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Mark Twain’s TA H O E A DV E N T U R E S , PA R T I I I BY M A R K M c L AU G H L I N
T
he adventures of American writer Sam Clemens (Mark Twain) in Nevada Territory 160 years ago are replete with controversy and cross-purpose narratives. Even factual accounts among his contemporaries are filled with contradictions and distortion. Like the dispute regarding where Clemens camped and worked a timber claim at Lake Tahoe in 1861 (mentioned in Part 1), utilizing Twain’s and other’s books, comments and writings as definitive sources of information is often problematic. Pioneer Nevada newspaperman Sam P. Davis believed it was Twain’s satirical letter mocking the ego and vanity of Nevada’s chief justice that got him a job writing for the Virginia City Territorial Enterprise. In contrast, a 1973 Mark Twain Journal article suggests that it was the parody of a July 4, 1862, celebration speech that Twain had written for the mayor of Aurora that gained him a role on the Enterprise staff. Either way editor, Joe Goodman was delighted to publish Twain’s early work. Goodman had assembled a talented bunch of scribes for his popular Comstock newspaper, a group often called the Sagebrush Bohemians. There are also two schools of thought as to the origin of Clemens’ now-famous pseudonym Mark Twain. That nom de plume was not his first. While writing articles for his brother Orion’s newspaper in Missouri during the 1850s, he used a variety of amusing pen names. In 1859, in his role as substitute editor for Orion, who was out of town, Clemens signed one sketch “W. Epaminondas Adrastus Perkins.” Other silly aliases followed including Thomas Jefferson Snodgrass, Quintius Curtius Snodgrass and then Josh, as he began his literary career in Nevada Territory in 1862. Clemens adopted the pen name Mark Twain while working as a reporter and city editor for the Territorial Enterprise. How that came about is still muddy water. In an 1859 satirical sketch, Clemens wrote about a pompous veteran riverboat pilot named Isaiah Sellers. At the time, a Captain Sellers allegedly wrote a popular column that chronicled his astute observations of the Mississippi River that was published in the New Orleans Daily Picayune. Apparently, Clemens was not impressed with Sellers as a pilot, but later remarked that he did admire the pseudonym Sellers used as the author — Mark Twain. In riverboat parlance, the nautical term “mark twain” refers to the water’s depth. “By the mark twain” means that water is two fathoms deep (12 feet) and is safe for a steamship to pass. But Twain aficionados in Nevada prefer a different version of how Clemens’ acquired the name. Territorial Enterprise newspaper staff regularly enjoyed restorative libations at John Piper’s Corner Saloon in Virginia City. Ostensibly, editor Goodman liked to point out that when Clemens sported for a drink with fellow Comstock writer Alf Doten, he would tell the bartender to “mark twain” on the chalkboard, thereby adding two drinks to his account. The name stuck. 18
Twain’s attacks hit a raw nerve. In retaliation, James Laird, editor of the Union, called Twain a “vulgar liar.” Twain retorted: “I denounce Laird as an unmitigated liar.” He then sent a personal note to Laird; “If you do not wish yourself posted as a coward, you will at once accept my peremptory challenge.” Suddenly the newsprint warfare had escalated into the challenge of a duel, with loaded pistols, not empty words. Fortunately for Twain, the duels never materialized as Nevada had recently passed a law making it a felony to send or accept a challenge to a duel. Threatened with a possible arrest, Twain quietly stole away from Nevada Territory and made his way to San Francisco.
Read Parts I and II at TheTahoeWeekly.com
Mark Twain. | Courtesy Library of Congress
Fodder for Twain’s acerbic commentaries and character deprecation was everywhere. Hordes of miners, gamblers, toughs and prostitutes made for a colorful social dynamic. Principal leisure activities were
“The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter — ‘tis the difference between the lightning-bug and the lightning.” –Mark Twain smoky pool halls, boisterous saloons and bawdy brothels all lit up at night like a carnival. The vibrant excitement and wild recklessness suited Twain fine. His years as a riverboat pilot had developed discipline and toughened him, while the Comstock’s robust lifestyle fed his feisty spirit. During the early 1860s, Virginia City was known for its freedom from conventional manners and strong appreciation for jokes and pranks. Twain pushed the limits of journalism by teasing and mocking individuals and writing biting satires of human behavior and local institutions.
When questioned about his writing style, he stated: “The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter — ‘tis the difference between the lightning-bug and the lightning.” The end of Twain’s career in Nevada came suddenly. The American Civil War was raging and like most communities in the United States, the Comstock was rife with conflicting patriotic emotions. In May 1864, Joe Goodman was away and Twain was acting as editor of the paper. Clemens’ alter-ego had grown mightily since his miserable mining days and his over-the-top antics nearly involved him in several duels with angry adversaries. Twain alleged that money raised by prominent Carson City women for the Sanitary Commission Fund (the forerunner of the American Red Cross) was being diverted, thus provoking one husband to demand a duel with the accuser. Twain then questioned whether the staff of the rival Virginia Daily Union newspaper would honor their pledges in donating money to the commission. Money collected by the commission was earmarked for medical supplies for wounded Union soldiers.
In March 1866, Twain sailed for the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii) and on his return became an established literary figure and celebrity lecturer. When Twain revisited his old Comstock stomping grounds in November 1866, all was forgiven. Thousands came to hear his entertaining lectures. After his last presentation in Gold Hill, Twain and his literary agent, Dennis McCarthy, walked back to Virginia City. In the darkness they were robbed by five highwaymen. The bandits stole $125 and Twain’s favorite gold watch, which was worth about $300. Twain was livid, but he put an advertisement in the morning paper offering to negotiate for the watch. He received no response. Two days later he boarded the Pioneer Stage for his return to San Francisco via the Donner Lake route. Just as the stagecoach was about to leave, however, a small package was handed to the sullen celebrity. In it he found his watch and money. He also discovered the five masks that the “highwaymen” had worn that night. And then the robbers themselves revealed their identities by shaking Twain’s hand. They were old friends from the Virginia City days, but Twain, the prankster, could not take the joke, and everyone could hear him yelling profanities as the coach rolled out of sight. Such was Mark Twain’s exit from the Silver State. Tahoe historian Mark McLaughlin is a nationally published author and professional speaker. His award-winning books are available at local stores or at thestormking.com. You may reach him at mark@thestormking.com.
