I INTRODUCE JACK LONDON TO YALE
The last piece of work in New Haven was a master stroke. It was an
inoculation. Jack London was in the East and I persuaded him to pay
the comrades in New Haven a visit and make a speech. The theatres were
all engaged, so were the halls.
The new Y.M.C.A. hall could not be rented--for London. There was only
one hope left--Yale. I knew a student who was a Socialist. We outlined
a plan. London was a literary man; Yale had probably heard of him. The
Yale Union was canvassed. It was a Freshman debating society.
Certainly; they had read London's books--"The Call of the Wild," "The
Sea Wolf," etc.
"Well now, boys, here's your chance. Jack London can be had for a
lecture."
The Union had no money and Woolsey Hall cost fifty dollars. "That's
easy," I suggested, though I didn't have fifty cents at the time. That
seemed fine. "Of course," I said, as I remembered the empty Socialist
treasury, "we'll have to charge an admission fee of ten cents." That,
too, was all right. In case of frost or failure I promised to make
good so that the Union would have no responsibility. I meekly
suggested that as compensation for "risk involved" I would take the
surplus--if there was any.
"They say Jack London is Socialistically inclined, Doctor," said the
youthful president of the Yale Union.
"Yes, he is, rather," I answered.
"Well," he added, "I suppose we will have to take our chances." The
chances seemed small then; they loomed up larger later.
He hoped President Hadley would not interfere with him.
"Will you introduce him, Doctor?"
"Certainly."
"What's his topic?"
"He calls it 'The Coming Crisis.'"
"Social, I suppose, eh?"
"Yes, it's a suggested remedy for a lot of our troubles."
The Socialist student had a few rounds with Lee McClung, the Yale
treasurer. "Mac" didn't know Irvine from a gate-post but took Billy
Phelps's word for it that London was a literary man and let it go at
that--let the hall go, I mean.
"Yale," said the brilliant Phelps, "is a university, and not a
monastery; besides, Jack London is one of the most distinguished men
in America."
When it was decided we could have the hall the advertising began.
Streets, shops and factories were bombarded with printed
announcements. Next morning--the morning after securing the hall--Yale
official and unofficial awoke to find tacked to every tree on the
campus the inscription, "Jack London at Woolsey Hall."
Max Dellfant painted a flaming poster that gripped men by the eyes. In
it London appeared in a red sweater and in the background the lurid
glare of a great conflagration. Yale and New Haven had never been so
thoroughly informed on such short notice. The information was in red
letters.
The first thing done was to run down the officers of the Yale Union.
They had previously run each other down. The boys were thoroughly
scared, explanations were in order all around.
The wiseacres of Yale got busy and the new Yale took a hand also.
Professor Charles Foster Kent--the Henry Drummond of Yale--and
Professor William Lyon Phelps counselled a square deal and fair play.
The Yale Union had a stormy meeting. A real sensation was on their
hands; there was possible censure and probable glory and every man in
the Union went after his share.
It was indignantly moved and carried that the president of the Union
introduce the speaker.
"Irvine is a Socialist," the mover said, "and would spoil the show
before it began."
[Illustration: Alexander Irvine and Jack London, 1906]
They next discussed the topic. One boy suggested that London be asked
to cut out all mention of Socialism. That was tabooed because no one
knew that he would mention it anyway.
The day of the lecture I got this note from the Socialist student:
"Yale Union and many of the faculty are sweating under the collar for
fear London _might_ say something Socialistic. The Union realizes that
it would be absolutely useless to ask him to smooth over his lecture
and cut out anything which sounds radical. Also they have decided that
it would be a shock to the university and the public to have _you_
appear upon the platform in any way, shape or manner. They are going
to ask you to cancel your engagement to introduce London. In this I
think they are unwise, but as they are determined it must be so. I
advise you to agree to whatever arrangement they suggest. This done,
they will 'take the chances' that London will express Socialistic
ideas. Now I fear there will be the devil to pay for the lecture--the
university is going to be surprised, the faculty shocked beyond
measure and the Yale Union severely criticized!"
This is how the president of the Union expressed the situation in a
note to me on the day of the lecture. "At a meeting of the executive
committee of the Yale Union it was voted that the president of the
Union introduce the speaker of the evening as it would tend to
identify the Union more conspicuously and also to give it prominence
before the student body. For this reason--wholly beyond my power and
opposed to my opinion--I shall be forced to forego our little plan
which I thought by far the best," etc., etc.
Some small portion of prosperity having come our way I was able to
dine a small group with Jack London as the chief guest. Professor
Charles Foster Kent of Yale, and Charles W. De Forrest, a business
man, were among the guests.
It was a Socialist innings at Woolsey Hall that night. The big crowd
gave the Yale Union an idea--this time it was a financial
idea--twenty-eight hundred people paid admission--the officers swept
down on the box office; but there was a Socialist inside playing
capitalist. Socialists are not familiar enough with the game to play
it successfully, but in this instance we played in strict accordance
with the rules. We furnished the capital, took the risks and bagged
the pot! We conceded nine points out of ten--the tenth was a financial
one. The audience represented every phase of life in the city. Over a
hundred of the faculty and ten times as many students. Citizens of all
classes were there.
The Harvard Students had played horse with London a few weeks before
this and we--the Socialists--were prepared for any sort of
demonstration.
"The spectacle of an avowed Socialist," said the New Haven
_Register_, "one of the most conspicious in the country, standing upon
the platform of Woolsey Hall and boldly advocating the doctrines of
revolution was a sight for gods and men."
Jack London talked for over two hours to that packed hall and received
a most unusual attention. After the lecture he was taken to a
students' dormitory where he answered questions till midnight. Then he
was escorted by a smaller group to Mory's for supper and at one
o'clock we held a reception at the big house which was known as "the
Socialist Parsonage."
For over twenty years I have been a contributor to newspapers and
religious periodicals, but not until I met Jack London did it ever
occur to me that I could earn a living by my pen. London made me
promise to write. My first story I mailed to California for his
criticism and suggestion, but before it returned I had entered the
field.