Sylva, a poetess in her own right, was a friend and
warm admirer of Mark Twain. The Princess Metternich, and Madame de
Laschowska, of Poland, were among those who came, and there were Nansen
and his wife, and Campbell-Bannerman, who was afterward British Premier.
Also there was Spiridon, the painter, who made portraits of Clara
Clemens and her father, and other artists and potentates--the list is
too long.

Those were brilliant, notable gatherings and are remembered in Vienna
today. They were not always entirely harmonious, for politics was in
the air and differences of opinion were likely to be pretty freely
expressed.

Clemens and his family, as Americans, did not always have a happy
time of it. It was the eve of the Spanish American War and most of
continental Europe sided with Spain. Austria, in particular, was
friendly to its related nation; and from every side the Clemenses heard
how America was about to take a brutal and unfair advantage of a weaker
nation for the sole purpose of annexing Cuba.

Charles Langdon and his son Jervis happened to arrive in Vienna about
this time, bringing straight from America the comforting assurance that
the war was not one of conquest or annexation, but a righteous defense
of the weak. Mrs. Clemens gave a dinner for them, at which, besides
some American students, were Mark Hambourg, Gabrilowitsch, and the great
Leschetizky himself. Leschetizky, an impetuous and eloquent talker, took
this occasion to inform the American visitors that their country was
only shamming, that Cuba would soon be an American dependency. No one
not born to the language could argue with Leschetizky. Clemens once
wrote of him:

He is a most capable and felicitous talker-was born for an orator, I
think. What life, energy, fire in a man past 70! & how he does play! He
is easily the greatest pianist in the world. He is just as great & just
as capable today as ever he was.

Last Sunday night, at dinner with us, he did all the talking for 3
hours, and everybody was glad to let him. He told his experiences as
a revolutionist 50 years ago in '48, & his battle-pictures were
magnificently worded. Poetzl had never met him before. He is a talker
himself & a good one--but he merely sat silent & gazed across the table
at this inspired man, & drank in his words, & let his eyes fill & the
blood come & go in his face & never said a word.

Whatever may have been his doubts in the beginning concerning the Cuban
War, M