Excepting this unpleasantness, our stay in Melbourne was one round of pleasure and honors. We were given free rides on the railroads to any point. From commander down to grayback, all had their free passes. The wealthiest club in Melbourne elected us honorary members. Barry Sullivan, then playing Othello, gave us an especial night, when, with true British gusto, the flaring bills read: “Under the distinguished patronage of the officers of the Confederate Steamship Shenandoah.” There we looked down upon an auditorium packed to suffocation as we sat in the royal box. One hundred miles away, at Ballarat, a red-letter day was set apart for our reception. Only seven of us could attend. The entire town came out to greet us, and across the main street on a triumphal arch of flowers were the letters in garland: “Welcome to Ballarat.”
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