The first thing that impresses the stranger in London is the immensity of the city, and the great crowds that continually throng the streets night and day, for London never sleeps.
The first day after our arrival I noted numerous changes that had taken place in various quarters since my visit of fifteen years before, during which time the city seemed to have grown and spread out in every direction. The hotel where we were quartered was in close proximity to the Strand, one of London's greatest and busiest thoroughfares, and here the crowds were at all times of the most enormous proportions, the absence of street car and the presence of hundreds of hansom cabs and big double-decked tramways running in every direction being especially noticeable. The weather at the time of our visit was cold, foggy and disagreeable, and as a result our sight-seeing experiences were somewhat curtailed and not as pleasant as they might have been.
The date of our first appearance on English soil was March 12th, and prior to the game on that occasion we were given a reception and luncheon in the Club House of the Surrey County Cricket Club at Kensington Oval, which is the personal property of the Prince of Wales, and one of the most popular of the many cricket grounds the are to be found within the vicinity of the world's greatest metropolis. The committee appointed to receive the players on this occasion embraced among others the Duke of Beaufort, Earl of Landsborough, Earl of Coventry, Earl of Sheffield, Earl of Chesborough, Lord Oxenbridge, Lord Littleton, Lord Hawke, Sir Reginald Hanson, Bart., Sir W. T. Webster, Attorney General, the Lord Mayor, American Consul General, American Charge d'Affaires, and Dr. W. D. Grace, the world-famous cricket player, with whom I had become well acquainted during the trip of 1874. It had rained that morning and when we left the hotel in drags for the grounds the streets of London were enveloped in a fog so thick that one could almost cut it with a knife, while the prospects of a ball game seemed to the most of us exceedingly dubious. Arriving at the Club House we were presented to the different members of the reception committee, who, in spite of the high-sounding titles that they bore, were a most affable lot of men, and to many of the most prominent club members, all of whom gave us a warm welcome and made us feel thoroughly at home. Lord Oxenbridge, a fine specimen of the English nobility, acted as chairman of the assemblage, and after luncheon proposed the toasts of "The Queen" and "The President of the United States," both of which were drank with enthusiasm. Lord Lewisham then proposed "The American Ball Teams," to which Mr. Spalding responded, this being followed by the health of the chairman, proposed by the Hon. Henry White, United States Charge d'Affaires, after which we made our way through the crowds that thronged the reception rooms and corridors to the dressing rooms, where we donned our uniforms and put ourselves in readiness to play ball. When we marched out on the grounds we were somewhat surprised at the size of the crowd that greeted us, some 8,000 people having assembled to witness the game, and this in spite of the fact that it was still foggy and the grounds soft, black and sticky. To play good ball under such circumstances was all but impossible, and yet I have taken part in lots of championship games at home that were worse played than this one.
Healy and Baldwin did the twirling, and both pitched good ball, while the fielding of both teams was nothing short of remarkable when the fact is taken into consideration that a ball fifty feet in the air could not be seen at all. Just at the end of the first half of the third inning we noticed something of a commotion in the vicinity of the Club House and when, in a few moments afterwards, the well-known face of the Prince of Wales appeared at the window, we assembled at the home plate and gave three hearty cheers for His Highness, this action on our parts bringing out a storm, of applause from the stand. At the close of the fifth inning we accompanied Manager Lynch to the Club House at the Prince's request, where we were introduced to the future King of England by President Spalding, he shaking hands with each of us in a most cordial manner, calling many of us by name and chatting with us in a most off-hand and friendly way. As we left he bowed to each of us pleasantly and then took a seat by the window to witness the balance of the game, which resulted at the end of nine innings in a score of 7 to 4 in Chicago's favor. The London papers the next morning devoted a great deal of space to the game, but the majority of the Englishmen who had witnessed it said that they thought cricket its superior, and among them the Prince of Wales, which was hardly to be wondered at, and which confirmed me in the opinion that I had formed on my first visit, viz., that base-ball would never become a popular English sport, an opinion that since then has proved to be correct.
Accompanied by the United States Charge d'Affaires the next morning we drove to the Parliament Buildings, where we were admitted and shown through by the Secretary to the Chairman of the House of Commons, an honor rarely accorded to visitors and one that we greatly appreciated.
From the great hall where Charles the First and Warren Hastings were tried and which had been badly wrecked by the explosion of a dynamite bomb two years before, we passed into the Crypt and Committee rooms, and thence through the magnificent corridors decorated with paintings, each of which cost thousands of pounds. The House of Lords was next visited, the Woolsack and Queen's Seat, and the seats of the various members being pointed out to us by the Secretary. From the House of Lords we passed into the House of Commons, where Sir William Harcourt was speaking upon "The Treatment of Political Prisoners in Ireland," and where several famous personages were pointed out to us, though much to our regret we missed seeing Mr. Gladstone, who was expected to enter every moment, but who did not appear up to the time of our leaving for Westminster Abbey, where we had just time to glance about us before driving to Lord's Cricket Grounds, where we were to play that afternoon, and where we were greeted by a crowd of 7,000 people. These grounds, which are particularly fine, we found that afternoon in excellent condition and as a result we played a great game and one that evidently pleased the spectators, the batting being heavy, the fielding sharp and quick and the base running fast and brilliant. Errors at the' last moment by Baldwin and myself gave the All-Americas this game, they winning by a single run, the score standing 7 to 6.
That evening, at the invitation of Henry Irving, now Sir Henry, and Miss Ellen Terry, we occupied boxes at the Lyceum Theater, being invited back of the scenes between the acts to enjoy a glass of wine and to receive the well wishes of our host and hostess, who still stand at the head of their profession.
The day following, which was March 14th, we played upon the Crystal Palace Grounds, which are located at Sydenham, one of the most popular residence districts of the great city and within plain sight of the magnificent Palace of Crystal, that is one of the many famous places of interest with which London abounds. Here another large and enthusiastic crowd of 6,000 people greeted us, and there was more cheering and excitement than we had yet heard since our arrival in England. It was another pretty and close game, in which the All-Americas carried off the honors by a score of 5 to 2, the batting, fielding and base running of both teams being again above the average.
At seven o'clock the next morning we left London for Bristol, the home of the famous cricketers, Dr. W. G. and Mr. E. M. Grace, whose exploits in the batting line have made them celebrated in the annals of the English National Game. Our journey to Bristol was a delightful one and when we arrived there at noon we were met by a committee composed of the Duke of Beaufort, Dr. Grace and the officials of the Gloucester County Cricket Club, and driven to the Grand Hotel, where introductions were in order. The Duke of Beaufort was certainly:
"A fine old English gentleman,"
and one who, in spite of his sixty years, was greatly interested in athletic sports. After a good dinner, over which His Grace presided and, after the usual toasts had been proposed and drank, we were driven to the Gloucester Cricket Grounds, which had but just been completed, at a cost of some twelve thousand pounds, and which were as pretty and well-equipped as any grounds in England. The day was a beautiful one and the grounds in splendid condition, but for all that the game lacked the snap and go that had characterized the games in London, the Chicagos winning by a score of 10 to 3. After the game the Chicago team took the field and Ryan and Crane pitched while the Grace brothers and other cricketers tried their hand at batting, but were unable to do anything with the swift delivery of the Americans, and it was not until they had slowed down that they managed to land on the ball, Dr. Grace making the only safe hit of the day.
That night found us back in London, where the next afternoon we played our farewell game in the great metropolis on the grounds of the Essex County Club at Layton, before a crowd that numbered 8,000 people, Crane and Earle and Baldwin and Daly being the batteries. This game was full of herd hitting and, though the score, 12 to 6 in favor of Chicago, would not have pleased an American crowd, it tickled the English people immensely, the London press of the next morning declaring it to be the best game that we had yet played in England. A throwing contest had been arranged to take place after the game between Crane and Conner, an Australian cricketer, but the latter backed out at the last moment and Crane merely gave an exhibition, throwing a cricket ball Ito yards and a base ball 120 yards and 5 inches. That evening we were banqueted by stockholders of the Niagara Panorama Company, and among the guests was the Duke of Beaufort, who "dropped in," as he put it, "to spend the evening with this fine lot of fellows from America."
When we left London the next morning it was in a special train provided by the London and Northwestern Railway Company, consisting of nine cars, two of which were dining saloons, two smoking and reception cars, and the balance sleepers, each of the latter being made to accommodate from six to eight persons comfortably. The exterior of the train was exceedingly handsome, the body-color being white enamel with trimmings of gold and seal brown and the Royal Arms in gold and scarlet on the carriage doors, while upon each side of the coaches was the inscription in brown letters, "The American Base-Ball Clubs." The interior of the train was equally as handsome, and even royalty itself could not been better provided. Some 500 people were on hand to see us off and we pulled out of London with the cheers of our friends ringing in our ears. The run to Birmingham occupied but three hours, and arriving there we were escorted to the Colonnade Hotel by a delegation from the Warwickshire County Cricket Club, where the usual reception was accorded us. Then, after going to the Queen's Hotel for luncheon, we were driven to the handsomely located and prettily equipped grounds of the club, where, in spite of the threatening weather, 3,000 people had assembled.
This game was one that would have delighted an American crowd, game being called at the end of the tenth inning on account of darkness with the score a tie, each team having four runs to its credit, Baldwin and Healy both pitching in fine style. That evening we were the guests of honor at the Prince of Wales Theater, returning after the play was over to our sleeping apartments on the train.
At nine o'clock the next morning we left for Sheffield, the great cutlery manufacturing town of England, our route leading through the beautiful hills of Yorkshire. Here we were the guests of the Yorkshire County Cricket Club, and after luncheon at the Royal Victoria were driven to the Bramhall Lane grounds, one of the oldest and most famous of England's many athletic parks, where we were greeted by a crowd that was even larger than' the one before which we had played at Birmingham. It was raining hard when we began play but we kept on for four innings, after which the rain came down so fast and the ground became so muddy that we were compelled to quit. We waited about for an hour in hopes that the rain might cease, but as it did not we finally went back to our quarters. At the invitation of Miss Kate Vaughan we spent the evening at the Royal Theater, where, as usual, we attracted fully as much attention as the play.
Snow was falling in great feathery flakes when we left Sheffield the next morning and, started for Bradford, and though we discovered an improvement in the weather when we reached our destination we found the grounds of the Bradford Foot-ball and Cricket Club in a condition that was utterly unfit for base-ball playing purposes. To make matters worse it began to rain while we were getting into our uniforms and a chilly wind swept across the enclosure. Four thousand people braved the inclement weather to see us play, however, and the members' stand presented a funny appearance crowded with ladies in waterproofs and mackintoshes, while the rows of black umbrellas that surrounded the field made it look like a forest of toadstools. It looked like sheer folly to attempt to play under such circumstances, but at the entreaties of the Cricket Club's Secretary, who said that a game of three innings would satisfy the crowd, we started in and we gave a good exhibition, too, but the state of our uniforms after it was over can be better imagined than described.
We arrived at Glasgow the next morning in time for breakfast, having been whirled across the borders of Scotland in the night, and when we awoke we found the train surrounded by a crowd of curious sightseers. After luncheon we started for the West of Scotland Cricket Club grounds, wearing overcoats over our uniforms, the air being decidedly chilly. It was fairly good playing weather after we once got warmed up, and the 3,000 spectators saw a good game, lasting seven innings, and also saw the All-Americas win by a score of 8 to 4. Mr. and Mrs. Osmond Tearle were that night playing "King Lear" at the Grand Theater, and entertained us very handsomely. On this trip thus far we had had but little opportunity for sight-seeing save the passing glimpses of scenery that we could obtain from the flying train and in the carriage rides to and from the grounds upon which we played.
The next morning found us in Manchester, we having left Glasgow at midnight, and at Manchester, the day being a pleasant one, we had some little opportunity of looking about. What we saw of the town impressed us most favorably, the streets being wide and clean, and the buildings being of a good character. The Old Trafford grounds on which we played that afternoon were beautifully situated and, in point of natural surroundings and equipments, held their own with the best in England. Through the gates 3,500 people passed, and they were treated to a rattling exhibition of "base-ball as she is played," the score being twice tied, and finally won by the All-Americas by a score of 7 to 6, Tener and Healy doing the twirling. That evening we were banqueted at the rooms of the Anglo-French Club by Mr. Raymond Eddy, who was then acting as the European representative of the Chicago house of John V, Farwell & Co., he being assisted in entertaining us by Major Hale, United States Consul at Manchester. This proved to be a most pleasant occasion, and the kindness shown us by both Mr. Eddy and Major Hale still remains a pleasant memory.
At seven o'clock the next morning we were at Liverpool, where I met many of the friends that I had made on my previous visit, and where we were to play our last game on English soil. We were driven to the Colice Athletic Grounds that afternoon in a coach with seats for twenty-eight persons, and arriving at the grounds we found a big crowd already inside and a perfect jam at the gates, the big carriage entrance finally giving way and letting in some five hundred or more people before the rush could be stopped by the police. As the paid admissions after the game showed an attendance of 6,500, it is fair to assume that there were at least 7,000 people on the grounds. Five innings of base-ball were played and the score was a tie, each team scoring but three, only one hit being made off Baldwin and four off Crane.
A game of "rounders" between a team from the Rounders' Association of Liverpool and an American eleven with Baldwin and Earl as the battery, and with Tener, Wood, Fogarty, Brown, Hanlon, Pfeffer, Manning, Sullivan and myself in the field was played. The bases in this game instead of being bags are iron stakes about three feet high, the ball the size of a tennis ball, and the batting is done with one hand and with a bat that resembles a butter-paddle in shape and size. A base-runner has to be retired by being struck with the ball, and not touched with it, and the batter must run the first time he strikes at the ball, whether he hits it or not. Of course the Rounders' Association team beat us, the score being 16 to 14, but when they came to play us two innings at our game afterwards the score stood at 18 to o in our favor, the crowd standing in a drenching rain to witness the fun.
At nine o'clock that night we took the train for Fleetwood, on the shores of the Irish Channel, and at eleven we were on board of the little steamer "Princess of Wales" and bound for Ireland. Unlike our experience in the English Channel, this trip proved to be most delightful and we arrived in Belfast in the pink of condition for anything that might turn up. It was Sunday morning and as we drove up to the Imperial Hotel on Royal Avenue the streets were as quiet as a country church yard. Towards evening, however, Royal Avenue began to take on a gala appearance, conspicuous among the promenaders being the Scotch Highland Troops, whose bright costumes lent color to the scene. About nine o'clock it began to rain again and it was still raining when we retired for the night. The next morning was full of sunshine and showers, but towards noon it cleared up and after luncheon we were off in drags for the North of Ireland Cricket Club Grounds, where we put up another great game and one where a crowd of 3,000 people, among which pretty Irish girls without number were to be seen, were the spectators. At the end of the eighth inning the score stood 8 to 7 in our favor, but in the ninth singles by Wood and Healy and a corking three-bagger to left field by Earle sent two men across the place and gave the victory to All-America by a score of 9 to 8. A banquet at the Club House that evening, over which the Mayor of Belfast presided, kept us out till a late hour, and at an early hour the next morning we were off for Dublin City,
"Where the boys are all so gay
And the girls are all so pretty,"
according to the words of an old song. The porter who woke us up that morning must have been a relative of Mr. Dooley, of the Archer road, if one might judge from the rich brogue with which he announced the hour of "'Arf pawst foive, wud he be gittin' oop, sur? It's 'arf pawst foive."
Between Belfast and Dublin we passed through a beautiful section of the country, catching now and then among the trees glimpses of old ivy-grown castles and whirling by farms in a high state of cultivation. At Dublin, where we arrived at eleven o'clock, we were met by United States Consul McCaskill and others and driven to Morrison's Hotel. This was a day off and many of the boys who had relatives in Ireland within reaching distance took advantage of the fact to pay them a visit. Mrs. Anson and I spent the day in driving about the city visiting Phoenix Park and other places of interest, and that evening we attended the "Gaiety Theater," where a laughable comedy called "Arabian Nights" was being played.
The next day we played our last game in a foreign land, the weather being all that could be desired for the purpose. Prior to the game, however, we called at the Mansion House and were received by the Lord Mayor of Dublin, who gave us a genuine Irish welcome.
Our drive to the Landsdown Road Grounds took us through many of the best parts of the city, which is beautiful, and can boast of as many handsome women as any place of its size in the world.
The game that we played that afternoon was one of the best of the entire trip, from an American base-ball critic's point of view, though the score was too small to suit a people educated up to the big scores that are generally reached in cricket matches. Baldwin and Crane were both on their mettle and the fielding being of the sharpest kind safe hits were few and far between. Up to the ninth inning Chicago led by two runs, but here Earle's three-bagger, Hanlon's base on balls, Burns' fumble of Brown's hit and Carroll's double settled our chances, the All-Americas winning by a score of 4 to 3.
This game made a total of twenty-eight that we had played since leaving San Francisco, of which the All-Americas had won fourteen and the Chicagos eleven, three being a tie, and had it not been for the accident in Paris that deprived us of Williamson's services, I am pretty certain that a majority of the games would have been placed to Chicago's credit.
In the evening we left for Cork over the Southern Railway in three handsomely-appointed coaches decorated with American flags and bearing the inscription "Reserved for the American Base-Ball Party." We arrived at two o'clock the next morning, being at once driven to the Victoria Hotel. The same day we visited Blarney Castle, driving out and back in the jaunting cars for which Ireland is famous, and, though I kissed the blarney stone, I found after my return home that I could not argue my beliefs into an umpire any better than before. That night we left the quaint city of Cork behind and, after a beautiful ride of eleven miles by train, found ourselves standing on the docks at Queenstown, where a tender was in waiting to convey us to the White Star steamer that awaited us in the offing.
Our voyage back to "God's country," by which term of endearment the American traveling abroad often refers to the United States, was by no means a pleasant one, as we encountered heavy weather from the start, the "Adriatic" running into a storm immediately after leaving Queenstown that lasted for two days and two nights, during which time we made but slow progress, and as a result there were a good many vacant seats at the table when mealtimes came. A storm at sea is always an inspiring sight, and it was a pleasure to those of us who were lucky enough to have our sealegs on to watch the big ship bury her nose in the mountainous waves, scattering the spray in great clouds and then rising again as buoyantly as the proverbial cork. The decks were not a pleasant point of vantage, however, even for the most enthusiastic admirer of nature, as a big wave would now and then break over the forward part of the vessel, drenching everything and everybody within reach and making the decks as slippery as a well-waxed ballroom.
I had quit smoking some time before starting on this trip and was therefore deprived of blowing a cloud with which to drive dull care away during the tedious days that followed. Like the rest of the party, too, once started I was impatient to reach home again, and for that reason the slow progress that we made the first few days was not greatly to my liking. The weather moderated at the end of forty-eight hours, and though the waves still wore their night-caps and were too playful to go to bed, they occasioned us but little annoyance and we bowled along over the Atlantic in merry fashion, killing time by spinning yarns, playing poker and taking a turn at the roulette wheel which Fred Carroll had purchased at Nice to remind him of his experience at Monte Carlo.
At a very early hour on Saturday morning, April 6, we were off Fire Island, and sunrise found us opposite quarantine.
Our base-ball friends in New York, who had been looking for us for three days, had been early apprised that the "Adriatic" had arrived off Sandy Hook, and, boarding the little steamer "Starin" and the tug "George Wood," they came down the bay, two hundred strong, to meet us. With the aid of "a leedle Sherman pand," steam whistles and lusty throats they made noise enough to bring us all on deck in a hurry. As the distance between the vessels grew shorter we could distinguish among others the faces of Marcus Meyer, W. W. Kelly, John W. Russel, Digby Bell, DeWolf Hopper, Col. W. T. Coleman and many others, not least among them being my old father, who had come on from Marshalltown to be among the first to welcome myself and my wife back to America, and who, as soon as the "Starin" was made fast, climbed on deck and gave us both a hug that would have done credit to the muscular energy of a grizzly bear, but who was no happier to see us than we were to see him and to learn that all was well with our dear ones. I'm not sure but the next thing that he did was to propose a game of poker to some of the boys, but if he did not it was simply because there was too much excitement going on. That evening we were the guests of Col. McCaull at Palmer's Theater, where De-Wolf Hopper, Digby Bell and other prominent comic opera stars were playing in "The May Queen." The boxes that we occupied that night were handsomely decorated with flags and bunting, while from the proscenium arch hung an emblem of all nations, a gilt eagle and shield, with crossed bats and a pair of catcher's gloves and a catcher's mask.
Every allusion to the trip and to the members of the teams brought out the applause, and by and by the crowd began to call for speeches from Ward and myself, but Ward wouldn't, and I couldn't, and so the comedians on the stage were left to do all of the entertaining.
The next day, Sunday, was spent quietly in visiting among our friends, and Monday we played the first game after our return on the Brooklyn grounds. The day was damp and cold and for that reason the crowd was comparatively a small one, there being only 4,000 people on hand to give us a welcome, but these made up in noise what they lacked in numbers and yelled themselves hoarse as we marched onto the grounds. Once again, after a hard-fought contest, we were beaten by a single run, All-America 7, Chicago 6 being the score.
At night we were given a banquet at Delmonico's by the New York admirers of the game, and it was a notable gathering of distinguished men that assembled there to do us honor, among them being A. G. Mills, ex-President of the National League, who acted as Chairman, Hon. Chauncey M. Depew, Hon. Daniel Dougherty, Henry E. Howland, W. H. McElroy, U. S. Consul; G. W. Griffin, who was representing the United States at Sydney when we were there; Mayor Chapin, of Brooklyn; Mayor Cleveland, of Jersey City; Erastus Wyman, Samuel L. Clemens ("Mark Twain"), and the Rev. Joseph Twitchell, of Hartford, Conn.; while scattered about the hall at various tables were seated representatives of different college classes, members of the New York Stock Exchange, the president and prominent members of the New York Athletic Club, and other crack athletic organizations of New York and vicinity, while in the gallery the ladies had been seated presumably for the purpose of seeing that we neither ate nor drank too much during the festivities.
Mr. Mills in his address reminded his hearers of the occasion that had brought them together and pronounced a glowing eulogy upon the game and its beauties and upon the players that had journeyed around the world to introduce it in foreign climes, and then called upon Mayor Cleveland of New Jersey, whose witty remarks excited constant laughter, and who wound up by welcoming us home in the name of the 20,000 residents of the little city across the river. Mayor Alfred Chapin of Brooklyn followed in a brief and laughter-provoking address, after which Chauncey M. Depew arose amid enthusiastic cheering and spoke as follows:
"Representing, as I do, probably more than any other human being, the whole of the American people who were deprived, by a convention that did not understand its duty, of putting me where I belong; and representing, as I do, by birth and opportunity, all the nationalities on the globe, I feel that I have been properly selected to give you the welcome of the world. I am just now arranging and preparing a Centennial oration which I hope may, and fear may not, meet all the possibilities of the 30th of April in presenting the majesty of that which created the government which we boast of and the land and country of which we are proud, but I feel that that oration is of no importance compared with the event of this evening. Washington never saw a base-ball game; Madison wrote the Constitution of the United States, and died without seeing one; Jefferson was the author of the Declaration of Independence, and yet his monument has no tribute of this kind upon it. Hamilton, the most marvelous and creative genius, made constitutions, built up systems and created institutions, and yet never witnessed a base-ball game. I feel as I stand here that all the men that have ever lived and achieved success in this world have died in vain. I am competent to pay that tribute, because I never played a game in my life, and I never saw it but once, and then did not understand it. A philosopher whom I always read with interest, because his abstractions sometimes approach the truth, wrote an article of some acumen several years ago, in which he said that you could mark the march of civilization and rise of liberty and its decadence by the interest which the nations took in pugilism. The nations of the earth which submit to the most grinding of despotisms have no pugilists. The nations of Europe which have never risen in their boasted establishments to a full comprehension of republicanism, have no pugilists. While Ireland and the Irish people, who can never be crushed, who have poetry, song and eloquence that belong to genius, have the most remarkable pugilists. England, which has a literature which is the only classic of to-day, which has an aristocracy and a form of government which is nearly democratic, has remarkable pugilists, and when you reach the seal of culture in America—Boston—you find the prince of pugilists. Now, that philosopher was right in the general principle, but wrong in the game. Civilization is marked, and has been in all ages, by an interest in the manly arts."
In conclusion Mr. Depew eulogized the returning tourists and-ended with a brilliant panegyric in favor of the National Game.
In responding to the toast, "The Influence of the Manly Sports," the Hon. Daniel Dougherty made a brilliant address in favor of outdoor games, after which President Spalding paid a compliment to the excellent conduct and ball-playing abilities of the two teams, and Captain Ward and myself made the briefest of remarks. Chairman Mills then introduced "Mark Twain," speaking of him as a native of the Sandwich Islands, which brought out the following address:
"Though not a native, as intimated by the chairman, I have visited the Sandwich Islands, that peaceful land, that beautiful land, that far-off home of profound repose and soft indolence, and dreamy solitude, where life is one long slumberous Sabbath, the climate one long, delicious summer day, and the good that die experience no change, for they but fall asleep in one heaven and wake up in another. And these boys have played base-ball there; baseball, which is the very symbol, the outward and visible expression of the drive and push and rush and struggle of the raging, tearing, booming nineteenth century. One cannot realize it, the place and the fact are so incongruous; it is like interrupting a funeral with a circus. Why, there's no legitimate point of contact, no possible kinship between base-ball" and the Sandwich Islands; base-ball is all fact, the Islands are all sentiment. In base-ball you've got to do everything just right, or you don't get there; in the Islands you've got to do everything all wrong, or you can't stay there. You do it wrong to get it right, for if you do it right you get it wrong; there isn't any way to get it right but to do it wrong, and the wronger you do it the righter it is.
"The natives illustrate this every day. They never mount a horse from the larboard side, they always mount him from the starboard; on the other hand, they never milk a cow on the starboard side, they always milk her on the larboard; it's why you see so many short people there, they've got their heads kicked off. When they meet on the road they don't turn to the right, they turn to the left. And so, from always doing everything wrong end first, it makes them left-handed and cross-eyed; they are all so. In those Islands, the cats haven't any tails and the snakes haven't any teeth; and, what is still more irregular, the man that loses a game gets the pot. As to dress, the women all wear a single garment, but the men don't. No, the men don't wear anything at all; they hate display; when they wear a smile they think they are overdressed. Speaking of birds, the only bird there that has ornamental feathers has only two, just only enough to squeeze through with, and they are under its wings instead of on top of its head, where, of course, they ought to be to do any good.
"The natives' language is soft and liquid and flexible, and in every way efficient and satisfactory till you get mad; then, there you are; there isn't anything in it to swear with. Good judges all say it is the best Sunday language there is; but then all the other six days of the week it just hangs idle on your hands; it isn't any good for business, and you can't work a telephone with it. Many a time the attention of the missionaries has been called to this defect, and they are always promising they are going to fix it; but no, they go fooling along and fooling along, and nothing is done. Speaking of education, everybody there is educated, from the highest to the lowest; in fact, it is the only country in the world where education is actually universal. And yet every now and then you run across instances of ignorance that are simply revolting, simply revolting to the human race. Think of it, there the ten takes the ace. But let us not dwell on such things. They make a person ashamed. Well, the missionaries are always going to fix that, but they put it off, and put it off, and put it off, and so that nation is going to keep on going down, and down, until some day you will see a pair of jacks beat a straight flush.
"Well, it is refreshment to the jaded, water to the thirsty, to look upon men who have so lately breathed the soft air of these Isles of the Blest, and had before their eyes the inextinguishable vision of their beauty. No alien land in all the world has any deep, strong charm for me but that one; no other land could so longingly and beseechingly tempt me, sleeping and waking, through half a life-time, as that one has done. Other things leave me, but that abides; other things change, but that remains the same. For me, its balmy airs are always blowing, its summer seas flashing in the sun, the pulsing of its surfbeat is in my ears. I can see its garlanded crags, its leaping cascades, its plumy palms drowsing by the shore, its remote summits floating like islands above the cloud rack. I can hear the spirits of its woodland solitudes, I can hear the splash of its brooks; in my nostrils still lives the breath of the flowers that perished twenty years ago. And these world wanderers that sit before me here have lately looked upon these things, and with eyes of the flesh, not the unsatisfying vision of the spirit. I envy them that."
"Mark Twain" may have been better than he was that night, but if so I should like some one to mention the time and place. To be sure he make a mistake in taking it for granted that we had played ball there, but then it was not our fault that we had not: It was all the fault of the horrid blue laws that prevented us from making an honest dollar.
Digby Bell and DeWolf Hopper gave recitations in response to the loud demand made for them, and it was not until long after midnight that an adjournment was finally made.
The next day we played our second game in Brooklyn before a crowd of 3,500, and gave a rather uninteresting exhibition, the Chicagos taking the lead at the start and holding it to the finish, the All-Americas supporting Crane in a very slipshod manner. That same evening we left for Baltimore, where 6,000 people gave us a hearty welcome when we appeared the next afternoon on the Association grounds. Here we put up a good game, the Chicagos winning by a score of 5 to 2.
We arrived in Philadelphia the next morning at eleven o'clock and found a committee composed of the officers of the Philadelphia clubs and representatives of the Philadelphia papers at the depot awaiting our arrival. Entering carriages we were driven down Chestnut Street to the South Side Ferry, where we took the boat for Gloucester and were given a planked-shad dinner at Thompson's. Returning we were driven directly to the grounds of the Athletic Club, where the Athletics and Bostons were playing an exhibition game. When our party filed into the grounds at the end of the third inning play was suspended and as the band played "Home Again" we were given a great ovation. At the conclusion of the game, which we witnessed from a section of the grand stand that had been reserved for us, we went to the Continental Hotel, and then, after we had donned evening dress, we were escorted to the Hotel Bellevue, where we had been tendered a banquet by the Philadelphia "Sporting Life." The banquet hall on this occasion was beautifully decorated, and as we entered the band played, "The Day I Played Base-ball." Frank C. Richter occupied the chairman's seat, others at the same table being A. G. Spalding, Col. A. K. McClure, of the "Philadelphia Times;" Col. M. R. Muckle, of the "Ledger;" John I. Rogers, Harry, Wright, A. G. Reach, Capt. John M. Ward, C. H. Byrne of the Brooklyn Club, President W. M. Smith of the City Council, Thomas Dando, President of the "Sporting Life" company, and myself. There were over three hundred guests in all and it was late before the speechmaking began. After brief welcoming addresses by Chairman Richter, Mr. Dando and President Smith, there were loud calls for Mr. Spalding, who gave a brief outline of our experiences in foreign lands. Captain Ward and myself responded in behalf of our respective teams and I took occasion to pay the boys all a compliment that I thought that they had deserved, because each and every member had behaved himself as a gentleman. Speeches by Colonel Rogers and C. H. Byrne followed, after which came a glowing tribute to the National Game from the lips of Col. McClure, followed by an interesting sketch of the game and its growth in popular favor by Henry Chadwick, who has the history of the game from its first inception down to the present time at his finger-ends. A. J. Reach, Harry Wright, Tim Murnane, Leigh Lynch and the irrepressible Fogarty all took their turn at amusing the party and again it was a late hour, or rather an early one, when we returned to our quarters. The next afternoon we were accorded a reception by Mayor Fitler in his office, who, in shaking hands with the tourists, gave us all the heartiest sort of a welcome. That afternoon we played on the grounds of the Philadelphias, to a crowd of 4,000 people, the weather being threatening. This proved to be a close and exciting contest, Chicago winning by a score of 6 to 4, Tener and Healy both being in fine shape.
The next day found us in Boston where we played to 4,000 people, and where the contest proved to be a one-sided affair, a brilliant double play by Duffy, Tener and myself and a quick double play by Manning and Wise being the redeeming features. It was something of a picnic for All-Americas, as they won by a score of 10 to 3. The following evening we started on our trip to Chicago, stopping at Washington en route.
Here we were notified of President Harrison's wish to receive the party and, visiting the White House, we were introduced to Benjamin Harrison, whose reception was about as warm as that of an icicle, and who succeeded in making us all feel exceedingly uncomfortable. That afternoon 3,000 people saw us wipe up the ground with the All-Americas, upon whom the President's reception had had a bad effect, as the score, 18 to 6, indicates.
The next day we played at Pittsburg to a crowd of the same size, the score being a tie, each team having made three runs at the end of the ninth inning, and the day following at Cleveland 4,500 saw us win by a score of 7 to 4. At Indianapolis the All-Americas took their revenge, however, beating us in the presence of 2,000 people by a score of 9 to 5.
Friday noon we left the Hoosier capital for Chicago in a special car over the Monon route, and at Hammond, where we had already gotten into dress suits, we were met by a crowd of Chicagoans, who told us that Chicago was prepared to give us the greatest reception that we had yet had, a fact that proved to be only too true. The crowd at the depot was a howling, yelling mob, and as we entered our carriages and the procession moved up Wabash Avenue and across Harmon Court to Michigan Avenue, amid the bursting of rockets, the glare of calcium lights and Roman candles, we felt that we were indeed at home again. It seemed as if every amateur base-ball club in the city had turned out on this occasion and as they passed us in review the gay uniforms and colored lights made the scene a very pretty one. At the Palmer House the crowd was fully as large as that which had greeted us at the depot, the reception committee embracing Judge H. M. Shepard, Judge H. N. Hibbard, Potter Palmer, John R. Walsh, Frederic Ullman, L. G. Fisher, D. K. Hill, C. L. Willoughby, C. E. Rollins, F. M. Lester, J. B. Kitchen, J. B. Knight, M. A. Fields, Dr. Hathaway, L. M. Hamburger, Louis Manasse and C. F. Gunther.
The banquet given in our honor that night was a most elegant affair, among those seated at the speaker's table being Mayor DeWitt C. Cregier, Hon. Carter H. Harrison, Rev. Dr. Thomas, James W. Scott, President of the Chicago Press Club, A. G. Spalding, George W. Driggs and many others. It was after ten o'clock when Mayor Cregier called the banqueters to order and made his speech of welcome, to which Mr. Spalding replied. The Rev. Dr. Thomas responded to the toast of "Base-ball as a National Amusement," and myself to "His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales," but the boys kept up such a constant cheering while I was on my feet that I am afraid that they did not appreciate all the good things that I said in regard to England's future ruler. "The National Value of Athletics" brought out a stirring address from Major Henry Turner, and John M. Ward expressed himself most happily on "The World As I Found It." Ex-Mayor Carter H. Harrison responded to the toast, "My Own Experience," and compared in humorous fashion his own trip around the world with the one that we had just completed. After other toasts responded to by various members of the party, we adjourned. The next afternoon we played the last game of the trip at the West Side Park and were beaten by a score of 22 to 9, the All-Americas falling upon Baldwin and batting him all over the grounds.
The next day the tourists went their several ways and so ended a tour such as had never before been planned and that cost me in round figures about $1,500, that being my share of the losses incurred in advertising the sporting goods business of the Spaldings, their business being greatly benefited by the tour, and how they repaid me afterwards—well—that's another story.
The playing strength of the League teams of 1889 was remarkably even; that is to say, on paper. Detroit had dropped out and Cleveland had taken its place in the ranks, four of the old Detroit players going to Boston, one to Philadelphia, three to Pittsburg, and the balance to Cleveland. The Boston Club had been the greatest gainer by the deal, however, and the majority of the "fans" looked for it to carry off the pennant. Once more the unexpected happened, however, and, though it took the games of the very last day of the season to settle the standing of the first six clubs, the pennant finally went to New York for the second time, they winning 83 games and losing 43, while Boston came next with the same number of games won and 45 lost, and Chicago stood third with 65 games won and 65 lost, Philadelphia, Pittsburg, Cleveland, Indianapolis and Washington following in the order named.
The Chicago team of that year consisted of Tener, Dwyer, Hutchinson and Gumbert, pitchers; Farrell, Darling, Sommers and Flint, catchers; Pfeffer, Burns, Bastian, Williamson and myself in the infield; and Van Haltren, Ryan and Duffy, outfielders. I was the manager and captain. It was not until late in the season that Williamson recovered sufficiently from the injury that he had received at Paris to join us, and his absence hurt our chances very materially, as the old "stone wall" infield was left in a crippled condition.
That fall the Brotherhood Revolt, that robbed the League of many of its best players, took place, and though the reasons for this have been variously stated, yet I am of the opinion that it could be all summed up by the one word, "greed," for that was certainly the corner stone of the entire structure. It has also been said that the plan of the Brotherhood was perfected by the ringleaders therein during the around-the-world trip, and it may be that this is true, but if such was the case the whole affair was kept remarkably quiet, for it was not until away late in the season that I was aware of the intended secession of the players, I then being approached by John M. Ward with a proposal to join them, a proposal that I declined with thanks, giving as my reason that the League had always treated me fairly and honestly up to that time, and that such being the case I could see no reason why I should leave them in an underhand manner. The truth of the matter is, that I felt bound in honor to stand by my friends, even if I sank with them, and at that time the skies did look remarkably dark and it was a question in my mind as to what would be the outcome. The fact that the majority of the League clubs had the season before made a great deal of money excited the cupidity of certain capitalists, and they, finding the players dissatisfied over some minor grievances, incited them to revolt, hoping to use them as catspaws with which to pull the financial chestnuts out of the fire.
The Brotherhood was a secret organization, and one that was originally formed by the promoters with the object of protecting the ball players in their rights, and not for the purpose of disrupting the old League and forming a new one in opposition, as it afterwards attempted to do. It first made itself felt in the fall of 1887, when it compelled the League to draw up a new form of contract; in which the rights of the players were better understood than under the form that had previously been used. When the new contract was adopted the full amount of each player's salary could not be written therein, because of the National Agreement, which contained a $2,000 salary limit clause, and as the American Association Clubs would not allow this to be stricken out the players were greatly displeased, they having to sign contracts at $2,000, and make outside contracts for all compensation over that amount that they received. Threats as to what the Brotherhood would do were freely made at that time, but nothing came of them. At the annual meeting in 1888, the Indianapolis, Pittsburg and Washington Clubs demanded of the League a scheme that would limit players' salaries, which had grown to enormous proportions, and the result was that a classification rule, which divided the players into five classes, as follows: Class A, to receive $2,500; Class B, $2,250; Class C, $2,000; Class D, $1,750, and class E, $1,500, it being agreed among the clubs, however, that this classification should not apply to players with whom they then had agreements, or to players with whom they should make agreements, or to whom they felt under moral obligations to do so, previous to December 15th, 1888, and it was also provided that the players then absent on the world's trip should be accorded two weeks after their return in which to arrange matters before they should be subject to classification.
We were abroad at that time, but the players at home remonstrated strongly against the classification, claiming that in a few years it would have a tendency to lower the salaries very materially, but the absence of John M. Ward, who was the Brotherhood leader, prevented any official action by the organization. When Mr. Ward reached, home again contracts had been signed and nothing could be done, though it is now known that he favored a strike at that time, but was out-voted by the cooled-headed members of the order. In the meantime the New Yorks had agreed to release the Brotherhood leader to Washington for the sum of $12,000, the largest sum ever offered for the release of a player, but Ward's flat-footed refusal to play in the National Capital team caused the deal to fall through.
In the meantime the discontented players had appointed a committee to present their grievances to the League, and President Young appointed a League committee to hear the players, of which committee A. G. Spalding was chairman, but when an immediate hearing was asked for by Mr. Ward, Mr. Spalding declined to meet the Brotherhood players until fall. This, according to the players' story, was the last straw that broke the camel's back, and from that time on they began, but with the greatest secrecy, to arrange their plans for secession.
Having ascertained what was going on in the meantime, I used what influence I possessed in trying to dissuade such of my players as was possible from taking what I then regarded as a foolish step, and though I managed to find some of them that would listen to me there were others who would not, Pfeffer, Tener and Williamson being among the number, though they made no move openly looking toward desertion until after the playing season was over.
On the fourth day of November, 1899, the Brotherhood met at the Fifth Avenue Hotel and threw off the mask, issuing the following address to the public:
"At last the Brotherhood of base-ball players feels at liberty to make known its intentions and defend itself against the aspersions and misrepresentations which for weeks it has been forced to suffer in silence. It is no longer a secret that the players of the League have determined to play next season under different management, but for reasons which will, we think, be understood, it was deemed advisable to make no announcement of this intention until the close of the present season. But now that the struggle for the various pennants is over, and the terms of our contracts expired, there is no longer reason for withholding it. In taking this step we feel that we owe it to the public and to ourselves to explain briefly some of the reasons by which we have been moved. There was a time when the League stood for integrity and fair dealing; to-day it stands for dollars and cents. Once it looked to the elevation of the game and an honest exhibition of the sport. To-day its eyes are upon the turnstile. Men have come into the business for no other motive than to exploit it for every dollar in sight. Measures originally intended for the good of the game have been turned into instruments for wrong. The reserve rule and the provisions of the national agreement gave the managers unlimited power, and they have not hesitated to use this in the most arbitrary and mercenary way.
"Players have been bought, sold and exchanged, as though they were sheep, instead of American citizens. Reservation became with them another name for property-rights in the player. By a combination among themselves, stronger than the strongest trusts, they were able to enforce the most arbitrary measures, and the player had either to submit or get out of the profession, in which he had spent years in attaining proficiency. Even the disbandment and retirement of a club did not free the players from the octopus clutch, for they were then peddled around to the highest bidder.
"That the players sometimes profited by the sale has nothing to do with the case, but only proves the injustice of the previous restraint. Two years ago we met the League and attempted to remedy some of these evils, but through what had been called League 'diplomacy' we completely failed. Unwilling longer to submit to such treatment, we made a strong effort last spring to reach an understanding with the League. To our application for a hearing they replied 'that the matter was not of sufficient importance to warrant a meeting,' and suggested that it be put off until fall. Our committee replied that the players felt that the League had broken faith with them; that while the results might be of little importance to the managers, they were of great importance to the players; that if the League would not concede what was fair we would adopt other measures to protect ourselves; that if postponed until fall we would be separated and at the mercy of the League, and that, as the only course left us required time and labor to develop, we must therefore insist upon an immediate conference. Then upon their final refusal to meet us, we began organizing for ourselves, and are in shape to go ahead next year under new management and new auspices. We believe it is possible to conduct our National game upon lines which will not infringe upon individual and natural rights. We ask to be judged solely by our work, and believing that the game can be played more fairly and its business conducted more intelligently under a plan which excludes everything arbitrary and un-American, we look forward with confidence to the support of the public and the future of the National game. (Signed) THE NATIONAL BROTHERHOOD OF BALL PLAYERS."
The Players' League, as finally organized, embraced the cities of Boston, Brooklyn, New York and Philadelphia, in the East, and Buffalo, Chicago, Cleveland and Pittsburg in the West. According to the articles under which this league was formed its government rested in a central board composed of its president, and two directors, one a player and one a capitalist from each club.
Any player who was dissatisfied with his location could apply to the board to be transferred without the payment of anything to the club losing his services. All contracts were to be made for three years and no player could be released until after the first year had expired, and not then if he had kept his agreements and was still able and willing to play good ball. Severe penalties were provided for drunkenness and crookedness, and all profits from ground privileges, such as refreshments, score-cards, cigars, etc., belonged to each individual club. It was also provided that all players were to have the same salaries that they had had in 1889, save such as had been cut down by the classification system, and they were to be paid the same salaries as in 1888, the same to be increased at the option of the club engaging them.
This on paper looked to be a great scheme, but what it lacked was business brains in its management, and as a result its career was a short and stormy one, it being war to the knife and the knife to the hilt between the two great rival organizations. After four courts had decided that the players had a right to leave the National League, each of the clubs located in the Players' League signed a compact to play with that organization for ten years. The National League then formed a schedule of playing dates that conflicted with the Players' League all through the season of 1890, this action throwing both clubs and public into confusion, the latter becoming so disgusted over the war of the rival factions as to stay away from the games altogether. At the end of the season the Players' League bought the Cincinnati Club, and as the Pittsburg Club was all but defunct, this left the National League with but six clubs.
At the close of the championship season a conference was held and plans agreed upon for ending the war, which had been financially disastrous to both parties. Committees were appointed by both Leagues and by the American Association having this end in view, but the Players' League, at a special meeting added three professional players to its committee, and the National League refused to join in the conference. Secret meetings between the capitalists of the Players' League and the National League were held, with the result that the rival clubs in New York, Pittsburg and Chicago were consolidated, this causing the disruption of the Brotherhood.
Looked at from a financial standpoint the contrast between the seasons of 1889 and 1890 was a great one. The year 1889 was the most successful that the League had ever known, and the money fairly poured in at the gate. The year 1890, on the contrary, was one of the most disastrous that the League had ever known, and on many occasions the clubs found themselves playing to almost empty benches.
The defection of Tener, Williamson, Ryan, Pfeffer and others left me with a comparatively green team on my hands, when the season of 1890 opened, but long before the season came to a close constant practice had made it one of the best teams in the League, as it proved by finishing in the second place. Few people, however, appreciate the amount of work that was necessary to attain that result. It was hard work and plenty of it, and though some of the players objected to the amount of practice forced upon them, and the strict discipline that was enforced, yet they had to put up with it, as that was the only manner in which the necessary playing strength could be developed. I myself worked just as hard as they did. If we took a three-mile run, I was at their head setting the pace for them. I have never asked the men under my control to do anything that I was not willing to do myself, because it was just as necessary for me to be in good condition as it was for them.
The Chicagos of 1890 were made up as follows: Hutchinson, Luby and Stein, pitchers; Nagle and Kittridge, catchers; Anson, first base; Glenalvin, second base; Burns, third base; Cooney, shortstop; Carroll, left field; Andrews, right field; and O'Brien, Earle and Foster substitutes.
It will thus be seen that I had but one of the "old reliables" left, that being Burns, who had refused to affiliate with the Brotherhood, and who was to receive his reward later on at the hands of the Chicago Club management. The rest of the team was composed of a lot of half-broken "colts," many of whom were newcomers in the League, and with a reputation yet to make, Hutchinson, Cooney and Wilmot being the pick of the bunch.
There was never a time during this season that we were worse than fifth, and on several, occasions we were right up in the front rank. When October arrived we were in the third place, but during the short season that followed we passed Philadelphia and took second position. Brooklyn carried off the pennant with a total of 86 games won and 43 lost, while Chicago had 83 games won and 53 lost, Philadelphia being third with 78 games won and 53 lost, while Cincinnati, Boston, New York, Cleveland and Pittsburg followed in that order.
This was an achievement to be proud of, and with the downfall of the Brotherhood and the consolidation of some of the leading clubs I naturally thought that the Chicago team would be strengthened very materially, but such was not the case. I did not even get my old players back, those of them that continued in the profession being scattered far and wide among the other League clubs, while others retired from the arena altogether. As a result it was a constant hustle on my part to secure new players, and I think I may easily say that the hardest years of my managerial experience were those that followed the revolt of the Brotherhood, continuing until my retirement from the Chicago Club at the close of 1897, at which time I was the owner of one hundred and thirty shares of the club's stock, which from the time of Mr. Hart's connection with it has been worthless so far as I am concerned, and simply because...