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Walter Whitman My Dear Friend: After the laps lapse of over 8 years, & to let you know that your memory

is yet fresh in my mind; I am mooved moved to write you this letter—I Came to this state after being

My health is not good & has not been since I was in the army—My family is well, & children going to school

March 19, 1873 Walt Whitman Dear friend, By my sister Nell's request I send you today by mail the best

copy I could find of my Medical Electricity.

more pretentious books, published by medical electricilians electricians in this country who have made my

I wrote to my sister my haunting fear that you might use electricity prematurely & incautiously & I rejoiced

I for one have felt my indebtedness to you for great thoughts & words more than ever before.

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."

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

Trübner & Company, Dear Sirs, Please make out acc't account of sales of my books, Leaves of Grass &c.

for the closing year, & remit me am't amount due, by mail here, by draft payable to my order.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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

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

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 &

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

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

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

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]

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

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

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.

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

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 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

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 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

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

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

it over & over again —it is very, very good—so much about your dear mother , it brought the tears to my

eyes, & I had to stop many times—my dear, dear Sister Martha , she must have suffered so much, & to

got just well enough to go out, in a carriage, but, dear Hattie, I am in a miserable condition, as to my

power of moving—The doctor says I shall get well, but it is very, very slow and irksome—my mind is clear

Louis are addressed wrong)—My right address is Walt Whitman Solicitor's office Treasury, Washington,

long—to-day I have been sadly pestered with visitors—every thing goes well with me, except the slowness of my

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

to-day—I feel so bad about Mat—I am still improving—but slowly though I realize some improvement every day—my

about the 1st of next month—I am getting along favorably, they all say, but have frequent distress in my

head, & my leg is clumsy as ever—I am writing this in the office at my desk—I send some papers to-day

May 9, 1873, Louisa Van Velsor Whitman said: "walter dontdon't send any more papers as i cant read. my

feeble, and have distress in the head—these are the worst features—but am gradually regaining the use of my

written a short letter to Hannah , & also one to Jeff —which they must have rec'd by this time— I keep up my

I am still anchored here in my bed—I am sitting up now on the side—Mrs.

nerves) they say it must not be applied, for it will do more harm than good, might cause convulsions—My

I wrote to Jeff yesterday—I send you Harper's Weekly , mother, it is quite interesting—I still hold my

mind about getting a house here & shall certainly do so —At present my great hope is to get well, to

get so I can walk, & have some use of my limbs—I can write, pretty well, and my mind is clear, but I

cannot walk a block, & have no power to do any thing, in lifting or moving any thing in my room, or

Later a board of inquiry attributed the disaster to dereliction of duty on the part of the captain.

sit up several times during the day now, for a few minutes at a time—am gradually gaining the use of my

as I am lying here—I have not written to Han since I had the paralysis—Mother, you might send one of my

letters to her, Han , when you next write—(this one, or any)—Say I sent my love, & will be up before

letter Tuesday—I am about the same—I have not gone over to the office to-day, & am writing this in my

room—mother, I send only $15 in this—will send the other 5 in my next—Write and send me word, soon as

ups and downs—but steadily advance, quite certain, though very slowly—I seem to have a bad cold in my

are both very helpful to me—one comes day time, & one evening—I had a good night's sleep last night—My

mind is just as clear as ever—& has been all the time—(I have not been at all down hearted either)—(My

it—I shall be getting well soon—am on a fair way to it now— latest ½ past 4 I have just set up & had my

'73 Friday morning—9 o'clock Dearest mother, The sun shines out bright & cheerful this morning—& in my

first sick) —I think I am feeling better to-day, & more like myself—I have been in the habit of soaking my

cold—so I have stopt stopped it, & I have a notion I feel better from stopping it— —I have just had my

here, rooms enough to live in for you & Ed and me —I realize it more, far more now, than ever—even for my

with a shed kichen with no fireplace in the house except in the kichen. . . . what do you think of my

I have had a slight stroke of paralysis, on my left side, and especially the leg—occurred Thursday night

last, & I have been laid up since—I am writing this in my room, 535 15th st as I am not able to get

out at present—but the Doctor gives me good hopes of being out and at my work in a few days—He says it

days, but am to-day eating better—I wrote to Mat early last week— Later —I have been sitting up eating my

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

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

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

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

I rec'd your letter, dear mother—you may rest assured that I write the exact facts about my sickness—I

window looking out on the river & scenery—it is beautiful weather now—they have sent over & paid me 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

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