Your letter came to me just when I most needed the comfort of it—when I was watching and tending my
dear Mother as she gently, slowly, with but little suffering, sank to rest. There was no sick bed to sit
by.—We got her up and out into the air and sunshine for an hour or two even the day before she died—No
loc_cb.00358.jpg
disease, only the stomach could not do its work any longer & for the last three weeks she lived wholly
on stimulants, suffering somewhat from sickness. She drew her last breath very gently, before daybreak on
the 15th inst. , in her 90th year, which she had entered in
Jan .
She looked very beautiful in death, notwithstanding her great age—as well she might—tranquil
sunset that it was of a beautiful day—a fulfilled life—joy & delight of her father in youth
(who used to call her the apple of his eye) good wife, devoted,
self-wise
loc_cb.00359.jpgsacrificing,
mother—patient, courageous sufferer through thirty years of chronic rheumatism (which however
neutralized & ceased its pains the last few years) unsurpassed & indeed I think unsurpassable, in
conscientiousness—in the strong sense of duty & perfect obedience to that highest sense—she
is one of those who amply justify your large faith in women.
I do not need to tell you anything my dearest friend—you know all—I feel your strong comforting hand—I press it very close.
I had all my children with me at the funeral— loc_cb.00356.jpgO
the comfort your dear letter was & is to me. Thinking over & over the few words you say of
yourself—& what is said in the paper (so eagerly read—every word so welcome) I cannot help
fancying that the return of the distressing sensations in the head must be caused by your having worked at
the book—the "Two Rivulets"1 (I dearly love
the title & the idea of bringing the Poems & Prose together so)—that you must be more patient
with yourself and submit still to perfect rest—& that perhaps in regard to the stomach—you
have not enough adapted your diet to the privation of exercise—that you must be more indulgent to the
stomach too in the sense of giving it only the very easiest & simplest work to do.
My children join their love with mine.
Correspondent:
Anne Burrows Gilchrist
(1828–1885) was the author of one of the first significant pieces of
criticism on Leaves of Grass, titled "A Woman's Estimate
of Walt Whitman (From Late Letters by an English Lady to W. M. Rossetti)," The Radical 7 (May 1870), 345–59. Gilchrist's long
correspondence with Whitman indicates that she had fallen in love with the poet
after reading his work; when the pair met in 1876 when she moved to
Philadelphia, Whitman never fully returned her affection, although their
friendship deepened after that meeting. For more information on their
relationship, see Marion Walker Alcaro, "Gilchrist, Anne Burrows (1828–1885)," Walt
Whitman: An Encyclopedia, ed. J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New
York: Garland Publishing, 1998).