Mark Twain and his biographer Albert Bigelow Paine lining it up. Courtesy of the NYPL Digital Gallery. In January 1874, on a lecture tour in London, Twain wrote his wife about his new favorite cocktail. Livy my darling, I want you to be sure & remember to have, in the [bath-room], when I arrive, a bottle of Scotch whisky, a lemon, & some crushed sugar, & a bottle of Angostura bitters. Ever since I have been in London I have taken in a wine-glass what is called a cock-tail (made with those ingredients,) before breakfast, before dinner, & just before going to bed… To it I attribute the fact that up to this day my digestion has been wonderful—simply perfect. It remains day after day & week after week as regular as a clock. Now my dear, if you will give the order now, to have those things put in the bath-room & left there till I come, they will be there when I arrive. Will you? I love to write about arriving—it seems as if it were to be tomorrow. And I love to picture myself ringing the bell, at midnight—then a pause of a second or two—then the turning of the bolt, & “Who is it?”—then ever so many kisses—then you & I in the bath-room, I drinking my cock-tail & undressing, & you standing by—then to bed, and — —everything happy & jolly as it should be… Nothing but Angostura bitters will do.

Mark Twain and his biographer Albert Bigelow Paine lining it up. Courtesy of the NYPL Digital Gallery.

In January 1874, on a lecture tour in London, Twain wrote his wife about his new favorite cocktail.

Livy my darling, I want you to be sure & remember to have, in the [bath-room], when I arrive, a bottle of Scotch whisky, a lemon, & some crushed sugar, & a bottle of Angostura bitters. Ever since I have been in London I have taken in a wine-glass what is called a cock-tail (made with those ingredients,) before breakfast, before dinner, & just before going to bed… To it I attribute the fact that up to this day my digestion has been wonderful—simply perfect. It remains day after day & week after week as regular as a clock. Now my dear, if you will give the order now, to have those things put in the bath-room & left there till I come, they will be there when I arrive. Will you? I love to write about arriving—it seems as if it were to be tomorrow. And I love to picture myself ringing the bell, at midnight—then a pause of a second or two—then the turning of the bolt, & “Who is it?”—then ever so many kisses—then you & I in the bath-room, I drinking my cock-tail & undressing, & you standing by—then to bed, and — —everything happy & jolly as it should be…
Nothing but Angostura bitters will do.
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