In Twain's Footsteps

When he was living in Hartford, Connecticut, in the 1870s and 1880s, Twain liked to take long walks from his mansion on Farmington Avenue to the woods of Talcott Mountain, about eight miles west of town. Even in the early 21st century the trail along the mountain ridge still looks down on miles of rolling countryside with only scattered signs of development.

Often his companion on these walks was Joseph Twichell, his liberal-minded family minister. They discussed everything, from religion and politics to history and sex. Twain felt free to speak his mind with Twichell, who was used to being around men of all types, having served in the Civil War as a chaplain in one of the Union army’s roughest regiments. The reverend was especially tolerant of his friend’s swearing, telling him once that he believed “some men’s oaths are more worshipful than some men’s prayers.”

 

 It was for their private amusement that Twain wrote his bawdy parody of life at the Elizabethan court, 1601, the manuscript of which they would take on their walks and read out loud for laughs. (The little story features frank discussions of sexual matters amid much breaking of wind at court.) As the happy father of nine children, Joe Twichell was no stranger to the joys of sex, and Twain took pleasure in making wry references to the reverend’s virility. When someone once asked him how many children Joe had, he replied, “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him since morning.”


Here's another view from Talcott Mountain.

Go hiking at Talcott State Park