15. Confrontation
AT THE OUTSET OF his reunion with Jean, Sam was deeply impressed by her energy, pace, and strength, all of which contrasted with the “sick” image cultivated so assiduously by his former secretary. “Not a single symptom of her cruel malady has ever shown itself,” he said proudly. His judgment of her health and fitness to rejoin him continued, however, to be grounded in a symptom-free standard. He never fully understood how this standard had contributed to Jean's exile. What he did comprehend was that his youngest daughter was a delight and that that “reptile Lyon” had been mistress of his house while Jean was “barred out ofit.”[1]
At the end of May, Sam encountered a fact so unsettling that he waffled about its accuracy. Most likely through tete-a-tetes with Jean, he discovered that his youngest daughter had been healthy enough to return home for two years—even by his own criteria. Jean had experienced few grand mal seizures since April 1907, and only three since her return from Germany in January 1909. He quickly backed away from this discovery. Finding it difficult to admit the enormity of his failure as a father, he returned to counting her exile in months rather than years in his autobiographical writing. Only sporadically could he bring himself to face the actual length of his daughter's banishment and with it the extent of his own complicity.[2]
Ashcroft had predicted that, surrounded by his children, Clemens would spend the rest of his days “in an atmosphere of artificiality, restraint and self-sacrifice.”[3] Nothing could have been further from the truth. The athletic Jean delighted in her farm. And both father and
In early June, while the independent audit was in full swing, the Ashcrofts left Connecticut. In a letter written to Clemens on June 3, Ashcroft indicated that the couple would sail for England “in a few days to be gone about four weeks.” Suspecting that their intention was to flee prosecution, one of Twain's lawyers, an associate of John Stanchfield named Charles Lark, asked Ashcroft to remain in the United States until the independent audit was finished. “[H]e had not engaged passage,” Ashcroft told Lark on the telephone, “and had no idea whatever as to when he would sail.” But Ashcroft and his wife boarded an obscure steamer bound for Holland on June 8.[4] Their deception created an especially dramatic impression of guilt and fear for Twain's lawyers.
Almost immediately, the lawyers retaliated by suggesting that their client attach Mrs. Ashcroft's Connecticut cottage to recover the money she had stolen for its renovation. Twain acquiesced, unprepared for the media circus that this action would trigger. The local sheriff conveyed the news to the papers, according to Twain, and it was cabled straight to London, where Ashcroft had chummy relations with reporters based on his earlier trip to Oxford with Twain. The Ashcrofts were jumped upon by the press as soon as they arrived in London, and, as Twain quipped, “the cable began to twang.” And the telephone to ring. Alone in the house, Jean answered the phone and talked to a reporter, breaking a longstanding rule of the Clemens household. She guilelessly told the reporter that Lyon had stolen her father's money to renovate her farmhouse.[5]
Mrs. Ashcroft vowed to newspaper audiences around the world, in response to Jean's interview, that she would return immediately to vindicate herself. She declared her intention to clear all the false charges lodged against her by Miss Clemens. “[S]he must know,” both Ashcrofts asserted, “that every step taken in the restoration of the farmhouse in Connecticut was with her father's knowledge and approval.” Citing the loan of $1,000 signed by Mr. Ashcroft, the couple claimed that there had been “no request made by Mark Twain for repayment of any money spent,” which was technically true, followed by a lie, “while Miss Lyon
Mrs. Ashcroft had just put an ocean between herself and Twain. Why return to America alone? What was the urgency?[7] Did she still think she could worm her way into Twain's good graces? She was coming back to vindicate herself, she said, and clear her name. A melodrama of reconciliation seems to have been playing in her head. Stepping onto the docks of New York on July 13, she was greeted by a bevy of reporters whom she was glad to oblige with an interview.[8] “Mr. Clemens is one of the most lovable of men,” she crooned, “and no one has known him better than I.” “I am confident,” she revealed, “that this reported action on his part was not made voluntarily.” There it is—the reason for her precipitous return. Clemens had not turned against her, she believed, but was forced against his will to take legal action by his daughter. But the newspapers offered different opinions about which daughter to blame: Jean or Clara.[9]
All the newspaper accounts agreed, however, that Mrs. Ashcroft intended to make haste to Redding and beard her lovable ex-boss in his den, clearing up their misunderstanding in the process. She, as usual, exhibited a talent for revisionist history. “Questioned as to whether she was financially indebted to Mr. Clemens,” one newspaper reported, “Mrs. Ashcroft replied that at the time he gave her the house he had also advanced her $4,000 to rehabilitate it.” Less than a year before, when she was practically able to convince him that black was white, this readjustment of the truth would not have been a serious problem. But in July 1909, Clemens had awakened fully from his sleepwalk. He had lent her $1,500 last Christmas, he reiterated privately, after she had already spent $2,000 on unreported renovations, a sum that was documented by the contractor himself.[10]
One part of her interview with the newspapers was accurate. She returned to her Redding cottage the next day accompanied by her mother. But she remained inside, seeking no contact with Clemens or his family. Still taking her at her word, Clemens summoned his lawyer to Stormfield, hoping they could arrange a settlement on the spot. For two days Clemens and Lark waited—and nothing happened. Finally, Mr. Lark suggested their side take the initiative, go to her cottage, and open negotiations. Of course, he would need a witness. But who?
After Jean was restored to her family, only a novelist would have imagined a face-to-face meeting between the exile and her nemesis. But occasionally, life imitates art. And in this case, a firsthand account of the event was recorded by one of the chief protagonists. At the bidding of her father, Jean agreed to make a call on Isabel Ashcroft, accompanied by Mr. Lark. “[T]ake sharp note of everything,” her father admonished her, “for you might have to go into court some day as a witness.”[12] At his bidding, she wrote a twenty-four-page narrative of her experience.
On Saturday, July 17, Jean and Mr. Lark drove down to Mrs. Ashcroft's cottage. Mrs. Ashcroft's mother, Mrs. Lyon, met Jean and Lark at the door around 11:00 A.M. and told them that her daughter was too ill to see them. Lark asked Mrs. Lyon to telephone him at Stormfield if her daughter was able to receive them later. The telephone rang almost as soon as they walked in the door at Stormfield, with the news that Mrs. Ashcroft would see Mr. Lark between 2:00 and 2:30 P.M. She requested an audience alone, which he refused, explaining that he had to have a witness in attendance.[13]
After lunch, Jean and Lark again drove down to the cottage. They were admitted by Mrs. Lyon, who was dressed as if in mourning. Before Jean was fully seated, Mrs. Ashcroft entered the room, clothed in white, with no ornamentation except her rings. Deliberately avoiding eye contact with Jean, she stared at Mr. Lark while bowing slightly during her entrance. Jean acknowledged her by quietly pronouncing her name. With Jean and Lark already seated on the sofa, Mrs. Lyon took the large armchair nearest the lawyer, and her daughter sat in a small chair nearest Jean. Thus Jean was positioned between Mr. Lark and Mrs. Ashcroft.[14]
Their seating launched an awkward silence, finally interrupted by Mr. Lark. The newspapers had reported Mrs. Ashcroft's return and her
At first Mrs. Ashcroft denied knowledge of any possible reason for the attachment on her house. She argued that she had not been allowed to see the checkbooks and had not been given the chance to make a statement based upon examination of her financial records. Lark responded that she and her husband had in fact made a “statement of the cost of putting her house in order” that was “absolutely incorrect.” She countered that if she could have access to the bills, she could prove that her cost estimates were correct. Lark then shifted ground. Who had done most of the work on her house, he asked? The only people who had worked on both houses were Lounsbury, Adams, the carpenter, and Hull, the plumber, she replied, and their work had amounted to very little. “It was Hull's bill of over $400,” Lark reminded her, “which she had put down as work done at ‘Stormfield.’”[16]
Jean observed that Mrs. Ashcroft gave Lark “a long pathetic, absolutely unwinking gaze” meant to melt an iceberg. But Lark did not thaw. “She was very sorry,” she said wearily, “if she had done wrong.” Soon rallying for another round, she insisted that Clemens gave her permission to use his money for her own house repairs. Lark replied that she had drawn checks as far back as the summer of 1907 and that Clemens had not authorized use of his funds until the summer of 1908. After several attacks and parries, Lark put Clemens's offer on the table. If she would deed back the property, and repay the $1,500 mortgage she had just drawn on the cottage, Clemens would drop his lawsuit. Lark then added an incentive. A huge amount of house money—$4,000 cash was Lark's figure—had been drawn for which there was no explanation. Clemens would overlook that disparity if she would deed him back her cottage and leave the neighborhood.[17]
The detailed account of the costs of renovating Lyons cottage that Lounsbury had kept in his little memorandum book may have been the sharpest thorn in her side, but the auditors had located another patch of bramble. They found that she had racked up over $5,500 in house money charges for a two-year period ending in February 1909.[18] Although Clemens was certain that his household “never needed more than $300 or $400 cash in a year,” he woefully underestimated the cash demands of his domestic circle. Paine, a more practical man with a clearer grasp of the debit and credit line, roughly estimated that $1,500 was necessary to meet those demands. If one accepts Paine's estimate of legitimate expenses, simple arithmetic suggests that $2,500 in cash withdrawals made by Lyon are suspect. Larger figures were cited by Lark and Clemens, but this smaller amount seems to be the most responsible estimate. In fact there is no way to prove that any of the house money was stolen.[19] But Lark's suggestion that she filched some portion of the cash withdrawals charged to house money seems all but certain.
Mrs. Ashcroft was resistant. She claimed she bought most of the furnishings for Mr. Clemens's new house with cash, a feeble defense that was easily discredited.[20] She never had a large bank account, she offered next as proof of her innocence. Lark was unpersuaded.
‘Did you support your mother during part of 1907 and 1908?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she answered, ‘beginning in the winter of 1907.’
‘Do you realize that Mrs. Lyons board would use up the greater part of your salary?’ he pressed. Mother and daughter both protested that Mrs. Lyons board was never more than $8.50 per week.
‘That leaves Miss Lyon fifteen dollars to dress on,’ the lawyer replied pointedly.
‘Mr. Clemens gave me permission to buy clothing,’ she countered, ‘because I several times declined a higher salary.’
“I told Mr. Lark,” Jean interjected for the first time, “that that permission had not been given in New York but here, last winter.”
Lark circled back to the settlement offer, emphasizing that Clemens was being more than generous under the circumstances. Mr. Clemens would be taking her to court if she were a man, Lark reminded her; he was willing to settle out of court only because she was a woman.[21]
The lawyer then supplemented his presentation with a dose of intimidation. Clemens was growing impatient and angry. Since Mrs.
Ashcroft “felt unwilling to accept the proposition now made,” Lark threatened, a “complaint had been made out by the Grand Juror of the district and would be handed in. When she didn't understand what that meant,” Jean continued, “he explained that the complaint would be given to the prosecuting attorney of this county.”[22] Mrs. Ashcroft remained calm or at least, as Jean noted, “controlled herself admirably.” Mrs. Lyon asked if they intended to include furniture in the settlement. Lark responded negatively—only land, barn, and cottage.
“Mrs. Ashcroft said she couldrit give up her home,” Jean had already noted, “that she would raise the money to pay everything back with, that she had borrowed from Father with the understanding that she was to pay when she was able to, that she was very sorry, must think a while, first, was unable to do so, must talk it over with her mother, must see her lawyer before deciding.” She also wanted to go to New York to see Stanchfield, Clemens's chief lawyer, whom she knew and had entertained. Lark suggested that she would not be allowed to leave the jurisdiction of the state, alluding once again to possible criminal proceedings.[23]
“I'm very sorry,” she kept muttering, on the verge of surrender.
“You know I wouldn't do such a thing, don't you, Mother?” she asked plaintively, alluding to the charges of embezzlement.
“No dear, of course you wouldn't,” her mother responded.
“Mrs. Lyon,” Lark replied sternly, “you were not a witness on those occasions, the checks are the witnesses of that fact.”[24]
Twice Mrs. Ashcroft repeated that she would raise the money to pay everything back, and finally she told Lark “to do as he chose, that she and her mother ‘had each other’ and were satisfied with that.” Lark said he would return with the deed for her signature on Monday morning and, as he and Jean were leaving, mother and daughter fell weeping into each other's arms.[25]
But the drama for the day was not yet over. Lark discovered that a deed could be obtained from the notary on the spot. So he hurried back to Summerfield with Nickerson, the notary, who read the deed aloud to Mrs. Ashcroft in the back parlor while Jean and Lark sat in the front parlor with Mrs. Lyon, who had her back to them all the while.
After the reading was finished, Mrs. Ashcroft signed the deed back to Clemens and drafted the mortgage check, albeit with a great deal of nervousness and some confusion as to the date and the correct procedure. Nickerson then handed her the dollar bill “necessary to make such a
Tearfully pointing out that they had no place to go, Mrs. Lyon asked if they could stay until September 15. Lark agreed, but after he stepped outside, Jean objected to the nearly two-month grace period and suggested that September i was sufficient time. Lark stepped back inside and informed them that they had six weeks to vacate the premises. Mrs. Lyon telephoned soon after they reached Stormfield and asked Lark if they had to “live in daily dread of further trouble.” Lark responded carefully that he thought Clemens would bring no other suit against them, but that the final decision was his client's alone.[27]
Lark's skillful manipulation was probably all in a day's work. Jean, however, was in a unique position. Her witnessing of Mrs. Ashcroft's humiliation was a special sort of dispensation. She did not seek revenge, but it had been given her, if not by the gods then by her father's lawyer. Her job was to observe the woman who had kept her away from her father for three years. What was Jean thinking and feeling? She reveals little, interjecting only one comment in the conversation itself. Her mode of reportage is dispassionate, with an emphasis on description and externally observable behaviors. Only in denying Mrs. Lyons request to remain until September 15 was there a telltale hint of hostility.
Her father revealed some of the complications in her private attitude when he remarked that she “despised” Miss Lyon, but did not hate her.[28] This would fit Jean's character: an essentially fair-minded person who was sensitive to misfortune. Jean had suffered greatly from her disease, and her heart was tender toward the pain of others—even an antagonist.
Twain's reaction is also telling. Writing the next day, he described Miss Lyon as being “stretched upon the rack.” “God will punish Paine. I know it,” he told Clara. “Because he is so intemperately glad over yesterday's tragedy.” While Paine was gloating, Clemens felt pity for his lady-in-waiting and called the incident a “tragedy.”[29] Whatever it was, the episode outdid the most improbable fiction.