28 September 1872 • London, England (MS: CU-MARK, UCCL 00815)
Night, Sept. 28.
Livy darling, it has been a splendid night. I was at the installation in Guildhall, to-day, of the new Sheriffs & Lord Mayor of London.1explanatory note Tonight ⒶemendationI was at the great dinner given by the news Ⓐemendation Sheriffs of London to the several guilds & liverymen of London. When I arrived nobody seemed to know me—so I passed modestly in, & took the seat assigned to me. There Ⓐemendation was a vast crowd present at the dinner. In accordance with ancient custom, a man got up & called the names of all that immense mass of guests, beginning with the new Sheriff (a tremendous office in London) & called a horde of great names, one after another, which were received in respectful silence—but when he came to my name along with the rest, there was such Ⓐemendationa storm of applause as you never heard.2explanatory note The applause continued, & they could not go on with the list. I was never so taken aback in my n life—never stricken so speechless—for it was totally unlocked-for Ⓐemendationon my part. I thought I was the humblest in that great titled assembleage—& behold, my Ⓐemendationmine was the only name in the long list that called forth this splendid compliment.
I did not know what to do, & so I sat still & did nothing Ⓐemendation. By & by the new sheriff, in his gorgeous robes of office, got up & proposed my health, & accompanied it with the longest & most extravagantly complimentary speech of the evening, & appointed me to rep respond Ⓐemendationto the toast to “literature.”3explanatory note Imagine my situation, before that great audience, without a single word of preparation—for I had expected nothing of this kind—I did not know I was a lion. I got up & said whatever came first, & made a good deal of a success—for I was the only man they consented to her cl hear clear through—& they applauded handsomely. Indeed I wish I had known beforehand the good-will they had for me—I would have prepared a terrific speech. Even the fact that I was placed at the head of the table between Sir Antoine Baker4explanatory note & Sir John Bennett had not prepared me for this ovation. I think it was a sort of lame speech I made, but it was p splendidly received.5explanatory note I love you, Livy darling.
enclosure 1:
(This was sent to me by Douglas Straight, M.P. during the dinner—S. L. C.)
My dear Clemmens—
What do you think of this “Saturnalia,” as far as you’ve got? The ceremony is peculiar but is of ancient date. It came over with the “Conqueror” and has been “too much” for us all ever since, consequently it has been continued. You see by the applause they “read Mark Twain & inwardly digest him.”6explanatory note
Mark Twain
Esq
enclosure 2:
Dear Twain—
will you stand for Literature if the Sheriff gives it? you can speak in your own language & the Press will understand every word.
in ink: Mrs. S. L. Clemens | Cor. Forest & Hawthorne | Hartford | Conn. in upper left corner: U. S. of America. | flourish on flap: slc postmarked: london. w 7 sp30 72 and new york oct. ◇◇ paid Ⓐemendation all .
The London Times reported this ceremony, in which the liverymen, or guild members, chose a new lord mayor, and the new sheriffs took the oath of office:
On Saturday, according to a time-honoured custom at Michaelmas, the Liverymen of the City of London were convened in the Guildhall to elect a member of the Court of Aldermen to the office of Lord Mayor for the ensuing civic year, beginning on the 9th of November. Sir Sills John Gibbons, the Lord Mayor, went in state from the Mansion-house, at 11 o’clock, to preside at the ceremony, escorted by the Sheriffs, and, as usual, preceded by trumpeters. Prior to the election, the new Sheriffs, Mr. Alderman White and Mr. Frederick Perkins, were publicly inducted into office in the presence of the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, attended by the high officers of the Corporation, the retiring Sheriffs all wearing their official robes, and the Liverymen assembled in the Hall. The new Sheriffs, with their friends and Under-Sheriffs, had previously met at the Guildhall Tavern, and had proceeded thence to the Hall for the purpose of making the requisite declarations on assuming office. (“Election of Lord Mayor,” 30 Sept 72, 11)
Clemens’s new friend, Sir John Bennett, was one of the retiring sheriffs. The new sheriffs were Thomas White (1818–83), a wine merchant who had been an alderman since 1871, and Frederick Perkins (b. 1826), who since 1859 had served five terms as the mayor of Southampton. The new lord mayor was Sir Sydney Hedley Waterlow (1822–1906), a stationer and printer who had served as a common councilman, alderman, and sheriff of London (1866–67); he was knighted in 1867 (Boase, 3:1317; “The New Sheriffs,” London Morning Post, 30 Sept 72, 2; “Election of Lord Mayor,” London Times, 30 Sept 72, 11). Clemens described the installation and election ceremonies in his journal (see Mark Twain's 1872 English Journalsclick to open link). The London Telegraph reported:
With an unctuous relish for the quaint traditionary forms, ... each and all who took part in the scene strove laudably to preserve its curious interest and historic dignity in the eyes of strangers. The auspicious rumour that an American man of letters had come to see what he should see was buzzed about; and when it became known that this illustrious visitor was “Mark Twain,” one of the latest and most successful of those comic writers who dissemble their graces and accomplishments beneath a humorous eccentricity of spelling, and who discover a truly international spirit in their mingling of Yankee rhetoric with Cockney rhymes, great was the desire to identify the face of the distinguished littérateur. To so shrewd an observer as Mr. Clemens (“Mark Twain” being only a nom de plume), there must have been much that was both amusing and instructive in Saturday’s ceremonial. (“Civic Changes,” 30 Sept 72, 3)
Attending the sheriffs ‘dinner at the Freemasons’ Tavern were about two hundred and fifty guests, of whom the London Times listed forty-six, among them “Mr. Samuel L. Clemens (‘Mark Twain’)” (“Election of Lord Mayor,” 30 Sept 72, 11). According to Albert Bigelow Paine, Clemens was talking with Bennett while the roll call of guests was being read:
All at once the applause broke out with great vehemence. This must be some very distinguished person indeed. He joined in it with great enthusiasm. When it was over he whispered to Sir John:
“Whose name was that we were just applauding?”
“Mark Twain’s.” ( MTB , 1:463)
Sheriff Thomas White
proposed “Success to Literature,” coupled with the popular name of Mark Twain {cheers}. Who had ever read Mark Twain’s works could have done otherwise than admire him {cheers}. He was glad to be able to say that the gentleman so favourably known in England as Mark Twain was present and that he had kindly consented to respond for the toast {great cheering}. (“Election of Lord Mayor & Swearing in of Sheriffs,” London Observer, 29 Sept 72, 6, clipping in CU-MARK)
Clemens mistook the name: he meant Sir Antonio Brady (1811–81), who began his civil-service career as a clerk and eventually became the first superintendent of the new contract department of the admiralty. Brady retired in March 1870, and three months later was knighted. Thereafter he devoted himself to social, educational, and religious reform. His interest in paleontology led him to recover, from an area near his residence, a large collection of mammalian remains, later deposited in the British Museum of Natural History.
The London Observer of 29 September printed the following text of Clemens’s speech, whose splendid reception was no doubt aided by the conviviality of the occasion:
Mr. S. L. CLEMENS (Mark Twain), who was very indistinctly heard, was understood to say—Messrs. Sheriffs, Ladies, and Gentlemen: Though I have had no previous notice, I am ready for you this time {laughter}. I beg to thank you very heartily for the expression of goodwill which you have displayed towards me {hear}. It was only an hour ago that I was told that I should be called upon to respond to a toast with which I was told that my name would be coupled. I am, therefore, not very well prepared to respond to the kind manner in which my name has been referred to. It would not, perhaps, be becoming in me to trouble you very much on an occasion like the present. Indeed, I am not prepared to do so. I have been taken so much by surprise that I do not know that I can adequately speak to the toast with which you have so kindly coupled my name {cries of Go on}. The toast to which I have been called upon to respond is one in which I take a great interest—one with which I have had some slight connection {laughter}. I regret that you did not tell me that I was to speak to such a toast as this. Had you given me even twenty-four hours’ notice instead of half an hour, I should have prepared a speech respecting literature which I am certain would have proved very acceptable to you—in fact a speech which I believe would have made your hair stand on end {laughter}. I must only hope that under these circumstances you will excuse me. I beg you will understand that I have no lack of words, I have no want of ideas, and that I have no want of method in putting those ideas together in a sufficiently chaste manner to meet the public gaze {cheers}. All I want is time {laughter}. Had you given sufficient time I might have prepared a speech such as I hope and believe would have proved satisfactory {renewed laughter}. As I have told you, literature is a subject in which I take some interest, but you will admit it is a subject which cannot be treated upon very offhand or readily {hear}. If you take me by surprise in this manner, and if I do not reply in adequate terms, you have yourselves to blame and not me {laughter}. I should like very much to express myself properly on an occasion like the present, and I think, if I were disposed, I might keep you all the night long {cries of All right and Go on}. I could do so, but I had better not; at least I am sure you think so {laughter, and cries of Speak louder}. It is impossible for me to speak louder. I have been at this table so long, and the wines have been so good and so various, that I have become to be perhaps too emotional {laughter}. I should be glad to speak louder if I could, but I do not know that I can do so under the circumstances. I am not a person who is inclined to talk nonsense. Therefore I like to leave to some one better prepared to say what I have got to speak about {hear, hear}. I have crossed the Atlantic with the intention of doing some good. I hope you will allow me to do that good in my own collected and reflective way {hear, hear}. Instead, therefore, of butchering a subject in which I feel much interest, and respecting which I do not like to speak without some reflection, I beg you will allow me to leave it to other gentlemen who may be better prepared to do justice to the matter. I have only to say, ladies and gentlemen, in conclusion, that I thank you very much for the cordial reception you have given to the toast and to myself this evening {cheers}. (SLC 1872)
The London Times noted, “Mr. Clemens, the American humourist, “Mark Twain,” acknowledged, in an amusing speech, the toast “Success to Literature,” with which his name had been associated” (“Election of Lord Mayor,” 30 Sept 72, 11).
From the collect for the second Sunday in Advent in The Book of Common Prayer: “Blessed Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning; Grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them” (Blunt, 73–74).
In 1907 Clemens recalled his “first experience of a banquet in a foreign country”—clearly the present occasion, although he forgot that he was unprepared to speak:
I was there by appointment, to respond to a regular toast, of which there were nine! Nine to be responded to, and mine in the place of honor—the last! It was a large distinction to confer upon a stranger, and I was properly proud of it; sorry for it too, for it broke my heart to wait so long; if I had had a hatful of hearts it would have broken them all. When at last the long, long, exhausting wait was ended, and my turn was come, and my gratitude rising up and pervading and supporting my whole system, a disaster befell: Sir John Bennett rose, uninvited, and began to speak. The indignation of the weary house burst out with the crash of an avalanche—a crash made up of shouts of protest and disapproval, powerfully aided and reinforced by deafening pounding of the tables with empty champagne bottles. But no matter—the gallant Sir John stood serene on the distant edge of the smoke and storm of battle and visibly worked his jaws and his arms, undismayed—and in silence, of course, for neither he nor any other man could hear a word that he was saying. He was one of the two out-going sheriffs, and it was said that he always made speeches at the great banquets; that he was never invited to make them; that no one had ever been able to find out whether they were good or bad, or neither, because nobody had ever heard one of them, since the tempest of resentment always broke out with his rising and never ceased until he finished his pantomime and sat down again. (AD, 29 Aug 1907, CU-MARK)
MS, Mark Twain Papers, The Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley (CU-MARK). Both enclosures survive with the letter. Straight’s note was written on a scrap of paper measuring 7 by 3 inches, torn from a larger sheet, conceivably a menu or program for the event (a small section of printed box is visible on the back of the note). Bennett’s calling card is photographically reproduced.
L5 , 183–188; LLMT , 178–79.
see Samossoud Collection in Description of Provenance.
More information on provenance may be found in Description of Provenanceclick to open link.