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minnesota Wright Co Howard Lake may 12 1874 Walt Whitman my dear friend I received yours dated April

be good for your the there are some comming coming from the different Stats states for their health. my

friend Whitman I love you when I think of the kindness you shew show to me my heart is swelled with

gratitude to you may the lord preserve you and giv give you a home in heaven my friend i have bin been

in a bad stat state of health for 10 months I have the dropsy of the heart I am getting better & my

Howard Lake June 28, 1874 My Dear Friend I Receivied received your kind & Most Welcome Letter A Short

Well My Health I But Verry Very little Better But If I Had Stayed In W Va West Virginia dont don't Suppose

when I went In the army I had a Com fortable Home Was a good Lover My Mother Leives Lives In My Father

Not Seen Her For 8 year My Brothers & Sisters Lives too I Will Close My letter By Saying I Hope you

kindness And Care to me My Children Sends their Love to you Now My Dear Friend I Hope you will write

Newark, New Jersey June 21st, 1874 My Dear Friend Your Letters & papers came duly at hand.

I left New York in Oct. 1868, and me and my Brother started A Milk Depot here And we until the Spring

When we separated and I commenced to Paddle my own Canoe: I have A small route And keep A Depot.

Enclosed you will find A Card which my friends say resembles your Humble Servant Very Much you shall

I suppose this is your last production: My Best Wishes from your friend, William H.

My father & mother is still living in Bridgeville But myself & my little Family live near the capital

I am alone at home, with my brothers—Papa & Mother are gone visiting to Uncle John's Father's-in-law.

Whitman My Dear Sir I received your letter on the 8 , & was very glad to hear from you.

You asked about my Grand-Mother, she is alive, but, I cannot say well.

I attended an Academy last winter, but, my teacher went away, so I stopped going there We are having

I would send you my picture but I want you to come & see me myself. & very much Oblidge Oblige Your loving

From the first I found it necessary to systematize my doings, and, among other things, always kept little

note-books for impromptu jottings in pencil to refresh my memory of names and circumstances and what

But before entering on my personal memoranda of the war, I have one or two thoughts to ventilate before

ABRAHAM LINCOLN—MY FIRST SIGHT AND IMPRESSION OF HIM.

It reads: 'I cannot survive the loss of the liberties of my country.'") THE EVE OF A LONG WAR.

Here is another characteristic scene of the dark and bloody year 1863, from notes of my visit to Armory

(I think I see my friends smiling at this confession, but I was never more in earnest in my life.)

A GLIMPSE FROM MY NOTES.

I can say that in my ministerings I comprehended all and slighted none.

It has given me my plainest and most fervent views of the true ensemble and extent of the States.

MY VISITS AND DISTRIBUTIONS.

Looking from any eminence and studying the topography in my rambles, I use them as landmarks.

I have already distributed quite a large amount of money, put in my hands for that purpose by benevolent

I regularly carry a haversack with me, and my coat has two of the biggest kind of pockets. [ To be Continued

Tennyson, It is a long time since my last to you.

illness—some three months, afterward was recovering at Washington, when called here by the death of my

To-day, a cloudy & drizzly Sunday, I have taken it in my head, sitting here alone & write—follow the

letter of May 14 has come to hand to-day, reminding me of your being in Armory Square Hospital & of my

I send you my love, & to your dear children & wife the same.

it is just comfort enough to be together, almost without any thing else)— I remain about the same in my

red, (though looking now very old & gray, but that is nothing new)—weigh 185 now—am badly lamed in my

am well situated here—but very lonesome —have no near friends, (in the deepest sense) here at hand—my

Jersey Friday afternoon Jan January 30, 2 o'clock Dear Pete, I am having another of my bad spells to-day—but

folks, every one I know—I am feeling as well as usual, as I finish this letter—Good bye for this time my

Dear boy Pete, Both your letters came this week—also one from my friend Eldridge, he too speaks of meeting

with snow, as I look out—not the least thaw to-day, as it is cloudy—I rise pretty late mornings—had my

mutton-chop, coffee, nice brown bread & sweet butter, very nice—eat with very fair appetite—I enjoy my

the same as before described—no worse, no better, (nothing to brag of anyhow) I have mentioned about my

Pete I thought I would send you a little change enclosed—all I have by me to-day—(but I have plenty at my

with the frogs & lilacs in the spring—I keep a bully good heart, take it altogether—& you must too my

Monthly just out (February)—shall have another in the March number —Can't seem to do, without occupying my

day—nights are worst for me—I cant can't rest well—has been so now for a month—But I must not fill my

letter with my complaints—To-day is just a Year, since I was paralyzed, (23 d Jan.

January '73)—What a year it has been to me—Good bye my loving boy—write me all the news & gossip.

—Still I go out some, though very stiff—& lately some spells in my head rather bad & queer.

What I have said in former letters about my general strength still holds good—otherwise I am in a bad

April 10, 12 M Dear Pete, 74 Nothing very new or different in my condition, or any thing else—have hardly

Not much of a letter this time, my loving boy—as I dont don't seem to be able to write much—though, as

July 10 1875 Dear, dear son, I am still here—still suffering pretty badly—have great distress in my head

, & an almost steady pain in left side—but my worst troubles let up on me part of the time—the evenings

Eldridge to see to the sending on here of my boxes at Dr. Whites.

Pete didn't you get my last Saturday's postal card? I wrote you one.

I got yours last Monday—Did you get the Camden paper with my College piece in? I sent one.

Dear son, I send you my letter a day ahead this week —Nothing new with me—rec'd the letter of last Sunday—also

I am still the same—am all alone in the house to-day, as my brother has gone to New York & my sister

Jersey , Dec. 3—noon Dear Pete, Dear son, I am getting over my late bad spell—I have been very sick indeed

, the feeling of death & dizziness, my head swimming a great deal of the time—turning like a wheel—with

expected—& shall go out, or try to, to-day, as it is very pleasant—You must not be needlessly alarmed, my

partially well & strong enough—The doctor is quite encouraging—comes every day—& I feel a good heart yet—My

paper—I have some spurts of visits, & company—but very little that goes to the right spot, with me—my

Dear boy Pete, Nothing particular or new in my condition—I have been to the Doctor's to-day—had quite

Good bye my loving son. I will try to do better next week.

Well Pete, my dear loving boy, I have just come in from a 15 minutes walk outside, with my little dog—it

Philadelphia you think I would like to see, give 'em my address—I am glad to see most any one for a change

I am very much the same—My being disabled & want of Exercise for 16 months, (and many other wants too

what the doctor calls gastric catarrh, very obstinate, causing me really more suffering & pain than my

I have bad spells enough, thank God I also have middling good ones—& as I write this have just had my

Washington to New York, & so was some in hopes of seeing you in Philadelphia)— No change in my condition

or prospects—the young man, Walter Godey, still works as my substitute in the Solicitor's office—I havn't

—My sister has just called me to my dinner—so I will close for this time.

sunny to-day here, though middling cool—I am sitting here in the parlor alone—it is about 10—I have had my

off—they go by constantly—often one right after another—I have got used to them & like them— —Did you see my

Nash—& to Parker & Wash Milburn—& in short to all my friends— Your old Walt Walt Whitman to Peter Doyle

Jersey, Feb 20–1874 Friday afternoon—2½ Dear boy Pete, Well Pete, dear son, I have just had my dinner

(stewed chicken & onions—good,) & here I sit again in the same old chair, in the parlor, writing my

time comes— Have not written any for publication the past fortnight—have not felt at all like writing—My

—I have a poem in the March Harper —as I believe I mentioned in my last.

Take care of yourself my darling boy— Your old Walt, as always.

feeling quite an improvement, or let up, the last two days & nights on the bad spell I spoke of in my

think if I was fixed so that I had you with me every day, I should get well—good bye for this week, my

My dear Reid, Hasn't this got vim enough—from your point of view, even as editor of the paper—to make

one could fail then [during the War] to admire his zeal and devotion, and I am afraid that at first my

My books, Leaves of Grass , Passage to India Democratic Vistas &c. will be duly dispatched to-night or

previously published in Leaves of Grass, "Passage to India" was Whitman's attempt to "celebrate in my

My dear Marvin, Your letter of 13th has reached me.

I should have made my visit the current week, but one of my bad spells has intervened —will write to

O'Kane has undoubtedly sent you all the copies of my books remaining in his possession—he received originally

And since then he has delivered about 30 Leaves of of Grass to my order—leaving only 30 or 40 more to

As said in my note, you now, (with the exception of about 350 copies of As A Strong Bird , which are

at my printer's in N.Y., & which I can send you an order for,) you now have my books in the market.

Strong Bird on store in N.Y., which I can send you an order for, if you wish, at once.) you have all my

I am not sure you will remember me, or my occasional salute to you, in Washington.

Dear Pete, Here I am yet, in my big chair in the parlor—I am up & around, but not very well—I am having

O'Connor— I have no doubt I shall feel better—my sickness comes & goes—& my relief spells the same—I

me a long time, & which I had quite given up—which puts me in better spirits—good bye for present, my

Comparing your rec't receipt of my books from Doolady , April 28, '73 (239 Leaves of Grass, &c.

&c)—with the of books handed over by you to Butts (168 Leaves of Grass, &c &c)—see my last letter to

Deduct 25 copies sent to Boston by my order, & 3 copies to Graphic , leaves 43 copies (@ $1.40) to be

edition you got of Shephard, four or five weeks ago—with the remaining copies (if any) of the 25 sent by my

I have somewhere between 300 & 350 of my little book of later poems, "As a Strong Bird on Pinions free

If you care to have the sole & exclusive command of all my books in existence, take this offer.

I am sick & paralyzed—a tedious prospect still before me—& should be glad to have the books off my hands

With Walt Whitman in Camden in 1889: "What a sweat I used to be in all the time . . . over getting my

previously published in Leaves of Grass, "Passage to India" was Whitman's attempt to "celebrate in my

Clark Dear Sir, In answer to your note I send enclosed a copy of my poem for Tuft's College on the 17th—which

My dear Rudolf Schmidt , As you have rec'd received my letter of April 25, you know that the copies of

Commencement Poem to a College near Boston city—the College is the headquarters of the Universalists—my

I intend to send Kristian Elster a copy of my poems, & my photograph—how shall I address him?

criticism—when it comes I shall have it carefully translated to me—if you communicate with him, please give him my

Clausen, who Rudolf Schmidt called "my old friend and countryman," corresponded with Schmidt after he

Dear Rudolf Schmidt The Danish edition Demokratiske Fremblik , of my Democratic Vistas , has reached

I suppose you rec'd received my letter from here of Jan. 25—about my illness, paralysis—(& the papers

Tribune , with a poem, (my latest,) Prayer of Columbus So you will see I cannot desist from writing,

Don't fail, my dear friend, to write me at least as soon as you return.

Graphic ) with acc't account of my illness —also February Harper's , and the , by this mail—I like to

Jan. 25, '74 My dear Rudolf Schmidt , Your letter of Jan. 2 has just reached me here.

I have been at death's door myself—& during the year have lost my dear mother & a dear sister by death

probably get well again—But I remain paralyzed yet—walk with difficulty & very little—have bad spells in my

If so, give him my address, & tell him to come & see me.

America (I have not given up my place in the Solicitor's office, Washington—but keep up communication

My dear Rudolf Schmidt , My lonesomeness & sickness here, (for I am still sick, & here,) have been much

rejoiced to–day today by my getting your good & copious letter of 28th February, on your return to Kopenhagen

copies Demokratiske Fremblik , & one copy in sheets—also three copies picture paper Folkeblad , with my

Tribune ) my two latest pieces Song of the Redwood Tree , (California,) and Prayer of Columbus , which

the head—walk hardly any, (from the paralysis,) but maintain good spirits, keep up in body & face, (my

March 29, 1874: "It seemed hard to see the great man afflicted, bowed down, and I could not suppress my

Grier on June 2, 1874: "He reiterated his theory that my sufferings, (later ones) come nearly altogether

the very great distress & pain I have been under in breast & left side, & pit of stomach, & thence to my

begin the use of an injection syringe, (Fountain No. 2. tepid water for clysters)—was favorable to my

the Attorney General that in any changes in the Solicitor Treasury's office, I be not disturbed in my

position as clerk in that office—all my duties to the government being & having been thoroughly & regularly

performed there, by a substitute, during my illness.

Sir: Yours of June 30, informing me of the necessity of terminating my services in the Solicitor's office

Thanks for your letter, statement of acc't. account , of my books Leaves of Grass &c. which have just

Forty One Dollars, fifty-four cents, on acc't of sales of my books, in 1873.

plate are ready —I shall be coming along—will send you word when— I have hardly any thing to tell about my

Johnson one with the greatest pleasure—(it is one of Brady's photos)—I wish you to give my best respects

inaction—but upon the whole not so severely—& I think very decidedly gradually growing less—The worst is my

—(Unfortunately it was, however, at a time when I was feeling almost at my worst.)

Christmas Graphic " —(comes out in a week or so,) in which I say a brief word about Emerson— To eke out my

All other books seem to me weak and unworthy my attention.

I read, Sunday, to my wife, Longfellows verses on Sumner, in the last Atlantic, and then I read your

paper—I have thought much of it, through the interesting account you gave—Indeed death has been much in my

Graphic first number just out—ask Charley to get it for you—In my next—anent of Bull Run—I mention Mrs