\33\ ?/^S.5 CORNELL UNIVERSITY UBRARY -•*'•• i BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 189I BY -HENRY WILLIAMS .^SAGE wsr. ^~»^ ??'■"*" University Library PS 1331.P14S5 A short I fe of Mark Twain. 3 1924 022 022 465 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022022465 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN ABRIDGED FROM "mARK TWAIN A BIOGRAPHY" Books bt ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE For Young Readers HOLLOW TREE NIGHTS AND DAYS THE BOYS' LIFE OF MARK TWAIN THE HOLLOW TREE AND DEEP-WOODS BOOK THE HOLLOW TREE SNOWED-IN BOOK Small books of several stories each, selectedfrom the above Hollow Tree books : HOW MR. DOG GOT EVEN HOW MR. RABBIT LOST HIS TAIL MR. RABBIT'S BIG DINNER MAKING UP WITH MR. DOG MR. 'POSSUM'S GREAT BALLOON TRIP MR. RABBIT'S WEDDING MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH MR. TURTLE'S FLYING ADVENTURE WHEN JACK RABBIT WAS A LITTLE BOY For Grown-ups DWELLERS IN ARCADY FROM VAN-DWELLER TO COMMUTER MOMENTS WITH MARK TWAIN MARK TWAIN'S LETTERS MARK TWAIN: A Bioqbapht PEANUT (Story of a boy) SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN TH. NAST: His Period and His Piotubes THE SHIP-DWELLERS (Humorous travel) THE TENT-DWELLERS (Humorous camping) (Humorous, home life) HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK Established 1817 MARK TWAIN AT SEVENTY A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN By ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE Author of ~ "Mark Twain: A Biography" ■"Moments with Mark Twain" Etc. ILLUSTRATED HARPER &. BROTHERS PUBLISHERS ) NEW YORK AND LONDON ■y III "" T in I' l "1 l\A^2\\ /Mark Twain was always willing to sacrifice history, ^ and himself, for the sake of a good story. There was a very pleasant side to the San Fran- cisco life. Even in that long-ago time San Fran- cisco had its literary group, and among its members were those whose names and work would travel far. Joaquin Miller was one of the coterie, and his diary of that day records his having seen assembled at one time in the offices of the Golden Era Adah Isaacs Menken, Prentice MuJford, Bret Harte, Charles Warren Stoddard, Fitzhugh Ludlow, Mark Twain, Orpheus C. Kerr, Artemus Ward, and several others. Certainly a remarkable group to have been dropped down there behind the Sierras, which the transcontinental railway would not cross for several years. The Golden Era, edited by Joseph E. Lawrence, was a journal of considerable literary pretension, and these were its contributors. The Era had luxuriously appointed rooms and they made it their gathering place. They were a happy-hearted, aspir- ing lot, and received as much as five dollars some- times for an article, which, of course, seemed a good deal more precious than a much larger sum earned in another way. Mark Twain and Bret Harte were distinctive features of this group. They were already recog- nized by their associates as belonging to a class by themselves, though as yet neither had done any of the work foi* which he would be remembered later. Harte had been a printer on the Era, and set up his first articles in type, as he composed them. When 98 AT THE GOLDEN GATE the CaUfornian was started by Charles Henry Webb, he was made the editor and fitted out with offices suited to his luxurious taste. He paid Mark Twain twelve dollars apiece for his articles, and gave him valuable suggestions as to their preparation. Harte's fame lay all ahead, but those were his best days. Among the sketches done by Mark Twain for the CaUfornian were some of those to-day included in the voltune, Sketches New and Old. "The Killing of JuHus Cffisar Localized" was one of these, also "Answers to Correspondents," both excellent of their kind. They appear to have attracted Uttle or no attention east of the Rocky Mountains. XXII MARK TWAIN GOES MINING AGAIN AND FINDS A NUGGET TN his letters to the Enterprise Mark Twain found •^ the opportunity that had been denied to him on the Call. San Francisco was politically corrupt, and Goodman was only too glad to give him a free hand. He attacked the police department with such ferocity that as soon as copies of the Enterprise came up from Virginia the city hall was filled with trouble and loud with fierce threats. Stimulated by the commotion, the writer let himself go more vigorously than ever. He sent letters to the Enter- prise at which even the printers stood aghast. Goodman, however, ordered that every word be printed, adding: "If Mark can stand it, I can." The libel suit which Martin G. Burke, chief of police, brought against the Enterprise advertised that paper amazingly. Copies were snatched in San Francisco as soon as the Virginia stage arrived. Unfortunately, as it seemed at the time, Steve Gillis, always a fearless defender of the weak, one night rushed to the assistance of two strangers who had been set upon by three roughs in a barroom. Steve was a fierce and trained fighter and selected the barkeeper, a big bruiser, who was ready for the lOO MARK TWAIN FINDS A NUGGET hospital when the fight ended. But it turned out that he was a favorite of the poUce, and a warrant was issued for Gillis on a charge of assault with intent to kill. Clemens, of course, went on his bond, and with other friends advised Steve to go down to Virginia City until the storm blew over. This fiimished a choice opportunity for Chief of PoUce Burke. When the case was called and Gillis did not appear, Burke promptly instituted action against his bondsman, with an execution looking to the possession of his personal effects. If James N. Gillis, brother of Steve, had not happened along just then and spirited Mark Twain away to his mining camp in the Tuolumne Hills, the beautiful gold watch presented to the Governor of the Third House might have been sacrificed in the cause of friendship. As it was he found himself presently in that remote and peaceful Arcady which Bret Harte would one day picture in his tales of Roaring Camp and Sandy Bar. Jim Gillis was, in fact, the Truthful James of Bret Harte's poem, and his cabin on Jackass Hill had been the retreat of Harte and many another literary wayfarer, who had found there refreshment and peace. It was said that the sick were made well and the well made better in Jim Gillis's cabin on the hilltop, where the air was nectar and the stillness like enchantment. Gillis himself had literary instincts, and plenty of books. He remained a pocket miner because he loved its fascinations and the quiet of his retreat. He was willing to teach the science to his visitors lOI A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN and make them his partners. On rainy days he entertained them with amazing stories, of his own invention. Standing with his back to the big open fire, he would reel off yams full of startling adven- ttire and riotous humor, usually the imaginary ex- ploits of his faithful companion, Dick Stoker, who had cabined with him for many years. He always pretended that these extravagant tales of Stoker were strictly true, and Stoker — "forty-six and gray as a rat" — earnest, thoughtful, and tranquilly serene, would smoke and look into the fire and listen to those astonishing things of himself, srmling a little, but saying never a word. In after years Mark Twain put some of those things into his books, among them the story of Dick Baker's Cat in Roughing It and the Jaybird and Acorn incident of A Tramp Abroad. It was early in December, 1864, that Mark Twain arrived at the Gillis cabin — a humble retreat, built under a great live-oak tree and surrotmded by a stretch of blue grass. It was the rainy season, but on pleasant days they went pocket mining, following some little fanlike drift of gold specks to its source, somewhere up the hillside. Mark Twain added the knowledge of this pursuit to his other sciences and for a few weeks enjoyed its fascinations. He did not make his fortune at it — 'he only laid its comer stone. In January he went with Gillis and Stoker over into Calaveras County and began work near Angel's Camp, a place well known to the readers of Bret Harte. One moonlight night when a drifting cloud brought a mist of rain he saw a wonderful 102 MARK TWAIN FINDS A NUGGET lunax rainbow, a rare sight. He thought it an omen of good fortune. The hotel at Angel's Camp was nothing to boast of. In his old notebook occurs this entry: January 27, 1865 — same old diet — same old weather — ^went out to the pocket claim — ^had to rush back. It was generally raining, which was bad for the romance of pocket mining. The gold seekers spent a good deal of their time around the rusty stove in the dilapidated tavern, telling stories and enjoying the company of another guest, a former Illinois pilot, Ben Coon, a solemn, fat-witted person who dozed most of the time, or woke up to teU dreary and end- less yams to anyone who would Usten. He did not often have an audience; not many came, and few cared to stay. Jim Gillis and Mark Twain, however, regarded Coon as a treasure. It was soothing and comfortable to let him wander on in his dull way, recounting as serious and important history the dull- est trivialities of memory. One somber afternoon, in his slow, monotonous fashion, he told them about a frog — a. frog that belonged to a man named Coleman, who trained it to jimip. He told how the trained frog failed to win a wager because the owner of a rival frog had sur- reptitiously loaded the trained jumper with shot. It was an old story in the camps, but neither Clemens nor Gihis had ever happened to hear it before. They thought the tale itself amusing and Coon's solemn manner of telling it still more so. Later, playing billiards on the frowsy table, one would remark: 103 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN "I don't see no p'ints about that frog that's any better 'n any other frog," and the other would answer : "I 'ain't got no frog, but if I had a frog I'd bet you." Out on the claim, between pails of water, Clemens, as he watched Jim GilUs or Dick Stoker "washing," would be apt to say, "I don't see no p'ints about that pan o' dirt that's any better 'n any other pan o' dirt," and so they kept it up. In his notebook, still preserved, Mark Twain made a brief memo- randum of the frog story, without comment. The mining was rather hopeless work; the con- tinuous showers were discouraging. Mark Twain hated that kind of thing. Even when, one after- noon, certain tiny specks of gold began to appear in the washings, and Jim Gillis became excited at the prospect, Clemens began to protest strenuously as the chilly rain increased. Somewhere up the long slope there was a pocket, no doubt. But it had already waited some millions of years and need not be uncovered on this particular afternoon. Gillis, as usual, was washing, while Clemens carried the water. Gillis, seeing the "color" improving with every pan, was warm and eager, regardless of wet and cold. The miner's passion dominated him. Clemens, shivering and disgusted, swore that each pan of water was his last; his teeth were chattering and he was wet through. Finally he said, in his deliberate way : "Jim, I won't carry any more water. This work is too disagreeable." 104. MARK TWAIN FINDS A NUGGET Gillis had just taken out a panful of dirt. "Bring one more pail, Sam," he pleaded. "Oh, heU! Jim, I won't do it. I am freezing!" "Just one more pail, Sam," Jim pleaded. "No, sir, not a drop, not if I knew there was a million dollars in that pan." Gillis tore out a page of his notebook and hastily- posted a thirty-day claim notice by the pan of dirt ; then they set out for Angel's Camp, never to return. It kept on raining, and a letter arrived from Steve Gillis, saying he had settled all his troubles in San Francisco. Clemens decided to go back, and the miners left Angel's Camp for the cabin on Jackass Hill. Meantime the rain had washed away the top of the pan of dirt left standing on the hillside, exposing a handful of nuggets, pure gold. Two strangers, Austrians, came along, gathered it up, and, seeing the claim notice posted by Jim GUlis, sat down to wait until it expired. They did not mind the rain, not under the circumstances, and the moment the thirty days were up they followed the lead a few pans farther and took out — some say ten, some twenty, thousand dollars. In either case it was a good pocket that Mark Twain missed by one pail of water. StiU, it is just as well, perhaps, when one remembers that more precious nugget of Angel's Camp carried away in Mark Twain's notebook, the story of the Jumping Frog. Jim Gillis always declared: "If Sam had got that pocket, he would have remained a miner, to the end of his days, like me." 8 los XXIII THE JUMPING FROG, AND HAWAII MARK TWAIN did not immediately write the frog story. It would seem that he had no great opinion of its literary value. To him it was just an amusing fancy of which he would sometime make a sketch, neither better nor worse than those already written. Arriving in San Francisco, he found a letter from Artemus Ward asking him to do something for Ward's new book of travels, soon to appear. He thought it too late, as the letter had been waiting for him a good while. He wrote to Ward, however, mentioning the frog story, and received a reply, asking him to write it without delay. He did write it and sent it along, but the book was already in type, and the publisher, Carlton, did not think it worth while to add to new material. He handed the manuscript over to Henry Clapp, editor of the Saturday Press, a dying publication. "Here, Clapp," he said, "is something you can use in your paper." "Jim Smiley and His Jumping Frog" appeared in the Saturday Press of November i8, 1865, and was copied and quoted far and near. The author did not know for some time what had happened. The telegraph then carried very little news of that sort. When at last he heard of the 106 THE JUMPING FROG story's success he was not overpleased by it. He had thought the tale rather poor, and Carlton had not cared to use it. In a letter to his mother he wrote: To think that, after writing many an article a man might be excused for thinJdng tolerably good, those New York people should single out a villainous backwoods sketch to compliment me on! — "Jim Smiley and His Jumping Frog" — a squib which would never have been written but to please Artemus Ward. A New York correspondent of the San Francisco Alia wrote, "Mark Twain's story in the Saturday Press of November i8th, called 'Jim Smiley and His Jumping Frog,' has set all New York in a roar." Whether the tale of the Jumping Frog, if it were new to-day, would "set all New York in a roar" is by no means certain. Its humor isfundamental and the quaint simplicity of its telling is full of charm. We were a smaller, simpler people in that day, with a vast appreciation of the comic and not so many opportunities for showing it. Mark Twain's own opinion of it improved when he heafd that James Russell Lowell pronounced it the finest piece of humorous writing yet produced in America. He appears, however, not to have followed it up. He restuned his Enterprise letters and did an oc- casional sketch, but he made no sustained literary effort. He received an invitation to join a select party of guests on the fine new steamer Ajax, botmd for Honolulu; but decUned it, much to his later regret. This, however, gave him a new idea: he proposed to the publishers of the Sacramento Union that they send him to the islands, to do a series of 107 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN letters reporting general conditions there. To his delight they gave him the commission. He sailed March 7, 1866, arriving at Honolulu eleven days later, remaining in the islands four months — a won- derful golden experience which he always hoped some day to repeat. In Roughing It Mark Twain gives us a picture of the Sandwich Islands and a fairly correct history of his adventures there. He fitted in with the peaceful life of that halcyon land, and was everywhere wel- comed. Yotmg and eager for adventure, he traveled widely on horseback and afoot — saw everything, did everything, and wrote it all for his paper. He was an insatiable sightseer, and a persevering one. His open-air life on the river and in the mining camp had nerved and hardened him for adventures. In Mark Twain's scheme of life the right things seemed to come to him at the right time. About the end of June he retiimed from a tour of all the islands, fairly worn out, and prostrated with saddle boils. Just at this time the steamer Ajax arrived again, bringing His Excellency Anson Biu-lingame, lately appointed minister to China. Burlingame, on the way to his post, had with him his son Edward, a lively boy of eighteen, also General van Valken- burg, minister to Japan. Young Burlingame had read about Jim Smiley and the Jumping Frog, and was a Mark Twain enthusiast. Learning that the author was in Honolulu, laid up at his hotel, the party sent word that they would call on him next morning. Sick as he was, Clemens felt that he could not accept this honor. He crawled out of bed. 108 THE JUMPING FROG dressed and shaved himself, and drove to the home of the American minister, where the party was staying. They had a hilariously good time. On breaking up, General van VaJkenburg said to him: "California is proud of Mark Twain, and some day the American people will be, too, no doubt." An important event in Mark Twain's career was even then imminent. On that very day, June 21, 1866, there came word of the arrival on one of the islands of an open boat containing fifteen starving sailors who had battled a stormy sea for forty-three days. They were from the Hornet, that early in May had taken fire on the line and burned to the water's edge. Presently eleven of the rescued men were brought to Honolulu and placed in the hos- pital. Mark Twain recognized the great news im- portance of this event. There was no cable, but a vessel for San Francisco would sail next morning. It was the opportunity of a lifetime; but to get the interviews and prepare the copy seemed beyond his strength. At this critical moment the entire Burlingame party descended upon him, and a few moments later he was on the way to the hospital, on a cot, escorted by the heads of the joint legations of China and Japan. Arriving there, Anson Burlingame, with his gentle manner and courtly presence, drew from those enfeebled castaways all the story of the burn- ing vessel, their long privation and struggles that had stretched across forty-three distempered days and four thousand miles of tossing sea. Mark Twain only had to listen and make the notes. He 109 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN put in the night writing against time. Next morn- ing, when the vessel was already drifting from the dock, a strong, accurate hand flung his bulky manu- script aboard and his great beat was sure. The three-column story on the front page of the Sacra- mento Union, July 19, 1866, gave the public its first story of the great disaster. Samuel Clemens never ceased to love and honor Anson Burlingame. He had another reason in addition to the one named. Burlingame one day said to him: "You have great ability; I beUeve you have genius. What you need now is the refinement of 'association. Seek companionship of superior intel- lect and character. Refine yourself and your work. Never affiliate with inferiors; always climb," To Mark Twain, advice like that coming from a man of Burlingame's endowments was a gospel which he would never forget. Burlingame en- couraged him to travel — to visit him in Peking. He promised him letters of introduction and facilities in acquiring information about China. It is easy to understand that Mark Twain never felt his debt to Anson Burlingame entirely paid. Clemens now returned to San Francisco, but the place no longer had any charm for him. Something had happened to him; he hardly knew what. In his notebook he wrote: August 13, home again. No — not home again — in prison again, and all the wild sense of freedom gone. The city seems so cramped and so dreary with toil and care and business anxiety. God help me, I wish I were at sea again! no THE JUMPING FROG When they asked him at the office of the Sacra- mento Union what rate he wanted for the Hornet report, he said: "Oh, I am a modest man; I don't want the whole Union office. Call it a hundred dollars a column.", The proprietors laughed, but the biU was made out at that figure. Many years afterward Mark Twain wrote: The cashier didn't faint, but he came rather near it. He sent for the proprietors, and they only laughed in their jolly fashion, and said it was a robbery, but no matter, pay it. It's all right. The best men that ever owned a newspaper. Mark Twain's Sandwich Island letters, though inferior to the descriptive writing which a year later would give him worldwide fame, exactly suited the public for which they were intended, and added greatly to his prestige on the Pacific coast. They were not brilliant literature, by the standards of to-day, and he used only a trifling part of them in his Sandwich Island chapters of Roughing It, five years later. They do, however, reveal a sort of transition from his riotous manner of the Comstock to the mellowness of his later style. XXIV MARK TWAIN, LECTURER TT was not easy to take up the struggle again, but '^ it was necessary. Clemens considered a variety of possibilities. One of these was to prepare a Hornet article for Harper's Magazine. He carried this plan into effect, and its prompt acceptance pleased him mightily. He thought he had taken a step in the direction of fame. His dream was shat- tered, however, when the article appeared, for the printer and proof reader had somehow converted his signature into "Mark Swain," a sad blow. He had intended to follow it up with a series on the islands; he now dismissed this project. Another plan was to deliver a Hawaiian lecture, but he trembled at the very thought. His Third House speech of two years before had been a success; that, however, had been given for a benefit, and on a subject which concerned the personality of hid hearers. To offer himself as an entertainer for his own profit was quite a different matter. He con- fided his situation to a friend. Col. John McComb, of the Alta California, and was startled by his reply. "Do it by all means," urged McComb. "It will be a grand success — I know it! Take the largest house in town and charge a dollar a ticket." Under that vigorous stimulus Clemens hurried to 112 MARK TWAIN. LECTURER the manager of the Academy of Music and engaged it for October 2d (1866). He knew the manager and obtained the house at half rates. He now sat down and prepared an advertisement, characteristically absurd, ending with the announcement: Doors open at 7 o'clock. The trouble to begin at 8 o'clock. Mark Twain said afterward that "trouble" was the right word, at least in the beginning. He was known in San Francisco, and pretty sure to have a good house. He did not realize this, and as the evening approached his dread of failure increased. He has told us the story himself in Roughing It, and we need recall only a few of the details here. Enter- ing by the stage door, the place seemed to him ominously silent; he had the feeling that it must be empty. Then from his concealment he stole a look and saw that it was packed. This was even worse. Sidling out from the wings, wabbly-kneed and dry of tongue, he was greeted by a murmur, a roar, a very crash of applause that frightened away his remaining courage. Then came reaction — these were his friends and he began to talk to them. Fear melted away, and as the applause came in great waves that rose ever higher he knew something of the exultation of Monte Cristo when he declared, "The world is mine!" It was a genuine triumph; his friends declared that no such lecture had ever been delivered. They praised his eloquence and humor to the skies. The morning papers caUed him "the most piquant and humorous writer and lecturer on the Coast, since the "3 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN days of the lamented John Phoenix." Fragments of the lecture still remain, and show a literary value much higher than any portion of his Hawaiian letters. It is notable that he advocated American ownership of the island, dwelling at considerable length on his reasons for this idea. Mark Twain no longer hesitated as to immediate plans. He engaged Denis McCarthy, late of the Enterprise, as his manager, and they laid out a tour of the near-by towns in CaHfomia, extending it to Carson City, Virginia City, and Gold Hill. It proved a happy excursion. Success traveled with them, whether the lecturer looked across the foot- lights of some pretentious "Opera House" or be- tween the tallow candles of some camp "Academy." Those who remember Mark Twain's lectures of that day say that his delivery was more quaint, his drawl even more exaggerated, than in later life. They describe his movements as "natural rather than graceful," and recall that his manuscript, which he earned under his arm, looked like a ruffled hen. Following custom, the lecturer at first thought it necessary to be introduced, and at each place Mc- Carthy had to skirmish around and find the proper person. Some amusing incidents happened in this connection. Once Denis went down into the audi- ence and captured an old miner, who ducked and dodged, but could not escape. When he managed to reach the stage he said: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the celebrated Mark Twain, from the celebrated city of San Fran.- 114 MARK TWAIN, LECTURER CISCO, with his celebrated lecture about the cele- brated Sandwich Islands." Mark Twain never had a better introduction. The audience was in a shouting humor from the start. At one place a showman wanted to combine with him. "Look here," he said, "I'll let my wife do the tight-rope act outside, and draw a crowd, while you go inside and lecture." Arriving at Virginia City, he met his old friend Joe Goodman; also Steve GiUis, who by this time was back on the Enterprise. Mark Twain had a fine audience in Virginia City, and another at Gold HiU, a few evenings later. Gold Hill was only a little way from Virginia City and Steve GiUis planned a great joke, to be played when the lecturer and his agent should come walking back by the lonely street that lay between the towns. The joke this time was nothing less than highway robbery, and was duly carried into effect. Denis himself was made party to it, and with Mark Twain was duly held up by masked robbers, halfway between Gold HiUrand Virginia City, and relieved of money, watches, and other personal effects. The story is too long to tell here in detail,^ but Mark Twain was pretty wrathful when he discovered that GilHs and McCarthy were responsible for the mock robbery. Goodman finally pacified him, but he said: "Well, Joe, I'll let it pass — this time; I'll forgive ' It will be found in full in Mark Twain — A Biography, by the same author. IIS A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN them again; I've had to do it so many times; but if / should see Denis McCarthy and Steve Gtllis mounting the scaffold to-morrow, and I cotdd save them by turning over my hand, I wouldn't do it. " The financial return from the lecture tour was considerable. San Francisco alone had paid him several hundred dollars, and the smaller places accordingly. "What kind of a trip did you boys have?" a friend asked, upon the return of Denis and Clemens to San Francisco. Clemens, just recovering from a cold, contracted the night of the robbery, smiled grimly: "Oh, pretty good, only Denis here mistook it for a spree." Having money, now, Mark Twain decided to visit his people as the first step in a journey which he meant to continue around the world. A commission from the Alta California, to send them letters, would help to defray his expenses and he was full of the prospect. He had been absent five and a half years — eventful, adventurous years that had made htm over completely. XXV THE WANDERER RETURNS T TE returned by water — sailing from San Fran- * •^ Cisco by the way of Nicaragua. In New York Clemens found Charles Henry Webb, who had, put together a number of the Mark Twain sketches, including the "Jumping Frog," for book publication. Clemens himself took the manuscript to Carlton, who, it may be remembered, had turned the frog story over to the Saturday Press. But Carlton did not want any more books, just then. Even the fame of the frog of Calaveras did not con- vince him. Twenty-one years later, in Switzer- land, he said to Mark Twain: "My chief claim to immortality is the distinction of having declined your first book." Webb immediately set about publishing the book himself, and Clemens was sooia with his mother and sister in St. Louis. They thought the five years had told on him. Jane Clemens joked him, scolded him, and inquired searchingly into his habits. In turn he petted, comforted, and teased her. He was the same Sam, she said, and always would be. He made a trip to Hannibal, lectured there, and received a welcome that would have satisfied even Tom Sawyer. It was the same in Keokuk, after which he returned to St. Louis to plan his trip around the world. 117 A SHORT LIFE OP MARK TWAIN But one day there he saw an announcement of the Quaker City Holy Land excursion and was car- ried away with the new idea in ocean travel. He made up his mind to join that splendid picnic to the shores of the Mediterranean. His projected trip around the world seemed tame beside it. The company was to be a distinguished one. Anson Burlingame had told him to associate with persons of refinement and intellect. He at once wrote to the Alta, proposing that they send him as their correspondent. The fare was twelve hundred dollars and the Alta hesitated, but Col. John McComb, of that paper, insisted that the investment would be sound. The proposition wag accepted, and Clemens, hurrying to New York, was met by the manager of the Alta Bureau in that city, with a telegram saying: "Ship Mark Twain in Holy Land excursion and pay his passage." Clemens had read that all applicants must be vouched for as being proper persons to go in such distinguished company, and he had grave fears as to his acceptance. The Alta had appUed for his passage, but that was all he knew. He went to the shipping oflSce to see about it, and while waiting for attention heard a newspaper man inquire: "What notables are going?" A clerk with evident pride rattled off the names : "Lieutenant - General Sherman, Henry Ward Beecher, and Mark Twain." Which relieved his mind on that point. He was not only accepted, but ii8 THE WANDERER RETURNS starred as an attraction. It was his first taste of fame on the Atlantic coast. The Quaker City would not sail for two months yet, during which time Mark Twain was fairly busy. He wrote a number of letters to the Alta; his book, The Jumping Frog and Other Sketches appeared, and he delivered a Sandwich Island lecture at Cooper Union. He was at this time distinctly in the hands of his friends. Charles Henry Webb published his book, and Frank Fuller, who, as acting Governor of Utah, had known Mark Twain on the Comstock, arranged for the lecture. The book appeared on the ist of May, 1867. The author had no great faith in it, though he seems to have been rather pleased with its appearance. To Bret Harte he wrote: The book is out and it is handsome. It is full of damnable errors of grammar and deadly inconsistencies of spelling in the Frog Sketch, because I was away and did not read proofs; but be a friend and say nothing about these things. When my hurry is over, I will send you a copy to pisen the children with. The little cloth-and-gold volume, so valued by collectors to-day, contained the frog story and twenty-six other sketches, some of which are still preserved in Mark Twain's collected works. Most of them are not his best literature, but they are fresh and readable and suited to the taste of that period. The book sold very well, and while it did not bring either fame or fortune to its author, it was by no means a failure. The lecture was also, in its way, a success — • certainly a dramatic one. Clemens had little faith 119 A SHORT LIFE OP MARK TWAIN in the project, knowing that his public in New York must be a very limited one. Puller, however, was overflowing with enthusiasm and full of plans for disposing of the tickets. One of his schemes was a lot of little handbills hung in btmches in the street cars. The dangling clusters fascinated Mark Twain, and he haunted the cars to see if anybody else no- ticed them. Pinally, after a long time, a passenger pulled off one of the tiny bills and glanced at it. A man with him asked : "Who's Mark Twain?" His companion answered : "God knows. I don't." The lecturer could not ride any farther. He hunted up his patron. "Puller," he groaned, "there isn't a sign — a ripple of interest." Puller assured him that everything was working all right — "working underneath," FuUer said. But the lecturer was without hope. He wrote home: Ever3rthiiig looks shady, at least, if not dark After we have hired the Cooper Institute and gone to an expense in one way or another of five hundred dollars, it comes out that I have got to play against Speaker Colfax at Irving Hall, Ristori, and also the double troupe of Japanese jugglers. He forgot to mention that the "Black Crook" was at Niblo's and that the city was filled with other attractions. New York was not inexhaustible in those days; these things could gather in the public to the last man. When the day of the lecture was near and only a few tickets had been sold, Clemens was desperate. "Puller," he said, "there'll be nobody in Cooper I20 THE WANDERER RETURNS Union that night but you and me. I am on the verge of suicide. I would commit stiicide if I had the pluck and the outfit. You must paper the house, Fuller. You must send out a flood of complimentaries." "Very well," said Fuller. "What we want this time is reputation, anyway — ^money is secondary. I'll put you before the choicest and most intelligent audience that was ever gathered in New York City." Fuller immediately sent out complimentary tickets to the school-teachers of New York and Brooklyn, to come free and hear Mark Twain's great lecture on Kanakadom. This was within forty -eight hours of the time he was to appear. The lecturer had lost faith — ^he doubted that anybody would come to hear him, even on a free ticket. When the night arrived he drove with Fuller to Cooper Union half an hour before the lecture was to begin. Forty years later he said: "I couldn't keep away. I wanted to see that vast mammoth cave and die. But when we got near the building I saw all the streets were blocked with people and that traffic had stopped. I couldn't believe that aU these people were trying to get to the Cooper Institute — but they were; and when I got to the stage, at last, the house was jammed full — • packed; there wasn't room enough left for a child. "I was happy, and I was excited beyond expres- sion. I poured the Sandwich Islands out on those people, and they laughed and shouted to my entire content. For an hour and fifteen minutes I was in Paradise." A delegation of Califomians was in the audience 9 121 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN and welcomed the lecturer with a yell. Senator Nye of Nevada was to have been there to introduce him, but failed to appear. Mark Twain introduced himself with some choice ridicule of the absent one. That pleased everybody and made the Californians fairly scream with delight. After that came the lecture. The first sentence captured the audience, which from that moment to the end was either in a roar of laughter or held breathless by his descrip- tive passages. It was said that people were posi- tively sick from laughing at that lecture. So it was a success, even if not a financial one. Mark Twain always felt grateful to the school- teachers for that night, and many years later, when they asked him to read to them at Steinway Hall, he gave his services without charge. The cash returns from the lecture did not equal the expenses. But FuUer insisted on making good the shortage. That was Fuller's regal way. His own return lay in the joy of the game and the winning of a larger stake for a friend. The papers spoke well of the lecture, and those who heard it spread its fame far and wide. "Mark," said FuEer, "it's all right; the fortune didn't come, but it will. The fame has arrived. With this lecture, and your book just out, you are going to be the most-talked-of man in the country. Your letters for the Alta and the Tribune will get the widest reception of any letters of travel ever written." In spite of his various successes and prospects, Samuel Clemens would seemed to have been rather low in his mind at this period. The Quaker City 122 THE WANDERER RETURNS was to sail June 8th. On the eve of departure he wrote his mother: My mind is stored full of unworthy conduct toward Orion and toward you all, and an accusing conscience gives me peace only in excitement and restless moving from place to place. If I could only say, I had done one thing for any of you that entitled me to your good opinions (I say nothing of your love, for I am sure of that, no matter how unworthy of it I may make myself — from Orion down, you have always given me that, all the days of my life, when God Almighty knows I have seldom deserved it), I believe I could go home and stay there — and I know I would care little for the world's praise or blame. He Spoke of the Alta letters as "the stupidest ever written from New York," declaring that corre- spondence had been a perfect drag. "If it continues abroad, I don't know what the Tribune and Alta folk will think." And somewhat farther along, "You observe that under a cheerful exterior I have got a spirit that is angry with me and gives me freely its contempt." Mark Twain always had these periods of depres- sion, and doubtless the reflection that in his thirty- second year he was still without a settled profession or anchorage contributed to his mental unrest. In. spite of Fuller's prophecy, we may believe he did not dream that the day of a great new beginning was at hand. XXVI THE "QUAKER CITY" EXCURSION TT was a rainy afternoon when the Quaker City left ^ the dock on that first great ocean picnic. Indeed, the weather was too rough to venture outside with a lot of excursionists most of whom had never been to sea. So the vessel dropped down the harbor and anchored overnight, sailing next morning to lands bei^ond the sunrise. In The Innocents Abroad Mark Twain has told us the story of it all, and there is something dreamlike and beautiful about the tale of that long ago ocean gypsying that has never been matched in any other book of travel. Thousands of later wanderers have followed in the footsteps of that happy party, hoping to find the same Ughtsome- ness of adventure, the same bloom and romance ; and a few, maybe, have found it. But if they did it was because, like Mark Twain and his companions, Jack, Dan, and the Doctor, they carried it with them. Most of the distinguished personages announced for the party did not go, but there were plenty of con- genial spirits, and the little group that collected around Mark Twain and traveled with him through France, Italy, and Greece, and across the baking hills of Judea, created realms of their own, and it is of these delectable lands that we read in The Innocents Abroad. "Dan" was Dan Slote, Mark 124 THE "QUAKER CITY" EXCURSION Twain's room-mate ; the ' ' Doctor ' ' was Dr. A. Reeves Jackson, of Chicago; "Jack" was Jack Van Nos- trand, of New Jersey; "Charlie" was Charles A. Langdon, of Elmira, New York, a boy of eighteen, whose sister would one day become Mark Twain's wife. There were other pleasant people on the ship. There was the "Poet Lariat," who in real life was Bloodgood H. Cutter, a gentle eccentric from Long Island, and there was especially one middle-aged, intellectual, motherly soul — ^Mrs. A. W. Fairbanks, of Cleveland, who looked after the general welfare of the few young members of the party. She was herself literary — a correspondent for her husband's paper, the Cleveland Herald — and she took an imme- diate interest in Samuel Clemens and his work. She encouraged him to read his letters aloud to her, offered suggestions for their refinement, gave him, in fact, precisely what he needed at this period — the uplifting association and example recommended by Anson BurUngame. Mrs. Fairbanks made up a little group to hear the letters and comment on them. Nothing could be better for their quality than that. There is the greatest difference between the style of those first Quaker City letters and any- thing he had previously written; we may believe that in a large measure it was due to his wise friend and counseler. They were not a big party on the Quaker City. They numbered only sixty-seven, for their little vessel had only an eighteen-hundred-ton register, though a good enough ship, and sizable for her time. 125 A SHORT LIFE OP MARK TWAIN A party such as that becomes presently like a big family, their affairs known to one another, their in- terests mutual. It is quite certain that no such other party ever went to sea for so long a voyage as that first little band of ocean wanderers. The Innocents Abroad is very good history. The notes were made on the spot ; the letters from which it was compiled were written when the incidents were fresh in the writer's mind. Mark Twain's idea of descriptive travel in those days was to tell the story as it happened. We may believe that the adventures with Jack, Dan, and the Doctor are elaborated here and there, but most of them hap- pened substantially as recorded. The old notebooks of the trip have survived, and it is curious to look through them to-day, trying to reaHze that these penciled memoranda were to grow into the world's most delightful book of travel. They were set down in the very midst of that care- free little company that frolicked through Italy and toiled wearily from Beirut to the shores of the Dead Sea, continuing still southward tmtil they stood at last before the Sphinx, impressed and awed by its "five thousand slow-revolving years." There is an incident of the Quaker City trip that finds no mention in The Innocents Abroad — the beginning of the author's life romance. Reference had already been made to young Charles Langdon, who was one of Mark Twain's admirers on the ship. The boy often invited Samuel Clemens to his stateroom, and on one of these occasions exhibited his treasures, including a dainty miniattire of his 126 MARK TWAIN, 1 867 THE STEAMSHIP " QUAKER CITY " (on which the Inuoccnis made their famous journey) CHARLES J. LANGDON IN 1867 OLIVIA LANGDON, I867 (from the original miniature) THE "QUAKER CITY" EXCURSION sister Olivia, whose sweet and spiritual face made a deep impression on the older man. He looked at it with long admiration, spoke of it reverently, and each time he came, after that, asked to be allowed to see it. In his mind he dreamed he would one day meet the owner of that lovely face; he obtained from young Langdon a promise to invite him to the Eknira home. The Quaker City returned to America November 19, 1867, after an absence of more than five months, and Mark Twain found himself, if not famous, at least in very wide repute. The fifty-three letters sent to the Alta and the half-dozen to the New York Tribune had carried his celebrity into every corner of the states and territories. Vivid, fearless, full of fresh color, humor, poetry, they came as a revela- tion to a public weary of the driveling, piety-mouth- ing letters of that period. They preached a new gospel in travel literature; the gospel of truth — ^of according praise to whatever seemed genuine, and ridicule to the things considered sham. It was the gospel that Mark Twain would continue to preach during the rest of his career. It became his chief literary message to the world — a world waiting for that message. XXVII A TIME OF GREAT BEGINNINGS ARRIVING in New York, Clemens proceeded *■ directly to Washington. He had agreed to accept a secretarial position with Senator Stewart of Nevada, believing that this would give him an assured income, with considerable leisure for his literary work. He had no need of such a position. Scarcely had he landed in America when he received invitations to lecture, at good prices, and to con- tribute articles to the newspapers and magazines. His connection with Stewart soon came to an end. About a week following his arrival in Washington the traveler received a letter which marked the be- ginning of one of the most notable publishing con- nections in American literary history. The letter was from Elisha Bliss, secretary of the American Publishing Company, of Hartford. Bliss proposed that Mark Twain collect his travel letters in a book, which the company would sell by subscription. He called attention to the fact that they had sold a number of books in that way, including one by A. D. Richardson, entitled The Field, the Dungeon, and the Escape, of which a hundred thousand copies had been distributed. The proposition exactly fitted in with Mark Twain's plans. He replied at once, expressing him- 128 A TIME OF GREAT BEGINNINGS self as agreeable to the idea, and inquiring as to terms. In the end he went to Hartford, and con- cluded an arrangement with Bliss by which he was to have five per cent royalty, a larger percentage than they were in the habit of paying on a sub- scription book. They had proposed a lump stun of ten thousand dollars, a great temptation, but by the advice of Richardson, and of Henry Ward Beecher, whose acquaintance Clemens made about this time, he closed on the royalty basis — "the best business judgment I ever displayed," he declared in later years. This was near the end of January, 1868. Meantime, something of even greater importance had happened. Late in December Samuel Clemens had oome over from Washington to New York, to visit his old shipmate, Dan Slote, who gathered at his house Jack Van Nostrand, CharUe Langdon, and others of the "pilgrims." They had a riotous re- union, and an evening or two later young Langdon invited his distinguished Quaker City shipmate to meet his father and sister, who had arrived from Elmira and were stopping at the St. Nicholas Hotel. We may believe that Samuel Clemens went very willingly. The lovely face of the miniature, which he had first seen that day in the Bay of Smyrna, had become a part of his daydreams. For the first time now he looked upon the reality. Long afterward he said: "It is forty years ago. From that day to this she has never been out of my mind." Charles Dickens gave a reading that night at Steinway Hall. The Langdons went, and invited 129 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN their guest. Clemens recalled afterward that Dick- ens wore a black-velvet coat with a fiery-red flower in his buttonhole, and that he gave the storm scene from Copperfield — the death of James Steerforth. But he remembered still more clearly the face and dress of the slender, girlish figure at his own side. Olivia Langdon at this time was twenty-two years old, rare and lovely as the miniature he had seen. The young girl was at first dazed and fascinated, rather than attracted, by this astonishing creature, so unlike anyone she had ever known. To her brother, eager for her approval of his celebrity, she later conceded admiration. As for her father, he did not qualify his opinion. With a hearty sense of humor and a keen perception of sincerity in men, Jervis Langdon accepted Samuel Clemens from the start and re- mained his stanch admirer and friend. Clemens saw Miss Langdon again within the week. On New Year's Day he set forth to pay calls, after the fashion of the time — more lavish in its observance than now. Miss Langdon was receiving with a niece of Henry Ward Beecher at the home of a friend. Clemens and young Langdon decided to make this their first call. They arrived at eleven o'clock in the morning and did not leave until midnight. Acquaintance ripens during such a visit. Mark Twain returned to Washington, to his newspaper correspondence, and to begin the com- pilation of his book of travel. But then he received word from Joe Goodman that the AUa had copy- righted the Quaker City letters and proposed to bring them out in book form. Clemens confirmed this by 130 A TIME OF GREAT BEGINNINGS telegraph, and immediately prepared to sail for San Francisco, to take up the matter with them in per- son. He did not delay his going. He sailed on the Henry Chauncey, arriving in San Francisco in April. Matters in San Francisco turned out as he had hoped. Colonel McComb remained his friend ; Mc- Crellish and Woodward, the proprietors, agreed that they had already received good value for the money paid. The author offered to make proper acknowl- edgments to the Alta in his preface, and the matter was settled with friendliness all around. On the 5th of May Clemens wrote to Bliss that he was progressing steadily with his manuscript, and ex- pected to start East with it about the middle of June. He also wrote: I lectured here on the trip [the Quaker City excursion] the other night; Over $1600 in gold in the house; every seat taken and paid for before night. His old friend Bret Harte had also leaped into fame. He had become editor of the Overland Monthly and his "Luck of Roaring Camp" and "Outcasts of Poker Flat," published in that maga- zine, were making a great stir in the East. Mark Twain now concluded to cover his lecture circuit of two years before. He needed the money, and friends urged him to make the venture. The tour was a grand success. He closed it with a second lecture in San Francisco, an event announced with his customary droUery. On his bill he made it appear that the citizens of San Francisco had pro- tested against his lecturing again and were insisting 131 A SHORT LIFE OP MARK TWAIN upon his return to New York. This he followed with the statement: I will torment the people if I want to. . . . It only costs them $1 apiece, and if they can't stand it what do they stay here for? Below this he printed other protests — one as coming from the clergy; also, the following: You had better go. Yours, CHiEr or Police. Mark Twain's farewell address, given at the Mer- cantile Library, July 2, 1868, remains to-day one of the foremost literary and social events in San Fran- cisco's history. Four days later he sailed on the steamer Montana to Acapulco, caught the Henry Chauncey at Aspinwall, reached New York on the 28th, and that day or the next delivered his manu- script into Bliss's hands. He now heard some news: Bliss's directors, mostly of orthodox persuasion, had registered ob- jections to the proposed book, which they believed was not likely to deal kindly with certain religious traditions. Bliss had promptly proposed to resign and publish the book himself — an alarming sugges- tion to the stockholders. Under his management the company had paid dividends — a boon altogether too rare in its previous history. The objectors had retired, to be heard of no more. XXVIII A VISIT TO ELMIRA OBTAINING a renewal of the invitation to visit the Langdon home, Samuel Clemens now set out for Elmira, and during a happy week enjoyed the hospitality of a charming household and es- pecially the association of Olivia Langdon — Livy, as they called her. As yet, he had spoken no word of his love to the object of it, intending first to take her relatives into his confidence. When the day for his departure arrived he unbosomed himself to Charlie Langdon, much to the latter's alarm. The young man had the greatest admiration for the gifted author, but he did not welcome the idea of this eccentric soldier of letters becoming the life companion of his sister, whom he regarded as little less than a saint. Mark Twain had planned to go by an evening train, but the young man suggested something more immediate. "Look here, Clemens," he said, when he recovered a little, "there is a train in half an hour; I'll help you to catch it. Don't wait tiU to-night; go now." The other shook his head. "No, Charlie," he said, in his gentle drawl, "I want to enjoy yovu- hospitality a little longer. I promise to be circumspect and I'll go to-night." Pate always took care of Mark Twain. That 133 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN night after dinner a light two-seated wagon was at the gate, ready for the departing guest. Clemens and young Langdon occupied the rear seat, which for some reason had not been locked in its place. When the horse started, with a quick forward movement, it flew backward, and both passengers, describing an arc, came down with some force on the cobbled street. They were not hurt, only dazed a little, but in the instant of recovery Mark Twain had an inspiration. When the Langdon family sur- rotxnded them he rose very feebly and had to be sup- ported to the house and into an armchair. Reme- dies were hastily applied; Olivia Langdon showed special anxiety and attention. Of course he was not allowed to go, now. He must remain until his recovery was assured. He was still there two weeks later, after which he made a trip to Cleveland to confide to Mrs. Fairbanks that he expected to win Livy Langdon for his wife. Returning to Hartford to look after the progress of his book, he met for the first time the Rev. Joseph Hopkins Twichell, a man about his own age, ath- letic aftd handsome, pastor of the Asylum HiU Con- gregational Church. Twichell was a man of great probity and benevolence, with a deep human under- standing and an exuberant sense of humor. Men- tion has already been made of the fact that, however wide apart in preaching or practice, ministers always got on well with Mark Twain. He and Twichell became friends from the first moment of their meeting, and remained so through life. Hartford had a distinguished literary circle in 134 A VISIT TO ELMIRA those days, among its members, Charles Dudley Warner and Harriet Beecher Stowe. Twichell in- troduced him freely and Clemens would wUlingly have remained in that congenial atmosphere. Business reasons made this impossible. James Redpath, of the Boston Lyceum Bureau, offered him engagements for his new lecture, "The Vandal Abroad," and he was presently earning a hundred dollars or more a night and making most of the nights cotmt. This was real affluence. He coidd help his mother lavishly, now, and he did it. Some of his engagements were in central New York, not far from Elmira. He had a standing in- vitation to the Langdon home, and quite often made it convenient to be there, especially for the week-end. His courtship was not an unruffled one. When at last he reached the point of proposing for the daugh- ter of the house the encouragement he received lacked enthusiasm. Jervis Langdon admired him exceedingly; but annexing that vivid, volatile per- sonality to the family was quite another matter. Clemens went to Cleveland to lecture and confided his troubles to Mrs. Fairbanks, who gave him com- fort. It happened that in Cleveland he had a splendid success, and his friend saw that the news of it traveled quickly to Elmira. The Cleveland papers referred to him as a "Lion" and the "coming man of the age." Two days later, in Pittsburgh, he "played" against Fanny Kemble, the favorite actress of that time, with the restdt that Miss Kemble had an audience of two hundred against nearly ten times that number who gathered to hear Mark 135 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN Twain. On the second morning following, when the Langdon family were gathered at breakfast, a bushy, auburn head was poked fearfully in at the door and a low, humble voice said: "The calf has rettimed. May the prodigal have some breakfast?" No one could long resist a person like that. In truth, the Langdon household had somehow grown to feel that he belonged to them. Theodore Crane, who had married the elder Langdon daughter, was a stanch admirer of Livy's suitor. As for the mother and sister, whatever was her wish was theirs. There was only a provisional engagement at first. It was agreed between Samuel Clemens and Jervis Langdon that letters should be sent by Mr. Langdon to those who had known his would-be son- in-law, with inquiries concerning his earlier life. Mark Twain confidently enough gave him the names of some San Francisco ministers with whom he had been on excellent terms. He also suggested that Mr. Langdon write to Joe Goodman, if he wanted to, but added that, as he had lied for Goodman a hundred times, Goodman in return would lie for him, if necessary, so his testimony would be of no value. The letters were written, and as it would take a good while to receive the replies the lecturer had time to make a tour, which carried him as far west as Chicago and gave him an opportunity to tell the great news to his mother in St. Louis. Promptly upon his return he sought an interview with his prospective father-in-law. Mr. Langdon had rather a solemn look. Clemens asked: 136 A VISIT TO ELMIRA "You've heard from those gentlemen out there?" "Yes, and from another gentleman I wrote concerning you." "They don't appear to have been very enthu- siastic, from your manner." "Well, yes, some of them were." "I suppose I may ask what particular form their emotion took." "Oh yes, yes! They agree unanimously that you are a brilliant, able man — a man with a future, and that you would make about the worst husband on record." The applicant had a forlorn look. "There is nothing very evasive about that, is there?" Langdon reflected. "Haven't you any other friend that you could suggest?" "Apparently none whose testimony would be valuable." Jervis Langdon held out his hand. "You have at least one," he said. "I believe in you. I know you better than they do." The engagement of Samuel Langhome Clemens and Olivia Lewis Langdon was ratified next day, February 4, 1869. 10 XXIX A NEW BOOK, A NEW PAPER, AND A WEDDING MARK TWAIN closed his lecture tour in March and went immediately to Elmira. He had earned something like eight thousand dollars, not a bad return for a first season on the circuit. Final proofs of his book were coming now from Bliss, and he and Livy Langdon read them together. He realized presently that she had both literary per- ception and refined tastes. She became, in fact, his editor, during those happy courtship days — a posi- tion she held until her death. The world owes a large debt of gratitude to Mark Twain's wife, who from the very beginning — and always, so far as in her strength she was able— inspired him to give only his worthiest to the world. That refining influence counseled by Anson Burlingame, and for a time en- joyed in the society of Mrs. Fairbanks on the Quaker City, Olivia Langdon now contributed in full measure. In a letter to Bliss we get the first hint of the title of the new book, which was to be: THE INNOCENTS ABROAD OR THE NEW PILGRIM'S PROGRESS It was to have been issued in the spring, but it was not until the early part of June that the last 138 A NEW BOOK AND A WEDDING chapters were revised and returned. The first edi- tion was to be twenty thousand, a large number for any book of travel, even to-day. On July 20, 1869, the first copy was ready. By August the deliveries were in ftdl swing. It was a success from the start. More than five thousand copies were disposed of in August, and thirty-one thousand had been sold by the first of the year. If Mark Twain was not already famous, he became unquestionably so now. Newspapers cho- rused their enthusiasm. The public acclaimed him as the greatest humorist of the age. It is curious to reflect that Samuel Qlemens still did not regard himself as a literary man. It would seem at this time that he did not even contemplate the publication of another book. His thought was to own a paper, to settle himself in journalism. He contemplated the purchase of an interest in the Cleveland Herald, but then an opportunity came to acquire a third ownership in the Buffalo Express. Buffalo was nearer to Elmira, and Mr. Langdon, anxious that this purchase should be concluded, provided a part of the funds. The new editor en- tered upon his duties in August, and in the issue of August 1 8th published a salutatory, in the course of which he said: Being a stranger, it would be immodest for me to suddenly and violently assume the associate editorship of the Buffalo Express without a single word of comfort or encouragement to the unoffending patrons of the paper, who are about to be ex- posed to constant attacks of my wisdom and learning. ... I am not going to hurt the paper deliberately and intentionally at any time. I am not going to introduce any startling reforms 139 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN nor in any way attempt to maJ^e trouble. ... I shall not often meddle with politics, because we have a political editor who is already excellent and only needs to serve a term or two in the penitentiary to be perfect. He did not at once, however, settle down to editorial work. His wedding day had been set for early in the year and he had agreed with Redpath to cover the lecture circuit during the winter. Red- path's lyceum headquarters were in Boston, and Clemens made his headquarters there, along with such congenial spirits as Josh BilHngs (Henry W. Shaw) and Petroletim V. Nasby (David R. Locke), popular lecturers of that day. It was during this period that he met, one day, in the office of the Atlantic Monthly, William Dean Howells, at that time its assistant editor. Howells had read The Innocents Abroad with enjoyment, though perhaps with some slight reservations, for he was not then fully emancipated as to some of its heresies. He also found the personality of Mark Twain, for the moment, just a bit startling. Yet the two men were drawn to each other almost from the begin- ning, and in a little while were devoted friends. Samuel Clemens and Olivia Langdon were married February 2, 1870, within two days of the anniversary of their engagement. A few days before the wedding Clemens wrote a long letter to Jim Gillis, out in the Tuolumne Hills, recalling their days at Angel's Camp and the absurd frog story, which he de- clared had been the beginning of his good fortune. At the close he told of his approaching marriage. He wrote: 140 A NEW BOOK AND A WEDDING You can't come so far, Jim, but still I cordially invite you to come, anyhow, and I invite Dick too. And if you two boys were to land here on that pleasant occasion we would make you right royally welcome. It had been only five years before, that day in Angel's Camp, but how far away it seemed to him now! Clemens received an invitation to lecture on the night of February 2d. He replied that he was sorry to disappoint the applicant, but was obliged to do so, for on that evening he was going to marry a yotmg lady, and that he would rather marry that young lady than to deliver all the lectures in the world. On the morning of the wedding day Mark Twain received from his publishers a royalty check of four thousand dollars, the accumulation of three months' sales, a cheerful beginning. The wedding was a home affair. The Rev. Joseph H. Twichell and Harmony, his wife, came over from Hartford; Twichell to assist the Rev. Thomas K. Beecher in performing the ceremony. Jane Clemens could not come, nor Orion. But Pamela, a widow now, and her daughter Annie, a young lady, arrived from St. Louis. About one hundred guests collected in the Langdon parlors, those quiet, stately rooms that were to hold so much of his history — so much of the story of life and death — that now made its begin- ning there. It was at seven in the evening that they were married. The bride danced with her father, and Mr. Beecher reported, at the meeting which he attended later, that she was very beautiful and wore 141 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN the longest white gloves he had ever seen; he de- clared they reached to her shoulders. On the following afternoon the wedding party, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Langdon, Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Crane, and Mr. and Mrs. Beecher, set out for Buffalo. Through a Mr. Slee, Mr. Lang- don's agent in that city, Clemens had engaged, as he supposed, accommodations in an impretentious boarding house, for it was his ptupose to begin his married life quite modestly. Jervis Langdon had another plan, which his family and Mr. Slee had helped him carry out. But of this Clemens knew nothing. It was nine o'clock at night when the party reached Btifialo and found Mr. Slee waiting at the station with sleighs to convey them to the "boarding house" he had selected. They started, and the sleigh containing the bride and groom soon fell behind and drove about rather aimlessly, apparently going nowhere in particular. This disturbed the groom a good deal, for he thought it proper that they should arrive first, to receive their guests. He criticized Slee's poor judgment in selecting a house that was so hard to find, and when at last they tvimed into Delaware Avenue, Buffalo's finest street, and stopped before one of the most attractive residences, he was troubled concerning the richness of the locaKty. They were on the steps when the doors opened, and a perfect fairyland of lights and decorations was revealed within. The friends who had gone ahead came out with greetings to lead in the bride and groom. Servants stepped forward to take 142 A NEW BOOK AND A WEDDING their bags and wraps. They were ushered in- side; were led through beautiful rooms all newly painted and garnished. The bridegroom was dazed, unable to understand the meaning of it all. At last his young wife put her hand upon his arm. "Don't you understand, Youth?" she said (that was always her name for him). "Don't you under- stand? It is ours, all ours — everything — a, gift from father." But even then he could not grasp it; not at first; not until Mr. Langdon brought a little box and, opening it, handed them the deeds. Nobody quite remembers what was the first remark that Samuel Clemens made, but either then or a little later he said: "Mr. Langdon, whenever you are in Buffalo, if it's twice a year, come right here. Bring your bag and stay overnight, if you want to. It sha'n't cost you a cent." XXX THE YEAR AT BUFFALO BUFFALO was no place for Mark Twain, and he presently found it out. He was already much more than a mere journalist — at least he was some- thing different. He was an author of world size; his place was among men of his own caliber and kind. He could not at once realize this. He thought his success had been in the nature of an accident — something he was not likely to repeat. That he worked hard there is plenty of evidence. He wrote editorials, sketches, and what not for the Express. His hours were not regular, but they were long. Often he was at his desk at eight in the morning and remained there until ten or eleven at night. In addition to his work on the paper he undertook a department for a new magazine, the Galaxy, for which he was to write several pages of jniscellany each month under the general head of "Meijiorai;ida." It was an independent, go-as-you- please department, filled with comment, criticism, sketches humorous and otherwise, according to the author's fancy. Neither the work in the Galaxy nor the Express represented Mark Twain at his best. He was ^forking under difficulties. After a few months of THE YEAR AT BUFFALO happiness, sorrow and trouble visited the home on Delaware Avenue. Jervis Langdon was never able to accept his son-in-law's playful invitation to visit him. His health failed that spring, and after a trip to the South he returned to Elmira to die. Mrs. Clemens, who adored her father, hurried to his bed- side, and her husband presently followed. They nursed him night and day, and for a time he seemed to rally, but early in August the end came. It was the beginning of a series of disasters that continued during the remaining period of their Buffalo resi- dence. Mrs. Clemens, worn by the strain of watch- ing, and bowed by her father's death, invited an old school friend, Miss Emma Nye, to visit her. Miss Nye had hardly arrived when she was stricken with typhoid fever. Now followed another long vigil of anxiety and nursing, ending with the death of the visitor. The young wife was by this time in very delicate health. Another friend came to cheer her, and on this friend's departure Mrs. Clemens drove to the railway station — a hurried trip over rough cobbled streets. She was prostrated on her return, and a little later, November 7, 1870, a baby boy, Langdon, was prematurely born. A dangerous ill- ness of both mother and child followed. One may easily imagine that Mark Twain found it difficult to keep up his htunorous writing under conditions like these. BHss meantime wanted another book and had journeyed to Elmira during Mr. Langdon's illness to close the contract. Clemens had signed the con- tract and begun the story of his Western adven- "' ' ' " 14s ' A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN tures, but had neither the time nor the spirit to con- tinue. Discouraged, he agreed with Mrs. Clemens to dispose of their Buffalo interests at the first op- portunity and find a home elsewhere. He gave up the Galaxy department forthwith. In a brief vale- dictory he said: I have now written for the Galaxy a year. For the last eight months, with hardly an interval, I have had for my fellows and comrades night and day, doctors and watchers of the sick. During these eight months death has taken two members of my home circle and malignantly threatened two others. All this I have experienced, yet all the time have been under con- tract to furnish "humorous" matter, once a month, for this magazine. I am speaking the exact truth in the above details. Please to put yourself in my place and contemplate the grisly grotesqueness of the situation. The Galaxy department and his work on the Express were Mark Twain's farewell to journalism. At no point had he reached the high standard of The Innocents Abroad. The circumstances of pro- duction had been hard; a dingy newspaper office and a sorrow-stricken home could provide little in the way o'f inspiration. XXXI QUARRY FARM AND HARTFORD CLEMENS sold his interest in the Express at con- siderable sacrifice, glad to be rid of it at any price. Then with the first spring days he carried Mrs. Clemens and little Langdon to a hilltop above Elmira, Quarry Farm, the home of Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Crane. It was a beautiful spot over- looking the Chemung River, an ideal place for sum- mertime. The air and quiet rest proved beneficial to the invalids, and Mark Twain resumed work there on his new book. The result did not satisfy him. He feared he had got out of the old swing. Joe Goodman on his way east dropped off at Elmira, and Mark Twain hurried him to the farm. Scarcely had they reached there when the author, explaining his anxiety, put the first chapters of the manuscript into the visitor's hands. Seating himself by a window, Goodman began to read deliberately and critically. He did not know that Clemens was watching him until suddenly the latter exclaimed: "I knew it! I knew it! I am writing nothing but rot ! You have sat there all this time, reading with- out a smile and pitjdng the ass I am making of my- self. But I am not wholly to blame. I am not 147 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN strong enough to write against fate. I have been trying to write a funny book, with dead people and sickness everywhere. Oh, Joe, I wish to God I could die, myself!" "Mark," said Goodman, "I was reading critically, not for amusement, and so far as I have read and can judge, this is one of the best things you have ever written. I have found it perfectly absorbing. You are doing a great book." Clemens knew that Goodman never spoke idly and in a moment was all enthusiasm, fuU of ideas for his story. He offered to pay Goodman a salary to keep him company and furnish him inspiration. Goodman remained without salary, and the two took long walks together, recalling old Comstock days. They fell into the habit of visiting the unused quarry for which the farm had been named, and amused themselves by collecting geological specimens. Many of the best chapters of Roughing It came out of those walks. In May Clemens wrote Bliss that he had twelve hundred manuscript pages of the new book completed and was turning out copy at the rate of from thirty to sixty-five pages daUy. He had now the greatest hooes for the book. In his letter he said : When I get it done I want to see the man who will begin to read it and not finish it. Nothing grieves me now; nothing troubles me, nothing bothers me or gets my attention. I don't think of anything but the book, and don't have an hour's unhap- piness about anything, and don't care two cents whether school keeps or not. The family health had improved. His work was going well and he was in the clouds, accordingly. 148 MARK TWAIN AT THIRTY-SIX QUARRY FARM AND HARTFORD He reconsidered his resolution not to lecture again. Selling the paper at a loss had left him financially cramped, and lecturing offered the quick- est relief. He prepared a lecture on Artemus Ward, another on pleasant characters he had met, and a thirci based on chapters of the new book. "During July I'll decide which one I like best," he wrote Redpath, and cautioned him not to make engagements for lectures in churches. "I never made a success of a lecturfe in a church yet. People are afraid to laugh in a church." Meantime Hartford had been selected by Mr. and Mrs. Clemens as their place of residence. They felt that they could not go back to their house in Buffalo, and they presently disposed of it. Both of them had pleasant acquaintances in Hartford; there was a distinct literary circle in that city which the Buffalo of those days lacked. The fine Hooker house on Forest Street was leased; the Buffalo house was closed, its handsome furnishings shipped to Hartford. In the year and a half of their occu- pancy it had seen weU-nigh all the round of life. This was in the autumn of 1871. Mark Twain lectured pretty steadily that winter, and was a good deal with the Boston group, which included Thomas Bailey Aldrich and Howells, also Bret Harte, who by this time had made his regal progress across the country and was in the splendid morning of his fame. Of the three lectures which Clemens had written he found that the chapters from Roughing It gave the best entertainment. He had full houses everywhere, and before the end of 149 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN the season had straightened out his financial diffi- culties. As usual, he was sick of the platform, anxious for the season to end. He telegraphed Redpath at the end of February: If I had another engagement I would rot before I would fiU it. Proofs of the new book had been following him, and in February Roughing It was ready to be issued from the press. Its advance sale had been large and Mark Twain resolved in future to confine himself strictly to the trade of authorship. If he only could have held to that resolution, what sorrow and trouble he would have saved himself in the days to come! Roughing It m a different way is quite as remark- able as The Innocents Abroad. If it has less charm, it has a more direct interest, and it is certainly not without charm. It was accepted by the public for just what it was and is — a great picture of the over- land pioneer days, a period now forever gone. Its sale was immediate and satisfactory, aggregating about forty thousand copies during the first three months. It did not, however, hold its place with The Innocents, which developed a staying quality unsurpassed by any other book of travel, and maintained to this day. XXXII A TRIP TO ENGLAND THE year of 1872 proved an eventful one for Mark Twain. In March his second child, a little girl, named Olivia Susan, for her mother and aunt, was bom. Three months later, in Hartford, little Langdon Clemens died. Frail from the be- ginning, he had been unable to survive a heavy cold ending with an attack of diphtheria. The family did not return to Elmira that year, believing the seashore would be better for Mrs. Clemens and the little girl. They went to Saybrook, Connecticut, to Fenwick Hall, where Clemens did but little work, though he managed to invent a self- pasting scrapbook, and would seem to have begun there a first draft of Tom Sawyer, apparently planned in dramatic form. But just then he conceived the notion of writing a book on England, and as he wished to make the experiment of English copyright for Roughing It, he decided to sail at once on this double errand. He gave out no word of the book idea and seems to have given up the notion some weeks after his arrival on the other side. He made a quantity of notes, filling several stylographic notebooks, but none of the matter was ever used. Probably he intended to write something in the nature of a humorous satire of English life, but found 151 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN English society quite different from his expectations. In the first place, they at once made a lion of him, flocking about him as if he had been a visiting ruler, as indeed he was in his special literary domain. Never at home had he received such attentions. Howells has written: In England rank, fashion, and culture rejoiced in him. Lord Mayors, Lord Chief Justices, and magnates of many kinds were .his hosts; he was desired in country houses, and his bold genius captivated the favor of periodicals that spumed the rest of our nation. He found, too, that English home life was a sub- stantial and altogether an admirable institution, that English cidture and social customs furnished examples to be followed rather than satirized. There was, indeed, nothing for him to make a book — his kind of a book — out of. All his impressions of England were happy ones. England even sustained his copyright on Roughing It, though certainly the law at this time was not very clearly defined. He was urged to lecture, but declined to do so, promis- ing, however, to return the following year. A number of amusing incidents are related of his London sojourn. Once at a banquet, when the list of distinguished names was being read and the diners were applauding, he was conversing with a friend at his side, joining in the applause without listening, accordingly as the others led. Finally a name was announced which was followed by a great outburst of handclapping. Mark Twain, not to be outdone in his approval, stoutly kept his hands IS2 A TRIP TO ENGLAND going when all the others had finished. Then of his neighbor he asked : "Whose name was that we were just applauding? " "Mark Twain's." But they took it as one of his jokes. Whatever he did or said they found highly amusing. On another occasion a speaker humorously referred to his American habit of carrjdng a cotton umbrella. His reply, that he carried a cotton umbrella because it was the only kind that an Englishman wouldn't steal, traveled all over England next day as one of the finest examples of modern repartee. To his mother he wrote: I came here to take notes for a book, but I haven't done much but attend dinners and make speeches. I've had a jolly good time, and I do hate to go away from these English folk; they make a stranger feel entirely at home and they laugh so easily that it is a comfort to make after-dinner speeches here. He sailed for home November 12 th, on the Ba- tavia, loaded with Christmas presents for everybody: jewelry, furs, laces, even a practical steam-engine for his little namesake, Pamela's son, Samuel Moffett. 11 XXXIII "the gilded age" CLEMENS had no intention of ever lecturing again, and refused the offers that Redpath regularly sent him. His success in England had added largely to his prestige at home. He was not yet the foremost American author, but undoubtedly he had become the most popular. Edwin Whipple wrote : Mark Twain is regarded chiefly as a humorist, but the exercise of his real talents would rank him with the ablest of our authors in the past fifty years. It was dioring this winter (1872-73) that the Clemens household enjoyed its first real home life in Hartford — its first real home life anywhere since those earliest months of marriage. Clemens himself was at home, and the family health was compara- tively good. Their house was in a literary neigh- borhood, that comer of Hartford then known as "Nook Farm." The Warners, the Stowes and other congenial spirits lived near by. One night when Mr. and Mrs. Charles Dudley Warner were dining with Mr. and Mrs. Clemens there rose a lively discussion concerning recently published novels. The two husbands were inclined to criticize the books in which their wives were 154 iff cX^ixJ (\^yt-dl*jCi h-^ V9^ (--trv^^i G '<%-t^y2£--r CTt!V/U/u»Tte-<-»-»-l^ MA..75>> t-^jC^^ -Ht-^rTuij A PAGE FROM THE MANUSCRIPT OF THE " GILDED AGE ' The end of Mark Tvain'a first installment. A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN finding pleasure, whereupon the wives promptly suggested that their husbands produce better ones. This being somewhat in the nature of a challenge, it was promptly accepted as such — mutually ac- cepted; that is to say, in partnership. Clemens and Warner declared that they would do a novel together, and would begin it forthwith. There was some further talk, and next day Mark Twain was hard at work on the first chapters of The Gilded Age. Already he had the beginning of a story in his mind, but had been unwilling to undertake a work of fiction alone. His purpose was to write a tale around his mother's cousin, James Lampton — to let that gentle visionary stand as the central figure against a proper background. He worked with enthusiasm and finished the first f eleven chapters in a comparatively brief time. These he read aloud to Warner, who took up the tale at this point and began to inject new characters and romance through the next twelve chapters. So they worked alternately "in the superstition," as Mark Twain once declared, "that we were writing one coherent yarn, when I suppose, as a matter of fact, we were writing two ^coherent ones." The book begun in February was finished in April, and the result, if not highly artistic, was astonish- ingly good reading. Mark Twain's part in it will stand with some of his best work. The character of Colonel Sellers has taken its place as a figure in American development. His saying, "There's mil- lions in it," has passed into the language. XXXIV BACK IN LONDON AGAIN MR. AND MRS. CLEMENS decided to make Hartford their permanent home. They bought a plot of land on Farmington Avenue, still nearer to their literary neighbors, and set about plans for build- ing. In May, when the new house was well started, they concluded to leave it in the hands of the archi- tect and builder, and with Miss Clara Spaulding, a girlhood friend of Mrs. Clemens, and little Susy, now something more than a year old, they sailed for England, on a long holiday. Whatever honors Mark Twain may have received on his first trip to England, they were doubled now. His rooms at the Langham Hotel were like a court. Robert Browning, Turgenev, Sir John MiUais, Lord Houghton, and Sir Charles Dilke were among those who called to pay their respects. Wilkie Collins, Charles Reade, and other popular novelists of that day haunted the Langham, fascinated by Mark Twain's personality and story-telling. Reade in- vited him to collaborate on a novel. The excitement and demands of London life told on Mrs. Clemens. She delighted in the cordial EngUsh hospitality, but her endurance was limited. Near the end of July they canceled all social engage- ments and took refuge in Edinburgh, at Veitch's 157 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN family hotel in George Street. Here she had a col- lapse of strength that required the attention of a physician. Clemens, unacquainted with Edinburgh, remembered only that Dr. John Brown, who had written Rab and His Friends, lived there. Learning the address, he walked round to 23 Rutland Street and introduced himself. Doctor Brown came at once, and Mrs. Clemens promptly improved under his treatment. The acquaintance did not end there. For nearly a month the creator of "Rab" called daily and the members of the two families became the closest friends. Little Susy, whom he called "Megalopis" because of her wonderful eyes, became his special playmate. They romped through the hotel rooms together with that complete abandon which few grown persons can assume in their play with chil- dren and not all children can assume in their play with grown-ups. The Clemens family often joined Doctor Brown in his professional rounds. He was beloved by every- one and especially by all dogs, of whom he was the chief protector. Edinburgh had its social affairs, too, though very quiet ones. On her recovery Mrs. Clemens made friends and memories that remained always very dear to her. In a letter to her sister, August 24th: We leave Edinburgh to-morrow, with sincere regret; we have had such a delightful stay here — ^we do so regret leaving Dr. Brown and his sister, thinking that we shall probably never see them again. 158 BACK IN LONDON AGAIN Mark Twain remembered his promise to lecture in London, and on October 13, 1873, appeared in the Queen's Concert Rooms, Hanover Square, and de- livered "Our Fellow Savages of the Sandwich Islands." The papers heralded the event and the house was packed. The lecturer appeared on the platform, with no one to introduce him. He began apologetically by saying that Mr. Clemens had fully expected to be present. Many of the audience thought it was the manager and loud murmurs arose. The lecturer lifted his hand and added, "I am happy to say that Mark Twain is present and will now give his lecture." Whereupon the audience re- covered and roared its approval. For five successive nights and a Saturday matinle the culture and fashion of London thronged to hear him discourse of their "FeUow Savages." Nothing of the kind had happened in London before. The papers for a week devoted columns of space to appre- ciation and editorial comment. On no occasion in his own country had his triumph beega so complete. But it was only a beginning. Three days fol- lowing his lecture course he sailed with his little family for America, then promptly returned alone, and with George Dolby ^ as his manager was back in London, lecttuing again, after barely a month's absence. For two months he filled the big Hanover Square room, giving for the most part his Roughing It lecture. It was only toward the end of this record engagement that the audience showed any signs of diminishing. ' Fonnerly agent of Charles Dickens. 159 XXXV TOM SAWYER, COLONEL SELLERS, AND THE NEW HOME MARK TWAIN returned to America at the end of January, 1874, and was immediately be- sieged by Redpath to make the lecture circuit. He vowed that he would never start on another tour, but yielded to the extent of giving a lecture here and there during February. Finally, on the 3d of March he telegraphed to his tormentor: Why don't you congratulate me? I never expect to stand on a lecture platform again after Thursday night. Howells and Aldrich came over from Boston for a visit, and with Twichell and Charles Dudley Warner two happy days and evenings passed — "days, "says Howells, "such as the aging sun no longer shines on in his round." The new house was coming along well, but would not be ready before autumn. Leaving it once more in the hands of th6 builders, the owners went to Quarry Farm, and in a cozy little study which Mrs. Crane had built for him on the hillside Mark Twain began a story which he had been planning for some time. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. The study was an inspiring place and he worked well and rapidly. To Twichell he wrote oi his new retreat: 160 THE NEW HOME It is the loveliest study you ever saw. It is octagonal, with a peaked roof, each face filled with a spacious window, and it sits perched in complete isolation on the top of an elevation that commands leagues of valley and city and retreating ranges of distant blue hills. He did not work steadily on the Tom Sawyer book ; perhaps he ran out of incident fort he time, or it may be that other subjects furnished a sharper in- terest. He did some short sketches, one of which, "A True Story Repeated Word for Word as I Heard It " — a story really told to him by Mrs. Crane's cook, "Aunty Cord" — was taken by Howells for the Atlantic Monthly — Mark Twain's first acceptance by that magazine. It also happened that summer that a California writer named Densmore produced a play founded on TPie Gilded Age, with John T. Raymond in the part of Colonel Sellers. Clemens heard of this through Goodman, and promptly took steps in the matter. He had already planned to write a play around the character of Colonel Sellers and had taken out dramatic copyright. He therefore stopped the California production, wrote the dramatist a friendly letter, and in the end bought the play of him. He now rewrote it, enlarging upon the scenes to bring out the character of Sellers. Raymond, who had demonstrated his power in the part, came on, and a contract was closed with him for its production. It proved a great success and Raymond played it for several years. As a dramatic composition its rank was not high, but the character of Sellers himself made a strong human appeal. He became as populaj- i6i A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN on the stage as he had been In the book, and returned a large profit both to actor and to dramatist. The new house in Hartford was not quite ready when its owners returned, but they moved into such portions of it as were available, and little by little extended their occupation, until at last the workmen were gone and the handsome furnishings were in place. It was quite a wonderful house. It stood on the edge of a shady slope that fell away to a quiet stream. Its architecture in no way resembled the big square Hartford mansions of the period. There were balconies and wings and gables; also an im- mense veranda that at one end looked down the shaded slope. It was filled with beautiful things. Mrs. Clemens had bought freely during her stay in Etu"ope, and had excellent taste in the matter of furnishings. In the library was an old carved mantel, picked up in Scotland, salvage from a ruined castle. Across the top of the fireplace was a brass plate with the motto, "The ornament of a house is the friends that frequent it" — 'Surely never more appropriately inscribed. Many visitors have tried to express the charm of Mark Twain's home. Howells assures us that there never was another like it, and we may accept his statement. Home of one of the most unusual and unaccountable personalities in the world, it was nevertheless perfectly and serenely ordered. Mark Twain was not responsible for this condition ; it was ground his wife that its affairs steadily revolved, 162 THE NEW HOME In the four and a half years of their marriage Olivia Clemens had become something more than the half- timid, inexperienced girl of her wedding day. In spite of her delicate physique and her uncertainty of health, she capably tmdertook the management of this large, new house and supervised its economies. Any one of her undertakings was sufficient for one woman, but she compassed them all. No children had more careful training than hers, no husband more devoted attendance and companionship, no household was ever directed with a sweeter and gentler grace or with greater perfection of detail. When distinguished visitors came to seek out America's most picturesque literary figure she gave welcome to them all, and filled her place at his side with such sweet and capable dignity that those who came to pay their duties to him often returned to offer even greater devotion to his companion. Says Ho wells: She was, in a way, the loveliest person I have ever seen — ^the gentlest, the kindest, without a touch of weakness; she united wonderful tact with wonderful truth, and Clemens not only accepted her rule implicitly, but he rejoiced, he gloried in it. And again Howells wrote: Marriages are what the parties to them alone really know them to be, but from the outside I should say that this marriage was one of the most perfect. XXXVI *', the walk to boston, and old times on the Mississippi" IN those days when the Rev. Joseph Twichell and Mark Twain were young men they were fond of taking long walks — 'excursions filled with pleasant talk that covered all the range of human possibility. There was a wooden structure about five miles from Hartford known as Talcott's Tower, and this was one of their favorite objectives. They talked so con- tinuously that they scarcely noticed the distance, and one day decided that they could quite easily walk from Hartford to Boston, a distance of about a hundred miles. They grew enthusiastic over the idea, and decided to start soon. On the morning of November 12, 1874, they left Twichell's house in a carriage, drove to the east end of Hartford bridge, and there took the road — Twichell carrying a little bag, and Clemens a basket of lunch. It turned out to be a good day for walking ; by evening they had reached West- ford, a distance of twenty-eight miles. The tour may be said to have ended there. After an uneasy night, Clemens awoke exceedingly lame and footsoie. Stimulated by Twichell, he limped and swore six miles farther to North Ashford, then gave it up. He telegraphed Redpath of their approach: 164 THE WALK TO BOSTON We have made thirty-five miles in less than five days. This demonstrates that the thing can be done. Shall now finish by rail. Did you have any bets on us? Word was also sent to Howells, who prepared a reception for them at his house — a combination of pleasant company and warm, substantial food. Clemens was at his best that night. In his book, My Mark Twain, Howells tells us: I can see him now as he stood up in the midst of our friends, with his head thrown back, and in his hand a dish of those escal- loped oysters without which no party in Cambridge was really a party, exulting in the tale of his adventure, which had abounded in the most original characters and amusing incidents at every mile of their progress. Next night Mark Twain gaye a dinner to Howells, Aldrich, and others of his literary set. He assured them that he and Twichell were going to make an annual pedestrian tour to Boston. Howells at this time was urging Mark Twain to do some extended feature for the Atlantic, or at least something for the January number. Clemens had about given up the thought, when it happened, soon after their return to Hartford, that during one of their walks together he related to Twichell some- thing of his piloting days. Home from the walk, he wrote Howells : I take back the remark that I can't write for the January number, for Twichell and I have had a long walk in the woods, and I got to telling him about old Mississippi days of steam- boating glory and grandeur as I saw them (during four years) from the pilot house. He said, "What a virgin subject to hurl into a magazine." I hadn't thought of that before. Would you like a series of pa^rs to run through three months or six or nine — or about-four months, say? i6S A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN Howells joyftilly accepted the proposed series. He was of a piloting family, himself. Clemens did not delay his first article, and upon its arrival HoweUs wrote that it made the water in his ice pitcher muddy to read it. Those early Mississippi chapters contain some of Mark Twain's very best writing. He knew the subject so well, and loved it so much. When the first number appeared in the Atlantic, John Hay wrote the author: "It is perfect; no more nor less. I don't see how you do it." And added, "You know what my opinion is of time not spent with you." Howells urged him not to drop the series ujitil he got every bit of anecdote and reminiscence out of it. The papers ran through seven numbers of the Atlantic and added materially to their author's literary fame. They were everywhere reprinted by the newspapers, and pirated in book form by a Canadian publisher. The author himself did not include them in a volume until many years later. Clemens bought a typewriter on the trip to Bos- ton, the first one he had ever seen. It was a primi- tive affair — ^its tjTpe all capitals. But he was fas- cinated by it and put in a good deal of time writing letters to friends, for practice. Some of the Mis- sissippi chapters were copied on it.' But it did not stay in order. The keys had a way of sticking and he declared it was ruining his morals. He finally gave it to Howells, because "Howells had no morals, ansnvay." What even- tually became of it has not been learned. That was a busy summer for Mark Twain. He i66 THE WALK TO BOSTON had a book in press — Sketches New and Old, which included the Jumping Frog tale and some of his earlier, as well as many of his later, stories. Also he had renewed work on the Tom Sawyer book, which he brought to a finish early in July. He was in Hartford at this time, and wrote to Howdls: I have finished the story and didn't take the chap beyond boyhood. ... If I went on now and took him into manhood, he would lie, like all the one-horse men in literature, and the reader would conceive a hearty contempt for him. He added that it was not a boy's book at all. A view with which Howells did not in the least agree. The latter wrote: It is altogether the best boy story I ever read. It will be an immense success, but I think you ought to treat it explicitly as a boy's story; grown-ups will enjoy it just as much if you do, and if you should put it forth as a study of boy character from the grown-up point of view you give the wrong key to it. The book was not published until something more than a year later, December, 1876. It made an immediate hit and remained one of Mark Twain's most successful books, for readers of all ages. XXXVII CAMBRIDGE — ELMIRA — "hUCK FINN" — "AH SIN' "prince and pauper" CLEMENS and his wife made trips to Boston now and then, to visit the Howellses and to meet the members of the Cambridge literary set. Clemens himself was frequently in Cambridge, where the Howells home was always waiting for him and was promptly adjusted to his requirements without regard to its former routine. In his My Mark Twain Howells tells how his guest would take a room at the Parker House and perhaps dress for d:nner, to arrive later at Cambridge in evening dress and slippers, joyously remaining with them for a day or more in that guise, putting on an overcoat and a pair of rubbers when he went out for a walk. Also, how he smoked continuously in every room of the house — smoked during every waking moment — and how Howells, mindful of his insurance, some- times slipped in and removed the still burning cigar, after he was asleep. He was a perpetual joy to the HoweUs family when he was there, even though the household required a general reorganization when he was gone. Mildred Howells remembers how, as a very little girl, she was cautioned by her mother not to ask for anything she wanted at the table when company was present, but to speak privately of it i68 CAMBRIDGE AND ELMIRA to her. Miss Howells declares that while Mark Twain was their guest she nearly starved, because it was impossible to get her mother's attention, and Mrs. Howells, after one of those visits of hilarity and disorder, said, "Well, it most kills me, but it pays," a remark which Clemens himself vastly enjoyed. Howells once wrote to him: Your visit was a perfect ovation for us; we never enjoy any- thing so much as those visits of yours. The smoke and the Scotch and the late hours almost kill us; but we look each other in the eyes when you are gone, and say what a glorious time it was, and air the library, and begin sleeping and longing to have you back agaia. Most of the summers Mark Twain spent at Quarry Farm. There were two little girls now, Susy and Clara, and the farm was a lovely place for them. It had plenty of animals, and a wide, safe, grassy expanse before the house, for a playground. Once Clemens wrote to Doctor Brown, that they went to Elmira to be "hermits and eschew caves and live in the sun." )Mark Twain did most of his writing in Elmira. He found the little octagonal study, built for him by Mrs. Crane, an inspiring place, and here in 1876 he made a beginning on a book which was to supplement The Adventures of Tom Sawyer — The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. He had no great faith in his beginning. In a letter of that time he wrote, "I like it only tolerably well, as far as I have gone, and may possibly pigeon- hole or burn the manuscript when it is done" — this of the story which, of his books of pure fiction, will 12 169 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN perhaps longest survive. He gave up the effort, , presently, with the tale about half completed, and let it lie unfinished for years. Clearly he was not in the mood. He did a number of other things that summer, but they were of no particular importance. That winter Bret Harte came to Hartford, and they wrote a play together. It was constructed around a Chinese character to be played by Charles Parsloe, famous in such parts. They called the play "Ah Sia " and they had a very good time writing it, though Clemens and Harte were not as congenial as in their pioneer days. Success had not been good for Harte. It had disturbed his general psy- chology; some of his habits were open to criticism. In time Clemens and Harte became altogether estranged. The play "Ah Sin" was only a partial success. It pleased a number of people very much. But it did not please enough people to warrant its con- tinued production. It was tried in Washington, in New York, and later on the road, but was eventually abandoned to its fate and heard of no more. Mark Twain did not give up the playwriting idea, and for a number of years was generally working at some dramatic composition or other, but without much success. He did not have the trick of play- writing. It was just at this time, however, that he began work on a story full of dramatic possibilities, to be developed later by other hands. One day, among the books at Quarry Farm, he came upon a little juvenile volume by Charlotte M. Yonge, entitled The Prince and the Page. It was the 170 CAMBRIDGE AND ELMIRA story of a prince, disguised as a blind beggar through a period of years. Reading it, Mark Twain de- veloped an idea for a tale of his own. Not only would he have a prince in the guise of a beggar, but a beggar in the guise of a prince. He would have them change places in the world and each leam the burden of the other's life. He began work immediately, finding some diffi- culty at first in selecting his hero. Originally his idea had been to use the late King Edward VII at about fifteen, but found that he could not con- vincingly lose a prince among the slums of modern London and have his proud estate denied and jeered at by the mob. So he followed -back through his- tory, looking for the proper time and prince, until he came to little Edward Tudor, son of Henry VIII. The little prince was really too young, but no matter, he would do. His original thought had been to write a play, but then he decided to begin his new venture in story form. He put away all thought of everything cheap and modern, steeped himself in the period of his story, and began one of the loveliest tales ever written of old English life. He finished about four hundred pages of the manuscript that summer (1877), then, as the inspiration seemed to lag, put it aside, as was his habit, until his interest in the theme should be renewed. It was a long wait, as usual. He did not touch the story again for more than two years. XXXVIII AN ENTERTAINER AT HOME TEN years earlier, when Mark Twain had first lectured in New York City, at the Cooper Union, the cartoonist, Thomas Nast, whose pictures were then coming into notice, proposed to him that they imdertake a lecture tour together — Clemens to speak and Nast simultaneously to illustrate with quick sketches. At the time Mark Twain had been unable to enter into such an arrangement. Now, however, the thought appealed to him; he wrote Nast a letter proposing that they arrange for a joint tour. In part he said : My dear Nast: I did not think I should ever stand on a platform again until the time was come for me to say "I die innocent." But the same old offers keep arriving. I have declined them all, just as usual, though sorely tempted, as usual. Now, I do not decline because I mind talking to an audience, but because (i) traveling alone is so heartbreakingly dreary, and (2) shouldering the whole show is such a cheer-kiUing responsibility. Therefore, I now propose to you what you proposed to me in 1867, ten years ago (when I was unknown) — viz., that you stand on the platform and make pictures, and I stand by you and black- guard the audience. I should enormously enjoy meandering around (to big towns — don't want to go to little ones), with you for company. My idea is not to fatten the lecture agents and lyceums on the spoils, but to put all the ducats religiously into two equal piles and say to artist and lecturer, "Absorb these." 172 AN ENTERTAINER AT HOME It was a long letter, containing a full plan and a possible list of cities to be visited, with estimated receipts. Undoubtedly such a tour would have been successful, but Nast had been lecturing on his own account, and, though successful, had acquired a strong distaste for the platform. He declined and we may believe that Clemens was not greatly disap- pointed. He cared always more for his fireside happiness than for roaming the country as an entertainer. Mark Twain was always sure of an audience at home. When friends were not there he still had little Clara and Susy, the most devoted and attentive lis- teners in the world. They had learned his gift as a romancer, and allowed him to be as extravagant as he pleased. They sometimes assisted by furnishing subjects. They would bring him a picture, requiring him to invent a story for it without a moment's delay. On one side of the library, along the book- shelves that joined the mantelpiece, were numerous ornaments and pictures. At one end was the head of a girl that they called "Emeline," and at the other was an oil painting of a cat. When other subjects failed, the romancer was obliged to build a story impromptu, beginning with the cat, working along through the bric-a-brac, and ending with Emeline. This was the unvarying program; he was not allowed to begin with Emeline and end with the cat, and he was not permitted to introduce an ornament from any other portion of the room. He could vary the story as much as he liked. In fact, he was required to do that, but the literary path from the 173 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN cat to Emeline must be duly followed, and the romancer remembered it his life long. Clemens had a luxurious study in the new house, but gave it up to the children, for a playroom, transferring his writing quarters, first to a room over the stable, then to the billiard room at the top of the house. He really preferred the latter to any other locality. When his work did not go well he could knock the balls about for inspiration. When callers came he received them there and impressed them into the game. If they could play he was happy; if they could not he was happier still, for then he could beat them extravagantly, and he took a huge delight in such conquests. Mark Twain was an inveterate billiard player to almost the last days of his life. In those Hartford years there was a group who came regularly each Friday evening. They played late, but never late enough for him. He seemed never to be tired; he would go on playing till the last man gave out from sheer weariness ; then he would still go on knocking the balls about, alone. He liked to invent new games, and new rules for old games, often inventing a rule on the spur of the moment to fit some par- ticular shot or position on the table. It amused him highly to do this and to pretend deep indignation when his opponents disqualified his ruling and rode him down. XXXIX TRAMPING ABROAD WITH TWICHELL TT is unlikely that Mark Twain and his wife were •*■ ever happier than at this particular time. It seems almost too bad, now, that they should have closed their beautiful home that spring to make an extended European tour. There were reasons, however. Mark Twain had published no important book recently, and had apparently lost interest in his two unfinished manu- scripts of value. The Prince and the Pauper and Huckleberry Finn. A Mark Twain book was wanted by his publishers, and especially were they anxious for another book of travel. Clemens and his wife, therefore, decided to take up European residence for a year or more, to give the children the advantage of the German language, then very popular, and to obtain material for a new book. They began the study of German at home, and in April, 1878, sailed on the Holsatia for Hamburg, with Bayard Taylor and Murat Halstead as fellow travelers. Taylor was on his way to his post as minister to Germany. Halstead had come down the bay to bid a last farewell to his wife and daughter, passengers on the Holsatia, but had somehow man- aged to get overlooked and suddenly found himself on his way across the ocean with a very scanty ward' 17s A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN robe indeed. Halstead, however, was a jolly, adaptable person, and Bayard Taylor, who was of the same ample size, provided him with clothes. It was a stormy two weeks' sailing, but good com- pany made the voyage not altogether an unpleasant one. The Clemens party proceeded to Heidelberg and were presently established at the beautiful Schloss Hotel, with wonderful glassed-in observation perches, commanding views of Heidelberg castle, Jthe city be- low, the densely wooded hills, the far-flowing Neckar, and the mist-haunted valley of the Rhine. Clemens wrote enthusiastically to Howells of the situation, and presently sent a letter to the Rev. Joe Twichell, naming a date when Twichell should join him in Germany and become his guest on a walking tour, during which, as he expressed it, he would "dig material enough out of Joe to make it a sound investment. " As a matter of fact he loved Twichell's companionship and was always inviting him to share his journeys — to Boston, to Bermuda, to Washing- ton — wherever interest or fancy led him. The plan for the walking tour had been partly arranged before the departure from Hartford. Twichell, now receiving the confirming news, wrote that it was a great day for him — -that his third son had been happily bom early that morning, and now this glorious gift of a tramp through Germany and Switzerland completed his blessings. I am almost too joyful for pleasure. I labor with my felicities. How I shall, get to sleep to-night I don't know, though I have had a good start in not having slept much last night. Oh, my! 176 TRAMPING ABROAD do you realize, Mark, what a sjnnposium it is to me? I do . . . to walk with you and talk with you, for weeks together — ^why, it's my dream of luxury. . . . SHOES — Mark, remember that ever so much of our pleasure depends upon your shoes. Don't fail to have adequate prepara- tion in that department'. Meantime the Clemens party were having what amounted to a hand-to-hand struggle with the Ger- man tongue. Mark Twain got inspiration for his essay on the "Awful German Language" at this time. Twichell arrived August ist, as agreed. Clemens met him at Baden-Baden, and they at once set out on the tramp through the Black Forest, a happy, leisurely excursion, though they did not confine themselves to walking, but took a carriage or a donkey cart or a train — whatever convenient thing happened along. They idled and talked and gath- ered flowers, beguiling the way with discussion and entertaining tales. By and by they crossed over into Switzerland and considered the conquest of the Alps. The family followed by rail or diligence, and met them here and there when they rested from their wanderings. They climbed the Rigi, following which Twichell went on a little side trip while Clemens recovered. Then presently they were off to Interlalcen, and then once more afoot they scaled the loneliness of Gemmi Pass, arriving some days later at Zermatt and the wonder of the Matterhorn. They did not scale the Matterhorn; they were content to look at it. The association of the wanderers was a very intimate one. Twichell had a fine chance to study 177 A SHORT LIFE OP MARK TWAIN Mark Twain's character under the trying conditions of travel, and in the letters to his wife his con- clusions are reflected. Once he wrote: A strange Mark, he is full of contradiction. I spoke last night of his sensitiveness to others' feelings. To-day the guide got behind, and came up as if he would like to go by, yet hesitated to do so. Mark paused, went aside and busied himself a minute picking a flower. In the halt the guide got by and resumed his place in front. Mark threw the flower away, saying: "I didn't want that. I only wanted to give the old man a chance to go on without seeming to pass us." At another time he wrote: His sensitive regard for others extends to animals. When we are driving his concern is all about the horse. He can't bear to see the whip used, or to see a horse pull hard. There are many such things in the letters which Twichell sent home. Once he tells how they came upon a foaming, tumbling stream and Mark Twain amused himself throwing sticks and stones into the boiling water. Twichell pushed some driftwood into the racing torrent. When I got back to the path Mark was running downstream after it as hard as he could go, throwing up his hands and shouting in the wildest ecstasy, and when a piece went over a fall and emerged to view in the foam below he would jump up and down and yell. He said afterward that he hadn't been so excited in three months. He acted just like a boy. Twichell and Clemens finally closed their wander- ings at Lausanne, where they joined Mrs. Clemens. Their Swiss holiday was ended. Twichell set out for home by way of England, and Clemens gave him- self up to reflection and rest after his wanderings. 178 TRAMPING ABROAD He wrote Twichell a characteristic letter, assuring him of his deep affection and the rich pleasure their companionship had afforded him. In the course of it he said: I am putting out of my mind all memory of the times when I misbehaved toward you and hurt you; I am resolved to consider it forgiven, and to store up and remember only the charming hours of the journeys and the times when I was not unworthy to be with you and share a companionship which to me stands first after Livy's. It is justifiable to do this; for why should I let my small infirmities of disposition live and grovel among my mental pictures of the eternal sublimities of the Alps. The Clemens party remained another year in Europe. They spent a considerable time in Italy, then settled for the winter in Munich, where Mark Twain worked pretty steadily on the new book of travel. At times it seemed to him that his work went badly enough. Many chapters he threw aside or destroyed. He had the feeling that he had some- how lost the knack of descriptive narrative. Some of the omitted chapters were saved and used else- where; the "Stolen Elephant" was one of these, also the "Coffin Box" yam, and the Pitcaim sketch. The family went to Paris in the spring — a chUly, rainy season. Later they crossed over to England, where they found it no better, so that their European sojourn lacked sunshine at the end. Mark Twain met Darwin in England and learned that the great man was an admirer of his books. Darwin said that he always kept a copy of The Innocents Abroad by his bedside to read when he wanted to go to sleep. It was a compliment with a doubtful sound, but the 179 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN author was happy in the thought that his work could soothe the greatest thinker of the age. They sailed in August, arriving in New York eleven days later. The papers reported that Mark Twain had grown older during his year and a hah of absence and that his hair had turned quite gray. The family proceeded at once to Quarry Farm, and Clemens plunged into work on his book which was not yet finished. To Twichell he wrote: I am revising my MS. I did not expect to like it, but I do. I have been knocking out early chapters for more than a year now, not because they have not merit, but merely because they hindered the flow of the narrative; it was a dredging process. . . . I believe it wUl be a readable book of travels. I cannot see that it lacks an5rthing but information. XL "the prince and the pauper" and other enterprises WORK on the new book went well enough for a time; then it began to drag. Mark Twain was always more or less of an inspirational worker — he had to be in the mood. He returned to Hartford with his book still unfinished. Out of six hundred pages he tore up all but two hundred and eighty- eight. To Howells he wrote : I took the 288 pages to Bliss and told him that was the very last line I should ever write on this book (a book which required 2,600 pages of MS. and I have written nearly 4000, first and last). I am soary and (flighty) as a rocket to-day, with the unutter- able joy of getting that Old Man of the Sea off my back, where he has been I'oosting more than a year and a half. The Tramp Abroad finished Clemens was seized with an impulse to take up work again on a manu- script he had begun with great enthusiasm, and put aside, more than two years before. This was none other than the tale of The Prince and the Pauper, and after the drudgery of his book of travel the story of little Edward Tudor seemed to him like play. He wrote Howells that if he never sold a copy of the book his delight in writing it would be just the same. 181 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN I take so much pleasure in my story that I am loath to hurry, not wanting to get it done. Did I ever teU you the plot of it? It begins at 9 A.m., January 27, 1547. • • • My idea is to afford a realizing sense of the exceeding severity of the laws of that day by inflicting some of their penalties upon the kiag himself, and allowing him a chance to see the rest of them applied to others. Mrs. Clemens, to whom he read his manuscript aloud at the end of each day, could not get enough of it. Their little girls were also eager listeners, and the story was finally dedicated "To those good- mannered and agreeable children, Susy and Clara Clemens." With the possible exception of the story of Joan of Arc, which he would write some fifteen years later, it is probable that Mark Twain never so thoroughly enjoyed any other literary performance. It came from the very best that was in him, and was precisely the kind of story that he would love, whether told by himself or by another. Meantime the Tramp Abroad came from the press. Clemens sent Twichell a presentation copy with a long letter written on the fly-leaves, addressed : To my dear "Harris," such being the name under which Twichell appears in the book. In it he said: Just imagine for a moment; I was collecting material in Europe during fourteen months for a book, and now that the thing is printed I find that you, who were with me only a month and a half of the fourteen, are in actual presence (not imaginary) in 440 of the 531 pages the book contains. . . . You have saved me an intolerable whole world of hated labor, and I'll not forget it, my boy. The appendix to the Tramp Abroad contains some of the book's choicest humor. The essay on the 182 "THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER" ' 'Awful German La nguage." is an example of Mark Twain at his very best. Clemens was at this time doing a good deal of work for the Atlantic Monthly. Howells was still the editor, and kept at him for stories. "Mrs. Mc- Williams and the Lightning " was done at this period, a sketch fuU of broad humor contrived from absurd incident. Rose Terry Cooke wrote of it : Horrid man, how did you know the way I behave in a thunder- storm? . . . Worst of it all is that you made me laugh at myself; my real terrors turned roimd and grimaced at me; they were sublime and you have made them ridiculous. ... I really hate you, but you are funny. In addition to his own work, he now conceived a plan for Orion. Clemens himself had been attempt- ing, from time to time, an absolutely faithful auto- biography, but had found it an impossible task. He confessed freely that he lacked the courage, even the abiHty, to lay his soul bare. He beKeved Orion could do it, and that if he would record in detail his long, weary struggle, with all his attempts and failures, his dreams and disappointments, it would make one of those priceless human documents such as have been left by Casanova and Rousseau. Orion had long since returned from Nevada and taken up residence again in Keokuk. He had con- ducted a chicken farm and a variety of other enter- prises, without success. He was, therefore, ripe for any new diversion, and the autobiography idea ap- pealed to him. He set about it with enthusiasm, wrote a hundred pages or so of his childhood, set 183 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN down everything with startling frankness, and mailed the result to his brother for inspection. The story was all that Mark Twain had hoped for — ^more, in fact. There was nothing too humiliating for Orion to confess, once he got started. Clemens forwarded the manuscript to Howells, suggesting that chapters of the confession be printed anony- mously in the Atlantic. Howells was a realist, but he had his limitations. He strongly advised against publication. Orion, meantime, was steaming along at the rate of from ten to twenty pages a day, forwarding them as fast as written, while his courage was good and the fires warm. His brother, receiving a package by every morning mail, presently lost interest, then de- veloped a hunted feeling, becoming finally desperate. He wrote wildly to shut Orion off, urging him to let his manuscript accumulate and send it in one large consignment, when finished. Orion obeyed, and in this instance stuck to his work to the bitter, dis- heartening end. And it would have been all that Mark Twain had dreamed had his brother main- tained the simple narrative of its early pages. But he drifted ofE into theological byways, lacking in human interest. A quantity of Orion's manuscript has been lost or destroyed. The remaining frag- ments of it show how faithful was his effort. It was never published, but it nevertheless brought a return. For it moved Samuel Clemens, who had always helped his brother at intervals, to make him now a steady allowance of seventy-five dollars per month, a comfortable income for those days. 184 XLI LIFE AT QUARRY FARM — GENERAL GRANT 'T'HAT year (1880), in Elmira, a third little girl ■^ arrived in the Clemens household — a large, fine child whom they named Jane Lampton, for her grandmother, but always called Jean. Her father, writing to his friend Twichell, spoke of her as the ' ' comeliest and daintiest and perf ectest little creature the continents and archipelagoes have seen since the Bay (Clara) and Susy were her size." He adds that Jean now heads the list in the affections of the children, her mamma being second, followed by the two cats, with himself last. Sometime ago it used to be nip and tuck between me and the cats, but after the cats "developed" I didn't stand any more show. Mark Twain had taken up work again, intermit- tently, at least, on the story of Huck Finn, begun four years earlier. His interest in it had again awakened, but it was not an enthusiastic one. Per- haps the fact that he was giving the finishing touches to The Prince and the Pauper at this time, a tale so different in character, would account for this. He worked pretty steadily, piling up manuscript, taking always a boyish pride in the number of pages he could complete at a sitting. When the day had 13 185 A SHORT'LIFE OF MARK TWAIN gone well he would count them triiimphantly, then, lighting a fresh cigar, would come tripping down the long stair that led to the level of the farmhouse, and, assembling his audience on the veranda, would read aloud the result of his industry. It was a friendly audience, but critical. The author was not allowed to take too many liberties with his heroes and her- oines. His auditors, small and large, were self- appointed censors to keep him straight. The reference in the letter to Twichell, concerning the cats at the farm, introduces an important feature of that happy resort. There were always cats at the farm. From childhood to old age, Mark Twain loved cats, and his children inherited this passion. Little Susy once said: "The difference between papa and mamma is, that mamma loves morals and papa loves cats." Clemens cared little for dogs, though he was never unkind to them. Once at the farm a gentle hound named Bones even won his affection. Bones was always a welcome companion, and at the end of the summer, when Clemens, as was his habit, started down the drive ahead of the carriage, he found Bones halfway to the entrance, waiting for him. Stooping down, Mark Twain put his arms arotmd the faithful animal and bade him an affectionate good-by. He conceived enthusiasms for inanimate things, as well as for animals. At one time it was a new filing system, which was going to save the human race. At another time it was the newly invented fountain pen of which he was one of the earliest owners. He wrote to everybody about it, urging its i86 LIFE AT QUARRY FARM adoption, but later, when it acquired the habit of refusing to write, then suddenly deluging the paper, he pitched it out of the window and bought a stylo- graphic pen, which he was sure would rescue the world from sin. He tried to get Howells to use it, and called him a "blamed old sodden-headed conservative" because he was not immediately converted. Howells, Doctor Brown, Twichell, and others were all presently struggling with the inven- tion, trying to believe that salvation lay in its use. HoweUs flung his away, one day, in the midst of a letter to Clemens himself, with the words, "No white man ought to use a stylographic pen, anyhow." And a little later Clemens himself replied: "You see, I am trying a new pen. I stood the stylograph as long as I coiild. Then retired to the pencil. The thing I am trying now is that fountain pen which is advertised to employ and accommodate itself to any kind of pen." Eighteen hundred and eighty was a presidential year. Mark Twain was for General Garfield and made a number of remarkable speeches in his favor. General Grant came to Hartford, in Garfield's be- half, and Clemens was selected to make the address of welcome. He began: I am among those deputed to welcome you to the sincere and cordial hospitalities of Hartford, the city of the historic and revered Charter Oak, of which most of the town is built. He pretended to be at a loss what to say next, and, leaning over, seemed to whisper to Grant. Then, as if he had been prompted by the great soldier, he 187 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN straightened up and poured out a fervent eulogy on Grant's achievements, adding in an aside, as he finished, "I nearly forgot that part of my speech," which evoked much laughter from the assembly and a grim smile from Grant. He then spoke of the general being now out of pubUc employment, and told how England had rewarded the Duke of Welling- ton with his title and four million dollars in cash. He said: If you had done and suffered for any other country what you have done and suffered for your own, you would have been affronted in the same sordid way. But, thank God, this vast and rich and mighty Republic is imbued to the core with a delicacy which will forever preserve her from so degrading you. . . . Your country stands ready from this day forth to testify her measureless love and pride and gratitude toward you in every conceivable inexpensive way. Grant's impressive smile showed itself more than once during the speech, and when the speaker reached the sentence that spoke of his country rewarding him inexpensively his composure broke up completely, while the spectators shouted their approval. Mark Twain saw a good deal of General Grant during these years, and more than once iirged him to write his memoirs for publication. Grant, how- ever, was not yet ready for this venture. He had no faith in his literary ability, and he was too modest to teU his story for print. XLII MANY PROSPECTS — BAC^ TO THE RIVER THERE was probably no period of Mark Twain's career that in later life he could look back upon with greater satisfaction than the one we have just recalled. He was forty-five years old, his work was highly successful, his income was large, he had a world-wide fame. If he could have been satisfied ' ' to go softly," to live life easily, he would have saved himself much storm and stress through future years. The trouble lay in the old human desire to improve his fortimes. Restlessly he embarked in enterprises that dazzled, but led only to disappointment — even disaster. Once he financed a steam generator which the in- ventor assured him would revolutionize manufac- turing. He invested a considerable sum in the idea, and bade it a permanent good-by. Following the steam generator came a steam pulley, which ex- tracted thirty-two thousand dollars from his bank account in a period of sixteen months. Twenty-five thousand dollars was the price of a marine telegraph, and about an equal siun disappeared in a watch- company flotation. These are only a few of his experiments. To recotmt all of them wotild be monotonous. They had one striking family resem- blance — ^none of them paid. At a time when he 189 A SHORT LIFE OF MARK TWAIN felt that he had bixmt his fingers sufl&ciently there happened along a young inventor named Alexander Graham Bell, offering stock in a contrivance for carrying the human voice on an electric wire. Clem- ens was polite but firm; he would have nothing to do with this new idea. Afterward he wrote: I said I didn't want it at any price. He became eager; in- sisted that I take five hundred dollars' worth. He said he wotdd sell as much as I wanted for five hundred dollars; offered to let me gather it up in my hands and measure it in a plug hat; said I could have a whole hatful for five hundred dollars. But I was a burnt child and I resisted all these temptations — resisted them easily. . . . Next day he lent a large part of his free cash to a friend, who promptly failed ; a little later he put the rest of it into an engraving process that cost him fifty thousand dollars before he was through with it. Once writing to his mother he said : Life has come to be a very serious matter with me. I have a badgered, harassed feeling a good part of my time. It comes mainly from business responsibility and annoyances. He had no moral right to be connected with busi- ness at all. He had a large perception of oppor- tunity, but none whatever of details. He was the soul of honor, but in anything resembling practical direction he was a child. During any period of business venture he was generally in hot water: worried, impatient, alternately suspicious and over- trusting — rash, frenzied, and altogether upset. By a statement made on the ist of January, 1882, we learn that his disbursements for the previous year were considerably more than a hundred thousand dollars. 190 "*"'■+ o^-r^UCi^ fi^^'^^a^- e»v,j