. . . .
[beginning ]of Lent, and all good Catholics eat and drink freely of what they please, and, in fact, do what they please, in order that they may be the better able to keep sober and quiet during the coming fast. It has been said that a Scotchman has not seen the world until he has seen Edinburgh; and I think that I may say that an American has not seen the United States until he has seen Mardi-Gras in New Orleans.
I posted off up town yesterday morning as soon as the boat
landed, in blissful ignorance of the great day.1 At the corner of Good-Children and Tchoupitoulas streets, I beheld an
apparition!—and my first impulse was to dodge behind a lamp-post. It
was a woman—a hay-stack of curtain calico, ten feet
high—sweeping majestically down the middle of the street (for what
pavement in the world could accommodate hoops of such vast proportions?) Next I
saw a girls of eighteen, mounted on a fine horse, and dressed as a
Spanish Cavalier, with long rapier, flowing curls, blue satin doublet and
half-breeches, trimmed with broad white lace—(the balance
of her dainty legs cased in flesh-colored silk
stockings)—white kid gloves—and a nodding
crimson feather in the coquettishest little cap in the world. She [
rep removed ]said cap and bowed low to me, and nothing [
loth loath], I bowed in return—but I could n’t help murmuring,
“By the beard of the Prophet, Miss, but you’ve mistaken
your man this time—for I never saw your silk mask [before,
—
]nor the balance of your costume, either, for that matter.” And
then I saw a hundred men, women and children in fine, fancy, splendid, ugly,
coarse, ridiculous, grotesque, laughable costumes, and the truth flashed upon
me—“This is Mardi-Gras!” It was
Mardi-gras—and that young lady had a perfect right to bow to, shake
hands with, or speak to, me, or any body else she pleased. The streets were soon
full of “Mardi-gras,” representing giants, Indians, nigger
minstrels, monks, priests, [clowns,— ]
every birds, beasts,—everything, in fact, that one could
imagine. The “free-and-easy” women turned out en masse—and their costumes and actions were
very trying to modest eyes. The finest sight I saw during the day was a band of
twenty [stalwart
d
]men, [
r splendidly ]arrayed as Comanche Indians, flying and yelling down the street on horses
as finely decorated as themselves. It was worth going a long distance to see the
performances of the day—but bless me! how insignificant they seemed
in comparison with those of the night, when the grand torchlight procession of
the “Mystic Krewe of Comus” [
were
] was added. [
I At ]half past seven in the evening I went up to St. Charles street, and found
both its pavements, for many squares, packed and jammed with thousands of men
and women, waiting to see the Mystic Krewe. I managed to get an eligible place
near the middle of the street opposite the St. Charles Hotel, where I
waited—yes, I waited—standing on both feet as long as I
could—then on one—then on tother—and was just
preparing to stand on my head awhile, when a shout of “Here they come!” kept me still in the
proper position of a box of glassware. But it was a false
alarm—and after a while we had another false alarm—and
then another—each repetition stirring up the impatience and anxiety
of the crowd & setting it to heaving and surging at a fearful rate.
At last the distant tinkling of lively music was heard—and then the
tag-end of a great huzza that had battered nearly all the life out of itself by
butting against many squares of hard brick houses before it reached
us—and again the tinkling music, and again the faint
huzza—and five thousand people near me were [tip-toeing ]& bobbing & peeping down the long street,
& wondering why the devil it didn’t come along
faster—if it ever
expected to [
come get ]in sight. Impatience was growing, [now,
—
]for ever so [far ]away down the street we could see a flare of light [
seeming some a little sun spreading ]away from a line of dancing colored spots. They approached faster, then,
& pretty soon, we took up the fainting huzza,
& breathed new life into it. And here was the procession at last. The
torches were of all colors, but their shapes represented the spots on a pack of
cards—an endless line of hearts, and clubs,
&c., The procession was led by a mounted Knight of
the Crusader in blazing gilt armor from head to foot, and I think one
might never tire of looking at the splendid picture. Then followed tall,
grotesque maskers representing some ancient game—then an odd figure
covered with checks, with a huge chess board & chessmen for a
hat—then another quaint fellow gleaming in backgammon [stripes], with two great dice for a hat—then the kings of each suit of
cards dressed in royal regalia of ermine, satin &
gold—then [queer
n
]figures representing various other games,—then the Queen of the
Fairies, with an winged troop of beauties, in airy costumes at her
heels—then the King & Queen of the Genii, I suppose (eight
or ten feet high,) with vast rolls of flaxen curls, bowing majestically to the
crowd—followed by a couple of infinitesimal dwarfs,—and
again by other genii, in costumes grotesque, hideous & beautiful in
turn—then figures whose bodies were vast drums, trumpets, clarinets,
fiddles, &c.,—followed by others whose bodies were
pitchers, punch-bowls, goblets, &c., terminated by two tremendous
& very unsteady black wine bottles—then gigantic chickens,
turkeys, bears, & other beasts & birds—then a
big Christmas tree, [followed ]by Santa Claus, with fur cap, short pipe, &c., and surrounded
by a great basket filled with toys—and then—well, I
don’t remember half. There were transparencies, marking the
divisions, with a band of music to each. Under “May-day”
was a beautifully decorated [
m
May-tree ]& a [
m
May-pole; ]—after “Twelfth-Night” followed [
K a ]troupe of the most outrageously hideous figures, half-beast,-half-human,
that one could imagine;—Santa Claus & his crew followed
“Christmas”—the games, &c., followed
“Comus at his old English tricks, [
& again],” and if there were any other transparencies, I have forgotten
them. The [
whole long ]procession blazed with bran-new silk and satin, and the whole thing seemed
to have been gotten up without any regard to cost.
Certainly New Orleans seldom does things by halves.
New Orleans, Friday 11th.
I saw our little Princesses, Countesses, or whatever they
are—the Piccolominis—in St. Charles [street.
yesterday.
]They came down from Memphis in the cars, I believe. Their first concert
takes place to-night, and we shall leave this afternoon. So we shall not hear
the young lady sing.2 We had a souvenir of the warbler written on our sla old
slate, but some sacrilegious scoundrel rubbed it out. It was “Je suis
fachèr qu’il faut que nous allons de ce batteau
à la Memphis.” To which (“I am sorry
that we must leave the boat at Memphis.”) To which I replied en mauvais française, “Nous seront
nous aussi très fachèr.” (We shall be very
[sorry], also.) Ben3 was going to “head” it “The Lament of
the Irish Emigrant,”4 & sell the old slate to Barnum for five hundred dollars. Ben
said he had a very interesting conversation with the “old
dowager,” Madame Pic. He remarked—“I imagine,
Madame, that if it would only drizzle a little more, the weather would soon be
in splendid condition for young ducks!” And she
replied—“Ah, mio, mio,—une
petè—I not can [
ondersthand ]not!” “Yes’m, it’s a great
pity you can’t ondersthand not, for it has cost you the loss of a
very sage remark.” And she followed with a tremendous gush of the
musical language. Then Benjamin—“Yes, madame,
you’re very right—very right indeed. I [acknowlege ]the justice of your remarks, but the devil of it is, I’m a
little in the dark as to what you’ve been saying all the
time!”
In eight days from this, I shall be in Saint Louis, but I am afraid if I am not careful I’ll beat this letter there.
My love to all,
Your brother
Sam
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
Copy-text:MS, Moffett Collection, Mark Twain Papers, The Bancroft Library, University of
California, Berkeley (CU-MARK).Previous publication:
L1, 87–91; Fender, 738–39 (excerpt).
Provenance:see Moffett Collection, p. 462.
Emendations and textual notes:
beginning • [previous pages missing] ginning
rep removed • repmoved [‘m’ over partly formed ‘p’]
loth loath • lothath [‘at’ over ‘th’]
before, — • [dash inserted over comma]
clowns,— • [comma possibly inserted]
stalwart d • [‘t’ over ‘d’]
r splendidly • [‘s’ over ‘r’]
were was • wereas [‘as’ over ‘ere’]
I At • [‘A’ over ‘I’]
tip-toeing • tip-ǀtoeing
come get • [‘get’ over ‘come’]
now, — • [dash inserted over comma]
far • far [‘f’ canceled inadvertently]
seeming some a little sun spreading •
s[eem]ing
s[
]
[] little ǀsun spreading [‘spr’ over possible ‘sun’; other text
canceled heavily]
stripes • [‘r’ and ‘i’ written as one character]
queer n • [‘r’ over ‘n’]
followed • foll-ǀlowed [hyphen over ‘l’]
m May-tree • [‘M’ over ‘m’]
m May-pole • m May-pole [‘M’ over ‘m’]
K a • [‘a’ over ‘K’]
& again • [‘a’ over ‘&’]
whole long • [‘long’ over ‘whole’]
street.
yesterday.
•
street. yesterday.
[deletion
implied]
sorry • salorry [‘or’ over ‘al’]
ondersthand • on‐ǀdersthand
acknowlege • [sic]
