A Ball Player's Career / Being the Personal Experiences and Reminiscensces of Adrian C. Anson

by Adrian C. Anson

while the sick ones that lay in their staterooms were hoping and praying they'd die.

That night there was no comfort to be had on deck, which was wet and slippery, so a mock trial was held in the cabin that afforded considerable amusement, General Strange acting as the presiding judge and Sir James Willoughby as the prisoner at the bar. Charges had been preferred to the effect that Sir James was not a peer of the realm as he had represented himself, and that he was carrying concealed weapons in violation of the ship's law. John Ward acted as counsel for the defendant, Col. House as prosecuting attorney, and Jimmy Forgarty as court crier. The witnesses were all sworn not to tell the truth, and anything but the truth, and as a result there were such whoppers told as would have made the original Annanias turn green with envy. Thanks to the eloquence of John Ward, however, Sir James was acquitted with all honor, but that trial was one of the most amusing incidents of the voyage.

The spell of heavy weather lasted but a few hours, after which time the wind died away, the waves calmed down and the sun shone as brilliantly as ever. On the night of December 30th and while the weather still left much to be desired, we sighted the Northernmost Island of the Samoan group, which are famous by reason of the destruction of a fleet of United States cruisers anchored in one of the harbors by a tornado, a native insurrection that threatened to bring about war between the United States and Germany, and as the home and burial place of Robert Louis Stevenson, the famous writer. Ed Crane and several others of the party and myself were sitting on deck and under the shelter of an awning watching for a glimpse of the land that we all knew was not far away, when a little after 11 o'clock we ran suddenly under the lee of a mountainous ridge of land that loomed up like a huge shadow in the uncertain light, and almost immediately found ourselves in smooth water.

Walking toward the bow of the boat we reached there just as a green signal light was flashed from the bridge. Before us lay the land, and as we watched, a light twinkled on the shore nearly five miles away in answer to our signal. Slowly we steamed toward it, the signal lights flashing their messages at short intervals through the darkness until we reached the harbor, where we lay about half a mile from the land until a sloop and a dory reached us with the mail and passengers for Auckland. Of both the land and the natives we had but a glimpse, one of the latter, a red-headed and stalwart specimen of his race, clambering to the steamer's deck in order to get a receipt for the mail and a glassful of gin, both of which were given him by the purser. The former he stowed away somewhere in his scanty clothing and the latter he gulped down as though it were water, after which he swung himself over the rail and disappeared from sight in the darkness. A few moments later we had left Samoan Islands behind us and were again tossing on the foam-topped waves. Samoa was left not far behind, however, when the weather turned colder and before many hours had passed we were all glad to change our clothing of a tropical weight for garments that were much heavier, and to seek comfortable places in the cabin at night rather than the open deck. Even the cricket practice had begun to get monotonous, and we were all looking forward with pleasure to the time when we might once more feel the solid land beneath our feet.

It was with feelings of delight therefore that we heard early on the morning of December 9th that we were within sight of our destination and that we should be on shore, barring accident, by the noon hour. Standing on deck long before it was time for breakfast, we feasted our eyes on the green hills that were in plain sight, and then fell to wondering what sort of a welcome awaited us in the New Zealand seaport that we were rapidly nearing.

While at the breakfast table that morning Capt. Morse was presented by Gen. Strange, on behalf of the passengers, with a purse of $200 as a testimonial to his skill, kindness and uniform courtesy. The big Captain was taken by surprise, but he acknowledged the gift in a brief and manly speech that brought out a round of applause from the listeners.

The harbor at Auckland is reached by means of a winding passage walled in by hills of volcanic origin, and the bay itself is second only to that of Sydney in beauty, the sides of the high hills that wall it in being dotted here and there by pretty residences of white stone, surrounded by broad porticos and handsomely arranged grounds. The town was as quiet as a country funeral and this we marveled at until we were informed that we had lost a day from our calendar and that instead of being Saturday as we had thought, it was Sunday. Leigh Lynch, who had been detained at Sydney, had sent his cousin, Will Lynch, to meet us and as the steamer was made fast to the dock he came on board with a bouquet of flowers for the different members of the party. Several newspaper men, who followed him shortly afterward, expressed their regret that we had not arrived the day before, as then we could have played to some eight or ten thousand people. We had expected to remain in Auckland but a few hours and were therefore agreeably surprised when Capt. Morse informed us that the Alameda would remain there to coal until 5 o'clock the next afternoon.

After a good dinner at the Imperial Hotel, Mrs. Anson and myself, accompanied by others of the party, drove about Auckland and its environs and though a drizzling rain was falling we found much to admire and to wonder at in the vicinity of that New Zealand seaport. Soon after sundown the skies cleared and that evening we enjoyed ourselves in strolling about the streets, being determined to make the most of the short time on shore that was allotted to us.

The next day dawned bright and beautiful, and, after paying a visit to the City Hall, where we received a warm welcome from Mayor Devore, we proceeded to get into our base-ball uniforms and prepare for the game that was to take place that afternoon.

During the noon hour the local band came marching down the principal street to the dock, and shortly afterward it started at the head of a procession of carriages containing the ball players and two tally-hos containing the passengers of the Alameda, who attended the game as our guests. The enclosure in which we played that day was as handsome as any that we saw in New Zealand, the grounds being as level as a billiard table and the turf as smooth and soft as velvet. The game was one that was remarkable on both sides for its heavy batting, the ball rolling away over the smooth surface of the outfield in a way that almost broke the hearts of the fielders and at the same time gave them more exercise than they had had for weeks. The 4,500 people that witnessed the contest waxed enthusiastic over the heavy batting of the visitors from the "States" and also over the splendid fielding. Baldwin was in the box for us in this game and pitched great ball, Crane doing the twirling for the All-Americas. The Chicago: proved to be the winners and the score, 22 to 13, shows the cannonading done on both sides. This was a good game for both teams to play when the fact is taken into consideration that the players still had their sea legs on and simply shows the good condition that the cricket practice on board the ship had kept them in.