Having collected a company of more than two hundred men and animals, consisting of Indians, cowboys, Mexican riders, rifle-shots, buffaloes, Texas steers, burros, broncos, racing-horses, elk, bear, and an immense amount of paraphernalia such as tents, wagons, stage-coach, arms, ammunition, costumes, and all equipage necessary, the steamship City of Nebraska, Captain Braes, was chartered. The City of Nebraska, loaded with the Wild West, set sail from New York, Thursday, March 31, 1887. The piers were crowded with thousands of good friends who went down to wave adieux and to wish the Wild West a pleasant voyage and success.
As the steamship City of Nebraska pulled out of the dock the cowboy band played “The Girl I Left Behind Me” in a manner that suggested more reality than empty sentiment in the familiar air. Before starting on the trip a number of the Indians had expressed grave fears about trusting themselves upon the mighty ocean, fearing that a dreadful death would soon overtake them, and it required much persuasion at the last moment to induce them to go on board.
Red Shirt explained that these fears were caused by a superstitious belief that if a red man attempted to cross the ocean he would be seized of a malady that would first prostrate the victim and then slowly consume his flesh, until at length the very skin itself would drop from his bones, leaving nothing but the skeleton, and this even would never find burial. This weird belief was repeated by the chiefs of several tribes to the Indians who had joined the Wild West, so there was little reason for wonder that the poor children of the forest should hesitate to submit themselves to such an experiment. On the day following the departure from New York the Indians began to grow weary, and becoming seasick they were both treacherous and rebellious. Their fears were greatly intensified as even Red Shirt, the bravest of his people, looked anxiously toward the hereafter, and began to feel his flesh to see if it was really diminishing. The hopelessness stamped upon the faces of the Indians was pitiful to behold, and but for the endeavors of Buffalo Bill to cheer them up and relieve their forebodings there is no knowing what might have happened. But for two days the whole company, Indians, cowboys, and all, did little other active service than to feed the fishes.
On the third day all began to grow better, and the Indians were called into the salon and given a sermon by Buffalo Bill; Red Shirt also, having lost his anxiety, joining in the oratory.
After the seasickness was over, Mr. Salsbury, as singer and comedian, took an active part in amusing all on board. The seventh day of the voyage a fierce storm swept over the sea, and the ship was forced to lay to, and during its continuance the stock suffered greatly; but only one horse died on the trip. At last the steamship cast anchor off Gravesend, and a tugboat loaded with custom-house and quarantine officers boarded to make the usual inspection. The English government, through its officials, extended every courtesy. A special permit was given for the animals to land, and the people started for the camp.
The arrival of the City of Nebraska had been watched for with great curiosity, as a number of yachts, tugboats, and other craft surrounding it testified. A tug was soon seen flying the Stars and Stripes, and as it came nearer the strains of “The Star Spangled Banner,” rendered by the band on her deck, floated across the water. As the welcome strains ended, the cowboy band on the Nebraska responded with “Yankee Doodle.” When the tug came alongside, the company on board proved to be the directors of the American exhibition in London, with Lord Ronald Gower heading a distinguished committee and representatives of the leading journals of England.
As Buffalo Bill landed with the committee three cheers were given, and cries rang out of “Welcome to old England,” giving pleasing evidence of the public interest that had been awakened through the coming of the Wild West. A special train with saloon carriages was waiting to convey the party to London, and leaving behind them the old Kentish town, in an hour after they arrived at Victoria Station.
Entering the headquarters of the exhibition Buffalo Bill and those who accompanied him found a bounteous repast set, and a generous welcome was accorded them. After brief social converse a visit was made to the grounds, where hundreds of busy workmen were hastening the completion of the arena, the grand-stand, and stabling for the cattle. When it is taken into consideration that these operations were dealing with an expenditure of over one hundred and thirty thousand dollars, the greatness of the enterprise can be understood. An arena of more than a third of a mile in circumference, flanked by a grand-stand filled with seats and boxes to accommodate 20,000 persons, sheltered stands for 10,000 more, the standing-room being 10,000, will give an idea of the size of the Wild West exhibition grounds.
The interest evinced by the British workmen in the coming of the Wild West people was as a straw indicating which way the wind blew, or intended to blow. On the following morning, when the tide was at its flood, the City of Nebraska steamed up the river, the trip being a pleasure to all on board. With the assistance of the horsemen, each looking after his own horse, the unloading was begun and carried on with a rapidity that astonished even the old dock-hands and officials. Through the courtesy of the custom-house people there was hardly a moment’s delay in the debarkation; but although landing in London, the Wild West was still twelve miles away from its city camp. Loading the entire outfit on two trains, it was speedily delivered at the Midland Railway Depot adjoining the grounds, and by 4 o’clock on the same afternoon the horses and other animals had been stabled, watered, and fed, and the camp equipage and bedding distributed. The camp cooks were preparing the evening meal, tents were going up, stoves being erected, tables spread and set in the open air, tepees erected, and by 6 o’clock a perfect canvas city had sprung up in the heart of West End London.
Upon the flag-staff the starry banner had been run up and was floating in the breeze, and the cowboy band rendering the national airs of America, amid the shouts and cheers of thousands who lined the walls, streets, and housetops of the surrounding neighborhood. This was most gratifying to the newcomers, and in answer to the hearty plaudits of the English, Colonel Cody ordered the band to play “God Save the Queen,” and the Wild West was at home in London.