The Gilded Age by Mark Twain and Charles Dudley Warner

Source of book: I own this

This book is a joint effort by Mark Twain, who needs no introduction; and Charles Dudley Warner, who does. 

 Charles Dudley Warner

Warner was a critic, essayist, novelist, and editor who was reasonably well known in his day, but has since faded into obscurity. He left, however, two significant legacies in addition to this book. First, his travelogue about Southern California, Our Italy, said so many nice things about San Diego that he is honored by no fewer than three streets in the Point Loma neighborhood. (Naturally, "Charles Street," "Dudley Street," and "Warner Street.")

(Side note: I am from SoCal, and love San Diego, so I am completely unsurprised that Warner found it to be a nice place.)

The second legacy was his famous aphorism, “Everybody complains about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.”

Ironically, this quote is often misattributed to Mark Twain.

The Gilded Age in fact gave the name to The Gilded Age, the period of expansion, corruption, and excess following the Civil War. I became interested in this book as a result of reading Railroaded: The Transcontinentals and the Making of Modern America, which mentions this novel as being on point.

Had I read this book before Railroaded, I would have attributed Twain and Warner’s description of the corruption, graft, and bribery in congress to a purposeful hyperbole, an exaggeration to make a point.

Having read the actual evidence - including the writings of those involved - which was carefully documented in Railroaded, I believe that Twain and Warner actually understated the level of corruption.

Like any collaborative book, The Gilded Age is a bit uneven in quality. In general, the Twain authored portions (and you can usually tell the difference) are better - and more biting - than than the Warner authored passages. The need to create a coherent plot (and really, tie the competing plots together) lead to some interesting compromises. In addition, there are some standard Victorian tropes which are a bit tiresome. First, the inevitable corruption and destruction of the beautiful but too-assertive woman. Second, the love triangle resulting in another woman left to pine away on her own. Third, the easy disposal of a character by sending him off to a “foreign” destination lest he figure in the plot. (In this case, San Francisco stands in for Paris or Rome.)

Twain’s plot follows the Hawkins family from their impoverished beginnings to their, well, impoverished state at the end of the book. Two children are adopted as they move west, and these two play key roles an effort is made to lobby the US government to purchase the land, thus making the family wealthy.

in the drama. At the heart of this story is the attempt to sell a large plot of undeveloped land. Eventually,

An interesting fact about this plot is that it takes inspiration from a real event in Twain’s life. His family likewise owned a parcel of land that they believed was immensely valuable, despite all evidence to the contrary. Likewise, a key character in the novel, “Colonel” Beriah Sellers, was patterned after one of Twain’s relatives. More about him later.

In contrast, Warner’s plot follows the fortunes of two young upper class friends, Henry and Philip, who head west to survey the land in advance of the railroad, and (they hope) acquire land which they can sell for a profit. Henry is shallow but charming, while Philip is hard working but a bit dull.

The plots come together in Hawkeye, where the Hawkins’ live. Henry becomes enamoured of the gorgeous Laura, and becomes a companion of Beriah Sellers, a figure sort of like Mr. Micawber from David Copperfield, who is always speculating, sure something will “turn up.” Unlike Micawber, though, Sellers continually has his hand in some sort of a speculation or scheme. He is quick to find ways to bring others on board, being a natural salesman. However, his judgment is lacking, and everyone - including himself - ends up going bust. Sellers not only mirrored Twain’s relative, I suspect many of us can name a friend or relative like him. The person who is mostly harmless, has good intentions, but is always seeking a “get-rich-quick” scheme. More often than not, such a person gets himself and those around him in difficulties of some sort or another.

While Philip searches for coal in a joint venture with his eventual father-in-law, the rest head to Washington to attempt to arrange a sale of the Tennessee property to the government, in what amounts to a pretty clear swindle. The second half of the book, thus, primarily concerns the political gamesmanship over the bill and the dirty politics that accompanies anything in Congress. As I noted before, the book is every bit as cynical as anything said about politics here in the 21st Century, but it turns out that it was accurate! (I noted in my review of Railroaded that today’s politicians are amateurs compared to those of the past. The total amount of land given away to the railroads - to say nothing of the loan guarantees and direct payments - would have been the third largest state in the union - nearly the size of Texas.)

Twain details all of the dirty deals needed to make this happen. The backdoor quid pro quo, the clothing of a swindle in the language of virtue and charity. The enrollment of religious organizations.

Your religious paper is by far the best vehicle for a thing of this kind, because they’ll ‘lead’ your article and put it right in the midst of the reading matter; and if it’s got a few Scripture quotations in it, and some temperance platitudes and a bit of gush here and there about Sunday Schools, and a sentimental snuffle now and then about ‘God’s precious ones, the honest hard-handed poor,’ it works the nation like a charm, my dear sir, and never a man suspects that it is an advertisement…

The more things change, I guess. While an appeal to “the poor” isn’t particularly effective in today’s Christianity, an appeal to fear and “the children” remains the key way that unholy marriages of religion and politics are consummated.

Religion isn’t the only institution that gets a barb, though. Clearly Twain reserves his bitterest ire for Congress and politics. But the press doesn’t exactly get off easy either, as Twain points out its love of sensation and easy cooption. But there is some pity too. Even when the press gets it right, it isn’t effective.

Senator Dilworthy: “Give us newspaper persecution enough, and we are safe. Vigorous persecution will alone carry a bill sometimes, dear...And then presently, it changes the tide of public opinion. The great public is weak-minded; the great public is sentimental; the great public always turns around and weeps for an odious murderer, and prays for him, and carries flowers to his prison and besieges the governor with appeals for his clemency, as soon as the papers begin to howl for his blood...

One interesting historical anachronism that political junkies will appreciate: When this book was written, United States Senators were “elected” by the State legislatures, unlike now, when they are elected by popular statewide vote. This meant that Dilworthy, in his re-election campaign, had to schmooze with his fellow legislators, plus go out to the public to ensure that his allies at the state level would retain their seats.

Since this book was co-written by Twain, there are naturally some great quotable lines.

In the preface, Twain takes aim at the all-too-common practice of critics:

We do not object to criticism; and we do not expect that the critic will read the book before writing a notice of it. We do not even expect the reviewer of the book will say that he has not read it.

Early in the novel, Twain writes a set-piece about a steamboat race. Like a few other bits in the novel, this was based on a real event. A couple of captains decide to show off, racing each other down the river. As a result, one boiler explodes, destroying the boat and killing dozens of people. Twain describes the aftermath:

A jury of inquest was impaneled, and after due deliberation and inquiry they returned the inevitable American verdict which has been so familiar to our ears all the days of our lives - “Nobody to blame.”

While in the decades to follow, the civil law would fill this gap to a degree, holding the deep pockets, at least, accountable for needless deaths, the statement still all too often applies to the criminal courts. One cannot but think of the Eric Garner case as one where a senseless and unnecessary death resulted in a “Nobody to blame” verdict.

Another set-piece that Twain carries off extremely well is a scene in which Laura, with some time to kill, enters a bookstore manned by a thoroughly stupid clerk, who knows nothing of books beyond the current thrillers and low-class joke books. Laura absolutely takes him down, but he only sort of gradually figures out how badly he is being dissed. I considered quoting some of it, but it is too long for a simple review, and is best read in context. Definitely, this was the best part of the book. (I’m sure this book is available free online. Chapter 36.)

The final section that I found quite interesting was a scene between Philip and his eventual wife, Ruth. She is the daughter of a somewhat progressive Quaker family - her father has defied the judgment of his fellow Quakers to allow Ruth to study to become a physician. As she and Philip contemplate a life together, the usual issues come up. I can attest to the fact that the same questions which Warner addresses in 1873 are still the ones couples like my wife and I have had to work through 130 years later. Ruth starts it off, discussing the fate that unattached women have in the world:

“[T]he worst of it is that you men do not want women educated to do anything, to be able to earn an honest living by their own exertions. They are educated as if they were always to be petted and supported, and there was never to be any such thing as misfortune. I suppose, now, that you would all choose to have me stay idly at home, and give up my profession.”

“Oh, no,” said Philip, earnestly, “I respect your resolution. But, Ruth, do you think you would be happier or do more good in following your profession than in having a home of your own?”

“What is to hinder having a home of my own?”

“Nothing, perhaps, only you never would be in it - you would be away day and night, if you had any practice; and what sort of a home would that make for your husband?”

“What sort of a home is it for the wife whose husband is always away riding about in his doctor’s gig?”

“Ah, you know that is not fair, The woman makes the home.”

And thus is the entire issue laid out for all to see. Philip, despite being a truly nice guy, still believes in a male-centric viewpoint. The question is what sort of a home she will make for him. The woman makes the home. The idea that he might share even equal responsibility for making a home doesn’t even register. And he considers the choice between home and family on the one hand, and a career on the other, to be a choice she faces. But not him. Never the man, as Ruth points out.

On the one hand, it is amazing that this feminist of a statement was made in the 1870s, not in a feminist writing, but casually, in a novel. On the other, it is discouraging that women are still expected to have the sole, or at least, primary, responsibility for household duties, regardless of whatever else they are doing with their lives. While our society grants women the right to participate in the workforce, there is still a huge stigma for men who “homemake.” And a messy house is always blamed on the woman, even if she works longer hours.

As I said, these are issues that my wife and I have had to address ourselves, and our decisions have not always met with enthusiasm from others.

I give Warner great brownie points, though, for writing a strong female character, one far more intriguing than the tragic Laura; and for noting the key question when it comes to the heart of feminism (the social, political, and economic equality of women): in order for feminism to “work,” men need to take on an equal share of what is still considered “women’s work.” We need to feel an equal responsibility to make a house a home, care for our children, and do the unpraised things that keep the world humming along.

A couple of other things I liked: the authors “pretentiously” put quotes from other sources at the headings of the chapters. In essence, they mock the pseudo-scholarliness of others. While some of the quotes are standard, they also pick ones from obscure languages and cultures, even going so far as to quote translations of the Bible into Native American and African languages. Some feel like the equivalent of translating a pointless Shakespeare quote into Sanskrit just to look smart. Which is exactly the point. The other thing I’ll admit I liked was the way that Warner drew out the subtleties of Ruth’s parents trying to straddle the line between Quaker orthodoxy and the modern needs of their children. It would have been interesting to have more than a couple of chapters devoted to them, as they were the most subtle, and therefore interesting, characters in the book.

So there it is: an interesting book on a fascinating era. Twain and Warner don’t really delve into the other issues that later historians have noted: industrialization and monopolies, but they certainly had the pulse of the national political machine in all its ugliness. In addition, there are individual characters and scenes that are unforgettable. Despite its flaws, this is a worthy book. Twain’s acid humor is evident, and Warner’s more subtle treatment of religious and social issues were also noteworthy. Unfortunately, the two authors seemed to have different and conflicting visions for the book, which made it feel a bit incoherent as it went on. Still, I would consider it worth the effort to read.

Railroaded: The Transcontinentals and the Making of Modern America by Richard White

Source of book: Borrowed from the Library

One of the great things about reading history is that one can gain a perspective that often gets lost in the immediacy of the now. This book is a great example of this.

Clocking in at 517 pages, plus appendices and extensive end notes, this book was a pretty long read. However, it is well written, and much less dry than it could have been.

My number one take-away from this book: our current politicians and corporate insiders are rank amateurs compared with the true professionals of the Gilded Age. Our corruption looks like chump change compared to what went on then, and our worst corporate offenders are completely incompetent at lining their own pockets compared to this era of the American past.

For all the (legitimate) complaints about inequality in our present time, it is good to note that the true age of inequality and fantastic fortunes was in fact the Gilded Age. (This New York Times chart is pretty amazing. It lists the 30 wealthiest Americans, adjusted for inflation. The list is dominated by Gilded Age figures, many of which were associated with the railroads. Likewise, on a worldwide basis, dictators throughout history and Gilded Age magnates fill most of the list.)

The Gilded age dates roughly from the 1870s to the turn of the century, and is, among other things, the era in which the United States expanded its control over more territory and at a faster pace than ever before. The Transcontinental Railroads were a significant factor in this expansion. However, as this book shows, they were also instrumental in the rise of the modern corporation - and all the good and ill that resulted - and in the rise of the modern independent press and labor unions as well.

Plenty of books have been written about the actual construction of the railroads, and they are fascinating. That story is well worth reading. This book takes a look at the inner dynamics of the process, from finance to corruption, from labor disputes, to the eventual bankruptcy of most of the roads. You will not read much about the engineering feats, or the driving of spikes. You will read about bribes, dirty dealing, creative finance, strikes, and the personalities of the major players. Financiers Jay Cooke and J. P. Morgan. Influential politicians such as Salmon Chase and Roscoe Conkling. Railroad magnates Jay Gould, Collis Huntington, Charles Frances Adams, Edward Harriman, and Leland Stanford.

While these stories alone would make this book worth reading, I also thought that the author did an amazing job at making the basics of corporate finance - and the corrupt shenanigans that looted the railroads - both clear and understandable. How do stocks and bonds work? Why would one use subsidiary corporations? What difference does a government guarantee of loans make in real life? These are all in this book, and much more clear than most financial writing, far better than anything you will find in newspapers and magazines these days.

When I was a young teen, probably early high school, my mother became concerned that I failed to understand the downsides of capitalism. I would amend that now to say the downsides of corporatism and government favoritism (these are so often confused these days). So, she encouraged me to read Frank Norris’ The Octopus, which tells in fictional form many of the abuses of the Southern Pacific Railroad. (Side note: at the time, I lived in Los Angeles, but now live in California’s San Joaquin Valley, the setting of the book.)

While The Octopus had its flaws, it did lead to a better understanding of the problems of monopoly and government favoritism.

The first thing to understand about the building of the various western railroads is that they were not done by private individuals, using their own money, or built in response to customer demand. Rather, they were initiated by a government policy, heavily subsidized through loan guarantees and breathtaking land grants. They were supported up to and including the eventual bankruptcies of most by government bailouts. And, like modern financial institutions, their troubles resulted in significant financial collapse in the rest of the economy. As such, they make a good parallel with the modern banking system. However, after reading this book, I again must conclude that the railroad debacle was far worse, and far more sinister than the more recent case. Perhaps most damning: while insiders made some money off of the banks and bailouts, it was insignificant compared to the fortunes made by the fortunate railroad insiders at the expense of both the government and the railroads themselves. As the author puts in the introduction, “The best way to understand the transcontinentals’ simultaneous failure as businesses and success as sources of individual fortunes for insiders is to regard them not as new businesses devoted to the efficient sale of transportation but rather as corporate containers for financial manipulation and political networking.”

I found it amazing that throughout the book, vast sums of money changed hands between the railroad lobbyists and various politicians, while both sides maintained that they were utterly upright, and had done nothing wrong. The relationships “were a kind of Victorian financial seduction full of high minded declarations of principles, real patriotism and sacrifice, mutual reassurances of rectitude, and dubious dealings.”

What did the railroads gain from the United States Government? First of all, they probably would never have been able to attract investment had the loans not been guaranteed by the government. (Shades of Fanny Mae and Freddy Mac, to be sure.) However, the most amazing subsidy was the land grants. (I read about these in The Octopus, but never grasped the scope.)

The government agreed to grant alternate sections of land to the railroads, on the sides of their right-of-way. The author uses the excellent illustration of a checkerboard. The railroad got the dark squares. Except that it extended 10 miles on each side of the railroad. The railroad would receive 12,800 acres for every mile it built.

To show the breathtaking scope of this grant, if one were to add together all of the land granted to all of the railroads into a single state, it would be the third largest state. Larger than either California or Montana, and only barely smaller than Texas. And this was just given away to the railroads as an inducement to build. (The author notes that a similar plan was used in Canada and Mexico - the pattern was the same.) Of course, this is even worse when one realizes that much of this land was stolen from the Native Americans by force and fraud.

Also disturbing was the way that the insiders in each railroad looted the corporations for their own profit. Most of the insiders (I use the term as it best describes the controlling shareholders and founders) contributed very little of their own money. They would found the railroad corporation, then found a second company (or companies in some cases) that would then contract to build the lines. These secondary companies would charge double the actual cost, collecting half in cash, and the rest in railroad stocks and bonds. Then, as the railroads would receive income, it would go to pay the bond interest and dividends, this enriching the insiders while making the railroads themselves financially shaky.

Since the railroad bonds were in many cases guaranteed by the government, there was little if any risk to the insiders. Again, this was the beginning of the scheme whereby the risk of loss was public (through government guarantees) while the profits accrued to private individuals - primarily the insiders. Fanny Mae and Freddy Mac are the best modern examples of this problem. However, while some individual investors made some money (and AIG didn’t fail like it should), the amount of benefit was miniscule compared with the vast fortunes that Jay Gould and Collis Huntington (the richest of the bunch) and others were able to make out of the scheme.

One of the reasons that the Gilded Age magnates were able to utilize the largesse of the government was that there was little in the way of free press. Many newspapers were easily controlled, either by a political party or a wealthy corporation or individual. However, in 1846, a consortium of seven New York newspapers banded together to centralize the gathering and dissemination of foreign news. This group eventually became the Associated Press, which in turn became the most significant independent news source, and a significant counterpoint to the power of the railroads. (Also interesting - and odd - was the fact that William Randolph Hearst, of all people, was also a fairly independent voice that often went against railroad power. Who knew that a “yellow journalist” would embrace such a role?)

The other significant counterweight to the power of the railroads was the newly formed labor unions. The chapter on the unions and the strikes of the 1890s was fascinating to me.

First, the theory behind labor at that time was that a democracy required individuals “each with a moral right to control his own labor.” The union was a response to the amalgamation of power within the corporation. By combining the force of individuals, there would be an effective counterweight to the corporate power.

I am generally on the conservative side of the political spectrum, at least as the spectrum exists today. However, I have mixed feelings about unions in general. If unions these days resembled the unions of the Gilded Age, I probably would be on their side most of the time. I do believe that there should be a strong counterweight to the power of capital, and organized labor at that time accomplished some amazing things, from workplace safety to the standard eight hour day.

In our modern times, however, unions are on the decline in the private sector. Some of this is due to the fact that unions have fundamentally changed the nature of labor relations, and many large corporations are fearful enough of unionizing that they seek to keep employees happy to prevent it. (Walmart is an example, as is Whole Foods.) At the lower end of the economic scale, the rise of undocumented labor has gutted the leverage of the unions, since the threat of deportation outweighs the advantage of organization. Thus, those that most need the power of a union are not really able to use it.

The one area of unionization that has grown is that of government unions. My opinion of these is somewhat colored by my father’s days working for the Federal Government, in which the union primarily functioned as a free defense for incompetent and lazy employees. The problem is that there is no counterweight to the union. In the private sector, the corporation itself (and the shareholders) profit from squeezing labor. There is a strong incentive to profit at the expense of workers. In the governmental situation, the decision makers (the elected officials) do not gain from keeping labor costs low. If anything, they gain from campaign contributions, which come from organizations. Government unions are a powerful organization (here in California, the prison guard’s union is a major player in lobbying for criminal laws and penalties), but there is no corresponding organization to represent the taxpayers. Thus, mostly middle and upper middle class workers reap the benefits of unions these days, with those lower on the socioeconomic ladder unable to do so. It just seems backwards to me.

One more thing really stood out in the story of the labor disputes: blacks and other minorities were not able to join the union, and were looked on as the enemy.

Lots of interesting stuff here. I have a friend (and fellow musician) whose grandfather (or great grandfather?) was a “coolie,” a Chinese laborer on the Central Pacific Railroad. He helped build the section from Sacramento, California, to Ogden, Utah. Chinese labor was crucial to the western section of the railroad, but they were loathed by most whites. The rhetoric often parallels that used against blacks from the civil war on, and also the rhetoric used against Latino labor these days. Most appalling was the claim that Chinese women, by virtue of the fact that they were often kept as prostitute sex slaves, were a threat to virtuous white boys. However, there were also the usual claims that they degraded the labor market, undercut prices (presumably because they preferred to eat, but whatever), and were a subhuman class compared to the virtuous white man, providing for his family.

I found it interesting that, while the Chinese were the main target (including some thoroughly awful laws) in the West, the list of “undesirables” targeted by the unions included blacks, Italians, Jews (surprise, surprise), Eastern Europeans, and my ancestors, the Scandinavians. (Yes indeed. My ancestors, Scandinavian and German Mennonite, immigrated in the 1890s, and settled along the route of the Great Northern Railroad and others. Interesting historical fact: at that time, fully 15 percent of the residents of the United States were immigrants. It has never been that high since, and is now far below that number.)

If this book is available at your library, I highly recommend reading it. In general, it avoids being preachy or partisan. It lays out the facts with minimal attempts to correlate the past to the present. The book is well researched and documented, and contains significant content from the writings of the major players in the transcontinental railroads. This is one of the better non-fiction books I have read in the last several years, and I have read some good ones. This one will shed some much-needed light on a significant time in history, one whose consequences and rhetoric still dominate our politics today.

Note on the wealthiest Americans in history:

Out of the list of 30, 26 made their fortune in the 1800s, 22 of them during the Gilded Age. Jay Gould and Collis Huntington and several others profited directly from the graft associated with the transcontinentals, several others profited off of easter railroads, and others such as George Pullman indirectly benefited from the railroads. Others got rich in the financial markets, which also benefited from the railroad subsidies, such as J. P. Morgan.

The modern names on this list were more likely to make their money without government subsidies. Beginning with Henry Ford, and including Sam Walton and Bill Gates, these men built their businesses by bringing affordable goods to the masses. Warren Buffett is the possible exception, as he made his fortune in financial markets rather than the direct production or sale of goods.

I also recommend keeping an eye on Buffett for a modern-day railroad issue. If the Keystone Petroleum Pipeline is not approved, that oil will move by railroad. (The rate has increased significantly over the last couple of years.) The road that moves most of this traffic is the Burlington Northern Santa Fe Railroad. Whose controlling shareholder is...wait for it...Berkshire Hathaway. Just something to watch.

Note on further reading:

There are two works of fiction that I want to read regarding the railroads. The first is Mark Twain’s The Gilded Age, which gave its name to the era. I own this book, so I have no excuse not to read it in the near future. (Ok, other than the fact that I have a huge pile of books on my list.)

The second is The Way We Live Now, a book considered by some to be Anthony Trollope’s masterpiece. I am a huge fan of Trollope, and intend to collect all of his novels. I don’t own this one yet, but I’ll try to find a good used hardback somewhere. It will be interesting to see how a Brit handles an American issue.

  Previous Mark Twain reviews:

Tom Sawyer
Pudd’nhead Wilson

Previous Anthony Trollope reviews:

Dr. Thorne
He Knew He was Right
The Barchester Chronicles (TV miniseries)

Note on The Octopus:

The main flaw of the book is not its over-the-top sensationalism, although that is annoying. Like much of early Twentieth Century realist writing, it does take itself just a bit too seriously. The real problem is that it portrays both the CEO of the railroad and the local railroad agent as supernaturally competent, sinister figures. While there is no doubt that the railroads caused the hardships described, and that the profit motive certainly led to the attempt to squeeze every penny out of the farmers, the actual history of the railroads reveals that they were badly mismanaged, and that even after the fact no one could figure out what they actually made or spent. The books were so badly kept that it is a wonder the railroads ever survived. Scott Adams’ observation in The Dilbert Principle (one of the best books about corporate incompetence ever written, in my opinion) that the only reason the corporate world works at all is that the incompetence cancels itself out is the only possible explanation.

Note on Collis Huntington:

After reading this book, I have little good to say about either Leland Stanford or Collis Huntington, the two figures that dominated the railroads in my home state of California. (The Central Pacific and the Southern Pacific.) However, both of them left behind significant legacies that at least partially make up for their looting of the Federal Government and California farmers. Stanford founded Stanford University in honor of his son, who died young while on a European trip.

Huntington, after the death of his first wife, married the much younger Arabella, who may have borne his illegitimate child. After Collis’ death, Arabella would go on to marry Collis’ nephew Harry, who had a fortune of his own from Los Angeles real estate and cable car ventures. Unlike Collis, who preferred to live back east, Harry and Arabella purchased land in the Pasadena area, and proceeded to make an extensive collection of books and art. This collection and their estate is now the Huntington Library and Gardens. If you are ever in the area, this is a great place to visit. We try to go every year. We take advantage of the monthly free days, so, in essence, we are taking back just a little of the looted funds. The library is amazing, and they often have great traveling exhibits. (Also, this is the home of Thomas Gainsborough’s Blue Boy, and Thomas Lawrence’s Pinkie, which are impressive in person.)  I also love the Copley, Sargent, and Cassatt works. A highlight from a couple of years back was William Blake’s illustrations of Paradise Lost. And, one could spend several days just exploring the extensive and beautiful gardens.

The one great legacy of the Gilded Age was the fact that many of the wealthy established foundations for the support of the arts that endure today. Of the moderns, I am most impressed by Bill Gates for his use of his money to attempt to make the third world a better place.

 

My lovely wife at the Huntington Gardens, 2012

 

 My youngest, playing at the Children's Garden, 2012. This is a great place to take the kids.

My older daughters, with some beautiful delphiniums, Huntington Gardens, 2012.

Spring flowers. There is no end to spectacular horticulture at the Huntington - particularly during the spring.