From Olivia L. and
Samuel L. Clemens To
Olivia Lewis Langdon
17 May 1873 • SS Batavia at New York, N.Y.
(MS: CtHMTH, UCCL 00916)
Darling Mother—
Mrs Fairbanks has just left us—she spent the night on ship board with us—Claras letter to Allie will tell you all the [news ]— 1 We saw Mrs Brooks for a few moments— 2 We feel as happy as possible and as hopeful of a successful voyage—Capt. Mouland is perfectly delightful and does everything for our comfort—The baby had a good nights sleep—I am glad there is no bidding good bye to be done here it would be very hard—
All your thoughts of us must be pleasant thoughts for I am sure we shall do well—
Mother Fairbanks was such a comfort to us—
Good bye, mother dear, we are just backing away from the pier.3 Shall send this back by the pilot. Love.
Sam ℓ .
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
Have you an intention to go to New York this spring,
if so cannot you arrange to come to us and to go on to New York with
Samℓ and Livia when they
sail[?] It would delight me and them very much if you
could do so.—I do not think I shall be equal to going,
but Charlie will go with them doubtless and perhaps some others of
the family. (CtHMTH) Clemens, Olivia, and Susy and her nurse (Nellie), along
with Clara Spaulding, left Elmira accompanied by Fairbanks (and probably
Charles Langdon) on 15 May, arriving in New York late the same day or
very early the next. On the night of 16 May, Fairbanks stayed with
Olivia in her cabin aboard the Batavia, while
Clemens spent the night at the St. Nicholas Hotel; Clara probably stayed
on board as well. Allie was Alice Spaulding, Clara’s older
sister (17 May 73 to Warner, n. 5; “Prominent
Arrivals,” New York Tribune, 17 May
73, 12; L3, 182 n. 6).
I can see him now. It was on the deck of the Batavia, in the dock. The ship was casting
off—with that hubbub, & confusion,
& tramping & rushing of
sailors, & shouting of orders, & shrieking of
boatswains’ whistles which marked the
departure-preparations in those days. ... Every individual was in
storm-rig—heavy clothes of sombre hue &
melancholy to look upon, but new, & designed &
constructed for the occasion, & strictly in accordance
with sea-going etiquette—anything wearable on land being distinctly & odiously
out of the question! Very well. On that deck, & gliding
placidly among those honorably & properly upholstered
groups, appeared Thompson, young, grave, long, slim, with an aged
& fuzzy plug hat towering high on the upper end of him
& followed by a gray linen duster which flowed down
without break or wrinkle to his ancle-bones! He came straight to us & shook hands,
& compromised us. Everybody could see that we knew him.
To see those passengers stare! A nigger in heaven could not have
created a profounder astonishment. However, Thompson didn’t know
anything was happening. He was right out of East Windsor, where the
farmers had no prejudices about clothes, & where a person
was correct enough as long as he had some on. I can still see him as
he looked when we passed Sandy Hook & the winds of the
big ocean smote us. He had not seen the big ocean before,
‸for a good while,‸ & he stood apart
absorbed in it.
& comparing the majestic reality with his long-time
dreams of it;
e
Erect, & lofty, & grand he stood,
not facing the blast, holding his plug on with both
hands, & his generous duster blowing out behind
‸level with his neck‸ & flapping
& flopping like a loosed maintogallant royal in a gale.
There were scoffers observing, but he didn’t know it,
& wasn’t disturbed. (SLC 1909, 9–12)
Source text(s):Previous publication:
L5, 366–367.
Provenance:donated to CtHMTH in 1962 or 1963 by Ida
Langdon.
Emendations and textual notes:
news • news news [corrected miswriting]
