The Langham Hotel
Monday.
Dear Doctor & Dear Friend:
Of all the multitude of pretty things we have gathered together in these past few months for the adornment of our new home, these lovely pictures are the loveliest. Mrs Clemens is carried away with [ em enthusiasm ]over them, & I am sure I am too.1 One can not even vaguely imagine the pleasure they are going to give, to in the years that are to [come], to multitudes of people whom we do not even know yet. We do thank you the very best we know how—& that is still better than we can put in words. I am very glad—I am grateful—to know that I reached so high a place with you—& all the more so because we hold you in such love & reverence. Livy, my wife, has never conceived so strong & so warm an affection for any one since we were married as she has for you—& I take as much delight in her daily references to you, affectionate as they are, as if they were love-offerings to me. You were very kind to us in Edinburgh, Doctor, & I wish we could have you with us on the other side of the water so that we could show you how entirely we appreciated it.
Thursday.—The financial panic in America has absorbed about all my attention & anxiety since Monday evening when I laid down this [pen.2 However], I feel relieved, now—of £600 sterling, & so—& so am able to take up my letter again & go on & finish it.3 You ask where you ask how long we stay, s & where to write [us?4 Till ]Oct. 24 your letters will find us here at the Langham Hotel (we sail Oct 25)5 & the more that come seeking us the better [ wil ]we shall like it. No, we didn’t see St Mary’s Church in [Shrewsbury]—we didn’t have time there; but we heard enough about it to wish we had had.6 I will be very glad & very willing, doctor, to take charge of the “collie,” & will take every care of her. I have a good general idea of how to do it, because for a good while, in Esmeralda, a little mining camp far down in California, my neighbor in the next cabin kept them, professionally, & I have often followed them about with him, for re & given him a helping hand with a riat‸ t ‸a now & then when necessity demanded. He had one that used to come at his call & eat from his hand; but she finally fell down the well, in the night, & kno nobody knowing it she was not found until morning, & then her weight was such that she could not be got out. My mother had a favorite one that kicked the breath out of me once, but she gave very good milk. I will take charge of yours with a great deal of pleasure, Doctor, & I think a collie on shipboard would be a real treat; but you because one never gets cream there; but you seem to think they will let her go in the first cabin—which they won’t by considerable; & that the baby can go around pulling & hauling at her tail—which Mrs. Clemens would never allow, I know perfectly well. But it ain’t any difference—I will look after her myself; & if the collie has got a calf, send the calf along too. There is nothing I like better than a calf. on shipboard 7
I sent to Dublin & got your letter from the Shelbourne Hotel—which reminds me that I forgot to go & see Swift’s tomb—but I read Gulliver all over again at Condover (first edition)—which is perhaps as well. Still I am sorry I forgot to see the grave.8
Miss Clara says that though her voice was not heard much, she was k doing a world of affectionate thinking—& you were the object of it. I am sure she never says such pleasant things about me; & yet I have known yet she has known me for years. However, that may be the reason.
Yrs Affectionately
Samℓ. L. Clemens
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
John Forsyth (1810–86), a scholar and clergyman of Scottish ancestry, had been a chaplain and professor
of geography, history, and ethics at West Point since 1871. He may have become acquainted with Brown while studying theology in
Edinburgh in the early 1830s. Brown and his sister Isabella also made a home for Brown’s son, John, known as
“Jock” (John Brown, 135; John [Jock] Brown to SLC, 8 Mar 1906, CU-MARK). An envelope addressed by Brown to Clemens in care of the Routledges and postmarked 20
September survives in the Mark Twain Papers. It now contains only a sentimental poem, possibly by Brown himself, about a couple
recalling their dead baby daughter, which is printed on a folder of stationery imprinted with his letterhead. This envelope may have
contained a letter, now lost, but is almost certainly too small to have enclosed any photographs.
That was a joke about the Colly! you are an Innocent still. I have heard nothing of the
doggie—& if it goes in the same vessel with you you must take no trouble with it—only let Susie
just keep it in society by poking her forefinger into its eye. I have got the £5 for it from the good Professor. (CU-MARK)
Source text(s):
Previous publication:
L5, 439–42; Christie 1981, lot 69, excerpts; Kelleher, lot 19, excerpts.
Emendations and textual notes:
em enthusiasm • emnthusiasm
come • com[e] [torn]
pen. However • pen.—|However
us? Till • us?—|Till
wil we • wile [‘l’ partly formed]
Shrewsbury • [‘ws’ conflated]