[Dan DeQuille, Artemus Ward in Nevada, The Californian Illustrated Magazine, August 1893]

 

ARTEMUS WARD IN NEVADA.

BY DAN DE QUILLE.

            IN 1863, the Comstock mines of Nevada were in the full swing of their youthful prosperity. Already Virginia City contained about 12,000 inhabitants when, staging it over the mountains by the old Placerville route, Artemus Ward arrived under an engagement to deliver his famous lecture entitled the " Babes in the Wood "— a lecture in which not the slightest reference was made to the "poor innocents " that wandered in the wood till death did end their grief."

            Artemus had been lecturing in San Francisco, and other places in California, and expectation was on tip-toe when he arrived in Virginia City. He was "hail, fellow, well met" with every one the moment he reached town. All had so often read and laughed over the letters and sketches of the proprietor of the Great Moral Show that when he appeared on the Comstock he was greeted as an old acquaintance.

            Ward was then in fine health and spirits. Everything he saw called forth a joke or a quaint saying. His drollery was without effort. His fun like the quality of mercy was not strained. It was natural to him to see the comical side of everything. He teemed with waggery which on the slightest provocation expanded into a surprising flow of facetiousness—into a merry, sportive string of pleasantries. There was nothing malicious in his fun, and he harbored no feeling of

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resentment when he himself was the victim. Even when that poor old "chestnut" of "an oat" being in waiting for him at a certain place was played off on him he did not lose his temper. He said it merely made him feel sad, as it detracted from the "high opinion he had formed of the wit and originality of the Comstockers." Said he, " I could weep for the poor man."

            Artemus remained in Virginia City about a week, spending much of his leisure time in the editorial rooms of the Enterprise. It devolved upon Mark Twain and myself to show him the silver mines and the wonders of the town; a very agreeable task, as the novelty of many sights and situations aroused in his soul the spirit of the "wax figger " man, and drew from him whole trains of witty remarks. He was as much at home among the miners a thousand feet below the light of day, as on the surface among the people on the street. The talk of the miners amused him and he treasured up all the mining terms and phrases he heard, asking the meaning of them as he jotted them down. " These are the things," he would say, " that give the life touches to a sketch." He made no elaborate notes. I never saw him write to exceed half a dozen words at any one time. "A line," said he, " if you can hit the right thing, will give as good an idea of a place as whole pages. "

            The serious manner and solemn face assumed by Artemus Ward added not a little to the fun of his impromptu "quaints." A stranger would gaze at the man for a moment in blank amazement. Then the oddity of the thing would prove too much for him and he would be obliged to " let go all holds " and indulge in a regular explosion of laughter—Artemus the while, more solemn than ever, gazing from face to face, as though astonished and somewhat hurt at being interrupted by the sudden outburst of merriment. He worked this trick with telling effect in his lectures. He had wonderful control of his facial muscles, and could make his face absolutely wooden. Nothing could surprise him into a laugh at such times, or even into the slightest approach to a smile.

            Artemus had a favorite trick that he loved to indulge in, and out of which he appeared to get a good deal of congenial fun. This was the disbursing of a rigmarole of nonsense in a solemn and impressive manner, as though he was saying something of unusual weight and importance. It was a game of mystification in which he greatly delighted. At a dinner given him by leading Comstockers at the International Hotel, Ward played this trick on Mark Twain, all present being let into the secret beforehand. Artemus was seated beside Mark near the head of the table. Presently something was said about genius. Artemus at once cleared his throat and turning to Mark began in a voice loud enough to attract the attention of all present and put a stop to general conversation, about as follows : " Ah,—speaking of genius, Mr. Clemens, now, genius appears to me to be a sort of luminous quality of the mind, allied to a warm and inflammable constitution, which is inherent in the man, and supersedes in him whatever constitutional tendency he may possess, to permit himself to be influenced by such things as do not coincide with his preconceived notions and established convictions to the contrary. Does not my definition hit the nail squarely on the head, Mr. Clemens?"

            "I don't know that I exactly understand you," returned Mark. "Somehow I—I didn't fully grasp your meaning."

            " No ? " queried Artemus. And then he elevated his eyebrows and gazed at Mark with a countenance expressive of profound astonishment and some shifting shades of pity.

            All at the table gave utterance to half-smothered " humphs," snorts and grunts of disgust at Mark's stupidity.

            "Didn't grasp my meaning?" said Artemus, " why that is very singular.

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However," he added, pulling himself together more hopefully, " I will try and express my idea more clearly. Genius, Mr. Clemens, does not appear to me to consist, or rest, merely in sensibility to that degree of beauty which is perceived by all, as there is an inherent illuminating power, the possession of which causes luminous ideas to dart like meteors across the intellectual firmament, and which, I say, checks in the person possessing it a tendency to permit himself to be influenced by preconceived opinions in regard to those beauties in nature, which all objects display to the eye of one of a warm and inflammable temperament, and which is not at all understood by those detractors who are constitutionally incapable of seeing those beauties. The—but I must have already made it plain to you, Mr. Clemens ? "

            " I am almost ashamed to say it," drawled Mark, "but, to tell you the truth, I was not able to catch your exact meaning. I will admit, however, that what you say appears reasonable enough, and you speak it in a very logical and convincing tone of voice ; still I somehow fail to grasp your idea of genius."

            "Indeed!" exclaimed Artemus, and for half a minute he gazed at Mark with a face in which a shade of impatience began to mingle with astonishment and compassion. Then heaving a sigh, he said : " Well, perhaps I was not sufficiently explicit. What I wished to say was simply that genius is a sort of illuminating quality of the mind inherent in those of constitutionally inflammable natures and whose conceptions are not of that ambiguous and disputable kind which may be said— "

            " Hold on, Artemus," interrupted Mark, " it is useless for you to repeat your definition. The wine, or the brandy, or the whisky or some other thing has gone to my head. Tell it to me some other time ; or, better still, write it down for me and I'll study it at my leisure,"

            "Good!" cried Artemus, his face beaming with pleasure. " I'll give it to you to-morrow in black and white. I have been much misunderstood in this matter and it is important that I should set myself right. You see that to the eye of a person of a warm and inflammable nature and in whose self-luminous mind ideas arise that are by no means confined to the material which conception furnishes, but may be— "

            " For God's sake ! " cried Mark : " if you go at that again you'll drive me mad ! "

            The general burst of laughter which followed this feeling and half-angry protest, made it plain to Mark that Artemus had been set to work on him with malice aforethought, and that all present were in the plot and had been amusing themselves at his expense.

            Mark was in no amiable mood the remainder of the evening. He said such a thing "might be thought by some to be smart," but he failed to see "where the fun came in."

            Artemus Ward gave no thought to money—not enough to take care of it when he had earned it. In the midst of a whirl of speculation on the Comstock and with mines of gold and silver all about him, he envied no one the millions that were being hoisted up to the light of day. He never thought of such a thing as joining in the stock speculations about which all with whom he came in contact were running mad. Had the mines been of copper, iron or coal he would have shown quite as much interest in them. He was wholly interested in the people he found in the mines, and the ordinary miner received as large a share of his attention as did the millionaire owner. Indeed of the two he preferred the miner as being the more picturesque.

            At the time Artemus was in Virginia City, he said his peculiar style would soon surfeit the public if he wrote too much. For this reason he said he was going to give the people a rest.

            "But," he said, "I am taking notes

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of the queer words and expressions I hear in different regions. These I shall sometimes use in sketches located in those places where heard." He told me that he had one book filled with notes of queer things he picked up among the boatmen about the wharves of the towns on the great lakes. He also contemplated altering his style as regarded spelling, except in letters in which he appeared as the " wax figger " showman. Had he not died at the early age of thirty-two he would doubtless have worked into stories and sketches much material that he had accumulated.

            Although Artemus made no pretension to a knowledge of fine points of art, he frequently made hasty pencil sketches of places and persons that struck his fancy. In a letter he wrote me from Austin, Nevada, he sent me on the back of a programme a sketch of a brush-roofed saloon in which he lectured at Big Creek. That sketch has disappeared, but I still have two small ones made, I think, in New York at the water-front. I am of the opinion that he made most of his rude pencil drawings as hints for artists in making illustrations for his sketches.

            As I said above, he did not take extended notes. He wanted only a few words. "Let me get that," he would say, and down went the expression that had struck him, with the name of the place. For the rest he trusted to his memory. In a few words he was able to give the local color of a place. In leaving Aspinwall it is—" Adios, Americanos ! "

            On the Panama Railroad—"There are huts all along the route, and half-naked savages gaze patronizingly upon us from their doorways."

            Central America—" The Central American is lazy. The only exercise he ever takes is to occasionally produce a revolution."

            Acapulco— " The pretty peasant girls peddle necklaces made of shells."

            Arriving at San Francisco it was— "Ki hi-hi ki ! Shoolah!"

            Stockton—" A vivacious maniac invites me to ride in a chariot drawn by eight lions and a rhinoceros."

            Carson City—" I hain't killed a man for over two weeks ! What'll yer poison yourself with ? "

            Virginia City—"It's splendid streets paved with silver."

            Artemus Ward was fond of theatricals and theatrical people. His head was full of scraps of plays, which he constantly quoted in a comical way. While in Virginia City he blackened his face one night and appeared as "end man " in a minstrel show that was performing at Niagara Hall on B street. He happened to be acquainted with some of the leading members of the company and good-naturedly volunteered in order to help them along. Also he probably wished to see what he could do in that line. He made a good deal of fun, and of a kind that was fresh and droll. Though he appeared among them but once, Artemus gave the company many telling jokes and funny little stories.

            Artemus at times contemplated taking to the stage as a comedian, but feared he was too old. He was of the opinion that he ought to have made a beginning when he was about nineteen or twenty years of age. Yet at the time of his visit to the Comstock he thought quite seriously of writing a play for himself; one that could be performed by a small company and in which he would have appeared in his great character of showman. His play would have introduced "Betsy Jane " and other " Baldinville " folk, also some of the "wax figgers." His show, with the characters he intended using, would undoubtedly have been a success on the stage, as it had been thoroughly advertised throughout the country by his letters and sketches, and would have added new luster to the career of the gifted humorist.