Twains Letters vol 2 1867-1875 | Page 9

swinging trot and at daylight
took a caleche (a wheeled vehicle) and rode 5 hours--then took cars and
traveled till twelve at night. That landed us at Seville and we were over
the hard part of our trip, and somewhat tired. Since then we have taken
things comparatively easy, drifting around from one town to another
and attracting a good deal of attention, for I guess strangers do not
wander through Andalusia and the other Southern provinces of Spain
often. The country is precisely as it was when Don Quixote and Sancho
Panza were possible characters.
But I see now what the glory of Spain must have been when it was
under Moorish domination. No, I will not say that, but then when one is
carried away, infatuated, entranced, with the wonders of the Alhambra
and the supernatural beauty of the Alcazar, he is apt to overflow with
admiration for the splendid intellects that created them.
I cannot write now. I am only dropping a line to let you know I am well.
The ship will call for us here tomorrow. We may stop at Lisbon, and
shall at the Bermudas, and will arrive in New York ten days after this
letter gets there. SAM.
This is the last personal letter written during that famous first
sea-gipsying, and reading it our regret grows that he did not put
something of his Spanish excursion into his book. He never returned to
Spain, and he never wrote of it. Only the barest mention of "seven
beautiful days" is found in The Innocents Abroad.

VIII.
LETTERS 1867-68. WASHINGTON AND SAN FRANCISCO. THE
PROPOSED BOOK OF TRAVEL. A NEW LECTURE
From Mark Twain's home letters we get several important side-lights
on this first famous book. We learn, for in stance, that it was he who
drafted the ship address to the Emperor--the opening lines of which
became so wearisome when repeated by the sailors. Furthermore, we
learn something of the scope and extent of his newspaper
correspondence, which must have kept him furiously busy, done as it
was in the midst of super-heated and continuous sight- seeing. He
wrote fifty three letters to the Alta-California, six to the New York
Tribune, and at least two to the New York Herald more than sixty, all
told, of an average, length of three to four thousand words each. Mark
Twain always claimed to be a lazy man, and certainly he was likely to
avoid an undertaking not suited to his gifts, but he had energy in
abundance for work in his chosen field. To have piled up a
correspondence of that size in the time, and under the circumstances
already noted, quality considered, may be counted a record in the
history of travel letters.
They made him famous. Arriving in New York, November 19, 1867,
Mark Twain found himself no longer unknown to the metropolis, or to
any portion of America. Papers East and West had copied his Alta and
Tribune letters and carried his name into every corner of the States and
Territories. He had preached a new gospel in travel literature, the
gospel of frankness and sincerity that Americans could understand.
Also his literary powers had awakened at last. His work was no longer
trivial, crude, and showy; it was full of dignity, beauty, and power; his
humor was finer, worthier. The difference in quality between the
Quaker City letters and those written from the Sandwich Islands only a
year before can scarcely be measured.
He did not remain in New York, but went down to Washington, where
he had arranged for a private secretaryship with Senator William M.
Stewart,--[The "Bill" Stewart mentioned in the preceding chapter.]
whom he had known in Nevada. Such a position he believed would
make but little demand upon his time, and would afford him an insight
into Washington life, which he could make valuable in the shape of
newspaper correspondence.

But fate had other plans for him. He presently received the following
letter:
From Elisha Bliss, Jr., in Hartford OFFICE OF THE AMERICAN
PUBLISHING COMPANY.
HARTFORD, CONN, Nov 21, 1867. SAMUEL L. CLEMENS Esq.
Tribune Office, New York.
DR. SIR,--We take the liberty to address you this, in place of a letter
which we had recently written and was about to forward to you, not
knowing your arrival home was expected so soon. We are desirous of
obtaining from you a work of some kind, perhaps compiled from your
letters from the East, &c., with such interesting additions as may be
proper. We are the publishers of A. D. Richardson's works, and flatter
ourselves that we can give an author as favorable terms and do as full
justice to his productions as any other house in the country. We are
perhaps the oldest subscription house in the country, and have