June 28 Friday – Though all 27 days Sam spent in England were busy, Sam labeled this day as especially so. From Sam’s A.D. for July 30:
One of the incidents of the 28 was a visit to the ancient, the vast, the illustrious University Press. Under the guidance of its superintendent, Dr. Hart, I went all over it. For seven years I th had been feeling unkindly toward it, but when I found that it was flying the American flag from its staff, in compliment to me, my vanity was touched, and the same result followed that had followed my meeting with Henry VIII. [actor at the pageant]—a good deal of my prejudice was sponged out. ….
The University Press is not a thing of yesterday, it is an antiquity; it dates back to a time when there wasn’t any such thing as a printing-press as yet. In the long ago, learned monks made books there—made them on vellum with the pen and illuminated them with the brush.
….
One of the other incidents of the 28th gave me peculiar pleasure, and reminded me of the prized welcome extended to me by the stevedores at Tilbury. In Oxford I was the guest of Robert Porter and his family; he had a luncheon party that day, and the butler of an Oxford don volunteered his services and superintended the function in order that he might have speech of me. After the guests had retired to the drawing-room I returned and talked with him and found, to my large contentment, that he knew ten or fifteen times as much about my books as I knew about them myself. He was an evidence that to me has been granted that rare and precious prize which Louis Stevenson and I dubbed the Suppressed Fame; and so I highly valued his frank and earnest homage. …
There was still another incident of the 28 of which I wish to make a note: in the evening, th after dinner, I went down by invitation to talk to the Rhodes scholars at their club—the American Rhodes scholars, I mean. As I understand it, the American Club is made up of American students, and not exclusively of Rhodes American students. There are about ninety American Rhodes scholars on the foundation all the time, for each of our States is privileged to send two. ….
I have uttered nothing but praises in speaking of the Rhodes benefaction, but they have been wrung from me; they have not come easily and fluently, for I always detested Mr. Rhodes; I never saw him, either in South Africa or in London; I avoided his vicinity; I never met him, and never wanted to meet him; my praises of what he has done must at least be granted the merit of sincerity. In several ways he was a very great sinner, but I think there is not a saint in the endless Roman calendar whom he could afford to trade halos with [MTFWE 70-73]. Note: see source for full text.
In London Sam signed a copy of CS to Evelyn Gifford: “To / Miss Evelyn Gifford— / This: / to assure her that that evening is certainly not going to be forgotten by / hers sincerely / The Author / June 28/07” [MTP].
An authentic printed silk “keepsake” was printed in Sam’s presence and bearing this date. See insert [eBay: All Things Bought & Sold, Item 350241463920, Sept. 18, 2009]
The Stratford-Upon-Avon Herald, June 28, p.8 announced the coming of Mark Twain, under “Local News”:
“MARK TWAIN” COMES TO STRATFORD.—
“Mark Twain” (Mr. S.L. Clemens) will be the guest of Miss Marie Corelli at Mason Croft to- morrow (Saturday) to luncheon. The famous American author will arrive at the Great Western station at 10.45 a.m. by the train from Oxford, when he will be met by his hostess, who will drive with him direct to the Birthplace, thence to the church, and afterwards to Mason Croft, where a few of Miss Corelli’s friends have been invited to meet him. He will return again to London the same afternoon.
Marie Corelli arrived in London to make sure that Sam would keep his luncheon date for June 29th in Stratford. He had tried to cancel after accepting, when he realized that he needed to give a speech in the evening of June 29 at the Lord Mayor’s banquet. Sam related the meeting:
She came to Oxford on the 28 to make sure of her prey. I begged her to let me off, I implored, I supplicated; I pleaded my white head and my seventy-two years, and the likelihood that the long day in trains would stop every three hundred yards and rest ten minutes would break me down and send me to the hospital. It had no effect. By God I might as well have pleaded with Shylock himself! She said she could not release me from my engagement; it would be quite impossible; and added—
“Consider my side of the matter a little. I have invited Lady Lucy and two other ladies, and three gentlemen; to cancel the luncheon now would inflict upon them the greatest inconvenience;
I said --without doubt they would have declined other invitations to accept this one; in my own case I have canceled three social engagements on account of this matter.”
“Which is the superior disaster: that your half-dozen guests be inconvenienced, or the Lord Mayor’s three hundred? And if you have already canceled three engagements, and thereby inconvenienced three sets of guests, canceling seems to come easy to you, and it looks as if you might add just one more to the list, in mercy to a suffering friend.”
It hadn’t the slightest effect; she was as hard as nails. I think there is no criminal in any jail with a heart so unmalleable, so unfazeable, so flinty, so uncompromisingly hard as Marie Corelli’s. I think one could hit it with a steel and draw a spark from it.
She is about fifty years old [was 52], but has no gray hairs; she is fat and shapeless; she has a gross animal face; she dresses for sixteen, and awkwardly and unsuccessfully and pathetically imitates the innocent graces and witcheries of that dearest and sweetest of all ages; and so her exterior matches her interior and harmonizes with it, with the result—as I think—that she is the most offensive sham, inside and out, that misrepresents and satirizes the human race to-day. I would willingly say more about her, but it would be futile to try; all the adjectives seem so poor, and feeble, and flabby, this morning [MTFWE 73-74; MTAD Aug. 16, 1907]. Note: See prior and post-segments under June 29.
The Christian Age (London) ran an anonymous article, “Mark Twain, p.458. Tenney: “‘The name of Mark Twain years ago was the synonym for humor—humor of that pure, delightful quality which only America seems able to give us.’ He thought of himself only a ‘funny man’ until his middle years, when he discovered his real seriousness. ‘Recently he has attacked the Congo administration, and his burning words on that subject have proved him to be thoroughly in earnest.’ Unfortunately, reporters persist in seeking comic copy, as in their accounts of his return to England. ‘The reputation of being funny is a difficult one to shake off’” [Tenney: “A Reference Guide Fifth Annual Supplement,” American Literary Realism, Autumn 1981 p. 165].
Public Opinion (London) ran an anonymous article, “ ‘Mark Twain’ as a Master of English,” p. 812. Tenney: “Summarizes accounts by Douglas Story in the TRIBUNE describing MT’s healthy appearance, and by William Archer in the MORNING LEADER praising him as a humorist, realist, humanitarian, psychologist, and above all, ‘a great master of the English language….If Mark Twain had never written anything but “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn ,” the honour [of an Oxford degree] would be amply justified’” [Tenney: “A Reference Guide Fifth Annual Supplement,” American Literary Realism, Autumn 1981 p. 165].
Isabel Lyon’s journal: It is hot, and Delia cleaned the King’s room.
Rev. Percy Grant came in at 6 instead of 5 and chatted with me about Bernard Shaw and Ibsen and some other things, but mostly of the King and so the house seemed less lonely. The Rev. Percy enjoyed that dinner in Tuxedo when talk was so labored, and will be glad to go again.
Will dines here every night. He has been so good in helping us to plan for our departure [MTP 77-78]. Note: “Will” was Charles E. Wark, Clara’s accompanist.
H. Algar wrote from London sending four poems (not in file) but each named on a note “with the complts of the writer, The Revd H. Algar, BA, Oxd” [MTP].
Miss E. Katherine Bates wrote from Oxford that she had witnessed Sam receiving his degree. “My thoughts went back to an early spring morning in Florence, 3 years ago & to a sad talk we had then…by your kind invitation. …A few minutes later, I read of your irreparable loss…She would have rejoiced in seeing the honor given to you & the sincere & deep affection shon you by our dear old Alma Mater” [MTP].
Henry Campbell-Bannerman sent Sam an engraved invitation with S.L. Clemens written in, to a celebration of the King’s birthday for this day, Friday, June 28 [MTP]. Note: Likely sent just before June 28
Andrew Carnegie wrote from London on Brown’s Hotel stationery:
Dear Saint Mark
Madam & I just in from hobknobbing with the Emperor feel the want, (I do, not Madam who is sinless) of my Father Confessor, feel it badly & all over—Hence this call. We are off tonight for Skibo. When are you coming to see us there in your holy capacity, Sinner-Saint—We hope soon” [MTP].
Evelyn Gifford wrote on Arlington House, Oxford stationery: “The great pleasure of meeting you needs no remembrances but that you should have sent me this book with its most kind messag, is going to make me hold my head a bit higher all my life” [MTP].
Horace Hart, Controller (“printer to the University”) Oxford sent a set of the English Dialect Dictionary, as directed by Professor Joseph Wright. Hart also enclosed a hand written note: “Cannot you come down about 12 o’clock and spend half an hour in the University Press? It is full of your admirers and other things. / Always…” [MTP].
Aimee Headland-Stevens wrote on King Edward VII Sanatorium, Midherst stationery. A widow with a little girl, “all that was left to me” and a patient in the hospital, she remembered him when she was “quite young” [MTP].
John Henniker Heaton wrote on Carlton Club stationery to ask for ten minutes interview for the Rev. Isidore Harris, an old friend of his [MTP].
Archibald Henderson wrote on Hotel Victoria stationery, London to Ashcroft to convey thanks for the book and hoped that Clemens had received his telegram at the Pageant [MTP].
R. Hopkins wrote from Dublin, Ireland: “I beg to enclose this little crisp, magnetic, Dublin comic Journal,” since he was an admirer and reader [MTP].
Liverpool Chamber of Commerce sent a telegram requesting Sam’s presence at lunch during his visit on July 12 [MTP].
H.E. Marshall wrote from Oxford to “Dr. Mark Twain” asking if he would “accept the enclosed small book from a very humble admirer? I think yours are the funniest ever written. Don’t tell an Englishman—(I am a Scotswoman) but my opinion is, Dickens isn’t in it!” [MTP].
Lucian Oldershaw wrote from Fernley, Maidenhead: “You have so often made me laugh.” Oldershaw expressed “a real debt of gratitude” [MTP].
Courtenay Pollock wrote from London, asking to call on him to “express more clearly…the details of a favor I would ask of you.” She asked for sittings “to make a bronze portrait” of Twain [MTP]. Note: Ashcroft wrote on the letter: “lack of time”
Ernest A. Robinson, letterpress printer, Grimsby, England, sent “a copy of my small work, as a high appreciation of the pleasure myself and millions have derived from your efforts” [MTP].
J.L. Sleeman wrote from West Kensington to welcome him and to thank him for his remarks in “More Tramps Abroad” (FE) concerning the “Thugs” of India and his grandfather W.H. Sleeman. He was now the only descendant and wished to thank Clemens for portraying his grandfather’s lifes work [MTP].
George W. Smalley wrote on Beefsteak Club London stationery to “introduce to you my friend Mr Leslie Ward of ‘Vanity Fair’.” If Sam would see Ward, Smalley would be “ever so much obliged” [MTP].
Mary Sonedon wrote from Suffolk to send best wishes for the pleasure his works had given her; years before she had heard him lecture [MTP].
An unidentified person wrote from Surrey to thank him for CS, and hoped tht it would “open the eyes of many in England who are now hypnotized by its pernicious teaching” [MTP].
A.H. Willoughby wrote from Oxford to apologize that her sister, Mrs. W.H. Langhorne had sent a copy of her husband’s book in sheets, not realizing that there were bound copies remaining [MTP].