July 14 Wednesday — Isabel Ashcroft (Lyon) returned from her honeymoon to respond to the attachment Clemens had placed on her house, “The Lobster Pot.” The New York Times, p. 4, July 15, reported on the conflict and her return. The Ashcrofts had sailed from the US on June 8.
WANTS MARK TWAIN TO EXPLAIN TO HER
Mrs. Ashcroft Hurries Back from Her Honeymoon
Abroad to Find Out About $4,000 Suit.
FORMERLY HIS SECRETARY
She Thinks the Attachment on the Humorist’s
Gift House is the Work of His Daughter.
Mrs. Ralph Ashcroft, who until her marriage a few weeks ago, was Miss I. N. [sic] Lyon, secretary to Mark Twain, arrived yesterday on the Cunard liner Carmania to learn why Mr. Clemens had obtained an attachment of $4,000 against the house in Redding, Conn., he gave her when she got married.
She is a demure-looking woman, but was wroth when she landed, for she had to leave her husband and cut short their honeymoon to return to America. She lays the blame for it all on Miss Clemens, daughter of the humorist, whose artistic temperament, she said, often led her in the wrong direction.
Mrs. Ashcroft was met at the pier by her mother, and after a day in New York she will beard [sic] Mark Twain in his country home, Stormfield, to learn the true inwardness of the attachment and seek an adjustment of the matter.
“Two weeks ago in London I was notified that Mr. Clemens had sworn out an attachment against he house he gave me,” said Mrs. Ashcroft. “I came home as soon as I possibly could, leaving my husband behind. I cannot think that Mr. Clemens is responsible for what has happened. He and I were the best of friends, and he has treated me almost as would a father.
“For seven years I was closely associated with him, I relieved him of every care I could, and he gave me the house, and later lent me the money with which to furnish it. This money, both understood, was to be paid back when I could do so. Knowing him as I do, I cannot believe that he attached the property.
“I believe the whole trouble is caused by his daughter. Miss Clemens is of the artistic temperament, but in this affair I believe that she has been wrongly advised into taking a step she would never have taken had she the right understanding of the case.”
Mrs. Ashcroft said she intended to take steps at once to adjust the matter. She thinks that the whole trouble must be due to some mistake. She said that no request had been made by her former employer for a return of the money. Indeed, she said, that several times she had refused suggestions from him that she consider the cost of fixing up and furnishing the house as a gift from him.
“If Miss Clemens knows all about the case, and I notice that she says she is fully informed as to her father’s affairs, she must know that every step in the restoration of the house was done not only with her father’s knowledge but with his approval,” continued Mrs. Ashcroft. “She does not exhibit a surprising knowledge of affairs when she presented her case, for in spite of what is said to the contrary, every cent that was expended for renovation I incurred a liability to pay.
“Mr. Clemens has notes amounting to nearly $1,000, which were signed by my husband when the first rough estimate was made of the cost of fitting up the place. Mr. Clemens made a written agreement with Mr. Ashcroft to accept his notes for the balance of the indebtedness outstanding upon the completion of repairs.
“The whole case will be settled, but the shame of it is that I should have been placed in an improper and false light.”
Mr. Ashcroft was formerly financial secretary to Mr. Clemens. It is said that both left the humorist’s service because of differences with Miss Clemens.
Note: other NY papers ran similar articles, including one by the NY Herald with a 7-inch photograph of Isabel, July 15, “Ashcrofts Back; Twain Drops Suit”.
Paine recorded a continuation of discussion with Clemens about philosophy:
July 14, 1909. Yesterday’s dispute resumed, I still maintaining that, whereas we can think, we generally don’t do it. Don’t do it, & don’t have to do it: we are automatic machines which act unconsciously. From morning till sleeping-time, all day long. All day long our machinery is doing things from habit & instinct, & without requiring any help or attention from our poor little 7-by-9 thinking apparatus. This reminded me of something: thirty years ago, in Hartford, the billiard-room was my study, & I wrote my letters there the first thing every morning. My table lay two points off the starboard bow of the billiard-table, & the door of exit and entrance bore northeast&-by-east-half-east from that position, consequently you could see the door across the length of the billiard-table, but you couldn’t see the floor by the said table. I found I was always forgetting to ask intruders to carry my letters down-stairs for the mail, so I concluded to lay them on the floor by the door; then the intruder would have to walk over them, & that would indicate to him what they were there for. Did it? No, it didn’t. He was a machine, & had habits. Habits take precedence of thought.
Now consider this: a stamped & addressed letter lying on the floor—lying aggressively & conspicuously on the floor—is an unusual spectacle; so unusual a spectacle that you would think an intruder couldn’t see it there without immediately divining that it was not there by accident, but had been deliberately placed there & for a definite purpose. Very well—it may surprise you to learn that that most simple & most natural & obvious thought would never occur to any intruder on this planet, whether he be fool, half-fool, or the most brilliant of thinkers. For he is always an automatic machine & has habits, & his habits will act before his thinking apparatus can get a chance to exert its powers. My scheme failed because every human being has the habit of picking up any apparently misplaced thing & placing it where it won’t be stepped on.
My first intruder was George. He went and came without saying anything. Presently I found the letters neatly piled up on the billiard-table. I was astonished. I put them on the floor again. The next intruder piled them on the billiard-table without a word. I was profoundly moved, profoundly interested, So I set the trap again. Also again, & again, & yet again—all day long. I Caught every member of the family, & every servant; also I caught the three finest intellects in the town. In every instance old, time-worn automatic habit got in its work so promptly that the thinking apparatus never got a chance [MTB 511-12].
Clemens A.D. for this day is listed by MTP.