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James W. Wallace to Walt Whitman, 11 October 1891

 loc_vm.01007_large.jpg Dear Walt,

I am often inclined to wish that you could have been with me today. As that is impossible I wish that I could give you word pictures of all I have seen. But I must content myself with the briefest hints & suggestions.

I arrived at Hungtington Station1 @ 5. 57 last night, & rode in traincar to village, putting up @ the Suffolk Hotel where you & Dr Bucke2 stayed 10 years ago. After supper I explored the main street a little—called in at the Library to see if I could refer to a map of roads &c.—borrowed the copy of "Specimen Days"3 you presented to the Library in 1883—called on Mr Funell (druggist) to ask particulars of localities—got copies of the "Long Islander"4 one of which I send to you—& arranged for  loc_vm.01008_large.jpg buggy for today.

At 8.30 this morning it came round—driven by an old man named Dodge—& we drove to West Hills. I need not tell you how interesting the country was to me; nor do I need to describe it. Mr. & Mrs Jarvis5 were very kind & courteous, & showed me round the house. Then to the old homestead. Apple trees every where loaded heavily with fruit—apples lying in unheeded heaps on the ground. So plentiful & so cheap this year that it isn't worth while to send them off. And far more here than they know what to do with.

Kindly received by Mrs Place6 with whom I sat a little—looking in the old kitchen. Looked over the old farm lands, at the kitchen garden, the well, the dwelling  loc_vm.01009_large.jpg of your great grandfather (now used as a wagon-house &c)—the grove of black walnuts—the grand old oak (shrunken of late years they say)—the orchard with its plentiful crop—&c.

I went up to the old burial ground & sat there alone for about half an hour. The sky was rather dull—but the clouds were high, the air clear, & the temperature pleasant. A light breeze sounded in the woods a low pensive rhythm—a distant cricket chirped—& all else was silent—"graves under us silent."7

Drove next to the top of Jaynes' Hill.—the great South Bay & the beach beyond in sight to the south—to the north the Channel & the Connecticut Hills beyond—eastward the well wooded undulating panorama of the Island with Dix Hills in the centre—westward woods & woods beyond.8

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Then back just in time for dinner @ 12.30.

At 1. 40 Dodge brought the buggy round again & we drove to Cold Spring.9 The sun had come out & a beautiful afternoon was granted us. We didn't know where to find the Velsor burial ground &c., so called at Warren P. Velsor's10 to enquire. He referred us to his cousin "Charlie Velsor."11 He (WPV) knew you 50 years ago—attended your school—thought you boarded (while "boarding round") with his father, & shared bed with him—& asked me to give you his best respects. He is a butcher—retains the Velsor love for horses—is a good horse doctor & likes to keep a good horse himself—Drove on past the Harbor—up the hill through the woods, past Charles H Jones',12 along the level road, then to the left along a lane with snakefences on each side to "Charlie Velsor's. The old man came out & was  loc_vm.01011_large.jpg extremely kind & obliging. He offered to accompany us, & as he was rather lame in one ankle I gave him my seat in the buggy & walked alongside. He attributed his lameness to the fact that his brother "Lije"13 & he used to be great "hoppers," & rheumatiz had settled in his ankle since. He is in his 78th year, but is wonderfully hale, active & cute. He has a fine old face & head & reminded me of you in his nose & ears. Face shaven. He said he had been a strong man in his time, but had "got over it." He remembered taking you & Dr. Bucke, & wished that you could come again. He looked with interest & pleasure at your portraits in L of G & Dr Bucke's book14 (As also did his cousin, Mr & Mrs Jarvis & Mrs Place)

Down the hill amongst the trees to the secluded valley below—a turn to the left across a narrow field—& we  loc_vm.01012_large.jpg were at the foot of the burial hill.—Up through the bush & we were in the burial ground itself—surrounded by trees, secluded, still, simple, & natural, with sunlit sky above. Stood there about 20 minutes, looked for quite a time at your grandfather15 & grandmother's16 graves, & at the rest. ("No finer women ever walked this earth than the women of the Williams family" said & repeated old C.V.)

Then back to the buggy & along to the Major's homestead. Foundations of house visible & cellar still there—had quite large cherry trees growing in cellar & in centre of Sitting Room. Big Ash tree (now getting old) growing near front door. No traces left of barn, wagon-house &c—the grain fields which were there on your visit in '81 also gone—the ground now planted with trees—smallish—mostly cedars. The valley very beautiful & peaceful in the late afternoon light.  loc_vm.01013_large.jpg I let the buggy get ahead of me, & then turned up to the burial ground again to spend 5 minutes there alone. The ground itself shaded, the tops of the trees were bright in the sunlight, with beautiful sky above. The leaves rustled gently in the wind, & all was peaceful & sweet. I stopped at your grandmother's grave (—I could have loved her, & even from description love her sweet memory—) & plucked one or two small fronds of fern—(will enclose one for you.) Then walked alone up the lane—the sunlight streaming through the trees—up to the house. Shook hands with the old man, who sent his regards to you, & we drove back.

It has been a blessed day to me—a true Sabbath—in many ways & will be long memorable to me.

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And apart from all its old associations I can understand & share your love for this beautiful country. I am glad to have seen it, even for a day, & wish that I could explore it more fully. But its spirit & influence—inland & on the coast—are embalmed in your book—& that at least I have.

Tomorrow morning, if fine, I will drive over to Centreport to see Gilchrist17—returning to Brooklyn in the evening.

I think I had better spend 2 days in New York & come to Camden on Thursday. But I will write again. In any case Andrew Rome18 will accompany me for the day.

Tender & loving thoughts & wishes to you tonight & always. Good night & God bless you J.W. Wallace

Correspondent:
James William Wallace (1853–1926), of Bolton, England, was an architect and great admirer of Whitman. Wallace, along with Dr. John Johnston (1852–1927), a physician in Bolton, founded the "Bolton College" of English admirers of the poet. Johnston and Wallace corresponded with Whitman and with Horace Traubel and other members of the Whitman circle in the United States, and they separately visited the poet and published memoirs of their trips in John Johnston and James William Wallace, Visits to Walt Whitman in 1890–1891 by Two Lancashire Friends (London: Allen and Unwin, 1917). For more information on Wallace, see Larry D. Griffin, "Wallace, James William (1853–1926)," Walt Whitman: An Encyclopedia, ed. J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New York: Garland Publishing, 1998).


Notes

  • 1. Wallace visited Whitman in Camden, New Jersey, and the Canadian physician Richard Maurice Bucke at Bucke's home in London, Ontario, Canada, in the fall of 1891. He also spent time in New York during the trip. Accounts of Wallace's visit can be found in Dr. John Johnston and Wallace's Visits to Walt Whitman in 1890–91 (London, England: G. Allen & Unwin, ltd., 1917). [back]
  • 2. Richard Maurice Bucke (1837–1902) was a Canadian physician and psychiatrist who grew close to Whitman after reading Leaves of Grass in 1867 (and later memorizing it) and meeting the poet in Camden a decade later. Even before meeting Whitman, Bucke claimed in 1872 that a reading of Leaves of Grass led him to experience "cosmic consciousness" and an overwhelming sense of epiphany. Bucke became the poet's first biographer with Walt Whitman (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1883), and he later served as one of his medical advisors and literary executors. For more on the relationship of Bucke and Whitman, see Howard Nelson, "Bucke, Richard Maurice," Walt Whitman: An Encyclopedia, ed. J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New York: Garland Publishing, 1998). [back]
  • 3. The first issue of Whitman's Specimen Days and Collect was published by the Philadelphia firm of Rees Welsh and Company in 1882. The second issue was published by David McKay. Many of the autobiographical notes, sketches, and essays that focus on the poet's life during and beyond the Civil War had been previously published in periodicals or in Memoranda During the War (1875–1876). For more information on Specimen Days, see George Hutchinson and David Drews "Specimen Days [1882]," Walt Whitman: An Encyclopedia, ed. J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New York: Garland Publishing, 1998). [back]
  • 4. Whitman founded the Long Islander newspaper in 1838. He published his poem, "Our Future Lot," in the paper. During the summer of 1839, he sold the newspaper and moved to New York City. No copies of The Long-Islander edited by Whitman are known to exist. For more information on the newspaper, see Karen Karbeiner, "Long Islander, ed. J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New York: Garland Publishing, 1998). [back]
  • 5. As yet we have no information about this person. [back]
  • 6. As yet we have no information about this person. [back]
  • 7. Wallace is quoting a line from "The Mason Lodge," a poem by German writer Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832), as translated from the German by Scottish writer Thomas Carlyle (1795–1881). [back]
  • 8. Jayne's Hill is the highest point on Long Island, New York; Dix Hills is a hilly area in central Long Island that was used primarily for farming until after World War II. [back]
  • 9. Cold Spring Harbor on Long Island is a former whaling town that, at the time of Wallace's visit, had become a resort town. [back]
  • 10. Warren Pike Velsor (1827–1905) worked on a farm in New York. He was married to Elizabeth Amelia Velsor (1831–1909) and the father of several children. [back]
  • 11. As yet we have no information about this person. [back]
  • 12. As yet we have no information about this person. [back]
  • 13. As yet we have no information about this person. [back]
  • 14. Richard Maurice Bucke was Whitman's first biographer. Walt Whitman was published in 1883 by David McKay in Philadelphia; Whitman himself wrote long passages for the book and heavily revised others. [back]
  • 15. Cornelius Van Velsor (1768–1837), who was often called "The Major," was the maternal granfather of Walt Whitman. For more on Van Velsor, see see Amy M. Bawcom, "Van Velsor, Cornelius (1768–1837)," Walt Whitman: An Enclycopedia, ed J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New York: Garland Publishing, 1998). [back]
  • 16. Naomi [Amy] Williams (d. 1826) was the maternal grandmother of Walt Whitman. For more about Williams, see Amy M. Bawcom, "Van Velsor, Naomi [Amy] Williams [d. 1826]," Walt Whitman: An Enclycopedia, ed J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New York: Garland Publishing, 1998). [back]
  • 17. Herbert Harlakenden Gilchrist (1857–1914), son of Alexander and Anne Gilchrist, was an English painter and editor of Anne Gilchrist: Her Life and Writings (London: T. Fisher Unwin, 1887). For more information, see Marion Walker Alcaro, "Gilchrist, Herbert Harlakenden (1857–1914)," Walt Whitman: An Encyclopedia, ed. J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New York: Garland Publishing, 1998). [back]
  • 18. Andrew Rome, perhaps with the assistance of his brother Tom, printed Whitman's first edition of Leaves of Grass (1855) in a small shop at the intersection of Fulton and Cranberry in Brooklyn. It was likely the first book the firm ever printed. [back]
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