I have just received your letter, & respond immediately, because by what you have written, it may be that you can do me a great favor—I have obtained leave of absence, & am coming to New York, principally to bring out a new & much better edition of Leaves of Grass complete—that unkillable work!—Mother's apartments in Pacific st are very limited, & I had decided to get a lodging room in N. Y. or Brooklyn, so as not to incommode my folks at home—taking my meals at the restaurants, & home &c—leaving my time free for my work &c—Now have you such a room for me, at a fair price? I hope you have, for that would be very agreeable—Your going off for a week or two would not make any difference—as a lodging is my main object—write immediately & let me know, as my leave of absence will probably date from Monday next, 6th inst—
Mrs. O'Connor2 has gone west, with her mother, for the summer—Wm O'Connor3 is well—We all speak of you—The weather is almost perfect here now-a-days—I am writing this by my window in the south front of the Treasury building, looking down the beautiful grounds in front, and across & down the Potomac for miles, & across to the green hills all along Arlington Heights, very beautiful & cool—a view of great expanse, & very comforting every way—also a pleasant breeze coming in steadily from the river.
I have an agreeable situation here—labor moderate—& plenty of leisure—My principal work is to make (from rough drafts) the letters, answers, law opinions, &c that go from the Attorney General to the President, or to the Secretary of State, & the other Heads of Departments—The rule is that none but such officers as just named have a right to require information from Attorney Generals—So you see I have to do only with the big men—
There is one regular Soldiers Hospital left here, in K street—I go there once or twice every week—it is still a great privilege to go—You would be amazed, as well as distressed, to know how many old wounds are lingering along yet—youth & hope struggling against fate—but the latter, alas! almost always conquering at last—it is indeed a great privilege to soothe the lingering days & months of many of these cases.
Walt.Mother is quite well, & comfortable—considering her age—brothers, sisters & the children, all well, at last accounts.
Correspondent:
Abby H. Price
(1814–1878) was active in various social-reform movements. Price's
husband, Edmund, operated a pickle factory in Brooklyn, and the couple had four
children—Arthur, Helen, Emily, and Henry (who died in 1852, at 2 years of
age). During the 1860s, Price and her family, especially her daughter, Helen,
were friends with Whitman and with Whitman's mother, Louisa Van Velsor Whitman.
In 1860 the Price family began to save Walt's letters. Helen's reminiscences of
Whitman were included in Richard Maurice Bucke's biography, Walt Whitman (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1883), and she printed for
the first time some of Whitman's letters to her mother in Putnam's Monthly 5 (1908): 163–169. In a letter to Ellen M.
O'Connor from November 15, 1863, Whitman declared
with emphasis, "they are all friends, to prize & love
deeply." For more information on Whitman and Abby H. Price, see Sherry Ceniza, "Price, Abby Hills (1814–1878)," Walt Whitman: An Encyclopedia, ed. J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New York: Garland Publishing, 1998).