surprise that he was not in the book. Even as George Herman Ruth there is no mention of him. The nearest name we could find was: “Roth, Filibert, forestry expert; b. Württemberg, Germany, April 20, 1858; s. Paul Raphael and Amalie (Volz) R., early edn. in Württemberg—”

There is in our heart not an atom of malice against Prof. Roth (since September, 1903, he has been “prof. forestry, U. Mich.”), and yet we question the justice of his admission to a list of national celebrities while Ruth stands without. We know, of course, that Prof. Roth is the author of “Forest Conditions in Wisconsin” and of “The Uses of Wood,” but we wonder whether he has been able to describe in words uses of wood more sensational and vital than those which Ruth has shown in deeds. Hereby we challenge the editor of “Who’s Who in America” to debate the affirmative side of the question: Resolved, That Prof. Roth’s volume called “Timber Physics” has exerted a more profound influence in the life of America than Babe Ruth’s 1921 home-run record.

Heywood Broun

Heywood Broun

The question is, of course, merely a continuation of the ancient controversy as to the relative importance of the theorist and the practitioner: should history prefer in honor the man who first developed the hypothesis that the world was round or the other who went out and circumnavigated it? What do we owe to Ben Franklin and what to the lightning? Shall we celebrate Newton or the apple?

Personally, our sympathies go out to the performer rather than the fellow in the study or the laboratory. Many scientists staked their reputations on the fact that the world was round before Magellan set sail on the Vittoria. He did not lack written assurances that there was no truth in the old tale of a flat earth with dragons and monsters lurking just beyond the edges.

But suppose, in spite of all this, Magellan had gone on sailing, sailing until his ship did topple over into the void of dragons and big snakes. The professors would have been abashed. Undoubtedly they would try to laugh the misfortune off, and they might even have been good enough sports to say, “That’s a fine joke on us.” But at worst they could lose nothing but their reputations, which can be made over again. Magellan would not live to profit by his experience. Being one of those foreigners, he had no sense of humor, and if the dragons bit him as he fell, it is ten to one he could not even manage a smile.

By this time we have rather traveled away from Roth’s “Timber Physics” and Ruth’s home-run record, but we hope that you get what we mean. Without knowing the exact nature of “Timber Physics,” we assume that the professor discusses the most efficient manner in which to bring about the greatest possible impact between any wooden substance and a given object. But mind you, he merely discusses it. If the professor chances to be wrong, even if he is wrong three times, nobody in the classroom is likely to shout, “You’re out!”

The professor remains at bat during good behavior. He is not subject to any such vicissitudes as Ruth. Moreover, timber physics is to Mr. Roth a matter of cool and calm deliberation. No adversary seeks to fool him with speed or spitballs. “Hit it out” never rings in his ears. And after all, just what difference does it make if Mr. Roth errs in his timber physics? It merely means that a certain number of students leave Michigan knowing a little less than they should—and nobody expects anything else from students.

On the other hand, a miscalculation by Ruth in the uses of wood affects much more important matters. A strike-out on his part may bring about complete tragedy and the direst misfortune. There have been occasions, and we fear that there will still be occasions, when Ruth’s bat will be the only thing which stands between us and the loss of the American League pennant. In times like these who cares about “Forest Conditions in Wisconsin”?

Coming to the final summing up for our side of the question at debate, we shall try to lift the whole affair above any mere Ruth versus Roth issue. It will be our endeavor to show that not only has Babe Ruth been a profound interest and influence in America, but that on the whole he has been a power for progress. Ruth has helped to make life a little more gallant. He has set before us an example of a man who tries each minute for all or nothing. When he is not knocking home runs he is generally striking out, and isn’t there more glory in fanning in an effort to put the ball over the fence than in prolonging a little life by playing safe?

***

Adapted from The Lost Algonquin Round Table: Humor, Fiction, Journalism, Criticism and Poetry From America’s Most Famous Literary Circle (Donald Books/iUniverse). Edited by Nat Benchley and Kevin C. Fitzpatrick. Available Here.

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117 Years Ago Today 1st Guests Arrived at the Algonquin Hotel117 Years Ago Today 1st Guests Arrived at the Algonquin Hotel

Today is the anniversary of the opening of the Algonquin Hotel in 1902. Guests 117 years ago checked into the newest hotel on the block, located at No. 59-63 West Forty-fourth Street. When the Vicious Circle launched a century ago in 1919, it was but just 17 years old.

For the 2015 book The Algonquin Round Table New York: A Historical Guide (Globe Pequot), an entire chapter is devoted to the history of the hotel, its ownership era, and legends. A brief excerpt about the early days in 1902 begins:

“It isn’t the oldest hotel on the block. Both the Royalton at No. 44 and the Iroquois at No. 49 opened in 1900. In 1901-1902 the Thompson-Starrett Company built the Algonquin Hotel for the Puritan Realty Company. Puritan bought the plot, 72 x 100 feet, for $180,000 in November 1901. Construction of the one-hundred thirty-six foot tall building took just seven months. Puritan Realty put up the money, $500,000, and Thompson-Starrett acted as the architects and contractors. Twenty-eight year-old architect Goldwin Starrett worked on the hotel with his brothers Theodore, Ralph, and William.

It opened as the Hotel Algonquin, named for the Native Americans who were populous in New England during the pre-colonial era. “Algonquin” was chosen at the suggestion of first owner Ann Stetson Foster, because the Hotel Iroquois was already next-door. “It will make a veritable Indian settlement,” she said.

The first guests checked in on November 22, 1902. The twelve-story hotel had 192 rooms and suites. A room and bath en suite cost $2 a day, while a three-bedroom suite with private hall, sitting room, dining room, three bathrooms, and library would set you back $10. Following extensive renovations in 2012, the hotel now has 181 rooms; of those 25 are suites.”

The hotel is local and national literary landmark. We lift a glass to its continued history, success, and achievements. Here is a great podcast recorded inside the hotel by Greg and Tom, The Bowery Boys.

Frank and Bertha Case

I Found Frank CaseI Found Frank Case

I found Frank Case. I wasn’t even looking for him. I was in Oakland Cemetery in Sag Harbor, Long Island, for the first time. I was actually looking for a Doughboy for our WWI Homecoming 21 project. As I was walking along the line of graves, since I didn’t know the location, I was peering at each one as quickly as possible. At the corner of the cemetery, in the corner of my eye, was a lone mausoleum. There are not that many in Oakland, just a few, it is not Woodlawn. As I stepped closer I saw the name across the top: CASE.

I was so happy to see this. Here was the general manager and owner of the Algonquin Hotel.

I had known for many years that Case (1871-1946) had a second home in Sag Harbor. He wrote about the home in his books, as did his only daughter, Margaret Case Harriman. While Case was the most famous hotelier in America at one time, I never knew where he ended up after his death in Manhattan. I assumed, wrongly, that he had gone home to Buffalo, New York, his hometown, and where his first wife, Carrie Case, was buried in 1908 after she tragically died in the Algonquin Hotel following the birth of their son, Carrol.

Frank and Bertha Case

Frank and Bertha Case

One thing I learned a long time ago was to never trust the Internet. When I was researching my book The Algonquin Round Table New York: A Historical Guide (2015) I was on a mission to track down the final resting places of the Vicious Circle. I did locate almost all 30 of them, but there are a few that still escape me (where are you Jane Grant and Robert E. Sherwood?). But I found many inaccuracies and misinformation. I made a pass at looking for Case; one lead was he was buried in Woodlawn, which was wrong. Many obituaries list New Yorker’s would hold their memorials in Woodlawn, then the remains sent away to other towns for burial. What I suspect is after his death, which was just four months after his second wife, Bertha, his family brought Bertha and Frank to the receiving vaults of Woodlawn. Here they remained temporarily while the mausoleum was constructed in Sag Harbor. I guess if I had 10 hours of free time I could check the records of both cemeteries, so perhaps if someone reading this wants to hire me for a paid assignment I will do that.

I like finding this mausoleum and closing the circle on Frank Case, who was by all accounts beloved by friends and staff (but was anti-union). He was also, like me, a member of The Lambs (the clubhouse was 2 minutes away west on Forty-fourth Street, and many of the actors who were members also lived at the hotel, such as John Drew and nephew John Barrymore).

One story told in the obituary of Bertha Case is about Sag Harbor. Bertha was a housekeeper at the Algonquin, which is how she met Frank. During WWI she volunteered and went to France with the YMCA as a volunteer, and was friends with superstar Elsie Janis (also an Algonquin regular). She and Frank were married for 30 years. What Bertha did was use the flower gardens at the Sag Harbor house to provide floral arrangements for the hotel–which she oversaw. Sag Harbor is also where the Case family entertained friends, such as Robert Benchley.

If you are in Sag Harbor and the South Fork of Long Island, pay a visit to Frank and Bertha Case.

Marie Carroll, Robert Williams, Harry Bradley, Alfred White, John Cope and Howard Lang in scene from Abie's Irish Rose. Credit: Billy Rose Theatre Division, The New York Public Library.

Centennial of Abie’s Irish RoseCentennial of Abie’s Irish Rose

Marie Carroll, Robert Williams, Harry Bradley, Alfred White, John Cope and Howard Lang in scene from Abie's Irish Rose. Credit: Billy Rose Theatre Division, The New York Public Library.

Marie Carroll, Robert Williams, Harry Bradley, Alfred White, John Cope and Howard Lang in scene from Abie’s Irish Rose. Credit: Billy Rose Theatre Division, The New York Public Library.


Today the New York Times published a very thorough and detailed account of the centennial of Abie’s Irish Rose, a hit show 100 years ago that the Algonquin Round Table by turns roasted and scorned. The article quotes Robert Benchley and Alexander Woollcott, with a passing reference to another Vicious Circle member, Harpo Marx.

Opening a few days after St. Patrick’s Day 1922, Abie’s Irish Rose was the miracle show of the decade. Despite withering reviews and serving as the butt of jokes all over town, it ran for 2,327 performances—five years and five months. Anne Nichols wrote the unpretentious comedy allegedly based on a real-life story of a mixed-marriage she heard about. In her story, young Abraham Levy brings home from the war his blushing bride, Rosemary Murphy, a girl he met in France while she was entertaining the doughboys. But knowing how his family would take the news, he introduced her to his parents as Rosie Murpheyski. In the next act the Murphy clan comes over for a visit, and hilarity ensues.

The show appealed to audiences everywhere; at one time six road companies were touring the United States and others were in England and Australia. The playwright raked in more than $6 million and eventually had to cut down on the road companies because the income taxes were crushing her. All the major critics blasted the show, with the exception of Alexander Woollcott. One standout, and long-suffering, reviewer was Robert Benchley. He had to compose a few lines each week for a capsule review in Life. Among his finest gems were, “People laugh at this every night, which explains why democracy can never be a success,” and “Where do the people come from who keep this one going? You don’t see them on the streets in the daytime.”

Dorothy Parker, who is not included in the article, was working for Ainslee’s at the time. She lumped it in with another play of a similar type. In September 1922, she wrote, “And then there came, in quick succession, The Rotters and Abie’s Irish Rose. Despite its having one night’s start on its opponent, The Rotters was defeated by Abie’s Irish Rose for the distinction of being the season’s worst play.”

As the Times points out, no modern theater company is currently interested in a revival of Abie’s Irish Rose. Which may be a good thing.

The Dorothy Parker reviews from the era are collected in Dorothy Parker Complete Broadway, 1918-1923.