That night after the gentlemen of the party had donned their dress suits and the ladies their best bibs and tuckers, we repaired in a body to the Royal Theater, where a large and fashionable audience had assembled to bid us welcome. The theater, presided over at that time by Jimmy Williamson, an American, was handsomely decorated for the occasion with American flags, and as we took our places in the private boxes and in the section of the dress circle reserved for us, we were greeted with round after round of applause.
After the closing act of "Struck Oil," in which both Mr. Williamson and his wife appeared, our entire party passed through the box circle to the stage, upon, which we were arranged in a semi-circle facing the audience, which cheered us heartily as the curtain rose.
Just as the curtain went up a kid in the gallery, who must have been an American, who at some time in his career had seen me play, and to whom my face and form were familiar, cocked his head over the rail and shouted in tones that could be heard all over the theater, "'Rah for Baby Anson," a salutation that came so unexpectedly that it almost took my breath away and that caused both audience and players to laugh heartily. Mr. Daniel O'Connor, a member of the Australian Parliament, then introduced us to the audience in a brief address that was full of kind allusions to the country that we came from and eulogistic of our fame as ball players, he referring particularly to our pluck in coming so far without any guarantee against financial loss or artistic failure except our own confidence in the beauties of our National Game and in the sport-loving spirit of the Australian people. He tendered us a hearty welcome on behalf of the Colonies, and bespoke for us a generous patronage on behalf of the lovers of square sports, both in Sydney and elsewhere.
To this address Mr. Spalding responded for the American ball players in happy fashion, his remarks being greeted with generous applause on the part of the audience, after which we returned to our seats to witness an after-piece illustrating in farcical style the evils of Chinese immigration, and then, returning to the hotel, we were introduced to many of the leading business men of the city, remaining up until a late hour.
At eleven o'clock the next morning we again assembled in the office of the Oxford for the purpose of making a formal call upon Mayor Harris at the City Hall, and as we drove through the principal streets to our destination we were greeted all along the line by cheering and enthusiastic crowds. We were received in the Council Chamber of the City Hall by the Mayor, who was dressed in his official robe of purple and ermine, and who escorted us across the hall to his chamber, where an elaborate lunch awaited us, and the champagne corks were soon popping in lively fashion. The Mayor's speech of welcome was what we Americans call a "dandy," and I wish right now that I had a copy of it in order that I might reproduce it for the benefit of my readers. He stated among other things that, while he did not understand the game of baseball thoroughly himself, yet he thought well enough of it to predict that in time Australia would have a league of her own, the professionals of which would be able to hold their own with the professionals of the United States. He then tendered us the freedom of the city during our stay, and bade us make ourselves at home. This address was responded to in our behalf by U. S. Consul Griffin, after which his Honor again arose to remark that so long as America treated Australia with the kindness and consideration that they had in the past, the Australians would do their best to make it pleasant for their American cousins while they were on Australian soil.
"My reason for believing that our athletes will emulate your ball players," concluded the Mayor, "are manifold. In the first place, we have adopted your American ideas of trading, and we have managed to scrape up material enough to beat you! best oarsman," here his Honor turned toward Ned Hanlan, the ex-champion sculler, who had quietly entered the room and taken a seat near Mr. Spalding, the reference securing a cheer for the modest little athlete from the members of our party, "and," continued the Mayor, after the applause had subsided, "if all Americans will yield the palm with as good grace as Mr. Hanlan has done, we will entertain as high an opinion of them as we now do of Mr. Hanlan." After responses to the Mayor's address had been made by Messrs. Spalding and Lynch, and a dozen or more toasts proposed and drunk, we gave the Mayor of Sydney three cheers and a tiger and returned to our hotel, feeling certain that if all Australians were like the ones we had met thus far, a good time in Australia was assured to us.
We played our first game in Australia that afternoon upon the grounds of the Sydney Cricket Association, and it is but fair to say that we had nothing in the United States at that time, nor have we now, that will compare with them either for beauty or convenience. The playing field, with its covering of green turf, was as level as a floor and was surrounded by sloping lawns that were bright with flowering shrubs, while the club houses were models of their kind. The great annual foot-races at Botany that afternoon, and the horse-races elsewhere proved to be strong rival attractions, but in spite of them, and of the threatening weather, 5,500 people had assembled to see how the American National Game was played. Fortunately the members of bath teams were on their mettle, and the result was a game full of exciting features from start to finish, the pitching of Teller for the Chicagos and Healy for the All-Americas being of the gilt-edged order, while the fielding and base-running of both teams was up to the mark. At the end of the first inning the game was a tie, each team having scored four runs, and it so remained until the ninth inning, when the All-Americas sent a man across the plate and scored the winning run in what proved to be one of the hardest fought games of the entire trip. At the end of the sixth inning there was an interval of fifteen minutes, and during that time we were received at the Association Club House by Lord Carrington, who was at that time Governor of New South Wales, and who gave, us a warm welcome to the Colonies and wished us every success in introducing the game in Australia. After Mr. Spalding had thanked Lord Carrington for his good wishes on behalf of the players, and we had cheered everybody from Lord and Lady Carrington to Queen Victoria, we returned to finish the game, being heartily cheered by the crowds as we again took up our positions on the diamond. That exhibition gave the game quite an impetus in Australia, where it is now quite popular, thanks, I believe, to the visit of the American ball players.
The ride back from the grounds was an enjoyable one and after dinner there was a general exodus from the hotel on the part of the tourists, who were determined to see everything that there was to be seen and to let no opportunity in that line escape them. Just how Mrs. Anson and myself passed the evening I have forgotten, but that we passed it pleasantly I am certain, for how could it be otherwise in a place where everyone had combined apparently to make our visit a pleasant one, and where nothing was left undone that could add to our comfort and pleasure.
The following day, Sunday, was bright and beautiful, and in parties we drove over the city and its suburbs, going, among other places, to Coogee Bay, the fashionable watering resort of the Sydney people, and a beautiful place, too, it is. Sydney Bay was in itself a sight well worth seeing, when viewed from the surrounding hills, and the "Point," from which a magnificent view is to be obtained, impressed one with its rugged grandeur. Many of the residences of Sydney are extremely handsome and picturesque, and Mrs. Anson and I picked out more than one during the day's outing that we should like to have owned, that is, providing that we could have moved both the house and its surroundings back to Chicago.
The next morning the Chicago and All-America teams played their first game of cricket on the Sydney grounds, Messrs. Spalding, Wright, Earl and George Wade doing the greater part of the bowling, and this game resulted in a victory for the All-Americas by a score of 67 to 33. I had been bragging considerably during the trip in regard to my abilities as a cricketer, and was therefore greatly chagrined when I struck at the first ball that was bowled to me and went out on a little pop-up fly to Fogarty. This caused the boys to guy me unmercifully, but I consoled myself with the reflection that they had to guy somebody, and if it were not me then somebody else would have to be the sufferer.
That second afternoon we played our second game of ball in Sydney, in the presence of some 3,000 people, the batteries being Baldwin and myself for the Chicagos and Healy and Earl for the All-Americas. It was another pretty exhibition on the part of both teams, the All-Americas finally winning by a score of 7 to 5.
We played our first game with the Australian Cricketers the next day, and, though we played seventeen men against their eleven, we were ignominiously beaten, the Americans making 87 runs while the Australians ran their score up to 115, for only six wickets, the game, which had begun at eleven o'clock in the morning, being called at four p.m., to allow of another game of base-ball, which resulted at the end of five innings in another victory for the All-Americas by a score of 6 to 2, both teams being too tired to do themselves justice. The cricket game was the last of its kind that we played in Australia, and I am confident now that had we been as strong in bowling as in fielding we would have beaten the Australians at their own game, though our batting on this occasion was also decidedly on the weak side.
That night we attended a banquet tendered us by the citizens of Sydney, at the Town Hall. Two hundred plates were laid in the reception hall of the big building, the columns, dome, and windows of which were almost hidden by the English and American flags with which they were draped. The marble floor was covered with soft carpets and great banks of cut flowers and rare plants were arranged on every side, while at the end of the hall a raised platform had been built upon which a musical and literary entertainment was given after the banquet. That banquet at Sydney was certainly a memorable affair, and one that overshadowed in magnificence all that had gone before. The toasts, which included "The Queen," "The President," "The Governor," "Our Guests," "The Ladies," "The Press," and "The Chairman," were responded to by U. S. Consul Griffin, Daniel O'Connor, M. P., John M. Ward, Leigh Lynch, Newton McMillan, E. G. Allen of the Sydney Star, and others, after which followed a musicale in which some of the best amateur and professional talent in Sydney took part, the cornet solos of Mrs. Leigh Lynch being the bright particular feature of the entertainment. Mrs. Lynch, who was formerly a member of the Berger Family of Bell Ringers, is a most accomplished musician, and one that afterwards helped us to while away many an hour when time would otherwise have hung heavily on our hands.
The next afternoon we were to depart for Melbourne, and as we had nothing else to do we spent the greater part of the time in strolling about the streets and in bidding farewell to the many friends that we had made in Sydney. With button-hole badges of the Stars and Stripes and red, white and blue bands on the soft straw hats that we wore, it was an easy matter for the Australians to distinguish us wherever we went. At the Grosvenor Hotel we all assembled about an hour before departure, at the invitation of the Hon. Daniel O'Connor, to bid farewell to himself and to other prominent representatives of New South Wales. Here we were handsomely entertained, and when we left to take our seats in the special train that had been prepared, it was with cheers that fairly shook the rafters. My memories of Sydney are all pleasant ones, and it was with sincere feelings of regret that I left the many friends that I had made while there.
The coaches in which we journeyed to Melbourne were built in the English style, with compartments, and are not nearly so comfortable as the sleeping and drawing-room cars to be found in America, and had the old gentleman been with us I am afraid he would have kicked loud and long over the poker playing facilities that they afforded. The road itself is excellently built, however, and the country through which it runs rich, fertile and well wooded. It was a little after nightfall when we got supper at a small way station, after which we proceeded to rest as best be could. At 5:30 in the morning we were routed out on the borders of the Colony to have our baggage examined by the custom house authorities, which caused Mrs. Anson and myself but little annoyance, as we had left all our dynamite at home on the piano. At 6 o'clock we were again on the way and at eleven o'clock that morning we pulled into the station on Spencer street in Melbourne, where quite a crowd was waiting to greet us.
The Reception Committee, made up of American residents of Melbourne and members of the Victorian Cricket Association, met us with four-in-hand drags appropriately trimmed with the American colors, and as we entered them and drove up Collins street we felt that we were the observed of all observers. At the Town Hall we were received by Mayor Benjamin and the members of the City Council, and here a crowd of several thousand people had assembled to bid us welcome, which they did in the hearty fashion of the Australian people, who are as warm-hearted and as hospitable a class as any people that I ever met. In the audience hall up stairs, was a great pipe organ, and there we were treated to some beautiful music by the town organist, Mr. David Lee. The rendering of "Home, Sweet Home," carried us back again to the land that we had left, and as the strains of "God Save the Queen" rang through the hall we stood with uncovered heads until the music died away along the lofty corridors. In the Mayor's private room a generous lunch was awaiting us, and among those present to receive us were the Hon. Mr. Choppin, Consul General of the United States at the Melbourne Exposition; Mr. Smyth, Acting Consul; the Hon. J. B. Patterson, D. Gaunson, and Messrs. Smith and Pierce, together with a large delegation of the lovers of outdoor sports, including cricketers and base-ball players. The Mayor's speech of welcome was a plain and hearty one, and was followed by addresses of welcome by the Hon. Mr. Smith, of the Victoria Cricket Association; Acting United States Consul Smyth and Mr. S. P. Lord, the latter being introduced as "an old Colonist, who came from America in 1853," and a "base-bailer." Mr. Spalding followed in a brief speech, expressing our appreciation of the cordial welcome that had been accorded us and hoping that the Victorians would take as kindly to the game itself as they had to its exponents, after which Captain Ward and myself were called upon to say something, which we did to the best of our ability, though I somehow have never managed to acquire fame in the speech-making line, and would rather play ball at any time than make even a few remarks, that is, unless I could talk to an umpire.
Brief addresses by Mayor Wardell, Town Clerk Fitzgibbon and Mr. David Scott followed, after which we were driven to the Grand Hotel, where we found most comfortable quarters and a good dinner awaiting us.
This hotel was in close proximity to the exposition buildings, the Treasury building, the Parliament building and the Fitzroy Gardens, and was convenient to a great many of the objects and places of interest with which Melbourne abounds. One feature of the hotel, and one that greatly pleased the majority of our tourists, was the fact that a number of pretty colonial girls were employed in nearly every department, they waiting on the table and taking the place of the bellboys, in fact, doing everything except to fill the positions of porter and baggage-smasher.
That evening, at the invitation of Manager Musgrove, a partner of Mr. Williamson of the Royal Theater, in Sydney, we occupied a full section of the dress circle in the Princess Theater, where we witnessed a splendid production of "The Princess Ida," by an English company. At the end of the third act we were called out to drink the health of Mr. Musgrove, who informed us that the door of his theater were open to us at all times.
It was after midnight when we returned to the hotel, and so tired were we that we were glad to go at once to our rooms without stopping for the customary chat in the office or corridors, knowing that we had yet to make our first appearance as ball players before a Melbourne crowd, and must rest up if we wished to make even a creditable showing.
We played our first game at Melbourne on Saturday, December 22d, the second day after our arrival from Sydney, and in the presence of one of the largest crowds that ever assembled at the Melbourne Oval, the handsomest of their kind in Australia. The surroundings were of the most beautiful character and the day itself as perfect as any one could have desired for base-ball purposes. The lawn in front of the Club House was thronged with ladies in light attire, and the many-hued sunshades that they carried gave to it the appearance of an animated flower garden. The Club House balconies were crowded and even the roof had been pre-empted by the ladies and their escorts as a coign of vantage from which to view the game. The grand stand was filled to overflowing and the crowd that overflowed from it encircled the field, extending from the grand stand clear around to the Club House grounds. The scene was indeed an inspiring one, and it is not to be wondered that a good exhibition of the beauties of the game were given under such circumstances. The base-running was of the most daring character, the fielding sharp on the part of both teams, and the batting heavy. Baldwin and Crane were both at their best and pitched in superb style, while the exhibition of base-running that was given by some of the boys brought the onlookers fairly to their feet and they cheered themselves hoarse in their excitement.
Up to the seventh inning the score was a tie, but we managed to get a man across the plate in the seventh inning, as a result of Burns' three-bagger, and Baldwin' single, and another in the eighth, the result of a single by Sullivan and a long right-field hit for three bases by myself, and that I foolishly tried to make a home run on, being put out at the plate by Brown's magnificent throw from the field. The game finally resulted in a victory for Chicago by a score of 5 to 3, and leaving the field we congratulated ourselves on the fact that both at Sydney and Melbourne we had played first-class ball.
Supper parties and banquets were now becoming every-day occurrences with us, and that night we were handsomely entertained by an English actor of note, Mr. Charles Warner, who was at that time touring the colonies, the place selected for the entertainment being the Maison Dore, the swell restaurant of Melbourne. Here we spent a very pleasant evening until it was again time to retire.
The next morning, in the big reading room of the hotel, the boys were given some information by Mr. Spalding that I was already acquainted with, viz., that we should continue our trip around the world, returning home by the way of Egypt, the Mediterranean and Continental Europe. In spite of the fact that it was Sunday morning, this announcement was greeted with a burst of applause by the players, many of whom, even in their wildest dreamings, had never thought that such a trip would be possible for them.
After giving the players some good advice regarding their habits and physical health, Mr. Spalding stated that he wished to land every member of the party in New York sound and well and with only pleasant recollections of the tour, and that he hoped that all would, co-operate with him to that end. That morning the proposed trip was about the only subject of conversation among the members of the party, and pleasant indeed were the anticipations of one and all concerning it.
There was scarcely a spot of interest in or about Melbourne that we did not visit, the weather being delightful, while so constantly were we being entertained that there was scarcely an evening that our dress suits were given a chance to rest. It was the day before Christmas—not the night before—that we played our second game of base-ball in Melbourne, and the crowd, while not so large as that which witnessed the first game, was still of goodly proportions, some 6,000 people passing through the gates. Ryan pitched for the Chicagos and Healy and Crane for the All-Americas on this occasion, and all three of them were pounded in a lively fashion, there being a perfect fusillade of base hits on both sides, and the hard hitting seemed to the liking of the spectators, who cheered every drive to the outfield frantically. In spite of the hard hitting the game was closely contested, the All-Americas finally bearing off the honors by a score of 15 to 13. Following the game Prof. Bartholomew gave his first balloon ascension and parachute drop in Australia, a performance that was new to the Australians, and that they watched with almost breathless interest.
Christmas day in Melbourne the weather was terrifically hot and the lightest sort of summer attire even was uncomfortable. It seemed strange to us to think that at home on that same day there was probably snow on the ground and an icy wind blowing. Christmas in a hot country somehow does not seem like Christmas at all, an opinion that was shared by both Mrs. Anson and myself. That afternoon at three o'clock we departed for Adelaide, where we were scheduled to play three games, and this time we were delighted to find that "Mann boudoir cars" had been provided for us instead of English compartment coaches.
We missed the ladies on the trip, they having been left at Melbourne because of the heat, as had Ed Crane, with whom the hot weather did not seem to agree. At Ballarat, about four hours' distance from Melbourne, where we were scheduled to play a game on our return, we found 'a reception committee at the depot to meet us, together with a number of ladies. The country through which we journeyed that afternoon was fairly attractive, but thinly settled and literally overrun with that pest of the Australian farmer, the rabbits, which, like good race-horses, seemed to come in all shapes, color and size. The country swarmed with them and for the first time we began to realize what an immense damage they were capable of doing to the growing crops in that section.
It was about half-past ten o'clock the next morning when we reached Adelaide, and so hot that a Fourth of July day in St. Louis would have seemed like Arctic weather by comparison. At the depot we found United States Consul Murphy and a committee of citizens in waiting, and were at once driven to the City Hall, where Mayor Shaw made us welcome to the city. The usual spread and speeches followed, after which we were driven to the hotel. That afternoon we played our first game on the Adelaide Oval, which was the equal of either the Sydney or Melbourne grounds, so far as the actual playing grounds were concerned, though far inferior to them in buildings and natural surroundings. Owing to the intense heat and the fact that it was the opening day of the great race meeting at Melbourne there were only about 2,000 people present, and they witnessed a game remarkable for its heavy batting, both Teller and Healy being severely punished. The game went to the credit of the All-Americas by a score of 19 to 14.
That night our party occupied the Governor's box in the Royal Theater, where we attracted far more attention than did the play, the house being a crowded one.
The next morning we were the guests of Mayor Shaw, who took us for a drive in a big four-horse drag, and this proved a delightful experience to us all, the Sea Beach road, over which we drove, being cool and comfortable. Ten miles out we stopped at the wine yard of Thomas Hardy & Sons, who were at that time the most extensive grape and fruit raisers in Australia. Here we were shown over the immense wine yards and wine cellar, after which we drove to Henley Beach, returning in time for the game that afternoon.
At this second game the attendance was somewhat better than the first, and with Baldwin pitching for Chicago and Healy and Ward for All-America, we managed to turn the tables on our conquerors of the day before and win by a score of 12 to 9.
The next day was a holiday, and of these the Australians have many, it being the fifty-second anniversary of South Australia's existence as a colony, and as we were to leave in the afternoon we played our farewell game in the morning, play being called at ten o'clock. With Ryan in the box for Chicago and Simpson for All-America we won the easiest sort of a game by a score of II to 4, having Sir William Robinson, Governor of the Colony, for a spectator during the last four innings. After the game he came out on the grounds and shook hands with us all, complimenting us in a nice little speech on the skill that we had shown and expressing his own liking for the game that he had that morning seen for the first time.
That afternoon we left for Ballarat, the great gold-mining center of Australia, and at one time famous as the home of the bushrangers who for years terrorized that section of the country.
It was six o'clock in the morning when we arrived there, and we were just climbing into the drag that was awaiting us when some one missed Tom Daly. After a search he was found fast asleep in one of the compartments of the car, and being awakened was released by an obliging guard, looking a bit the worse for wear. In the early gray of the dawning we reached Craig's Hotel, where lunch had been arranged for us, after partaking which we were driven to the Botanical Gardens, the roadway winding along the shores of a beautiful lake. The gardens were well worth a visit, and after spending a brief half hour in admiring the flowers and statuary, we were driven back to the hotel for breakfast, stopping on the way for a plunge in the great Ballarat Swimming Aquarium. After breakfast we were driven to the Barton Gold Mines, situated on the edge of the town, going down to a depth of ii,000 feet after we had attired ourselves in overalls, slouch hats and other nondescript disguises. From the mine we were driven to the Town Hall, of West Ballarat, Ballarat being divided into two municipalities, West and East, where we met with the usual Australian welcome at the hands of Mayor Macdonald, thence to East Ballarat, where Mayor Ellsworth did the honors, the latter afterwards accompanying us on a visit to the Ballarat Orphan Asylum, where an invitation was given to the youngsters to the number of 200 to witness the game that afternoon, and that they were all on hand is a certainty.
The crowd that attended the game was 4,500 strong, and they saw the All-Americas win a rather easy game by a score of 11 to 7, the boys being too nearly tired out to play good ball. The ascent and fall of Professor Bartholomew was, however, the sensation of the day, the parachute failing to sustain his weight in that high altitude, and as a result he came down with great speed, and, striking a cornice of a building in the business district, was laid up for a month, it being a lucky thing for him that he was not killed outright. At seven o'clock that night we left for Melbourne, arriving there some four hours later in an all but used up condition.
The next day, Sunday, our whole party started for a drive of twenty-five miles over the mountains in a big four-horse drag, we being the guests for that day of Mr. J. K. Downer, a wealthy citizen of Melbourne. Through a rolling and well-settled country we bowled along until we reached the foot-hills, that were green and well-wooded, the clear notes of Mrs. Leigh Lynch's cornet every now and then waking the echoes. After three hours' ride we reached Fern Glen, the residence of a Mr. Bruce, a friend of the gentleman whose guests we were, and to whose broad veranda we were soon made welcome. The scenery here was beautiful, the house itself being situated in a rift of the mountains and surrounded by giant trees on every side, the grounds about being possessed of great natural beauty. After enjoying a splendid lunch provided for the occasion at Melbourne, and sent out ahead by wagon, we strolled through the beautiful glen, with its great ferns that arched the pathway, and the roots of which were watered by a little mountain stream.
After an extempore entertainment we again climbed to our seats in the drag and were driven back to Melbourne, stopping en route at the stock farm of J. H. Miller, who had gone into the business of breeding American trotters, and who again persisted in wining and dining us before he would let us go. "The Travelers' Rest," "The Golden Swan," "The Bull's Head Inn," and other resorts of a like kind were stopped at on our way back, and it was eleven o'clock at night when we were finally set down at the doors of the Grand Hotel, having spent one of the most enjoyable days since our arrival in Melbourne.
A great day's program of sport had been prepared for Monday, the last day of the year, in which cricket, baseball and foot-ball were all to have had an inning. The weather, however, interfered with the base-ball and cricket part of the program. The foot-ball game between the Carleton and St. Kilda foot-ball teams proved to be a most interesting contest, however, and one that we were glad to have the opportunity of witnessing, a heavy shower driving us back to the hotel before we could indulge in either base-ball or cricket.
Two games were scheduled for New Year's day, but only one of these was played and that in the morning, the attendance being 2,500, and the Chicagos winning by a score of 14 to 7, Tener pitching for us and Healy for the All-Americas. That same day there were 4,000 people at the races and probably as many more at the various cricket matches and athletic games going on in the city and vicinity, so it can readily be seen that Melbourne was a decidedly sporty place and that we had pretty hard competition to go up against, even for New Year's day. After luncheon at the cricket grounds we were treated to an exhibition of rope-skipping and boomerang throwing by a lot of aborigines that was little short of wonderful, and that must be seen to be appreciated. The natives could make these curved pieces of wood do all kinds of seemingly impossible things, while for us they would simply do nothing, but I expect that with a set of billiard balls several of our party could have made them look as much like monkeys as they did us with their boomerangs.
We were booked to sail from Port Melbourne for Ceylon on Monday, June 7th, and Saturday afternoon we played our farewell game in the Victoria capital before a crowd that tested the capacity of the grounds, the gate count showing that 11,000 people had paid their way into the enclosure. The program for the afternoon was a varied one, a two-inning game between the Australian Cricketers and the All-America team being the starter, and in this the American players easily demonstrated their superiority. Next came a game of foot-ball between the Port Melbourne and Carleton teams that was played under a modification of the old Rugby rules, and that proved close and exciting. A four-inning game between Chicago and All-America followed, Baldwin and Daly and Crane and Earle being the batteries, and it is safe to assert that a prettier exhibition of base-running and fielding was never witnessed in Australia than the one given on that occasion. With not a fielding error on either side my boys won by a score of 5 to 0, Pettit finally ending the game with a splendid running catch of Earle's long fly to right field, a performance that the spectators cheered again and again.
An exhibition of long distance throwing followed, Crane, Williamson and Pfeffer attempting to beat the Australian record of 126 yards 3 inches, for throwing a five and one-half ounce cricket ball, and this feat Crane accomplished, he sending the ball 128 yards 10 1/2 inches, a performance that the crowd appreciated.
At three o'clock on Monday afternoon, having said farewell to all of our friends in Melbourne, we took the train for Port Melbourne, seven miles distant, and were soon assigned to our staterooms on board of the "Salier," which was to begin her voyage the next morning.
The scene about the dock where the "Salier" lay that afternoon was an impressive one, the Turks and Hindoos, with their dark skins, red turbans and bright costumes, the circling seabirds with their peculiar cries, and the many craft of various kinds that moved hither and thither over the blue waters, all combining to make a picture that once seen can never be forgotten.
We left Australia with many genuine regrets. In the matter of hospitality that country easily stands at the head of the list of all of those that we visited, and if we could have shot a kangaroo or two before our departure and run up against a party of bushrangers, black-bearded and daring, even though they had managed to relieve us of a few of our valuables, we should have been made happy, but alas! the bushrangers, like the bad men of our own glorious West, had been wiped out by the march of civilization, and even the kangaroo had taken to the woods when he heard that we were coming, so we bore our disappointment as best we could, trusting for better luck in case we should ever be so fortunate as to again visit Her Majesty's Australian Colonies.
The "Salier," which was one of the German Lloyd line of steamers, sailed from Port Melbourne at daybreak on the morning of January 8th, 1889, and before many of us had put in our appearance on deck, although we were awakened long before by the cries of the sailors and the usual noise and bustle that precedes the departure of a steamer from her dock in all parts of the world. Long before we had left Port Melbourne out of sight, however, we had assembled at the rail to wave our last adieus to the many friends who had come down from Melbourne to see us off. The "Salier" was a delightful vessel and one that was most comfortably equipped, as are all of the vessels of this line, and the quarter deck, with its open-windowed smoking and card-rooms, soon became the chosen lounging place of the boys by day and the sleeping place of many of them by night, they preferring to don pajamas anti sleep in the easy steamer chairs rather than to seek the seclusion of the staterooms, which, as a rule, were hot and sultry. Captain Tallenhorst, who commanded the "Salier," was a fine fellow, and both he and his officers were inclined to do pleasant one, and a pleasant one indeed it proved.
In the steerage we carried a mixed lot of emigrants from all sections of the world, among them being Chinamen, Hindoos, Turks, Cingalese, Italians and Germans, and to walk through their quarters and listen to the strange languages that they spoke was to get a very good idea of the confusion that must have reigned when the building of the tower of Babel was in progress, and gave us at the same time a chance to study some of the manners and customs of a people that were strange to us.
The meals that were served on board the "Salier" were an improvement on those of the "Alameda," though we had found no fault with those given us on the latter, but there was one drawback to our enjoyment of them, however, and that was that the waiters spoke nothing but German, and consequently those of us who were unfamiliar with the language had some difficulty in making ourselves understood, our efforts to make known our wants by the sign language often resulting in ludicrous blunders. Fred Pfeffer was right at home, however, and as a result he managed to get the best there was going, the waiters evidently mistaking him for nothing less than a German Count, judging from the alacrity with which they flew about to execute his orders. We had been out but a few short hours before we began to miss Frank Lincoln, whose never-failing fund of humor had helped to while away many an hour and who had bid us farewell at Melbourne, having decided to remain for some little time in Australia. Among our fellow-passengers in the cabin were a couple of civil engineers from England, who had been making a tour of Australia, and very pleasant companions they proved to be; a Melbourne lady who was taking her two little daughters to Germany to be educated; and last but not least in his own estimation, if not in that of others, a Mr. Theophilus Green, a loud-mouthed, bald-headed, red-faced and portly gentleman of middle age, who, according to his own story, was possessed of unlimited funds, a desire to travel, and an inclination to pass himself off wherever he might happen to be as a representative American, God save the mark! Mr. Green journeyed with our party as far as Suez, and when he left us the long-drawn sigh of relief that went up from all hands was like unto the rushing sound that is caused by the passage of a hurricane over the surface of the waters.
Among the second cabin passengers were two stalwart Australians who were bound for Zanzibar, Africa, and who meant to penetrate into the interior of that wild country in search of big game. They were well equipped with firearms, of the most improved designs, and unlimited quantities of ammunition, and had the appearance of men who were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves in any country, no odds how wild and uncivilized it might be. They accompanied us as far as Aden, where they left us, taking with them our best wishes for their success and safe return.
The second night after leaving Port Melbourne we stopped at Port Adelaide, a little seaport seven miles distant from Adelaide, where we remained until two o'clock the next afternoon to take on a cargo of Australian wool. This was a hot town, at least to look at, the streets being dusty and devoid of shade trees of any kind, and the buildings of a low and inferior description. We had considerable sport while laying there fishing from the rail of the steamer and watching a big shark that came nosing around the stern of the boat in search of food. After he swam away for some distance some of the boys amused themselves by shooting at him with their revolvers, but if they succeeded in hitting him, of which I have my doubts, his sharkship gave no sign of being in trouble and pursued the even tenor of his way until he was lost to sight.
For days after we left Port Adelaide the weather was of the most disagreeable variety, the sky being overcast by clouds of a leaden hue while the huge waves were lashed into foam by the wind, and this, together with a heavy ground swell, gave to the steamer a most uncomfortable motion. This sort of affair was too much for my wife, and also for the other ladies in the party, with the exception of Mrs. Williamson, who proved to be a good sailor, and they remained in their staterooms. I had thought that I, too, was an immune, not having been sick since we left San Francisco, but the motion of the boat proved to be too much even for me, and I was forced to pay common tribute to Neptune that the King of the Seas is wont to exact from most land-lubbers. Tener and Fred Pfeffer were about the only ball players that escaped, and that Pfeffer did so I shall always insist was due to the fact that he could speak German and so got all the good things to eat that he wanted, while the rest of us, not being so fortunate, were obliged to put up with what we could get. Even Daly and Fogarty were obliged to keep qniet for a time, and this was something of a relief to the more sober members of the party. One afternoon after the last-named gentleman had begun to feel a little better he called to a passing waiter and asked for a cheese sandwich. The Dutchman, doubtless thinking that he was doing that irrepressible a favor, brought up a big plate of sauerkraut and steamed bolognas, and the effect of this on the weak stomachs of those who happened to be in that vicinity can be better imagined than described. If John Tener had not happened along and grabbed that waiter by the scruff of the neck and the slack of his pants, hustling him out of sight, there is no telling what might have happened, but I am inclined to think that murder might have been done.
After we had left the Australian Bight behind us and entered the Indian Ocean the seas calmed down and, the weather, which prior to that time had been cool and uncomfortable, became warm and pleasant. The ladies were again enabled to join us on deck and with music, cards, books and conversation the time passed pleasantly enough.
The steerage passengers were to us a never-ending source of amusement and interest, as we watched them working in their various ways and listened to their strange and incomprehensible gibberish. An old Hindoo one day raffled off a richly-embroidered silk pillow at a shilling a chance, and this, with my usual good luck I won and turned over to Mrs. Anson for safe keeping.
The Hindoos and Mohammedans on board would eat nothing that they did not cook themselves, even killed a sheep every few days, when it became necessary, and carrying their own supply of saucepans and other cooking utensils. One of the Hindoos, a merchant of Calcutta, who had been ill from the time that the steamer left Port Adelaide, died when our voyage was about half over. His body was sewn up in a piece of canvas with a bar of lead at the foot and laid away in his bunk. It was in vain that we asked when he was to be buried, as we could get no satisfactory answer to our queries, but the next night, when the starlight lay like a silver mantle on the face of the waters, the steamer stopped for a moment, a splash followed, and the body of the Hindoo sank down into the dark waters, and in a few days the episode had been forgotten. Such is life.
Clarence Duval, our colored mascot, had been appreciated on the "Alameda" at his true value, but on the "Salier" for a time the waiters seemed to regard him as an Indian Prince, even going so far as to quarrel as to whom should wait on him. A word from Mr. Spalding whispered in the ear of the captain worked a change in his standing, however, and he was set to work during the meal hours pulling the punka rope which kept the big fans in motion, an occupation that he seemed to regard as being beneath his dignity, though his protests fell on deaf ears.
One hot afternoon a mock trial was held in the smoking-room, with Fogarty as the presiding Judge, and then and there a decree was passed to the effect that, "in view of the excessively warm weather and through consideration for the comfort and peace of our entire party, Clarence Duval, our chocolate-colored mascot, must take a bath."
Now, if there was any one thing more than another that our mascot detested it was a bath, and the moment that the court's decree was pronounced he fled to the darkest depths of the steerage in hopes of escaping the ordeal, but in vain, for he was dragged out of his hiding place by Pettit, Baldwin and Daly, who, in spite of his cries for mercy, thrust him beneath a salt water shower and held him there until the tank was emptied. A madder little coon than he was when released it would be difficult to find, and arming himself with a base-ball bat he swore that he would kill his tormentors, and might have done so had not a close watch been kept over him until his temper had burned itself out and he had become amenable to reason.
The afternoon of January 22d, as we were lounging about the deck, John Ward, glancing up from the pages of a book that he was engaged in reading, happened to catch a glimpse of a sail ahead, and announcing the fact, .there was a rush made by all hands to the steamer's rail in order to get a good view of the welcome sight, for a strange sail at sea is always a welcome sight to the voyager. She was under a cloud of canvas and, as we drew near, with the aid of a glass, we made out her name, "San Scofield, Brunswick, Me." A moment later the Stars and Stripes were thrown to the breeze from her masthead and the cheers that went up from our decks could have been heard two miles away. If there were tears in the eyes of some of the members of our party as they saw the old flag gleaming in the sunlight and thought of God's country at that time so far away, the display of emotion did them no discredit.
We were all astonished one morning by a performance on the part of our mascot that was not down on the bills, and that might have resulted in his becoming food for the sharks with which the Indian Ocean abounds had he not played in the very best of luck.
The performance of Professor Bartholomew had fired the "coon" with a desire to emulate his example, and he had made a wager with one of the boys that, using an umbrella for a parachute, he could jump from the rigging some thirty feet above the deck and land safely on the awning. It was late one afternoon when half a dozen of the party were sitting beneath its shade that a dark shadow passed over them followed by a dull thud on the canvas that made it sag for a foot or more, and a wild scream of terror followed. Climbing up the rope ladder to where they could overlook the awning, the boys found the mascot crawling on his hands and knees toward the rigging and dragging behind him an umbrella in a badly damaged condition. When Fogarty asked him what he was doing, he replied, after a long interval of silence, "Just been a practicin'," after which he informed them that had he landed all right he should have attempted to win his bet the next morning. One experience of this kind was enough for him, however, and though the boys begged him to give them another exhibition of his skill in making the parachute leap, nothing could induce him to do so.
"Craps," a game introduced by the mascot, soon became more popular in the card-room than even poker, and the rattle of the bones and the cries of "Come, seben, come eleben, what's de mattah wid you dice," and other kindred remarks natural to the game coming from the lips of the chocolate-colored coon were to be heard at all hours.
The nights during this portion of our trip were especially fine, and we enjoyed them immensely sitting on deck until the "wee sma' hours" watching the starlight that turned the surface of the water into a great field of glistening diamonds, and the silvery wake of the ship, that stretched away out into the ocean like a track of moonbeams, growing dimmer and dimmer until it was lost in the darkness that lay beyond.
It was just as the sun peeped above the distant horizon on the morning of January 25th that we first caught a glimpse of the shores of Elephant Island, lying just off the coast of Ceylon, and at ten o'clock the shores of the island of Ceylon itself were full in sight. As we drew nearer the narrow-bodied proas, the boats of the natives, paddled by dark-skinned boatmen innocent of clothing came crowding about the steamer in great numbers, while the white-winged gulls hung above the vessel in clouds, darting so near to us at times that we could almost touch them with our hands. Past Point de Galle, with its crumbling walls of white cement, that made them appear as if they had but recently been whitewashed, we steamed until we came in sight of Colombo, and stopped at the entrance of the breakwater to await the arrival of the harbor master. That gentleman was apparently in no very great hurry and the hour and a half that we laid there awaiting his pleasure we spent in looking at the great stone breakwater and the city that lies upon the open coast, the harbor being an artificial and not a natural one. It was after four o'clock when the harbor master's boat, manned by half-clad Cingalese, came alongside, and a short time afterwards we steamed to a place inside the breakwater and dropped our anchors.
In an incredibly short space of time the steamer was surrounded by boats of all shapes, sizes and colors, manned by Malays, Cingalese and Hindoos, clad in all the colors of the rainbow, and all talking and yelling at the same time. Four little Cingalese boys, the oldest of which could not have been more than twelve of age, and who paddled a bamboo canoe around with barrel staves, attracted the most of our attention. They could swim and dive like otters, and shillings and sixpences cast into the water they brought up from the bottom, catching it in many instances before it had found a resting place on the sands. "Frow it," they would shout, and scarcely had the shining piece of silver struck the water before they were after it, disappearing from sight and then coming up with the coveted coin secure in their possession. The decks were soon swarming with hotel runners, moneychangers, and tradesmen of various sorts. As yet we were uncertain as to our destination, and depending upon word that was to have been left here by our advance agent, Will Lynch.
A drenching rain was falling when Messrs. Spalding and Leigh Lynch went ashore in search of news, and when Mr. Spalding came back an hour later he had heard nothing but had arranged for the accommodation of the party at the Grand Oriental Hotel, and we were soon on our way to the landing place in steam launches provided for the purpose, still uncertain, however, as to whether we were to go on in the "Salier" or not.