We were booked for a stay of two weeks in San Francisco, and that two weeks proved to be one continual round of pleasure for every member of the party. The appearance of the city itself was somewhat of a disappointment to me, and I soon grew somewhat tired of climbing up hill only to climb down again. The really fine buildings, too, were few and far between, the majority of them being low wooden structures that looked like veritable fire-traps. They are built of redwood, however, and this, according to the natives, is hard to burn. The fact that the towns had not burned down yet would seem to bear out the truth of their assertion, though the Baldwin Hotel was built of the same material, and that went up in flames a little over a year ago in such a hurry that some of the people who were stopping there thought themselves lucky to get off with the loss of their wardrobes and baggage, while others who were not so lucky never got out at all.
The natural surroundings of the city are, however, decidedly handsome, and I doubt if there is a handsomer sight anywhere than San Francisco Bay, a bay in which all of the navies of the world could ride at anchor and still have plenty of room for the merchant vessels to come and go. The shores of this bay are lined with beautiful little suburban towns that are within easy reach by boat and sail from San Francisco, and it is in these towns that a large proportion of the people doing business in the city reside. The people are most hospitable and at the time of our visit the base-ball foes and cranks, both in the same category, were as thick as were the roses, and roses in California greet you at every turn, not the hot-house roses of the East, that are devoid of all perfume, but roses that are rich with fragrance and that grow in great clusters, clambering about the doorways of the rich and poor alike, drooping over the gateways and making bright the hedges. Flowers were to be seen everywhere, and their cheapness at the time of our visit was both the wonder and delight of the ladies.
The day after our arrival, November 4th, dawned bright and beautiful, but the haggard faces and the sleep-laden eyes of the tourists when they assembled at a late hour in the Baldwin Hotel rotunda boded ill for a good exhibition of the art of playing base-ball that we were to give that day.
My forebodings in this respect proved true. The Haight grounds were crowded, 10,500 people paying admission to see the game, and great crowds lined the streets and greeted us with cheers as we drove in carriages to the scene of action. The practice work on both sides prior to the opening of the game was of a most encouraging character, but as for the game itself—well, the least said the better. Tired out with travel and the late hours of the night before, we were in no condition to do ourselves justice. We were over-anxious, too, to put up a great game, and this also told against us. Baldwin who pitched for us had no control of the ball, and the stone wall infield of the Chicagos, which included yours truly, was way off and could not field a little bit. The score, All-American 14 and Chicago 4, tells the story of the game. That the crowd was disappointed was easy to see. They were good-natured about it, however, and it is safe to say that they did not feel half so badly as we did. Our reputation was at stake and theirs was not. That was the difference.
Two days afterward the All-Americans played the Greenwood and Morans on the same grounds, and the 3,000 people who had assembled to witness the game saw the All-Americans get a most disgraceful trouncing at the hands of the local team, the score at the end of the game standing at 12 to 2. It was my misfortune to umpire this game, and I have often been accused since of having given the All-Americans the worst of the decision. It is always the privilege of the losers to kick at the umpire, however, and I have even been known to indulge in a gentle remonstrance myself when I thought the circumstances were justifiable. The truth of the matter is that it was the old story of late hours and a lack of condition, Crane being unsteady and the support accorded him not up to the standard, while the local club played a good game throughout, getting their hits in where they were needed and playing a really strong game in the field.
Before another crowd of 4,000 people, on November 6th, the All-Americans played the Pioneers, another local organization, and though Healy pitched a good game for the visitors they were beaten this time by a score of 9 to 4. Ward did not take part in the game on this occasion, he having taken a day off to shoot quail, and the defeat was largely chargeable to the costly errors divided up among Hanlon, Crane, Manning, Von Haltren, Wood and Fogarty.
In the meantime I had taken the Chicago team to Stockton, where on the same grounds as the All-Americans and Pioneers played we stacked up against the Stockton Club, then one of the strongest organizations in the Golden State. The 4,000 people assembled at the grounds there saw on that occasion as pretty a game as they could wish to see, the fielding on both sides being of the prettiest sort, and the work of the opposing pitchers, Tener for Chicago and Daly for Stockton, of the most effective character. At the end of the ninth inning the score was tied at 2 each, and the darkness coming on we were obliged to let it go at that, the people of Stockton being well pleased with the exhibition that they had been treated to by both teams, and especially jubilant over the fact that their own boys had been able to tie a nine of our calibre. The next day the Stockton team came down to San Francisco to measure strength with the All-Americans, Baker and Albright being their battery on this occasion, as opposed to Crane and Earle. The All-Americans, smarting under their two defeats at the hands of the local team, simply wiped up the ground with the Stockton boys on this occasion, pounding Baker all over the field and running up a score of 16 as against a single for their opponents. The showing made by the visitors on that occasion opened the eyes of the Californian ball-players and from that time on both the Pioneers and the Stocktons fought shy of both the visiting teams.
On the afternoon of November 10th we, and by that I mean the Chicago team, played the Haverlys before 5,000 spectators and defeated them after a pretty contest by a score of 6 to 1, Baldwin pitching an excellent game for the Chicagos, and Incell, who was at that time the idol of the Pacific Coast, a good game for the local team, though his support was weak.
The following day 6,000 people passed through the gates at the Haight street grounds to witness the second game between Chicago and All-American teams, and though this was marred by poor work here and there, the fielding was of such a brilliant character, especially the work of Chicago's stone wall, as to work the enthusiasm of the crowd up to the highest pitch. Tener and Von Haltren did the twirling on this occasion for Chicago and All-Americans respectively, and both of them were at their best. The All-Americans showed strongest at the bat, however, and as a result we were beaten by a score of 9 to 6. During the next week the team made a flying trip to Los Angeles, where two games were played, we being white-washed in the first one and beaten by a score of 7 to 4 in the second. This ended our ball-playing in California, for though it had been the intention to play a farewell game prior to our sailing for Australia, a steady rain that set in made this impossible.
When we were not playing ball we were either sightseeing in the neighborhood of San Francisco or else being entertained by some of the numerous friends that we made during our stay in "the glorious climate of California," the first supper at Marchand's being followed by a host of others, and dinner parties, banquets and theater parties were so thickly sandwiched in that it was a matter of wonderment that we were ever able to run the bases at all.
There was scarcely a single place of interest accessible to the city that we did not visit, from the Cliff House, which is one of the most popular resorts that Sari Francisco boasts of, its spacious grounds and verandas being thronged with people on Sundays and holidays, to the Chinese quarter, a portion of the city that no visitor to the Golden State should miss seeing, even if he has to make a journey of one hundred miles to do so.
The Chinese quarter of San Francisco is a city in itself, and one in which the contrasts between wealth and poverty is even more marked than it ever was in the Seven Dials of London.
The stores of the well-to-do Chinese merchants are filled with the richest of silks, the rarest of teas and the most artistic of bric-a-brac, the carvings in ivory and fancy lacquer work being especially noticeable, but close to them in the narrow streets are the abodes of vice and squalor, and squalor of the sort that reeks in the nostrils and leaves a bad taste for hours afterward in the mouths of the sight-seer. At the time of our visit both the opium dens and the gambling houses were running in full blast, and this in spite of the spasmodic efforts made by the police to close them. John Chinaman is a natural born gambler, and to obtain admission to one of his resorts is a more difficult matter than it would be for an ordinary man to obtain an audience with the Queen of England. He does his gambling behind walls of steel plate and behind doors that, banged shut as they are at the slightest sign of danger, would have to be battered down with sledges or blown open with dynamite before one could gain admission, and by that time the inmates would have all escaped and nothing would be left behind to show the nature of the business carried on.
Crime runs rampant in this section of the town, and when a Chinaman is murdered, in nine cases out of ten the slayer escapes punishment at the hands of the law, though he may have it meted out to him in some horrible form at the hands of the dead man's friends and relatives.
To go through the Chinese quarters by daylight is a sight well worth seeing, but to go through there with a guide after the night's dark shadows have fallen, is more than that. It is a revelation. These guides are licensed by the city, and are under the protection of the police.
They are as well known to the Chinamen as they are to the officers of the law, and the visitor is always safe in following wherever they may lead.
The tenement houses in the poorer sections of any great city are a disgrace to modern civilization, but a Chinese tenement house is as much worse than any of these as can be imagined. In one section of the Chinese quarter at San Francisco is a four-story building above ground, with a double basement below, one being under the other, and with an open court extending from the lower basement clear to the roof. In this building, which is jocularly styled by the guides, "The Palace Hotel of the Chinese quarter," and in which a hundred Americans would find difficulty in existing, over a thousand Chinamen live, sleep and eat, all of the cooking being done on a couple of giant ranges in the basement, which is divided up into shops, opium dens and sleeping quarters.
In these shops are some clever artisans in brass and ivory, and the locks that are turned out by hand by some of these brass-workers, and made to a great extent on the same principles as the celebrated locks made in this country by the Yale Company, are marvels of workmanship in all of their parts, the joints being as neatly filled in as though turned out by the latest improved machinery, the wonder of it all being that the principles upon which they were made have been known to the Chinese for thousands of years, the Yale locks being apparently nothing but a slight improvement on the original John Chinaman ideas.
In the opium dens one sees nothing but squalor and misery. A visit to one of them is a visit to them all, and one visit is generally enough to disgust the seeker after strange sensation, the acrid smell of the smoke and the noisome stench of the close rooms being almost unbearable.
The Joss Houses, in which are hideous idols before which tapers and incense are constantly burning, and the Chinese theaters, with their never-ending performances, are all strange sights in their way, and sights that are well worth the taking in. The Chinese quarter is a blot on the fair name of San Francisco, however, and leaving it one wonders how and why it has ever been allowed to grow into its present huge proportions. The memories of these after-dark trips still linger with me even now, like the shadow of some dark dream, and yet I am glad that I made them, if only for the purpose of seeing how the other half of the world manages to exist.
In company with Tom Daly, Bob Pettit, Harry Palmer and others of the party I enjoyed several horseback rides through the residence and suburban portions of the city, where I found much to wonder at and admire.
During our stay President Spalding, Captain Ward, Captain Hanlon, Mr. and Mrs. Ed Williamson, Messrs. McMillan and Palmer, and Mrs. Anson and myself were handsomely entertained at Oakland by Mr. Waller Wallace, of the California "Spirit of the Times," a paper now defunct, and the glimpses of the bay and city that we caught at that time made the day a most pleasant one, to say nothing of the hospitality that greeted us on every hand. Messrs. Spalding, Ward, McMillan, Palmer and myself were also handsomely entertained by the Press Club, and also by the Merchants' Club of San Francisco, an organization that numbered among its members at that time many of the leading business men of San Francisco and vicinity.
The day of our departure for Australia had been finally fixed for November 18th, and the evening before Spalding, as a recognition of the kindness with which we had been treated during our stay, gave a farewell banquet to the members of the California League and the San Francisco Press Club at the Baldwin Hotel, covers being laid for seventy-five guests, among them being several men of prominence in the social and business world of the Pacific Coast. The menu card for that occasion, which is circular in form and represents a base-ball cover, now lies before me, the idea originating in the fertile brain of Frank Lincoln. Under the heading of "score-card," on the inside, is the magic injunction, "Play Ball," with which the majority of us who sat at the table were so familiar, and among the courses, "Eastern oysters on the home run," "Green turtle a la Kangaroo," "Petit pate a la Spalding," "Stewed Terrapin, a la Ward," "Frisco Turkey a la Foul," together with other dishes, all of which had some allusion either to base-ball or to our contemplated Australian trip.
After we had played ball, the debris cleared away and the cigars lighted, there followed a succession of impromptu speech-making, the toasts and those who replied being as follows: "Early Californian Ball-players," Judge Hunt of the Superior Court; "The National League Champions, the New York Base-ball Club," ex-Senator James F. Grady, of New York; "The San Francisco Press," W. N. Hart, of the San Francisco Press Club; "The Good Ship Alameda," Capt. Henry G. Morse; "A G. Spalding and the Australian Trip," Samuel F. Short-ride; "The Chicago Nine," yours truly; "The All-Americans," Capt. John M. Ward; "The 'Base-ball' Cricketers," George Wright. In closing Spalding thanked the press and the base-ball people of the coast for the magnificent reception that we had received, and for all the kindness which had been showered upon us since our arrival, after which we bade farewell to those of our friends that we should not see again before our departure.
That night all was bustle and confusion about, the hotel. With an ocean journey of 7,000 miles before us there was much to be done, and it was again late before we retired to dream of the King of the Cannibal Islands and the Land of the Kangaroo.
Eleven years have rolled away since that trip to San Francisco was made and many of the friends that we then met with and that helped to entertain us so royally have passed over the Great Divide that separate the known from the unknown, but their memory still lingers with us and will as long as life shall last.
There was not a minute of the time that was spent on the coast that I did not enjoy myself. I found the Californians a warm-hearted, genial and impulsive people, in whose make-up and habits of life there still live the characteristics of those early pioneers who settled there in:
"The days of old, the days of gold, The days of '49."and to whom money came easily and went the same way.
"We sail the ocean blue, Our saucy ship's a beauty.We're sailors good and true, And attentive to our duty."
So sang the jolly mariners on the good ship Pinafore, and so might have sung the members of the Chicago and All-American base-ball teams as they sailed out through the Golden Gate and into the blue waters of the Pacific on the afternoon of November 18, 1888. Only at that time we were not in the least sure as to whether the Alameda was a beauty or not, pleasant as she looked to the eye, and we had a very reasonable doubt in our minds as to whether we were sailors "good and true." There was a long ocean voyage before us, and the few of us that were inclined to sing refrained from doing so lest it might be thought that, like the boy in the wood, we were making a great noise in order to keep our courage up. We were one day late in leaving San Francisco, it having been originally planned to leave here on Saturday, November 17th, and this delay of one day served to cut short our visit at Honolulu. The morning of our departure had dawned gray and sullen and rainy, but toward noon the clouds broke away and by two o'clock in the afternoon, the hour set for our departure, the day had become a fairly pleasant one.
At the wharf in San Francisco, a great crowd had assembled to wish us bon voyage, conspicuous among them being my paternal ancestor, who would have liked well enough to make the entire trip, and who would doubtless have done so could he have spared the necessary time from his business at Marshalltown. Here, too, we bade farewell to Jim Hart, Van Haltren and others of the party who had accompanied us on our trip across the country, and who were now either going to return to their homes or spend the winter in San Francisco. Hardly had we left the narrow entrance to the harbor, known as the Golden Gate, and entered the deep blue waters of the Pacific before a heavy fog came down upon the surface of the deep, shutting out from our gaze the land that we were fast leaving, and that we were not again destined to see for many months. The steamer was now rising and falling on the long swells of the Pacific Ocean, but so gently as to be scarcely perceptible, except to those who were predisposed to seasickness, and to whom the prospects of a long voyage were anything but pleasant. I am a fairly good sailor myself, and, though I have been seasick at times, this swell that we now encountered bothered me not in the least. Some ten miles from the harbor entrance, the steamer stopped to let the pilot off, and with his departure the last link that bound us to America was broken.
Our party on board the steamer numbered thirty-five people, and besides these there were some twenty-five other passengers, among them being Prof. Wm. Miller, the wrestler, whose name and fame are well known to athletes the world over, and who in company with his wife was bound for Australia. Sir Jas. Willoughby, an effeminate-looking Englishman of the dude variety, whose weakness for cigarettes and champagne soon became known to us, and who was doing a bit of a tour for his own pleasure; Major General Strange, of the English army, a tall, awkward-looking man, with eagle eyes, gray beard and a bronzed complexion, who had for years been quartered in India, and who had taken part in the Sepoy rebellion, some of the incidents of which he was never tired of relating; Frank Marion, his pretty wife and bright-eyed baby, the parents being a pair of light comedians, whose home was in the United States and who were going to Australia for the purpose of filling an engagement at Sidney, and to whose ability as musicians and skill in handling the guitar and banjo we were indebted for a great deal of pleasure before reaching our destination; Colonel J. M. House and a Mr. Turner, both from Chicago, where they did business at the stock yards, and who were hale and hearty fellows, a little beyond the meridian of life, and who were making the Australian trip for the purpose of business and pleasure; and last but not least Prof. Bartholomew, an aeronaut, who hailed from the wilds of Michigan and talked in a peculiar dialect of his own, and who joined our party for exhibition purposes at San Francisco, and proved to be a constant source of amusement to us all.
We could not have had a more delightful trip than the one from San Francisco to Honolulu had the weather been made expressly to our order, the sea being at all times so smooth that one might almost have made the entire trip in a racing shell, and that without shipping water enough 'to do any damage. It was blue above and blue below, the sky being without a cloud and the water without so much as even a gentle ripple, save at the bow of the boat where the water parted to let us through, and at the stern, where it was churned into masses of foam by the revolving screw of the steamer. But if the days were beautiful the nights were simply grand, and the ladies were to be found on deck until a late hour watching the reflections of the moon and the stars upon the water and enjoying the balmy salt breezes that came pure and fresh from the caves of old Ocean. The second afternoon out of San Francisco the passengers were suddenly startled by the clanging of a bell and the mad rush on deck of a lot of half-clad seamen, who seemed to come from all sorts of unexpected places, and who, springing to the top of the cabins and boiler rooms began quickly to unreel long lines of hose and attach them to the ship hydrants, while a score or more of sailors stood by the life buoys and the long lines of water buckets that lined the deck. That the ship was on fire was the thought that naturally came to the minds of many of us, and it is not to be wondered at that pale cheeks were here and there to be seen, for I can conceive of nothing in my mind that could be more horrible than a fire at sea. The alarm proved a false one, however, it being simply the daily fire practice of the ship's crew, in which we afterwards took considerable interest.
In spite of the fact that we were steaming along the beaten paths of navigation it was not until our fifth day that we encountered another ship, and then it was about eleven o'clock at night, and after the majority of the passengers had "sought the seclusion that a cabin grants," to again quote from Pinafore. Suddenly, as we plowed the waters, the scene was brilliantly illuminated by a powerful calcium light on top of the wheel-house, and by its glare we saw not far distant a steamer that we afterward ascertained to be the one bound from Honolulu to San Francisco. She had left San Francisco for the islands before the Presidential election had taken place, and as the Hawaiian Islands were not connected by cable with the United States, its passengers were ignorant of the result. It had been arranged, however, that a single rocket was to be sent up from the Alameda in case of Harrison's election, and two in case of, his defeat. As Harrison had been elected only a single rocket from our steamer cleft the blue, leaving behind it a trail of fiery sparks, and this was answered by a shower of rockets from the "Australia," that being the name of the sister ship that we had met, after which her lights grew dimmer and dimmer until they were finally lost to sight below the horizon.
With music, cards and games of chance of every kind and variety the days and nights passed pleasantly enough on board ship, and if there was anything that we had not bet upon before the ship arrived at Honolulu it was simply because it had been overlooked in some careless manner by the tourists. When it came to making up a poker party the old gentleman was greatly missed, as "Pa Anson" had never been found wanting when there was a card party on hand and a chance to wager his chips.
Before leaving San Francisco Mr. Spalding had met the Liverpool, England, agent of the Chicago, Burlington & Quincy Railroad, a Mr. S. A. Perry, and as a result of a long conversation it was agreed upon that the latter should visit such European cities as the tourists might desire to play ball in, and cable the result of his investigations to Australia. III case he found the indications were favorable to our doing a good business in Great Britain, where we were again desirous of giving exhibitions, it had been about decided by Mr. Spalding and myself that we should continue on around the world instead of returning directly home from Australia, as we had first intended. The possibility of a change in our plans we had, however, kept to ourselves, the newspaper correspondents only being taken into our confidence. The matter was allowed to leak out, however, during the voyage to Honolulu and the proposed trip was greeted with great enthusiasm by the ball players, who looked forward to it with the most pleasant anticipations, and who talked of but little else until the details were finally agreed upon at Melbourne and the proposed trip became a reality instead of a mere "castle in the air."
The details of this trip had already been made public in the United States the week after our departure from San Francisco, so that the people at home were aware of what might occur even before the ball players themselves had had a chance to realize that they were to become globetrotters.
Owing to the fact that we had left San Francisco a day late we were a day late in arriving at the capital of the Hawaiian Islands, where we had been scheduled to play a game on Saturday, November 24th, but where, owing to an unfortunate combination of circumstances, we were fated not to play at all in spite of the fact that every preparation for our doing so had been made and that King and court were more than anxious to see the American athletes in action. The nightfall of Saturday found us still plowing the blue waters of the Pacific 150 miles from the islands, and as we sat on deck in the moonlight we could picture in fancy the despair of our advance agent, Mr. Simpson, who had gone on ahead of us from San Francisco and who was still in ignorance of the cause of our detention.
It was just as the day began to break on the morning of Sunday, November 25th, that the cry of "Land ho!" from the lookout on the bridge echoed over the steamer's decks, and it was but a few minutes afterward when the members of our party had assembled next the rail to gaze at what was then but a faint blur upon the distant horizon. An hour later the green verdure of the islands and the rugged peaks of the mountains that loomed up against the rosy tint of the changing sky were plainly discernible, as were the white buildings of the city of Honolulu and the little fleet of shipping that was anchored in its bays. The sight was a beautiful one, and one upon which .we gazed with delight as the steamer sailed in past Diamond Head and slowed down in the still waters of the bay upon whose shores Honolulu is located.
Nearing the shore we were met by a ship's boat containing Mr. Geoffrey, the steamship company's resident agent; Harry Simpson, our advance guard; Mr. F. M. Whitney and Mr. Geo. N. Smith, the latter a cousin of Mr. Spalding, then residing in Honolulu, together with a party of natives bearing baskets that were filled with wreaths of flowers called "Leis," with which they proceeded to decorate each member of our party as a token of welcome and good will. As the steamer cables were made fast and we were drawn slowly to our berth at the dock we looked down from our perch on the rail at a crowd of fully 2,000 people that assembled there to bid us welcome, the King's band, "The Royal Hawaiian," with dark complexions and uniforms of white duck, occupying a conspicuous place and playing for our benefit such familiar tunes as "The Star Spangled Banner," "Yankee-.Doodle," and "The Girl I Left Behind Me," each and every one of them bringing out an answering cheer from the Alameda's passengers.
The morning was a bright and beautiful one and the mountains touched with the gold: of the sunrise, the plantations lying green and quiet along the shores, and the rapidly-growing crowd upon the dock, all combined to make the picture beautiful, and one that will never be forgotten.
The officers of the U. S. Cruiser "Alert," which lay not far distant, had given us a hearty cheer as we passed, while the cheers that greeted us from the dock were almost incessant and told us in an unmistakable manner that we were indeed welcome to the "Paradise of the Pacific."
Looking down from the steamer deck one saw people of almost every clime, the dark complexioned, straight-haired and intelligent-looking natives being in the majority, their white suits and dark faces adding greatly to the color of the scene. Pretty girls, too, were very much in evidence, and the eyes of many of our party strayed in their direction, especially those of the unmarried men, which variety composed the majority of our party.
Business in Honolulu the day before had been entirely suspended in expectation of our arrival, and great was the disappointment when the day passed without the steamer being sighted. It was then thought that we would not put in an appearance before Monday, and so, when the word went around on Sunday morning that the "Alameda" was coming in, the entire city was taken by surprise and everything was bustle and confusion.
King Kalakuau had set up a great portion of the night awaiting our coming, and so disappointed was he when we failed to put in an appearance that he accumulated an uncomfortable load, and this he was engaged in sleeping off when he was awakened by his courtiers and informed of our arrival.
Shortly after we had shaken hands with the members of the reception committee and the steamer had been made fast to the dock we entered the carriages that had been provided for us and were driven to the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, passing by the palace of King Kalakuau on the way. The streets were in themselves a novelty, being lined by stately palms, cocoanuts and bananas, laden with fruits and nuts, while there were flowers everywhere. The hotel, which stood in the center of beautifully laid out grounds, seemed like some palatial residence, and we were no sooner seated in the spacious dining-room, with its open windows extending from floor to ceiling, than the Royal Band began a concert in the music-stand beneath the windows.
This band was certainly a magnificent one, and one that has but few equals in the world, or had at that time, it being then under the leadership of Bandmaster Berger, a musician of the first class.
At breakfast that morning we were served for the first time with the native dish of "Poi," a pink-colored mush that, to be appreciated, must be eaten in the native manner, the people to the manner born plunging a forefinger into the dish, giving it a peculiar twist that causes it to cling, and then depositing it between the lips, where the "Poi" remains and the finger is again ready to seek the dish. In eating in such a fashion Frank Flint would have had away the best of it, and, as it was, I noticed both then and afterward that men like Williamson, Ward and others, who boasted of a base-ball finger, managed to get away with something more than their share of the delicacy.
On the balconies after breakfast we again listened to the sweet strains of the "Aloha Oe," the welcome song of the native Islanders, with which we had been greeted on our arrival at the docks.
As we stood on the balconies taking in the beautiful sights by which we were surrounded, we were informed that his majesty, "the King of the Cannibal Islands," as some members of the party irreverently referred to him, would be pleased to receive us at eleven o'clock at the palace. An invitation from a King is equivalent to a command, and so we at once made ready for the reception. When the appointed hour arrived Clarence Duval, clad in the full regalia of a drum major, took his place at the head of the Royal Band, which had formed in front of the hotel, and behind the music, headed by United States Minister Morrill and Mr. Spalding, were the members of the two teams in double file, the ladies following in carriages. In this order the procession marched to the palace, where the King and his cabinet were awaiting our arrival.
The grounds surrounding the palace were beautiful, indeed, and as we reached the massive portico at the entrance the band formed on one side as, with hats off, we filed up the steps, being met on the landing by members of the King's Cabinet, and by attendants, who directed us to the blue room, where we deposited our hats and canes. We were then requested to follow Minister Morrill, who took Mr. Spalding's arm and led the way across a great hall hung with pictures of the Island's dead-and-gone rulers, and into the throne room, the latter an imposing apartment large enough for several hundred couples to dance in, where the King, arrayed in citizen's clothes, stood before his throne with a Gentleman of Honor in court costume on either side. Minister Morrill introduced Mr. Spalding to the King, and he in turn introduced the other members of our party as they filed in by him, be bowing to each of the party as the name was mentioned. After the reception was over we wrote our names on the court register, and then, after being shown through the palace, were escorted back to the hotel by the band.
King Kalakuau was by no means a bad-looking fellow, being tall and somewhat portly, with the usual dark complexion, dark eyes and white teeth, which were plainly visible when he smiled, that distinguished all of the Kanaka race. Somehow, and for no apparent reason, there came to my mind as I looked at him the lines of that old song:
"Hokey, pokey, winky wum,How do you like your murphys done?Sometimes hot and sometimes cold,King of the Cannibal Islands,"
and I tried hard to fancy what might have happened had we landed on those same islands several centuries before.
Sunday amusements of all kinds being prohibited by an old Hawaiian law, a relic of the old missionary days, made an exhibition by the members of the two teams an impossibility, although the members of the Reception Committee, backed by many of the native Islanders, petitioned that we should do so, offering to bear any and all of the expenses incurred by us should any trouble be forthcoming. Couriers bearing petitions to the same effect were also sent around the city, and soon over a thousand names to these had been obtained. The risk was too great a one to be taken, however, as in case anything did happen we were almost certain to miss our boat and be detained in Honolulu for a longer period of time than we could afford to spend there. Our refusal to defy the law and play ball anyhow was a great disappointment both to the American contingent and to the natives, they having been looking forward to the game for weeks with most pleasant anticipations. They took their disappointment good-naturedly, however, and proceeded to make our stay among them as pleasant as possible. The most of our time was devoted to sight-seeing, some of the party going in one direction and some in the other.
In company with several others, Mrs. Anson and myself drove out to the Pali, viewing the magnificent scenery to be found there from the plateau, where, according to the tales of the natives, it rains every day in the year between certain hours. I was not there long enough to swear to the truth of the story, but as it rained the one day that we were on hand I am willing to assume that it rained the other three hundred and sixty-four, and let it go at that. We then drove through many of the city's most beautiful avenues, past the Royal mausoleum, where sleep the former Kings and Queens of Hawaii, from Kamehameha to the Princess Like Like, who was the last of those that had been interred there at the time of our visit. The parks and roadways of Honolulu are of rare beauty, and many of the principal residences and public buildings of a kind that would do credit to any country in the world. At the residence of the Hon. A. S. Claghorn, where we stopped for a few minutes, we were introduced to the Princess Kaiulani, a really beautiful Hawaiian girl, and one who was the possessor of rare accomplishments and of a most winning manner. We also paid a visit to the residence of one Hon. John H. Cummins, one of the Hawaiian sugar kings, where we were entertained in a most handsome manner. The time spent in driving around passed all too quickly, and, reaching the hotel, we began to prepare for the grand Luau, or native feast, that was to be given in our honor by King Kalakuau and Messrs. Samuel Parker, John Ena and George Beckley, and which proved to be one of the most novel and delightful features of our trip.
This feast was given in the Queen's grounds, in the center of which was placed her private residence. As we drove past the King's palace and through an avenue lined by towering palms and came unexpectedly upon the brilliantly illuminated-grounds, with their magnificent groves of banana, date, cocoanut, royal palms and other trees and plants of a tropical nature, the scene was a never to be forgotten one. The spacious enclosure was literally ablaze with light. Japanese lanterns of all colors, flaming torches of oil gleaming close together among the foliage.
As the uniformed officers at the gates made way for us we entered the grounds. Minister Morrill, Mr. Spalding, Capt. Morse of the "Alameda," and the ladies leading the way and walking toward a great tree near the center of the grounds, beneath which stood the King, the Hon. John Cummins, and the members of the King's Cabinet. At the birth of each member of the Royal family, according to custom, a tree was planted upon royal ground, and as this tree flourishes or decays it is supposed to foreshadow the future of the child for whom it was planted. King Kalakuau on this occasion stood beneath his own birth-tree, planted some, fifty years before, which at that time gave no indication of the fate that a few years later was to overtake him in a strange land. Greeting each of his guests cordially he bade all make ourselves thoroughly at home, a thing that we proceeded at once to do without further ceremony, wandering about the grounds and seeing whatever was to be seen.
An hour after our arrival the King, offering his arm to Mrs. Spalding, led the way toward the grove where the banquet was to be served, he being followed by H. R. H. Lilino Kalani, the King's sister, Prince Kawanonakoa, Mr. Spalding, Capt. Morse and the rest of the party. The tables were laid upon blocks elevated not more than six inches from the ground, in the shape of a letter U, and upon each side lay long strips of matting, upon which we sat cross-legged, like Turks, while shapely Kanaka girls in flowing robes of white stood over us moving fans of gorgeous colors. Poi was given to us in huge calabashes, while upon the big platters that were set before us and incased in the long, coarse-fibred leaves in which they had been baked, were portions of beef, pork, veal, fish, chickens and other viands usual to a banquet in our own land. Bands of native boys with stringed instruments played continuously' during the feast, making music of a peculiar character, that rose and fell as the busy hum of conversation and mingled with the joyous laughter of the men and maidens that were gathered about the table.
At last silence was requested, and as the noise died away the King's Attorney General, speaking for his majesty, expressed the pleasure that the Hawaiian ruler felt in entertaining such a representative body of Americans in his own islands. To this speech President Spalding responded in well-chosen words, thanking both the King and the residents of Honolulu for the hospitality shown us, after which, at the King's request, Lincoln entertained the guests with his satire on after-dinner speeches, his "A B C" orations, and his mixing of a soda cocktail, all of which provoked roars of laughter. After the banquet the King and the members of his court and family held a levee beneath his birth-tree, where, just before nine o'clock, we all filed by to bid him farewell, Clarence Duval having danced for him in the meantime to the patting of hands by Burns, Pfeffer, Ryan and Williamson, a performance that amused his majesty greatly, a tea-dollar gold piece being the reward that he gave to the little coon for his performance.
At the outskirts of the grounds we paused to give three cheers for King Kalakuau, three more for our Honolulu friends, and three more for the ladies, after which we were driven to the hotel and thence to-the steamer, which was to sail at ten o'clock. At the dock another great crowd had assembled to see us off, and as we swung out to sea there came to our ears the sweet strains of the "Aloha" song, from the members of the Royal Band, growing fainter and fainter as the distance between the steamer and the shore increased, until at last it died away altogether as we rounded the headlands, and it was heard no more.
The majority of our party, and among them Mrs. Anson and myself, remained upon the deck that evening chatting of the many beautiful things that we had seen and gazing in the direction of the fast-vanishing islands until they were at last lost to sight behind the mystic veil of the moonlight, and then we sought our stateroom to dream of the wonderful sights that were yet to come. There was now an ocean trip of 3,900 miles before us, before we should set foot on shore at New Zealand, and with never a stop between save a brief wait for the mail at the Samoan Islands. We were all pretty fair sailors by this time, having become used to the motion of the vessel, and so the long voyage had for us no terror, though we could not help but hope that the sea would remain as smooth as it had been up to that time, and that we should encounter no storms before reaching our destination.
How to keep the members of the two teams in anything like good condition for playing had been a problem with me for several days and one that I had spent some time in studying over during the first week of our voyage. The boys were all getting restless for lack of active exercise, and it was plain to me that something would have tot, be done or they would be in no condition when Australia was reached to do themselves or the country that, they represented justice.
"See here, George," I said to Wright the afternoon after we had left Honolulu, as we were sitting beside the steamer rail and looking across the blue expanse of waters, "this sort of a life will never do for American ballplayers who expect to exploit the beauties of the game in foreign lands. We shall be as stiff as old women and as fat as a lot of aldermen by the time we reach Australia unless we take exercise of some kind during the voyage. Can't we manage to get some cricket practice in some way?"
George thought we could do so, and a little later we held an interview with Capt. Morse, who was one of the best fellows that I ever sailed with. The result was on the following morning half a dozen sailors were set to work to roof over and wall in with canvas the rear end of the quarter deck promenade, upon the larboard side of the ship, which being done prevented the balls from going into the sea. This, when completed, gave us an enclosed cricket alley of about forty feet long, eight feet wide and ten feet high. The wickets were set in the extreme edge of this alley, the bowler facing the opening of the tent, twenty feet beyond it, so he had plenty of room to swing his arm and ample distance in which to break the ball in spite of the smooth decks and the rolling of the ship. A fifty-foot stretch of cocoa matting that Mr. Wright had thoughtfully provided gave a surface upon which to bowl almost as goad as genuine turf, and each day from that time on until the voyage was over several hours were put in by the boys at practice, the exercise proving to be just what was needed, the members of both teams, thanks to this, reaching Australia in good playing condition. After our cricket alley had been built the time did not hang as heavily on our hands as before, and between practice at the English national game, cards, music, conversation and reading, the days glided by both swiftly and pleasantly. The weather became very warm soon after we left Honolulu and many of the boys preferred sleeping, in the steamer chairs upon the deck rather than in the close staterooms that had been allotted to them. The decks at this time presented some queer sights, and the practical jokers in the party managed to extract a lot of fun at the expense of the sleepers. At 5:30 in the morning the slumberers were awakened by the sailors who started in to wash down the decks, when they would retire to their staterooms, doff their pajamas and return en natural to the vicinity to the smoker, where there were two perforated nozzles, and get their salt water baths. A sponge-off in fresh water followed and then a cup of black coffee and a soda cracker that was provided by the steward, and that stayed their stomachs until the welcome sound of the gong called us to breakfast.
We crossed the Equator some time between 1 and 2 o'clock on the morning of December 1st, and the occasion was celebrated by a musicale in the cabin under the supervision of Frank Lincoln, during the progress of which everybody who could help entertain in the least was pressed into service. A thrilling account of his own experiences during the Sepoy mutiny in India and his adventures during the celebrated siege of Lucknow, told by Gen. Strange, proved most interesting. Later on at the bow of the ship the whole party assembled and whiled the time away with song and story until Capt. Morse came himself to inform us that we had crossed the line and were now safe on the Southern Seas. I did not see the line nor did I even feel the bottom of the steamer scrape it as she went over, but it may be that owing to the darkness and the music I noticed neither of these things.
Early in the morning of December 2d it began blowing hard and by the time the noon hour had arrived the steamer was rolling about like a bass-wood log in a mountain torrent. There were some familiar faces missing from the tables at meal time that day and the stewards who waited upon those whose stomachs were still in eating order worked under difficulties, it being always a question of where they would bring up when they entered the cabin door. All that day:
It was rough, mighty rough,But the boys they stood by,And they ran on a bluffOn the grub on the sly,
while the sick ones that lay in their staterooms were hoping and praying they'd die.
That night there was no comfort to be had on deck, which was wet and slippery, so a mock trial was held in the cabin that afforded considerable amusement, General Strange acting as the presiding judge and Sir James Willoughby as the prisoner at the bar. Charges had been preferred to the effect that Sir James was not a peer of the realm as he had represented himself, and that he was carrying concealed weapons in violation of the ship's law. John Ward acted as counsel for the defendant, Col. House as prosecuting attorney, and Jimmy Forgarty as court crier. The witnesses were all sworn not to tell the truth, and anything but the truth, and as a result there were such whoppers told as would have made the original Annanias turn green with envy. Thanks to the eloquence of John Ward, however, Sir James was acquitted with all honor, but that trial was one of the most amusing incidents of the voyage.
The spell of heavy weather lasted but a few hours, after which time the wind died away, the waves calmed down and the sun shone as brilliantly as ever. On the night of December 30th and while the weather still left much to be desired, we sighted the Northernmost Island of the Samoan group, which are famous by reason of the destruction of a fleet of United States cruisers anchored in one of the harbors by a tornado, a native insurrection that threatened to bring about war between the United States and Germany, and as the home and burial place of Robert Louis Stevenson, the famous writer. Ed Crane and several others of the party and myself were sitting on deck and under the shelter of an awning watching for a glimpse of the land that we all knew was not far away, when a little after 11 o'clock we ran suddenly under the lee of a mountainous ridge of land that loomed up like a huge shadow in the uncertain light, and almost immediately found ourselves in smooth water.
Walking toward the bow of the boat we reached there just as a green signal light was flashed from the bridge. Before us lay the land, and as we watched, a light twinkled on the shore nearly five miles away in answer to our signal. Slowly we steamed toward it, the signal lights flashing their messages at short intervals through the darkness until we reached the harbor, where we lay about half a mile from the land until a sloop and a dory reached us with the mail and passengers for Auckland. Of both the land and the natives we had but a glimpse, one of the latter, a red-headed and stalwart specimen of his race, clambering to the steamer's deck in order to get a receipt for the mail and a glassful of gin, both of which were given him by the purser. The former he stowed away somewhere in his scanty clothing and the latter he gulped down as though it were water, after which he swung himself over the rail and disappeared from sight in the darkness. A few moments later we had left Samoan Islands behind us and were again tossing on the foam-topped waves. Samoa was left not far behind, however, when the weather turned colder and before many hours had passed we were all glad to change our clothing of a tropical weight for garments that were much heavier, and to seek comfortable places in the cabin at night rather than the open deck. Even the cricket practice had begun to get monotonous, and we were all looking forward with pleasure to the time when we might once more feel the solid land beneath our feet.
It was with feelings of delight therefore that we heard early on the morning of December 9th that we were within sight of our destination and that we should be on shore, barring accident, by the noon hour. Standing on deck long before it was time for breakfast, we feasted our eyes on the green hills that were in plain sight, and then fell to wondering what sort of a welcome awaited us in the New Zealand seaport that we were rapidly nearing.
While at the breakfast table that morning Capt. Morse was presented by Gen. Strange, on behalf of the passengers, with a purse of $200 as a testimonial to his skill, kindness and uniform courtesy. The big Captain was taken by surprise, but he acknowledged the gift in a brief and manly speech that brought out a round of applause from the listeners.
The harbor at Auckland is reached by means of a winding passage walled in by hills of volcanic origin, and the bay itself is second only to that of Sydney in beauty, the sides of the high hills that wall it in being dotted here and there by pretty residences of white stone, surrounded by broad porticos and handsomely arranged grounds. The town was as quiet as a country funeral and this we marveled at until we were informed that we had lost a day from our calendar and that instead of being Saturday as we had thought, it was Sunday. Leigh Lynch, who had been detained at Sydney, had sent his cousin, Will Lynch, to meet us and as the steamer was made fast to the dock he came on board with a bouquet of flowers for the different members of the party. Several newspaper men, who followed him shortly afterward, expressed their regret that we had not arrived the day before, as then we could have played to some eight or ten thousand people. We had expected to remain in Auckland but a few hours and were therefore agreeably surprised when Capt. Morse informed us that the Alameda would remain there to coal until 5 o'clock the next afternoon.
After a good dinner at the Imperial Hotel, Mrs. Anson and myself, accompanied by others of the party, drove about Auckland and its environs and though a drizzling rain was falling we found much to admire and to wonder at in the vicinity of that New Zealand seaport. Soon after sundown the skies cleared and that evening we enjoyed ourselves in strolling about the streets, being determined to make the most of the short time on shore that was allotted to us.
The next day dawned bright and beautiful, and, after paying a visit to the City Hall, where we received a warm welcome from Mayor Devore, we proceeded to get into our base-ball uniforms and prepare for the game that was to take place that afternoon.
During the noon hour the local band came marching down the principal street to the dock, and shortly afterward it started at the head of a procession of carriages containing the ball players and two tally-hos containing the passengers of the Alameda, who attended the game as our guests. The enclosure in which we played that day was as handsome as any that we saw in New Zealand, the grounds being as level as a billiard table and the turf as smooth and soft as velvet. The game was one that was remarkable on both sides for its heavy batting, the ball rolling away over the smooth surface of the outfield in a way that almost broke the hearts of the fielders and at the same time gave them more exercise than they had had for weeks. The 4,500 people that witnessed the contest waxed enthusiastic over the heavy batting of the visitors from the "States" and also over the splendid fielding. Baldwin was in the box for us in this game and pitched great ball, Crane doing the twirling for the All-Americas. The Chicago: proved to be the winners and the score, 22 to 13, shows the cannonading done on both sides. This was a good game for both teams to play when the fact is taken into consideration that the players still had their sea legs on and simply shows the good condition that the cricket practice on board the ship had kept them in.
When the "Alameda" left the dock at Auckland that afternoon, a crowd of at least 2,000 people had assembled to see us off. With Sydney 1,243 miles distant we still had quite a voyage before us. That night we skirted the coast until after the darkness had fallen and watched the green hills that seemed to rise abruptly from the water's edge. When the morning came and we once more sought the deck there was no land in sight and nothing to be seen save the watery waste of the ocean that stretched away to the horizon on every side. We had a rough voyage from Auckland and were glad enough when, on the afternoon of December 14th, we sighted the Australian coast. At five o'clock that evening, after a hearty dinner, we again assembled on the deck to watch the headlands that grew each moment more and more distinct, and' soon afterward a tugboat came to meet us, bringing the pilot and Manager Leigh Lynch, the latter notifying us as soon as he could gain the deck of the great reception that was awaiting us at Sydney.
The harbor at Syndey is a delight to the eye, and as we steamed through the Heads with the white-winged gulls circling around our masts and the dolphins playing about our bow, we drank in the beautiful sight with greedy eyes. Several steamers laden with gentlemen and ladies, and with bands of music playing our national airs, steamed down the harbor to meet us, and long ere we reached the quay we were surrounded by a fleet of small craft gaily decked in colors and carrying crowds of cheering and kerchief-waving people. Our national colors were to be seen everywhere, even the lighthouse on the point being draped from top to bottom in clouds of red, white and blue bunting. The Stars and Stripes greeted the eye on every hand, and, let me say right here, that there is no place where the flag of our country appears so handsome to the eyes of an American as when it greets him in some foreign harbor. The storm of cheers that greeted us from the throats of the enthusiastic Sydneyites we answered as best we could, and the strain upon our vocal organs was something terrific. Viewed from the steamer's deck the city of Sydney and the beautiful harbor, surrounded by the high hills and bold headlands, presented a most entrancing picture. Clear down to the water's edge extend beautifully-kept private grounds and public parks, and these, with grandly built residences of white stone, with tower-capped walls and turrets that stand among the trees upon the hillside, glistening in the sunshine, made the whole picture seem like a scene from fairyland. At the quay there was another crowd of cheering people, and it was with difficulty that we made our way to the four-horse tally-ho coaches and to the Oxford Hotel, where quarters had been arranged for us.
The entrance to the Oxford Hotel, as well as the dining-room, was handsomely decorated in red, white and blue, evergreens and colored lanterns, and, after receiving a brief greeting from U. S. Consul Griffin, we retired to our rooms to prepare for the formal welcome to Australia that was to be given to us that night at the Royal Theater.
We were to spend some little time in Australia, and that we had fallen among friends was evident at once from the reception that had been accorded us. It was a relief to know that our voyage was at least over for a time and to feel the solid land once more beneath our feet, though we parted with Capt. Morse with regret, he having endeared himself to us all by the uniform kindness and courtesy that he had shown our party on the long ocean trip.