Robert Louis Stevenson: the man who gave us pirates, potions, and paradoxes. If you’ve ever envisioned a peg-legged pirate squawking commands at a parrot perched on his shoulder, you can thank Stevenson for the prototype, Long John Silver, from Treasure Island. If you’ve shuddered at the thought of the duality of man, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde has Stevenson’s fingerprints all over it. He churned out poems, travelogues, political musings, and short stories—essentially, he was a literary Swiss Army knife.

Yet for all his creativity and the literary gifts that he gave to the world, Stevenson should also be remembered for another gift — an unlikely and thoughtful one to a girl who struggled with the burden of having a Christmas birthday.

Christmas Birthday Blues

Stevenson’s Birthday

“How I should like a birthday!” said the child,
“I have so few, and they so far apart.”
She spoke to Stevenson—the Master smiled—
“Mine is to-day; I would with all my heart
That it were yours; too many years have I!
Too swift they come, and all too swiftly fly.”

So by a formal deed he there conveyed
All right and title in his natal day,
To have and hold, to sell or give away,—
Then signed, and gave it to the little maid.

Joyful, yet fearing to believe too much,
She took the deed, but scarcely dared unfold.
Ah, liberal Genius! at whose potent touch
All common things shine with transmuted gold!
A day of Stevenson’s will prove to be
Not part of Time, but Immortality.

— Katherine Miller

Among Stevenson’s friends was Annie Ide, daughter of U.S. Senator Henry C. Ide. Annie had the misfortune of being born on December 25—a date that, while festive for the general population, is notoriously inconvenient for the birthday-having minority. Annie lamented her plight to Stevenson, bemoaning that Christmas overshadowed her special day, leaving no room for birthday candles amidst the tinsel and eggnog.

Stevenson, ever the wordsmith and empathetic soul, decided to do something about it. No, he didn’t propose a second Christmas. Instead, he offered Annie the most generous—and bizarre—gift he could think of: his own birthday.

A Gifted Birthday for the Ages

Although he never practiced law, Stevenson had trained for and qualified for the Scottish Bar. Calling upon that education, the famous author penned what might be the most whimsical pseudo-legal document in history and deeded his birthday — November 13 — to Annie:

We appreciate his sense of humor, such as his little aside, “being in sound mind, and pretty well, I thank you, in mind and body…” Even so, there is no other way to describe, “I have met H. C. Ide, the father of the said Annie H. Ide, and found him as white a land commissioner as I require…” as being beyond cringeworthy.

Setting antiquated and inappropriate racial commentary aside, Stevenson added a caveat to the gift: Annie had to adopt the name Louisa—at least in private—and celebrate “with moderation and humanity.” Failure to comply, he warned, would result in the birthday being transferred to the President of the United States.

Did you know that if there are 23 people in a room, there is a 50% chance that two of them will share the same birthday? Find out why.

It Was a Deed, Not a Bequest

The internet is replete with reports that Stevenson left his birthday to Annie as a bequest in his will. That Is not true. His last will and testament was written just a short time before his death in 1894. It makes no mention of Annie Ide or his birthday.

The fact that the gift of his birthday was not part of his estate plans could be, in part, due to the fact that he had already deeded away his birthday. By signing the deed to Annie in 1891, he had no birthday to give away at the time of his death. Unless, of course, Annie did not accept the gift in the first place.

Historians have found no evidence that Annie ever accepted her new birthday or legally claimed November 13 as her own. For all we know, the President of the United States may still have an unclaimed November birthday lying around, gathering metaphorical dust. If so, we’ll need to update our article “Happy Birthday to the Chief.”

Stevenson’s peculiar gift remains one of the oddest footnotes in literary history, a testament to his humor, imagination, and knack for turning the mundane into something extraordinary. Possibly, Annie Ide may have stuck with her Christmas birthday. Regardless, she undoubtedly had the distinction of receiving what might be the most creative and thoughtful birthday/Christmas present ever conceived.

This year, if you find yourself at a loss about what to give that special person who is so hard to shop for, take a page from Stevenson’s book. Who needs a traditional celebration when you can just gift away your birthday?

1. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON a record, an estimate, and a memorial by ALEXANDER H. JAPP, LL.D., F.R.S.E (The birthday deed can be found in Chapter VIII ↩︎

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