June 8 Saturday – Clara Clemens’ 33rd birthday. She saw her father off for England [MTB 1381]
Exactly 40 years from the day he sailed on the Quaker City, Sam and Ralph W. Ashcroft sailed on the S.S. Minneapolis for England [MTHHR 626n1]. Clara Clemens, Isabel Lyon, and Albert Bigelow Paine saw the pair off at the pier, Paine having returned from his information-gathering interviews in the West. Paine had heard of Sam’s Oxford degree only upon reaching New Orleans on his return to New York [MTB 1377-9]. The New York Times, June 9, p.9 reported:
MARK TWAIN SAILS FOR OXFORD HONORS
——— ——— ——— ———
To be Made a Doctor of Literature by the English University.
TELLS OF AUTOBIOGRAPHY
Humorist Says It Will Make Some Persons “Sit Up and Take Notice.”
Samuel L. Clemens, known to everybody best as “Mark Twain,” sailed for England yesterday on the Atlantic Transport liner Minneapolis. On June 26 he will receive from Oxford University the degree of Doctor of Literature, though, as he remarked, that did not mean that he intended to doctor literature.
Mr. Clemens did not wear his famous white suit, and there was a faint suspicion of moisture in his eyes as he declared that this might be his last visit to London.
“I may never go to London again,” he said, “until I come back to this sphere again after I am dead, and then I would like to live in London. I spent seven years there, and I am going back to see the boys.”
“Do you enjoy idleness? he was asked.
“Splendidly. I put in two hours a day dictating my autobiography, but I don’t want it published until after I am dead. And I want to be thoroughly dead when it is published. No rumors, but really dead. I have made it caustic, fiendish, and as devilish as I possible can. It might be what you call a sensation, for I have spared no one. It will occupy many volumes, and I will go right on writing until I am called to the angels and receive a harp.
“The story of my life will make certain people sit up and take notice, but I will use my influence not to have it published until the children of some of those mentioned in it are dead. I tell you it will be something awful. It will be what you might call good reading.”
“Have you included all of Mrs. Eddy’s friends?”
“Yes, you will find them all there all right.”
At this point the author fished a dilapidated cigar from his pocket and finding it of no use threw it overboard, declaring that he would not smoke again. A moment later he begged a cigar from a friend.
A number of Mr. Clemens’s friends hunted for him, quite overlooking him as he stood at the rail. Finally they caught sight of him, and after salutations had been exchanged said: “Where is the white suit? We had been looking for the suit and quite overlooked you.”
“Well,” said the author, “I have discarded the suit for the moment, but your fears may be set at rest, for I am going to wear it again. I am wearing this overcoat to keep out the heat which isn’t here, and as for the style of my clothes they are always selected with due regard to my peculiar style of beauty.”
Mr. Clemens will return on the Minneapolis.
The New York Sun bested the Times and other city papers by putting the story on the front page, June 9
TWAIN OFF TO BE DOCTORED.
———
Will Keep Writing His Terrible Autobiography Until He Joins the Angels.
Mark Twain sailed yesterday [June 8] aboard the Atlantic Transport liner Minneapolis for London to receive from Oxford University the degree of doctor of literature. He said he was glad to go over and greet his old college chums. He expected to receive his degree on June 26. He had booked himself to start back on the Minneapolis on June 29, but he might stay over a boat or two more if his energy held out.
“Are you doing any work now?” the youngest and most serious reporter asked.
“Work? I retired from work on my seventieth birthday. Since then I have been putting in merely twenty-six hours a day dictating my autobiography, which, as John Phoenix said in regard to his autograph, may be relied on as authentic, as it ‘is written exclusively by me[’]. But it is not to be published in full until I am thoroughly dead. I have made it as caustic, fiendish and devilish as possible. It will fill many volumes and I shall continue writing it until the time comes for me to join the angels. It is going to be a terrible autobiography. It will make the hair of some folks curl. But it cannot be published until I am dead and the persons mentioned in it and their children and grandchildren are dead. It is something awful.”
“Is Mrs. Eddy mentioned in it?”
“Yes, she’s there, all right.”
“Can you tell us the names of some of the notables that are here to see you off?”
“I don’t know. I am so shy. My shyness takes a peculiar phase. I never look a person in the face. The reason is that I am afraid they may know me and that I may not know them, which makes it very embarrassing for both of us. I always wait for the other person to speak. I know lots of people, but I don’t know who they are. It is all a matter of ability to observe things. I never observe anything now. I gave up the habit years ago. You should keep a habit up if you want to become proficient in it. For instance, I was a pilot once, but I gave it up and I do not believe the captain of the Minneapolis would let me navigate his ship to London. Still, if I think that he is not on the job I may go up on the bridge and offer him a few suggestions.”
Isabel Lyon’s journal: Saturday night and the King has gone. He sailed on the Minnesota at 4 o’clock. There were so many reporters about him that we could not stay very long and Santa wanted to come home. It seemed so strange and pitiful to have to leave him. I was lying weak and sick when AB came to tell me that he had seen the dear King surrounded by a hideous lot of people and a man ½ drunk threw his arm around the King’s neck and said he’d known him 40 years ago. I do hope Ashcroft will brace up and take care of him. AB made some photographs of him, and stayed to see the ship move off. It’s all wrong to let him go off like that. He is going for honors, but he ought to go with the proper protection too [MTP TS 66].
Dorothy Butes finished her June 7 camping letter. “We tried crossing the Brook again this morning, for our study-hour, but we fell in!” [MTP].
Jervis Langdon II sent a telegram: “Aunt Sue and all Langdons send love and best wishes for a splendid time” [MTP].
Julia Langdon Loomis sent a telegram: “Father and Edward join me in the deepest affection and best wishes to you” [MTP].
On the first page of the Lyon-Ashcroft MS, Clemens wrote “Major Leigh gave us the first case of Queen Anne whisky June 8/07” [L-A MS]. Note: the page contained a list of dates that cases had been acquired, intended as ammunition against Isabel Lyon. Frederick T. Leigh of Harpers. The dates: Jan. 8, Feb. 18, Apr. 15, July 22, Aug. 31, Sept., Nov. 3—all 1908. Also Jan. 18, 1909. The total of eleven cases.
The Reader (London) ran a review of “King Leopold’s Soliloquy,” on p. 146. In part:
Mark Twain never jested in grimmer earnest than he does in “King Leopold’s Soliloquy: A Satire” (Unwin, 1s. net). For some years past the administration of the Congo Free State has been a shame to the humanity of Europe, to say nothing of its Christianity; the King of the Belgians reaping an enormous personal profit from it, and wearing the dirty disgrace of it with a beautiful air of martyrdom.