Island Park was used by several Richmond sports from its opening in 1890 to its closure circa 1897, and again when it reopened as Mayo Island Park in 1921. It hosted Richmond's first football team during the first period, and replaced Boulevard Field the latter time; in both cases, it supplemented their on-campus venue, Stadium Field. A popular location for neutral site football games, it was replaced in 1929 by City Stadium, though baseball remained until 1941, when Mooers Field was constructed.

Overall, NC State had a record of 0-3 at this field, losing three consecutive years to VMI in neutral-site Southern Conference matchups.

  * Non-conference games

Mayo Island (or Mayo's Island) is an island located in the middle of the James River, which bisects the city of Richmond from east to west. The island has long been of interest for enterprising members of the River City, including one William Mayo (1685-1744), who is best remembered for having laid out Richmond's street grid in 1737. Mayo hoped to build a bridge between what was then the city of Manchester (to the south) and Richmond, an improvement over the ferry system then used. His son, John Mayo (1737-1786) was granted a charter to do this in 1785; he passed before its completion, leaving his son, John Mayo, Jr., to finish the task. The first bridge, completed in 1788, was a pontoon bridge and featured a toll booth located about the middle -- at Mayo Island -- to help defray the proprietors for their efforts.

Eventually, other forms of enterprise found their way across the James River. It's not clear when it started, but by the 1870s a sawmill was located on the island. Picnics and balls (the dancing kind) were held on the island as early as 1885, and in 1881 the Olympic Boating Club (a social and athletic club, forerunner to the Virginia Boating Club) had made Mayo Island their home, building their boathouse just east of the bridge. In February 1890, the Richmond Athletic Association organized, and from the start they had eyes for the riverine property: "Besides base-ball," crowed a local ad, "there will be other attractions. It is the intention of the association to make Mayo's Island a pleasant resort, where any lady or gentleman can spend a pleasant and quiet hour" [1].

Work on the diamond, known initially as Island Park, began around late February. Located adjacent to the boathouse, the plan was to construct a park with an average width of 380 feet and a gate-to-centerfield distance of 515 feet, as well as a 100'x28' grandstand large enough for about 800 people; seats were provided from the Exhibition Building. High fences, reaching about 7' tall at their apex, were, naturally a must to try and keep fly balls from floating away. The park was even outfitted with a "passimetre," an early version of a turnstyle used for counting attendance -- the first such device in Richmond. The club was afforded a 3-year lease and a dressing room in the form of an old dwelling near the bridge [2].

As opening day came, everything was going swimmingly -- except the small matter of weather. The Richmond Athletics were to have opened their season against the Baltimore Orioles on March 22nd, 1890 (though it would be "some weeks before the park assumes the perfect condition"), but rain canceled the opening game. The following Monday, perhaps 1,000 persons saw Richmond lose 6-8 to the professionals. Rain and mud frequently hampered early games -- though management pointed to their lack of infield sodding as the culprit, it's worth noting that the island, then as now, sat at a low elevation and was subject to periodic flooding. Unfortunately, the Athletics folded in mid-May, blaming their independent status and difficulty scheduling games of note [3] [4].

Though their professional team folded, amateur and collegiate ball still prevailed. Other sports also found good footing on the muddy island: on November 29th, 1890, Island Park held its first football game. A match between Trinity (now Duke) and Virginia for the championship of the South*, the Cavaliers won 10-4. Amateur and collegiate baseball and football prevailed for the next 3 years, while rowing also continued to surge in popularity. Independent teams representing Richmond against professional competition continued to spring up each year through 1893, but attendances were rarely, if ever, reported to be larger than 1,000 persons. Apparently an early problem with recouping costs of hosting games was that an inordinate number of spectators chose to watch from the roof of the VBC's boathouse, rather than paying to enter [5].

During this time, the grounds were improved at least twice: once in February 1892 and again in February 1894. In the former renovation, the original grandstand structure was town down and replaced by one "which will abut on the street... between the two bridges"** (rather than being separated by a fence, as it was before), and in the latter the field was enlarged, new bleachers provided, and the diamond "moved slightly to the left." Both updates seem to imply the orientation of the field remained the same, which was on the boathouse (east) side of the island. Combining the report from opening day that the ground "left of the homeplate" was "the narrowest part of the field" and abutting the road, we can infer that the grandstand was likely on the southwestern corner of that plot [2] [4] [6].

The latter improvement may have been an attempt to bring professional baseball back to the island before the original lease ended; it ultimately proved unsuccessful. Island Park was supplanted in March 1894 by West End Park, which was located at the corner of Main and Vine Streets. The 1893 Virginia-North Carolina football game (a 16-to-nothing blowout win by the Old Dominion team which saw the island overwhelmed with nearly 4,000 persons) was the island's final event. Tar Heel fans lambasted the island, writing that "Richmond as a city should be ashamed of Island Park," going on to add that the grounds were "disguistingly poor, the facilities for reaching them poorer, and no accomodations for a good sized crowd exist at all." Mayo Island was practically abandoned for non-rowing athletics after this, though amateur baseball teams continued to play through about 1897 [7].

In the meantime, the island began to revert towards more commercial pursuits, with proprietor Ware B. Gay (a Boston native who relocated to Richmond for coal intersts) attempting to convert it to a manufacturing hub. He did this largely by constructing a 25 foot tall stone wall around the island and filling it in with stones and mud: I believe this action is when Mayo and a neighboring island formerly known as either Sawmill Island or Confluence Island were combined. The work enlarged Mayo Island considerably, and also allowed Gay to raise the overall height of the island as well. He planned to host 3 manufacturing plants on the island by summer of 1900 or 1901 [8].

While there were a handful of sheds constructed, no major business seems to have forded the James' waters to Mayo Island. Instead, it remained of note mostly for the repeated speculations the island and its bridge would be purchased for the construction of a free bridge in place of the old toll bridge. Even when the city did finally acquire the bridge (but not the land) in 1910, it was still only "rumored" that warehouses would be developed there. In the meantime, the only development noted in local papers was an attempt to convert the grounds into a park for African Americans in 1906; this was largely unsuccessful.

The new bridge, purchased to help unify the merger between Richmond and Manchester that same year, was completed over a period from 1910 to 1913; engineers deconstructing the former bridge, built in 1877, declared it a miracle the structure was still standing, calling it "utterly unsafe" -- apparently, the bridge piers were just rocks stacked along the water bed, held down by nothing but the weight of the bridge. This is especially surprising considering former bridges in this location had been swept away a half dozen times in the previous century [9].

On December 31st, 1920, it was announced that Richmond's professional baseball would be returning to Mayo Island after owner Ben W. Wilson, who owned Boulevard Field, was ousted from club ownership amid managerial disputes. Though originally envisioned with concrete stands, the size of the island necessitated building the grandstand on piles overhanging the James River. Including the grandstand and two sets of bleachers, early reports indicated there was room for 10,000 persons, though pictures from the season-opening game between the Climbers and the Petersburg Goobers (which the home team lost 5-6) showed a full house and a reported capacity of only 7,500. The initial bill was about $12,000 (about $210,000 in 2024) for the 400' x 500' field. In baseball configuration, the field measured 294' x 400' x 356', left to right [10].

By 1923, the field was already in poor enough shape that the Richmond Colts did their spring training in Littleton, North Carolina, and the collegiate Richmond Spiders were forced to relocate a handful of early baseball games to their campus field. While most of the hinderance was a temporary fence erected for football season which cut through midfield, it was also reported that the bleachers needed work and that heavy rains had damaged the infield [11].

Flooding proved to be a consistent issue over the life of the stadium, with major inundations taking place in 1924, 1928, 1936 and 1937. Additionally, the field turned into a quagmire each time it rained. "More often than not," wrote researcher Harry M. Ward, "football games on the converted baseball field took place in a sea of mud." During the 1924 game between Richmond and Hampden-Sidney, one spectator quipped that the flooding was so severe that after halftime, "the two teams will go on the field in rowboats, equipped with water wings and life preservers." During the 1925 VMI-NC State game, a sportswriter concluded that "A more dismal day or setting for football could not have been pictured" [12] [13].

The entire island was acquired by new owners in November 1924, and with the fresh faces came fresh ideas on how to improve the site. Poor facilities were blamed for a precipitous decline in the annual attendance of Colts games, with the grandstand in particular being targeted as notably deficient: it had room for fewer than 1,000 fans, and what room it did have consisted of cramped bench seating. There were repeated talks by the new owners of tearing down the stands, reorienting the field so the grandstand was in the northwest corner, and enlarging the field by about 50' in length by suspending the grandstand further over the water [14]. Lack of parking was also a frequent source of complaints. Though most of those improvements never came to fruition, the field was outfitted with its first football scoreboard during the 1925 season, albeit by a private party: local boosters of the Virginia Military Institute constructed it on the "lower end" of the island. Capable of indicating possession, yards to gain, the period, and penalties, the board was considered among the best in the country [15].

Construction finally began on a new steel frame grandstand in March 1926, concurrent with a plan to rename the park Tate Field, in honor of ardent local baseball supporter Edward "Pop" Tate. Built at a cost of $20,000 (about $355,000 in 2024), the new seats, once numbered, added up to 6,103 (plus a segregated section) in football configuration: 2,359 seats in the grandstand, and about 2,000 each per bleacher, with the north side holding slightly more persons, at 2,016 seats and the south side at 1,728. Reports prior to baseball season indicated a much more ambitious 10,000 person capacity, though it was likely roughly the same [16].

Evidently, the whole thing was not actually torn down and rebuilt as advertised, because on October 22nd, 1927, catastrophe struck. During the first quarter of the Maryland-VMI football game, star Cadet halfback Al Barnes made a sensational 21-yard run. When the spectators stood to cheer, a portion of the Section A bleachers (the southern bleachers) collapsed, sending about 175 persons approximately 20 feet to the ground below. The wreckage caused 101 injuries, 15 of which were considered serious and 2 life-threatening. Amazingly, no one perished in the accident.

Public sentiment began to turn against the park after this, and was ultimately a major contributing factor towards the creation of City Stadium. While the floods and limited parking had been annoyances, the disaster emphasized Richmond's long-standing need for a proper concrete stadium. No party was found to be criminally negligent, though fault was evenly split between the park owners and Richmond's Building Inspection Bureau; inspectors had recommended certain rotten sections of the stands be replaced or repaired, and though their requests were met, it was insufficient. During the investigation it was found that the portion of the stands which collapsed were built in 1923, but had not been properly maintained and consequently were riddled with weak spots. An independent report by American Lumberman found that the wood used was of a weaker quality, was not protected from the elements by any paint or preservatives, and the posts supporting the stand were not supported with masonry piers [17].

Rather than immediately rebuilding the collapsed stands, park ownership instead focused on strengthening the remaining seats. For the rest of the 1927 football season, the park held pat with the remaining 4,500 seats (plus room for 4,000 standing patrons), even eschewing the construction of temporary stands. The following February, plans emerged to replace both the collapsed bleachers to the south, as well as the old left field bleachers, which had been comdemned, with new weather-resistant creosote stands with closely-spaced support pilings extending down to the river [18].

After several years of dwindling profits, the old management wanted out, and sold the club ahead of the 1932 baseball season. The Colts were purchased by Eddie Mooers, a recently-retired baseball player from Richmond who had been in the minor league system since 1917, playing several times for his hometown team. When Mooers purcahsed the team, the question of where to play came up, and though Mooers had a slight preferance for the old familiar stomping grounds, he began putting feelers out to play in City Stadium. Though the two were close to working out a deal (with the allure of installing lights for a night game being a major drawing card), it was utlimately scuttled after park ownership demanded that receipts from night games go towards defraying the cost of installing said lights [19]. Mooers remained at Tate Field for the remainder of the venue's life, repeatedly electing not to move due to the financial uncertainty associated with the decision [12].

In what was nearly a devastating blow, the park was condemned in April 1932, just weeks before opening day. Mooers rightly pitched a fit, threatening to move the club, possibly to a different city. The city's condemnation was surprising considering the fact sections of the stands had been replaced in their entirety as recently as 1931, and others repaired as requested by the inspector following the sale. Despite the threats by both parties, things were smoothed over, and baseball continued on at Tate Field. This was both a good and a bad thing, as repeated floods continued to do considerable damage: floods in 1934 and 1935 washed away the right field bleachers, while a pair of floods each of the next two years wreaked further havoc.

At the same time, Mayo Island saw a spate of minor improvements. In 1932, the old scoreboard ("the most curious and antiquated score board yet to be discovered in a league baseball park") was replaced -- I believe this was original to the second edition of the park, in 1921. Midway through the 1933 season, lights were installed for the first time, allowing for Richmond's second-ever night baseball game***. Night baseball proved to be incredibly popular in Richmond [20].

The field was graded and improved basically every year, often after being washed out by the river. A flood in August 1940 was the final major one to strike the field, washing away the outfield fence and dragging the bleachers "to the end of their emergency anchor ropes." Despite grumblings that he ought to rename his team the Dolphins, Mooers went through with repairs and opened the field for the season. Ironically, in the end, it wasn't the flooding that spelled disaster for the Colts' island home -- it was actually the opposite. Late in the evening of May 25th, 1941, fire tore through the field, burning the grandstand and part of the right field bleachers. In the aftermath, Mooers swore "If I rebuild, it won't be at the present site. There will not be any more ball games at Tate Field" [12].

Because of the emergency, City Stadium was pressed into service for home games. The arrangement was less than ideal: first, the lack of lighting meant games had to be played in the afternoon, even on weekdays -- an immensely unpopular proposition; second, the stadium's outfield was positively gargantuan compared to that of the island; third, the team had been built around taking advantage of Tate Field's short dimensions, especially in left field; and fourth, City Stadium owners levied a rent widely seen as onerous in spite of the extenuating circumstances.

Mitigating the damage as they could, officials elected to hold weekday games out of town to avoid business-hour conflicts, and weekend games were played as double-headers. Still, attendance lagged: their July 25th date agsint the Asheville Tourists was played before just 169 fans. Worse than the dwindling attendance, however, was the faltering on-field product: by early July, the Colts had gone 5-11 over the last three weeks (and 0 for 5 in their most recent outings) after starting the season even through 30 games. Mooers knew he had to do something. He decided to play out the remainder of the season on a resuscitated Tate Field, begging or borrowing some 3,300 unshaded bleacher seats from various sources, including 1,000 from the rival Norfolk Tars. Though the move provided a brief spark, getting the Colts back to 0.500 in late July, a rash of injuries eventually sank them to a 67-71 record, good for a fifth-place in the 8-team league [21].

That pretty much spelled the end for Tate Field. Just days after announcing he'd reneged in his promise to forsake Mayo Island, Mooers announced the acquisition of a new property in west Richmond, at the intersection of Norfolk and Roseneath streets -- blocks from the old location of Boulevard Field. Mooers called the fire a "blessing in the long run," finally providing the motive to move from the decrepit old site on the island. "No more trials by water and no more trials by fire," quipped Mooers. "No more trials period. I hope." Local sports writers were also glad for the change, though for a different reason: the new ballfield "will eliminate all the difficulty we had in deciding whether to call the old field Tate Field, Mayo Island, Island Park or just that blankety-blanked water hole." The new venue was named Mooers Field in Eddie's honor [12] [22].

I've been unable to determine exactly when Tate Field was demolished. Bleachers remained through 1942 (a flood that October was widely reported to have covered over the park), but the grandstands torn down by 1944; details beyond that, however, are sparse. By 1946, the site was the base for Richmond Hauling and Excavating Company, a site which specialized in concrete work, and by 1951, trucking interests took over the spot, helmed by Overnite Trucking (now UPS Freight). This remained the principal interest on the east side of the island until 1996 [23].

* On what grounds the game could be considered a championship is unclear: Trinity played no other games that Fall. Admittedly, there was not much competition otherwise.

** Here, I believe the reporter is describing the northern and southern halves of Mayo's Bridge, rather than the two bridges which crossed the island at the time (the former, to the east, and the Richmond & Danville Railroad, now Norfolk Southern, to the west).

*** The first was a 1931 game at City Stadium against the House of David baseball team, which furnished their own portable lights for the contest.

Pictures of Tate Field