EARLY LETTERS, 1853.NEW YORK AND PHILADELPHIAWe have no record of Mark Twain's earliest letters.Very likely they were soiled pencil notes, written to some school sweetheart--to "Becky Thatcher," perhaps--and tossed across at lucky moments, or otherwise, with happy or disastrous results.One of those smudgy, much-folded school notes of the Tom Sawyer period would be priceless to-day, and somewhere among forgotten keepsakes it may exist, but we shall not be likely to find it.No letter of his boyhood, no scrap of his earlier writing, has come to light except his penciled name, SAM CLEMENS, laboriously inscribed on the inside of a small worn purse that once held his meager, almost non-existent wealth.He became a printer's apprentice at twelve, but as he received no salary, the need of a purse could not have been urgent.
He must have carried it pretty steadily, however, from its appearance--as a kind of symbol of hope, maybe--a token of that Sellers-optimism which dominated his early life, and was never entirely subdued.
No other writing of any kind has been preserved from Sam Clemens's boyhood, none from that period of his youth when he had served his apprenticeship and was a capable printer on his brother's paper, a contributor to it when occasion served.Letters and manuscripts of those days have vanished--even his contributions in printed form are unobtainable.It is not believed that a single number of Orion Clemens's paper, the Hannibal Journal, exists to-day.
It was not until he was seventeen years old that Sam Clemens wrote a letter any portion of which has survived.He was no longer in Hannibal.Orion's unprosperous enterprise did not satisfy him.
His wish to earn money and to see the world had carried him first to St.Louis, where his sister Pamela was living, then to New York City, where a World's Fair in a Crystal Palace was in progress.
The letter tells of a visit to this great exhibition.It is not complete, and the fragment bears no date, but it was written during the summer of 1853.
Fragment of a letter from Sam L.Clemens to his sister Pamela Moffett, in St.Louis, summer of 1853:
...From the gallery (second floor) you have a glorious sight--the flags of the different countries represented, the lofty dome, glittering jewelry, gaudy tapestry, &c., with the busy crowd passing to and fro--tis a perfect fairy palace--beautiful beyond description.
The Machinery department is on the main floor, but I cannot enumerate any of it on account of the lateness of the hour (past 8 o'clock.) It would take more than a week to examine everything on exhibition; and as I was only in a little over two hours tonight, I only glanced at about one-third of the articles; and having a poor memory; I have enumerated scarcely any of even the principal objects.The visitors to the Palace average 6,000 daily--double the population of Hannibal.The price of admission being 50 cents, they take in about $3,000.
The Latting Observatory (height about 280 feet) is near the Palace--from it you can obtain a grand view of the city and the country round.The Croton Aqueduct, to supply the city with water, is the greatest wonder yet.Immense sewers are laid across the bed of the Hudson River, and pass through the country to Westchester county, where a whole river is turned from its course, and brought to New York.From the reservoir in the city to the Westchester county reservoir, the distance is thirty-eight miles! and if necessary, they could supply every family in New York with one hundred barrels of water per day!
I am very sorry to learn that Henry has been sick.He ought to go to the country and take exercise; for he is not half so healthy as Ma thinks he is.If he had my walking to do, he would be another boy entirely.Four times every day I walk a little over one mile; and working hard all day, and walking four miles, is exercise--I am used to it, now, though, and it is no trouble.Where is it Orion's going to? Tell Ma my promises are faithfully kept, and if I have my health I will take her to Ky.in the spring--I shall save money for this.Tell Jim and all the rest of them to write, and give me all the news.I am sorry to hear such bad news from Will and Captain Bowen.I shall write to Will soon.The Chatham-square Post Office and the Broadway office too, are out of my way, and Ialways go to the General Post Office; so you must write the direction of my letters plain, "New York City, N.Y.," without giving the street or anything of the kind, or they may go to some of the other offices.(It has just struck 2 A.M.and I always get up at 6, and am at work at 7.)You ask me where I spend my evenings.Where would you suppose, with a free printers' library containing more than 4,000 volumes within a quarter of a mile of me, and nobody at home to talk to? I shall write to Ella soon.Write soon Truly your Brother SAM.
P.S.I have written this by a light so dim that you nor Ma could not read by it.
He was lodging in a mechanics' cheap boarding-house in Duane Street, and we may imagine the bareness of his room, the feeble poverty of his lamp.
"Tell Ma my promises are faithfully kept." It was the day when he had left Hannibal.His mother, Jane Clemens, a resolute, wiry woman of forty-nine, had put together his few belongings.Then, holding up a little Testament:
"I want you to take hold of the end of this, Sam," she said, "and make me a promise.I want you to repeat after me these words:
'I do solemnly swear that I will not throw a card, or drink a drop of liquor while I am gone.'"It was this oath, repeated after her, that he was keeping faithfully.The Will Bowen mentioned is a former playmate, one of Tom Sawyer's outlaw band.He had gone on the river to learn piloting with an elder brother, the "Captain." What the bad news was is no longer remembered, but it could not have been very serious, for the Bowen boys remained on the river for many years.