Washington City, U. S.
November 3, 1871.
Dear friend,1
I have been waiting quite a long while for time & the right mood to answer your
letter2 in a spirit as serious as its own, & in the
same unmitigated trust & affection. But more daily work than ever has fallen
upon me to do the current season, & though I am well & contented, my best
moods seem to shun me. I wished to give to it a day, a sort of Sabbath or holy day
apart to itself, under serene & propitious influences—confident that I
could then write you a letter which would do you good, & me too. But I must at
least show, without further delay, that I am not insensible to your love. I too send
you my love. And do you feel no disappointment because I now write but briefly. My
book is my best letter, my response, my truest explanation of all. In it I have put
my body & spirit. You understand this better & fuller & clearer than any
one else. And I too fully & clearly understand the loving & womanly letter
it has evoked. Enough that there surely exists between us so beautiful &
delicate a relation, accepted by both of us with joy.3
Walt Whitman
Notes
- 1. For forgeries of this
letter, see Walt Whitman Newsletter, 4 (1958),
92–93. This letter is Whitman's response to Anne Gilchrist's September 3–6, 1871 letter to Whitman. [back]
- 2. Walt Whitman had not as
yet received Gilchrist's second letter, written on October 23, 1871: "… but spare me the needless suffering of
uncertainty on this point & let me have one line, one word, of assurance
that I am no longer hidden from you by a thick cloud—I from thee—not
thou from me: for I that have never set eyes upon thee…love thee day &
night.…I am yet young enough to bear thee children, my darling, if God
should so bless me. And would yield my life for this cause with serene joy if it
were so appointed, if that were the price for thy having a 'perfect
child'." [back]
- 3. After Horace Traubel read
this letter aloud in 1889, Walt Whitman spoke at some length of the "passionate
love" of his friends which "offset the venomous hate" of his critics: "The
substance of that letter—its feel: what it starts out to say to her: oh!
with a few words taken out and put in—it would do for any of you!" (Horace
Traubel, With Walt Whitman in Camden [1906–1996],
3:514). [back]