Twain in His Own Time: A Biographical Chronicle of His Life, Drawn from Recollections, Interviews, and Memoirs by Family, Friends, and Associates

“Mark Twain in London” (1872)

[82] === “Mark Twain in London” (1872) Moncure D. Conway Twain sailed on 21 August 1872 to research a book—never completed—on England. He spent the next two and a half months taking notes and occasionally lecturing. Twain spoke at the Savage Club in London on 22 September 1872 and was later elected to honorary membership in this historic “gentleman’s club.” Moncure Daniel Conway (1832–1907), an American Unitarian minister and author, described Twain’s talk in one of his letters to the Cincinnati Commercial. you may observe in the papers which will reach you from this side at the same time with this letter accounts of a lunar rainbow of extraordinary splendor and surpassing hues which has just occurred here. You may wonder what was the occasion of such an illumination in London. The thing will be explained when I announce that it occurred on the same evening in which Mark Twain was entertained by the Savage Club. . . . On the occasion of his first appearance at the Club he came attended by his publisher, the genial and clever Mr. [George] Routledge. Fortunately the chairman of the evening was the inimitable [John L.] Toole, the wittiest actor in London. Mark Twain was given the seat of honor at his side, and when the repast was over, Toole arose and invited us to fill our glasses. A large proportion of the fifty or sixty persons present did not know that any distinguished guest was present until this unusual invitation to fill glasses was given. The necessity of repairing to the theaters has made it the rule that there shall be no toasts or speeches to prolong the dinners, except at the Christmas or anniversary banquet. All now set themselves to know what was up. Toole then said: “We have at our table Mark Twain.” At these words a roar of cheers arose, and for some moments the din was indescribable. Toole then proceeded in a penitent way to confess that for a year or two he had been cribbing from Mark Twain in a way that must now, he feared, suffer a humiliating exposure. When now and then he had indulged in an innocent “gag,” he had had friends rush to him behind the scenes or on the streets [83] with “Toole, that was capital; your own, I suppose?” Now invariably when he had been so greeted the thing happened to be Mark Twain’s. So all he could say was: “Oh—ah—well—ahem—glad you liked it.” He could not exactly make out how it was, but when he did put in a bit of originality, his friends seemed very rarely to come and inquire whether it was his own or not. Toole’s deferential gravity and innocent look is always amusing, but his fooling in this speech was unusually funny. When Mark Twain arose, the contrast between him and the clever, comic actor beside him was singular . The one is small, with a jolly, blooming countenance, full of quickness, eye ever on the alert; the American tall, thin, grave, with something of the look of a young divinity student fallen among worldlings. Being one of the Savages, I have the happiness of laying before your readers Twain’s speech, of which the Londoners are in hopeless ignorance, but, alas, it loses much by being transferred to paper. In its proper setting, related to its immediate environment and delivered with a solemn and dry suavity, quite indescribable , it struck others present besides myself as the best after-dinner speech we had ever heard. The speaker had on full evening dress—swallow-tail coat, white cravat, and all that,—to wear which to the club dinner calls down upon the wearer considerable chaff, until it be meekly apologized for. This fact will explain the opening sentences of Twain’s speech, which were uttered with deprecating lowliness. “Mr. Chairman and gentleman,” he began, “it affords me sincere pleasure to meet this distinguished club, a club which has extended its hospitalities and its cordial welcome to so many of my countrymen. I hope”—and here the speaker’s voice became low and fluttering—“you will excuse these clothes. I am going to the theater; that will explain these clothes. I have other clothes than these.” The manner in which these words were uttered produced a great deal of merriment. “Judging human nature by what I have seen of it, I suppose that the customary thing for a stranger to do when...