Particularly was this true of Rear Admiral C. M. Thomas. Had the latter made unfavorable representations to the Navy Department of the condition of Admiral Evans he possibly might have secured the command of the fleet for himself. Not for one moment would he have listened to such a suggestion, and no one dared to make it to him. Robley D. Evans never had more loyal friend or more faithful subordinate officer than Charles M. Thomas. He deserves lasting honor from the country for his record on this cruise, to say nothing of the enviable record throughout his long service to his flag.
California's welcome to the fleet was characteristic of the ardent temperament of that commonwealth. It received the men and the ships with an acclaim such as might have been bestowed justly had they returned to an American port victorious on the high seas over an enemy. The people seemed to go mad in their enthusiasm. The demonstrations began when Admiral Evans left Magdalena Bay in the latter part of March by the advice of his physicians, to go to Paso Robles, Cal., for a stay on land. His flagship took him to San Diego and his presence in California seemed to stimulate the people into a sort of frenzied patriotism.
The fleet stopped at five California anchorages on the way from Magdalena to San Francisco, the real terminus of the cruise as ordered originally by President Roosevelt. There was a stay of four days at San Diego, of seven days in the four anchorages adjacent to Los Angeles, the fleet being split up into four divisions; of five days in Santa Barbara and of four days in Monterey and Santa Cruz. At each port the welcome was overwhelming. Streets and buildings were decorated, flowers were scattered on the streets before the marching sailors and thrown in profusion into vehicles in which the officers rode. Los Angeles particularly devoted its attention to entertaining the bluejackets. Santa Barbara gave one of its wonderful flower shows. It was the most novel and beautiful entertainment of the cruise. The other cities entertained with dinners, balls and receptions. The keynote of the functions was one of great rejoicing on the part of California, not only because the United States had a great fleet of battleships, but because California was enabled to see them all at one time.
The arrival of the fleet at San Francisco on May 6 was characterized by such a demonstration of enthusiasm and an outpouring of the people as the country never saw before. Tens of thousands came hundreds of miles to see the entrance through the Golden Gate. Admiral Evans, who had returned to the command of his flagship the day before at Monterey, led the fleet into the harbor. The hills were black with spectators. The harbor was crowded with beautifully decorated shipping carrying thousands on the water to see the show. The Pacific fleet of eight armored cruisers and auxiliaries lay inside the bay. With the Battle Fleet was the torpedo flotilla that made the trip around South America at the same time that the Battle Fleet went around.
The Atlantic and Pacific fleets joined in one and then Admiral Evans made a circle, nearly two miles in diameter, leading no less than forty-two men of war of the United States, the largest number of American warships ever assembled together since the civil war, and the most powerful fleet ever seen in the Western hemisphere, a fleet greater in size and power than any nation had ever gathered together before with the exception of Great Britain.
Following the arrival of the fleet there was a great land parade in San Francisco, the next day, in which 6,000 bluejackets joined with the regular army troops and state national guard and other organizations. It was the largest parade of the kind since the great Dewey parade in New York ten years before. Admiral Evans rode in the line. It was his last public appearance as a Commander-in-Chief. The people cheered the bluejackets wildly, but they went mad over Admiral Evans. They made a hero out of him because of his persistent and plucky struggle with pain and disease. Although thousands of men marched in the parade there really was only one man in it—Fighting Bob Evans. All the others were a mere escort. His naval sun went down that day in a veritable blaze of glory.
The next day Secretary Metcalf of the Navy Department reviewed the combined fleets, passing through the lines on the gunboat Yorktown and receiving a salute of seventeen guns from each ship as "the personal representative of the President." The next day Admiral Evans gave up command formally to Admiral Thomas at a hotel, where that evening Admiral Evans was taken in a wheeled chair to the dining room where a banquet in honor of Secretary Metcalf and the officers of the fleet was being held and where Admiral Evans, wan and feeble and scarcely able to stand, electrified his audience by declaring impassionedly that what this country needs "is more battleships and fewer statesmen." On the day following Rear Admiral Thomas hoisted his flag as Commander-in-Chief, to be relieved five days later by Rear Admiral Charles S. Sperry.
Under the latter's command the fleet went to Puget Sound to give the people of that region an opportunity to see the ships, such as had been given along the California coast. There were the usual rounds of entertainment and then the fleet scattered to various places to make repairs and to prepare to resume the voyage around the world by way of Australia, the Orient and the Mediterranean.
The arrival of the fleet at San Francisco marked the real end of the cruise. With that there was accomplished the specific purpose for which it was ordered to the Pacific. What that purpose was may never be revealed. All the naval officers concerned felt that the rest of the trip to the home stations of the ships would be largely a pleasure jaunt. All agreed that with the arrival at San Francisco the record of a momentous cruise by a momentous fleet had been made up.