Search Results

My dear Walt Whitman, I have just been reading your lines in the "Herald" for this morning, which hold

My adventures since leaving you have not been very startling, but they have been full of everyday life

Yesterday my good friend Cyrus Butler, a kind & wealthy old gentleman, took me quite a round of studios

Bucke's place on Wednesday, where I will look to send you a further note on my doings.

I have good news of my brother at last, & so am free to sail for England in a fortnight.

constipation, & bad kidney tribulation, day & night—but I am up & dressed & sitting here by the fire, & my

Baxter has gone to Arizona, & left bust in my care.

Kennedy My idea is to charge $5. or a guinea for the vol. & print it in good style.

Sometime when you are sending you can return me the article for my collection.

I keep up my spirits as well as I can, but find it all pretty depressing.

Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to

Sunday noon April 8 '88 It is very pleasant & sunny to-day & I am going out in the rig abt 1 o'clock to my

champagne—I enjoy everything—Nothing new with me—there seems to be some hitch in the Herald's publ'ng my

My health though poor is "the same subject continued"—I enc: K[enne]dy's letter from Wilson —(not important

cold cutting true sea brine)—I have not heard a word of the Worthington suit in N Y —not a word from my

Kennedy had written to Whitman: "Rhys continues his schemes on society's pocket-book, & demoralizes my

Camden Aug: 14 '88 Sunny & cool to-day—nothing new in my case—bowel action—my lines on Sheridan's burial

were printed in Herald Aug: 12—(I am beginning to keep my bits & contributions, poetic spurts &c. again

out still undecided—not before than October anyhow—I still have the design of making a 900 page Vol. my

memories to you—for I have them always for you—Was prostrated down with ab't the sixth recurrent attack of my

paralysis again and iron-bound constipation early last June & have been kept ever since in my sick room

Boughs" wh' I send a copy to you same mail with this—Also am finishing a big Vol. comprehending all my

ready for binder—I am still at 328 Mickle Street—have not been out doors for over six months—hardly out my

here & see me Friday noon, Dec: 7 I am up, had a partial bath, a bit of breakfast & am now sitting my

I used it at my talk last week. Think I shall put up another for my own use.

I find I can co-operate with them & do my work on common ground.

My exhibition will include a variety of things.

I am going to send for my Cleveland statue & your bust.

I felt like doffing my hat to old Dame nature.

is always welcome—John's good letter was rec'd this forenoon & is cheery & hospitable as always—Yes my

—I may come to New York & see you all—We will see how the cat jumps—I still remain in my sick room—tho

—This week so far the temperature has been just right here—My little booklet November Boughs is ab't

disjointed paper on "Elias Hicks" —the publication will be delayed yet a number of weeks—I am sitting up in my

My dear Uncle Walt: I thought you would like to see your little Kittie's face so send my photograph wishing

(from my dear friend, Little Kitty (14 yr's old) daughter of my friend Johnston the jeweler—with very

My dear Friend — It was with much regret that we felt compelled to leave you in your sickness last week

Our passage across the whole way has been nearly as smooth as a duck pond, and my health has been very

I bear your messages of love and remembrance to your many many friends in London, who without my privileges

Alys, my faithful secretary, joins me in the expression of the hearty affection with which I am always

afternoon & all last night—dont seem any improvement in strength or vim —dont yet get out at all of my

literary matters by a sort of trustee-board, yourself, Harned & Horace Traubel —& assigned all [of] my

worldly possessions to Ed, & to my sisters —the "Nov.

sufficient frequent bowel movements—had a very slim day all yesterday —a little easier to-day—but slow, slow—my

dark wet day—raining hard outside as I sit here by the window—am feeling pretty well—have just had my

unawares—invites to swell dinners (or societies &c) invariably declined—Am idle & monotonous enough in my

weeks & life here—but upon the whole am mighty thankful it is no worse—my buying this shanty & settling

D[avis] to cook for me, might have been bettered by my disposing some other way —but I am satisfied it

1888] I am about the same—Strangely somehow I don't get any more power in my body or legs—I feel pretty

as before—I have not left the room up stairs yet (now nine weeks)—the Doctor thinks it not best yet— My

all, & thought it best to hurry it done right off—But at present I am much as of late years, except my

few lines from Jeff (in St Louis)—I am now sitting in the big chair—Spend most of the day here—had my

Sunday Evng Sept: 2 '88 Your good letter just rec'd & here I am sending word back—still imprisoned in my

sick room—non-rehabilitated yet but middling well for all that—my booklet November Boughs ab't finish'd

—& a large vol. comprising all my stuff begun —I am here just at sunset—Love to you all old & young—I

especially such as this one: I was sitting at breakfast yesterday morning, when the lines came into my

longing to send you a word, but you can't imagine how hard it is for me to rouse myself to write, in my

my wretched lameness prevents me from exerting myself as I want to.

Despite my illness and inanition, I am all agog for the result.

"O for the light of another sun, With my Bazra sword in my hand!"

Heyden's "The Last Words of Al-Hassan" contains the lines "O Allah, for the light of another sun, / With my

serene as ever & getting on comfortably—had a present of some plump sweet partridges —& half one for my

American sent last night—I believe the books, printing &c. are going to eventuate satisfactorily from my

point of view & plans—no cyclone of success—but no special mishap—wh' is a great victory considering my

I send you the Transcript with my notice of November Boughs —hastily pencil-scrawled bet between jobs

on my proof desk.

I asked Traubel to tell you that Wilson (Glaswegian) had written me my book. cordially yrs yours W.S.Kennedy

Dear friend I am still here neither worse nor better—but keeping in my sick room & in the big old chair—have

had something to see to in printing my books & it has probably done me more good than harm—& it all

everything—George & Harry, as far as you know—& how are you yourself—I am sitting here alone up in my

room, writing this—Mrs: Davis has been an hour or two ago out to the City Hall to pay my taxes (over

Saturday morning, 1st December 1888 My dear Walt, I want to introduce to you my friend Edward Pease of

When my dear mother was initiating "The Free Will Offering" in London Edward Pease was the first to render

Camden noon Nov: 19 '88 Dear Lou I continue getting along pretty well considering—Eat my rations & sleep

for—have not written myself)—Coolish, dark, rainy here to-day—I am sitting here yet by the stove in my

The big book (all my writings collected complete) will be done in ab't a fortnight—I shall send you one

My dear Sir: Would you be willing to entertain a proposition to cross this Autumn to England and deliver

From facts in my possession I am quite sure that you would be very successful for the cultured class

My friend and yours, R.

My friend, Jules Laforgue (who died only too prematurely) has already given to the public two of your

In expectation of your kind reply, Sir and dear poet, permit me to assure you of my sympathy in art and

of my profound admiration.

For my own part I have just had a glorious dinner of roast turkey and plum pudding and feel well!

My great anxiety now is to put meter matters in such shape that I may get to Phila and see yourself and

Traubel and see with my own eyes how things are with you.

New York Sunday 11/3/88 My dear Mr.

Whitman: You will remember my calling a few weeks back when I remember that I do so as a friend of Earl

I am as you know Wellesley Sayle an Englishman & am proud to be one of many thousands of my fellow countrymen

I shall most likely call at Phila on my way where I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again.

My dear friend: I have just heard from Kennedy that your illness continues.

so glad that you have to help you so devoted a friend as young Traubel, and through you I give him my

hand and my thanks.

In these days the glorious words you have spoken about Death comes up in my mind, and I feel much as

INSANE, LONDON, ONTARIO London, Ont., 15 June 188 8 Since reaching home Wednesday evening I have had my

I wish I could drive you about them—the weather is charming here—I have in front of me, on my desk, here

in my office an enormous bouquet of snowballs, peonies, sweet flag &c Love to you RM Bucke I have gone

My opinion (not that it is worth any thing) is that this book of yours ought to have a sale and I think

Whitman on December 21, 1883, sent "A Backward Glance on My Own Road" to The North American Review and

My eye got open at last, but is still bleary and bad.

My present woe is a festered pen finger, sore as death, and preventing me writing.

It is one of my afflictions, though without pain.—I will try to write soon.

Your book, a gift always to be handed down & treasured by my clan, reached me on my 55 th birthday, and

made me wonder that your November Boughs still hang so rich with color, while my October Leaves are

Camden pm April 26 '88 If it sh'd be quite pleasant weather Sunday my present intention is to drive down

No special news in my affairs—things much the same old way—Joe has stopt by the window a few minutes.

Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to

Camden Saturday Night Jan 14 '88 Have had my supper (some rice pudding & a cup of tea) & am sitting here

volumes of Horace Traubel's With Walt Whitman in Camden (various publishers: 1906–1996) and Whitman's "My

ab't our dear O'C—eagerly look for word —Matters so so with me—good bowel clearance to-day—word from my

friend Linton from Eng[land] to-day—he is well—Shall have some oysters for my dinner ab't 4—made my

On October 9, 1888, O'Connor wrote: "My eye is now under battery treatment (assault-and-battery treatment

the opposition & resentment at L of G. is probably as concentrated & vital & determined in New York (my

known— —I am sitting here all alone to-day—I do not eat dinner these short days—only breakfast & supper—my

appetite fair—had some buckwheat cakes & raw oysters for my breakfast.

Yesterday & to-day I am perceptibly better—Cooler & signs of September—Still adhere to my 2d story room

moment—I have somewhere a printed slip of "Old Age's Lambent Peaks" & will yet send it—but I cannot lay my

hand on it this moment—a cloudy rather pleasant day, almost cool—quiet—I reiterate the offer of my mare

All my Herald bits will be included in November Boughs & I will send an early proof of all to you—As

I write I am sitting here in my big chair by the window (I have open'd it a few moments—it is near sunset—air

am quite immobile & don't get out except by being toted —a bunch of white lilies is in the window & my

It is dry as a bone here, no rain for many weeks, my potato crop is cut short 50 per cent, & all my young

I try to keep absorbed in my farm operations.

My regards to Horace Traubel. Tell me something about him when you write again.

locomotion power & in more liability to head & stomach troubles & easiness of "catching cold" (from my

just past noon & I am told I am to have a good rice pudding made in a big earthenware baking dish for my

S. & Alice are going to London to live— a big bunch of white lilies scents the room & my little canary

you have a chance you may show this to Mary Costelloe & Wm William Rossetti —to both of whom I send my

Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to

Whitman referred to Rossetti's edition as a "horrible dismemberment of my book" in his August 12, 1871

I am still imprison'd in my sick room, yet sitting up & reading & writing & (in limits) talking & being

worst no prospect of real improvement—I mean in any body or leg strength, wh' is very low indeed—but my

—and at same time a big Vol. (900 pages) comprehending all my stuff—verses & prose—bound in one—Shall

Sir Today I was coming to Camden full of hope that I might see you but I have not enough money to pay my

Yes—you are good—may I come to see you when my ship returns in about a month?

I hope— Will you accept my "Minutiæ." Will you— if you are able —write to me.

I had, in my years of loafing, forgotten how sweet toil was.

I had quite lost any interest in literature & was fast losing my interest in life itself, but these two

months of work have sharpened my appetite for all things.

I think I can make some money & may be renew my grip upon life. I was glad to see Kennedy.

Here I am sitting up in the big chair—I got up ab't noon, (& shall keep up an hour or two, & send you my

the last two days—but the indications are still favorable (good pulse the Dr says last two days) for my

getting sort abt as usual—Dr B went back to Canada last Tuesday night, R.R. train—I am half thro' on my

roseate toward me & I feel thankful & responsive—& all the confirmatory possible— I am still kept in my

the indication of it—& to-day Saturday a fearful hot & oppressive baker & prostrater , the worst to my

printing office is now all diverged on a Harrison and Morton book, hurry is up—will take them a week—my

Camden Saturday noon Sept. 22 '88 Still here in my big chair in the sick room yet—a coolish wave to-day

him as of old—he thinks himself it affects his literary power, (style, even matter)—Horace told him my

binder this evening—Shall not feel out of the woods & all safe, until I see the October Century , with my

roots" for the meter (slang from N Y vagabonds, for favorable prophecy)—It gets cooler & I have donn'd my

In his journal he wrote of their farewell: "He presses my hand long and tenderly; we kiss and part, probably

B. " and has considerable to say of my "fame"—(I am not sure but we are to put E C S on our list of real

I am sitting in my big chair by the oak wood fire as I write—it is a darkish, damp, heavy-air'd day &

I am not feeling my easiest—Mr Ingram has just been in & bo't a copy of Nov: B. for a Quakeress friend

, & got some loose reading matter for a prisoner in jail I send to sometimes —my head is weighty & sore

the net is slowly winding & tightening round me)—was out driving yesterday afternoon & to supper at my

—the oysters come—I had 3 or 4 for my breakfast—I take no other meal till ab't 5—Lady Mount Temple has

Walt Whitman I see I have taken a sheet of paper with a rambling first draught of one of my Herald yawps

since that ill spell—Nothing special or new with me—bitter cold just now here, but sun shining to day—My

visitors—Morse still away west—the Smiths going to London early in summer—Mrs D[avis] has just been in to see to my

coal & to say we are to have apple pudding for dinner—it is chilly here as I finish this—my little bird

April 19/88 Walt Whitman: Dear Sir: It is probable that my friend Kennedy has told you something of me

, saying that he finds a "solid line of enemies" (I think those were his words) This is not true of my

In my teaching and lecturing I find no difficulty in getting Converts to the new doctrine and find your

and lecturing to bring your work before the people and it would give me pleasure to know you consider my

allude to his visit to America, but there may be something in it — —I feel better—am working a little at my

booklet yesterday and to-day—my head feels easier, but the weakness especially in getting about & in

my knee power is fearful—Hope you & George and Ed & Deb & Jo & the young one are jolly & sitting up—

July 8th 1888 My dear Walt; I have followed your illness with breathless concern—that is, what I could

My sister has gone home. My brother is busy in the shop; & the children in school.

She dont exactly see why I can not do my work here.

I shall bring on my bust of her when I come.

My brother's wife died some years ago, leaving 3 children.

He says my copy is quite as good as the original. I dont think so myself, tho' it aproximates.

hottest day of the season—but I have got thro' fairly with it—& have just finish'd & quite enjoy'd my

Not yet left my room for down stairs— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to Mary Whitall Smith Costelloe, 4 August

Wednesday Evn'g Oct: 3 '88 The doctor was here this afternoon & speaks encouragingly but I still keep in my

sick room—My books are thro' the electrotyper & printer & are now in the binder —Soon as ready I shall

Monday PM Aug: 6 '88 Hot & sweltering weather here now the sixth day—No good news to send you ab't my

—sitting up —but have not left my room— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to William D.