mark twain riverboat story

Lit. Summaries

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Uncovering the Depths of Mark Twain’s Life on the Mississippi: A Literary Analysis

Mark Twain’s Life on the Mississippi is a classic work of American literature that explores the author’s experiences as a steamboat pilot on the Mississippi River. However, there is much more to this book than meets the eye. Through a literary analysis of Twain’s writing, we can uncover the deeper themes and meanings behind his work, as well as gain a better understanding of the man behind the pen. From his commentary on race and class to his reflections on the changing landscape of America, Life on the Mississippi is a rich and complex text that continues to captivate readers today.

The Mississippi River in Mark Twain’s Life and Writing

Mark Twain’s life and writing were deeply intertwined with the Mississippi River. Growing up in Hannibal, Missouri, Twain spent much of his childhood playing along the riverbanks and watching the steamboats pass by. As he grew older, he worked as a steamboat pilot on the Mississippi, gaining firsthand knowledge of the river’s twists and turns. This experience would later inform his writing, as he wrote vivid descriptions of the river and its surroundings in works such as “Life on the Mississippi” and “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.” The Mississippi River was not just a setting for Twain’s stories, but a character in its own right, representing both the freedom and danger of life on the frontier. Through his writing, Twain captured the essence of the Mississippi River and its impact on American culture and history.

Twain’s Childhood on the Mississippi

Mark Twain’s childhood on the Mississippi River was a formative experience that would shape his writing for years to come. Born Samuel Langhorne Clemens in 1835, Twain grew up in Hannibal, Missouri, a small town on the banks of the Mississippi. As a boy, he spent countless hours exploring the river and its surrounding wilderness, developing a deep love and respect for the natural world.

Twain’s experiences on the Mississippi also exposed him to the harsh realities of life in the antebellum South. He witnessed the horrors of slavery firsthand, as well as the poverty and inequality that plagued many of the region’s inhabitants. These experiences would later inform his writing, as he used his platform to critique the social and political injustices of his time.

Despite the challenges he faced, Twain’s childhood on the Mississippi was also filled with adventure and excitement. He and his friends would often sneak aboard steamboats and explore the river, living out their own versions of the stories they had read in books. These experiences would later inspire some of Twain’s most beloved works, including The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

Overall, Twain’s childhood on the Mississippi was a complex and multifaceted experience that would shape his writing and worldview for years to come. By exploring the depths of this period in his life, we can gain a deeper understanding of the man behind some of America’s most iconic literary works.

Twain’s Career as a Riverboat Pilot

Mark Twain’s career as a riverboat pilot was a significant part of his life and greatly influenced his writing. Twain began his career as a pilot in 1857 and spent four years navigating the Mississippi River. He became an expert in reading the river’s currents, sandbars, and hazards, which allowed him to safely navigate the steamboats through treacherous waters. This experience provided Twain with a wealth of knowledge about life on the river, which he later incorporated into his writing. His most famous work, “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” is set on the Mississippi River and features vivid descriptions of the river and its surroundings. Twain’s career as a riverboat pilot not only provided him with material for his writing but also gave him a unique perspective on life in the South, which he would later use to critique the region’s social and political issues.

The Impact of the Civil War on Twain’s Life and Writing

The Civil War had a profound impact on Mark Twain’s life and writing. Twain, who was born in 1835, was in his late twenties when the war broke out in 1861. He initially sided with the Confederacy, but later changed his mind and became a staunch supporter of the Union. This change in allegiance had a significant impact on his writing, as he began to use his platform to criticize the South and slavery.

Twain’s experiences during the war also influenced his writing. He served briefly in the Confederate army before deserting and fleeing to Nevada, where he worked as a miner and journalist. These experiences gave him a firsthand understanding of the brutality and chaos of war, which he would later incorporate into his writing.

Perhaps the most significant impact of the Civil War on Twain’s writing was the way it shaped his views on race and social justice. Twain was deeply troubled by the legacy of slavery and the ongoing oppression of African Americans in the post-war South. He used his writing to challenge these injustices, often through the use of satire and humor.

Overall, the Civil War was a pivotal moment in Mark Twain’s life and career. It forced him to confront his own beliefs and values, and inspired him to use his writing as a tool for social change.

Twain’s Literary Inspiration from the Mississippi River

Mark Twain’s love for the Mississippi River is evident in his literary works. The river served as a source of inspiration for Twain, who spent his childhood near its banks. He once said, “The Mississippi River will always have its own way; no engineering skill can persuade it to do otherwise.” This quote reflects Twain’s fascination with the river’s power and unpredictability.

In his most famous work, “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” the Mississippi River plays a central role in the story. The river serves as a symbol of freedom for the main character, Huck, who escapes from his abusive father and embarks on a journey down the river with his friend Jim, a runaway slave. The river represents a path to a better life for both characters, as they seek to escape the constraints of society and find their own way in the world.

Twain’s experiences on the Mississippi River also influenced his writing style. He was known for his use of regional dialects and colloquial language, which he picked up from the people he encountered on the river. This style of writing helped to create a sense of authenticity in his works, as he captured the unique voices and perspectives of the people who lived along the river.

Overall, the Mississippi River played a significant role in shaping Mark Twain’s literary career. His love for the river and the people who lived along its banks is evident in his works, which continue to be celebrated for their humor, insight, and authenticity.

The Role of Race in Twain’s Mississippi Writings

Mark Twain’s Mississippi writings are often praised for their vivid depictions of life on the river, but they also offer a complex exploration of race relations in the antebellum South. Twain’s own experiences as a steamboat pilot and his observations of the people and customs along the river inform his portrayal of black and white characters in works such as Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Life on the Mississippi. While some critics have accused Twain of perpetuating racist stereotypes, others argue that his use of dialect and satire exposes the hypocrisy and cruelty of slavery and racism. Ultimately, Twain’s Mississippi writings offer a nuanced and challenging perspective on the role of race in American history and literature.

The Mississippi River as a Symbol in Twain’s Works

The Mississippi River is a recurring symbol in Mark Twain’s works, serving as a metaphor for the journey of life and the search for freedom. In “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” the river represents a path to freedom for Huck and Jim, who are both seeking to escape the constraints of society. The river also serves as a symbol of the natural world, which is often contrasted with the artificiality of civilization. Twain’s use of the Mississippi River as a symbol reflects his own experiences growing up in the river town of Hannibal, Missouri, and his deep connection to the river and its culture. Through his writing, Twain invites readers to explore the depths of the Mississippi River and the complexities of life on its banks.

Twain’s Critique of Society through the Mississippi River

Mark Twain’s Life on the Mississippi is a literary masterpiece that not only captures the essence of the Mississippi River but also serves as a critique of society. Through the eyes of the protagonist, Twain exposes the flaws and injustices of the society of his time. The Mississippi River serves as a metaphor for the society, and the journey down the river represents the journey of life. Twain’s critique of society is evident in the way he portrays the characters and their actions. He exposes the hypocrisy of the upper class, the greed of the businessmen, and the ignorance of the masses. Twain’s Life on the Mississippi is a powerful commentary on the society of his time and a timeless masterpiece that continues to resonate with readers today.

Twain’s Relationship with the Mississippi River

Mark Twain’s relationship with the Mississippi River was a significant aspect of his life and literary works. Growing up in Hannibal, Missouri, Twain was exposed to the river at a young age and developed a deep connection with it. He worked as a steamboat pilot on the Mississippi for several years, which provided him with firsthand experience and knowledge of the river’s intricacies. This experience would later serve as inspiration for his most famous novel, “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” which follows the journey of a young boy and a runaway slave down the Mississippi River. Twain’s love for the river is evident in his writing, as he often describes it in vivid detail and uses it as a symbol for freedom and adventure. The Mississippi River played a significant role in shaping Twain’s life and literary career, and its influence can be seen throughout his works.

The Significance of Twain’s Mississippi Writings in American Literature

Mark Twain’s Mississippi writings hold a significant place in American literature. They not only capture the essence of life on the Mississippi River but also provide a commentary on the social and political issues of the time. Twain’s works, such as “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” and “Life on the Mississippi,” have become classics and continue to be studied and analyzed by scholars and readers alike. Through his vivid descriptions and use of dialect, Twain brings to life the people and places of the Mississippi River, creating a sense of nostalgia and longing for a simpler time. Additionally, his portrayal of race relations and the hypocrisy of society in the South during the 19th century remains relevant and thought-provoking today. Twain’s Mississippi writings are a testament to his skill as a writer and his ability to capture the complexities of American life.

Twain’s Use of Humor in Depicting the Mississippi River

Mark Twain’s literary masterpiece, “Life on the Mississippi,” is a humorous and insightful portrayal of the Mississippi River and the people who lived and worked along its banks. Twain’s use of humor is particularly effective in depicting the river, as it allows him to both celebrate its beauty and expose its flaws. Through his witty observations and clever anecdotes, Twain captures the essence of life on the Mississippi and the unique culture that developed along its shores. Whether he is describing the antics of the riverboat pilots or the idiosyncrasies of the townspeople, Twain’s humor adds depth and richness to his portrayal of this iconic American waterway.

The Influence of Twain’s Mississippi Writings on Popular Culture

Mark Twain’s Mississippi writings have had a profound impact on popular culture. From literature to film, Twain’s stories have been adapted and reimagined countless times. One of the most famous adaptations is the 1949 film “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” which starred child actor Mickey Rooney as Huck. The film was a box office success and helped to cement Twain’s place in American popular culture. Other adaptations include the 1993 Disney film “The Adventures of Huck Finn” and the 2013 film “The Mark Twain Prize: Celebrating the Humor of Mark Twain.” Twain’s influence can also be seen in music, with artists such as Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash drawing inspiration from his works. Overall, Twain’s Mississippi writings continue to captivate and inspire audiences across generations.

Twain’s Legacy on the Mississippi River

Mark Twain’s legacy on the Mississippi River is one that has endured for over a century. His writings, particularly his most famous work, “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” have become synonymous with the river and its culture. Twain’s ability to capture the essence of life on the Mississippi has made him a literary icon, and his influence can still be felt today. From his vivid descriptions of the river and its surroundings to his portrayal of the people who lived and worked on its banks, Twain’s legacy on the Mississippi River is one that will continue to inspire and captivate readers for generations to come.

The Importance of the Mississippi River in American History and Culture

The Mississippi River has played a significant role in American history and culture. It has been a vital transportation route for goods and people, a source of inspiration for artists and writers, and a symbol of the nation’s growth and expansion. Mark Twain, one of America’s most celebrated writers, was deeply influenced by the Mississippi River. His experiences as a steamboat pilot on the river provided him with a wealth of material for his literary works, including his most famous novel, “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.” In this article, we will explore the importance of the Mississippi River in American history and culture, and how it shaped the life and work of Mark Twain.

Twain’s Impact on Environmental Awareness through the Mississippi River

Mark Twain’s impact on environmental awareness through the Mississippi River cannot be overstated. In his literary works, Twain often depicted the river as a living entity, with its own personality and moods. He also highlighted the impact of human activities on the river and its ecosystem. Through his writing, Twain raised awareness about the importance of preserving the natural beauty and resources of the Mississippi River. His works continue to inspire environmentalists and nature lovers to this day.

The Mississippi River as a Character in Twain’s Works

The Mississippi River is not just a setting in Mark Twain’s works, but a character in its own right. Twain’s personal experiences as a steamboat pilot on the river undoubtedly influenced his writing, and he often used the river as a symbol for freedom, adventure, and the passage of time. In Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, the river serves as a means of escape for Huck and Jim, and represents their journey towards freedom and independence. In Life on the Mississippi, Twain describes the river as a living, breathing entity that has a personality and a will of its own. The Mississippi River is a constant presence in Twain’s works, and its significance cannot be overstated.

Twain’s Exploration of the Human Condition through the Mississippi River

Mark Twain’s exploration of the human condition through the Mississippi River is a central theme in his literary works. The river serves as a metaphor for life, with its twists and turns, highs and lows, and the constant flow of change. Twain’s characters, such as Huck Finn and Jim, navigate the river and encounter various challenges and obstacles that reflect the complexities of human existence. Through their experiences, Twain highlights the themes of freedom, morality, and the search for identity. The Mississippi River becomes a symbol of the journey of life, with its unpredictable nature and the need for resilience and adaptability. Twain’s exploration of the human condition through the Mississippi River is a testament to his literary genius and his ability to capture the essence of the human experience.

The Mississippi River as a Metaphor in Twain’s Writings

Mark Twain’s writings are often associated with the Mississippi River, which serves as a metaphor for various themes and ideas in his works. The river, which runs through Twain’s hometown of Hannibal, Missouri, is a symbol of freedom, adventure, and the American spirit. In his most famous work, “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” the river represents a journey towards freedom and self-discovery for the protagonist, Huck. As Huck and Jim float down the river, they encounter various obstacles and challenges, but ultimately find a sense of liberation from the constraints of society. The river also serves as a metaphor for the passage of time and the inevitability of change. In “Life on the Mississippi,” Twain reflects on his own experiences as a steamboat pilot and the changes he witnessed along the river over the years. Through his use of the Mississippi River as a metaphor, Twain captures the essence of American life and the complexities of the human experience.

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This Day In History : April 9

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Mark Twain receives steamboat pilot’s license

On April 9, 1859, a 23-year-old Missouri youth named Samuel Langhorne Clemens receives his steamboat pilot’s license.

Clemens had signed on as a pilot’s apprentice in 1857 while on his way to Mississippi. He had been commissioned to write a series of comic travel letters for the Keokuk Daily Post, but after writing five, decided he’d rather be a pilot than a writer. He piloted his own boats for two years, until the Civil War halted steamboat traffic. During his time as a pilot, he picked up the term “ Mark Twain ,” a boatman’s call noting that the river was only two fathoms deep, the minimum depth for safe navigation. When Clemens returned to writing in 1861, working for the Virginia City Territorial Enterprise, he wrote a humorous travel letter signed by “Mark Twain” and continued to use the pseudonym for nearly 50 years.

Clemens was born in Florida, Missouri, and was apprenticed to a printer at age 13. He later worked for his older brother, who established the Hannibal Journal . In 1864, he moved to San Francisco to work as a reporter. There he wrote the story that made him famous, "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County."

In 1866, he traveled to Hawaii as a correspondent for the Sacramento Union. Next, he traveled the world writing accounts for papers in California and New York, which he later published as the popular book The Innocents Abroad (1869). In 1870, Clemens married the daughter of a wealthy New York coal merchant and settled in Hartford, Connecticut, where he continued to write travel accounts and lecture. In 1875, his novel Tom Sawyer was published, followed by Life on the Mississippi (1883) and his masterpiece Huckleberry Finn (1885). Bad investments left Clemens bankrupt after the publication of Huckleberry Finn , but he won back his financial standing with his next three books. In 1903, he and his family moved to Italy, where his wife died. Her death left him sad and bitter, and his work, while still humorous, grew distinctly darker. He died in 1910.

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Robert E. Lee surrenders

“chicago eight” plead not guilty to federal conspiracy charges, billy the kid convicted of murder, marian anderson sings on the steps of the lincoln memorial, man attempts to kill wife for money using car bomb, u.s. secretary of state george shultz condemns soviet spying, troops surrender in bataan, philippines, in largest-ever u.s. surrender, germany invades norway and denmark, anti-nazi theologian dietrich bonhoeffer is hanged.

Mark Twain: A Good Riverboat Pilot and a Great Writer…

His real name was Samuel Langhorne Clemens, but he’s best known by his pen name: Mark Twain.  

Sam Clemons grew up in Hannibal, Missouri, which is a town located along the Mississippi River. So, it’s no surprise that as a young boy, Sam dreamed of becoming the captain a riverboat. He accomplished his dream by earning his pilot’s license, and he drove boats for a few years. But eventually he became a writer. Writing became the career that made him famous.  He  wrote funny stories and serious books. And, many of his stories were about life on the Mississippi.

Young Sam Clemons achieved one big dream (to become a riverboat pilot) and then achieved a different dream that was even bigger. So, don’t stop dreaming…and don’t be afraid to change dreams in mid-stream if you discover something better!

Quotes by Mark Twain

“Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not the absence of fear.”  

“Kindness is the language the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”

“The secret of getting ahead is getting started.”

“Give every day the chance to be the most beautiful day of your life.”

“Continuous improvement is better than delayed perfection.”

“Courage is the foundation of integrity.”

About the Mississippi River

It’s a Fact:  Mark Twain (1835-1910) earned his riverboat pilot’s license in 1859 and spent two years on the job before the Civil War halted steamboat traffic on the river.

It’s a Fact: The name Mississippi comes from the Ojibway Indian tribe. Mississippi means “big river” in their language.

It’s a Fact:  10 states border the Mississippi River. They are:  Minnesota , Wisconsin , Iowa , Illinois , Missouri , Kentucky , Tennessee , Arkansas , Mississippi , and Louisiana .

It’s a Fact:  A single drop of water takes about 90 days to flow from Lake Itasca, where the Mississippi River begins, to the Gulf of Mexico, where the river ends.

It’s a Fact : The Mississippi River empties into the Gulf of Mexico, which a large body of water that borders several southern states and Mexico.

Fun Fact : Mark Twain grew up along the Mississippi River. His lived in a town called Hannibal, Missouri. Today, his boyhood home is a museum. Next time you’re in Hannibal, be sure to drop by!

Fun Fact :  When Sam Clemens published a story in 1861, he signed it using the pen name “Mark Twain” which was a riverboat term that meant that the water was at least 12 feet deep. Water that was 12 feet deep was safe for a riverboat to pass through without hitting bottom.

Fun Fact : At its widest point, the Mississippi River is about 7 miles wide.

Fun Fact : At its deepest point, the Mississippi River is about 200 feet deep.

Just for fun,

Does the mississippi river empty into the atlantic ocean, the pacific ocean, or the gulf of mexico, about how long does it take water to flow from the beginning of the mississippi river to the gulf of mexico is it approximately 10 days, 30 days, or 90 days, did the word "mississippi" come from an american indian name or was it the name of a famous european explorer, did mark twain grow up in hannibal, missouri or in hannibal, mississippi.

If you have time, you can write a story of your own.

Here are a couple of story ideas you can choose from..

Story Idea #1: You could write a story about the amazing life of Mark Twain.

Story Idea #2: You could write a story about being a riverboat captain (like Mark Twain). What would you see? Do you think it would be scary to drive your boat?

You help you write a great story, we have some timely tips and helpful hints.

Check out “10 Tips for Writing Better Essays.”

Here's a riddle for you:

Why does the mississippi river see better than the ohio river.

For fun-to-read books about a girl detective who homeschools on a train... check out  The Mystery Ryders , a series from the creators of the Homeschool Express.

Thanks for stopping by... have a great homeschool day!

Mark Twain Riverboat

The Mark Twain Riverboat goes on a gentle cruise around Tom Sawyer Island. That's the same route that the Sailing Ship Columbia and Davy Crockett Explorer Canoes take, and I'd suggest choosing only one of these three attractions. You don't need to see that same scenery three times.

What You Need to Know About the Mark Twain Riverboat

TripSavvy / Betsy Malloy Photography

We polled 131 of our readers to find out what they think about the riverboat. 74% of them said It's a must-do or ride it if you have time, making it one of the lower-rated things to do at Disneyland.

• Location:  Mark Twain Riverboat is in Frontierland
• Rating:  ★
• Restrictions:   No height restrictions. Children under age seven years must be accompanied by a person age 14 years or older.
• Ride Time:   12 minutes
• Recommended for:   Everyone
• Fun Factor:  Low
• Wait Factor:  Low    
• Fear Factor:  Low
• Herky-Jerky Factor:  Low
• Nausea Factor:  Low
• Seating:   You just get on and ride, and you can move around while it's going
• Accessibility:   This ride is fully accessible, and you can stay in your wheelchair or ECV for the whole thing, but you'll only get onto the lower level. Go to the access gate on the right side of the turnstile or enter through the attraction exit and ask a Cast Member for help.  More about visiting Disneyland in a wheelchair or ECV

How to Have More Fun on the Mark Twain Riverboat

• If you want to  rest your feet , head for the seats in the front as soon as you get on.
• This ride  closes before dark
• Watch the kids.  They may be tempted to climb on the railings and could fall off.
• If you ask a cast member, the  pilot might let you ride inside with him . This is limited to just a couple of people per trip.

Next Disneyland Ride: Davy Crockett Explorer Canoes

More about disneyland rides.

You can  see all the Disneyland rides at a glance on the Disneyland Ride Sheet . If you want to browse through them starting with the best-rated,  start with the Haunted Mansion  and follow the navigation.

While you're thinking about rides, you should also  download Our Recommended Disneyland Apps (they're all free!)  and  Get Some Proven Tips to Minimize Your Disneyland Wait Time .

Fun Facts About Mark Twain Riverboat

Built in 1955, this was the first paddle wheeler built since shortly after 1900. It was built at the Disney Studios, except for the hull which was constructed at a shipyard in San Pedro. But don't let that fool you. It's a working reproduction of the historic vessels that ferried people up and down the mighty Mississippi, with a working steam engine that powers the large paddle, which in turn propels the boat.

The Mark Twain made its first voyage four days before Disneyland opened to the public, for Walt and Lillian Disney's 30th wedding anniversary. 

The Mark Twain was christened by actress   Irene Dunne who starred in the 1936 movie "Showboat" on Disneyland's Opening Day.

The boat is 28 feet tall and 105 feet long, with four decks.

The writer Mark Twain was a riverboat pilot on the Mississippi river when he was younger, and one of Walt Disney's personal heroes, which is why Walt named the boat after him.

A riverboat ride was in the plans from the earliest days, when Walt Disney started the first plans for building an amusement park near Walt Disney Studios in Burbank.

Every Disney theme park throughout the world has their own version of the Mark Twain riverboat. 

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For Mark Twain, It Was Love At First Sight

The aspiring author knew Olivia Langdon was the one when he first laid eyes on a photograph of her

Richard Gunderman, The Conversation

The year 2018 marks the 150th anniversary of one of the great courtships in American history, the wooing of an unenthusiastic 22-year-old Olivia Langdon by a completely smitten 32-year-old Samuel Langhorne Clemens, better known as Mark Twain.

As I first learned while visiting Twain’s hometown of Hannibal, Missouri in preparation for teaching “ Adventures of Huckleberry Finn ,” the contrasts between the two were indeed stark, and the prospects for their eventual union exceedingly poor. Olivia Langdon, known as Livy, was a thoroughly proper easterner, while Sam was a rugged man of the West. Livy came from a family that was rich and well-educated, while Sam had grown up poor and left school at age 12. She was thoroughly pious, while he was a man who knew how to smoke, drink and swear.

On Valentine’s Day, their story is a reminder of the true meaning of love. Despite many challenges, once united, they never gave up on each other and enjoyed a fulfilling 34 years of marriage.

The young Olivia

Olivia Langdon  was born in 1845 in Elmira, New York to a wealthy coal merchant. Her father, Jervis Langdon, was deeply religious but also highly progressive: He supported Elmira College, which had been founded in 1855 as one of  the first in the U.S.  to grant bachelor’s degrees to women. He was also an ardent abolitionist who served as a conductor on the Underground Railroad, which offered shelter and aid to escaped slaves from the South. He even offered sanctuary to a fugitive  Frederick Douglass , one of America’s greatest abolitionists, who became a lifelong friend.

Her mother, also Olivia, was active in many civic organizations and served as a strong advocate for her children’s education. The younger Olivia suffered from a delicate constitution her whole life. As a teenager she was bedridden for two years after a fall on the ice.

Mark Twain and love at first sight

Born in 1835  and raised on the Mississippi River in Hannibal, the young Samuel Clemens worked as a typesetter, a riverboat pilot, a miner and a writer. His first national literary success came in 1865 with “ The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County ,” a story about a frog and a man who would bet on anything.

He soon moved into travel writing, filing dispatches from Hawaii (then the Sandwich Islands) before embarking in 1867 for Europe and the Middle East aboard the steamship Quaker City. Clemens would later cobble together his dispatches from the voyage into a book that became a 19th-century bestseller, “ The Innocents Abroad. ”

It was aboard the Quaker City that Clemens first laid eyes on a photograph of Livy. Her younger brother, Charles, who would later add to his father’s coal fortune, befriended Clemens on the voyage and showed him a picture of his sister. Clemens later claimed that it was love at first sight.

Wooing the ‘dearest girl in the world’

Back in the U.S., Clemens accepted an invitation from Charles to visit his family in Elmira. Within days of meeting Livy in 1868, he proposed marriage. She rebuffed him. Clemens later  wrote ,

“She said she never could or would love me – but she set herself the task of making a Christian of me. I said she would succeed, but that in the meantime, she would unwittingly dig a matrimonial pit and end by tumbling into it.”

Although Livy refused Sam’s proposal, she did offer to enter into a correspondence with him as “brother and sister.” He wrote to her the very next day and kept on writing for 17 months, a total of over  180 letters . One of them reads as follows:

“Livy dear, I have already mailed today’s letter, but I am so proud of my privilege of writing the dearest girl in the world whenever I please, that I must add a few lines if only to say I love you, Livy. For I do love you … , as the dew loves the flowers; the birds love the sunshine; as mothers love their first-born… . P.S. – I have read this letter over and it is flippant and foolish and puppyish. I wish I had gone to bed when I got back, without writing. You said I must never tear up a letter after writing it to you and so I send it. Burn it, Livy, I did not think I was writing so clownishly and shabbily. I was in much too good a humor for sensible letter writing.”

Livy’s parents had good reason to be skeptical about the relatively uneducated and uncivilized Clemens, and they asked for references from his friends out west. As Clemens later  reported , his friends did little to ease their mind, reporting that he was wild and godless, an unsettled rover “who got drunk oftener than was necessary.” But Sam had already told them as much, which seemed to confirm his honesty. Plus, he tried to reform himself, for a time giving up drinking and attending church regularly.

Marriage, lavish home and love’s travails

Despite the Langdons’ initial objections, Jervis Langdon took a liking to Sam, who soon won Livy’s heart. On the couple’s first outing together, they attended a reading by  Charles Dickens , and in an effort to elevate her beau’s character, Livy began sending him copies of the  sermons  of one of America’s most famous preachers, Henry Ward Beecher.

They announced their engagement in February of 1869. A year later, they were married.

To Clemens’s surprise, his father-in-law provided lavishly for the newlyweds, purchasing for them a beautiful home in Buffalo, New York, staffed with servants. He also provided Clemens a loan with which to purchase an interest in a local newspaper. “ The Innocents Abroad ” was soon published, and Clemens rocketed to fame and fortune.

The Clemens’  life  was not always happy, however. Soon after their marriage, Jervis Langdon died of stomach cancer, and their first child, a son, was born premature and died of diphtheria at 19 months. Years later, their daughter Susy died at age 24 of meningitis, and another daughter, Jean, died of epilepsy at 29. Only one daughter, Clara, survived. She married a musician and lived to age 88.

Clemens’s brilliance as a writer was nearly matched by his financial ineptitude. His enthusiasm for new technology led to investments in a money-losing  typesetting machine . His publishing investments met initial success with the publication of the  memoirs  of Ulysses Grant, but soon failed. Eventually the family had to shutter their house and move to Europe. Finally he turned over control of his financial affairs to a  Standard Oil baron  who persuaded him to file bankruptcy before ensuring that his creditors were paid off.

A lasting love affair

Sam and Livy’s marriage was remarkable for its day, and perhaps any day. When they later built a mansion in Hartford, Connecticut – where they were next-door neighbors to another of the 19th century’s best-selling American novelists,  Harriet Beecher Stowe  – the deed was in Livy’s name. Clemens also transferred the copyrights to some of his works to Livy, to avoid seizure by creditors.

More importantly, she became proofreader and editor of all his manuscripts. Without her, he believed, his most important works, such as “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” would never have been written. Of her role he  recalled ,

“I never wrote a serious word until after I married Mrs. Clemens. She is solely responsible – to her should go all the credit – for any influence my subsequent work should exert. After my marriage, she edited everything I wrote.”

At home their children would listen as their mother read his stories. When she came to a passage that she thought needed more work, she would turn down the corner of the page. Clemens later claimed that he occasionally inserted passages to which he knew she would object simply to enjoy her reaction.

Sam and Livy remained deeply devoted to one another throughout their marriage, which ended only with Livy’s death in Italy in 1904 from heart failure. Clemens himself lived until 1910, devoting his last years to his autobiography. When the  uncensored version  was finally published – at his request, 100 years after his death – it sold unexpectedly well, making him the author of best-sellers in the 19th, 20th and 21st centuries.

After Livy’s death, Sam found it difficult to live. One of the chroniclers of their lifelong love affair finds perhaps his most poignant testimony in 1905’s “ Eve’s Diary ,” in which the character of Adam says at Eve’s graveside,

“Wheresoever she was, there was Eden.”

Richard Gunderman, Chancellor's Professor of Medicine, Liberal Arts, and Philanthropy, Indiana University

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And as Ernest Hemingway wisely observed: "All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain called Huckleberry Finn ." "

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The Riveting Voyage: Disneyland’s Mark Twain Riverboat Story

In the magical kingdom of Disneyland, there’s an exciting adventure for you to embark on. It’s called the Mark Twain Riverboat Story and it’s a riveting voyage that takes you on a thrilling journey down Disneyland’s enchanted rivers. Imagine, you’re aboard a wonderful big riverboat, the Mark Twain, sailing peacefully through the waters with colorful characters by your side. This journey lets you see Disneyland from a whole new perspective, from the captivating landscapes to the enchanting wildlife, and there’s a remarkable story behind this delightful ride that will hold your curiosity. Prepare to embark on an exciting trip as you discover the rich history and adventurous tales of Disneyland’s Mark Twain Riverboat.

Table of Contents

The Inception of the Mark Twain Riverboat

Listen up, kids! Once upon a time, our dear old Uncle Walt Disney found great inspiration in creating magic. One such magical idea was the enchanting Mark Twain Riverboat. ### Walt Disney’s inspiration behind the riverboat came from the charming appeal of the classic tales of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, written by the brilliant human named Mark Twain. So he decided, wouldn’t it be fun to climb aboard a Victorian-era paddleboat and glide gently down the Mississippi River, just like in the stories?

Now when it came to the architectural planning and layout, Walt Disney made sure to not leave any detail out. He wanted to create a Riverboat that would transport visitors straight into the delightful world of Mark Twain’s timeless tale. Each corner of the boat would take you on a fun journey, one that leaves you feeling like you’re a part of this enchanting story.

The timeline of initial development and design started in the early 1950s. after a few years of magical hard work by skilled craftsmen and clever imaginers, the mark twain riverboat was set for its fantastic voyage, the grand unveiling in 1955.

When the sun rose on the day of July 17, 1955, a sense of ### opening day anticipation and excitement filled the air in a place called Anaheim, in California. The Mark Twain Riverboat twinkled in the morning sun, waiting to welcome its first passengers.

There were several noteworthy attendees and celebrations. Walt Disney himself, beaming with joy, welcomed each and every guest aboard with open arms.

With a joyous burst of steam, the first public cruise had begun. and oh, the reactions of the people were priceless smiles bloomed like flowers in spring, eyes twinkled like stars in the night sky..

This image is property of www.tripsavvy.com.

Architectural Design and Aesthetic

Now, let’s take a minute to look closer at how the Riverboat looks. Have you ever seen a fairy-tale house that sparkles in the golden sun? Well, that’s how exquisite the Mark Twain Riverboat is! ### The Victorian Riverboat influence can be seen in its cute verandas and pretty details.

The craftsmanship and detail of exterior and interior echo the charm of old-timey boats. It has beautifully crafted wooden panels and a twinkling interior.

Significance of the four-deck structure is much like your favorite layer cake. each one has something different to see, steam engine marvel.

The heart of the boat is its steam engine, gatherings steam and chuffing away! ### Characteristics of the Mark Twain steam engine are quite interesting. It uses the mighty power of heated water to move the boat!

The operation and mechanics are a little bit tricky to explain, but it’s as delightful as a toy train set. The engine creates steam, and the steam pushes a tall wheel at the back that spins and pushes the boat along.

The authentic steam whistle signal is the fun icing on the cake it gives a beautiful ‘toot-toot’ sound that you can’t help but cheer for.

This image is property of duchessofdisneyland.com.

The Captivating Journey Down The Rivers of America

When you’re aboard the Riverboat, you start on a magical journey down ### The Rivers of America. You float along the water, seeing little bits of your favorite stories come to life.

Visual attractions and points of interest are many, from stunning pine trees to fascinating frontier settlements.

Let’s not forget guest interactions and activities during the voyage that keep you excited and engaged in your journey., symbol of classic americana.

Something that makes the Riverboat special is how it takes you back in time to classic America. ### How Mark Twain Riverboat evokes the old-world charm is through its smile-inspiring design and tender appeal.

The boat has a deep connection to the American Frontier theme, taking you back to the time of adventurers.

It reflects mid 19th century mississippi river culture brilliantly, painting a pretty picture of a time filled with childhood wonder..

This image is property of 1.bp.blogspot.com.

Legacy in Pop Culture

Just like a famous movie star, the Riverboat has made memorable appearances in films and shows. ### Appearances in movies and TV shows have made the Riverboat much of a celebrity!

It also has cultural significance in literature and merchandising. It’s like the cool kid that everyone wants to know!

Did you hear about the infamous ‘unofficial’ club 33 it’s a secret club that adds a dash of mystery to the riverboat’s journey., challenges and evolution over time.

All heroes face hurdles, and so has the Riverboat. ### Issues faced since the inaugural cruise have only made it stronger.

Through constant major refits and renovations, the Riverboat has kept its magic alive.

The evolution of the ride experience has been fun to witness, always embracing change while holding onto the magic..

Personal Tales and Guests Experiences

Just like the stories from your friends, ### memorable stories from boat crew members add to the joy of the Riverboat.

Unique and quirky guest anecdotes will make you smile and feel a part of the magical world of Disneyland.

The general public perception of the riverboat is love at first sight, the realists take.

As we wrap our magical tale, we can confidently say how important Mark Twain’s Riverboat is to Disneyland’s magical history. ### The assessment of the Mark Twain Riverboat’s place in Disney history is that of a cherished memory.

The challenges facing the attraction’s future are just bumps in the river, ones that’ll only add to its charm.

There’s no doubt that the riverboat’s enduring appeal and legacy will forever chug along in the hearts of disney visitors. so here’s to the mark twain riverboat, our beloved floating dream.

Disney Realists

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Mark Twain’s Riverboat Ramblings

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By Garrison Keillor

• Dec. 16, 2010

Samuel L. Clemens was a cheerful promoter of himself, and even after he’d retired from the lecture circuit, the old man liked to dress up as Mark Twain in a fresh white suit and take a Sunday morning stroll up Fifth Avenue just as churches were letting out and see the heads turn and hear his name murmured, the crowds of Presbyterians and Episcopalians standing awe-struck as the most beloved mustache in America passed by, tipping his silk hat to the ladies. Mr. Twain’s autobiography was meant to be a last stroll around the block, and to build up suspense and improve sales, Sam told everybody that he was writing one and that it contained material so explosive it would need to be embargoed for a hundred years. That century has passed now and here it is, Volume 1 of “The Complete Authentic Unexpurgated Edition, Nothing Has Been Omitted, Not Even Scandalous Passages Likely to Cause Grown Men to Gasp and Women to Collapse in Tears — No Children Under 7 Allowed to Read This Book Under Any Circumstance,” which made Sam front-page news when all three volumes of the “Autobiography of Mark Twain” were announced last spring. The book turns out to be a wonderful fraud on the order of the Duke and the Dauphin in their Shakespearean romp, and bravo to Samuel Clemens, still able to catch the public’s attention a century after he expired.

He speaks from the grave, he writes, so that he can speak freely — “as frank and free and unembarrassed as a love letter” — but there’s precious little frankness and freedom here and plenty of proof that Mark Twain, in the hands of academics, can be just as tedious as anybody else when he is under the burden of his own reputation. Here, sandwiched between a 58-page barrage of an introduction and 180 pages of footnotes, is a ragbag of scraps, some of interest, most of them not: travel notes, the dictated reminiscences of an old man in a dithery voice (“Shortly after my marriage, in 1870, I received a letter from a young man in St. Louis who was possibly a distant relative of mine — I don’t remember now about that” begins one story that goes nowhere), various false starts, anecdotes that must have been amusing at one time, a rough essay (with the author’s revisions carefully delineated) on Joan of Arc, a critique of the lecture performance of Petroleum V. Nasby, a recap of the clipper ship Hornet’s ill-fated voyage that ended in Hawaii in 1866, a piece about German compound words, an account of medicine on the frontier, well-worn passages from lectures, a fair amount of self-congratulation (“I expected the speech to go off well — and it did”), a detailed report on the testimony of Henry H. Rogers in a lawsuit in Boston, newspaper clippings, generous quotations from his daughter Susy’s writing about her father (“He always walks up and down the room while thinking and between each course at meals”), ruminations on his methodology of autobiographicizing (“I shall talk about the matter which for the moment interests me, and cast it aside and talk about something else the moment its interest for me is exhausted; . . . a complete and purposed jumble”), recollections of Reuel Gridley and other Hannibal classmates, and there is precious little that could be considered scandalous — maybe a rant against James W. Paige, the inventor of a typesetting machine that Sam lost $170,000 on: “If I had his nuts in a steel trap I would shut out all human succor and watch that trap till he died” — but you have to wade through 18 pages of mind-numbing inventory of the Countess Massiglia’s Villa di Quarto, which he leased in Florence (“I shall go into the details of this house, not because I imagine it differs much from any other old-time palace or new-time palace on the continent of Europe, but because ­every one of its crazy details interests me, and therefore may be expected to interest others of the human race, particularly women”), the only point of which is that the man can afford to rent a palace that is fancier than anything you’d find in Missouri. His wife is dying, and he compiles an inventory of furniture.

Here is a powerful argument for writers’ burning their papers — you’d like to be remembered for “The Innocents Abroad” and “Life on the Mississippi” and the first two-thirds of “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” and not for excruciating passages of hero worship of General Grant and his son Fred and accounts of your proximity to the general and your business dealings as the publisher of his memoirs, which only reminds the reader that the general wrote a classic autobiography, and you tried to and could not.

Think twice about donating your papers to an institution of higher learning, Famous Writer: someday they may be used against you.

Olivia Clemens’s nickname for her husband was Youth, and she knew him up close. Boyish high jinks are his strong suit, and energetic high spirits and sly irreverence. Here is Sam Clemens at 14 dancing naked in a room, unaware that girls are watching from behind a screen — well, he said he was unaware anyway, and why not take his word for it? — and the story of Jim Wolf climbing half-naked up the roof to silence the cats, and Sam tricking his mother into putting her hand in his jacket pocket, where he had stuffed a dead bat. Even in his maturity, he could take an appreciative boy’s view of his neighbor, the author of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”:

“Harriet Beecher Stowe . . . was a near neighbor of ours in Hartford, with no fences between. . . . Her mind had decayed, and she was a pathetic figure. She wandered about all the day long in the care of a muscular Irish woman. Among the colonists of our neighborhood the doors always stood open in pleasant weather. Mrs. Stowe entered them at her own free will, and as she was always softly slippered and generally full of animal spirits, she was able to deal in surprises, and she liked to do it. She would slip up behind a person who was deep in dreams and musings and fetch a war whoop that would jump that person out of his clothes.”

Mark Twain sprang to life at a young age. His voice is clear when Samuel Clemens was 17 and got to New York and wrote to his mother on Aug. 24, 1853: “My Dear Mother: you will doubtless be a little surprised, and somewhat angry when you receive this, and find me so far from home; but you must bear a little with me, for you know I was always the best boy you had, and perhaps you remember the people used to say to their children — ‘Now don’t do like Orion and Henry Clemens but take Sam for your guide!’ ” He took lodging on Duane Street near Broadway and got a job setting type in a large printing shop near the East River. He stuck around the city for a couple of months and wrote home about the fruit market, the Wild Men of Borneo displayed in P. T. Barnum’s museum on Broadway, the Crystal Palace on 42nd Street, and, knowing the letters would appear in his brother Orion’s Hannibal Journal, the boy struck up a style that we recognize as Twain (“I have taken a liking to the abominable place, and every time I get ready to leave, I put it off a day or so, from some unaccountable cause. It is just as hard on my conscience to leave New York as it was easy to leave Hannibal. I think I shall get off Tuesday, though”), a style that makes him seem fresh and friendly a century later. This is the Mark Twain people love to quote (“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence in society.” “A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way”), and whenever he hits his stride in the “Autobiography,” you feel happy for him — e.g., writing about Virginia City, Nev., in 1863:

“I secured a place in a nearby quartz mill to screen sand with a long-handled shovel. I hate a long-handled shovel. I never could learn to swing it properly. As often as any other way the sand didn’t reach the screen at all, but went over my head and down my back, inside of my clothes. It was the most detestable work I have ever engaged in, but it paid ten dollars a week and board — and the board was worthwhile, because it consisted not only of bacon, beans, coffee, bread and molasses, but we had stewed dried apples every day in the week just the same as if it were Sunday. But this palatial life, this gross and luxurious life, had to come to an end, and there were two sufficient reasons for it. On my side, I could not endure the heavy labor; and on the Company’s side, they did not feel justified in paying me to shovel sand down my back; so I was discharged just at the moment that I was going to resign.”

The reader hikes across the hard, dusty ground of a famous man’s reminiscences and is delighted to come across the occasional water hole. The famous man is in Berlin, hobnobbing with aristocracy at dinner at the ambassador’s, and meets a count: “This nobleman was of long and illustrious descent. Of course I wanted to let out the fact that I had some ancestors, too; but I did not want to pull them out of their graves by the ears, and I never could seem to get a chance to work them in in a way that would look sufficiently casual.” And this leads to a story about a Clemens ancestor running for office in Virginia whose opponent sent six young men with drums to stand in front of Mr. Clemens’s platform and drum during his speech. Mr. Clemens stood up and took out a revolver and spoke, softly: “I do not wish to hurt anybody, and shall try not to; but I have got just a bullet apiece for those six drums, and if you should want to play on them, don’t stand behind them.”

Twain takes a good swing at John D. Rockefeller, that monster of greed and ambition who liked to give little talks to his Baptist church about the beauty of holi­ness and following in the footsteps of the Master who alone can satisfy our hearts (“Satan, twaddling sentimental sillinesses to a Sunday school, could be no burlesque upon John D. Rockefeller. . . . He can’t be burlesqued — he is himself a burlesque”), and he preaches well against imperialism, but then you must hear about Robert Louis Stevenson (“His splendid eyes . . . burned with a smoldering rich fire under the penthouse of his brows, and they made him beautiful”) and the meeting with Helen Keller, who laughed at Sam’s jokes, the meeting with Lewis Carroll (“He was the stillest and shyest full-grown man I have ever met except ‘Uncle Remus’ ”), and then you start turning the pages two and three at a time.

Sam intended to give us an unblushing autobiography on the order of Casanova’s or Rousseau’s “Confessions” or Samuel Pepys’s diary, which Sam heartily admired, with its matter-of-fact inventories of parties attended and meals enjoyed and the skirts of chambermaids raised, but he knew that frankness comes with a price — “None of us likes to be hated, none of us likes to be shunned,” he said. “The man has yet to be born who could write the truth about himself” — and when he describes his brother Orion as having “an intense lust for approval,” he is surely describing himself: “He was so eager to be approved, so girlishly anxious to be approved by anybody and every­body, without discrimination, that he was commonly ready to forsake his . . . convictions at a moment’s notice. . . . He never acquired a conviction that could survive a disapproving remark from a cat.” The younger brother sees the older with a clear satirical eye, and what he sees is himself. Orion was foolish about money and so was Sam, a spendthrift to the end. Their father, Judge Clemens, before Sam was born, bought 75,000 acres of land in Tennessee. It contained coal, copper, iron, timber, oil, and produced wild grapes — “There’s millions in it!” said a cousin, James Lampton — and “it influenced our life,” Sam writes, it “cheered us up, and said ‘Do not be afraid — trust in me — wait.’ It kept us hoping and hoping, during 40 years, and forsook us at last. It put our energies to sleep and made visionaries of us — dreamers, and indolent. We were always going to be rich next year.” When their father died, “we began to manage it ourselves, . . . managed it all away except 10,000 acres,” which Orion traded for a house and a lot worth $250. The only one to turn a profit was Mark Twain, who turned Mr. Lampton (“the happy light in his eye, the abounding hope in his heart, the persuasive tongue, the miracle-­breeding imagination”) into Colonel Sel­lers in “The Gilded Age.”

It is the sad fate of an icon to be mummified alive, pickled by his own reputation, and midway through this dreary meander of a memoir, Sam throws up his hands in despair. “What a wee little part of a person’s life are his acts and his words! His real life is led in his head, and is known to none but himself. . . . His acts and his words are merely the visible thin crust of his world . . . and they are so trifling a part of his bulk! a mere skin enveloping it. The mass of him is hidden — it and its volcanic fires that toss and boil, and never rest, night nor day. These are his life , and they are not written, and cannot be written. . . . Biographies are but the clothes and buttons of the man — the biography of the man himself cannot be written.” There is very little real feeling here and no volcanic fires until you come upon the account of the death of his daughter Susy, 24, in Hartford, of meningitis, on Aug. 18, 1896. It is agony to read. Susy took ill and was taken to the house in Hartford, the home of her childhood, where she once wrote: “We are a very happy family. We consist of Papa, Mamma, Jean, Clara and me.” Her mother and Clara set sail from England to be with her. Her sister Jean and an aunt and uncle and some servants and the minister Joseph Twichell were at the bedside. Meningitis set in on the 15th. She ate her last supper that evening. The next morning, a high fever and delirium. She mistook a gown hanging in the closet for her mother and clutched it, kissed it and wept. She went blind. She stroked the face of Katy Leary, the housemaid, and said her last word, “Mamma.”

The father writes, “How gracious it was that in that forlorn hour of wreck and ruin, with the night of death closing around her, she should have been granted that beautiful illusion . . . and the latest emotion she should know in life the joy and peace of that dear imagined presence.” Susy was unconscious for two days and died on a Tuesday at 7 p.m. — “she that had been our wonder and our worship.” Sam was in England when he got a cablegram on Aug. 18 that said, “Susy was peacefully released today.” (“It is one of the mysteries of our nature that a man, all unprepared, can receive a thunderstroke like that and live. . . . The intellect is stunned by the shock and but gropingly gathers the meaning of the words. . . . It will be years” before he truly knows “the magnitude of his disaster.”)

Of all the cruel deaths in the book — the death of Sam’s father just when prosperity seemed to be in his grasp; the death of his younger brother, Henry, when boilers burst on a steamboat in 1858 (Henry, who had taken a job on the boat at Sam’s urging); the death of the infant son Langdon Clemens, for which Sam felt responsible — the death of the beloved daughter far beyond her father’s love and care is a disaster from which there is no recovery. Boyishness cannot prevail, nor irreverence. The story can’t be written. The man buttons up his clothes and resigns himself to the inexpressible.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARK TWAIN

Edited by Harriet Elinor Smith

Illustrated. 736 pp. University of California Press. $34.95

Garrison Keillor is the host of “A Prairie Home Companion” and editor of the forthcoming “Good Poems, American Places.”

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Mark Twain Riverboat

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Mark Twain Riverboat is an attraction, located at the Disneyland theme park in Anaheim , California , on which passengers embark on a scenic, 12-minute journey around the Rivers of America . Originally named Mark Twain Steamboat when the park opened in 1955, the stately, 5/8-scale Mississippi stern-wheeler was the first functional riverboat to be built in the United States for fifty years. Other Disney riverboat attractions now appear at Walt Disney World Resort , Tokyo Disneyland and Disneyland Paris .

• 1 Disneyland version
• 2 Former sights
• 4.1 Walt Disney World
• 4.2 Thunder Mesa riverboats (Disneyland Paris)
• 4.3 Tokyo Disneyland
• 5 Technical
• 6 References

Disneyland version [ ]

Passengers wait for the 150-ton, high, long riverboat, which departs every 25 minutes, inside a sheltered area located in the Frontierland section of the park. The waiting area is made to resemble a real riverboat loading area, with cargo deliveries sharing space on the dock. Historic United States flags are displayed at the attraction's entrance.

Upon boarding Mark Twain , passengers are free to move about her three levels. The lower deck's bow has chairs. The upper deck provides a vantage point for viewing landmarks throughout the voyage, there are also a couple bench seats on this level, some indoors and some outside.

The wheelhouse, where Mark Twain' s pilot is stationed, is also located on the upper deck. The lower level of the wheelhouse features a sleeping area and a sink to maintain the illusion of this being the captain's living quarters. At the pilot's discretion, a small number of passengers may be given permission to ride in the wheelhouse for the voyage, after which they are presented with souvenir Pilot Certificates.

The pilot signals the departure and arrival of Mark Twain using a whistle and bell system, along with various signals to other watercraft attractions. Because the riverboat travels along an I-beam guide rail throughout the ride, the pilot does not maneuver the ship. Instead, the pilot serves as lookout for other river traffic, such as Davy Crockett's Explorer Canoes and the Rafts to Pirate's Lair on Tom Sawyer Island , and communicates his observations with the boiler engineer. The boiler engineer is stationed on the bottom deck towards the stern. This is where the throttle and reverser are located. From here, the boiler engineer controls the speed and direction of the riverboat. Steam from the boiler is used to power the paddle wheels and thus pushes the craft along its guide-way.

The voyage on the Rivers of America around Tom Sawyer Island features pre-recorded narration by a riverboat guide voiced by Thurl Ravenscroft , Mark Twain ( Peter Renaday ), who speaks of his days piloting a riverboat, and by the (not present) "captain" of the ship, voiced by Disney voice actor Stephen Stanton . The narration playback, operated by the pilot via a control panel in the pilot house, points out the following sights:

• Haunted Mansion
• Splash Mountain
• Davy Crockett's Explorer Canoes landing
• Pirate's Lair on Tom Sawyer Island
• Mike Fink 's Cabin
• Lakota Chief, raising hand in welcome
• A shaman telling a native folktale
• Lakota Village
• Big Thunder Mountain
• Sacred aboriginal burial ground
• Animals and abandoned mine cars
• Big Thunder Falls

On most days, Mark Twain begins operation as soon the park opens. On days when Fantasmic! is being performed, the riverboat, which plays a role in the show, will close a couple of hours before showtime. On other nights, Mark Twain will run through the evening, using a high intensity rooftop spotlight to point out sights, with the final trip beginning about thirty minutes before park closing. A sign at the loading area will list the day's last trip.

Former sights [ ]

There are a few former sights that the boat passed along the river. The Burning Settler's Cabin which used propane to simulate burning was one. The pipe that fed propane to the burner failed in the early 2000s and has not been relit. There were plans in 2007 to replace the failed feed and again have the cabin burn. However, the Pirate's Lair at Tom Sawyer Island modifications affected these plans. As of now, the burn marks have been removed, the holes patched and the area cleaned up. The front lawn area now has a table, picnic-like decorations and clothes on a clothes line. What makes this odd is while the rest of Tom Sawyer Island appears as if it has been invaded by pirates, this part of the island is the only thing not pirate themed.

Along with the Cabin, the Gullywhumper, one of Disneyland's extinct Keel Boats is now scenery along the river's bank. A mine train from the old Nature's Wonderland attraction was also used as scenery. The Mine Train is on its original track and used to border Cascade Peak, a man-made fiberglass hill complete with waterfall which was bulldozed in 1998. The train was removed in June 2010 for restoration. Also, one of the rafts to Tom Sawyer's Island was marooned just in front of the no longer burning cabin and is now scenery.

History [ ]

A Mississippi steamboat was included in the plans for the first Disney amusement park that was to be built across the street from his Walt Disney Studios in Burbank, California. Although this park was abandoned in favor of the much larger Disneyland , the plan for having a riverboat attraction was retained.

Because Mark Twain was the first functional paddlewheeler built in the United States in fifty years, the WED designers conducted extensive research to build it like riverboats were built in the heyday of steam powered ships. The decks were assembled at the Disney Studios at Burbank, while the 105-foot hull was constructed at Todd Shipyards, Los Angeles Division, San Pedro, California (where portions of Columbia were built years later). [1]

Joe Fowler , Disneyland's construction supervisor and a former navy admiral, insisted on creating a drydock for the ship along what was to be the Rivers of America. Walt Disney , dismayed at how much land was taken up by the massive excavation, referred to the drydock first as "Joe's Ditch", and then later, "Fowler's Harbor", the name by which it goes by today. However, Disney remained a supporter of the riverboat itself, funding its construction out of his own pocket when corporate funds fell short. On the first "fill-the-river" day, the water that was pumped into the Rivers of America soaked through the riverbed. Fowler quickly found a supply of clay to replace the soil stabilizer used to line the river, and the second "fill-the-river" day was successful.

Mark Twain had her maiden voyage on July 13, 1955, four days before the park officially opened, for a private party celebrating Walt and Lillian Disney 's 30th wedding anniversary. Before the party, as Fowler was checking to make sure everything would be ready for the 300 invited guests, he found Lillian sweeping the decks of debris and joined in to help her.

Disneyland's opening day brought further problems for Mark Twain . Actress Irene Dunne, star of the movie Showboat , had trouble breaking a bottle of water (from many major American rivers) across the vessel's bow for her christening on Dateline Disney . During the riverboat's first official voyage, when the crowd moved to one side of the boat to view a passing scene of an Indian encampment or other sight, the boat would list from the side and water poured over the deck, as no one had determined Mark Twain' s maximum safe passenger capacity.

This oversight caused Mark Twain to almost capsize on a voyage a few days later when ride operators continued to wave more than 500 guests on board until the deck neared the water line. As the ship traversed the sparsely vegetated river route, it came loose from its track and got stuck in the muddy banks. Immediately, the park established a maximum capacity of 300 passengers, which remains in effect today.

After a rough start, Mark Twain has had a successful 68-year-career as a theme park attraction. During its first few years of operation, passengers could buy a non-alcoholic mint julep aboard or listen to card and checker players re-enact dialogue of that era. Occasionally the Disneyland band would play music on the lower deck bow to entertain both the passengers and the theme park visitors on the river banks. [2]

Mark Twain underwent a major refurbishment during the Spring of 1995, during which all the decks and the boiler were replaced. September 24, 1995 saw the first and only Disney Fantasyland Wedding, to this day, to be held on an attraction, in theme clothing. A local Orange County couple, Kevin and Patricia Sullivan exchanged vows on the bow of the boat as she circled the Rivers of America. The groom's father Ed Sullivan, a 50-year Disney veteran, donned the classic Mark Twain costume for the once in a lifetime ceremony. The couple sealed their vows by pulling the ships steam whistle together. From atop the upper most deck, the couple let loose ropes, unfurling a ship sized JUST MARRIED banner across the stern.

When the Rivers of America was drained in 2002, the boat was noted to have considerable hull damage. It underwent a refurbishment in 2004 to repair the hull, which included replacing the keel. [3] For the park's 50th Anniversary celebration in 2005, a new, more colorful paint job was applied to the durable riverboat.

On January 11, 2016, the Mark Twain Riverboat, along with the other attractions and shows along the Rivers of America, would close temporarily for the construction of a Star Wars -themed land . These attractions reopened on July 29, 2017. [4] [5] [6]

Other Disney theme park riverboats [ ]

Walt disney world [ ].

The Magic Kingdom theme park in Bay Lake, Florida at one time featured two riverboats: Admiral Joe Fowler , a sternwheeler named for Disneyland's construction supervisor, and Richard F. Irvine , a sternwheeler named for a WED executive. There is now one riverboat: the Liberty Belle .

Admiral Joe Fowler served from October 2, 1971, one day after park opening, until the Fall of 1980, when it was retired after less than ten years of operation and it got accidentally destroyed after falling from a crane onto its drydock. [7]

Richard F. Irvine came into service on May 20, 1973 but was renamed The Liberty Belle in 1996 after everything except for the hull, boiler, and engines was stripped off, and an all-new superstructure was constructed from aluminum and vinyl.

Thunder Mesa riverboats (Disneyland Paris) [ ]

The Grim Reaper tows the Mark Twain. c. 2003

The Frontierland area of Disneyland Park has the unique distinction of featuring two riverboats, Mark Twain and Molly Brown . Each riverboat features a recorded conversation between the Captain and Mark Twain or Molly Brown. Since the storyline takes place in the fictional town of Thunder Mesa, most of the spiel deals with the sights of Big Thunder Mountain , Phantom Manor , Wilderness Island, Smuggler's Cove, an old snoring fisherman, and a geyser field containing dinosaur remains.

• Mark Twain is based on the Anaheim Park's original riverboat, a sternwheeler.
• Molly Brown , named for Titanic -survivor Molly Brown, is the only sidewheeler in a Disney Park.

On May 16, 2005, Molly Brown' s engine overheated as the boat rounded the corner at the back of the Rivers of the Far West. Although there was no visible fire, smoke damaged the ship and her engines, rendering her immobile. Guests were ferried ashore by the River Rogue Keelboats. The engine system was badly damaged and Molly Brown remained out of operation for many months, while Mark Twains ongoing refurbishment at the dry dock was finished. In September 2005, Molly Brown was moved to the dry dock, and in March 2006, Mark Twain finally resumed operation from Thunder Mesa Riverboat Landing. However, it was not until September that Molly Brown' s long refurbishment finally began, and was completed in late April 2007. [8]

Yet, in 2010, Molly Brown had to be rebuilt from scratch. On March 25, 2011, she was back in business, with a new recording of Molly Brown's speech in English, which used to be in French. The Mark Twain hasn’t operated since 2011, and has spent most of that time sitting in dry dock. [9] In 2014, MiceAge reported that the Mark Twain was falling apart due to lack of maintenance, and is in danger of scrapping.

For years, it was a regular Halloween tradition to have a giant Grim Reaper barge tow the Mark Twain along the river route, as part of a seasonal retheme of Frontierland to "Halloweenland".

Tokyo Disneyland [ ]

Tokyo Disneyland 's Mark Twain riverboat is so large that it is required by law to be registered. Its home port is listed as Urayasu. From the time of its opening until September 2006 its sponsor was Nippon Suisan Kaisha.

Technical [ ]

Mark Twain riverboat burns biodiesel fuel to heat its boiler, continuously heating water into steam, which is then routed to two pistons that turn the paddlewheel. Spent exhaust is then routed back to the boiler.

The riverboat is guided through the Rivers of America via an I-beam track, which is hidden under the green and brown dyed river water.

The boat draws only in of water, for the river is relatively shallow. At its deepest point it is no more than 8 feet near the switch at Fowler's Harbor, where it resides when not in operation.

The boat uses clean, fresh water from a tank on board to prevent contaminants from the water in the Rivers of America from fouling the boiler.

References [ ]

• ↑ " Todd Pacific Shipyards Corporation, Los Angeles Division. Long-Range Facilities Plan. Contract MA-8O-SAC-O1O29 " (31 July 1981).  
• ↑ Wadley, Carma (October 21, 2005). " Man who sank the Mark Twain ", Deseret Morning News . Retrieved on 16 October 2006 .  
• ↑ Mark Twain Riverboat . RideRefurbs.com (February 4, 2004). Archived from the original on 2006-09-19. Retrieved on 2006-10-18.
• ↑ " Season of the Force Begins November 16 at Disneyland Park in Southern California ".
• ↑ Glover, Erin (July 28, 2016). " Disneyland Railroad and Rivers of America Attractions to Reopen Summer 2017 at Disneyland Park ". Disney Parks Blog. Retrieved on July 28, 2016.
• ↑ " Disneyland Railroad, Rivers of America Attractions Set to Reopen Saturday After Yearlong Closure ".
• ↑ " Admiral Joe Fowler Riverboat ". Walt Dated World. Retrieved on 2006-10-17.
• ↑ " Thunder Mesa Riverboat Landing ". Retrieved on 2006-10-16.
• ↑ " 10 Abandoned Disney Attractions that are "Standing but not Operating" ". themeparktourist.com . Theme Park Tourist. Retrieved on 21 October 2014.
• 2 Inside Out 2
• 3 Riley Andersen

Make unforgettable memories on our riverboat cruises in Hannibal, Missouri!

To create lifelong memories for our guests and to inspire a sense of wonder and appreciation for the Mississippi River and the people and places it has touched throughout history.

We strive to educate and entertain our guests with informative commentary and engaging activities, from live music and storytelling to interactive exhibits and demonstrations. We are committed to operating our riverboat in an environmentally responsible manner, minimizing our impact on the river and its ecosystem.

Meet our captains

Steve Terry is the proud captain and owner of the Mark Twain Riverboat in Hannibal, Missouri. With a lifelong passion for the Mississippi River and a deep appreciation for its history and culture, He has dedicated his career to sharing this special place with others. He brings his extensive knowledge of the river to every cruise, sharing fascinating stories and historical facts with his guests. He has also invested in sustainable practices and initiatives to minimize the riverboat's impact on the environment. Through his leadership and vision, he has made the Mark Twain Riverboat a beloved institution in Hannibal and a must-see attraction for visitors from around the world. He takes great pride in providing his guests with an unforgettable journey on the Mississippi River.

Welcome Aboard!

The Mark Twain has been a unique feature on the Hannibal riverfront for more than 30 years. As a family-owned business since 1997, we strive to offer you a unique riverboat experience on the Mighty Mississippi, whether you’re a Hannibal resident or visitor. Choose between our two daily cruise offerings: our Sightseeing Cruise and our evening Dinner Cruise. Whether you are looking to spend the day on the river taking in the sights or dining on the river at sunset, Mark Twain Riverboat has something for everyone.

• Built in 1964 at Dubuque Boiler and Boatworks
• 120 feet long, 33 feet wide, 6-foot draft
• 350 passenger capacity
• Inspected annually by the USCG
• Wheelchair accessible w/limitations (not 100% wheelchair access)

Why choose us?

A Glimpse At Missouri Through The Lens Of A Famous Author On The Mississippi River

A Mississippi River cruise aboard Mark Twain Riverboat Co. allows you to enjoy a short excursion from Hannibal during the more pleasant weather months of the year. Just 100 miles away from St. Louis, our Mississippi River boat cruise is the only cruise that departs from Mark Twain's boyhood home.

River cruising gives you the time and space to fully immerse yourself in Mark Twain's story and the Mississippi River, getting to know the inspiration behind his books. We handle every detail for you from departure to dinner on our Mississippi river cruises, making it possible for you to fully relax and enjoy our modern riverboat.

Cruising down the river is a great way to unwind and enjoy nature after a busy week. Hannibal, Missouri is home to some of the most scenic riverfront views in the Midwest!

Informative

Our cruise guides are experts in their field and love to share their knowledge about this beautiful city. They'll educate you all about the history of the area and its inhabitants, so you can really get an insider's look at this fascinating area.

Family-friendly

Our cruises are great for families with children of all ages, so bring your whole crew along with you! We have plenty of activities that will keep you occupied during the day and night.

Enjoy the beauty of the Mighty Mississippi, Hannibal MO

Hannibal is a historic city with a lot of charm and character. The city is situated on the Mississippi River, making it a prime spot for cruising.

Here are a few facts about the area:

• Mark Twain is the most famous person from Hannibal, Mo, but we also have several other famous people that have called Hannibal home.
• The city is home to the oldest standing building in Missouri, which was built in 1819 and still stands today.
• One of the few places in the world where you can see a double sunset

Frequently asked questions

Can we modify existing itineraries.

To some extent – yes. Sometimes we will have to because the weather isn’t always ideal and we want to stay in shallow, calm waters to keep the trip enjoyable.

What is the duration of the cruises?

Our cruises last approximately one to two hours

Are food and drinks available on board?

Yes, we offer a variety of food and drinks, including a snack bar and a full-service bar.

Is smoking allowed on board?

No, smoking is not allowed onboard.

Is the Mark Twain Riverboat wheelchair accessible?

We are wheelchair accessible on the lower deck. However, there is no lift to the upper deck and wheelchairs do not fit in the bathrooms.

Book your cruise today .

dark arts criticism

Mark Twain’s Connections to the Greatest Mississippi Riverboat Disasters of the 19th Century

Everyone loves Mark Twain (nee Samuel Clemens). He was even one of the first popular American authors to be popular in Russia of all places. While he was in fact one of the first Americans to meet the Czar of Russia, he was also later popular with the Bolsheviks who prized his revolutionary stances. He remains a popular literary figure there to this day.

Of course, this is how I came to learn more about Mark Twain biographically, due to my interest in Russian subversion of America in media and my investigation of Orson Welles (he’s conservatively connected to at least 7 proven or strongly suspected Russian spies by the way as first degree network connections). Like Welles, Twain had odd connections to Russia for someone of his day — and while we might chalk this up to a financially irresponsible lifestyle and Twain’s constant desire to expand markets for his books — ultimately Twain was an innovator in painting a picture of an immoral America to the world (see Orson Welles as Harry Lime in The Third Man vs the controversy over release of Twain’s Huckleberry Finn in 1884). Not to get too Puritanical here, but there are also overlaps in themes of promotion of concepts like black magic and relative evil in the work of Twain and Welles as well (see Twain’s sympathetic portrayal of Satan / 44 / 404 in his final book ” The Mysterious Stranger”).

I won’t pull any punches here. I read Mark Twain as a school kid like many of you most likely did. I know it is sacrilege almost to disparage his memory. In any case, I think you might find what I have learned about him interesting. (Full disclosure I am putting together a draft which assesses Twain’s lifestyle against the Hare Psychopathy Checklist for a research paper which will be considered in a forensic psychology journal.) 

The short story is that the young Samuel Clemens was a “cub” riverboat pilot who worked on the Steamboat Pennsylvania with pilot William Brown. In late 1857, the boat was involved in a collision with the steamer Vicksburg; leading to several months of repairs to the Pennsylvania. Following this crash, the relationship between the rigorous William Brown and Clemens never recovered. Later, Clemens (writing as Twain) confessed:

“I often wanted to kill Brown, but this would not answer. A cub had to take everything his boss gave, in the way of vigorous comment and criticism; and we all believed that there was a United States law making it a penitentiary offense to strike or threaten a pilot who was on duty. However, I could imagine myself killing Brown; there was no law against that; and that was the thing I used always to do the moment I was abed. Instead of going over my river in my mind, as was my duty, I threw business aside for pleasure, and killed Brown. I killed Brown every night for months; not in old, stale, commonplace ways, but in new and picturesque ones – ways that were sometimes surprising for freshness of design and ghastliness of situation and environment.” – Mark Twain in Life on the Mississippi 

What this quote from Twain’s later life omits is the terrible tragedy which befell the Pennsylvania on June 13, 1858. It exploded on route killing approximately 250 of 450 passengers on board. All four boilers exploded. The explosion sent pilot William Brown flying into the water and to his death. It also killed Samuel Clemens’ brother, a promising young man by the name of Henry. Just prior to the explosion, the elder Clemens had arranged a place for him on the boat as the “mud clerk”. Fortunately for Samuel Clemens / Mark Twain, due to his conflicts with Brown, he had apparently been removed from his post some 8 days before and lingered somewhere down river on another boat and would follow up the Pennsylvania in short time.

It is easy to see Mark Twain’s conflict with Brown in its autobiographical context as described in “Life on the Mississippi”. However, according to a controversial 1912 biography by Albert Bigelow Paine, just before the disaster, and securing his brother a job — Twain apparently had a very prophetic dream that his brother would die. He made a point to demonstrate to their sister Pamela that he felt he had had some spiritual, or paranormal experience in this regard. ( http://anomalyinfo.com/Stories/mark-twains-prophetic-dream ) This detail is really impossible to corroborate, but significant in light of further data to follow which may make it a truly plausible claim of Twain’s.

Upon arriving at the scene of the exchange where a makeshift hospital had been set up to treat the victims of the Pennsylvania disaster, the young Henry Clemens was laying, dying on his deathbed. Samuel Clemens gave a tremendously dramatic performance which was noted by the crowds in attendance.

“We witnessed one of the most affecting scenes at the Exchange yesterday that has ever been seen. The brother of Mr. Henry Clemens, second clerk of the Pennsylvania, who now lies dangerously ill from the injuries received by the explosion of that boat, arrived in the city yesterday afternoon, on the steamer A. T. LACY. He hurried to the Exchange to see his brother, and on approaching the bedside of the wounded man, his feelings so much overcame him, at the scalded and emaciated form before him, that he sunk to the floor overpowered. There was scarcely a dry eye in the house; the poor sufferers shed tears at the sight. This brother had been pilot on the Pennsylvania, but fortunately for him, had remained in New Orleans when the boat started up.” – Memphis Eagle and Enquirer, 16 June 1858

In fact, some sources have examined this incident in Clemens’ life and and considered how his lifetime of confessed guilt and history of moral equivocations — including on the reputation of his brother may be evidence of murder . Specifically in the context that Henry Clemens did not die immediately – and may not have even succumbed to his wounds from the explosion – but instead may have died of an overdose of morphine which was administered by Samuel Clemens or at his behest.

Clemens was not an overly emotional fellow. His performance on the scene may not ring true in that sense. However, he did demonstrate many signs in life of being cunning and manipulative, one of the signs of psychopathy.

“It is easier to fool people than to convince people that they’ve been fooled”.

In general, he had alignment with psychopathic traits including living a grandiose financial lifestyle (for example going broke because he hired servants and bought a mansion when he could have lived well off of his writing income; not paying back debtors (until late in life when he may have had a moral reckoning); chasing the gold rush and coming up broke with dreams to be the best dressed man in San Francisco). He later institutionalized his epileptic daughter following the death of her mother on likely false charges she was dangerous even as he engaged in a potential romantic relationship with his young assistant. Later he would fire the assistant on similarly trumped up charges. As we see above, Twain/Clemens seems to have confessed to harboring murderous fantasies in some regard. The juvenile delinquent stories of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn were drawn from his own mischievous youth. Of course, he has at one time dreamed of being a cocaine dealer which may signify his own need for stimulation. He surely confessed to being lazy and frequently bored. Controversially, he “collected” little girls, which his family also covered up and put an end to. His writings can easily be seen as glib and charming; yet belying the sometimes terrifying dual persona he projected to his own family and which they themselves continued to obscure in the years following his death. Many of these signs may be interpreted as hallmarks of psychopathy.

He did not (at least initially) write books for emotional satisfaction, or to make the world a better place for example — on the subject of authorship he said :

“But I’d made up my mind to one thing–I wasn’t going to touch a book unless there was money in it, and a good deal of it.”

Back to the Pennsylvania. Riverboat explosions were common in 19th century America. They were a dangerous mode of transportation. From the 1830 – 1870 period, there seem to have been about 2300 deaths on steamboats due to fires and explosions and dozens of accidents. This number is very loose, so I honestly expect it is higher. Normal casualties would be in the tens, not hundreds however. The most notable of these was the explosion of the ship Sultana in 1865 which was overloaded with Union Army prisoners of war who had been released from the notorious Andersonville prison. Up to 1800 people died in that tragic explosion of the approximately 2100 who had been overloaded on the boat. Subtracting this number from the total riverboat deaths of the 1830-1870 time frame, we’re left with about 500. Subtracting the 250 who died as a result of the four boiler explosion of the Pennsylvania in 1858, we can see that these two disasters make up a disproportionate share of the deaths even if the figures aren’t exactly correct.

What is notable beyond the outlier nature of the casualty data in the case of the Sultana and Pennsylvania, is that both have potential motives behind them and that Mark Twain is the common link between the disasters.

Twain was a confederate soldier for a short time. In The Private History of a Campaign that Failed , Twain talked about his meeting with Ab. (Absalom?) C. Grimes during an early part of the civil war in a somewhat hagiographic manner. In fact, they served in the same company and Twain enlisted on the same day Grimes had been accepted, according to Grimes’ obituary. Grimes later went on to become a notable confederate spy by Twain’s own account. Grimes and Twain might have gotten along well at their initial meeting, beyond being comrades in arms, as Grimes was a riverboat pilot too.

Later, Grimes would serve under Thomas Courtenay, a Missourian confederate spy chief who was the inventor of the “Coal Torpedo” — a 19th century IED device which was a lump of iron molded to resemble a piece of coal, fitted with a large shell, rolled in beeswax, dipped in coal dust and slipped into the coal of Union riverboats. The coal torpedo was used to sabotage and blow up enemy boats in a form of 19th century civil war guerrilla tactics. Grimes’ close associate, Robert Louden had supposedly confessed on his deathbed to the sabotage of the Sultana with a coal torpedo. Grimes did not corroborate this, but did say, “let sleeping dogs lie” when pressed on the matter. This deathbed confession was investigated in the interesting “History Detectives” episode here : http://www.pbs.org/opb/historydetectives/investigation/civil-war-sabotage/ .

Nobody can truly say whether either disaster was an accident or not. But both of these events were extreme outliers; with very plausible motives and if all of the evidence is to be believed — very compelling suspects. In any case, I think with the information and tools we have today, both of these events would get a lot closer look from investigators with an eye on the possible motivations. I wonder what Grimes and Samuel Clemens talked about when they met.

Thought some of you might find this interesting.

Old Times on the Mississippi (Part V)

The fifth installment in a seven-part series about the author’s youthful training as a riverboat pilot

V. “Sounding.” Faculties Peculiarly Necessary to a Pilot.

When the river is very low, and one’s steamboat is “drawing all the water” there is in the channel, — or a few inches more, as was often the case in the old times, — one must be painfully circumspect in his piloting. We used to have to “sound” a number of particularly bad places almost every trip when the river was at a very low stage.

Sounding is done in this way. The boat ties up at the shore, just above the shoal crossing; the pilot not on watch takes his “cub” or steersman and a picked crew of men (sometimes an officer also), and goes out in the yawl provided the boat has not that rare and sumptuous luxury, a regularly-devised “sounding-boat”—and proceeds to hunt for the best water, the pilot on duty watching his movements through a spy-glass, meantime, and in some instances assisting by signals of the boat’s whistle, signifying “try higher up” or “try lower down;” for the surface of the water, like an oil-painting, is more expressive and intelligible when inspected from a little distance than very close at hand. The whistle signals are seldom necessary, however; never, perhaps, except when the wind confuses the significant ripples upon the water’s surface. When the yawl has reached the shoal place, the speed is slackened, the pilot begins to sound the depth with a pole ten or twelve feet long, and the steersman at the tiller obeys the order to “hold her up to starboard;” or “let her fall off to larboard;” 1 or “steady—steady as you go.”

When the measurements indicate that the yawl is approaching the shoalest part of the reef, the command is given to “ease all!” Then the men stop rowing and the yawl drifts with the current. The next order is, “Stand by with the buoy!” The moment the shallowest point is reached, the pilot delivers the order, “Let go the buoy!” and over she goes. If the pilot is not satisfied, he sounds the place again; if he finds better water higher up or lower down, he removes the buoy to that place. Being finally satisfied, he gives the order, and all the men stand their oars straight up in the air, in line; a blast from the boat’s whistle indicates that the signal has been seen; then the men “give way” on their oars and lay the yawl alongside the buoy; the steamer comes creeping carefully down, is pointed straight at the buoy, husbands her power for the coming struggle, and presently, at the critical moment, turns on all her steam and goes grinding and wallowing over the buoy and the sand, and gains the deep water beyond. Or maybe she doesn’t; maybe she “strikes and swings.” Then she has to while away several hours (or days) sparring herself off.

Sometimes a buoy is not laid at all, but the yawl goes ahead, hunting the best water, and the steamer follows along in its wake. Often there is a deal of fun and excitement about sounding, especially if it is a glorious summer day, or a blustering night. But in winter the cold and the peril take most of the fun out of it.

A buoy is nothing but a board four or five feet long, with one end turned up; it is a reversed boot-jack. It is anchored on the shoalest part of the reef by a rope with a heavy stone made fast to the end of it. But for the resistance of the turned-up end, the current would pull the buoy under water. At night a paper lantern with a candle in it is fastened on top of the buoy, and this can be seen a mile or more, a little glimmering spark in the waste of blackness.

Nothing delights a cub so much as an opportunity to go out sounding. There is such an air of adventure about it; often there is danger; it is so gaudy and man-of-war-like to sit up in the stern-sheets and steer a swift yawl; there is something fine about the exultant spring of the boat when an experienced old sailor crew throw their souls into the oars; it is lovely to see the white foam stream away from the bows; there is music in the rush of the water; it is deliciously exhilarating, in summer, to go speeding over the breezy expanses of the river when the world of wavelets is dancing in the sun. It is such grandeur, too, to the cub, to get a chance to give an order; for often the pilot will simply say, “Let her go about!” and leave the rest to the cub, who instantly cries, in his sternest tone of command, “Ease starboard! Strong on the larboard! Starboard give way! With a will, men!” The cub enjoys sounding for the further reason that the eyes of the passengers are watching all the yawl’s movements with absorbing interest, if the time be daylight; and if it be night he knows that those same wondering eyes are fastened upon the yawl’s lantern as it glides out into the gloom and fades away in the remote distance.

One trip a pretty girl of sixteen spent her time in our pilot-house with her uncle and aunt, every day and all day long. I fell in love with her. So did Mr. T——‘s cub, Tom G——. Tom and I had been bosom friends until this time; but now a coolness began to arise. I told the girl a good many of my river adventures, and made myself out a good deal of a hero; Tom tried to make himself appear to be a hero, too, and succeeded to some extent, but then he always had a way of embroidering. However, virtue is its own reward, so I was a barely perceptible trifle ahead in the contest. About this time something happened which promised handsomely for me: the pilots decided to sound the crossing at the head of 21. This would occur about nine or ten o’clock at night, when the passengers would be still up; it would be Mr. T——’s watch, therefore my chief would have to do the sounding. We had a perfect love of a sounding-boat—long, trim, graceful, and as fleet as a greyhound; her thwarts were cushioned; she carried twelve oarsmen; one of the mates was always sent in her to transmit orders to her crew, for ours was a steamer where no end of “style” was put on.

We tied up at the shore above 21, and got ready. It was a foul night, and the river was so wide, there, that a lands-man’s uneducated eyes could discern no opposite shore through such a gloom. The passengers were alert and interested; everything was satisfactory. As I hurried through the engine-room, picturesquely gotten up in storm toggery, I met Tom, and could not forbear delivering myself of a mean speech: —

“Ain’t you glad you don’t have to go out sounding?”

Tom was passing on, but he quickly turned, and said, —

“Now just for that, you can go and get the sounding-pole yourself. I was going after it, but I’d see you in Halifax, now, before I’d do it.”

“Who wants you to get it? I don’t. It’s in the sounding-boat.”

“It ain’t, either. It’s been new-painted; and it’s been up on the lady’s-cabin guards two days, drying.”

I flew back, and shortly arrived among the crowd of watching and wondering ladies just in time to hear the command:

“Give way, men!”

I looked over, and there was the gallant sounding-boat booming away, the unprincipled Tom presiding at the tiller, and my chief sitting by him with the sounding-pole which I had been sent on a fool’s errand to fetch. Then that young girl said to me, —

“Oh, how awful to have to go out in that little boat on such a night! Do you think there is any danger?”

I would rather have been stabbed. I went off, full of venom, to help in the pilot-house. By and by the boat’s lantern disappeared, and after an interval a wee spark glimmered upon the face of the water a mile away. Mr. T—— blew the whistle, in acknowledgment, backed the steamer out, and made for it. We flew along for a while, then slackened steam and went cautiously gliding toward the spark. Presently Mr. T—— exclaimed, —

“Hello, the buoy-lantern’s out!”

He stopped the engines. A moment or two later he said, —

“Why, there it is again!”

So he came ahead on the engines once more, and rang for the leads. Gradually the water shoaled up, and then began to deepen again! Mr. T—— muttered: —

“Well, I don’t understand this. I believe that buoy has drifted off the reef. Seems to be a little too far to the left. No matter, it is safest to run over it, anyhow.”

So, in that solid world of darkness, we went creeping down on the light. Just as our bows were in the act of plowing over it, Mr. T—— seized the bell-ropes, rang a startling peal, and exclaimed, —

“My soul, it’s the sounding-boat!”

A sudden chorus of wild alarms burst out far below—a pause—and then a sound of grinding and crashing followed. Mr. T—— exclaimed, —

“There! the paddle-wheel has ground the sounding-boat to lucifer matches! Run! See who is killed!”

I was on the main deck in the twinkling of an eye. My chief and the third mate and nearly all the men were safe. They had discovered their danger when it was too late to pull out of the way; then, when the great guards overshadowed them a moment later, they were prepared and knew what to do; at my chief’s order they sprang at the right instant, seized the guard, and were hauled aboard. The next moment the sounding-yawl swept aft to the wheel and was struck and splintered to atoms. Two of the men, and the cub Tom, were missing—a fact which spread like wild-fire over the boat. The passengers came flocking to the forward gangway, ladies and all, anxious-eyed, white-faced, and talked in awed voices of the dreadful thing. And often and again I heard them say, “Poor fellows! poor boy, poor boy!”

By this time the boat’s yawl was manned and away, to search for the missing. Now a faint call was heard, off to the left. The yawl had disappeared in the other direction. Half the people rushed to one side to encourage the swimmer with their shouts; the other half rushed the other way to shriek to the yawl to turn about. By the callings, the swimmer was approaching, but some said the sound showed failing strength. The crowd massed themselves against the boiler-deck railings, leaning over and staring into the gloom; and every faint and fainter cry wrung from them such words as “Ah, poor fellow, poor fellow! is there no way to save him?”

But still the cries held out, and drew nearer, and presently the voice said pluckily, —

“I can make it I Stand by with a rope!”

What a rousing cheer they gave him! The chief mate took his stand in the glare of a torch-basket, a coil of rope in his hand, and his men grouped about him. The next moment the swimmer’s face appeared in the circle of light, and in another one the owner of it was hauled aboard, limp and drenched, while cheer on cheer went up. It was that devil Tom.

The yawl crew searched everywhere, but found no sign of the two men. They probably failed to catch the guard, tumbled back, and were struck by the wheel and killed. Tom had never jumped for the guard at all, but had plunged head-first into the river and dived under the wheel. It was nothing; I could have done it easy enough, and I said so; but everybody went on just the same, making a wonderful to-do over that ass, as if he had done something great. That girl couldn’t seem to have enough of that pitiful “hero” the rest of the trip; but little I cared; I loathed her, any way.

The way we came to mistake the sounding-boat’s lantern for the buoy-light was this. My chief said that after laying the buoy befell away and watched it till it seemed to be secure; then he took up a position a hundred yards below it and a little to one side of the steamers course, headed the sounding-boat up-stream, and waited. Having to wait some time, he and the officer got to talking; he looked up when he judged that the steamer was about on the reef; saw that the buoy was gone, but supposed that the steamer had already run over it; he went on with his talk; he noticed that the steamer was getting very close down on him, but that was the correct thing; it was her business to shave him closely, for convenience in taking him aboard; he was expecting her to sheer off, until the last moment; then it flashed upon him that she was trying to run him down, mistaking his lantern for the buoy-light; so he sang out, “Stand by to spring for the guard, men!” and the next instant the jump was made.

But I am wandering from what I was intending to do, that is, make plainer than perhaps appears in my previous papers, some of the peculiar requirements of the science of piloting. First of all, there is one faculty which a pilot must incessantly cultivate until he has brought it to absolute perfection. Nothing short of perfection will do. That faculty is memory. He cannot stop with merely thinking a thing is so and so; he must know it; for this is eminently one of the “exact” sciences. With what scorn a pilot was looked upon, in the old times, if he ever ventured to deal in that feeble phrase “I think,” instead of the vigorous one “I know!” One cannot easily realize what a tremendous thing it is to know every trivial detail of twelve hundred miles of river and know it with absolute exactness. If you will take the longest street in New York, and travel up and down it, conning its features patiently until you know every house and window and door and lamp-post and big and little sign by heart, and know them so accurately that you can instantly name the one you are abreast of when you are set down at random in that street in the middle of an inky black night, you will then have a tolerable notion of the amount and the exactness of a pilot’s knowledge who carries the Mississippi River in his head. And then if you will go on until you know every street crossing, the character, size, and position of the crossing-stones, and the varying depth of mud in each of those numberless places, you will have some idea of what the pilot must know in order to keep a Mississippi steamer out of trouble. Next, if you will take half of the signs in that long street, and change their places once a month, and still manage to know their new positions accurately on dark nights, and keep up with these repeated changes without making any mistakes, you will understand what is required of a pilot’s peerless memory by the fickle Mississippi.

I think a pilot’s memory is about the most wonderful thing in the world. To know the Old and New Testaments by heart, and be able to recite them glibly, forward or backward, or begin at random anywhere in the book and recite both ways and never trip or make a mistake, is no extravagant mass of knowledge, and no marvelous facility, compared to a pilot’s massed knowledge of the Mississippi and his marvelous facility in the handling of it. I make this comparison deliberately, and believe I am not expanding the truth when I do it. Many will think my figure too strong, but pilots will not.

And how easily and comfortably the pilot’s memory does its work; how placidly effortless is its way! how unconsciously it lays up its vast stores, hour by hour, day by day, and never loses or mislays a single valuable package of them all! Take an instance. Let a leadsman cry, “Half twain! half twain! half twain! half twain! half twain!” until it becomes as monotonous as the ticking of a clock; let conversation be going on all the time, and the pilot be doing his share of the talking, and no longer listening to the leadsman; and in the midst of this endless string of half twains let a single “quarter twain!” be interjected, without emphasis, and then the half twain cry go on again, just as before: two or three weeks later that pilot can describe with precision the boat’s position in the river when that quarter twain was uttered, and give you such a lot of head-marks, stern-marks, and side-marks to guide you, that you ought to be able to take the boat there and put her in that same spot again yourself! The cry of quarter twain did not really take his mind from his talk, but his trained faculties instantly photographed the bearings, noted the change of depth, and laid up the important details for future reference without requiring any assistance from him in the matter. If you were walking and talking with a friend, and another friend at your side kept up a monotonous repetition of the vowel sound A, for a couple of blocks, and then in the midst interjected an R, thus, A, A, A, A, A, R, A, A, A, etc., and gave the R no emphasis, you would not be able to state, two or three weeks afterward, that the R had been put in, nor be able to tell what objects you were passing at the moment it was done. But you could if your memory had been patiently and laboriously trained to do that sort of thing mechanically.

Give a man a tolerably fair memory to start with, and piloting will develop it into a very colossus of capability. But only in the matters it is daily drilled in . A time would come when the man’s faculties could not help noticing landmarks and soundings, and his memory could not help holding on to them with the grip of a vice; but if you asked that same man at noon what he had had for breakfast, it would be ten chances to one that he could not tell you. Astonishing things can be done with the human memory if you will devote it faithfully to one particular line of business.

At the time that wages soared so high on the Missouri River, my chief, Mr. B——, went up there and learned more than a thousand miles of that stream with an ease and rapidity that were astonishing. When he had seen each division once in the daytime and once at night, his education was so nearly complete that he took out a “daylight” license; a few trips later he took out a full license, and went to piloting day and night—and he ranked A1, too.

Mr. B—— placed me as steersman for a while under a pilot whose feats of memory were a constant marvel to me. However, his memory was born in him, I think, not built. For instance, somebody would mention a name. Instantly Mr. J—— would break in: —

“Oh, I knew him . Sallow-faced, red-headed fellow, with a little scar on the side of his throat like a splinter under the flesh. He was only in the Southern trade six months. That was thirteen years ago. I made a trip with him. There was five feet in the upper river then; the Henry Blake grounded at the foot of Tower Island, drawing four and a half; the George Elliott unshipped her rudder on the wreck of the Sunflower”—

“Why, the Sunflower didn’t sink until—”

“ I know when she sunk; it was three years before that, on the 2d of December; Asa Hardy was captain of her, and his brother John was first clerk; and it was his first trip in her, too; Tom Jones told me these things a week afterward in New Orleans; he was first mate of the Sunflower. Captain Hardy stuck a nail in his foot the 6th of July of the next year, and died of the lockjaw on the 15th. His brother John died two years after, — 3d of March, — erysipelas. I never saw either of the Hardys, — they were Alleghany River men, — but people who knew them told me all these things. And they said Captain Hardy, wore yarn socks winter and summer just the same, and his first wife’s name was Jane Shook, — she was from New England, — and his second one died in a lunatic asylum. It was in the blood. She was from Lexington, Kentucky. Name was Horton before she was married.”

And so on, by the hour, the man’s tongue would go. He could not forget anything. It was simply impossible. The most trivial details remained as distinct and luminous in his head, after they had lain there for years, as the most memorable events. His was not simply a pilot’s memory; its grasp was universal. If he were talking about a trifling letter he had received seven years before, he was pretty sure to deliver you the entire screed from memory. And then, with. out observing that he was departing from the true line of his talk, he was more than likely to hurl in a long-drawn parenthetical biography of the writer of that letter; and you were lucky indeed if he did not take up that writer’s relatives, one by one, and give you their biographies, too.

Such a memory as that is a great misfortune. To it, all occurrences are of the same size. Its possessor cannot distinguish an interesting circumstance from an uninteresting one. As a talker, he is bound to clog his narrative with tiresome details and make himself an insufferable bore. Moreover, he cannot stick to his subject. He picks up every little grain of memory he discerns in his way, and so is led aside. Mr. J—— would start out with the honest intention of telling you a vastly funny anecdote about a dog. He would be “so full of laugh” that he could hardly begin; then his memory would start with the dog’s breed and personal appearance; drift into a history of his owner; of his owner’s family, with descriptions of weddings and burials that had occurred in it, together with recitals of congratulatory verses and obituary poetry provoked by the same; then this memory would recollect that one of these events occurred during the celebrated “hard winter” of such and such a year, and a minute description of that winter would follow, along with the names of people who were frozen to death, and statistics showing the high figures which pork and hay went up to. Pork and hay would suggest corn and fodder; corn and fodder would suggest cows and horses; the latter would suggest the circus and certain celebrated bare-back riders; the transition from the circus to the menagerie was easy and natural; from the elephant to equatorial Africa was but a step; then of course the heathen savages would suggest religion; and at the end of three or four hours’ tedious jaw, the watch would change and J—— would go out of the pilot-house muttering extracts from sermons he had heard years before about the efficacy of prayer as a means of grace. And the original first mention would be all you had learned about that dog, after all this waiting and hungering.

A pilot must have a memory; but there are two higher qualities which he must also have. He must have good and quick judgment and decision, and a cool, calm courage that no peril can shake. Give a man the merest trifle of pluck to start with, and by the time he has became a pilot he cannot be unmanned by any danger a steamboat can get into; but one cannot quite say the same for judgment. Judgment is a matter of brains, and a man must start with a good stock of that article or he will never succeed as a pilot.

The growth of courage in the pilot-house is steady all the time, but it does not reach a high and satisfactory condition until some time after the young pilot has been “standing his own watch,” alone and under the staggering weight of all the responsibilities connected with the position. When an apprentice has become pretty thoroughly acquainted with the river, he goes clattering along so fearlessly with his steamboat, night or day, that he presently begins to imagine that it is his courage that animates him; but the first time the pilot steps out and leaves him to his own devices he finds out it was the other man’s. He discovers that the article has been left out of his own cargo altogether. The whole river is bristling with exigencies in a moment; he is not prepared for them; he does not know how to meet them; all his knowledge forsakes him; and within fifteen minutes he is as white as a sheet and scared almost to death. Therefore pilots wisely train these cubs by various strategic tricks to look danger in the face a little more calmly. A favorite way of theirs is to play a friendly swindle upon the candidate.

Mr. B—— served me in this fashion once, and for years afterward I used to blush even in my sleep when I thought of it. I had become a good steersman; so good, indeed, that I had all the work to do on our watch, night and day; Mr. B—— seldom made a suggestion tome; all he ever did was to take the wheel on particularly bad bights or in particularly bad crossings, land the boat when she needed to be landed, play gentleman of leisure nine tenths of the watch, and collect the wages. The lower river was about bank-full, and if anybody had questioned my ability to run any crossing between Cairo and New Orleans without help or instruction, I should have felt irreparably hurt. The idea of being afraid of any crossing in the lot, in the day-time , was a thing too preposterous for contemplation. Well, one matchless summer’s day I was bowling down the bend above island 66, brim full of self-conceit and carrying my nose as high as a giraffe’s, when Mr. B—— said, —

“I am going below awhile. I suppose you know the next crossing?”

This was almost an affront. It was about the plainest and simplest crossing in the whole river. One couldn’t come to any harm, whether he ran it right or not; and as for depth, there never had been any bottom there. I knew all this, perfectly well.

“Know how to run it? Why, I can run it with my eyes shut.”

“How much water is there in it?”

“Well, that is an odd question. I couldn’t get bottom there with a church steeple.”

“You think so, do you?”

The very tone of the question shook my confidence. That was what Mr. B—— was expecting. He left, without saying anything more. I began to imagine all sorts of things. Mr. B——, unknown to me, of course, sent somebody down to the forecastle with some mysterious instructions to the leadsmen, another messenger was sent to whisper among the officers, and then Mr. B went into hiding behind a smoke-stack where he could observe results. Presently the captain stepped out on the hurricane deck; next the chief mate appeared; then a clerk. Every moment or two a straggler was added to my audience; and before I got to the head of the island I had fifteen or twenty people assembled down there under my nose. I began to wonder what the trouble was. As I started across, the captain glanced aloft at me and said, with a sham uneasiness in his voice, —

“Where is Mr. B——?”

“Gone below, sir.”

But that did the business for me. My imagination began to construct dangers out of nothing, and they multiplied faster than I could keep the run of them. All at once I imagined I saw shoal water ahead! The wave of coward agony that surged though me then came near dislocating every joint in me. All my confidence in that crossing vanished. I seized the bell-rope; dropped it, ashamed; seized it again; dropped it once more; clutched it tremblingly once again, and pulled it so feebly that I could hardly hear the stroke myself. Captain and mate sang out instantly, and both together, —

“Starboard lead there! and quick about it!”

This was another shock. I began to climb the wheel like a squirrel; but I would hardly get the boat started to port before I would see new dangers on that side, and away I would spin to the other; only to find perils accumulating to starboard, and be crazy to get to port again. Then came the leadsman’s sepulchral cry: —

“D-e-e-p four!”

Deep four in a bottomless crossing! The terror of it took my breath away.

“M-a-r-k three ! M-a-r-k three Quarter less three! Half twain!”

This was frightful! I seized the bell-ropes and stopped the engines.

“Quarter twain! Quarter twain! Mark twain!”

I was helpless. I did not know what in the world to do. I was quaking from head to foot, and I could have hung my hat on my eyes, they stuck out so far.

“Quarter less twain! Nine and a half !”

We were drawing nine! My hands were in a nerveless flutter. I could not ring a bell intelligibly with them. I flew to the speaking-tube and shouted to the engineer, —

“Oh, Ben, if you love me, back her! Quick, Ben! Oh, back the immortal soul out of her!”

I heard the door close gently. I looked around, and there stood Mr. B——, smiling a bland, sweet smile. Then the audience on the hurricane deck sent up a shout of humiliating laughter. I saw it all, now, and I felt meaner than the meanest man in human history. I laid in the lead, set the boat in her marks, came ahead on the engines, and said, —

“It was a fine trick to play on an orphan, wasn’t it? I suppose I’ll never hear the last of how I was ass enough to heave the lead at the head of 66.”

“Well, no, you won’t, maybe. In fact I hope you won’t; for I want you to learn something by that experience. Didn’t you know there was no bottom in that crossing?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“Very well, then. You shouldn’t have allowed me or anybody else to shake your confidence in that knowledge. Try to remember that. And another thing: when you get into a dangerous place, don’t turn coward. That isn’t going to help matters any.”

It was a good enough lesson, but pretty hardly learned. Yet about the hardest part of it was that for months I so often had to hear a phrase which I had conceived a particular distaste for. It was, “Oh, Ben, if you love me, back her!”

• The term “larboard is never used at sea, now, to signify the left hand; but was always used on the river in my time. ↩

Past Factory

Facts About The Life Of Mark Twain

Posted: November 10, 2023 | Last updated: November 11, 2023

Adventurous, eloquent and funny, Mark Twain wrote the classics The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn . He is quoted every day for his wit and wisdom. But this author did much more than write stories. Learn how Twain's early steamboating and gold mining careers influenced his future works. From inventions to personal passions you probably didn't know about, here are mind-boggling facts about the life of Mark Twain. How much do you know about this influential author?

In His Early Life, He Witnessed A Lot Of Death

Mark Twain was born as Samuel Clemens in 1835. The sixth of seven children, Clemens remained frail and sickly until he turned seven. Of his six siblings, only four would survive until adulthood. The family grew up in Hannibal, Missouri, where violence occurred frequently.

When Clemens was nine, he witnessed a local man murder a cattle rancher. At ten years old, he watched a slave die when a white overseer struck him with a piece of iron. With the Civil War fast approaching, young Clemens would continue to confront death for the forseeable future.

His Family Owned Slaves

In his early life, Clemens grew up around slaves and therefore perceived slavery as normal. His Uncle Dan owned slaves that were well treated, and Clemens would often listen to their stories. Dan later became the inspiration for the character Jim in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn .

Unfortunately, when Clemens was young, his father mistreated one slave in front of his son. Throughout Mark Twain's writings, he struggled with these different sides of slavery. Later, his wife Olivia would persuade Twain to support the abolitionist movement.

He Had Little Formal Education

Samuel Clemens only attended school up until his preteen years. He began working after his father died of pneumonia in 1847. Clemens was 12 years old when he began his first full-time job as an apprentice printer. He studied at local libraries in his free time.

However, his work did teach Clemens in its own unique way. In 1851, he worked in typesetting for a newspaper owned by his older brother Orion. There, he eventually wrote short, satirical articles for publication. By 17, Clemens already moved out and started working in cities such as New York City and Philadelphia.

His Brother's Death Scarred Him

In 1857, at 22-years-old, Clemens apprenticed as a steamboat pilot on the Mississippi River. A year later, he convinced his younger brother Henry to join him. Then, in June, a boiler exploded near Memphis in Pennsylvania. Nineteen-year-old Henry was one of the victims who perished in the blast.

Though Clemens ached from the incident, he still managed to get his steamboat license in 1859. He left the river boating career when the Civil War broke out in 1861. Sadly, Clemens felt responsible for his brother's passing for the rest of his life.

He Joined The Confederate Army

In 1861, the Civil War swept through Hannibal, Missouri. Clemens joined the Marion Rangers, a pro-Confederate militia, for a couple of weeks. The group ended up disbanding after hearing that Union general Ulysses Grant headed their way.

At the time, he did not have strong ideological convictions about the Civil War, likely joining the militia out of loyalty to the Southern states. Oddly enough, later in life, Clemens would befriend Ulysses Grant, later publishing the president's memoir in 1885.

He Tried Gold Mining

In the 1860s, Twain's older brother Orion worked as a secretary to the governor of Nevada. Having no other job, Twain decided to assist his brother in Nevada and aimed to strike it rich through gold mining. Eventually, he traveled 40 miles across the desert to Humbolt County.

He found plenty of fools gold and quartz veins, but nothing worth the mass of wealth he had sought. Disappointed, he returned to Nevada. His gold mining experience can be summed up in the famous quote, "A mine is a hole in the ground with a liar standing next to it."

To Avoid Duels, He Traveled All Over California

In May 1864, Mark Twain challenged a rival newspaperman to a duel in Nevada. Before the fight took place, however, Twain fled. He headed to San Francisco, supposedly to avoid the territory's anti-dueling laws.

After working a tedious job as a reporter for about a year, Twain posted bail for his friend who got arrested in a bar brawl. Twain didn't have the funds to cover the bond, so he skipped town with his friend and traveled to Tuolumne County. There, he published his first hit story.

Mark Twain Was Not His Original Pen Name

Before he began publishing under his famous pen name in 1863, Clemens juggled other name ideas. These failed names included W. Epaminondas Adrastus Blab and Thomas Jefferson Snodgrass.

Eventually, Clemens settled on a name inspired by his steamboating years. Steamboats ideally sailed on rivers two fathoms deep, or 12 feet. In sailing slang, "mark" means fathom (six feet) and "twain" means two. The sailor checking the river depth would call out "mark twain" to mean the river depth equals 12 feet, "safe water" for riverboats back then.

His First Hit Story Sprung From Jumping Frogs

While at a bar in Calaveras County, California, Twain listened to a man tell a story about a jumping frog contest. This story would later inspire him in 1865, when, back in San Francisco, his friend wrote him asking for a contribution to his storybook.

By the time Twain wrote and finalized his jumping frog story, the book had already been published. But the publisher sent the piece to the Saturday Press in New York, where it became a hit. "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County" was reprinted in various newspapers throughout 1865.

He Anonymously Reviewed His Own Work

In 1867, Twain published his first full novel, Innocents Abroad . The work stemmed from a five-month Mediterranean cruise where Twain wrote humorously about the sights for American newspapers. The book became a bestseller, but not without a little help from Twain himself.

Innocents Abroad reached the top charts after an anonymous critic raved about the work. The anonymous critic was none other than Twain himself. Fortunately, this 'anonymous' review was followed up by another review in The Atlantic by critic William Dean Howells, who eventually became Twain's good friend.

His Wife Had Been Miraculously Healed

When Twain met Olivia Langdon, he witnessed a miraculous healing session. A faith healer named Dr. Newton prayed over Olivia, had her sit up, and watched her take several steps. Before then, she couldn't stand without nausea and fainting spells.

Twain later asked Newton how he performed this. Newton didn't know for sure, but believed some subtle electric energy in the body might have had something to do with it. In any case, Twain was grateful because he married Olivia in 1870. Unfortunately, she still suffered from poor health for the rest of her life.

He Was Fascinated With The Paranormal

Along with his wife's healing, Twain had witnessed some unexplained phenomena in his early life. Years before getting his steamboat license, Twain had a dream in which his brother Henry lay dead in a coffin. Sadly, his premonition came true years later when a Pennsylvania boiler exploded.

Twain remained intrigued by the paranormal for the rest of his life. When the Society for Psychical Research formed in 1882, he was one of their first members. That society still exists today.

He Loved Cats More Than People

Mark Twain always wanted a cat around him. He wrote cats into his fiction and even owned nineteen of them at one point. "If a man could be crossed with a cat, it would improve the man, but it would deteriorate the cat," he once wrote.

His cats all had fantastical names, such as Beelzebub, Buffalo Bil, Satan, Sin, Sour Mash, Tammany, Soapy Sal, Blatherskite and Bambino. When he left home to travel, he would rent cats to stay with him.

Huckleberry Finn Was Inspired By A Childhood Friend

In his home town of Hannibal, Mark Twain befriended an older boy named Tom Blankenship. Blankenship later became his inspiration for Huck Finn in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer . Blankenship grew up in a poor family with a notoriously drunk father.

In his biography, Twain wrote, "In Huckleberry Finn I have drawn Tom Blankenship exactly as he was. He was ignorant, unwashed, insufficiently fed; be he had as good a heart as ever any boy had." No one knows what happened to Blankenship later in life, though some reports suggest he died of cholera.

He Was Great Friends With Nikola Tesla

In the 1890s, Nikola Tesla met up with Twain in New York. Even though Twain lived in Europe at the time, he frequently visited New York. After Tesla told Twain about his lifelong illness, and how Twain's books helped him in recovery, Twain was moved to tears.

Since then, Twain often visited Tesla in his lab. Tesla experimented with electricity, which fascinated Twain. Reportedly, Tesla even shot an x-ray gun at Twain's head at one point. The two remained friends until Twain's death in 1910.

He Sold His Own Inventions

Mark Twain patented many of his own inventions. One was a garment fastener with a removable band that he envisioned on vests and pantaloons. The fastener never caught on with vests or pantaloons, but it did evolve into our modern bra strap.

His other successful patent was a self-pasting scrapbook, which, according to The St. Louis Post Dispatch, made him $50,000 . But his other investments, including a history trivia game and Paige typesetting machine, flopped. Even his own publishing house eventually spiraled into bankruptcy.

He Was A Terrible Businessman

After achieving wealth from his writing, Mark Twain poured his money into several terrible investments. In one case, Twain invested $200,000 in an automatic typesetting machine. That's a lot of money, considering that in 1890, the average American family earned less than $1,200 per year.

In 1891, Twain moved to Europe to live more frugally and aid his wife's poor health. Even so, in 1894, his self-established publishing company sank, forcing Twain to declare bankruptcy. Fortunately, he made back that money within the next several years when he embarked on an around-the-world speaking tour.

He Didn't Wear His Famous White Suit Until Later In Life

In December 1906, Twain wore a white suit to the House of Representatives. The New York Tribune recorded his wardrobe as "The most remarkable suit seen in New York this season." Up until his death in 1910, he would continue to display the white suit that most Americans imagine him in today.

In his autobiography, Twain listed hygiene as his reason for wearing all white. He also mentioned that it caught the eye of reporters and expressed his unconventionality.

He Was Filmed Only Once

Another inventor by the name of Thomas Edison was also good friends with Twain. One year before Twain's death, in 1909, Edison would arrive in Connecticut to film Twain and his family. The silent film he captured is the only existing footage of Mark Twain.

The footage first appeared at the production of Twain's "The Prince and the Pauper." In 2014, TFG Film & Tape restored the film so that modern audiences can watch it online.

He Has No Living Descendants

In 1870, Twain married Olivia Langdon, an abolitionist from New York. The two had four children. Their only son tragically passed away as a toddler, and two of their daughters died in their 20s. Sam Clemens himself died at age 88 in Connecticut in 1910, and Olivia Clemens died in 1904 at age 58.

Their surviving child, Clara Clemens, had one child herself, Nina Gabrilowitsch. Nina had no children and died in 1966. With that, the Samuel Clemens line disappeared. No direct descendants of Mark Twain are alive today.

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“Conductor, when you receive a fare, Punch in the presence of the passenjare! A blue trip slip for an eight-cent fare, A buff trip slip for a six-cent fare, A pink trip slip for a three-cent fare, Punch in the presence of the passenjare! CHORUS Punch, brothers! punch with care! Punch in the presence of the passenjare!”

Twain comes across this wonderful jingle in a newspaper one day, and it immediately “takes instant and entire possession of [him].” The lines fill his brain and beat a constant rhythm so that, when he finishes breakfast, he cannot remember whether he had eaten anything at all.

And still the lines keep on waltzing through his head, making all his other thoughts vaporize. Earlier he planned his day, wanting to write a brilliant tragedy, but all he writes is: “Punch in the presence of the passenjare.” After wrestling to defeat the tune for an hour, he proves to be the unfortunate victim of “a blue trip slip for an eight-cent fare.”

Work proving fruitless with this jingle jiggling in his head, Twain heads to town. But his walk bounces to the jingle’s rhythm. Even when he alters his step, the jingle accommodates its rhythm to that new stride. For two whole days Twain suffers from this catchy jingle.

Even when he walks with his friend, the Reverend, he pays no attention to their conversation. The Reverend talks on and on, and finally turns to Twain, who has said nothing. “Mark, are you sick?” he asks. But all Twain responds is: “Punch, brothers, punch with care! Punch in the presence of the passenjare!”

Punch With Care

Suddenly, Twain feels the jingle lift from his mind. He feels free and immediately begins singing and chatting away until their walk is over. Shaking the Reverend’s hand, Twain realizes that his friend has been silent for a while. “Come, come, out with something!” Twain exclaims. The Reverend replies: “Punch, brothers, punch with care! Punch in the presence of the passenjare!”

As Twain cared about his friend and was all too familiar with the suffering he had caused, he found a solution.

Modern readers have noted that Mark Twain may have come up with a pre-Internet meme. Twain’s comedic story historically shakes with fun and highlights the everyday joys that surround us. Though such fun and joy seem like madness, they are worth it.

Twain’s story echoes with Dr. Seuss’s words in “The Cat in the Hat”: “I know it is wet and the sun is not sunny, but we can have lots of good fun that is funny.” As we pass through our days, smile and laugh at the little things. For these little joys, laughs, and jingles brighten our day and chase the darkness away.

Mark Twain’s Short Story, ‘Journalism in Tennessee’

Leo Tolstoy’s Short Story, ‘How Much Land Does a Man Need?’

Benjamin Franklin’s Short Story, ‘Alice Addertongue’

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Percival Everett’s Philosophical Reply to “Huckleberry Finn”

In his new novel, “James,” Everett explores how an emblem of American slavery can write himself into being.

By Lauren Michele Jackson

Percival Everett ’s novels seem to ward off the lazier hermeneutics of literary criticism, yet they also have a way of dangling the analytical ropes with which we critics hang ourselves. His latest novel follows the misadventures of a runaway named Jim and his young companion Huckleberry in the antebellum American South. As in another novel featuring those protagonists, Jim has fled enslavement in the state of Missouri, and Huckleberry, Huck for short, has faked his own death to escape his no-good abusive Pap. As in that other novel, the two are both bonded and divided by the circumstances of their respective fugitivity as they float together on a raft down the Mississippi River. As in that other novel, the narrator of Everett’s book is setting down his story as best he knows how, but—rather differently—the narrator here is not the boy but the man who has been deprived of the legal leave to be one. “ With my pencil, I wrote myself into being ,” Jim writes. The novel is titled, simply, “James,” the name Jim chooses for himself. In conferring interiority (and literacy) upon perhaps the most famous fictional emblem of American slavery after Uncle Tom , Everett seems to participate in the marketable trope of “writing back” from the margins, exorcizing old racial baggage to confront the perennial question of—to use another worn idiom—what “Huck Finn” means now. And yet, with small exceptions, “James” meanders away from the prefab idioms that await it.

Podcast: The New Yorker Radio Hour Percival Everett talks about reinventing “Huckleberry Finn.”

What novel has borne the racial freight of American letters like “ Adventures of Huckleberry Finn ,” a book credited with gifting us a national literature (not to mention a sense of humor)? Norman Mailer , rereading the book on the occasion of its centennial, wrote of realizing “all over again that the near-burned-out, throttled, hate-filled dying affair between whites and blacks is still our great national love affair.” A decade later, as Americans fretted over the educational value of a book busting with more than two hundred instances of the word “nigger,” Toni Morrison defended “Huckleberry Finn” ’s status as a classic. The novel’s brilliance, she observed, lies in how it formally reproduces the very racial dynamic it depicts. Jim enables Huck’s moral maturation; without him, Twain’s Roman has no Bildung . Jim’s freedom is “withheld,” Morrison writes, lest there be “no more story to tell.” “James” posits a converse narrative problem: from the perspective of Jim, a man undertaking a deadly quest for freedom, managing the needs of a pubescent boy amounts to nothing so much as an inconvenience. Jim’s worries for his own family, a wife and child he’s left behind in bondage, must be slotted into the spaces between the boy’s gabbing, his questions, his anxieties. Jim’s sentiment toward Huck is unruly in its ambivalence: he is simultaneously protective and resentful, both relieved and uneasy when the two are separated, which in Everett’s novel they often are. With the boy in tow, Jim is mobile but stuck. Writing himself into being means leaving Huck, and much of “Huck,” behind.

Since releasing his début novel, in 1983, Everett has published roughly a novel every other year in addition to dozens of short stories, essays, and articles, plus a children’s book and a half-dozen poetry collections. His fictional protagonists have ranged from ornery cowpokes to professors of esoterica. Much of his work is narrated in the first person, yet his “I” is often a fragmentary and destabilizing affair; in my favorite of his books, “ Percival Everett by Virgil Russell ,” from 2013, the identity behind the pronoun in question is twofold and indeterminate. Such mechanics have earned Everett a reputation as an “experimental” author, though that descriptor alone does little to disambiguate his eclectically proliferating œuvre. (As Everett put it in one interview, “I don’t know what avant-garde or experimental means. Every novel is experimental.”) He has cited Twain as an influence, and it’s worth noting that Twain, contrary to his canonization as the singular author of a singular American novel, also tried lots of stuff out, confounding readers of his time. As the longtime Twain scholar Shelley Fisher Fishkin has written, “Each time critics thought they had him pegged, Twain set out in a new direction.” Insofar as there is a consistent motif in Everett’s work, it might be what he himself has described as an interest in “language and how language works.” In his 2001 novel “ Erasure ,” which was adapted last year into Cord Jefferson’s film “ American Fiction ,” an author who has been told that his style isn’t “Black” enough spews out a novel of the ghetto to wide and lucrative acclaim. “Call it expediently located irony, or convenient rationalization, but I was keeping the money,” he says. (In no small irony, “Erasure” remains Everett’s most popular work.)

“James,” in a sense, reprises the same linguistic drag in reverse. Early in the novel, we learn that Jim’s famous eye dialect from “Huckleberry Finn” is, in Everett’s telling, a strategic form of code-switching: the enslaved have dumbed down their speech for the sake of soothing white nerves. When among themselves, they speak in a crystalline, learned English. (“Will that be an example of proleptic irony or dramatic irony?” one character asks, sharing a laugh with Jim behind the back of a white man too self-important to recognize himself as the butt of the joke.) In a droll early scene, before Jim flees, he schools his daughter, Lizzie, on how to address the Mistress, Miss Watson, about her cooking:

“But what are you going to say when she asks you about it?” I asked. Lizzie cleared her throat. “Miss Watson, dat sum conebread lak I neva before et.” “Try ‘dat be,’ ” I said. “That would be the correct incorrect grammar.” “Dat be sum of conebread lak neva I et,” she said. “Very good,” I said.

There is a didactic quality to this conceit that can grow a bit tedious. “Safe movement through the world depended on mastery of language, fluency,” Jim offers, as though the idea demanded a plainspoken explanation. But a fruitful tension arises from the possibility that Jim will unwittingly endanger himself by committing a “language slip.” On the run with Huck, Jim debates Voltaire and Locke while dreaming, including during a period of delirium brought on by a venomous snakebite. “You sho talk funny in yer sleep,” Huck remarks, a comical reminder that Jim was not the only character Twain endowed with dialect. (Fishkin, in fact, proposed that Twain may have borrowed from African American voices in developing Huck’s way of speaking.) But, as in other Everett novels, speech only gets a person so far; to get any proper thinking done, Jim must work out his ideas on the page. In a scene reminiscent of one in Twain, Jim suggests that Huck slip away for a while, in a feminine disguise, to scope the happenings onshore. In Everett’s version, the reprieve enables Jim to write, with a stick and some stolen ink, his first words: “ My interest is in how these marks that I am scratching on this page can mean anything at all. If they can have meaning, then life can have meaning, then I can have meaning. ”

The story that follows dexterously summons the grand, stumping immensity of that “if.” In past novels, Everett has evoked (and chided) the wisdom of French language theorists regarding the instability and plurality of meaning. In “James,” he shows how nineteenth-century America (no less than present-day America) plays fast and loose with its most valued idioms—that is, race and money—and the material consequences, alternately grave and fortuitous, of doing so. What is the validity of a bill of sale, the novel poses, when any white con man can claim the nearest Black person as his own? Is there a meaningful difference between one lynching and another, when “seeing ten was to see a hundred, with that signature posture of death, the angle of the head, the crossing of the feet”? The cost of stealing a pencil exceeds monetary value; it may cost you your life, as Jim learns, though to be enslaved is to know precisely what one’s hide is worth. When, at some point, Jim notes the similarity between a “live slave” and a “dead runaway,” another character calls “bullshit.” Is it better to die free, or is that bullshit, too?

Everett mines the humor in such logical convolutions, though the book’s tone is more muted than that of his jocular novel “ The Trees ,” from 2021, which features its own spate of lynchings. In one scene, a “good master” lashes Jim until he passes out, and Jim comes to asking if he is alive. “I’m sorry to tell you, yes,” his companion responds. Among the departures from Twain’s text is a subplot involving Jim performing in a minstrel troupe and donning blackface alongside the white actors. He discovers that Norman, another performer in the group, is passing as white. Jim describes the motley crew: “There we were . . . ten white men in blackface, one black man passing for white and painted black, and me, a light-brown black man painted black in such a way as to appear like a white man trying to pass for black.” The farce works because, as Everett’s work has often shown, race itself is something of a farce. As James observes, “Never had a situation felt so absurd, surreal and ridiculous. And I had spent my life as a slave.”

“Erasure” draws its slippery epigraph from Twain: “I never could tell a lie that anybody would doubt, nor a truth that anybody would believe.” In “James,” the path toward freedom depends upon realizing the distance between how things are and how things are perceived to be. Appropriating a technique he learns from Twain’s famous hucksters, the Duke and the King, Jim teams up with Norman to enact a scheme of their own: Norman will (again) pose as a white man and sell Jim, then Jim can escape and Norman can sell him again, thus accruing them enough money to free family members who remain enslaved. They carry out exactly one transaction before things fall terribly apart. The story’s bloody, propulsive denouement includes a slave insurrection and a surreal trip into the bowels of a riverboat, where Jim and Norman learn the vital distinction between the ringing of four bells and seven. Jim, by this point, has lost the will to bite his own tongue. He tells Huck, when they’re reunited, “Belief has nothing to do with truth. Believe what you like. . . . Either way, no difference.”

Everett never gives the sense that James needs Huck, not like Huck, as he tells Tom Sawyer toward the end of “Huckleberry Finn,” needs his “nigger” Jim. And yet, like its predecessor, “James” finds surprising poignancy in the bonds between the pair, however burdensome for Jim the relationship may be. Jim cannot easily shake Huck off, for reasons that Huck, and the reader, discover by the story’s end. The boy may be a nuisance, but he is a huge, persuasive, affecting one. Everett, like Twain, has often been called a satirist, but “satire” is ultimately a limp and inadequate label for what Everett is up to with this searching account of a man’s manifold liberation. “ How much do I want to be free? ” Jim asks himself early in the novel. Huck won’t be of much assistance in answering that question, and neither will Twain, for that matter. ♦

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By Maya Binyam

By Willing Davidson

By James Wood

Yacht Mark Twain being refurbished in bid to compete in Sydney to Hobart race once more

For the better part of five decades, one yacht returned to the starting line of the Sydney to Hobart race more than any other.

The timber and fibreglass hulled Mark Twain was built in 1971 and has competed in the race a record-breaking 26 times.

But since its last effort in 2018, it has languished at port.

The yacht's new owner, Rob Payne, who refers to himself as the boat's custodian, has grand plans to refurbish the vessel, a Sparkman and Stephens 39, and return the Mark Twain to its former glory.

Although he hopes to return the boat to the starting line of the Sydney to Hobart, he also believes the yacht can be used for a greater good.

Along with Beaconsfield mine disaster survivor Brant Webb , Mr Payne has plans to establish a group called Old Saltys, which will aim to use sailing as a vessel to empower youth through sharing knowledge.

"Sailing is a metaphor for life. You've got to trim your sails and set your course and you're gonna get buffeted around," he said.

The Old Salty's motto will be 'well-weathered wisdom', and the men believe they have a lot of life experience they can share with young people anywhere Mark Twain can sail.

Mine collapse survivor finds solace on the sea

Brant Webb, who was one of two miners rescued after spending 14 days trapped almost a kilometre underground when a Tasmanian mine collapsed in 2006, says sailing helped him after the ordeal.

"After Beaconsfield, if I was having a bad day I'd call up the GP and he'd say 'get the boat ready, we're going sailing'.

"I've been sailing since I was eight years old. All my life. That's the great thing about it, you can turn your phone off out there and no-one can find you."

Mr Webb said the Old Saltys group was intended for "sailors who are too old to race and too young to cruise".

"It gives us old folk a new lease on life. The whole thing is to connect people, to put the unity in community, which we lost during COVID."

Mr Payne, a recent transplant from New Zealand, said he was heartbroken by the condition of the Mark Twain when he first found it in 2020.

"When I saw it, it broke my heart," he said, adding that he had the opportunity to "do something about" refurbishing the "old girl".

"We're only ever the custodians of these extraordinary vessels."

Once a fine racing yacht, the Mark Twain had fallen into disrepair in port at George Town in recent years.

From its first entry in the Sydney to Hobart in 1971, the boat long held the steadily increasing record for the greatest number of entries in the iconic race, even managing to clinch podium finishes for its class on several occasions.

Throughout the latter half of the 20th century, it competed in more than 20 Sydney to Hobart races, and in 2002 became the first-ever boat to have sailed in 25.

"Thousands of men and women have sailed on this beautiful vessel," Mr Payne said.

It was bought and refurbished for its 26th entry by veteran Sydney to Hobart skipper Michael Spies in 2018, but that was the last time it took part.

Mr Payne spent several months last year refurbishing the boat's hull himself and on Wednesday, March 27, the mast and boom were removed to be restored by a Beauty Point shipwright.

Along with Mr Webb, he hopes to take the Mark Twain around Tasmania, Australia and New Zealand and share their knowledge of the seas.

"My encouragement to youth is to get into sailing and you know, become part of the community within those sailing clubs," Mr Payne said.

"You don't necessarily have to own a huge boat … you can be in a little sabot [dinghy] and have that experience on the water. It's life changing and transformational."

He is keen to share the refurbishment project with anyone who wants to be involved and hopes the Mark Twain will sail again in the next two to three years.

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