Despite Jean’s best efforts to follow the regime, she continued to have seizures. After a difficult day on December 8, 1906, when she awakened feeling ill but decided against sending for her doctor only to suffer a grand mal seizure at eight-thirty (she would not be fully conscious until nine o’clock), doctors began to consider a much more radical course of treatment. Sadly, Jean blamed herself for the severity of the attack, attributing it to “my own stubbornness and unwillingness to send for Dr. Sharp. He might have warded it off again, but there is no use in discussing the possibilities, now. The deed is at present in the past and I can only hope to control myself more sensibly in the future.” While Jean had been dosed with bromides for years, the next day Dr. Hunt spoke with her about trying “a certain kind of hyperdermic.” Dr. Sharp, Hillbourne’s director, was convinced that Jean’s epilepsy was the result of poor circulation, and he thought his “hyperdermic” might prove successful. He did, however, want to hear back from Dr. Peterson first on the subject. Dr. Peterson must have answered affirmatively to Dr. Sharp’s inquiry because on December 16 Jean had her first treatment.
I dreamed last night of Dr. Sharp and of his being in my room & attending to me. As soon as I sat up to eat my breakfast I began to have many and long absent-minded turns, so that as soon as Anna returned from her own breakfast I sent her to get Dr. Sharp. It was then about eight o’clock & by half past eight he gave me my first hyperdermic in my shoulder. He froze the shoulder first, but it was fearfully painful & ached all day long. In the course of the day I had three injections and at one time—last in the afternoon—both the doctor & I thought the danger was over, but that proved to be a mistake, because just after I had finished my supper—in bed—I had the attack. … It was a distressing and monotonous day.
Jean was no better the next day, receiving an injection in her leg early in the morning and another at eleven o’clock: “a pretty violent injection in my hip which made me jump.” Despite her discomfort, Jean was grateful that at least she “didn’t have to have the soap & water injection to move the bowels that had been given me yesterday.” The painful treatments failed to produce a cure.
In January 1907, after having been gone from 21 Fifth Avenue for nearly three months, Jean made a startlingly candid assessment of her family’s mind-set concerning her absence and her feelings toward them:
I had often felt that it would be a relief to the family to have me out of the way, because I often caused trouble by being unmanageable when I was ill, etc. I laid no blame on Father or Mother and I said quite recently I had begun to have the above feeling less because of his & Clara’s sweetness that is true, but still, while I know that neither one of them would admit being glad to have me away & therefore relieved of the presence of an ill person, I am sure that they must feel so. That is in no way against them, it is only absolutely human. I don’t for a minute believe that I was sent out here for any such reason, but since it is better for me to be here it at the same time must be a relief to them. Also the idea that they miss me is absurd! Clara’s interests are too absolutely different for us to be necessary to one another even if we are fond of each other & Father can’t possibly find any entertainment or interest in me. I am sure he is fond of me but I don’t believe that he any more than Clara, really misses me. It seems a heartless thing to say, but now that I am accustomed to this place, I don’t really miss either of them. I far more often feel a desire to see Father, than I do to see Clara, which is only right & natural. I do often have a sort of hunger to get hold of him & hug him, but if I were to say I missed him or Clara steadily I should be lying. I love both of them devotedly, but my love seems to be of a curiously passive sort. When I am with people that I am fond of, I grow more & more so, but when I leave then I often go days without even thinking of them!
By this point, Jean was having “two or three petits mals per day.” Rebelling against all the restrictions she was supposed to follow, she defiantly ordered three pounds of triple vanilla chocolate from Mail-lard’s chocolate shop in New York City, followed by a second order for five pounds ten days later. Further aggravating her, patients were only allowed to eat in pairs, because doctors believed that an increase of the number of diners might cause nervousness and excitability that would negatively affect their health. Jean objected to what she regarded as a specious rule, because she wanted to eat with two of her fellow patients, women with whom she had become friendly, but in the end Dr. Sharp overruled her.
On another occasion, Dr. Sharp demanded that Jean’s maid accompany her when she left the grounds to play squash at a local club, despite her being part of a larger group where there were other women present. Mercifully for her, her doctors were convinced that physical activity and movement would have a beneficial effect on her illness, and it was recommended that she engage in up to five hours of exercise per day. Thirty-two kinds of exercise were available, including lawn tennis, medicine ball, croquet, tetherball, and riding. Patients could go boating and canoeing at a reservoir within walking distance. A fierce competitor, Jean did not take losing well. On one occasion while playing squash, she struck her male opponent with her racket after he had won a play: “Of course, the minute I had done it, I realized what a disgusting thing I had done and apologized.”
In winter, Jean was allowed to ski, skate, toboggan, and sled. In search of additional activity, she asked her father to have her beloved horse, Scott, sent to her. To her joy, Scott soon appeared, and because she was no longer allowed to ride horseback, Twain purchased a carriage for her to ride in. Jean had her driver, George O’Connor, regularly take her around the countryside on carriage rides. Her dream was that someday her disease might be either cured or stabilized so that she could live independently. She also wanted to earn her own living in order not to have to rely upon her father for financial support. To that end, Hillbourne boasted impressive facilities for leatherwork, metalwork, wood carving, basket weaving, rug and tapestry weaving, pottery and clay modeling, printing, bookbinding, and stained-glass work. The good doctors of Hillbourne Farms sanctioned Jean’s continuing her wood carving, and on January 30, 1907, she was thrilled to receive a letter congratulating her on becoming “a professional member of the National Society of Craftsmen!”
8
Although Isabel had certainly gained a measure of relief at no longer having to be Jean’s primary caregiver, she still had Charlotte Teller Johnson to fret over, and her terrible anxiety about establishing a permanent place in Twain’s life was heightened by Twain’s continuing attachment to Charlotte.
Twain and Charlotte had maintained their correspondence over the summer of 1906, and he had become an ardent advocate of her writing. In June he wrote Clara a “special letter,” urging her to accept Charlotte’s forthcoming invitation to dinner, even though he openly acknowledged his daughter’s dislike for Charlotte. Twain was convinced that Charlotte was a great talent, and even the reluctant Isabel regarded her play Mirabeau as a “prodigious piece of work and a remarkable one.” But by the end of June, Isabel had convinced herself that Charlotte was endangering Twain’s health: “He is often animated by a devastating something in these days—a Something destroying his peace of mind—The drama of life I suppose it is—Charlotte Teller.”
In July Twain journeyed to the city to meet with Joseph Sears, the president and manager of Appleton and Company, a New York publishing firm. Twain apparently persuaded Sears to publish Charlotte’s book manuscript The Cage, and on July 10 he gleefully wrote Isabel, telling her that the evening before he had made Charlotte “one of the happiest persons in America” when he informed her that Sears would publish her novel and that the serial rights would be sold to the magazine that made the best offer. Isabel expressed her feelings about Charlotte’s publishing triumph in her journal shortly after receiving Twain’s news. Her entry is rife with references to Charlotte, describing her rival’s manipulation and control over Twain.
It is only by means of fertilization that any best in us can be brought to
full flower & fruit; & unlike the growing plants we can partake of the fertilization of many minds—Utterly under the power of one mind or personality, we can be drawn away from it by a counter force of mind or personality, & our malleability is wonderful & beautiful: Being drawn away from one influence does not mean that we are dead to that influence; if we are, in a measure, balanced, it must mean the better perceptions of the power & benefit of that influence. & the preparation within us to receive even greater good from it.
When Isabel returned to New York in October, she believed the time had come for her to use her “counter force of mind” and wield her influence to draw Twain away from Charlotte. Thanks to Albert Bigelow Paine and his propensity to gossip, she would have the perfect opportunity. Just four days after she, Twain, and Jean had moved back to the city, on October 22, a Miss Doty from Number 3 Fifth Avenue (Charlotte’s address) came to call. Miss Doty was greatly displeased when Twain declined her visit and refused to grant her permission to publish the stories that he told when he had dined at Number 3. After Miss Doty’s huffy departure, Isabel informed Twain that Paine had told her rumors were circulating about his relationship with Charlotte. Twain immediately sent for his comely neighbor, whereupon he “repeated the gossip to the one gossiped about.” Charlotte demanded to know who had told him. Twain sent for Isabel, who confirmed that a member of the Players Club had asked Paine about Twain’s relationship with her. Although Charlotte tried to dismiss the incident as idle chatter, Twain was alarmed that propriety had been breached and asked Charlotte if she would be willing to move away from Fifth Avenue, a rather melodramatic response considering that he already had a single woman living in his home.
Charlotte, outraged by Twain’s request, abruptly declined. The next day Isabel rejected Charlotte’s request to come to Number 3 to speak privately with her. On October 24, Charlotte visited Twain again to discuss the matter, and Isabel “gave what I dared” (details of the gossip) to the enraged Charlotte. Later that same day, Charlotte sent Twain a message telling him that she had contacted Sears and asked him not to print Twain’s foreword to The Cage.
In the spring of 1907, Charlotte again demanded a meeting with Twain and Isabel; Twain ordered Isabel to see what she wanted. Isabel did as requested and went to Number 3 Fifth Avenue. An angry Charlotte told Isabel that Miss Doty had informed her that Isabel had said Charlotte was “an adventurer & planning to marry Mr. Clemens.” Isabel’s reaction to this news was to laugh “with relief & amusement over the impossibility of such a thing.” A “grey and savage-looking” Charlotte was furious at Isabel’s reaction, and when Isabel turned to leave she swore: “I’ll get even with you for this!” Clearly Isabel proved the willing messenger for Paine’s gossip, likely thinking that it could be used for her advantage, but then, the messenger’s fate is often one that is unenviable.
Twain and Charlotte’s relationship was finished. Charlotte never saw Twain again, although she made a few attempts to reconnect with him, on one occasion asking if he would speak at a benefit, an invitation he refused. Nearly two decades later, in the foreword to a privately printed volume containing Twain’s personal correspondence with her, Charlotte disingenuously claimed that she had had no idea that Twain had met with Joseph Sears, and she vehemently denied charges of opportunism in the very edition of letters intended to parlay her correspondence with Twain into profit.
Twain’s response to the ending of his relationship with Charlotte and seeing his weeping daughter leave home was to escape. He began planning a trip to Egypt with his old friend Leigh Hunt. Isabel was “stunned” by Twain’s announcement and confided to her journal, “I am desolated.” Hunt told Twain he could take anyone he wanted with him, and he chose Ralph W. Ashcroft, the treasurer of the Plasmon Company of America, and Joseph Twichell. Isabel would have to remain in New York “at this base of action.” A few days later Twain suffered a sudden bout of bronchitis, and an enormously relieved Isabel was “so glad—So selfishly glad” that Twain had to cancel his trip. Instead of sailing down the Nile, Twain contented himself playing billiards with Paine on his new Brunswick-Balke-Collender Company “Warwick” model billiard table, an early Christmas present from Henry Rogers. He hosted various dinners, including a “buck dinner” in early November for Thomas Bailey Aldrich, William Dean Howells, Andrew Carnegie, and Colonel Harvey, and listened to Isabel play the Aeolian.
The cumulative emotional toll of the previous six months finally caught up with an exhausted Isabel, and she departed for Hartford on November 24 for a two-week rest cure. She returned on December 10 to an empty house, as Twain had left for Washington, D.C., with Paine in tow, dressed in white sartorial splendor, to lobby for a new copyright law. He explained to Jean that the trip was all for her and Clara’s sakes because of his concern about their future income. On December 12, Twain returned to New York, and an emotional Isabel declared in her daily reminder that while he could go away from her, she would “not go away from him again unless he sends me.”
9
Over the winter, Twain had been lobbied by Paine to include him in his estate planning. The various changes Twain made in response to Paine were guaranteed to inflame all parties. A copy of a document authorized by Twain, dated December 10, 1906, states his expressed desire that the autobiography be edited and prepared for publication by Paine and, most strikingly, appointing him as the official “Editor and Executor of my literary remains, it being understood such executorship shall not interfere with the collection & publication of a volume of my letters by my daughter, Clara, and Isabel V. Lyon, the said Isabel V. Lyon to have ten percent of the royalty returns of such book.” While this document was certain to overjoy Paine and to reassure Isabel, it was highly unlikely to please Clara. Not entirely coincidentally, just three days after this document was written, Paine moved into 21 Fifth Avenue. Now, in addition to acting as Twain’s real estate agent (conveniently locating him as his neighbor in Redding, Connecticut), Paine could ostensibly assist Isabel in caring for Twain and act as his live-in billiards partner. Of course, Paine’s decision to move out of the home he shared with his wife and three daughters had more to do with ensuring his own financial future than with any altruistic motives, and Mrs. Paine was openly displeased about her husband’s new living arrangements.
Four days before Christmas, Twain announced his latest plan for an adventure to Isabel, and it proved to be the perfect present. The two would sail to Bermuda in January and take Twichell with them. This proposed vacation surely displeased Paine, who wanted to keep his quarry within easy reach. An elated Isabel and Twain spent a cozy Christmas together. Jean was in residence at Katonah and, after a quick visit that morning, Clara chose to spend the day with the Gilders. On Christmas Day, Twain confided to Isabel that he had asked his lawyer, Samuel M. Gardenhire, to draw up the papers making Paine his literary executor. Isabel, perhaps sensing that Paine’s reach was extending too far into her territory, delicately demurred, contending “that isn’t the place for AB. & C.C. would not wish him to occupy it—so he will be surprised to learn of an annulment of that situation.” In taking sides Isabel created an in-house enemy, and Paine would not forget or forgive what she had done. The next day Gardenhire arrived to make the change. John Larkin, Twain’s New York attorney, later arrived to finalize Twain’s will, which gave Clara “full authority over all literary remains.” Any role Jean might have played in her father’s literary estate had been forgotten. Isabel was convinced she had made the right move: “Oh King—you are so wonderful, as you sit in bed leaning on one elbow, & reading the new clause of your will—the clause making C.C. library executrix.” The deed was done.
On the morning of January 2, after a flurry of packing, the three travelers set sail on the Bermudian. Isabel found the slower pace on board ship most appealing. To occupy himself, Twain had taken portions of his autobiography to edit. In an extended conversation with Isabel on their first full day at sea, he explained his idea of publishing excerpts from the autobiography in f
uture editions of his older works in order to preserve his copyright on them. By this time, Twain’s daily stint of autobiography dictations had dramatically decreased and his ebbing recollections had begun to be replaced by commentary about contemporaneous news items; by the spring of 1907, he would be describing the parties he had recently attended. The dictations would continue until 1909; however, 1907 was a watershed year, with Twain recognizing in a March autobiography dictation that he had “completed the only work that was remaining for me to do in this life and that I could not possibly afford to leave uncompleted—my Autobiography. Although that is not finished, and will not be finished until I die, the object which I had in view in compiling it is accomplished: that object was to distribute it through my existing books and give each of them a new copyright life of twenty-eight years.” Isabel’s appropriate reaction was to call Twain’s plan a “scheme” and regret that he had shared it with reporters. She apparently found Twain’s monetary interest base and believed it sullied his art.
Rev. Joseph Twichell and Mark Twain posing for Isabel Lyon en route to Bermuda, on the Bermudian’s deck, January 2, 1907
On board the ship to Bermuda, this bracing talk of posthumous profit whetted Twain’s appetite, and on their last day at sea he enjoyed a hearty luncheon of “baked beans & bacon & cabbage & milk,” that left him with awful indigestion. For Isabel the voyage was actually a return trip to Hamilton, Bermuda, a place she had visited for the first time eighteen years earlier with the Claghorne family when she was governess to their daughter Juliet. The Bermuda idyll was brief, just four days long, but it proved rejuvenating for both Twain and Isabel. The natural beauty of the island was soothing and Isabel delightedly attended to Twain’s every wish, unencumbered by hordes of strangers seeking access to him or by the demands of his two daughters. Twain contented himself by complaining about various friends and expressing his impatience with Twichell’s deafness. As for the insightful Twichell, Twain’s close friend for decades and the minister who had officiated at his wedding to Olivia, he took advantage of the opportunity during a walk with Isabel to give her some subtle advice. Twichell felt that Isabel did far too much for Twain, he told her, saying that made him “lazy.” He described the profound effect Olivia had had on “remodeling” his friend over the course of their marriage.
Mark Twain's Other Woman Page 15
