Archive for June, 2013

ABOUT MARK TWAIN: How He Was Forced to Lecture in Washington Without Warning [Evening Star, 27 June, 1896]

ES_1896.6.27 _ Evening star. pg 150001ABOUT MARK TWAIN

How He Was Forced to Lecture in Washington Without Warning.


Reminiscences of the Popular Author and Lecturer


Written for the Evening Star.

A book has recently been published, entitled “Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc,” by Mark Twain. Considering the facts that Joan lived and died in the early fifteenth century, and that Mark was born along toward the middle of the nineteenth century, thus requiring him to draw upon his meemory [sic] for narration of events personally observed by him about four and a half centuries before he was born, captious people might want to know the processes by which his mind had accomplished this fact. I do not belong to that faction. My faith is unlimited in anything Mark Twain may say or do.

A few years ago it was my good or ill fortune to be at the head of an executive office under the federal government in Washington. One day during a session of Congress, a slightly built, gray-haired man was ushered into my room, bearing a note of introduction from Senator Joseph R. Hawley of Connecticut. The man was Mark Twain. I was glad to meet him, and told him so, following the statement by another to the effect that something more than twenty years before I had listened with a good deal of delight to a lecture delivered by him in Washington on the subject of the “Sandwich Islands.”

An Unpremeditated Lecture

“Oh, yes,” said Twain, “I delivered such a lecture in this city, and the history of that production was peculiar. I came here at that time for rest and to visit some of my friends. Congress was in session and I expected to have a good time. I arrived in the city at night, and being tired did not care to leave the hotel for any purpose until morning.

“When I opened the daily paper next morning at breakfast, what was my amazement to see an announcement in the advertising columns that I would deliver a lecture that evening at the old Lincoln Hall on the subject of the Sandwich Islands. I had no such lecture on hand. Nobody had asked me to deliver such a lecture. Not a soul had spoken to me on the subject, nor had I spoken to anybody immediately or remotely hinting toward such a performance. To say that I was angry would imperfectly describe my mental condition. For once, language seemed too poor to enable me to do the subject justice. I longed to meet the miscreant or miscreants who had taken such liberties with my name. But the more I reflected on the subject, the more the embarrassments of the situation dawned upon me. Suppose I should make a public statement of the facts that he announcement of the lecture was without my authorization, knowledge or consent. Half the community would not believe me. The would think there was some advertising dodge in some way connected with it.

“As you may imagine, my appetite had disappeared, and my breakfast was left upon the table untasted. I wanted to find my unknown advertising agent. When I visited the hotel office I found huge posters upon the walls making the same announcement as was contained in the newspaper advertising columns, and that the whole town had been billed in a thorough manner.

Taking the Bull on the Horns

“By a careful series of inquiries I learned that an old personal friend of mine, whose libations sometimes led him into extravagancies and inconsistencies, had put up this job upon me, not through pique or malice, but in his exuberance at learning I was in the city, wanted to give a demonstration of his admiration for me. That explanation settled my fate. I saw I was in for it. I could not inform the public that the whole miserable business was the result of a drunken freak on the part of one of my personal friends. So I went to my room, denied myself to all visitors, and devoted that day to writing a lecture on the subject of the Sandwich Islands. What you heard on the night you spoke of was the result.”

The lecturer had no reason to be ashamed of the performance. He had a magnificent audience. Representatives and Senators, bureau and cabinet officers, citizens and strangers filled all the seats of the immense hall, and there was not even standing room in the aisles. “The Innocents Abroad” had been published only a short time before, and the public had been quick to recognize the fact which that work disclosed, that side by side with the quaintest wit there were specimens of rhetoric which marked the author as a master of English prose.

A Drag-Net Lecture

As may be supposed, the Sandwich Islands did not constitute the sole topic of that lecture. It was used as a sort of drag net to bring before the audience incidents and imageries which had been floating in the mind of the lecturer in his long experiences as a traveler at home and abroad. I called his attention to one illustration he used in the course of his lecture to show how mean human nature could sometimes be. He said: “In a mining district in California there was one day a miner engaged in preparing a charge for blasting rock. With tampering rod in hand he was tamping, tamping, tamping, but in an unlucky moment he gave one tamp too much. The charge exploded prematurely, and that miner shot up into the air like a cannon ball. At first he appeared to be about as big as bee, then about as big as a cat, then about as big as a small boy, then he landed on the same rock, the tamping rod entered the same old hole, and he commenced tamping, tamping, tamping. That man wasn’t gone more than fifteen minutes. But don’t you think that mining company wanted to dock the man for lost time.”

When Twain brought the note of introduction to me I supposed his chief purpose was probably to look through the institution then in my charge; but as our conversation progressed and heads of divisions and called from the Capitol dropped in on official business and were introduced to him, he became the center of a captivated group of listeners, who remained as long as they could hear him talk.

At a Chicago Banquet

At the time of his Lincoln Hall lecture in Washington, Mark Twain’s hair was black, and he stood at the front of the platform I thought he was a splendid specimen of young manhood. About ten years afterward I saw and heard him again at the banquet given in Chicago in honor of the return of Gen. Grant from a trip around the world. The occasion called together more military and literary celebrities than are likely to be seen again in one assemblage in a generation. Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Schofield, Logan and many other military officers less in rank were there; and among the gentlemen announced for speeches were Robert G. Ingersoll, Stewart L. Woodford, Emory A. Storrs, Leonard Swett, William F. Vilas and Mark Twain. It was nearly 3 o’clock in the morning when the toast to which Twain was to respond was read. Naturally, after a sitting of nearly nine hours at the banquetting board, interest in the proceedings might be expected to diminish, and speeches to pall upon the ear of hosts and guests. But when Twain mounted a table to respond to every face in the great dining hall was turned toward him. The subject of the toast was “Babies,” and from the beginning to the end of the response there was uproarious laughter. No speech of the many brilliant ones of that night compared with this. As I remember the event after a lapse of seventeen years, some of Twain’s sentences come to my remembrance. “If,” said he, “any young husband here thinks he is the head of his household and of consequences there, let him wait until the arrival of the first baby. His wisdom will then count for naught, his authority will be ignored, and he may consider himself fortunate if he is not driven in humiliation and disgrace to retirement in the back yard.” “One baby in the house is equal to a riot, and two babies he equivalent to an insurrection.” “Whatever any of you may ever do, let me beg of you never to indulge in an ambition for twins.”

At the time of this Grant banquet Twain’s hair had commenced to show threads of silver. When I saw him in my room in Washington, only a few months ago, his locks were white, and his face showed the wrinkles which time brings to all remorselessly. But his spirits were as elastic and his mind was as clear as in his young manhood. One of the most pathetic events in the history of this talented author is his loss of a fortune, honestly accumulated, and the necessity which is upon him in his old age of unceasing literary toil to lighten his burden of debt.


Evening Star, 27 June, 1896, p. 15


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“Mark Twain’s Washington Career” _ Daily Evening Bulletin (San Francisco) 21 Nov 1885, front

Daily Evening Bulletin (San Francisco) 21 Nov 1885, front _ Mark Twain's Washington Career _ Courtesy Library of Congress

Daily Evening Bulletin (San Francisco) 21 Nov 1885, front _ Mark Twain’s Washington Career _ Courtesy Library of Congress

I knew Mark Twain when he was a fellow Washington correspondent many years ago, before his “Innocents Abroad” brought him fame and fortune. I had opportunities to see his working habits then, and I hear that he has not materially changed them since. Mark was then writing letters for a California paper, while at the same time planning several gigantic works, as is the wont of beginners in the field of letters. His room was a perfect chaos, his table a curiosity in its way. One it could be seen anything – from soiled manuscript to old boots. He never laid his paper on he table when writing, partly because there was no available space, and partly because the position so necessitated was too much for his lazy bones. With both feet plunged in MSS., chair titled back and note-book and pencil in hand, he did all the writing I ever saw him do. An ordinary atmosphere would not suffice to set in motion the stream of Mark’s ideas. It must first be thoroughly saturated with the vilest tobacco smoke, which he puffed from a villainous pipe – said pipe having never received a cleaning – as many newspaper friends of those days can testify. He regarded this pipe as his salvation from boors, taking a ghastly light in puffing away like a locomotive when an undesirable visitor dropped in, and eagerly watching the paleness which gradually crept over the face of the enemy as the poisonous stuff got in its work. – Washington Letter.

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The Jumping Frog. By Mark Twain _ Daily Morning Chronicle ( Washington City), 22 Feb 1868

Daily Morning Chronicle, Saturday _ 2.23.2013 _ Twain Book _ The Jumping Frog

Daily Morning Chronicle, Saturday _ 2.22.2013 _ The Jumping Frog







The Great Exhibition, with Continental sketches & c. By H. P. Arnold. $2 25.

Cakes and Ale at Woodbine. By Barry Gray. $1 75.

Grandpa’s House. By Helen C. Weeks. $1 50

A French Country’s Family; translated from the French by the author of “John Halifax.”

$1 50.

The White Rose. By Melville $1 50.

Meline: Two Thousand Miles on Horse-back to Santa Fe and Back. $2

Another new novel by Louisa Muhlback,

Old Fritz and the New Era. 1 vol.; cloth $2, paper $1 50.

The Jumping Frog. By Mark Twain. $1 50

The Brownlows. By Mrs. Oliphant. 35 cents.

One of the Family; A Novel. 25 cents

Trail of John H. Suratt. Only official edition. 2 vols. law sheep. $7 50

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Notes & speculations on the known addresses of Mark Twain in Washington, DC during winter of 1867 – 1868

Library of Congress, A. Boschke, 1857

Library of Congress, A. Boschke, 1857

On February 21st, 1868 Mark Twain sent a letter to his family. Addressed from 224 F Street [NW], Twain advised in the heading to “(Keep your eye on the address).”

He opened the letter writing,

Dear Folks—

I was at 224 first— Stewart is there yet—I have moved five times since—shall move again, shortly. Shabby furniture & shabby food—that is Washn—I mean to keep moving.

In one of Twain’s first letters from Washington City he was apparently at “224 F, cor. 14th.” So, what’s the deal?

As an explanatory note for Twain’s 9 Feb 1868 letter to Mary Mason Fairbanks, which was addressed from 76 Indiana Avenue, the editors of the Mark Twain Project offer,

“Clemens had presumably just moved to this address, possibly from 356 C Street North, which he had given as the return address of his 15 January letter to Webb. It is also possible that he left the C Street address when he went to New York and Hartford in January, and then stayed again briefly with Senator Stewart at 224 F Street North upon his return to Washington. On 21 February he would tell his family that he had moved five times since leaving Stewart’s rooms, but only the C Street address and 76 Indiana Avenue—his current address—are known. Because he was moving frequently throughout this period, Clemens sometimes used 224 F Street for his return address, on the assumption that he could always collect his mail from Stewart, who still lived there.”

We know when Twain first arrived in Washington he stayed with William M. Stewart, United States Senator from Nevada, in a boarding house at the corner of 14th & F Streets NW.

It’s also possible that Twain crashed an evening or two in the office of the New York Tribune. In an 1883 article, Hiram J. Ramsdell recalled, “[Twain] made his headquarters at the Tribune Bureau, and was not always welcome, for he was never goodnatured [sic], and was sometimes absolutely offensive, so much so that the correspondents did not always like to see him about …”

1887 Hopkins Map _ Plate 19 _ 346 C Street _ between 4 1/2 and 6 Street

1887 Hopkins Map _ Plate 19 _ 346 C Street _ between 4 1/2 and 6 Street

With Twain’s city reporting as our evidence, not only did he haunt the Senate and House press galleries, but Twain also frequented the city courts. If he rested at “356 C bet. 4½ & 6th” [ED: Twain used this address at least once.] and “76 Indiana avenue” [ED: Twain used this address at least twice.] this explains his proximity to the city’s judicial system as the Police Court Building was just around the corner at 6th & D.

It appears that once Twain left from out the roof of Senator Stewart he spent his time in Washington City in and around this general area of City Hall. By his own admission, Twain stayed with a gang of journalists, “I roomed in a house which also sheltered George Alfred Townsend, Ramsdell, George Adams, and Riley, of the San Francisco Alta.” According to the 1869 City Directory, with the information having been gathered in 1868, Townsend stayed at “319 B St. north.”

Could this have been another of the pentamerous addresses that Twain mentions?

Writing in the Washington Post in 1979 Chalmers M. Roberts wrote about the legacy of the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and 4 1/2 Street:

“When the government moved to Washington in 1800, Congress met only a few months each year and the bulk of the members, and a good many government clerks as well, lived in boardinghouses along the avenue. In pre-Civil War decades, Elizabeth Peyton ran a “select boardinghouse” on what will be the [Canadian Embassy]. Among its boarders were Chief Justice John Marshal Henry Clay and John C. Calhoun. The building was remodeled, apparently around 1855, and beginning in 1869 became the Fritz Reuter’s restaurant and rathskeller. A 1901 Rueter ad boasted of “80 elegantly furnished rooms – 40 with bath – telephone in every room. Electric elevator.” And “table d’hote” cost 59 cents, “equal to any dollar table d’hote in America.”

George Rothwell Brown described Reuter’s as a “memorial to the small hot bird and the large cold bottle to terrapin, and to the broiled live lobster.” Reuter’s rival Harvey’s, on the south side of the avenue at 10th Street. Next door to Reuter’s stood the city telegraph office until 1869; in an upper room was the first office of the original Associated Press.

Across the street, between 4th and 7th Streets, where the National Gallery stands today, was an elegant gambling establishment called the Palace of Fortune. And in a third-floor room of another building lived Walt Whitman for a time in 1864. About when the Mellon Fountain is now, there once stood the St. James Hotel, earlier known as Bunker’s Hotel.”

It is clear that while Twain was in Washington City he did “keep moving.”

*This post is in response to a recent conversation with Donald T. Bliss, author of Mark Twain’s Tale of Today: Halley’s Comet Returns–The Celebrated Author Critiques American Politics.*

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Mark Twain to John Russell Young [4 Dec. 1867] “I am sorry to trouble you so much, but behold the world is full of sorrows ., & grief is the heritage of man.”

Twain had been trying to catch Young for a couple days without success. In closing he offered an apology of sorts saying, “I am sorry to trouble you so much, but behold the world is full of sorrows ., & grief is the heritage of man.

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Mark Twain to Frank Fuller [2 Dec. 1867] “If you know of any villainy here that has money in it, let me know.”

As an apparent postscript, “If you know of any villainy here that has money in it, let me know.”

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Daily Alta California “MARK TWAIN IN WASHINGTON” 11 Feb 1868

Thank you, David C. Mearns. Daily Alta California "MARK TWAIN IN WASHINGTON" 11 Feb 1868

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