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Charles L. Heyde to Walt Whitman, March 1867

 duk.00390.001.jpg Friend Walter,

Your letters &c have all been received and delivered to Han. Respecting her neglect of writing her aged mother, not the slightest apology can be offerd. I have been compelled for a long time to procure a novel, for her "Sunday" reading—and certainly, if she spends Sunday this way, she can't write to her mother. It is reasonable to anticipate, from Mrs. Whitmans past robustness, and present approaching infirmities, that she will never undergo protracted sickness, but her demise, when it does take place, will occur in a brief period. It may so happen that Hannah may not be permitted to see her mother again (although I trust that Mrs Whitman will live many  duk.00390.002.jpg years to come.

I have reasoned with Han, in this way, but without avail—Han realy experiences no outward sentiment or sympathy—This neglect of hers is odious to me. I have told her frankly that it is impossible for me to respect her, in view of this; coupled with her indifference, and ingratitude in other cases.

She drudges about the same—"washing" now takes place three days of the week, commencing Sunday morning; and her appearance would disgrace any servant in the vicinity. It seems impossible for me to maintain any respectable degree of order—It has become more than constant controversy—allmost a fight. She has no respect for me, nor the least consideration for the [illegible] bear I have performed, in endeavoring to accomplish an agreeable neat, and pretty home—I can go no further with it—We occupy but three rooms of the house, and these are badly kept.  duk.00390.003.jpg ; my personal washing amounts to just 4 pieces a week, with a pair of stocking and two or three handkerchiefs.

I have three vacant rooms—I dare not let them, at a handsome rent, or either use them myself professionally—

A greater want of morals or womanly sensibility could scarcely be found and intellectual imbecility—

She has been some days, and succeeds in tracing 3 lines to her mother, in "lead" pencil—I grow indignant and exasperated—No man assumes so much household responsibilities as I do, and all but for two persons—

Han speaks of visiting Brooklyn. I make no objection, although it will bring no comfort to her mother, I predict.

She is too thoroughly selfish—There has been a proposition also for my absence—a few short months, [illegible] run down my place more than I would like to recover—So I shall rent the house—It is but a shelter since, I was sick; she deliberately turned the key on me, and I had to stay at my room all night—comment is unnecessary—

C. L. Heyde
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