I was obliged to make arrangements not only for provisioning my principal artists, but also for cooking their food. I bought, when we were on the point of starting, a couple of hams and some cans of tinned meat, wine, and several gallons of whisky; the latter being intended not for internal consumption, but simply for cooking purposes. I found that there was no kitchen in the train, and I was obliged to improvise one as best I could. Del Puente, besides being an excellent singer, is a very tolerable second-rate cook; and I appointed him to the duty of preparing the macaroni (which I must admit he did in first-rate style), and of acting generally as kitchenmaid and scullion. I myself officiated as chef, and saw at the close of each day that the eminent baritone washed up the plates and dishes and kept the kitchen utensils generally in good order.
Early every morning I prepared the coffee for breakfast; and I believe no better, and certainly no hotter coffee was ever made than that which one day just before the breakfast hour I upset, through a jolt of the train, over my unhappy legs.
The fresh invigorating air of the mountains and of the spacious plains may have had something to do with it; but to judge from results, I may fairly say that my cooking was appreciated. My eight principal artists were, moreover, in charming temper. All professional jealousy and rivalry had been forgotten, except perhaps on the part of Del Puente, who did not quite like the secondary position which I had assigned to an artist who had previously refused all but leading parts.
At most of the principal stations we were able to purchase eggs, chickens, tomatoes, and salad. There was generally, moreover, a cow in the neighbourhood; and wherever we had an opportunity of doing so we laid in a supply of fresh milk.
While on the subject of cows, I must say a word as to the cruel fate which these unhappy beasts meet with at the hands of the railway people. In front of every train there is a "cow-catcher," which, when a cow gets on the line, shunts the wretched animal off and at the same time breaks its legs. I begged the driver more than once to stop the train and put the mutilated animal out of its misery with a revolver shot, but it was not thought worth while.
When a cow is destroyed by the "cow-catcher" the owner can claim from the railway company half its value; and it is said that in bad times when cattle are low in the market, or worse still, unsaleable, they are driven on to the line with a view to destruction. I have often in a day's journey perceived hundreds of the bleached skeletons of the animals killed outright by the "cow-catcher," or maimed and left to die. An inspector, appointed by the railway company, passes from time to time along the line and, after settling up, marks in the left ear and at the tip of the tail the dead beasts for which the company has paid. The former owner disposes of the carcasses and hides; the latter alone possessing appreciable value. The former are left on the ground to become food for the crows; though the Indians will sometimes cut away portions of the meat when they come upon a beast which is still fresh.
During our eight days' journey I acted not only as cook, but also as butler; and our various wines, all of Californian growth, were excellent. They cost from 8d to 10d a bottle, and I was not alone in regarding them as of excellent quality. Singers are not great wine drinkers, but they are accustomed to wines of the first quality; and I may say in favour of the wines of California that they were appreciated and bought for conveyance to Europe by artists of such indubitable taste as Patti, Nilsson, and Gerster. The cost of carriage renders it impossible to send the wines of California to Europe for sale. But someday, when, for instance, the Panama Canal has been cut, there will be a market for them both in England and on the Continent. They are, of course, of different qualities. But the finest Californian vintages may be pronounced incomparable. I remember once being entertained in company with some of my leading artists by Surgeon-General Hammond, at his house in Fifty-eighth Street, New York, when some Californian champagne was served which we all thought admirable. Our facetious host disguised it under labels bearing the familiar names of "Heidsieck" and "Pommery-Greno;" and we all thought we were drinking the finest vintages of Epernay and of Rheims. Then under the guise of Californian champagne he gave us genuine Pommery and genuine Heidsieck; the result being that we were all deceived. The wine labelled as French, but which was in fact Californian, was pronounced excellent, while the genuine French wines described as of Californian origin seemed of inferior quality.
On arriving at Cheyenne I found it would be impossible to reach Omaha in time to perform Carmen, which was announced for the following evening; or Burlington, where Lucia was billed for the Saturday; or Chicago for our Sunday concert, for which every place had been taken. All had to be abandoned. Our special train was consequently diverted off to the right in the direction of Denver, where I telegraphed to know if they could take us in for a concert the following Sunday. On receiving a negative reply, I telegraphed to Kansas City, where my proposition was accepted. I consequently wired the Kansas manager the names of the artists and the programme containing the pieces each would sing. Through the manipulation of the telegraph clerks scarcely one of the artists' names was spelt right, whilst the pieces they proposed to sing, as I afterwards found, were all muddled up together.
In due course our party reached Denver, where we took half an hour's stop for watering the train and obtaining ice for the water tanks in the different cars, after which we started on our road to Kansas City.
Shortly after leaving Denver one of my sergeants belonging to the corps of commissionaires—several of whom I had brought from London—was taken ill and reported to be suffering from sunstroke received many years previously in India.