are grumbling that they have had enough & too much of Carlyle & _his_
grumblings and sarcasms. But he is an inexhaustibly interesting figure to
me, & will remain so in the long run to the world, I am persuaded. It
grieves me that he should have been so cruelly unjust to himself as a
husband--that remorse, those bitter self-reproaches, were undeserved, were
altogether morbid: he was not only an infinitely better husband than she
was wife: he was wonderfully affectionate & tender & just--& as to his
temper & irritable nerves, she knew what she was about when she married
him. Herby was walking through the British Museum the other day with a
friend when a group, a ready-made picture, struck him--it was a young
student-sculptress, a graceful girl high on a pile of boxes modelling in
clay a copy of an antique statue, & standing below, looking up at her, was
a young sculptor in his blouse, criticising her work with much animation &
gesture; the background of the group, a part of the Elgin Marbles. So this
is what Herby is painting & I think he will make a very jolly little
picture out of it. I have been much a prisoner to the house with bad colds
ever since I returned from Wolverhampton, but am beginning to get out
again--which puts new life into me. I have never envied anything in this
world but a man's strong legs & powers of tramping, tramping, over hill &
dale as long as he pleases--legs would content me and a sound breathing
apparatus! I am in no hurry for wings. Giddy's voice, too, is just now
eclipsed by cold.
I hope you have escaped this evil and are able to jaunt to & fro on the
ferries as freely as ever. And I hope the pleasant Quaker friends are
well--and Mr. & Mrs. Whitman and Hattie & Jessie--there is a fellow
student of Giddy's at the Guild Hall music school who so reminds her of
Hattie.
Love from us all, dear friend. Most from me.
ANNE GILCHRIST.
LETTER LXXIII
ANNE GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_Keats Corner
Hampstead, England
Feb. 27, '85._
DEAREST FRIEND:
How has the winter passed with you I wonder? Me it has imprisoned very
much with bronchial & asthmatic troubles--and the four walls of the house
& the ceiling seem to close in upon one's spirit as well as one's body,
all too much. I hope you have been able to wend to and fro daily on the
great ferry boats & enjoy the beautiful broad river & the sky & the
throngs of people as of old--you are in my thoughts as constantly as ever,
though I have been so silent. Percy & his wife & the little son spent some
weeks with us at Christmas & now they have taken a house quite near, into
which they will be moving in a week or two. I can't tell you what a dear,
affectionate, reasonable, companionable little fellow Archie is--now six
years old. Perhaps you will have seen in the American papers that Sidney
Thomas, the cousin with whom Percy was associated in the discovery of the
Basic process, is dead--he spent his strength too freely--wore himself out
at 35--he was much loved by all with whom he had to do. His mother &
sister have been watching & hoping against hope & taking him to warm
climates, he himself full of hope--the mind bright and active to the
last--& now he is gone--& his eldest brother died only two months before
him.--I cannot help grieving over public affairs too--never in my lifetime
has old England been in such a bad way--no honest & capable man seemingly
to take the helm--& what Carlyle was fond of describing as the attempt to
guide the ship by the shouts of the bystanders on shore--the newspapers
&c. prospering very ill. A government that tries perpetually how to do it
and how not to do it at the same moment! The best comfort is that I do not
think there is any, the smallest sign, of deterioration in the English
race; so we shall pull through somehow, after tremendous disasters. How
many things should I like to sit and chat with you about, dear Walt--above
all to see you again! I could not get my article into any of the magazines
I most wished. I believe it is coming out in _To-Day_. Giddy was so
pleased at your sending her a paper--a very capital article too it is of
Miss Kellogg. I was interested also in a little paragraph I found about
Pullman town, near Chicago, which confirmed my suspicion that it was not a
thing with healthy roots--but only a benevolent despotism. I am seeing a
good deal of your socialists just now--& I confess that though they mean
well, I think they have less sense in their heads than any people I ever
saw.
I am going to pay a little visit to those friends (friendliest of friends)
who live on the lonely top of a heath-covered hill--with such an outlook,
such wooded slopes and broad valleys--and the storms travelling up hours
before they arrive--such sweeps of sunshine too!--& they mean to drive me
about till I am quite strong again. So the next letter I write, dear
Friend, shall be more cheery. I am afraid to look back lest this one
should read too grumbly to send. I don't feel grumbly however--only shut
in. Herby has been working hard at getting up an exhibition here to help
along our Public Library. It is so very hard to stir up anything like
public spirit & unity of action in London or its suburbs--I suppose
because of its vastness--& alas! also the social cliques & gentilities &
snobbishnesses. Good-bye, dearest Walt, with love from all.
ANNE GILCHRIST.
LETTER LXXIV
ANNE GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_Hampstead
May 4, '85._
MY DEAREST FRIEND:
Delays of Editors--there is no end to them! I am promised now that the
art. shall appear in the June No., & if it does I will send you at once
the number of copies you name. And if it does not, I think I had best get
it back & have done with the editors of _To-day_ & try for some other &
better opening again.
I have been reading & re-reading & pondering over Froude's 9 vols of
Carlyle--"The Reminiscences," "Letters," &c. &c.--and am pretty well at
boiling point with indignation against Froude--boiling point of anger &
freezing point of contempt. His betrayal at every point of a sacred trust!
lazy, slip-shod editing! not even taking the pains to put letters and
their answers together--but printing the one in 1882 & the others three or
four years after--so that half the meaning and all the _mutuality_ of the
letters are lost! And then the sly malignity of the comments with which
they are preceded! If I live I will do my utmost to expose all this & to
show that Mrs. Carlyle was no injured heroine, nor he a selfish &
neglected husband. Both had their faults, but the balance of affection &
tenderness was largely on his side, as well as of other great qualities:
though I like her too--& think she would have scorned Froude's ignoble
championship.
Herby has had rather better luck with his pictures this year. Has
one--"The Sculptor's Lesson"--fairly well hung at the Royal Academy--where
it shines out very cheerfully & holds its own modestly, I may say without
maternal vanity. I think I described to you the little bit of actual life
it depicts--a young girl he saw at the British Museum modelling a copy of
an antique statue & young sculptor in his blouse standing below & giving
her some animated criticism--a little bit of the Elgin marbles in the
background. Herb. has also a little picture he calls "Midsummer"--a bit of
a very old & buttressed wall hung with roses in full bloom, & Giddy's
figure standing above--at the Grosvenor. Now if he has the luck to sell
too! He has a commission also to paint a small portrait of me for our
friends at Marley, on which he is busy just now. As soon as he has a
little spare money in his pocket I think his first use of it will be a run
across the Atlantic & a glimpse of you, dear Friend. Giddy is going to
sing at a Soiree of socialists & revolutionary folk in general on
Wednesday. Her songs are to be "The Wearing of the Green"--& "Poland
Dirge" & the "Marseillaise". You will think we are getting pretty red hot!
But alas! though our sympathy with the Cause--the cause of suffering
millions--is warm, our faith in the wisdom & ability of those who are
aspiring to be the leaders, so far as we know anything of them--is
infinitesimal.
What a burst of beauty we have had during the last ten days! We look out
just now on a sea of apple & pear blossoms, from the deepest pink to
dazzling white--& the tenderest green intermingled with all. I hope you
are able to be out nearly all day & enjoy all--and that home affairs go
smoothly & comfortably & that Mrs. Davis[42] is attentive & good & every
way adequate as care-taker.
I am looking forward very much to the "After Songs" and "Letters of
Parting". Does the sale of "Leaves of Grass" continue pretty steady? I
look forward with a sort of dread to seeing my article in proof, lest I
should feel very disappointed with it.
Your loving friend,
A. GILCHRIST.
Do you ever see or hear from Mr. Marvin? He is a favourite with all of us.
Do you remember how we laughed at his dramatic presentation of a negro
prayer meeting?
LETTER LXXV
ANNE GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_Hampstead, London
Jan. 21, 85._
MY DEAREST FRIEND:
I hope the _To-days_ have come safe to hand. I am thinking a great deal
about the new edition; and cannot help hoping you are going to revert to
the plan of the Centennial Edition, which issued your writings in two
independent volumes. May I, without being presumptuous, dear Walt, tell
you how I should dearly like to see them arranged? I want "Crossing
Brooklyn Ferry," "Song at Sunset," "Song of the Open Road," "Starting from
Paumanok," "Carol of Words," "Carol of Occupations" and either as "As I
Sat by Blue Ontario's Shore" or the Preface to edit. 55 put into "Two
Rivulets"--you could make room for them that the volumes might balance in
size by making them exchange places with the "Centennial Songs" and the
"Memoranda During the War"; not that these are not precious to me, but I
want it dearest because I want in the Two Rivulet Volume what will best
prepare the reader, lift him up to the true point of view, and make him
all your own, before he comes to the inner sanctuary of "Calamus" & "Walt
Whitman" & "Children of Adam."
Monday morn. Your letter just to hand. It gives me deep joy, dear Friend.
I have sent copies of _To-Day_ to Dr. Bucke & John Burroughs but did not
know of his change of address; so fear it has miscarried. I will send
another, and also one to W. O'Connor.--You did not tell me about your
fall--unless indeed a letter has been lost. It fills me with concern
because of the difficulty it increases in getting that free out-door life
that is so dear & essential to your soul & body, and because, too, I still
cherished in my heart a hope that I should yet see you again--here in my
own home--& now it seems next to an impossibility. Right thankful am I to
hear about Mrs. Davis--that she takes good care of you--please give her a
friendly greeting from me. I am going to have rather a bothersome
summer--first of all, the house full of workmen to make all clean & tidy;
& then my Scotch lassie, friend & factotum rather than servant, must have
a holiday & go to her friends in Scotland for a month. I shall heartily
welcome your friend, no need to say, & be sure to like her. Love from
Grace & Herb. & most of all from me. I have plenty more to say but won't
delay this.
Good-bye, dear Walt.
ANNE GILCHRIST.
LETTER LXXVI
ANNE GILCHRIST TO WALT WHITMAN
_12 Well Rd., Hampstead, Eng.
July 20, '85._
MY DEAREST FRIEND:
A kind of anxiety has for some time past weighed upon me and upon others,
I find, who love & admire you, that you do not have all the comforts you
ought to have; that you are perhaps sometimes straightened for means. We
have had letters from several young men, almost or quite strangers to us,
asking questions on this subject; and we hoped & thought that if this were
so, you would permit those who have received such priceless gifts from you
to put their gratitude into some tangible shape, some "free-will
offering." Hence the paragraph was put into the _Athenaeum_ which I send
with this, and we were proceeding to organize our forces when your paper
came to hand this morning (the _Camden Post_, July 3), which seems
decisively to bid us desist. Or at all events wait till we had told you of
our wishes and plan. One thing would, I feel sure, give you pleasure in
any case; and that is to know that there is over here a little
band--perhaps indeed it is now quite a considerable one, for we had not
yet had time to ascertain how considerable--who would joyfully respond to
that Poem of yours, "To Rich Givers."
A friend and near neighbour of ours, Frederick Wedmore, is coming over to
America this autumn, and counts much on coming to see you. He is a
well-known writer on Art here--a friendly, candid, open-minded man with
whom, I think, you will enjoy a talk.
I am on the lookout for Miss Smith[43]--shall indeed enjoy a talk with a
special friend of yours, dear Walt. I hope she will not fail to come.
Giddy is away at Haslemere. Herby just going to write for himself to you.
That is a very graphic bit in the _Post_--the portrait of Hugo, the canary
& the kitten--I like to know all that--as well as to hear the talk.
My love, dear Walt.
ANNE GILCHRIST.
So far as can be ascertained this is the last letter. Anne Gilchrist died
Nov. 29th, 1885.
THE END
THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.
Footnotes:
[1] Reprinted from the _Radical_ for May, 1870.
[2] Reprinted from "Anne Gilchrist, Her Life and Writings," by her son
Herbert H. Gilchrist--London, 1887.
[3] Reprinted from Horace Traubel's "With Walt Whitman in Camden," I,
219-220. Although addressed to Rossetti, this letter is evidently intended
as much for Mrs. Gilchrist, whose name was not at this time known to
Whitman.
[4] Alexander Gilchrist.
[5] Mrs. Gilchrist's emotion here apparently prevents her memory from
doing complete justice to her own past. For a very different expression of
her feelings toward Alexander Gilchrist, written at the time of her
betrothal, see her letter announcing the engagement which she sent to her
friend, Julia Newton, and which is to be found on pp. 30-31 of her son's
biography.
[6] William Michael Rossetti.
[7] To W. M. Rossetti. See _ante_, p. x.
[8] First printed in Horace Traubel's "With Walt Whitman in Camden," III,
513.
[9] Evidently meaning the letter of September 3d.
[10] Missing.
[11] Percy Carlyle Gilchrist who became an inventive metallurgist.
[12] Herbert Harlakenden Gilchrist, who became an artist.
[13] Printed from copy retained by Whitman.
[14] To deliver his Dartmouth College ode.
[15] William Douglas O'Connor, an ardent Washington friend of Whitman.
[16] John Burroughs, the naturalist, then a young author and disciple of
Whitman.
[17] Anne Gilchrist's son.
[18] Horace Greeley, nominated by the Democrats as their candidate for the
Presidency.
[19] Burlington, Vermont, where Whitman's sister, Mrs. Heyde, lived.
[20] Henry M. Stanley, African Explorer.
[21] Undated. Made up from copy among Whitman's papers. This letter
evidently belongs to the summer of 1873.
[22] The "Prayer of Columbus" was first published in _Harper's Magazine_
in March, 1874.
[23] John Cowardine. See "Anne Gilchrist, Her Life and Writings," pp. 149
ff.
[24] Daughters of Thomas Jefferson Whitman.
[25] Mrs. George Whitman.
[26] Sister.
[27] Niece.
[28] Sidney Morse, the sculptor.
[29] "Man's Moral Nature," by Dr. Richard Maurice Bucke.
[30] This extract (?) is taken from H. H. Gilchrist's "Anne Gilchrist," p.
252. It is undated, but it is clearly a reply to the foregoing letter from
Mrs. Gilchrist.
[31] Durham Cathedral.
[32] Anne Gilchrist's grandchild.
[33] Reproduced in "Anne Gilchrist, Her Life and Writings," facing p. 253.
[34] Richard Watson Gilder.
[35] Of Timber Creek, Camden County, New Jersey, whose hospitality helped
Whitman to improve his health.
[36] The second edition of Alexander Gilchrist's "William Blake."
[37] Because of the death of her daughter Beatrice.
[38] Whitman's London publisher.
[39] Dr. Bucke, in his "Life of Whitman," had reprinted at the end of the
volume many criticisms of the poet, adverse as well as favourable;
likewise W. D. O'Connor's "Good Gray Poet."
[40] Edward Dowden, of the University of Dublin.
[41] Artists, famous for their etchings. Mr. Pennell made several etchings
for Dr. Bucke's biography of Whitman.
[42] Mrs. Mary Davis, who was Whitman's housekeeper until his death.
[43] Daughter of Pearsall Smith, of Philadelphia.