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MARK TWAIN, A BIOGRAPHY



by Albert Bigelow Paine







VOLUME I, Part 1: 1835-1866











                               MARK TWAIN

                              A BIOGRAPHY

                   THE PERSONAL AND LITERARY LIFE OF

                        SAMUEL LANGHORNE CLEMENS

                                   BY

                          ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE











                                   TO

                      CLARA CLEMENS GABRILOWITSCH

                        WHO STEADILY UPHELD THE

                       AUTHOR'S PURPOSE TO WRITE

                     HISTORY RATHER THAN EULOGY AS

                     THE STORY OF HER FATHER'S LIFE













                           AN ACKNOWLEDGMENT



Dear William Dean Howells, Joseph Hopkins Twichell, Joseph T.  Goodman,

and other old friends of Mark Twain:



I cannot let these volumes go to press without some grateful word to you

who have helped me during the six years and more that have gone to their

making.



First, I want to confess how I have envied you your association with Mark

Twain in those days when you and he "went gipsying, a long time ago."

Next, I want to express my wonder at your willingness to give me so

unstintedly from your precious letters and memories, when it is in the

nature of man to hoard such treasures, for himself and for those who

follow him.  And, lastly, I want to tell you that I do not envy you so

much, any more, for in these chapters, one after another, through your

grace, I have gone gipsying with you all.  Neither do I wonder now, for I

have come to know that out of your love for him grew that greater

unselfishness (or divine selfishness, as he himself might have termed

it), and that nothing short of the fullest you could do for his memory

would have contented your hearts.



My gratitude is measureless; and it is world-wide, for there is no land

so distant that it does not contain some one who has eagerly contributed

to the story.  Only, I seem so poorly able to put my thanks into words.



Albert Bigelow Paine.













                             PREFATORY NOTE



Certain happenings as recorded in this work will be found to differ

materially from the same incidents and episodes as set down in the

writings of Mr. Clemens himself.  Mark Twain's spirit was built of the

very fabric of truth, so far as moral intent was concerned, but in his

earlier autobiographical writings--and most of his earlier writings were

autobiographical--he made no real pretense to accuracy of time, place, or

circumstance--seeking, as he said, "only to tell a good story"--while in

later years an ever-vivid imagination and a capricious memory made

history difficult, even when, as in his so-called "Autobiography," his

effort was in the direction of fact.



"When I was younger I could remember anything, whether it happened or

not," he once said, quaintly, "but I am getting old, and soon I shall

remember only the latter."



The reader may be assured, where discrepancies occur, that the writer of

this memoir has obtained his data from direct and positive sources:

letters, diaries, accountbooks, or other immediate memoranda; also from

the concurring testimony of eye-witnesses, supported by a unity of

circumstance and conditions, and not from hearsay or vagrant printed

items.











                               MARK TWAIN



                              A BIOGRAPHY





I



ANCESTORS



On page 492 of the old volume of Suetonius, which Mark Twain read until

his very last day, there is a reference to one Flavius Clemens, a man of

wide repute "for his want of energy," and in a marginal note he has

written:



"I guess this is where our line starts."



It was like him to write that.  It spoke in his whimsical fashion the

attitude of humility, the ready acknowledgment of shortcoming, which was

his chief characteristic and made him lovable--in his personality and in

his work.



Historically, we need not accept this identity of the Clemens ancestry.

The name itself has a kindly meaning, and was not an uncommon one in

Rome.  There was an early pope by that name, and it appears now and again

in the annals of the Middle Ages.  More lately there was a Gregory

Clemens, an English landowner who became a member of Parliament under

Cromwell and signed the death-warrant of Charles I.  Afterward he was

tried as a regicide, his estates were confiscated, and his head was

exposed on a pole on the top of Westminster Hall.



Tradition says that the family of Gregory Clemens did not remain in

England, but emigrated to Virginia (or New Jersey), and from them, in

direct line, descended the Virginia Clemenses, including John Marshall

Clemens, the father of Mark Twain.  Perhaps the line could be traced, and

its various steps identified, but, after all, an ancestor more or less

need not matter when it is the story of a descendant that is to be

written.



Of Mark Twain's immediate forebears, however, there is something to be

said.  His paternal grandfather, whose name also was Samuel, was a man of

culture and literary taste.  In 1797 he married a Virginia girl, Pamela

Goggin; and of their five children John Marshall Clemens, born August 11,

1798, was the eldest--becoming male head of the family at the age of

seven, when his father was accidentally killed at a house-raising.  The

family was not a poor one, but the boy grew up with a taste for work.  As

a youth he became a clerk in an iron manufactory, at Lynchburg, and

doubtless studied at night.  At all events, he acquired an education, but

injured his health in the mean time, and somewhat later, with his mother

and the younger children, removed to Adair County, Kentucky, where the

widow presently married a sweetheart of her girlhood, one Simon Hancock,

a good man.  In due course, John Clemens was sent to Columbia, the

countyseat, to study law.  When the living heirs became of age he

administered his father's estate, receiving as his own share three negro

slaves; also a mahogany sideboard, which remains among the Clemens

effects to this day.



This was in 1821.  John Clemens was now a young man of twenty-three,

never very robust, but with a good profession, plenty of resolution, and

a heart full of hope and dreams.  Sober, industrious, and unswervingly

upright, it seemed certain that he must make his mark.  That he was

likely to be somewhat too optimistic, even visionary, was not then

regarded as a misfortune.



It was two years later that he met Jane Lampton; whose mother was a Casey

--a Montgomery-Casey whose father was of the Lamptons (Lambtons) of

Durham, England, and who on her own account was reputed to be the

handsomest girl and the wittiest, as well as the best dancer, in all

Kentucky.  The Montgomeries and the Caseys of Kentucky had been Indian

fighters in the Daniel Boone period, and grandmother Casey, who had been

Jane Montgomery, had worn moccasins in her girlhood, and once saved her

life by jumping a fence and out-running a redskin pursuer.  The

Montgomery and Casey annals were full of blood-curdling adventures, and

there is to-day a Casey County next to Adair, with a Montgomery County

somewhat farther east.  As for the Lamptons, there is an earldom in the

English family, and there were claimants even then in the American

branch.  All these things were worth while in Kentucky, but it was rare

Jane Lampton herself--gay, buoyant, celebrated for her beauty and her

grace; able to dance all night, and all day too, for that matter--that

won the heart of John Marshall Clemens, swept him off his feet almost at

the moment of their meeting.  Many of the characteristics that made Mark

Twain famous were inherited from his mother.  His sense of humor, his

prompt, quaintly spoken philosophy, these were distinctly her

contribution to his fame.  Speaking of her in a later day, he once said:



"She had a sort of ability which is rare in man and hardly existent in

woman--the ability to say a humorous thing with the perfect air of not

knowing it to be humorous."



She bequeathed him this, without doubt; also her delicate complexion; her

wonderful wealth of hair; her small, shapely hands and feet, and the

pleasant drawling speech which gave her wit, and his, a serene and

perfect setting.



It was a one-sided love affair, the brief courtship of Jane Lampton and

John Marshall Clemens.  All her life, Jane Clemens honored her husband,

and while he lived served him loyally; but the choice of her heart had

been a young physician of Lexington with whom she had quarreled, and her

prompt engagement with John Clemens was a matter of temper rather than

tenderness.  She stipulated that the wedding take place at once, and on

May 6, 1823, they were married.  She was then twenty; her husband twenty-

five.  More than sixty years later, when John Clemens had long been dead,

she took a railway journey to a city where there was an Old Settlers'

Convention, because among the names of those attending she had noticed

the name of the lover of her youth.  She meant to humble herself to him

and ask forgiveness after all the years.  She arrived too late; the

convention was over, and he was gone.  Mark Twain once spoke of this, and

added:



"It is as pathetic a romance as any that has crossed the field of my

personal experience in a long lifetime."









II



THE FORTUNES OF JOHN AND JANE CLEMENS



With all his ability and industry, and with the-best of intentions, John

Clemens would seem to have had an unerring faculty for making busines...
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