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 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.