The night we left Ismalia and started for Port Said, the port of
entrance at the northernmost end of the Suez Canal, 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 canal through which we had passed 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 Canal itself, which is an enduring
monument to the brains of Ferdinand de Lesseps. Every now and then our
little steamer passed 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 passengers 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 shores 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 principal 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 grasshoppers, 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 massive 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 pass 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 institution, 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 class-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, Saturday 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 grassy terraces about the glade that afternoon
assembled 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 class 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.