3 November 1872 • London, England
(Transcripts: CtLHi; Will M. Clemens, 29, UCCL 00828)
[Langham Hotel,
London, Nov.
3]
[Good for Andrews—new name to me.1 But I knew perfectly well that Briggs was first rate for the platform.2 All the readers I ever saw were idiots when it came to selecting humorous pieces for recitation. Andrews must be of] a superior race of them.
Josh’s letter was good—I sent it to Tom Hood.3 I meant to refer to it in a speech in answer to a regular toast at the annual dinner of the [Whitefriars Club ] [&] the chairman had done me the honor to make me his guest & appointed me a seat at his [right hand] & as I [know] nearly [all of the] [Whitefriars] I expected to have a gorgeous [time.4 But] I got it into my [head] that Friday was [Thursday &] so I [staid] in the country stag-hunting a day too long & when I reached the club last [night] nicely shaved & gotten up regardless of expense, I found that the dinner was [ the night before ].
I would like to stay here about fifteen or seventy-five years, a body does have such a good time.
[I] am [revamping], [polishing & otherwise] fixing up my lecture on [Roughing It] & think I will deliver it in London a couple of [times] about a month from now, just for fun.5 [Have received invitations & [large offers] from pretty much [all] the big English & Scottish towns, but have [declined,] not being fond of railroading. I haven’t been 50 miles from London yet & don’t intend to budge from it till I budge homewards.]
So Stanley gets $50,000 for 100 nights.6 That is as it [ should ] be. They charge $2 to hear Parepa7 sing [2] pieces ([15] [ minutes,] all told) & if you [charged] a dollar to hear one of us fellows [squawk,] it would become the [ fashion ] to [hear us] & then the gates of hell could not prevail against us—we would [ always ] have a full house.
[When] I yell again for less than $500 I’ll be pretty hungry.8 But I haven’t any [intentions] of yelling at any price.
[How does Bret Harte make it? Give me the early news.] 9
[letter docketed:] [ boston lyceum bureau. redpath & fall. nov 25 1872]
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
one of the best trained and most talented
recitationists now living. The most popular comedians and humorists
of the day,—the best actors of New York, as well as
“Nasby” and “Mark
Twain,”—and the press of every city in which
he has appeared, have united in extolling his histrionic powers. His
lecture gives specimens of nearly all the dialects of the United
States and several dialects of the British people. Every dialect is
illustrated by a humorous story or poem. He made a decided hit in
Boston on his first appearance. (Lyceum 1873,
3) Andrews was born in Texas but moved to New York at an
early age, where in 1860 and 1861 he worked as an actor at
Niblo’s Garden. During the Civil War he served on the staff
of General Ambrose Burnside, and at its conclusion he returned to the
stage, successfully enacting both tragic and comic roles. He also served
as the deputy collector of internal revenue for Brooklyn, was twice
elected a New York State assemblyman (in 1868 and 1881), and in later
years became an influential politician (Boston Evening
Transcript: “Lectures,” 14 Oct 72, 2;
“Dialect Humor,” 15 Oct 72, 4; Elderkin, 21–22; Lyceum: 1872, 2; 1873, 3; “William S.
Andrews Dies,” New York Times, 30 Dec
1912, 7; Harlow and Hutchins, 170–73).
The name and fame of Mr. Francis Bret Harte were
not such as to collect a very large audience in Music Hall last
evening, and those who assembled to listen to such remarks as the
man who was once pronounced the “representative American
novelist” might be inspired to make on “The
Argonauts of ’49” were disappointed, for, to
use the words of Mr. Redpath, in his spicy little speech of apology,
“for the third time the Heathen Chinee insulted a Boston
audience.” “The first time,” said
Mr. Redpath, “was at Cambridge, when he promised to
deliver a first-rate poem, and read a second-rate one; the second
time was when he promised to read to the Grand Army of the Republic,
and sent a third-rate poem; and the third time is this evening, when
he does not come at all. His engagement with us was made last June
for the thirty-first of October, a date afterwards changed at his
request. On Saturday, he telegraphed to us, asking that his lecture
here and at Hartford should be either postponed or cancelled. We
wrote to him immediately, telling him that his lecture could not be
postponed, and requesting him to telegraph to us forthwith. This he
did not do, but yesterday we received a letter saying that his
lecture must be either postponed or cancelled as he could not come,
and immediately cancelled his engagement. It is our rule, whenever
we are compelled to disappoint our ticket-holders, to substitute a
better lecturer than the one whose name we withdraw, and, in
accordance with this custom, I invite your attention this evening to
Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes.” (“Bret Harte as a
Breaker of Engagements,” Hartford Evening Post, 15 Nov 72, 2, reprinting the Boston Globe of 14 Nov 72) Holmes did lecture that evening in Harte’s
place, and Redpath managed to announce the last minute change in at
least one Boston paper (“Boston Lyceum. Special
Announcement!” Boston Evening
Transcript, 13 Nov 72, 2). On 15 November the editorial page of the
New York Tribune rushed to defend Harte against
Redpath’s unusual public wrath, asserting that he had
“been unavoidably prevented from delivering his lecture at
Boston on Wednesday night last” (4). That assertion, and the
explanation Harte offered to Hartford (“the pressure of
literary engagements”), do not entirely square with the
fuller explanation Harte sent on 16 November to the Boston Advertiser (one of the newspapers that had
published Redpath’s angry “remarks”): For the last two years Messrs. Redpath and Fall
of the Lyceum Bureau have repeatedly solicited me to enter the
lecture field under their auspices. I finally acceded, and in August
last in an interview with Mr. Redpath stated very clearly the
conditions, and the only conditions, under which I would lecture. On
the first of November I received from them a list of engagements
whose conditions were totally at variance with those I had named. I
at once informed them by letter that I would not accept them, and
reiterated my former demand. To this I received no reply, but on the
9th of November, four days before the date of my Boston engagement,
not wishing to disappoint a gathered audience pending these purely
private and personal negotiations, I telegraphed to Messrs. Redpath
and Fall that they must postpone that date. They replied by
telegraph the same day that it was impossible, adding that Hartford
(my first engagement) would accept my conditions. I at once wrote to
them that until all my engagements were made
equally satisfactory, they must postpone or cancel both, and that I
would not permit Hartford to be forced, at the last moment, into
accepting conditions of which they had not been previously aware. To
this I added that the Boston fire, then burning, was a sufficient
excuse for postponement—an excuse that afterward in the
case of two distinguished lecturers was considered valid and not
particularly “insulting” to a Boston audience. With a perfect understanding of these details,
and with my letter in his pocket, Mr. James Redpath rose before an
audience which he had permitted to gather to hear
a man who he knew would be absent, charged me with
insulting them, depreciated the wares he had asked permission to
peddle exclusively—all in the most extraordinary
performance, I trust, ever given before a New England lyceum. I have only to add that it is still my intention
to lecture before a Boston audience, but not for Mr. Redpath, nor of
him. (Harte 1872) Harte’s letter was published on 20 November
(2). Two days later, Redpath replied to it, also in the Advertiser. He repeated the assertion that it was
in June that Harte first wrote to him offering to lecture in Boston
“on the 30th of October if we agreed to his terms, which we
promptly did accept.” Harte in turn accepted that date
“on the first of July” (Redpath 1872). Harte had still not agreed to a
lecture tour, but by August his reluctance was apparently overcome by
the need for cash, and he met (as he said) with Redpath to spell out
terms. On 1 September Redpath agreed to postpone Harte’s
Boston engagement until 13 November, presumably with the same terms
Harte had earlier proposed. Redpath did not accept Harte’s
bargaining over the terms of his lecture tour as grounds for failing to
appear, as previously agreed, in Boston: We received no notification whatever from him of
his intention not to lecture in Boston until the Saturday preceding
the lecture—before the fire. It
was in these words: “N. Y., Nov. 9, Redpath and Fall:
Must postpone Boston lecture on 13th. Bret Harte.” Just
so much and nothing more. Not a syllable of explanation. Although we
telegraphed at once, and, in a letter sent by that
evening’s mail, urged him to telegraph us on Monday if he could not
keep the engagement, we received not a word from him until Tuesday,
when he not only refused to appear, but made—or seemed to
make—his intention of lecturing in Boston at all conditional on the readjustment of
fees in western Massachusetts, New York, Pennsylvania and Maryland.
Moreover, the letter showed that his lecture had never been written.
(Redpath 1872) This bruising quarrel—which was noticed,
commented on, and partly reprinted in newspapers around the
country—led Redpath to bring suit against Harte, who
ultimately agreed, in October 1875, to pay him $205 in
compensation (Harte to James R. Osgood, 6 Oct 75, ViU, in Harte 1997). Harte nonetheless persisted
in his plans to lecture during the winter, in many cases making
“new and distinct agreements and engagements with each of the
Lyceums that Redpath & Fall had treated with previously as my
agents,” as he reminded George Fall on 29 November 1873
(CU-BANC, in Harte 1997). He appeared in Boston, sponsored by
the American Lecture Bureau (possibly the same as the American Literary
Bureau), on 13 December 1872, exactly one month after his canceled
engagement. Upon arrival he was nearly imprisoned for failing to pay a
tailor’s bill. John S. Clark, of Osgood and Company, was
Harte’s host in Boston and “gave his individual
note on demand to liquidate the bill and release the
prisoner” (“An Embarrassing
Predicament,” New York Evening
Express, 19 Dec 72, 1, reprinting the Boston Saturday Evening Gazette of 14 Dec 72;
“Lecture,” Boston Evening
Transcript, 13 Dec 72, 2; 22 Mar 73 to Larned,
nn. 2, 3).
Source text(s):
P1 | Typescript (CtLHi) |
P2 | Will M. Clemens, 29 |
Previous publication:
L5, 204–212; Bangs 1901, lot 118 (misdated 1871); Anderson Auction Company 1909, lot 303; MTB, 1:473; Paine 1912, 107; and Swann, lot 234; all excerpts.
Provenance:The MS may have been owned (or merely borrowed) by Will Clemens before he
published it in 1900. It was sold by an unnamed consignor in 1901, and in
November 1909 was again offered for sale as part of the collection of Frank
Maier, by which time it was laid in a first edition copy of Roughing It (American Publishing Company, 1872). By
1977 the MS was part of the K. Benjamin DeForest Curtiss Collection of
Watertown Library (Watertown, Conn.), which sold it in that
year—still in the copy of Roughing
It—through Swann Galleries. The unidentified typescript was
also in the Curtiss Collection, before it went to Litchfield.
Emendations, adopted readings, and textual notes:
No copy-text. The text is based on two transcriptions, each of which derives independently from the MS:
P1, an unidentified typescript in the Litchfield Historical Society (CtLHi), contains the entire text of the letter and is the only source that records the docket of the Boston Lyceum Bureau (209.9). Although nothing is known about the origin of P1, it appears to be relatively modern and it is clear that it was based on the MS. P2 omits several passages but is the only source for ‘Langham Hotel’ (208.1). Five other partial texts, listed below under Previous publication, may derive independently from the MS, but contain no persuasively authorial variants. The three catalogs describe the MS as consisting of four pages, and the Anderson and Swann catalogs mention that it was written in pencil.
Handwritten changes on P1 deemed to be simple corrections of typing errors or omissions are not reported, but the handwritten deletions of typed underscores at 208.19, 208.20, and 208.21 are reported because they may in some way reflect the appearance of the missing MS.
Langham ... 3 (C) • Langham Hall | London Nov. 3 (P1); Langham Hotel, London, Nov. 3, 1872. (P2)
Dear Redpath— (C) • Dear Redpath (P1); Dear Redpath: (P2)
Good ... of (P1) • “ * * * I was down for a speech at (P2)
Whitefriars Club (P1) • Whitefriar’s Club, (P2)
& (C) • and [here and hereafter] (P1, P2)
right hand (P1) • right, (P2)
know (P2) • knew (P1)
all of (P1) • all (P2)
Whitefriars (P1) • Whitefriars, (P2)
time. But (P1) • time, but (P2)
head (P1) • head, (P2)
Thursday & (C) • Thursday and (P1); Thursday, (P2)
staid (P1) • stayed (P2)
night (P1) • night, (P2)
the night before (P1) • the night before (P2)
[¶]I (P1) • [no ¶] I (P2)
revamping (P1) • re-vamping (P2)
polishing & otherwise (C) • polishing and otherwise (P1); polishing, in other words (P2)
Roughing It (C) • Roughing It (P1); ‘Roughing It’ (P2)
times (P1) • times, (P2)
Have ... homewards. (P1) • [not in] (P2)
large offers (C) • large offers (P1)
all (C) • all (P1)
declined, (C) • declined‸ (P1)
should (P1) • should (P2)
2 (P1) • two (P2)
15 (P1) • fifteen (P2)
minutes, (P1) • minutes‸ (P2)
charged (P1) • charge (P2)
squawk, (P1) • squeak (P2)
fashion (P1) • fashion (P2)
hear us (P1) • hear us— (P2)
always (P1) • always (P2)
[¶] When • [no ¶] When (P2)
intentions (P1) • intention (P2)
How ... news. (P1) • [not in] (P2)
Ys (C) • As (P1); Yours (P2)
Mark (C) • Mark (P1); Mark. (P2)
boston ... 1872 (C) • BOSTON LYCEUM BUREAU REDPATH & FALLS NOV 25 1872 [facsimile of docket drawn by hand] (P1); [not in] (P2)