Somehow I can't seem to rest quiet under the idea of your voting for
Blaine. I believe you said something about the country and the
party. Certainly allegiance to these is well, but certainly a man's
first duty is to his own conscience and honor; the party and country
come second to that, and never first. I don't ask you to vote at
all. I only urge you not to soil yourself by voting for Blaine....
Don't be offended; I mean no offense. I am not concerned about the
rest of the nation, but well, good-by.
Yours ever, MARK.
Beyond his prayerful letters to Howells, Clemens did not greatly concern himself with politics on the farm, but, returning to Hartford, he went vigorously into the campaign, presided, as usual, at mass-meetings, and made political speeches which invited the laughter of both parties, and were universally quoted and printed without regard to the paper's convictions.
It was during one such speech as this that, in the course of his remarks, a band outside came marching by playing patriotic music so loudly as to drown his voice. He waited till the band got by, but by the time he was well under way again another band passed, and once more he was obliged to wait till the music died away in the distance. Then he said, quite serenely:
“You will find my speech, without the music, in the morning paper.”
In introducing Carl Schurz at a great mugwump mass-meeting at Hartford, October 20, 1884, he remarked that he [Clemens] was the only legitimately elected officer, and was expected to read a long list of vice-presidents; but he had forgotten all about it, and he would ask all the gentlemen there, of whatever political complexion, to do him a great favor by acting as vice-presidents. Then he said:
As far as my own political change of heart is concerned, I have not
been convinced by any Democratic means. The opinion I hold of Mr.
Blaine is due to the comments of the Republican press before the
nomination. Not that they have said bitter or scandalous things,
because Republican papers are above that, but the things they said
did not seem to be complimentary, and seemed to me to imply
editorial disapproval of Mr. Blaine and the belief that he was not
qualified to be President of the United States.
It is just a little indelicate for me to be here on this occasion
before an assemblage of voters, for the reason that the ablest
newspaper in Colorado—the ablest newspaper in the world—has
recently nominated me for President. It is hardly fit for me to
preside at a discussion of the brother candidate, but the best among
us will do the most repulsive things the moment we are smitten with
a Presidential madness. If I had realized that this canvass was to
turn on the candidate's private character I would have started that
Colorado paper sooner. I know the crimes that can be imputed and
proved against me can be told on the fingers of your hands. This
cannot be said of any other Presidential candidate in the field.
Inasmuch as the Blaine-Cleveland campaign was essentially a campaign of scurrility, this touch was loudly applauded.
Mark Twain voted for Grover Cleveland, though up to the very eve of election he was ready to support a Republican nominee in whom he had faith, preferably Edmunds, and he tried to inaugurate a movement by which Edmunds might be nominated as a surprise candidate and sweep the country.
It was probably Dr. Burchard's ill-advised utterance concerning the three alleged R's of Democracy, “Rum, Romanism, and Rebellion,” that defeated Blaine, and by some strange, occult means Mark Twain's butler George got wind of this damning speech before it became news on the streets of Hartford. George had gone with his party, and had a considerable sum of money wagered on Blaine's election; but he knew it was likely to be very close, and he had an instant and deep conviction that these three fatal words and Blaine's failure to repudiate them meant the candidate's downfall. He immediately abandoned everything in the shape of household duties, and within the briefest possible time had changed enough money to make him safe, and leave him a good margin of winnings besides, in the event of Blaine's defeat. This was evening. A very little later the news of Blaine's blunder, announced from the opera-house stage, was like the explosion of a bomb. But it was no news to George, who went home rejoicing with his enemies.