July 3 Saturday – Since the fourth fell on a Sunday, the town of Keokuk held the festivities on Saturday the third. From early morning people began arriving in the town. It was a clear, sunny, and hot day. Public buildings were decorated with buntings and ribbons. After a morning parade down Main Street, a carriage was sent for Sam to take him and Orion to Rand Park. Sam wore a white duck suit with a tall white hat, which caused a stir in the crowd as he passed to the platform. The carriage then went to bring the rest of the Clemens family. The second regiment band played “Robin Adair,” after which the Rev. R.C. McIllwain offered a prayer. The band then played a second number. Orion then read the Declaration of Independence, a true honor for him. He did so in a “clear and distinct manner.”

Then the Honorable Thomas Hedge Jr. Of Burlington spoke for a half-hour. The audience was appreciative and had anticipated the return of Samuel L. Clemens, who had once been a resident in their town, only 45 miles or so from Hannibal. He was introduced next to loud applause.

Ladies and gentlemen: I little thought that when the boys woke me with their noise this morning that I should be called upon to add to their noise. But I promise not to keep you long. You have heard all there is to hear on the subject, the evidence is all in and all I have to do is to sum up the evidence and deliver the verdict. You have heard the declaration of independence with its majestic ending, which is worthy to live forever, which has been hurled at the bones of a fossilized monarch, old King George the III, who has been dead these many years, and which will continue to be hurled at him annually as long as this republic lives. You have heard the history of the nation from the first to the last — from the beginning of the revolutionary was, past the days of its great general, Grant, told in eloquent language by the orator of the day. All I have to do is to add the verdict, which is all that can be added, and that is, “It is a successful day.” I thank the officers of the day that I am enabled to once more stand face to face with the citizens that I met thirty years ago, when I was a citizen of Iowa, and also those of a later generation. In the address to-day, I have not heard much mention made of the progress of these last few years — of the telegraph, telephone, phonograph, and other great inventions. A poet has said, “Better fifty years of England than all the cycles of Cathay,” but I say “Better this decade than the 900 years of Methuselah.” There is more done in one year now than Methuselah ever saw in all his life. He was probably asleep all those 900 years. When I was here thirty years ago there were 3,000 people here and they drank 3,000 barrels of whisky a day, and they drank it in public then. I know that the man who makes the last speech on an occasion like this has the best of the other speakers, as he has the last word to say, which falls like a balm on the audience — though this audience has not been bored to-day — and though I can’t say that last word, I will do the next best thing I can, and that is to sit down [Schmidt, from Keokuk Weekly Constitution, July 7, 1886].

Fanning writes,

“The first time the Clemens brothers had appeared on a platform was in Keokuk, and on the third of July, 1886 they so appeared for the last time, also in Keokuk” [204].

The Keokuk Weekly Constitution, also remarked:

Mr. Clemens’s remarks were frequently interrupted by laughter at his inimitable manner and the drollery of his utterance, and he closed amid laughter and applause.

The Keokuk Military band then gave a serenade, “Pleasant dreams,” after which the audience was dismissed with the benediction by Rev. T. H. Cleland, pastor of the First Westminster Presbyterian church.

THE AMUSEMENTS.

At the conclusion of the exercise at the park, many people returned to Main street, where the climbing of the greased pole, wheelbarrow and sack races and lap race took place, and where some paper balloons were sent up.

The day’s entertainment closed with a pyrotechnic display at Rand park at night, which was witnessed by a large concourse of people.

See Fanning 203-4

Meanwhile, in New York, the Tribune first set a part of the day’s paper with the Mergenthaler typesetting machine [Kaplan 287].