A Rookie's Guide to Twain Country: February 2012

In the spirit of Valentine's, I thought I'd impart what I believe is a lesser-known fact about our buddy Samuel Clemens. Something he isn't remembered for as much as his many famous works in the genres of humor, adventure, and social commentary and criticism:

Twain at 32.

Twain was also a hopeless romantic.

The object of his affection, Livy Langdon, at 24.

This discovery was brought to me courtesy of a recent program held at The Park Church, "The Love Letters of Mark Twain and Livy Langdon Clemens."

The event, sponsored by the Community Arts of Elmira, Chemung Valley History Museum and the church, celebrated the 142nd Anniversary of Sam and Livy's marriage with a reading of some of their letters by husband-and-wife team Charles and Liz Raudat.

Twain and Livy couldn't have been from more different backgrounds. She was from a well-to-do family here in Elmira, struggled with her health to the point of spending years as an invalid, and was religious and educated. He was from Missouri, left school at a young age to become a printer's apprentice, and spent most of his young adult years being a steamboat pilot, doing work for newspapers and traveling out West.

And then he fell in love with her picture. He was traveling on a ship, where he met her brother Charles who had a picture of Livy, and he fell in love with her portrait before even meeting her.

Twain visited Livy and her family, but they courted mostly by letter for two years, and even having only heard a sampling of their correspondence, was he ever 1000% smitten with her, from her beauty to her intelligence to her disposition. He wrote her letters, for example, urging her to sleep later in the morning for the sake of her health. And one of his letters, literally, had about six post scripts in which he continued to profess his love for her.

She actually rejected him at first, including his first marriage proposal. They came from such different social, geographic and religious backgrounds, and had such different personalities, views and values, that she wouldn't accept him. Seemingly just to keep her in his life, though, he convinced her that they could have a platonic relationship:

My Honored “Sister” –

The impulse is strong upon me to say to you how grateful I am to you and to all of you, for the patience, the consideration & the unfailing kindness which has been shown me ever since I came within the shadow of this roof, and which has made the past fortnight the sole period of my life unmarred by a regret. Unmarred by a regret. I say it deliberately. For I do not regret that I have loved you, still love & shall always love you. I accept the situation, uncomplainingly, hard as it is. Of old I am acquainted with grief, disaster & disappointment, & have borne these troubles as became a man. So, also, I shall bear this last & bitterest, even though it break my heart. I would not dishonor this worthiest love that has yet been born within me by any puerile thought, or word, or deed. It is better to have loved & lost you than that my life should have remained forever the blank it was before. For once, at least, in the idle years that have drifted over me, I have seen the world all beautiful, & known what it was to hope. For once I have known what it was to feel my sluggish pulses stir with a living ambition. The world that was so beautiful, is dark again; the hope that shone as the sun, is gone; the brave ambition is dead. Yet I say again, it is better for me that I have loved & do love you; that with more than Eastern devotion I worship you; that I lay down all my life that is worth the living, upon this hopeless altar where no fires of love shall descend to consume it. If you could but –

But no more of this. I have said it only from that impulse which drives men to speak of great calamities which have befallen them, & so seek relief. I could not say it to give you pain. The words are spoken, & they have fallen upon forgiving ears. For you dear sake my tongue & my pen are now forbidden to repeat them ever again.

And so, henceforward, I claim only that you will let me freight my speeches to you with, simply, the sacred love a brother bears to a sister. I ask that you will write to me sometimes, as to a friend whom you feel will do all that a man may to be worthy of your friendship – or as to a brother whom you know will hold his sister’s honor as dearly as his own, her wishes as his law, her pure judgements above his blinded worldly wisdom. Being adrift, now, & rudderless, my voyage promises ill; but while the friendly beacon of your sisterly love beams, though, never so faintly through the fogs & the mists, I cannot be hopelessly wrecked. I shall not shame your confidence by speaking to you in future letters, of this dead love whose requiem I have been chanting. No, I will not offend. I will not misunderstand you.

My honored sister, you are so good & so beautiful - & I am so proud of you! Give me a little room in that great heart of yours – only the little you have promised me - & if I fail to deserve it may I remain forever the homeless vagabond I am! If you & mother Fairbanks will only scold me & upbraid me now & then, I shall fight my way through the world, never fear. Write me something from time to time – texts from the New Testament, if nothing else occurs to you – or dissertations on smoking – or extracts from your Book of Sermons – anything, whatever – the reflection that my matchless sister wrote it will be sufficient. If it be a suggestion, I will entertain it; if it be an injunction, I will honor it; if it be a command I will obey it or exhaust my energies, trying.

And now, good-bye, my precious sister - & may all the sorrows which fate has ordained for you fall upon this foolish head of mine, which would be so glad & so proud to suffer them in your stead. I leave you to the ministering angels – for, daughter of the earth as you are, they throng the air about you – they are with you, & such as you, always.

Sincerely & affectionately,

Sam L. Clemens

The line that gets me is "dead love whose requiem I have been chanting." Strong stuff.

Eventually through the course of courting her (and courting her family), though, he did win her affection. If you ever get the chance to experience their letters, they're really interesting and eloquent, and well-worth the time.

They were married at the Langdon Mansion, across the street from Park Church, by the Rev. Beecher at 7 p.m. on Feb. 2, 1870 (because the Reverend had a meeting at eight :) They didn't want a big wedding, but the Langdon family was so prominent that there were about 100 people in attendance.

The Park Church event (in addition to having take-home "wedding" cake slices), also featured several artifacts from their relationship provided by the Chemung County Historical Society, including a shoe that Livy owned, their marriage certificate, a tea cup and saucer from the Langdon family china, and stenograph cards of the Langdon home:

So they were married, had four children, and the rest is history. As is the fact that Twain had this additional, sometimes overlooked dimension that I'll remember from here on out.

Happy Valentine's Day!