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  THE LUCK OF ROARING CAMP AND OTHER TALES

  With Condensed Novels, Spanish And American Legends, And Earlier Papers

  From The Writings Of Bret Harte

  By Bret Harte

  _With an Introduction by the Author_

  PUBLISHERS' NOTE

  In 1882, it was felt to be desirable that Mr. Harte's scattered workshould be brought together in convenient form, and the result wasa compact edition of five volumes. After that date, as before, hecontinued to produce poems, tales, sketches, and romances in steadysuccession, and in 1897 his publishers undertook a uniform and orderlypresentation of the results of more than thirty years of his literaryactivity. The fourteen volumes that embodied those results were enrichedby Introductions and a Glossary prepared by Mr. Harte himself.

  The present Riverside Edition is based on the collection made in 1897,but is enlarged by the inclusion of later work.

  Boston, 4 Park Street, Autumn, 1902.

  CONTENTS

  GENERAL INTRODUCTION

  THE LUCK OF ROARING CAMP AND OTHER SKETCHES. The Luck Of Roaring Camp.The Outcasts Of Poker Flat. Miggles Tennessee's Partner. The Idyl Of RedGulch Brown Of Calaveras

  CONDENSED NOVELS. Muck-A-Muck: A Modern Indian Novel. Selina Sedilia.The Ninety-Nine Guardsmen. Miss Mix. Mr. Midshipman Breezy: A NavalOfficer. Guy Heavystone; Or, "Entire:" A Muscular Novel John Jenkins; Or,The Smoker Reformed Fantine. After The French Of Victor Hugo "La Femme".After The French Of M. Michelet The Dweller Of The Threshold N. N.:Being A Novel In The French Paragraphic Style No Title. Handsome Is AsHandsome Does. Lothaw; Or, The Adventures Of A Young Gentleman In SearchOf A Religion. The Haunted Man: A Christmas Story. Terence Denville.Mary Mcgillup. The Hoodlum Band; Or, The Boy Chief. The InfantPolitician, And The Pirate Prodigy.

  EARLIER SKETCHES. M'liss: An Idyl Of Red Mountain. I Smith's Pocket. IIWhich Contains A Dream Of The Just Aristides. III Under The GreenwoodTree. IV Which Has A Good Moral Tendency. V "Open Sesame". VI The TrialsOf Mrs Morpher. VII The People vs John Doe Waters. VIII The Author ToThe Reader--Explanatory. IX Cleaning Up. X The Red Rock High-Water Mark.A Lonely Ride. The Man Of No Account. Notes By Flood And Field. WaitingFor The Ship: A Fort Point Idyl. A Night At Wingdam.

  SPANISH AND AMERICAN LEGENDS. The Legend Of Monte Del Diablo. The RightEye Of The Commander. The Legend Of Devil's Point. The Adventure OfPadre Vicentio: A Legend Of San Francisco. The Devil And The Broker: AMedieval Legend. The Ogress Of Silver Land; Or, The Diverting History OfPrince Badfellah And Prince Bulleboye. The Christmas Gift That Came ToRupert: A Story For Little Soldiers.

  GENERAL INTRODUCTION

  The opportunity here offered [Footnote: By the appearance in Englandseveral years ago of an edition of the author's writings as thencollected.] to give some account of the genesis of these Californiansketches, and the conditions under which they were conceived, ispeculiarly tempting to an author who has been obliged to retain a decentprofessional reticence under a cloud of ingenious surmise, theory, andmisinterpretation. He very gladly seizes this opportunity to establishthe chronology of the sketches, and incidentally to show that what areconsidered the "happy accidents" of literature are very apt to be theresults of quite logical and often prosaic processes.

  The author's _first_ volume was published in 1865 in a thin book ofverse, containing, besides the titular poem, "The Lost Galleon," variouspatriotic contributions to the lyrics of the Civil War, then raging,and certain better known humorous pieces, which have been hithertointerspersed with his later poems in separate volumes, but are nowrestored to their former companionship. This was followed in 1867 by"The Condensed Novels," originally contributed to the "San FranciscoCalifornian," a journal then edited by the author, and a number of localsketches entitled "Bohemian Papers," making a single not very plethoricvolume, the author's first book of prose. But he deems it worthy ofconsideration that during this period, i.e. from 1862 to 1866,he produced "The Society upon the Stanislaus" and "The Story ofM'liss,"--the first a dialectical poem, the second a Californianromance,--his first efforts toward indicating a peculiarlycharacteristic Western American literature. He would like to offer thesefacts as evidence of his very early, half-boyish but very enthusiasticbelief in such a possibility,--a belief which never deserted him, andwhich, a few years later, from the better-known pages of "The OverlandMonthly," he was able to demonstrate to a larger and more cosmopolitanaudience in the story of "The Luck of Roaring Camp" and the poem of the"Heathen Chinee." But it was one of the anomalies of the very conditionof life that he worked amidst, and endeavored to portray, that thesefirst efforts were rewarded by very little success; and, as he willpresently show, even "The Luck of Roaring Camp" depended for itsrecognition in California upon its success elsewhere. Hence the criticalreader will observe that the bulk of these earlier efforts, as shown inthe first two volumes, were marked by very little flavor of the soil,but were addressed to an audience half foreign in their sympathies, andstill imbued with Eastern or New England habits and literary traditions."Home" was still potent with these voluntary exiles in their momentsof relaxation. Eastern magazines and current Eastern literatureformed their literary recreation, and the sale of the better class ofperiodicals was singularly great. Nor was the taste confined to Americanliterature. The illustrated and satirical English journals were asfrequently seen in California as in Massachusetts; and the authorrecords that he has experienced more difficulty in procuring a copy of"Punch" in an English provincial town than was his fortune at "Red Dog"or "One-Horse Gulch." An audience thus liberally equipped and familiarwith the best modern writers was naturally critical and exacting, andno one appreciates more than he does the salutary effects of this severediscipline upon his earlier efforts.

  When the first number of "The Overland Monthly" appeared, the author,then its editor, called the publisher's attention to the lack of anydistinctive Californian romance in its pages, and averred that, shouldno other contribution come in, he himself would supply the omissionin the next number. No other contribution was offered, and the author,having the plot and general idea already in his mind, in a few days sentthe manuscript of "The Luck of Roaring Camp" to the printer. He hadnot yet received the proof-sheets when he was suddenly summoned to theoffice of the publisher, whom he found standing the picture of dismayand anxiety with the proof before him. The indignation and stupefactionof the author can be well understood when he was told that the printer,instead of returning the proofs to him, submitted them to the publisher,with the emphatic declaration that the matter thereof was so indecent,irreligious, and improper that his proof-reader--a young lady--hadwith difficulty been induced to continue its perusal, and that he, as afriend of the publisher and a well-wisher of the magazine, was impelledto present to him personally this shameless evidence of the mannerin which the editor was imperilling the future of that enterprise. Itshould be premised that the critic was a man of character and standing,the head of a large printing establishment, a church member, and, theauthor thinks, a deacon. In which circumstances the publisher franklyadmitted to the author that, while he could not agree with all of theprinter's criticisms, he thought the story open to grave objection, andits publication of doubtful expediency.

  Believing only that he was the victim of some extraordinarytypographical blunder, the author at once sat down and read the proof.In its new dress, with the metamorphosis of type,--that metamorphosiswhich every writer so well knows changes his relations to it and makesit no longer seem a part of himself,--he was able to read it withsomething of the freshness of an untold tale. As he read on he foundhimself affect
ed, even as he had been affected in the conception andwriting of it--a feeling so incompatible with the charges againstit, that he could only lay it down and declare emphatically, albeithopelessly, that he could really see nothing objectionable in it. Otheropinions were sought and given. To the author's surprise, he foundhimself in the minority. Finally, the story was submitted to threegentlemen of culture and experience, friends of publisher andauthor,--who were unable, however, to come to any clear decision.It was, however, suggested to the author that, assuming the naturalhypothesis that his editorial reasoning might be warped by his literarypredilections in a consideration of one of his own productions, apersonal sacrifice would at this juncture be in the last degree heroic.This last suggestion had the effect of ending all further discussion,for he at once informed the publisher that the question of the proprietyof the story was no longer at issue: the only question was of hiscapacity to exercise the proper editorial judgment; and that unless hewas permitted to test that capacity by the publication of the story, andabide squarely by the result, he must resign his editorial position. Thepublisher, possibly struck with the author's confidence, possibly fromkindliness of disposition to a younger man, yielded, and "The Luck ofRoaring Camp" was published in the current number of the magazine forwhich it was written, as it was written, without emendation, omission,alteration, or apology. A not inconsiderable part of the grotesquenessof the situation was the feeling, which the author retained throughoutthe whole affair, of the perfect sincerity, good faith, and seriousnessof his friend's--the printer's--objection, and for many daysthereafter he was haunted by a consideration of the sufferings of thisconscientious man, obliged to assist materially in disseminating thedangerous and subversive doctrines contained in this baleful fiction.What solemn protests must have been laid with the ink on the rollers andimpressed upon those wicked sheets! what pious warnings must have beensecretly folded and stitched in that number of "The Overland Monthly"!Across the chasm of years and distance the author stretches forththe hand of sympathy and forgiveness, not forgetting the gentleproof-reader, that chaste and unknown nymph, whose mantling cheeks anddowncast eyes gave the first indications of warning.

  But the troubles of the "Luck" were far from ended. It had secured anentrance into the world, but, like its own hero, it was born with anevil reputation, and to a community that had yet to learn to love it.The secular press, with one or two exceptions, received it coolly,and referred to its "singularity;" the religious press franticallyexcommunicated it, and anathematized it as the offspring of evil; thehigh promise of "The Overland Monthly" was said to have been ruined byits birth; Christians were cautioned against pollution by its contact;practical business men were gravely urged to condemn and frown uponthis picture of Californian society that was not conducive to Easternimmigration; its hapless author was held up to obloquy as a man who hadabused a sacred trust. If its life and reputation had depended on itsreception in California, this edition and explanation would alike havebeen needless. But, fortunately, the young "Overland Monthly" had inits first number secured a hearing and position throughout the AmericanUnion, and the author waited the larger verdict. The publisher, albeithis worst fears were confirmed, was not a man to weakly regret aposition he had once taken, and waited also. The return mail fromthe East brought a letter addressed to the "Editor of the 'OverlandMonthly,'" enclosing a letter from Fields, Osgood & Co., the publishersof "The Atlantic Monthly," addressed to the--to them--unknown "Author of'The Luck of Roaring Camp.'" This the author opened, and found to be arequest, upon the most flattering terms, for a story for the "Atlantic"similar to the "Luck." The same mail brought newspapers and reviewswelcoming the little foundling of Californian literature with anenthusiasm that half frightened its author; but with the placing of thatletter in the hands of the publisher, who chanced to be standing by hisside, and who during those dark days had, without the author's faith,sustained the author's position, he felt that his compensation was fulland complete.

  Thus encouraged, "The Luck of Roaring Camp" was followed by "TheOutcasts of Poker Flat," "Miggles," "Tennessee's Partner," and thosevarious other characters who had impressed the author when, a meretruant schoolboy, he had lived among them. It is hardly necessary to sayto any observer of human nature that at this time he was advised bykind and well-meaning friends to content himself with the success ofthe "Luck," and not tempt criticism again; or that from that momentever after he was in receipt of that equally sincere contemporaneouscriticism which assured him gravely that each successive story wasa falling off from the last. Howbeit, by reinvigorated confidence inhimself and some conscientious industry, he managed to get together in ayear six or eight of these sketches, which, in a volume called "TheLuck of Roaring Camp and Other Sketches," gave him that encouragementin America and England that has since seemed to justify him in swellingthese records of a picturesque passing civilization into the compass ofthe present edition.

  A few words regarding the peculiar conditions of life and society thatare here rudely sketched, and often but barely outlined. The author isaware that, partly from a habit of thought and expression, partly fromthe exigencies of brevity in his narratives, and partly from the habitof addressing an audience familar with the local scenery, he oftenassumes, as premises already granted by the reader, the existence ofa peculiar and romantic state of civilization, the like of which fewEnglish readers are inclined to accept without corroborative facts andfigures. These he could only give by referring to the ephemeral recordsof Californian journals of that date, and the testimony of far-scatteredwitnesses, survivors of the exodus of 1849. He must beg the reader tobear in mind that this emigration was either across a continent almostunexplored, or by the way of a long and dangerous voyage around CapeHorn, and that the promised land itself presented the singular spectacleof a patriarchal Latin race who had been left to themselves, forgottenby the world, for nearly three hundred years. The faith, courage, vigor,youth, and capacity for adventure necessary to this emigration produceda body of men as strongly distinctive as the companions of Jason. Unlikemost pioneers, the majority were men of profession and education; allwere young, and all had staked their future in the enterprise. Criticswho have taken large and exhaustive views of mankind and society fromclub windows in Pall Mall or the Fifth Avenue can only accept forgranted the turbulent chivalry that thronged the streets of SanFrancisco in the gala days of her youth, and must read the blazon oftheir deeds like the doubtful quarterings of the shield of Amadis deGaul. The author has been frequently asked if such and such incidentswere real,--if he had ever met such and such characters. To this he mustreturn the one answer, that in only a single instance was he consciousof drawing purely from his imagination and fancy for a character and alogical succession of incidents drawn therefrom. A few weeks afterhis story was published, he received a letter, authentically signed,_correcting some of the minor details of his facts_ (!), and enclosingas corroborative evidence a slip from an old newspaper, wherein the mainincident of his supposed fanciful creation was recorded with a largenessof statement that far transcended his powers of imagination.

  He has been repeatedly cautioned, kindly and unkindly, intelligentlyand unintelligently, against his alleged tendency to confuse recognizedstandards of morality by extenuating lives of recklessness, and oftencriminality, with a single solitary virtue. He might easily show thathe has never written a sermon, that he has never moralized or commentedupon the actions of his heroes, that he has never voiced a creed orobtrusively demonstrated an ethical opinion. He might easily allegethat this merciful effect of his art arose from the reader's weak humansympathies, and hold himself irresponsible. But he would be conscious ofa more miserable weakness in thus divorcing himself from his fellow-menwho in the domain of art must ever walk hand in hand with him. So heprefers to say that, of all the various forms in which Cant presentsitself to suffering humanity, he knows of none so outrageous, soillogical, so undemonstrable, so marvelously absurd, as the Cant of"Too Much Mercy." When it shall be proven to him that com
munities aredegraded and brought to guilt and crime, suffering or destitution,from a predominance of this quality; when he shall see pardonedticket-of-leave men elbowing men of austere lives out of situation andposition, and the repentant Magdalen supplanting the blameless virgin insociety,--then he will lay aside his pen and extend his hand to thenew Draconian discipline in fiction. But until then he will, withoutclaiming to be a religious man or a moralist, but simply as an artist,reverently and humbly conform to the rules laid down by a Great Poetwho created the parable of the "Prodigal Son" and the "Good Samaritan,"whose works have lasted eighteen hundred years, and will remain when thepresent writer and his generation are forgotten. And he is conscious ofuttering no original doctrine in this, but of only voicing the beliefsof a few of his literary brethren happily living, and one gloriouslydead, who never made proclamation of this "from the housetops."

  * * * * *

  THE LUCK OF ROARING CAMP, AND

  OTHER STORIES AND SKETCHES

  * * * * *

  THE LUCK OF ROARING CAMP

  There was commotion in Roaring Camp. It could not have been a fight,for in 1850 that was not novel enough to have called together the entiresettlement. The ditches and claims were not only deserted, but "Tuttle'sgrocery" had contributed its gamblers, who, it will be remembered,calmly continued their game the day that French Pete and Kanaka Joe shoteach other to death over the bar in the front room. The whole campwas collected before a rude cabin on the outer edge of the clearing.Conversation was carried on in a low tone, but the name of a womanwas frequently repeated. It was a name familiar enough in thecamp,--"Cherokee Sal."