Search Results

Sea Captains, Young or Old

My dear Edmund Yates, Pardon me for my forgetfulness about the pictures.

Walt Whitman My address here is Solicitor's Office, Treasury , and shall always be happy to hear from

Dear Son Pete, Here I sit again by the heater in the parlor, writing my weekly letter—I have just had

my dinner, some cold turkey & glass of Missouri wine &c.

—had been out to the P.O. some five or six squares distant—but have to take my time—Am still getting

is undoubtedly better, which, I hope will in time bring improvement in my walking, & in my head, &c

November 25, they print a portrait of my beautiful phiz. & a criticism on my books, one of the best &

get it Saturday—which may have made you some uneasy—but you need not be, as I still continue to hold my

proposed Centennial Exposition —I will send you pictures of the buildings soon— I am sitting here in my

& come and call on me, should he come to Philadelphia—Tell Wash Milburn, & Parker also, I send them my

at their bloody tricks till the U.S. (& perhaps England) steps in & kicks them out of Cuba—which in my

Dear Pete, dear son, I am sitting here in my room again writing to you—there is no particular change

in the situation—we are having some pretty cold weather here—I go out a little every day, but my walking

I suppose you got mine last Tuesday— —I have just had my dinner, bean soup, boiled beef, & pumpkin-pie

worse—it is now just after 2, & I am feeling quite comfortable—& hope this will find you all right, my

Dear Son Pete, Nothing very new with me—I continue about the same—my general strength the best it has

—As I write this holding the paper on my lap I am sitting here in the parlor, by the heater—have had

my dinner—drank quite a goblet of wine, which I believe has flown into my head.

I wear my old gray suit, & the old black overcoat,—& when very cold, or stormy my gray shawl—If you should

see me now leaning against Milburn's counter, you wouldn't see any difference from last winter —(but my

Dear boy Pete, Well, I am sitting here in the parlor again writing my weekly letter—as I write, the rain

feeling pretty bad, but it seems to be mostly from a severe cold in the head—anyhow I am having one of my

bad spells, of which I have gone through so many—had a bad night last night—but have eat my breakfast

week, & I have enjoyed sailing across the Delaware, & the splendid sunsets most every evening—it is my

you scratch down, as I sit here a great deal of the time, (& time is dull & lonesome, at the best)— My

—I send you some papers to-day— —There is nothing new with me, or my condition—My principal malady is

no worse)—but I have had for three or four days a wretched cold in the head, sore throat, most lost my

nice view for me to sit & look out—the letter carrier comes around in about an hour from now, & takes my

that's about the best I can say—continue to get out a little every day when the weather will permit—but my

last night) is to wear over—I got the stuff, it is first rate Middlesex flannel, cost $5, (same as my

necessary—must then be washed by some one experienced in washing nice flannels—I sent Graphic with my

portrait —(as they sent me some)—also my Capitol letter —I rec'd your good letter last Tuesday Dear

Nash—give them both my love—(I see just a line in the paper that Mr.

close, as we have had real winter here, snow & bad weather, & bad walking—I have been quite alone, as my

off to Delaware on Wednesday on a Christmas visit, to return to-morrow, Saturday—I am about the same—My

strength still keeps quite encouraging—I think is better than any time yet—my walking no better, & still

a good deal of distress in the head—but, as I said in my letter of Monday last, (did you get it Tuesday

is so much complicated machinery about one of these heaters with all the late improvements—give me my

Dear Pete, I want some things taken out of my trunk, & put in a bundle & sent here by express.

you this afternoon, to-morrow , or next will do just as well, as I am in no hurry— —You both go up in my

room & get them—I want My old gray suit , coat vest &, (I think there are two pair of pants) My old

August 29 . 75 My dear son, Your letter came all right last Monday, & the papers.

needn't mind the other Sunday papers—I send you Harper's magazine for September—I am still holding my

was glad to hear from you—I am still in a pretty bad way —I am writing this over at the office, at my

desk, but feel to-day more like laying down than sitting up—I do not walk any better, & my head has

strength—very slowly—& shall yet get well as ever—Every thing goes on about the same, in the sphere of my

impossible in reality— —I got a long letter from Dowden —he mentions you —As I sit I look over from my

were men out there in their shirt-sleeves raking it up—I have a big bunch of lilacs in a pitcher in my

My brother & I are pleased with your plan, in general—my brother favors the ground story of stone ,—but

—I am not very well to-day —but am up & have been out—am generally about the same as noted in my last

If you are willing to go into selling my books, I think you ought to have some of the little 30 brochure

& was glad to hear from you—I am still in a pretty bad way—I am writing this over at the office, at my

desk, but feel to-day more like laying down than sitting up—I do not walk any better, & my head has

strength—very slowly—& shall yet get well as ever — Every thing goes on about the same, in the sphere of my

is impossible in reality— I got a long letter from Dowden —he mentions you—As I sit I look over from my

were men out there in their shirt-sleeves raking it up—I have a big bunch of lilacs in a pitcher in my

April 17, '73 Dear Sir, Your letter of Feb. 8, '73, remitting my acc't account , and sales up to 1st

Also please return me, if convenient, the printed slip I forwarded you of my last acc't. with you, marked

Lee, Shephard & Dillingham whether they would not take my books, (the new editions) & job them.

There is beginning to be a steady, though moderate demand for my books, & if there were a good & permanent

My dear Dan Gilette, Your kind letter—with that of your English friend Chrissie Deschamps, (so full of

It seems to be a fluctuating & pretty stout struggle between my general physique & constitution, & my

My best regards & love to you, my friend, & to my English friends the same.

Pete, I am not having a very good time—My head troubles me—yesterday was as bad as ever—as far from well

employment for you—now I am here, crippled, laid up for God knows how long, unable to help myself, or my

about 3½ squares the other way, has I believe 6 or 7 cars—I get out & take a ride in them sometimes—my

I am about the same as to my sickness—no worse. Walt. Walt Whitman to Peter Doyle, 31 May [1873]

I am still about the same as when I last wrote—am no worse, & not much better—though I perceive my general

strength is at least as good as any time since I have been sick—My head still troubles me with pain

thinking that every thing with me might be a great deal worse—I can put up with all but the death of my

mother—that is my great sorrow that sticks—affects me just as much now, or more, than at the time.

cut out the piece below from a Philadelphia paper, thinking it might interest you—As is I sit here in my

Philadelphia—it is hard work, especially as I have no one to go with me—but I put a bold face on, & my

easily do if I would I should like much to go on the trips so handy & cheap, right as you might say from my

is to have every thing wanting—(Pete, dear son, there was $89 coming to you, of the money you put in my

love—also my love to Mr & Mrs.

Nash the next time you go there—so good by for the present my darling son, & you must keep good heart

morning—have something of the kind pretty often—Still it seems certain I am improving, generally,—& that my

rec'd a letter from Chas Eldridge—& another from Walter Godey, the young man who is working for me as my

to-day—nothing particular—send the Herald Did I tell you that a doctor I have talked with here says my

alone & think, for two hours on a stretch—have not formed a single acquaintance here, any ways intimate—My

in the morning, & keeps me a good bed & room—All of which is very acceptable—(then, for a fellow of my

run foul of any)—Still I generally keep up very good heart—still think I shall get well—When I have my

have got a letter from Charley Towner—I am finishing this by the open window—still in the rooms where my

makes it just right—I have been out just a little, but was glad to get back—I am feeling tolerable, but my

out, in a few minutes' walk—I have had two or three quite good spells this week,—sufficient to arouse my

My appetite still holds out—& my sister cooks very nice, gets me what I want— Pete your letter of 8.

My brother Jeff has been on here this week from St. Louis—got in a car in St.

desk, from what I hear from my substitute —He writes me now & then—does my work very well, & more work

I have a great deal of pain in my head yet—no let up.

Farewell my loving son, till next time. Walt. I send a small bundle of papers.

My head has some bad spells, & a touch or more nearly every day, & my locomotion is still as clumsy as

am happy in not having any of those spasms of three weeks since, & indeed I have glimpses again of my

Louis, from my brother Jeff—I am very fond of it for breakfast, can eat it every day—(My appetite is

my love to Wash Milburn—I am writing this up in my room, 3 o'clock, pleasant weather, sun shining, window

Good bye for this time, my loving boy. Walt. Walt Whitman to Peter Doyle, 24 October [1873]

October 31 . 1873 1874 or 5 Dear boy Pete, My condition remains about the same—I don't get ahead any

to notice—but I hold my own, as favorable as I have stated in my late letters, & am free yet from the

Besides I think upon the whole, my general strength is the best it has been yet—for an interval every

Eldridge that he had paid Godey, my substitute, the money I sent on for his October pay.— Washington

Good bye for this time, my loving boy. Walt.

only 5 minutes from Philadelphia ferry, foot of Market st Department of Justice Washington. 187 I send my

Give them my address.—I shall be happy to hear from them. I saw Mrs.

Singing Thrush" (March 15, 1873, later called "Wandering at Morn"), "Spain" (March 24, 1873), "Sea Captains

days—I walk very clumsily yet, & do not try to get around by walking—but I think I am stronger now, & my

writing this over at the office—It is pleasant here, but cloudy & coolish—Mother, I suppose you got my

envelopes & I will send them—write whenever you can—I think I shall be able to soon give a good account of my

Washington: "walt if you think you cant get a house for us to live in dontdon't worry about me. i shall live my

Drinkard—he rubs the handles over my leg & thigh, for perhaps twenty minutes—the shock is very perceptible—it

not sure) it is Jule Mason —it is quite interesting—I am going to work for a couple of hours now at my

Please unlock the case where my books & pamphlets are in Mr.

The bad spells in my head continued at short intervals all through Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.

ready to have them, and pretty sick and sore and bad, especially in head, confusing me, and affecting my

I have rewritten my Will, with some slight changes and additions, and placed it in the pocket of my trunk

here. … Ate my breakfast like a man this morning.

My eyes gave out before through. . . .

My improvement is not much in the head troubles, & hardly any in my left leg, but very perceptible in

my strength & vim generally— & my confidence remains (still unaffected in the main, by all the tediousness

took, at my own price at once & sent me the money)—They are in type, and I have read the proofs.

So they are off my mind.

Nelly, my dear, I received your welcome letter last evening. I am waiting for the photos of my St.

Dear Sir, I am delighted to please you in so trifling a matter as signing the pictures for your—and my—English

My dear Rossetti, The bearer of this note is Col. Richard J.

I am perfectly satisfied with the selections from my poems—and feel grateful to you for your kindness

My address remains the same—Solicitor's Office, Treasury, here. W.W.

These must have been my Selections of American Poems in the series Moxon's Popular Poems. W.M.R."

. … My brother thinks (and I think so, too) that if you have not committed yourself, you could not do

Bielby, & Dear Doctor, I read the letter of Oct. 29, (full of good kindliness & sympathy—My general physique

still [ke]eps up, the battle with my [se]rious special cerebral ailment—& I think the physique will

yet carry the day—& that I shall come back to Washington, & see you all again—though my case is very

Bielby—will be in my room to-morrow, Wednesday, from 10 to 11 ½ forenoon—Will always be happy to have

Washington Feb. 8;—noon— (sitting up on the side of my bed.)

dear, dear sister Matty — O how I have been thinking of you, & shall all day—I have not now the use of my

Louis—I can but send you my love, dear, dear sister— Your unhappy, sorrowful, loving brother Walt Walt

I send you a paper same mail with this, containing a little piece that describes my case.

I have not forgotten you, my loving soldier boy, & never shall. Walt Whitman 322 Stevens st.

to substitute the services of the bearer Walter Godey , in the office, for the present, instead of my

I would ask you to put him at my desk and give him a trial—on some letters first, before giving him the

her—she was cheerful to a degree and at noon of the day she died sat up in her chair and directed how my

rocking chair by the stove— I have just eat some dinner, a little piece of fowl & some toast & tea— my

The doctor comes every day—(I must tell you again I have a first-rate doctor— I think he understands my

thinking all the time it was the day of Matty's funeral— Every few minutes all day it would come up in my

she had moved to Camden, Louisa Van Velsor Whitman complained to Helen Price: "i would rather have my

own shanty and my good friends come to see me" (Pierpont Morgan Library).

, 1873: "i wouldentwouldn't mind living here if i had a place of my own but this living with and not

I have not rec'd any letters for the last two days— I suppose you got my letter Saturday—I have been

Grier here is confident my principal trouble is cerebral anæmia (blood not properly going to the brain

it arises from a long continued excessive emotional action generally —& thinks it so has arisen in my

moonlight evening—It is bright & clear to-day, & rather hot—It is socially here an utter blank to me—my

dread of being bored by any one is now completely gratified with a vengeance—I look long & long at my

mother's miniature, & at my sister Mat's—I have very good one's of each—& O the wish if I could only

dear, I feel quite well to-day considering—in good spirits, & free from any pain—I suppose you got my

days, strong & sudden winds, & dust— but it is pleasanter to-day—it is now about ½ past 1—I have had my

Mother, I feel to-day as if I was getting well—(but my leg is so clumsy yet— & my head has to avoid much

along real well, upon the whole—I went out and over to the office yesterday— went in & sat down at my

desk a few minutes—It was my greatest effort yet, and I was afraid I had overshot the mark again, as

getting along all right—I am going out a little to-day, but not much— I feel now over the worst of my

bit of sickness, & comparatively comfortable— Poor Martha—the thoughts of her still come up in my mind

Price— Mother, I shall try to get out, & get my Feb. pay, I have to get it from the old office, & then

Since my letter of about three weeks since to Charles Eldridge—in which I wrote to you also —I have not

improved any—the distress in my head has not abated—some spells are very bad indeed—(but it fluctuates

Nor can I walk any better—some of the time, not so well—My saving points are pretty good nights' rest

gradually being pulled, and, though I have not at all given up hope of eventual recovery, I do not shut my

been waiting till I felt stronger, to go to Atlantic City (Jersey sea shore) or Long Island, but in my