by Mark Twain
FROM THE 'LONDON TIMES' OF 1904
Correspondence of the 'London Times' Chicago, April 1, 1904.
I resume by cable-telephone where I left off yesterday. For many hoursnow, this vast city--along with the rest of the globe, of course--hastalked of nothing but the extraordinary episode mentioned in my lastreport. In accordance with your instructions, I will now trace theromance from its beginnings down to the culmination of yesterday--ortoday; call it which you like. By an odd chance, I was a personal actorin a part of this drama myself. The opening scene plays in Vienna. Date,one o'clock in the morning, March 31, 1898. I had spent the evening ata social entertainment. About midnight I went away, in company with themilitary attaches of the British, Italian, and American embassies, tofinish with a late smoke. This function had been appointed to take placein the house of Lieutenant Hillyer, the third attache mentioned in theabove list. When we arrived there we found several visitors in the room;young Szczepanik;(1) Mr. K., his financial backer; Mr. W., the latter'ssecretary; and Lieutenant Clayton, of the United States Army. War wasat that time threatening between Spain and our country, and LieutenantClayton had been sent to Europe on military business. I was wellacquainted with young Szczepanik and his two friends, and I knew Mr.Clayton slightly. I had met him at West Point years before, when hewas a cadet. It was when General Merritt was superintendent. He had thereputation of being an able officer, and also of being quick-temperedand plain-spoken.
This smoking-party had been gathered together partly for business. Thisbusiness was to consider the availability of the telelectroscope formilitary service. It sounds oddly enough now, but it is neverthelesstrue that at that time the invention was not taken seriously by any oneexcept its inventor. Even his financial supporter regarded it merely as acurious and interesting toy. Indeed, he was so convinced of this thathe had actually postponed its use by the general world to the end ofthe dying century by granting a two years' exclusive lease of it to asyndicate, whose intent was to exploit it at the Paris World's Fair.When we entered the smoking-room we found Lieutenant Clayton andSzczepanik engaged in a warm talk over the telelectroscope in the Germantongue. Clayton was saying:
'Well, you know my opinion of it, anyway!' and he brought his fist downwith emphasis upon the table.
'And I do not value it,' retorted the young inventor, with provokingcalmness of tone and manner.
Clayton turned to Mr. K., and said:
'I cannot see why you are wasting money on this toy. In my opinion, theday will never come when it will do a farthing's worth of real servicefor any human being.'
'That may be; yes, that may be; still, I have put the money in it,and am content. I think, myself, that it is only a toy; but Szczepanikclaims more for it, and I know him well enough to believe that he cansee father than I can--either with his telelectroscope or without it.'
The soft answer did not cool Clayton down; it seemed only to irritatehim the more; and he repeated and emphasised his conviction that theinvention would never do any man a farthing's worth of real service.He even made it a 'brass' farthing, this time. Then he laid an Englishfarthing on the table, and added:
'Take that, Mr. K., and put it away; and if ever the telelectroscopedoes any man an actual service--mind, a real service--please mail itto me as a reminder, and I will take back what I have been saying. Willyou?'
'I will,' and Mr. K. put the coin in his pocket.
Mr. Clayton now turned toward Szczepanik, and began with a taunt--ataunt which did not reach a finish; Szczepanik interrupted it with ahardy retort, and followed this with a blow. There was a brisk fight fora moment or two; then the attaches separated the men.
The scene now changes to Chicago. Time, the autumn of 1901. As soon asthe Paris contract released the telelectroscope, it was delivered topublic use, and was soon connected with the telephonic systems of thewhole world. The improved 'limitless-distance' telephone was presentlyintroduced, and the daily doings of the globe made visible to everybody,and audibly discussible, too, by witnesses separated by any number ofleagues.
By-and-by Szczepanik arrived in Chicago. Clayton (now captain) wasserving in that military department at the time. The two men resumed theViennese quarrel of 1898. On three different occasions they quarrelled,and were separated by witnesses. Then came an interval of two months,during which time Szczepanik was not seen by any of his friends, and itwas at first supposed that he had gone off on a sight seeing tour andwould soon be heard from. But no; no word came from him. Then it wassupposed that he had returned to Europe. Still, time drifted on, and hewas not heard from. Nobody was troubled, for he was like most inventorsand other kinds of poets, and went and came in a capricious way, andoften without notice.
Now comes the tragedy. On December 29, in a dark and unused compartmentof the cellar under Captain Clayton's house, a corpse was discoveredby one of Clayton's maid-servants. Friends of deceased identified itas Szczepanik's. The man had died by violence. Clayton was arrested,indicted, and brought to trial, charged with this murder. The evidenceagainst him was perfect in every detail, and absolutely unassailable.Clayton admitted this himself. He said that a reasonable man could notexamine this testimony with a dispassionate mind and not be convinced byit; yet the man would be in error, nevertheless. Clayton swore that hedid not commit the murder, and that he had had nothing to do with it.
As your readers will remember, he was condemned to death. He hadnumerous and powerful friends, and they worked hard to save him, fornone of them doubted the truth of his assertion. I did what little Icould to help, for I had long since become a close friend of his, andthought I knew that it was not in his character to inveigle an enemyinto a corner and assassinate him. During 1902 and 1903 he was severaltimes reprieved by the governor; he was reprieved once more in thebeginning of the present year, and the execution day postponed to March31.
The governor's situation has been embarrassing, from the day of thecondemnation, because of the fact that Clayton's wife is the governor'sniece. The marriage took place in 1899, when Clayton was thirty-four andthe girl twenty-three, and has been a happy one. There is one child, alittle girl three years old. Pity for the poor mother and child keptthe mouths of grumblers closed at first; but this could not last forever--for in America politics has a hand in everything--and by-and-bythe governor's political opponents began to call attention to his delayin allowing the law to take its course. These hints have grown moreand more frequent of late, and more and more pronounced. As anatural result, his own party grew nervous. Its leaders began to visitSpringfield and hold long private conferences with him. He was nowbetween two fires. On the one hand, his niece was imploring him topardon her husband; on the other were the leaders, insisting that hestand to his plain duty as chief magistrate of the State, and place nofurther bar to Clayton's execution. Duty won in the struggle, and theGovernor gave his word that he would not again respite the condemnedman. This was two weeks ago. Mrs. Clayton now said:
'Now that you have given your word, my last hope is gone, for I knowyou will never go back from it. But you have done the best you could forJohn, and I have no reproaches for you. You love him, and you love me,and we know that if you could honourable save him, you would do it. Iwill go to him now, and be what help I can to him, and get what comfortI may out of the few days that are left to us before the night comeswhich will have no end for me in life. You will be with me that day? Youwill not let me bear it alone?'
'I will take you to him myself, poor child, and I will be near you tothe last.'
By the governor's command, Clayton was now allowed every indulgence hemight ask for which could interest his mind and soften the hardships ofhis imprisonment. His wife and child spent the days with him; I was hiscompanion by night. He was removed from the narrow cell which he hadoccupied during such a dreary stretch of time, and given the chiefwarden's roomy and comfortable quarters. His mind was always busy withthe catastrophe of his life, and with the slaughtered inventor, and henow took the fancy that he would like to have th
e telelectroscope anddivert his mind with it. He had his wish. The connection was made withthe international telephone-station, and day by day, and night by night,he called up one corner of the globe after another, and looked upon itslife, and studied its strange sights, and spoke with its people, andrealised that by grace of this marvellous instrument he was almost asfree as the birds of the air, although a prisoner under locks and bars.He seldom spoke, and I never interrupted him when he was absorbed inthis amusement. I sat in his parlour and read, and smoked, and thenights were very quiet and reposefully sociable, and I found thempleasant. Now and then I would her him say 'Give me Yedo;' next, 'Giveme Hong-Kong;' next, 'Give me Melbourne.' And I smoked on, and read incomfort, while he wandered about the remote underworld, where thesun was shining in the sky, and the people were at their daily work.Sometimes the talk that came from those far regions through themicrophone attachment interested me, and I listened.
Yesterday--I keep calling it yesterday, which is quite natural, forcertain reasons--the instrument remained unused, and that also wasnatural, for it was the eve of the execution day. It was spent in tearsand lamentations and farewells. The governor and the wife and childremained until a quarter-past eleven at night, and the scenes Iwitnessed were pitiful to see. The execution was to take place at fourin the morning. A little after eleven a sound of hammering broke outupon the still night, and there was a glare of light, and the childcried out, 'What is that, papa?' and ran to the window before she couldbe stopped and clapped her small hands and said, 'Oh, come and see,mamma--such a pretty thing they are making!' The mother knew--andfainted. It was the gallows!
She was carried away to her lodging, poor woman, and Clayton and Iwere alone--alone, and thinking, brooding, dreaming. We might have beenstatues, we sat so motionless and still. It was a wild night, for winterwas come again for a moment, after the habit of this region in the earlyspring. The sky was starless and black, and a strong wind was blowingfrom the lake. The silence in the room was so deep that all outsidesounds seemed exaggerated by contrast with it. These sounds were fittingones: they harmonised with the situation and the conditions: the boomand thunder of sudden storm-gusts among the roofs and chimneys, then thedying down into moanings and wailings about the eaves and angles; nowand then a gnashing and lashing rush of sleet along the window-panes;and always the muffled and uncanny hammering of the gallows-builders inthe court-yard. After an age of this, another sound--far off, and comingsmothered and faint through the riot of the tempest--a bell tollingtwelve! Another age, and it was tolled again. By-and-by, again. A drearylong interval after this, then the spectral sound floated to us oncemore--one, two three; and this time we caught our breath; sixty minutesof life left!
Clayton rose, and stood by the window, and looked up into the black sky,and listened to the thrashing sleet and the piping wind; then he said:'That a dying man's last of earth should be--this!' After a little hesaid: 'I must see the sun again--the sun!' and the next moment he wasfeverishly calling: 'China! Give me China--Peking!'
I was strangely stirred, and said to myself: 'To think that it is amere human being who does this unimaginable miracle--turns winter intosummer, night into day, storm into calm, gives the freedom of the greatglobe to a prisoner in his cell, and the sun in his naked splendour to aman dying in Egyptian darkness.'
I was listening.
'What light! what brilliancy! what radiance!... This is Peking?'
'Yes.'
'The time?'
'Mid-afternoon.'
'What is the great crowd for, and in such gorgeous costumes? What massesand masses of rich colour and barbaric magnificence! And how they flashand glow and burn in the flooding sunlight! What is the occasion of itall?'
'The coronation of our new emperor--the Czar.'
'But I thought that that was to take place yesterday.'
'This is yesterday--to you.'
'Certainly it is. But my mind is confused, these days: there are reasonsfor it.... Is this the beginning of the procession?'
'Oh, no; it began to move an hour ago.'
'Is there much more of it still to come?'
'Two hours of it. Why do you sigh?'
'Because I should like to see it all.'
'And why can't you?'
'I have to go--presently.'
'You have an engagement?'
After a pause, softly: 'Yes.' After another pause: 'Who are these in thesplendid pavilion?'
'The imperial family, and visiting royalties from here and there andyonder in the earth.'
'And who are those in the adjoining pavilions to the right and left?'
'Ambassadors and their families and suites to the right; unofficialforeigners to the left.'
'If you will be so good, I--'
Boom! That distant bell again, tolling the half-hour faintly throughthe tempest of wind and sleet. The door opened, and the governor and themother and child entered--the woman in widow's weeds! She fell upon herhusband's breast in a passion of sobs, and I--I could not stay; I couldnot bear it. I went into the bedchamber, and closed the door. I satthere waiting--waiting--waiting, and listening to the rattling sashesand the blustering of the storm. After what seemed a long, long time, Iheard a rustle and movement in the parlour, and knew that the clergymanand the sheriff and the guard were come. There was some low-voicedtalking; then a hush; then a prayer, with a sound of sobbing; presently,footfalls--the departure for the gallows; then the child's happy voice:'Don't cry now, mamma, when we've got papa again, and taking him home.'
The door closed; they were gone. I was ashamed: I was the only friend ofthe dying man that had no spirit, no courage. I stepped into the room,and said I would be a man and would follow. But we are made as we aremade, and we cannot help it. I did not go.
I fidgeted about the room nervously, and presently went to the windowand softly raised it--drawn by that dread fascination which the terribleand the awful exert--and looked down upon the court-yard. By thegarish light of the electric lamps I saw the little group of privilegedwitnesses, the wife crying on her uncle's breast, the condemned manstanding on the scaffold with the halter around his neck, his armsstrapped to his body, the black cap on his head, the sheriff at his sidewith his hand on the drop, the clergyman in front of him with bare headand his book in his hand.
'I am the resurrection and the life--'
I turned away. I could not listen; I could not look. I did not knowwhither to go or what to do. Mechanically and without knowing it, I putmy eye to that strange instrument, and there was Peking and the Czar'sprocession! The next moment I was leaning out of the window, gasping,suffocating, trying to speak, but dumb from the very imminence of thenecessity of speaking. The preacher could speak, but I, who had suchneed of words--'And may God have mercy upon your soul. Amen.'
The sheriff drew down the black cap, and laid his hand upon the lever. Igot my voice.
'Stop, for God's sake! The man is innocent. Come here and see Szczepanikface to face!'
Hardly three minutes later the governor had my place at the window, andwas saying:
'Strike off his bonds and set him free!'
Three minutes later all were in the parlour again. The reader willimagine the scene; I have no need to describe it. It was a sort of madorgy of joy.
A messenger carried word to Szczepanik in the pavilion, and one couldsee the distressed amazement in his face as he listened to the tale.Then he came to his end of the line, and talked with Clayton and thegovernor and the others; and the wife poured out her gratitude upon himfor saving her husband's life, and in her deep thankfulness she kissedhim at twelve thousand miles' range.
The telelectroscopes of the world were put to service now, and formany hours the kings and queens of many realms (with here and therea reporter) talked with Szczepanik, and praised him; and the fewscientific societies which had not already made him an honorary memberconferred that grace upon him.
How had he come to disappear from among us? It was easily explained. Hehad not grown used to bein
g a world-famous person, and had been forcedto break away from the lionising that was robbing him of all privacy andrepose. So he grew a beard, put on coloured glasses, disguised himselfa little in other ways, then took a fictitious name, and went off towander about the earth in peace.
Such is the tale of the drama which began with an inconsequentialquarrel in Vienna in the spring of 1898, and came near ending as atragedy in the spring of 1904.
Mark Twain
II
Correspondence of the 'London Times' Chicago, April 5, 1904
To-day, by a clipper of the Electric Line, and the latter's ElectricRailway connections, arrived an envelope from Vienna, for CaptainClayton, containing an English farthing. The receiver of it was a gooddeal moved. He called up Vienna, and stood face to face with Mr. K., andsaid:
'I do not need to say anything: you can see it all in my face. My wifehas the farthing. Do not be afraid--she will not throw it away.'
M.T.
III
Correspondence of the 'London Times' Chicago, April 23, 1904
Now that the after developments of the Clayton case have run theircourse and reached a finish, I will sum them up. Clayton's romanticescape from a shameful death steeped all this region in an enchantmentof wonder and joy--during the proverbial nine days. Then the soberingprocess followed, and men began to take thought, and to say: 'But a manwas killed, and Clayton killed him.' Others replied: 'That is true: wehave been overlooking that important detail; we have been led away byexcitement.'
The telling soon became general that Clayton ought to be tried again.Measures were taken accordingly, and the proper representations conveyedto Washington; for in America under the new paragraph added to theConstitution in 1889, second trials are not State affairs, but national,and must be tried by the most august body in the land--the Supreme Courtof the United States. The justices were therefore summoned to sit inChicago. The session was held day before yesterday, and was opened withthe usual impressive formalities, the nine judges appearing in theirblack robes, and the new chief justice (Lemaitre) presiding. In openingthe case the chief justice said:
'It is my opinion that this matter is quite simple. The prisoner atthe bar was charged with murdering the man Szczepanik; he was tried formurdering the man Szczepanik; he was fairly tried and justly condemnedand sentenced to death for murdering the man Szczepanik. It turns outthat the man Szczepanik was not murdered at all. By the decision of theFrench courts in the Dreyfus matter, it is established beyond cavilor question that the decisions of courts are permanent and cannot berevised. We are obliged to respect and adopt this precedent. It is uponprecedents that the enduring edifice of jurisprudence is reared. Theprisoner at the bar has been fairly and righteously condemned to deathfor the murder of the man Szczepanik, and, in my opinion, there is butone course to pursue in the matter: he must be hanged.'
Mr. Justice Crawford said:
'But, your Excellency, he was pardoned on the scaffold for that.'
'The pardon is not valid, and cannot stand, because he was pardonedfor killing Szczepanik, a man whom he had not killed. A man cannotbe pardoned for a crime which he has not committed; it would be anabsurdity.'
'But, your Excellency, he did kill a man.'
'That is an extraneous detail; we have nothing to do with it. The courtcannot take up this crime until the prisoner has expiated the otherone.'
Mr. Justice Halleck said:
'If we order his execution, your Excellency, we shall bring about amiscarriage of justice, for the governor will pardon him again.'
'He will not have the power. He cannot pardon a man for a crime which hehas not committed. As I observed before, it would be an absurdity.'
After a consultation, Mr. Justice Wadsworth said:
'Several of us have arrived at the conclusion, your Excellency, that itwould be an error to hang the prisoner for killing Szczepanik, insteadof for killing the other man, since it is proven that he did not killSzczepanik.'
'On the contrary, it is proven that he did kill Szczepanik. By theFrench precedent, it is plain that we must abide by the finding of thecourt.'
'But Szczepanik is still alive.'
'So is Dreyfus.'
In the end it was found impossible to ignore or get around the Frenchprecedent. There could be but one result: Clayton was delivered over forthe execution. It made an immense excitement; the State rose as one manand clamored for Clayton's pardon and retrial. The governor issued thepardon, but the Supreme Court was in duty bound to annul it, and did so,and poor Clayton was hanged yesterday. The city is draped in black, and,indeed, the like may be said of the State. All America is vocal withscorn of 'French justice,' and of the malignant little soldiers whoinvented it and inflicted it upon the other Christian lands.
(1) Pronounced (approximately) Shepannik.