TWENTY-ONE LETTERS OF AMBROSE BIERCE <5ortttU Utttnemtg ffitbtarg itiftua, New !nrft BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1891 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924021986033 This edition is limited to 50 copies on Japan Vellum and 950 copies on An- tique Paper. Of the edition on Antique Paper this is No. %!> <^ *f Twenty-one Letters of Ambrose Bierce Edited with a Note by SAMUEL LOVEMAN GEORGE KIRK Cleveland 1922 s« _1& COPYRIGHT GEORGE KIRK 1922 A NOTE INE years mark the disappearance of Ambrose Bierce and yet a biography or critical essay in appreciation of the poet, satirist, adventurer, journalist and supreme story-teller, still remains to be written. In the mean- time, Herman Melville, touted with Poe and Whitman as jone of the three distinct landmarks in American literature, seems to have achieved hectic permanence. The past half-dozen years have seen the decline and fall of O. Henry. Edgar Saltus, a man of genius with the limitation of his environment and a public that has seen fit to sniff over "Imperial Purple" and utterly ignore "The Imperial Orgy", is dead for a year and the broth- ers of the rare book alone attest to his limited but safe security. Of Messrs. Hergesheimer and Cabell let us say litde — very little. Pater and Stevenson, with a combination and admixture of Yankee perspicacity, never yet conspired to make two helpless and hopeless souls, men of genius. One chapter in "Jurgen", alone saves the book from altogether chaos. The sleekest of the contes brandished by Mr. Hergesheimer in his much lauded collection, "The Happy End", founders unde- Page three fensibly before the least in Ambrose Bierce. Of pure pity and terror Mr. Hergesheimer knows nothing. In Bierce, the evocation of horror becomes for the- first time, not so much the prescription or perversion of Poe and Maupassant, but an atmosphere definite and uncannily precise. Words, so simple that one would be prone to ascribe them to the limitations of a literary hack, take on an unholy horror, a new and unguessed transformation. In Poe one finds it a tour de force, in Maupassant a nervous engagement of the flagellated climax. To Bierce, simply and sincerely, diabolism held in its tormented depth, a legitimate and reliant means to the end. Yet a tacit confirmation with nature is in every instance insisted upon. In "The Death of Halpin Fraser", flowers, verdure and the boughs and leaves of trees are magnificently placed as an opposing foil to unnatural malignity. Not the accustomed golden world, but a world pervaded with the mystery of blue and the breathless recalcitrance of dreams, is Bierce's. Yet curiously, inhumanity is not altogether absent. Think of the episode of the deaf and dumb derelict at Chickamauga and the altogether lovable little Jo — Dickens done to life but with how much more consummate artistry. Pdge four The following letters written by Bierce to the writer, make a plea for just such literature as can be gathered into the final and authoritative book on the subject. And written eventually, it must be. Mr. Starrett's brief and notable but wholly ineffective brochure on Bierce, is valuable for the inclusion of the three last letters dis- patched by him to his friend in California. The present collection, slight yet unbroken, ends only by Bierce's mysterious departure into what one would consolingly believe may have been the secret but not necessarily tragic finality of South America. "Lies — 's all lies", cried Trelawney concerning the legends, vile and splendid, that even in his lifetime were dinned and perpetuated into his ears. Ambrose Bierce, but for the lonely and immortal austerity that veils him in all eternity from view, may well have uttered the same. And whether one could have wished it thus or other- wise — ■ "the rest is silence". SAMUEL LOVEMAN September 12, 1922. Page five THE LETTERS The Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C. S. Loveman Esqr., Dear Sir, These verses appear to have been sent to me under a misapprehension, and I regret that I can do no more than return them. I have no editorial connection with "The Cosmopolitan", and no influence that I know of with the editor. My regret in returning them is because of their excellence, which I hope may commend them to some one having the power to publish. I recollect a little book of such verses by you — that is, I think they were yours, for the author's name was Loveman.* The book seems to have mislaid itself, but it has left a pleasant memory of true poetry. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. October 17, 1908. * Robert Loveman of Dalton, Georgia. Page seven The Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C. Samuel E. Loveman, Esqr., Dear Sir, I thank you for the privilege of reading the enclosed poems. They are good work, but not, in my judgment, equal to the other that you sent. In Mr. Alden's place I should not have required of you "the modern note". I should not require anything of a poet but poetry. I think you have the "gift", notably, and being so young have more than "a fighting chance" of eventual recognition if you do not suffer yourself to be discour- aged by the disappointments that will surely fall to your lot. I regret that encouragement of a more practical kind than good words is not in my power. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. Nov. 20, 1908. P. S. — The editorial management of "The Cos- mopolitan" having changed, if you care to entrust me again with the "Pierrot" poem I may be able to accom- plish its acceptance. A. B. Page eight The Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C. My dear Mr. Loveman, Fearing that the Pierrot verses might not meet with the editorial favor, I have put them into my own department of the magazine, where I hope they are safe. But I omitted the last, ( 4 ). This I did reluctantly, but, in the first place, they were too long [for] the place that I am supposed to fill with my own work, and, in the second, I did not like to change the order of the poems, and number 4 not being ( in my judgment ) so good as the others it would have been an anticlimax. As there is not much "connection" it does not seem to matter, for when you publish in book form you can, of course, restore the omitted verses. So I hope you'll pardon the liberty. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. Dec. 6, 1908. I don't say that No. 4 is not good — it is : but not good enough to come after No. 3. I hardly know what would be — except No. 1. Page nine The Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C. My dear Mr. Loveman, I did not reply to your letter, because I had hoped to show you your little poem in print first. It is in print — in the proofs returned to me when I left the "Cosmopolitan"! I have now sent it to "Everybody's Magazine". If it returns to me again I shall send it to some other magazine unless you forbid. Thank you for the specimen of "Orestes", which seems to be a pretty ambitious work as you have planned it. You won't mind my saying that I prefer your rhyme to your blank verse ( aside from the matter of subject) — or at least you won't if you know how good I think your rhyme to be. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. May 13, 1909. Page ten The Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C. My dear Mr. Loveman, I have read with interest and pleasure the verses in your letter of May 18th. It occurs to me that if you would make a book of translations of Heine's best shorter poems I might assist you to find a publisher for it — one of my publishers. Our people know little of Heine, and I am told that no satisfactory translation of his lyrics has been published in this country. I think you could do the work admirably if you are good at German, as I assume. I regret to say that "Pierrot" has been inhospitably received at "Everybody's". The editor writes me the confession of stupidity that follows : "I am sorry to disagree with you as to the value of that poem you sent. This may be a cardinal crime, but what can you expect ? (I expected just that.) Any- way, our crowd here does not develop any particular enthusiasm for it." I am sending it to "The Adantic" and shall con- tinue to send it out ( unless you forbid ) if only [to] make editors "put themselves on record". "Pierrot" is an excellent test of one's knowledge of poetry. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. Page eleven The Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman, This is only to say that "The Atlantic" has sent back "Pierrot" with the stereotyped polite note of declination. I shall now send it to "Harper's". If you don't mind I shall keep all the notes of declination that I get ( for my own literary purpose ) but eventually send them to you. I mean to write an article on magazine "poetry" ( and magazine editors, perhaps ) and "Pierrot" will serve admirably as an illustration of what magazine poetry is not. But I'll say nothing to harm your pros- pects of obtaining recognition hereafter. I'm working hard on my "Collected Works", and find no time now for anything else — except a little book on undesirable English,* of which I have just finished reading the proofs. I am more than ever convinced that the translation of Heine's best lyrics is a good project. Anyhow, it will not bite. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. July 27, 1909. * "Write it Right". Page twelve Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman, We have at last an editorial confession that "Pierrot" is poetry. I enclose it. Whether you will care to act on Mr. Alden's sug- gestion and send him something that he can understand I don't know. I think I would. In any case please let me have back his note, as a part of the record in the case of Pierrot vs. the Magazines. I like your notion of so translating Heine as to bring out the poetry first, the wit afterward. The con- trary has usually been done — because it is easier to do, I suppose. If you pass this way on your way to Europe I hope you will let me see you. Don't be repelled by the Englishman's "cold assumption of dignity" — it is bashfulness in disguise. I know the animal from long association with him on his native heath. He's a warm-hearted chap — a senti- mentalist a little ashamed of sentiment. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. August 5, 1909. Page thirteen Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman, I thank you very much for the photograph — which "looks the part" of Poet, all right. A severe illness has prevented earlier acknowledgement. I have no more rejections of "Pierrot" to record, but be of good cheer: they'll come in pretty soon. Trusting that we shall meet, I am sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. September 2, 1909. Page fourteen Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman, Thank you for the little magazine with your poem. I send you the latest "rejection" of "Pierrot", and the others. It would be easy to get you a dozen more, but I fancy it is needless — you'd not care for them, Meantime, I'm glad to observe that Markham under- stands. And it may gratify you to know that Sterling, to whom I sent a copy of "Pierrot" says: "I like Love- man's 'Pierrot' very much — it is poetry clear through" So you see there is a heavy balance of commenda- tion, and you win. A barren victory? Not quite; the world eventually accepts the judgment of the "experts", and, being young, you can afford to wait. My health is bad, too — has been all summer, and next spring, if still living, I shall go to California for a long rest. But I'm hoping to meet you before that time. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. November 2, 1909. Page fifteen Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman: Kindly let me know when Markham's book* is "out", so that I can get a copy if he does not send me one. Thank you for your solicitude about my health. I am now well, as I always am in winter. Doubdess there was an Eskimo somewhere in my ancestral line. Nevertheless, when I have completed the last volume of my "Collected Works" I shall go to California for a few months of rest — next Spring if God is so good. Are you still minded Europeward? And do you still keep the fire going on the altar of the Muse? Don't "serve her with divided heart" — as Sterling says — albeit her richest rewards are spiritual, rather than material. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. December 21, 1909. "The Younger Choir" Page sixteen Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman: In the work of compiling, revising and re-writing, my correspondence has suffered neglect for weeks and months. Now "I've done i' faith !" and after writing letters for a week or two shall be off to New York, whence I sail for Colon ( on my way to California ) early in April. I shall probably go first to Carmel to see Sterling and other friends, but my address will be 2009 Francisco Street, Berkeley, California. Next autumn I hope to return. I find this queer story ( enclosed ) of yours where I lost it weeks ago. Did you want me to do anything with, or to, it? I suppose not. It would be pleasant to hear from you before I set out to "sail the seas over". Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. March 7, 1910. These verses* ( which with all their faults I like ) were sent to me in manuscript, but before I could do anything with them were withdrawn by the author, Page seventeen who had found a place for them in an English review. Since then he has published much else and made quite a little talk about himself over there and here. I think the ballade may amuse you — you need not return it. A. B. *"The Ballad of the Goodly Fere", by Ezra Pound. Page eighteen 2009 Francisco St., Berkeley, Cal. Dear Mr. Loveman, I'm a long time thanking you for "The Younger Choir", which I think was not forwarded to me from Washington. I left there April 16, and arrived here, via Panama, May 19. Do not know when I shall return — probably in October. I have seen much of Sterling; we went to Yosemite together. He is enjoyable, as I trust you will one day know. I note the "Pierrot" ( with its irritating errors ) and could wish it in better company, though there is much in the book that is "not bad". I should be pleased [to] hear from you while here. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. July 22, 1910. Page nineteen My dear Mr. Loveman, It is good to catch the note of health and hope in your letter. Also to note your intention of coming to California, though I fear I shall have gone away before you arrive. I expect to return by the Santa Fe route, so can not hope to meet you in Cleveland. Of course you will go to Carmel to see Sterling. I passed a lively week there with him and his friends, and have seen much of him here, in San Francisco, and we had ten days together, too, in Yosemite Valley — whither you must go, preferably in the Spring. I'm rather expecting you to "settle" in Carmel as a permanent addition to the colony of "high-brows". You could do worse. I'm doing no work — just "loafing". Pretty strenu- ous loafing, though. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. 2009 Francisco St., Berkeley, Cal. Sept. 13, 1910. Page twenty The Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman, I am delighted to know that you will go soon to California, whence I have recendy returned. May I suggest that you go by the Santa Fe road, and give yourself a day or two at the Grand Canyon of the Colo- rado ? It can be reached without leaving your sleeper, and the extra expense is only a few dollars. You will thank me for the suggestion if you act on it. During my "outing" I saw the three greatest things of this continent — the Grand Canyon, Yosemite and the work on the Panama canal. You must see two of them. You will like Carmel ( ask Sterling to show you Point Lobos) but how the members of its "literary colony" will strike you I can't say. They don't amount to much (in literature) except Sterling. I've not seen Ezra Pound's books, but the "Goodly Fere" was submitted to me in manuscript and highly commended by me. Some that were previously sub- mitted escaped my approval by a wide margin. I'm working hard on the proofs of my "Collected Page twenty-one Works". Have nearly done Vol. VI, and am pretty tired of the whole scheme. Please write me from California. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. Nov. 27, 1910. Page twenty-two Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman, I'm sorry to know that you did not go to Cali- fornia ; you would have had much pleasure there. And before another year there may be another earthquake. On June 3 the Sterlings are to go to Sag Harbor, Long Island, for the summer. George was brought up there. You will enjoy his latest book, I think. It has no such notable poem as either "The Testimony of the Suns" or "A Wine of Wizardry", but it is all good work. I trust your letter to the * may enlighten the darkness of that sheet. I mean the intellectual dark- ness — nothing can help its moral darkness. Between it and me is an implacable feud. With every assault on me it sends to my publisher a guarded intimation that it would be to his advantage to advertise in its columns. That's what I mean by moral darkness — -just the kind of twilight congenial to a pirate of the Spanish Main. Thank you very much for the photograph, though I shall blot out the dog. I detest dogs. Page twenty-three This is my dull period — I've been pleasuring for weeks in New York, and there's always a reaction. New York is cocaine, opium, hashish. Are we to have a book from you? Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. May 28, 191 1. * A New York newspaper. Page twenty-four Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman, I'm sorry you could not "go home by way of Washington". But you saw Chattanooga and Chicka- mauga — as I did four or five years ago, many, many years after I fought on those historic fields. That region is good to see — even to one not having my interest in it. It beats Cleveland. I'm just back from Long Island, where ( at Sag Harbor ) I had pleasant hours with Sterling. I trust he took in Cleveland and you on his way back to Cali- fornia. I had observed your tribute to Sterling. It's a pity the Times person should spoil your quotation by a blunder; "share" for "care". The literary folk are taking S. seriously, now that they have been told to. We win. It is good that we are to have all your poems, but I think your preface implies needless disparagement of the "Pierrot". I prefer it to the "Oedipus". I'm not so sure about that preface and its desirability, anyhow. It seems to me a bit vague, as all attempts to define "Poetry" must be and are. There's no objection to "trying your hand" where all have failed, but don't you Page twenty-five think your poetry could be best left to speak for itself, and the definition go elsewhere ? — say in a "Dictionary of Undefinable Words". This is only a suggestion — an impertinent one, maybe. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. September 18, 191 1. Page twenty-six Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman, A Iongish and painful illness (a month in bed with lumbago ) has compelled me to neglect your kind letter. Even now I am not able to write very well. I await with impatience your little book. You should have copyrighted it. Nobody may wish now to republish it, but later some one could be more easily persuaded to if protected. You may have to do the persuading. I'm glad you again hope to go to California. I too am going, but not until next June. I had a very good time in August - September at Sag Harbor with the Sterlings and some of their friends. If you are very good at Carmel, George will feed you top-full of abelones and mussels and take you to the sea where they grow. I shall be working pretty hard as soon as able, on two additional volumes of "Collected Works". I rather tire of it. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. November 21, 191 1. Page twenty-seven Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman, I hope it is not too late for this to reach you before you go West — nor too late to wish you happi- ness and prosperity ( but why prosperity ? ) for the new year, and for all years. Did I acknowledge the little book of poems? I've been so ill and so distracted that I "don't know nothin' ". I'm well again now. The poems have given me great pleasure, though probably not so great as they gave you in the writing of them. That, take it, is a poet's real reward. If you are really and truly going to California you'd better wait there till June and go with Sterling and me to Yosemite. Why not stay always ? Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. January 5, 1912. Page twenty-eight Washington, D. C. Nov. 26, 1912. Dear Mr. Loveman, I am glad to know that you are still a part of things temporal. As to me, I am nothing in particular, except seventy years old and a bit lazy. " All the summer I was in the West — mosdy in California. Of course I saw a good deal of Sterling — more than I expect to again. You say: "The highest test of poetry is to live con- trariwise to outside influences". If I correctly "get" you this is a plea for the bohemian life. To me it seems that the manner of a poet's life is "a thing apart" from his poetry, and doesn't count; that it is not worth while to live in any particular way — only to write in a par- ticular way. In other words, it is not important that one differ from his fellowmen except in point of mental and moral superiority. But maybe I do not catch your meaning. Thank you for the verses; I am waiting for a book of them. You say you've been "working"; so you prob- ably have something done. Sterling has taken in a #250.00 prize for his Brown- ° ' Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. Page tweny-nine Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman, My friend Mencken, who writes of poets and poetry for "The Smart Set" (see the April number) has just "heard" of you from me. He is interested, and writes me: "The Loveman poem* is full of beautiful color — a truly fine lyric . . . I'll have to keep a lookout for Samuel's book, and devote a whole article to the Love- man family." I've told him there is no "book", but that I would try to procure the litde privately printed brochure")" for him. I surely shall not let him have my copy, but if you care to send him one ( or send me one for him ) I think it might be worth while. His address is: H. L. Mencken, 1524 Hollins St., Baltimore, Md. I trust that you are well and prosperous, and that you have not abjured the Muse. Sincerely yours, Ambrose Bierce. May 4, 1913. * "In Pierrot's Garden". t "Poems", by Samuel Loveman, 1912. Page thirty Washington, D. C. Dear Mr. Loveman, This is only to say good-bye. I am going away to South America in a few weeks, and have not the faint- est notion when I shall return. May you prosper and be happy. Sincerely, Ambrose Bierce. September 10, 191 3. Page thirty-one IN PIERROT'S GARDEN This is the way the moon comes up From under the glimmering fallow fields: First, but the rim of a silver cup, Where the farthest twilight primrose yields Her earthly beauty up; And now, where the deep light winks abrim, You can see it flutter and fail for breath, And a single star falls rapt and dim — I call it Death. These are my moths, a brooding slumber Falls from their painted, placid wings; The shifting dusk is white with their number, They stir to the song one sings. Into the heart of a poppy they hover, Out of the purple, starlit night; Ah, they are gone now, poppy and lover . . . I am their short delight. 3 Do you hear it ? — my bubbling nightingale, With a thousand notes to a single trill; The moon and the stars are passion-pale, Listen they must, at will. Page thirty-two Such a world of ache, such an ancient wrong, I have tried to fathom it all forsooth ; But the deep night covers the singer and song, And Youth, it cries — Youth — Youth ! I wonder what the night can hold Beyond the sea-blue, sloping boughs ; The heart of all the west is gold, I wonder why it glows. My thoughts lie heavy on mine eyes, I have so many dreams to dream, So many little fantasies To solve and scheme. They creep upon me unawares, They flutter in and out my brain ; Each one finds housing in my prayers — I hold them free from stain. SAMUEL LOVEMAN 1906 Page thirty-three