CHAPTER XXVIII. UNDER THE BLUE SKIES OF ITALY.

The night we left Ismalia and started for Port Said, the port of entrance at the northernmost end of the Suez Ca.n.a.l, was a glorious one, the full moon shining down upon the waters and turning to silver the sands of the vast desert that stretched away to the horizon on either side. This ca.n.a.l through which we had pa.s.sed had a mean depth of 27 feet and varies from 250 to 350 feet in width, its length from sea to sea being 87 miles. The banks on both sides were barren of verdure and there was but little to be seen save the Ca.n.a.l itself, which is an enduring monument to the brains of Ferdinand de Lesseps. Every now and then our little steamer pa.s.sed some leviathan of the deep bound for Suez, and the Red Sea, and the music of our mandolins and guitars and of Mrs. Lynch's cornet would bring the pa.s.sengers on board of, them to the steamer's rail as we sped by them in the moonlight. Shortly after ten o'clock the lights of Port Said came in sight and at half-past ten we were climbing up the sides of the "Stettin," where we found a fine lot of officers and a good dinner awaiting our arrival.

An hour later we were on our way across the Mediterranean. The voyage was the roughest we had yet had, and as the majority of the party were so seasick as to be confined to their staterooms, there was very little pleasure to be found, the ship rolling about so that her screw was more than half the time out of the water. The mountains of Crete and Candia, with their snowy caps, were the only signs of land to be seen until we arrived in sight of Brindisi, which we reached twelve hours later than we should have done had it not been for the rough weather that we encountered. Here we received the first mail that we had had since we left home, and as there were letters from our daughters in the bag we were more than happy.

At Brindisi we were obliged to remain over night, having missed the day train for Naples, but the storm that that evening swept the coast confined us to the hotel, where the big wood fires that blazed in the grates, both in the office and in our sleeping apartments, made things most comfortable. At nine o'clock the next morning we left for Naples, where we arrived that evening, our journey taking us through the most beautiful and picturesque portion of Southern Italy, a country rich in vineyards, valleys, wooded mountains and beggars, being excelled in the latter respect only by the lands of the Orient.

The most of our baggage had already gone on the steamer to Southampton, and so when we got to the sh.o.r.es of the Bay of Naples we had but little for the Custom House Inspectors to inspect. I had my bat bag with me, however, and as I entered the station a funny-looking little old man in gold lace insisted that the bag was above the regulation weight and that I should register it and pay the extra fare. I kicked harder than I had ever kicked to any umpire at home in my life, but to no avail, for I was compelled to settle. As we came within sight of the Bay of Naples we were all on the lookout for Mount Vesuvius, which Fogarty was the first to sight, and to which he called our attention. Green and gray it loomed up in the distance, its summit surrounded by a crimson halo and its crater every few seconds belching out flames and lava. Arriving at the station we were met by Messrs. Spalding and Lynch, who had come on from Brindisi one train in advance of us, and here Martin Sullivan, who had playfully filched the horn of a guard while en route, was taken into custody by half a score of gendarmes. It took the services of three interpreters and some fifteen minutes of time to straighten this affair out, after which we proceeded to the Hotel Vesuve, where we were to put up during our stay in Naples. That night we were too tired for sightseeing and contented ourselves with gazing from the windows at the beautiful Bay of Naples, which lay flashing beneath us in the moonlight.

As no arrangements had been made to play a game until the fourth day after our arrival we had ample time for sightseeing, and this we turned to the best account. The view from the balconies of the hotel was in itself a grand one, and one of which we never tired. Vesuvius, with its smoke-crowned summit, was in plain sight, while the view of the bay and the beautiful islands of Capri and Ischia, that lay directly in front of the hotel, presented as pretty and enticing a picture as could be found anywhere. That afternoon we drove all about old Naples, visiting many of the quaint and handsome old cathedrals and palaces, and that night we went to hear "Lucretia Borgia," at the San Carlos, which is one of the most magnificent theaters to be found in all Europe. The next day we spent among the ruins of Pompeii and, though a third of the original city at the time of our visit still lay buried beneath the ashes and lava, we were enabled to obtain a pretty fair idea of what the whole city was like, and of the manners and customs of the unfortunate people who had been overwhelmed by the eruption. Many of the most interesting relics found are now in the National Museum at Naples, among them being the casts of bodies that were taken from the ashes. The museums and cathedrals at Naples are rich in relics and you might spend days in looking at them and still not see half of what is to be shown.

My wife and I were both anxious to make the ascent of Vesuvius, but the dangers incurred by some of the other members of the party who had attempted the feat deterred us from making the attempt.

Our first game of ball in Naples and the first of our trip on European soil was played in the Campo de Mart, or "Field of Mars," February 19th.

We left the hotel in carriages and drove out by the way of the Via Roma to the grounds. The day before United States Consul Camphausen, who treated us all through our stay with the greatest kindness and courtesy, had issued invitations to the various members of the different diplomatic corps in Naples, and also to many of the princ.i.p.al citizens, so that there was a crowd of about 3,000 people on the grounds, and among them quite a sprinkling of foreign diplomats and fashionable people. The game began with Baldwin and Daly and Healy and Earl in the points, but it had hardly gotten under way before the crowd swarmed onto the playing grounds in such a way as to make fielding well-nigh impracticable, and batting dangerous. The police seemed powerless to restrain the people and the bad Italian of A. G. Spalding had, seemingly, no effect, in spite of the coaching given him by Minister Camphausen. Then we tried to clear the field ourselves, and, though we would succeed for a time, it would soon be as bad as ever, the fact that an Italian was laid out senseless by a ball from Carroll's bat not seeming to deter them in the least. For three innings neither side scored, and in the fourth each got a man across the plate, but in the fifth the All-Americas increased their score by seven runs, and the crowd, evidently thinking that the game was over, swarmed across the field like an army of Kansas gra.s.shoppers, and Ward, ordering his men into their positions, claimed the game of Tener, who was umpiring, which the latter gave him by a technical score of 9 to 0, the score books showing 8 to 2. That night was our last in Naples, and by invitation of the American Minister we occupied boxes at the San Carlos Theater, which was packed from pit to dome by the wealth and fashion of Naples.

We were to have taken our departure for Rome at 8:30 the next morning, but owing to a mistake that was made by the commissionaire, to whom the getting of the tickets had been left, we were compelled to wait until the afternoon at three, Mr. Spalding and his mother going on without us.

Leaving Clarence Duval to watch over the baggage piled up in a corner of the waiting-room we spent the time in driving about the city, and in paying a farewell visit to the Naples Museum, in which is contained some of the finest marbles, bronzes and paintings to be found on the continent, the Farnese Bull and the Farnese Hercules in marble being famous the world over. Three o'clock found us again at the depot and this time the tickets being on hand we boarded the train and were soon whirling along through the rural districts of Italy on our way to:

"Rome that sat upon her seven hills And ruled the world."

This trip was uneventful, and even the irrepressibles of the party managed to keep out of mischief, the experience of Martin Sullivan having taught them that the Italians did not know how to take a joke.

At nine o'clock we reached the Eternal City, our party dividing at the station, the Chicagos going to the Hotel de Alamagne and the All-Americas to the Hotel de Capital, this action being necessary because of the fact that Rome was at that time crammed with tourists and accommodations for such a large party as ours were hard to find.

When Messrs. Spalding and Lynch called upon Judge Stallo of Cincinnati the next morning, he then being the American Minister at Rome, they were given the cold shoulder for the first time during the trip, that gentleman declaring that he had never taken the slightest interest in athletics, and that he did not propose to lend the use of his name for mercenary purposes. There being no inclosed grounds in Rome this action of Jude Stallo's was in the nature of a gratuitous insult, and was looked upon as such by the members of our party. Mr. Charles Dougherty, the Secretary of the American Legation at Rome, proved, however, to be an American of a different kind, and one that devoted to us much of his time and attention.

Who that has ever been to Rome can ever forget it? I cannot, and I look upon the time that I put in there sightseeing as most pleasantly and profitably spent. The stupendous church of St. Peter's, with its chapels and galleries, being in itself an imposing object lesson. Its glories have already been inadequately described by some of the most famous of literary men, and where they have failed it would be folly for a mere ball player to make the attempt. In St. Peter's we spent almost an entire day, and leaving it we felt that there was still more to be seen.

The second day we visited the palace of the Caesars, the Catacombs, the ruins of the Forum, and the Coliseum, within whose tottering walls the mighty athletes of an olden day battled for mastery. We drove far out on the Appian Way, that had at one time echoed the tread of Rome's victorious legions, until we stopped at the tomb of St. Cecelia. The glories of ancient Rome have departed but the ruins of that glory still remain to challenge the wonder and admiration of the traveler. Rome is not composed entirely of ma.s.sive ruins in these latter days, as some people seem to imagine. On the contrary, it is a city of wealth and magnificence, and if "you do as the Romans do" you are certain to enjoy yourself, for the Romans do about the same things as other people.

The Corso, which is the fashionable drive and promenade of the residents, had a great attraction for us all, and between three and five o'clock in the afternoons the scene presented was a brilliant one, it being at that time thronged with handsome equipages and handsomer women, while the shop windows are pictures in themselves. The street itself in a narrow one, being barely wide enough for two vehicles to pa.s.s each other, and yet over its pavements there is a constantly flowing tide of people such as Fifth Avenue in New York, State Street in Chicago, Rotten Row in London, or even the Champs Ely-see in Paris cannot equal.

On the afternoon of February 22d, in answer to an invitation extended to the party through President Spalding, by Dr. O'Connell, Director of the American College at Rome, we called at that inst.i.tution, in a body and were soon chatting with the students, some seventy-five in number, who came from a score of different cities in our own country.

They were a fine, manly lot, and just as fond of baseball, which they informed us that they often played, as though they were not studying for the priesthood. Meeting them reminded me of my old school days at Notre Dame, and of the many games that I had taken part in while there when the old gentleman was still busily engaged in trying to make something out of me, and I was just as busily engaged in blocking his little game.

After a pleasant chat Clarence Duval gave them an exhibition of dancing and baton swinging that amused them greatly, and then we adjourned to one of the cla.s.s-rooms, where we listened to brief addresses by Bishop McQuade of Rochester, N. Y., who was then in Rome on a visit; Bishop Payne of Virginia, and Dr. O'Connell, to all of which A. G. responded, after which we took our departure, but not before the students had all promised to witness the game of the next day.

This game was played on the private grounds of the Prince Borghese, which are thrown open to the public between the hours of three and five on Tuesday, Sat.u.r.day and Sunday of each week, and a prettier place for a diamond that the portion of it upon which we played, and which was known as the Piazza de Sienna, could not be imagined. Under the great trees that crowned the gra.s.sy terraces about the glade that afternoon a.s.sembled a crowd such as few ball players had ever played before, among the notables present being King Humbert of Italy, the Prince of Naples, Prince Borghese and family, Count Ferran, Princess Castel del Fino, Count Gionatti, Senora Crispi, wife of the Prime Minister, and her daughter, Charles Dougherty and ladies, the cla.s.s of the American College at Rome, members of the various diplomatic corps, tourists and others.

We were greeted by three rousing cheers and a tiger from the American College boys and then, after fifteen minutes of fast practice, we began the first professional ball game ever played in Rome, a game that both teams were most anxious to win. Crane and Earle and Tener and Daly were in the points. The game was a remarkable one throughout, the fielding on both sides being gilt-edged, and the score a tie at the end of the second inning, each side having two runs. Double plays, clean hitting and sharp fielding marked the next few innings, and it was not until the seventh inning Burns crossed the plate with the winning run for the Chicagos, the score standing 3 to 2. After this we played an exhibition game of two innings, that was marked by fast work throughout, and were heartily cheered as we lifted our caps and left the grounds.

Shortly after the noon hour the next day, which was Sunday, we started for Florence, the day being a cold and cheerless one, arriving there at 8:30 and finding quarters at the Hotel de Europe, not a stone's throw from the right bank of the Arno. It was too chilly for any gas-light trips that evening, and we retired early, but the next morning after an early breakfast we started in to make the most of the little time that we had at our disposal, and before the time set for play that afternoon we had taken flying peeps at the beautiful Cathedral of St. Maria, the home and studio of Michael Angelo, the palace of the Medicis and the Pitti and Uffizi galleries, both of which are rich in paintings, the works of the great masters.

We played that afternoon upon the Cascine or racecourse of Florence, in the midst of beautiful surroundings and in the presence of a crowd that was small but select, royalty having several representatives on the grounds. The game was a hotly-contested one throughout, Healy and Carroll and Baldwin and myself being the batteries, and was finally won by the All-Americas, the score standing at 7 to 4 in their favor.

It was five o'clock and raining when we left Florence the next morning.

We had landed in Italy in a rain storm and we left the land of sunshine and soft skies under the same unpleasant conditions.

CHAPTER XXIX. OUR VISIT TO LA BELLE FRANCE.

It was some days after we left the beautiful city of Florence, with its wealth of statuary and paintings, before we again donned our uniforms, the lack of grounds upon which we could play being the reason for our enforced idleness. The day we left Florence we crossed over the border and that night found us on French soil, and in the land of the "parlevooers." The ride from Florence to Nice, which latter city was our objective point, was one long dream of delight, the road running for nearly the entire distance along the sh.o.r.es of the Mediterranean and along the edge of high cliffs, at whose rocky bases waves were breaking into spray that, catching the gleam of the sunlight, reflected all the colors of the rainbow. Now and then the train plunged into the darkness of a tunnel, where all was blackness, but as it emerged again the sunlight became all the brighter by comparison. As we pa.s.sed through Pisa, a few hours out from Florence, we caught excellent view of the famous leaning tower, with the appearance of which every schoolboy has been made familiar by the pictures in his geography. At Genoa the train stopped for luncheon and there Pfeffer's appet.i.te proved to be too much for him, and as he couldn't speak Italian he lingered so long at the table as to get left, coming on in the next train a few hours afterwards, and getting guyed unmercifully regarding his tremendous capacity for storing away food.

In the course of the afternoon we pa.s.sed through the the city of Diana Maria, that four years before had been destroyed by an earthquake, in which some four hundred people were killed or severely injured. It was a desolate enough looking place as viewed from the car windows, the broken walls that seemed ready to tumble at the slightest touch, and the bare rafters all bearing witness to the terrible shaking up that the city had received. Leaving Diana Maria we pa.s.sed through some beautiful mountain scenery, the little villages that cl.u.s.tered in the valleys looking from our point of view like a collection of birdhouses. It was nearly dark when we reached San Remo, where the late Emperor of Germany had lain during his last illness, and quite so when we left it and entered the station of Vingt Mille, on the French border, and some twenty miles from our destination.

Here Crane's monkey was the cause of our getting into trouble, a couple of Italians, who had taken offense at the free-and-easy ways of Fogarty, Crane and Carroll, who occupied the same apartment with them, informing the guard that the New-Yorker had the little animal in his pocket, the fare for which was immediately demanded and refused.

At Vingt Mille, after the customs authorities had examined our baggage, and we were about to take the train again, we were stopped and informed that we would not be allowed to proceed until the monkey's fare had been paid. It was some time before we ascertained the real cause of our detention, none of us being able to speak Italian, and when we finally learned the train had gone on without us. Seventeen francs were paid for the monk's ride in Crane's pocket, and we thought the episode settled, but later on the official came back, stating that a mistake had been made and that the monk's fare was nine francs more, but this Crane positively refused to pay until we were again surrounded by a cordon of soldiers, when he "anted up," but most unwillingly. It was an imposition, doubtless, but they had the might on their side and that settled the business. After that the gentleman (?) who had acted as interpreter, doubtless thinking that Americans were "soft marks," put in a claim of twenty francs for services, but this he did not get, though he came very close to receiving the toe of a boot in its stead.

After once more getting started we sped past the gambling palaces of Monte Carlo and Monaco, that loomed up close behind us in the darkness, and, arriving at Nice, finally secured quarters in the Interlachen Hotel, the city being crowded with strangers who had come from all parts of the world to view the "Battle of Flowers," that was to take place on the morrow. It rained all that night and all the next day, and as a result the carnival had to be postponed, and the floral decorations presented a somewhat woe-begone and bedraggled appearance. It had been our intention to play a game here, but to our astonishment and the disappointment of several hundred Americans then in Nice, the project had to be abandoned for the reason that there was not a ground or anything that even remotely resembled one, within the city limits.

The rain that had caused the postponement of the carnival did not prevent us from leaving the hotel, however, and the entire party put in the day visiting the great gambling halls of Monte Carlo, which are today as famous on this side of the water as they are on the continent, and where the pa.s.sion for gambling has ruined more people of both s.e.xes than all of the other gambling h.e.l.ls of the world combined. A more beautiful spot than Monte Carlo it would be hard to imagine, the interior of the great gambling hall being handsomer than that of any theater or opera house that we had seen, and furnished in the most gorgeous manner. The work of the landscape gardener can here be seen at its best, no expense having been spared to make the grounds that surrounded the building devoted to games of chance the handsomest in the world. In its great halls one sees every sort and variety of people.

Lords and Ladies, Princes and Princesses, Dukes and d.u.c.h.esses, gamblers and courtesans, all find place at the table where the monotonous voices of the croupiers and the clinking of the little ivory ball are about the only sounds that break the silence.

The majority of the members of our party tried their luck at the tables, as does everybody that goes to Monte Carlo, no matter how strongly they may condemn the practice when at home, and some of us were lucky enough to carry off some of the bank's money, Mr. Spalding, Mrs. Anson and myself among the number. There is as much of a fascination in watching the faces of the players around the tables as there is in following the chances of the game, and the regular habitues of the place can be spotted almost at the first glance. One day at Monte Carlo was quite enough for us and we were glad to get back to Nice and out of the way of temptation.

The second day after we arrived at Nice the flower festival took place, and luckily the weather was almost perfect. All the morning for a distance of some twenty blocks the Avenue des Anglaise, where the battle of flowers is annually held, the decorators had been busy preparing for the event, and by afternoon decked in flowers and gaily-colored ribbons, bunting and flags, the scene that it presented was a brilliant one. By three o'clock it was crowded with elegant equipages filled with men, women and flowers, the two former pelting each other with blossoms to their heart's content, the spectators in the adjacent windows and on the sidewalks taking part in the mimic war. Conspicuous in the party was the Prince of Wales and his friends, among which were several of our fair countrywomen, the whole party distributing their flowers right and left with reckless-prodigality. The number of handsome women, the splendid street decorations, and the abundance of flowers that were scattered about in lavish profusion made a brilliant picture and one that it is not to be wondered that tourists journey from all parts of the continent to witness.

The next morning we were off for Paris, stopping over at Lyons for the night, where there was snow on the ground, the weather being cold and disagreeable, and it was not until Sat.u.r.day that we arrived in "La Belle Paris," the Mecca of all Americans who have money to spend and who desire to spend it, and the fame of whose magnificent boulevards, parks, palaces, squares and monuments has not extended half as far as has the fame of its Latin Quartier, with its gay student life, its masked b.a.l.l.s, with their wild abandon, its theaters made famous by the great Rachael, Sara Bernhardt and others, and its gardens, where high kickers are in their glory. All of these were to be seen and all of these we saw, that is, all of them that we could see in the short week that was allotted to us, it being a week of late hours and wild dissipation so far as my wife and myself were concerned, we rarely retiring until long after the hour of midnight. Our days were spent in driving about the city and its environs, and in viewing the various places of interest that were to be seen, from the magnificent galleries filled with the rarest of paintings and statuary to the dark and gloomy Bastille, while our nights were devoted to the theater and b.a.l.l.s, and at both of these we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.

In Paris we met a great many members of the American colony from whom we received much courtesy and attention, and to whom I should like to have a chance of returning the many kindnesses that were showered upon us during the time that we remained in the French capital.

As a business man the Parisian is not a decided success when viewed from the American standpoint, but as a b.u.t.terfly in pursuit of pleasure he cannot be beaten. He is polite and courteous at all times, however, but is not to be trusted when making a trade, he having learned to look upon all Americans with money as his natural and legitimate prey, and so is prepared to take the advantage of you and yours whenever the opportunity is given him.

It was not until the afternoon of March 8th that we were given a chance to show the Parisians how the National Game of America is played, and then we put up a fairly good exhibition, both teams being more than anxious to win, and playing in a most spirited fashion. This game was played at the Parc Aristotique, situated on the banks of the Seine, just opposite the Exposition Buildings, and within plain sight of the great Eiffel Tower, it being walled in by gardens and big city residences. The game was made memorable by the large number of Americans that were present and by the distinguished people before whom it was played. Among these were General Brugere and Captain Chamin, representing President Carnot of the French Republic, who sent a letter regretting that his official duties prevented him from seeing the game; Mr. and Mrs. William Joy, of the American Legation; Miss McLane, daughter of the American Minister at Paris; Miss Urquhart, a sister of Mrs. James Brown Potter, the actress; Consul General Rathbone, and a host of others prominent in diplomatic, social and theatrical circles. It was in the second inning of the game that the famous "stone wall" infield of the Chicagos was broken up through an injury received by Ed Williamson, from the effects of which he never fully recovered. He had taken his base on b.a.l.l.s in the second inning and, was trying to steal second when he tripped and fell, tearing his knee cap on the sharp sand and gravel of which the playing surface was composed. He was taken by his wife, who was among the spectators, to his hotel, and it was thought that a few days of rest would see him all right again, but such did not prove to be the case, as he was still confined to his room in London when we sailed for home, and it was until late in the season of 1889 that he was again able to report for duty. This necessitated Baldwin's going to first while Ryan took Williamson's place at short and weakened our team very materially, as Williamson was always a tower of strength to us. We were very decidedly off, too, in our batting, and it was not until the sixth inning that a home run by Ryan and a two-bagger by Pett.i.t, and a pa.s.sed ball enabled us to put two men over the plate. These were all the runs we got, however, and at the end of the second inning, when game was called, the score stood at 6 to 2 in All-Americas' favor.

How the members of either game were enabled to play as good ball as they did, not only in Paris but in other cities that we visited after the inactivity of steamer life, the late hours, and the continual round of high living that they indulged in, is a mystery, and one that is past my fathoming, and yet the ball that they put up on many of these occasions that I have spoken of was ball of the championship kind and the sort that would have won even in, League company.

At half-past eight o'clock we left Paris for our trip across the English Channel, taking the long route from Dieppe to New Haven, and if we all wished ourselves dead and buried a hundred times before reaching the latter Port we can hardly be blamed, as a worse night for making the trip could not well have been chosen. It was one o'clock in the morning when the train from Paris bearing the members of our party arrived at Dieppe, and the wind at that time was blowing a gale. Down the dock in the face of this we marched and aboard the little side-wheel steamer "Normande," where our quarters were much too cramped for comfort. A few minutes later the lines were cast off and the steamer was tossing about like a cork on the face of the waters, now up and now down, and seemingly trying at times to turn a somersault, a feat that luckily for us she did not succeed in accomplishing, else this story might never have been written. There was no doing on deck, even had we been capable of making an effort to do so, which we were not, as we could hear the large waves that swept over the vessel strike the planking with a heavy thud that shook the steamer from stem to stern, and then go rushing away into the scuppers.

Up and down, down and up, all night long, and if we had never prayed to be set ash.o.r.e before we did on that occasion, but as helpless as logs we lay in our staterooms, not much caring whether the next plunge made by the ship was to be the last or not. I had had slight attacks of seasickness before, but on this occasion I was good and seasick, and Mrs. Anson was, if such a thing were possible, even in a worse condition than I was. At about three in the morning we heard the noise of a heavy shock followed by the crashing of timbers and the shouts of sailors that sounded but faintly above the roar of the tempest, and the next morning discovered that a huge wave had carried away the bridge, the lookout fortunately managing to escape being carried away with the wreck. The experience of that awful night is one never to be forgotten, a night that, according to the captain, was the worst that he had ever witnessed during his thirty years of experience, and it was with feelings of great relief that we dropped anchor in the harbor of New Haven the next morning, where the sun shone brightly and the sea was comparatively quiet.

We were a pretty seedy-looking lot when we boarded the train for London, where we debarked at the Victoria Station about half-past nine o'clock, still looking much the worse for wear and like a collection of invalids than a party of representative ball players. Getting into carriages we were at once driven through the city to Holburn, where quarters at the First Avenue Hotel had been provided, and where we were only too glad to rest for a time and recover from the awful shaking up that the English Channel had given us; a shaking up that it took Mrs. Anson some time to recover from, as it also did the other ladies of the party.

We had expected to play our first game of ball in England on the day of our arrival, but the game had been called off before we got there because of the storm, the grounds being flooded. It was a lucky thing for us that such was the case, as there was not one of the party who could have hit a balloon after the experience of the night before, or who could have gone around the bases at a gait that would have been any faster than a walk.

CHAPTER x.x.x. THROUGH ENGLAND, SCOTLAND AND IRELAND.

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 t.i.tles 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 n.o.bility, acted as chairman of the a.s.semblage, 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 a.s.sembled 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 circ.u.mstances 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 a.s.sembled 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 s.p.a.ce 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.