cheerful; there was no grumbling. This is our first unseasonable hour
for getting up, but it has done us all good. Even Clara enjoyed the
unique experience. It revived her memory. She recollected that she had
telegraphed to Elmira to have her winter cloak expressed to Crookston.
Fortunately the agent was sleeping in the express office, near the
station. We disturbed his slumbers to find the great cloak, which was
another acquisition to our sixteen pieces of hand baggage. Our train was
forty-five minutes late. ‘Mark’ complained and grumbled; he persisted
that I had contracted with him to _travel_ and not to wait about railway
stations at five o’clock in the mornings for late trains that never
arrived. He insisted on travelling, so he got aboard the baggage truck
and I _travelled_ him up and down the platform, while Clara made a snap
shot as evidence that I was keeping to the letter of my contract.
[Illustration: KEEPING THE LETTER OF THE CONTRACT]
“When we boarded the train, we found five lower berths (which means five
sections) ready for us. There was a splendid dining car, with meals a la
carte, and excellent cooking. All the afternoon there were the level
prairies of North Dakota wheat just turning, the whole country a lovely
green; then came the arid plains, the prairie-dog towns, cactus, buffalo
grass, jack rabbits, wild life and the Missouri River--dear old friend
that had borne both of us on her muddy bosom many a time. It was a great
day for both ‘Mark’ and me. The ladies were enthusiastic in proportion
as they saw that ‘Mark’ and I were boys again, travelling upon ‘our
native heath.’
* * * * *
“Wednesday, July 31st, Great Falls, Montana.
“We arrived at the Park Hotel here at 7:30 A.M. after a good night’s
sleep. Interest grows more and more intense as we come nearer to the
Rocky Mountains. It brings back fond memories of other days. The two
Brothers Gibson, proprietors of the hotel, drove our party out to Giant
Spring, three miles distant. It is a giant, too. I never saw a more
beautiful or more wonderful spring. A big river fairly boils up out of
the ground, of the most beautiful deep peacock green color I ever saw in
clear water. The largest copper ore smelters in the world are here. The
Great Falls could supply power enough for all the machinery west of
Chicago, with some to spare.
“‘Mark’ is improving. For the first time since we started he appeared
about the hotel corridors and on the street. He and I walked about the
outskirts of the town, and I caught a number of interesting snapshots
among the Norwegian shanties. I got a good group including four
generations, with eight children, a calf and five cats. ‘Mark’ wanted a
photograph of each cat. He caught a pair of kittens in his arms, greatly
to the discomfort of their owner, a little girl. He tried to make
friends with the child and buy the kittens, but she began to cry and beg
that her pets might be liberated. He soon captured her with a pretty
story, and she finally consented to let them go. Few know ‘Mark’s’ great
love for cats, as well as for every living creature.
* * * * *
“Thursday, August 1st, Great Falls to Butte, Montana.
“We started at 7:35 A.M. All seem tired. The light air and the long
drive yesterday told very much on us all. ‘Mark’ had an off night and
was not at his best, which has almost broken his heart. He couldn’t get
over it all day. The Gibson Brothers have done much to make our visit
delightful, and it has proved very enjoyable indeed. Of course, being
proprietors of the hotel, they lose nothing, for I find they charge us
five dollars a day each, and the extortions from porters, baggagemen and
bellboys surpass anything I know of. The smallest money is two bits (25
cents) here--absurd!
* * * * *
“August 2d, Butte, Montana.
“We enter the Rocky Mountains through a cañon of the Upper Missouri; we
have climbed mountains all day, and at Butte are nearly 8,000 feet high.
It tells on me, but the others escape. The ladies declare it has been
one of the most interesting days of their lives, and ‘Mark’ has taken
great interest in everything, but kept from talking. After reaching the
hotel, he kept quiet in bed until he went to the hall. He more than made
up for last night’s disappointment and was at his best. I escorted Mrs.
Clemens and Clara to a box in the theatre, expecting to return
immediately to the hotel, but I found myself listening, and sat through
the lecture, enjoying every word. It actually seemed as if I had never
known him to be quite so good. He was great. The house was full and very
responsive.
“After the lecture many of his former Nevada friends came forward to
greet him. We went to a fine club, where champagne and stories blended
until twelve, much to the delight of many gentlemen. ‘Mark’ never drinks
champagne. His is hot Scotch, winter and summer, without any sugar, and
never before 11 p.m.
* * * * *
“Friday, August 2d.
“To-day ‘Mark’ and I went from Butte to Anaconda without the ladies. We
left the hotel at 4:30 by trolley car in order to have plenty of time to
reach the train, but we had gone only three blocks when the power gave
out and we could not move. It was twelve minutes to five and there was
no carriage in sight. We tried to get a grocery wagon, but the mean
owner refused to take us a quarter of a mile to the depot for less than
ten dollars. I told him to go to ----. I saw another grocery wagon near
by and told its owner I would pay any price to reach that train. ‘Mark’
and I mounted the seat with him. He laid the lash on his pair of
bronchos, and I think quicker time was never made to that depot. We
reached the train just as the conductor shouted ‘All aboard!’ and had
signalled the engineer. The train was moving as we jumped on. The driver
charged me a dollar, but I handed him two.
“At Anaconda we found a very fine hotel and several friends very
anxiously waiting to meet ‘Mark.’ Elaborate arrangements had been made
to lunch him and give him a lively day among his old mountain friends,
as he had been expected by the morning train. Fortunately he missed this
demonstration and was in good condition for the evening. He was
introduced by the mayor of the city in a witty address of welcome. Here
was our first small audience, where the local manager came out a trifle
the loser.
“A little incident connected with our experience here shows ‘Mark
Twain’s’ generosity. The local manager was a man who had known ‘Mark’ in
the sixties, and was very anxious to secure him for a lecture in
Anaconda. He, therefore, contracted to pay the price asked. Anaconda is
a small city, whose chief industry is a large smelting furnace. There
were not enough people interested in high-class entertainments to make
up a paying audience, and the manager was short about sixty dollars. I
took what he had, and _all_ he had, giving him a receipt in full. As
‘Mark’ and I were not equal partners, of course the larger share of the
loss fell to him. I explained the circumstances when we had our next
settlement at the end of the week, hoping for his approval.
“‘And you took the last cent that poor fellow had! Send him a hundred
dollars, and if you can’t afford to stand your share, charge it all to
me. I’m not going around robbing poor men who are disappointed in their
calculations as to my commercial value. I’m poor, and working to pay
debts that I never contracted; but I don’t want to get money in that
way.’
“I sent the money, and was glad of the privilege of standing my share.
The letter of acknowledgment from that man brought out the following
expression from ‘Mark’: ‘I wish that every hundred dollars I ever
invested had produced the same amount of happiness!’
“In Helena (August 3d) the people did not care for lectures. They all
liked ‘Mark’ and enjoyed meeting him, but there was no public enthusiasm
for the man that has made the early history of that mining country
romantic and famous all over the world. The Montana Club entertained him
grandly after the lecture, and he met many old friends and
acquaintances. Some of them had come all the way from Virginia City to
see their former comrade of the mining camps. One man, now very rich,
came from Virginia City, Nevada, on purpose to see ‘Mark’ and settle an
old score. When the glasses were filled and ‘Mark’s’ health proposed,
this man interrupted the proceedings by saying:
“‘Hold on a minute; before we go further I want to say to you, Sam
Clemens, that you did me a d----d dirty trick over there in Silver
City, and I’ve come here to have a settlement with you.’
“There was a deathly silence for a moment, when ‘Mark’ said in his
deliberate drawl:
“‘Let’s see. That--was--before--I--reformed, wasn’t--it?’
“Senator Sanders suggested that inasmuch as the other fellow had never
reformed, Clemens and all the others present forgive him and drink
together, which all did. Thus ‘the row was broken up before it
commenced’ (_Buck Fenshaw_)--and all was well. ‘Mark’ told stories until
after twelve. We walked from the club to the hotel up quite a mountain,
the first hard walk he has had. He stands the light air well, and is
getting strong.
* * * * *
“Sunday, August 4th, Helena.
“The dry burning sun makes life almost intolerable, so that there has
been hardly a soul on the streets all day. ‘Mark’ and I had a good time
at the Montana Club last night. He simply beats the world telling
stories, but we find some bright lights here. There were present Senator
Sanders, Major Maginnis, Hugh McQuade, A. J. Seligman, Judge Knowles, of
the United States Supreme Court, who introduced Mr. Beecher in Deer
Lodge and Butte in 1883; L. A. Walker, Dr. C. K. Cole, A. J. Steele, and
Frank L. Sizer. We have very heavy mails, but are all too tired to open
and read letters that are not absolutely necessary to be read.
“‘Mark’ lay around on the floor of his room all day reading and writing
in his notebook and smoking. In the gloaming Dr. Cole, with his
trotters, drove ‘Mark’ and Mrs. Clemens out to Broadwater, four miles.
The heat gave way to a delicious balmy breeze that reinvigorated
everybody. How delightful are these summer evenings in the Rocky
Mountains!
* * * * *
“Monday, August 5th, Missoula, Montana.
“Senator Sanders walked with ‘Mark’ to the station in Helena this
morning, while I accompanied the ladies in a carriage. Whom should we
meet walking the platform of the station but Mrs. Henry Ward Beecher, on
her way to visit her son Herbert in Port Townsend. It was a delightful
surprise. Senator Sanders at once recognized her, as in 1883 he joined
our party and drove from Helena (then the end of the eastern section of
the Northern Pacific Railroad) to Missoula, the eastern end of the
western division. We then drove in a carriage with four horses, via
Butte and Deer Lodge, and it took four days to make the journey. Senator
Sanders travelled the same distance in five hours with us to-day in a
Pullman car.
“At Missoula we all drove in a ‘bus’ to the Florence House, the ladies
inside and ‘Mark’ and I outside with the driver. Here we saw the first
sign of the decadence of the horse: a man riding a bicycle alongside the
bus, leading a horse to a nearby blacksmith shop. At ‘Mark’s’ suggestion
I caught a snapshot of that scene. Officers from Fort Missoula, four
miles out, had driven in with ambulances and an invitation from
Lieutenant-Colonel Burt, commandant, for our entire party to dine at the
fort. The ladies accepted. ‘Mark’ went to bed and I looked after the
business.
“We had a large audience in a small hall, the patrons being mainly
officers of the fort and their families. As most of the ladies who marry
army officers come from our best Eastern society, it was a gathering of
people who appreciated the occasion. After the lecture, the meeting took
the form of a social reception, and it was midnight before it broke up.
The day has been one of delight to all of us. As we leave at 2:30 P.M.
to-morrow, all have accepted an invitation to witness guard-mounting and
lunch early at the fort.
* * * * *
“August 7th.
“Two ambulances were sent to the hotel for our party and
Adjutant-General Ruggles, who is here on a tour of inspection. ‘Mark’
rose early and said he would walk to the fort slowly; he thought it
would do him good. General Ruggles and the ladies went in one ambulance
(the old four-mule army officers’ ambulance) and the other waited some
little time before starting, that I might complete arrangements for all
the party to go direct from the fort to the depot. I was the only
passenger riding with the driver, and enjoying the memory of like
experiences on the plains when in the army. We were about half way to
the fort when I discovered a man walking hurriedly toward us quite a
distance to the left. I was sure it was ‘Mark,’ and asked the driver to
slow up. In a minute I saw him signal us, and I asked the driver to turn
and drive toward him. We were on a level plain, and through that clear
mountain atmosphere one can see a great distance. We were not long in
reaching our man, much to his relief. He had walked out alone and taken
the wrong road, and after walking five or six miles on it, discovered
his mistake, and was countermarching when he saw our ambulance and ran
across lots to meet us. He _was_ tired--too tired to express
disgust--and sat quietly inside the ambulance until we drove up to
headquarters, where were a number of officers and ladies, besides our
party. As ‘Mark’ stepped out, a colored sergeant laid hands on him,
saying:
“‘Are you ‘Mark Twain’?
“‘I am,’ he replied.
“‘I have orders to arrest and take you to the guardhouse.’
“‘All right.’
“And the sergeant walked him across the parade ground to the guardhouse,
he not uttering a word of protest.
“Immediately Lieutenant-Colonel Burt and the ambulance hurried over to
relieve the prisoner. Colonel Burt very pleasantly asked ‘Mark’s’ pardon
for the practical joke and invited him to ride back to headquarters.
‘Mark’ said:
“Thanks, I prefer freedom, if you don’t mind. I’ll walk. I see you have
thorough discipline here,’ casting an approving eye toward the sergeant
who had him under arrest.
“The garrison consisted of seven companies of the Twenty-seventh United
States Colored Regiment. There was a military band of thirty pieces.
Guard mount was delayed for General Ruggles’ and our inspection. The
band played quite a programme, and all declared it one of the finest
military bands in America. We witnessed some fine drilling of the
soldiers, and learned that for this kind of service the colored soldiers
were more subordinate and submissive to rigid drill and discipline than
white men, and that there were very few desertions from among them.
“Attached to our train from Missoula station were two special cars,
bearing an excursion party consisting of the new receiver of the
Northern Pacific Railroad and his friends, one of whom we were told was
the United States Supreme Court Judge who had appointed this receiver.
An invitation was sent in to ‘Mark’ to ride in their car, but as it came
for him alone and did not include the ladies, he declined.
“It was an enjoyable ride to Spokane, where we arrived at 11:30, and put
up at the Spokane House, the largest hotel I ever saw. It was a large
commercial building, covering an entire block, revamped into a hotel. A
whole store was diverted into one bedroom, and nicely furnished, too.
Reporters were in waiting to interview the distinguished guest. ‘Mark’
is gaining strength and is enjoying everything, so the interviewers had
a good time.
“We spent all day, August 8th, in Spokane. The hotel was full. The new
receiver and his gay party are also spending the day here, but all leave
just before the time set for the lecture.
“In the forenoon ‘Mark’ and I walked about this remarkable city, with
its asphalt streets, electric lights, nine-story telegraph poles, and
commercial blocks that would do credit to any Eastern city. There were
buildings ten stories high, with the nine top stories empty, and there
were many fine stores with great plate-glass fronts, marked ‘To Rent.’
In the afternoon our entire party drove about the city in an open
carriage. Our driver pointed out some beautiful suburban residences and
told us who occupied them.
“‘That house,’ he said, as we drove by a palatial establishment, ‘is
where Mr. Brown lives. He is receiver for the Spokane Bank, which failed
last year for over $2,000,000. You all know about that big failure, of
course. The receiver lives there.’
“Pointing out another house, he said: ‘That man living up in that big
house is receiver for the Great Falls Company. It failed for nearly a
million. The president and directors of that company are most all in the
State prison. And this yere house that we are coming to now is where the
receiver of the Washington Gas and Water Company lives,’ etc.
“‘Mark’ said to the ladies: ‘If I had a son to send West, I would
educate him for a receiver. It seems to be about the only thriving
industry.’
“We found here a magnificent new theatre--the Opera House. It has cost
over $200,000 and was never yet a quarter filled. The manager was
greatly disappointed at the receipts for the lecture; he had counted on
a full house. Where he expected the people to come from I don’t know.
The receipts were not much better than in Missoula. ‘Mark’ didn’t enjoy
it, and manifested no delicacy in so expressing himself.
“As we have a day here, the ladies have overhauled and repacked their
trunks. I think there is no occupation that has the fascination for
women when travelling as the unpacking and overhauling of large
travelling trunks. They go at it early, miss their luncheon, and are
late to dinner, and yet show no signs of fatigue.
“There was another incident here. Our ladies dressed their best for
dinner, and outshone the receiver’s excursionists, who occupied most of
the great dining hall. ‘Mark’ didn’t see it, as he never comes down to
dinner. I know I saw it, and enjoyed a feeling of pride. I just felt and
knew I was envied by the men at the other tables. Clara Clemens is a
beautiful girl. As we passed out of the dining room into the great
parlor, she sat down to the Chickering grand piano and began playing a
Chopin nocturne. It was in the gloaming. Stealthily guests came in from
dinner and sat breathlessly in remote parts of the boundless room
listening to a performance that would have done credit to any great
pianist. Never have I witnessed a more beautiful sight than this sweet
brunette unconsciously holding a large audience of charmed listeners. If
it was not one of the supreme moments of her mother’s life, who saw and
heard her, then I have guessed wrong. It was an incident forever fixed
in my memory.
“That night at 11:30 we went aboard the sleeper on the Great Northern
Road. Everything was in readiness for us. The next day was one full of
interest as we rode over the Rockies on the zigzag road, travelling over
thirty miles to make seven. ‘Mark’ rode on the engine, greatly to the
delight of the engineer.
“We transferred at Seattle to the little ‘Greyhound of Puget
Sound’--_The Flyer_--said to be the fastest steamer in the world. ‘Mark’
sat on the deck of _The Flyer_ watching the baggage-smashers removing
our trunks from the baggage car to the truck which was to convey them to
_The Flyer_, and exclaimed: ‘Oh, how I do wish one of those trunks were
filled with dynamite and that all the baggage-destroyers on earth were
gathered about it, and I just far enough off to see them hurled into
Kingdom Come!’
“We arrived in Tacoma at five o’clock, and have sumptuous apartments at
The Tacoma, a grand caravansery built by the Northern Pacific Railroad
Company. The ‘receiver’ is an old friend of mine, formerly a contractor
on the Northern Pacific Railroad. I also found another old friend in C.
H. Prescott--one of the prosperous. He is local ‘receiver’ of the
Northern Pacific Railroad, the highest distinction a man can attain out
here. This is another overgrown metropolis. We can’t see it, nor
anything else, owing to the dense smoke everywhere.
“Here in Tacoma the ladies are to remain and rest, while ‘Mark’ and I
take in Portland and Olympia.
* * * * *
“Friday, August 9th, Portland, Oregon.
“At Tacoma early this morning Mr. S. E. Moffett, of the San Francisco
_Examiner_, appeared. He is ‘Mark’s’ nephew and resembles his uncle very
much. On his arrival ‘Mark’ took occasion to blaspheme for a few
minutes, that his relative might realize that men are not all alike. He
cursed the journey, the fatigues and annoyances, winding up by
acknowledging that if everything had been made and arranged by the
Almighty for the occasion, it could not have been better or more
comfortable, but he ‘was not travelling for pleasure,’ etc.
“He and I reached Portland on time, 8:22, and found the Marquam Grand
packed with a waiting audience and the sign ‘Standing Room Only’ out.
The lecture was a grand success. After it ‘Mark’s’ friend, Colonel Wood,
formerly of the United States army, gave a supper at the Portland Club,
where about two dozen of the leading men were entertained for two hours
with ‘Mark’s’ story-telling. They will remember that evening as long as
they live. There is surely but one ‘Mark Twain.’
* * * * *
“Saturday, August 10th, Portland to Olympia.
“Smoke, smoke, smoke! It was not easy to tear ourselves away from
Portland so early. _The Oregonian_ contains one of the best notices that
‘Mark’ has had. He is pleased with it, and is very jolly to-day.
“We left for Olympia at eleven o’clock, via Northern Pacific Railroad.
Somehow ‘Mark’ seems to grow greater from day to day. Each time it
seemed as though his entertainment had reached perfection, but last
night surpassed all. A gentleman on the train, a physician from
Portland, said that no man ever left a better impression on a Portland
audience; that ‘Mark Twain’ was the theme on the streets and in all
business places. A young reporter for _The Oregonian_ met ‘Mark’ as he
was boarding the train for Olympia, and had probably five minutes’ talk
with him. He wrote a two-column interview which ‘Mark’ declared was the
most accurate and the best that had ever been reported of him.
“On the train a bevy of young ladies ventured to introduce themselves to
him, and he entertained them all the way to Olympia, where a delegation
of leading citizens met us, headed by John Miller Murphy, editor of the
oldest paper in Washington. They met us outside the city, in order that
we might enjoy a ride on a new trolley car through the town. As ‘Mark’
stepped from the train, Mr. Miller said:
“‘Mr. Twain, as chairman of the reception committee, allow me to welcome
you to the capital of the youngest and most picturesque State in the
Union. I am sorry the smoke is so dense that you cannot see our
mountains and our forests, which are now on fire.’
“‘Mark’ said: ‘I regret to see--I mean to learn (I can’t see, of course,
for the smoke) that your magnificent forests are being destroyed by
fire. As for the smoke, I do not so much mind. I am accustomed to that.
I am a perpetual smoker myself.’
* * * * *
“Monday, August 12th, Tacoma, Wash.--The Tacoma.
“I had trouble in settling at the Opera House; the manager is a scamp. I
expected trouble, and I had it.
“The Tacoma Press Club gave ‘Mark’ a reception in their rooms after the
lecture, which proved to be a very bright affair. ‘Mark’ is finding out
that he has found his friends by the loss of his fortune. People are
constantly meeting him on the street, at halls, and in hotels, and
telling him of the happiness he has brought them--old and young alike.
He seems as fresh to the rising generation as he is dear to older
friends. Here we met Lieutenant-Commander Wadhams, who is executive
officer of the _Mohican_, now in Seattle harbor. He has invited us all
on board the man-of-war to dine to-morrow, and we have all accepted.
“‘Mark’ had a great audience in Seattle the next evening. The sign
‘Standing Room Only’ was out again. He was hoarse, but the hoarseness
seemed to augment the volume of his voice. After the lecture he met many
of his friends and admirers at the Rainier Club. Surely he _is_ finding
out that his misfortunes are his blessings. He has been the means of
more real pleasure to his readers and hearers than he ever could have
imagined had not this opportunity presented itself.
* * * * *
“Wednesday, August 14th, Seattle to Whatcom.