Mr. Robert Porter’s visit to Mr. Clemens, in Tuxedo; also Francesca’s and Dorothy’s—Copy of one of Dorothy’s stories—an Indian tale.
Robert Porter arrived from EnglandⒶtextual note and OxfordⒶtextual note a week or ten days ago, in the first trip of that wonderful ship which all the nations and all the newspapers have been admiring and talking about ever since—the Lusitania Ⓐtextual note. Mr. Porter was my host during those days that I spent in Oxford. He is of the staff of the London Times, and has come over here on a special mission for that paper. He came out to Tuxedo for a day or two, and among other matters of interest he told us of his ingenious invention whereby he communicates with his family daily, by cable, without expenseⒺexplanatory note: whenever his wife and daughter take up the Times at breakfast, in Oxford, they eagerly seek the American cables and run their eyes down the column, paying no attention to any of its contents [begin page 155] except the scattered names of our public men. The moment they light upon one of those names their interest is intensely concentrated there, and upon the word which precedes the name and the word which follows it; these two are always adjectives, and hidden in their insides is Porter’s private and confidential message to the wife and daughter. Necessarily, the name which Mr. Porter has occasion to use oftenestⒶtextual note is the President’s; that name’s attendant adjectives convey messages of affection, condition of health, and various other matters of a family nature—consequently the President’s name appears in the cables with a good deal of frequency. The adjectives that precede and follow the names of our other public men convey information of other sorts to the Oxford household. Just as Mr. Porter was leaving Oxford a near neighbor, who is a friend of his family and is also an acquaintance of mine, ran over and gave him an errand to do for her in New York. She dearly hoped he could accomplish it for her, but she had her doubts. In any case, she wanted to be relieved of the misery of suspense as soon as possible, so she begged him to write her the result with all possible dispatchⒶtextual note. Mr. Porter said,
“I’ll cable it.”
“Oh by no means,” exclaimed the lady, in whose mind cabling is associated with ruinous expense, and soⒶtextual note she was aghast at the idea,Ⓐtextual note no matter whom the cost might fall upon.
“Yes,” said Porter, “I’ll cable it. You must not be kept waiting. It is too important for that; I will cable it at the expense of the Times.”
The lady was distressed at such an idea, and also surprised. She said gravely,
“But will that be honest?”
“Oh no,” said Porter, “but that is no matter. The Times will never find it out.”
When Mr. Porter arrived in New York he carried the lady’s affair through successfully, the first day. He wanted to send the good news at once, but in order to do it he was obliged to have the use of Mr. Bryan’s name, and he couldn’t get it, for the reason that the unexpected and the almost impossible happened: Bryan was quiet during two whole days, consequently there was no way to utilize him in a cablegram; but on the third day the permanent candidate for the PresidencyⒶtextual note did something, or said something, and at breakfast the next morning hisⒶtextual note Ⓔexplanatory note name appeared in a cablegram in the Times in a sentence beginning “The irrepressible Bryan.” That was the desired adjective, and Mrs. Porter at once telephoned that waiting lady, saying “The cablegram has come, and everything is as you wanted it.”
When the Lusitania Ⓐtextual note was half wayⒶtextual note across the Atlantic, Mr. Porter, assisted by the ship’s engineers, made some nice and carefully worked-out calculations; then based some predictions upon the calculations and sent the predictions by wireless to the London Times and the New York World—to wit, that the new ship’s average speed on the voyage would be twenty-three knots and two-tenths per hour, and that she would make the run to New York in so many days and so many hours—I have forgotten the precise details. The prediction as to knots was only a tenth of a knot out of the way Ⓐtextual note, if my memory is right,Ⓐtextual note and the prediction as to the length of the voyage missed the precisely correct figureⒶtextual note by only six minutes! Ⓐtextual note Ⓔexplanatory note Prophecy has not arrived at this exactness before, I judge, either in ancient times or modern.
[begin page 156] Francesca and her mother arrived from England ten days ago, and spent a couple of days with usⒺexplanatory note. Ten days earlier Dorothy, my latest little shipmate, arrived here and we had her delightful society during seven days and nightsⒺexplanatory note. She is just eleven years old, and seems to be made of watch-springs and happiness. The child was never still a moment, when she wasn’t asleep, and she lit up this place like the sun. It was a tremendous week, and an uninterruptedly joyful one for us all. After she was gone, and silence and solitude had resumed their sway, we felt as if we had been through a storm in heaven.
Dorothy is possessed with the idea of becoming a writer of literature, and particularly of romance, and it was a precious privilege to me to egg her onⒺexplanatory note, and beguile her into working her imagination. She was intensely in earnest. I was her amanuensis; she did the dictating. I never betrayed myself with a laugh, but the strain which I had to put upon every muscle and nerve and tendon in me, to keep from breaking out, almost made a physical wreck of me sometimes. She is swift with the pen, she is hampered by no hesitations when she is dictating, and she is even a more desperate speller than ever Susy was. We began our mornings early—as early as half pastⒶtextual note eight—Ⓐtextual noteand from that time until nine in the evening there were no breaks in our industries. I say our industries because I always assisted her in them until I broke down at noon; then Miss Lyon stood a watch till about three; then I resumed my watch. In order to save myself from perishing, I usually persuaded Dorothy to devote this half-afternoon watch to literature. By grace of this subterfuge, I was enabled to lie down and perform; I lay on one lounge on the back porch and she on another one at my side; then she dictated her stories glibly, and I set them down. When a story was finished I dictated it backⒶtextual note to her from my manuscript, and she wrote it down. I got around telling her why I observed this practice; I didn’t want her to know my reason, which was that I wanted the tale in her own brisk and tumultuous handwriting, adorned with her own punctuation—I mean the absence of it—and steeped in the charm of her incomparable spelling. Her tales were of a highly romantic order, and she chose highly romantic scenes and episodes for them; but at that point romance usually took a rest; it didn’t extend itself to the names of her characters; any Ⓐtextual note sort of name would answer for her heroesⒶtextual note—and five times in six they bore names of so plebeian and flat and pulpyⒶtextual note a sort as to almost disqualify those persons from doing heroic things. But to me those forlorn names were golden, and I wouldn’t have traded them for the most high-sounding ones in the world’s romantic literature. One day she dictated an Indian romance, and I set it down. The little rascal was all innocence and candor, and was seldom suspicious, but it cost me many lies to keep her so, because every now and then as the sentences fell felicitously from her lips they hit me hard, and my suppressed laughter made my body shake; and when she detected that, I could notice a vague suspicion in her voice when she would ask what was the matter with me. The answer which came nearest to satisfying her was that I was feeling a little chilly; but that had also another effect, which was not a happy one for me, for it aroused her affectionate solicitude and she would not rest until I had taken some whisky to keep me from catching cold. Before we got through with the brief Indian tale—which I am going to [begin page 157] insert here just as she wrote it, just as she spelled it, just as she punctuated it—the loving little creature had inflicted so many whiskies on me that my efficiency as an amanuensis was a little damaged and rickety; and if the tale had gone on a little longer I should have been incapable.
in the very DeptsⒶtextual note of the forest the day was a sultry day and Henry Potter was tiered of hunting when suddenly a wild war hoop sounded very near him great heavens it’s the Idains what can I do the hoop was comming nearer and nearer I must run for my life now he thought but then yes I must oh what can I do—the hoop was almost upon him now and from the other direction was comming another hoop good heavens it must be a band there is no chance I must hide in that hollow tree the indainsⒶtextual note by this time were there they at once began to camp then one of the Idains said we must have some wood for our fire there is a good tree there he pointed to the one where Henry was Hiding the men of the tribe began to approchⒶtextual note the tree with tomahaks one of the Idains saw the hollow in the tree and said oh there must be an annimal in that tree I will get that for my supper Henry was thinking a nice supper you’ll have out of me and even in all the danger that was around him he could not help smailing the IdainsⒶtextual note split the hole in theⒶtextual note tree wider and when Henry saw his eye he knew no more — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —— — — — — — — — — — —— — — — — — — —
when he awoke he was in a large tent the tent of the chife who was glaring down upon him I wish I could make you see that tent with all the grim old warriors in thier coustans*Ⓐtextual note ranged about thier chief eager to see what was to be done with this new captive—Ⓐtextual notehe will be burned cried some others he will be stoned with a lot of other opinons—at last the chief said put him under gaurd for tonight tomorrow we will decide what to do with him. Henry saw an indain girl in the ranks of women start and look toward him—then he was led away it was about 11 oclock that night when a gentle footstep came lightly into the tent then said a voice he thoughtⒶtextual note he knew come with me at once who are you asked Henry I am Margearet oh Margearet cried Henry Margearet was a girl who had dissepered from the seltemet 2 years ago she was dressed as an Indain girl and was taned† Ⓐtextual note she and Henry loved each other and were to be married she said we have no time for talking now come Henry followed her and she led him safely to the edge of the forest where they lived happily ever afterwards.
DorothyⒶtextual note reeled off this masterful tale just as she has punctuated it—without a pause anywhere, and just as if Henry’s adventures were passing before her eyes at the momentⒶtextual note and she was simply setting them down according to theⒶtextual note facts. I was glad when “Margearet” got her young man safely out to the edge of the forest where they lived happily ever afterwards—without the formality of a marriage—for I thought for a moment that she was going to furnish the pair a family without any superfluous preliminaries and I would get another whisky-drench by consequence.
*Costumes.
†Tanned.
Robert Porter arrived from England . . . by cable, without expense] Robert P. Porter (1852–1917) was born in England, but emigrated to the United States in the mid-1860s and became a journalist, working for a succession of newspapers including the Chicago Inter-Ocean, the Rockford (Ill.) Gazette, the Philadelphia Press, and the New York Tribune. He married in 1874, but in 1884 he divorced his first wife and married Alice Russell Hobbins (1853–1926), also born in England but raised in Madison, Wisconsin; they had four children. A newspaper correspondent in her own right, Alice was on the staffs of the New York Daily Graphic and the Chicago Inter-Ocean, successively. Robert founded the New York Press in 1887, with Alice on the staff. In the 1890s the couple lived in Washington, D.C., where Robert served as director of the Eleventh United States Census, traveling also on special assignments for the government. In 1904 he joined the London Times, becoming its principal Washington correspondent in 1906. The “special mission” which brought him to America in 1907 has not been identified. On 12 September, aboard the Lusitania, he received Clemens’s invitation to Tuxedo Park; he was met by Ashcroft at the dock in New York, and arrived in Tuxedo Park on 14 September. Lyon described him in her journal as “a sturdy chunky Englishman, & very agreeable & hearty. He enjoyed his food & the house & Tuxedo & seemingly everything” (“Robert P. Porter,” Chicago Tribune, 12 June 1884, 3; Jackson and Jackson 1951, 13; Willard and Livermore 1893, 2:582–83; Lyon 1907, entries for 12 and 14 Sept; Porter to SLC, 13 Sept 1907, CU-MARK; for the Lusitania see the note at 155.33–41).
Mr. Bryan’s name . . . permanent candidate for the Presidency] See the Autobiographical Dictation of 14 July 1908, note at 258.18–19.
When the Lusitania was half way across the Atlantic . . . correct figure by only six minutes] At the time of her maiden voyage, the Cunard RMS Lusitania was the largest steamship in the world, measuring 790 feet and accommodating twenty-two hundred passengers with a crew of over eight hundred. The transatlantic crossing from Queenstown (Ireland) to Sandy Hook, from 7 to 13 September 1907, established a speed record of slightly over five days, about six hours less than the previous record. As a special correspondent for the London Times, Porter described the crowds assembled to cheer the ship’s departure and arrival, and explained that fog and a desire not to strain the steam-powered propellers prevented an even faster crossing. After arrival on 13 September he reported: “I find that I am a few minutes wrong in my calculations of the probable length of the Lusitania’s passage sent to The Times by wireless telegraphy during the week. I apologize. The time was 5 days 54 min., not 5 days 1 hour. The average speed was 23.01 knots, not 23, as I estimated” (“The Lusitania’s Voyage,” London Times, 14 Sept 1907, 5; “Lusitania’s Maiden Trip,” Wall Street Journal, 14 Sept 1907, 7; “Lusitania Here at 9 A.M. To-day,” New York Times, 13 Sept 1907, 1).
Francesca and her mother . . . spent a couple of days with us] Frances Nunnally and her mother, Cora, visited Tuxedo Park on 28–30 September. Lyon recorded in her journal that Clemens was “so gay & sweet & pretty in his ways with ‘Francesca’ who is a dear grave girl of 16, with the most wonderful little slender hands.” The weather was poor, and the party spent much of the time playing hearts (Lyon 1907, entries for 28 and 30 Sept; for Nunnally see AD, 25 July 1907, and note at 74.15–21).
Ten days earlier Dorothy . . . society during seven days and nights] Clemens had met ten-year-old Dorothy Gertrude Quick (1896–1962) of Plainfield, New Jersey, on board the SS Minnetonka, while coming home from England in July 1907. She was traveling with her mother, Emma Gertrude Quick, and her grandparents (her father was no longer living with his family). Her 3–12 September visit to Tuxedo Park was the second since their return; she had first stayed there on 5–9 August. On 15 August Clemens wrote to her mother, “Every day & every hour of her brief stay, Dorothy was a delight & a blessing, & every night it cost me a pang to let her go to bed. Hers is a most beautiful & lovable character, & she will never lack for adoring friends while she lives” (Quick 1961, 11; 1 Aug 1907 and 15 Aug 1907 to Quick, CU-MARK; Lyon 1907, entries for 3 and 12 Sept; Schmidt 2009). Clemens’s warm friendship with Dorothy continued until his death. She bequeathed her letters from Clemens to the Mark Twain Papers; their extensive correspondence is published in Mark Twain’s Aquarium (Cooley 1991).
Dorothy is possessed with the idea of becoming a writer . . . privilege to me to egg her on] In a letter written after Dorothy’s first visit, Clemens advised her:
It is a good idea, to choose a name in advance, & then fit the literature onto it when the literature comes. I will keep on the lookout for a fortunate name, dear. Write another little story, now, & send it to me. It will take you several years to learn to do a story even tolerably well, & it will cost lots of good hard work, & patient thought, & sharp attention, & close observations, & ever so much tearing-up & re-writing—but no matter, it’s worth the trouble; & no trade is ever well learned on any other terms. (17, 18, 19, 21, and 22 Aug 1907, CU-MARK, in Cooley 1991, 52–54)
For Dorothy’s pen name Clemens suggested “Nebraska Chesterfield,” “Oregon Trail,” and “Oregon de Baragay” (Lyon 1907, entry for 23 Aug). Quick ultimately did become a writer, producing several volumes of poems, mystery novels, and a memoir of her friendship with Mark Twain (Quick 1961). In addition to recounting her meeting with Clemens, her visits to Tuxedo Park (and later, to Stormfield), and his encouragement, she described him working on the autobiography:
Mr. Clemens would walk up and down the room while he was dictating, and the dictation sounded more as though he were talking conversationally than creating a story. He would pace back and forth, his hands behind his back, speaking continuously in his slow, drawling way. Often he would say things that the stenographer would think were just funny little by-comments on the story, but which he actually meant to be in the completed manuscript. Thinking they were Mr. Clemens’ personal observations or for her own benefit, she would leave them out of the script.
Later, when he had finished dictating and turned to correcting the typed manuscript of the work of the day before, he would discover this and break out into fiery explosions of rage because she had left out something he had particularly wanted in the manuscript. His anger would last several minutes, and then he would calm down very suddenly and dismiss it entirely from his mind, for the time being at any rate. (Quick 1961, 62)
Source document.
TS1 Typescript carbon (the ribbon copy is lost), leaves numbered 2306–14, made from Hobby’s notes and revised.The ribbon copy being lost, TS1 (a carbon copy), as revised by Clemens, is the only authoritative source for this dictation.