After 119 performances, on January 9, 1875, Raymond and com- pany closed at the PARK THEATRE in New York; however, this was only the beginning of the production's history, for it was the era of the great theatre circuits, and Mr. Raymond had booked Colonel Sellers for an ambitious tour which partial records indicate ranged from Toronto to New Orleans and from Washington, D.C. to Salt Lake City.
The extreme popularity of the Colonel Sellers character became the focal point of a bitter feud between Clemens and Raymond. It seems that Raymond, bulged with the rave reviews and financial success, came of the feeling that he had created a Sellers that was far greater than anything Twain had written. On the other hand, Twain felt Raymond had added little comments or gestures that should be removed, and that Raymond, while excelling in the broad comedy, was unable—wasn't man enough—to portray the pathos found in Sellers' character. It was this needed pathos that had led Twain to originally offer the play to Edwin Booth.
Bad feelings rose to such a point that Twain hired an agent whose full time duties were to travel with Raymond and audit the books, making daily reports, via cards, on Twain's share of the profits.
This growing animosity was further illustrated in mid-January of 1875, when the Colonel Sellers company came to Clemens' current home town of Hartford, Connecticut, for two performances. Although he was expected to attend, Twain could not bring himself to watch Raymond's performance. According to Paine, at the end of the fourth act, the standing room only house started calling for the author. Raymond came before the curtain and read this note, which Twain had sent:
MY DEAR RAYMOND—I am aware that you are going to be welcomed to our town by great audiences on both nights of your stay there, and I beg to add my hearty welcome also, through this note. I cannot come to the theatre on either evening, Raymond, because there is something so touching about your acting that I can't stand it. . .How could Raymond not see the double edge of this last remark? Perhaps he did not read the note prior to that moment. Maybe his ego did not permit him to take any other meaning than the apparent face value of the words. But Twain quickly glides over this jab as he continues:
. . .I do not mention a couple of colds in my head, because I hardly mind them as much as I would the erysipelas, but between you and me, I would prefer it if they were rights and lefts.
And then there is another thing. I have always taken a pride in earning my living in outside places and spending it in Hartford: I have said that no good citizen would live on his own people, but go forth and make it sultry for other communities and fetch home the result; and now at this late day I find myself in the crushed and bleeding position of fattening myself upon the spoils of my brethren! Can I support such grief as this? (This is literary emotion, you understand. Take the money at the door just the same.)
Once more I welcome you to Hartford, Raymond, but as for me let me stay at home and blush.
Yours truly, MARK (10)
