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Thursday, November
29, 1888.
10 A. M. Thanksgiving Day. Doctor not yet over. Ed reported W. not up. Would stay in bed a
while longer. W. looking bad: is very pale, unrested. Speaks of himself as "sinking." All of us rather despondent. I wrote Bucke a dubious note,
expressing the hope that in the morning I might have better news. Called at Harned's. H. not at
home: took Anna along—going to church in the city. W. said this morning about eating:
"Give me nothing: send me a little something to
drink—coffee." Did not myself see W. Ed said: "Go in."
But I thought it best not.
11.30 A. M. Down again. Saw W. Had just got up. Took a cup of coffee—nothing more.
Spoke of himself as "in a poor way": "a little better than when in
bed." This
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did not last long. In the course of our talk he said:
"I feel better after all in bed." When I mentioned Osler he said: "I am glad you went, but I don't see that he can do anything for me: the
best course for me to follow is to get rest—just rest:—to lie down: for
lying down always seems somehow to restore me." "I feel so weak," he said again: "I cannot stand up—I have no equilibrium." Ed said W. dressed
himself but was most unsteady: would have fallen once if Ed had not caught him: another time
took to the bed "feeling like a stick of wood." This is the sensation
W. described to me. Yet his color is good. I told him so, but he seems to be afraid of
optimism. Had been reading papers—trying to: "it goes
hard," he said. The Press was on the table, The Record was in his hand. Cited the ruin up
the coast by the recent storms. Was sympathetically interested. W. made a comparison between
Ferguson's type letter and Osgood's: "It is a little more aristocratic:
finer in face: of more exquisite cast." Questioned about the book. "You don't go to Ferguson's to-day? Yes, yes, I see: it is a
holiday: but to-morrow take them." He reached back to the
table, produced an envelope containing Curtz's quaint slips for the complete Whitman. W. gave
me the copy for the label and a copy of the label. He had it all diagrammed out for Curtz and
besides drawing the design added these black ink directions: "for a label for back of book—the above (in blue pencil) is a
facsimile of
the size of back of book,
which you must get inside of. If
convenient set it up and bring me around a proof this afternoon." He thought Mrs. Davis
was having a poor Thanksgiving with him sick. She wanted W. to have some turkey. He said: "Practically nothing: very little at the most." I got up to go. Advised
Ed to make the bed, which he did, W. then at once lying down again, dressed. Letter from his
sister at Burlington, Vermont. Could stand no rubbing last night. Our anxiety is great. W.'s
manner with me markedly sweet—memorable. He refers quietly tenderly to the book. "So near port—in sight of port—
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and now!" He is anxious about the books. "If I get them
out why—well, then let happen what may."
3.15 P. M. Found Tom Donaldson in parlor: had had what he called an hour's talk with W. I did
not think it advisable for me to go up myself after that. Would wait till evening. Went over
the river with Donaldson, who had brought W. fruit and wine and taken away with him the ten
copies of November Boughs, which W. had got up (was lying down when Donaldson came) and
autographed. D. vociferous regarding W.'s strength—his ability to maintain himself
ten years yet. "Why, he 's hardly noticeably
sick at all!" W. brightened when D. arrived: when the reaction came D. was gone. Donaldson
with others are misled into believing W. almost well.
7.15. Again down. Osler had been over towards evening. Was not at all alarmed. I did not see
him. He instructed Mrs. Davis minutely how to reach him at certain hours should an emergency
arise: after all evidently fearing something. Will be over Saturday or Sunday anyhow. Advised:
keep W.'s bowels open: the tendency with him is to constipation: insure a pssage at least once
in every two days. Ed went up stairs through his room to W.'s. I followed. W. was standing up
leaning heavily on the bed, putting on his coat. He described Osler's visit at once. "Osler was over—came at last: Dr. Osler: he finds nothing to
excite alarm—thinks it mainly indigestion: that a day or two will restore me." I
looked at him. "I mean counted my pulse, questioned me—went
through all the technicalities: but—!" Which is a way he has of dismissing
doctors and doctrinaires. It was characteristic of him that, bad as he felt, with Ed standing
attentively near, and I with my hat in my hand, he arose from his sitting posture on the bed,
reached forward, leaned heavily against the wall, and turned the key in the door. "I want you two fellows here but I want to lock the rest of the world
out," he said. Then he went back to bed, very laboriously—lay down dressed.
Ed left the room. We talked some. He stayed where he
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was. Said he
had eaten nothing at all. "I have not even the suspicion of an appetite:
no hunger: absolutely none." Did no work. I showed him a portrait of Verestchagin with
Crucifixion and Sepoy pictures found in Harper's Weekly. "Leave
them," he said: "I much want to look at them: will do so to-morrow." Spoke pathetically of his entire helplessness. When I
said: "Should you ever need a Secretary, let me serve," he
fervently responded: "Bless you, my boy! I shall! I shall! I often feel
that I may yet have to call upon you." He said: "Donaldson was over
to-day: among other things he brought me a bottle of wine." I
asked: "Will you dare use it now?"
"Oh yes! I shall take some of it to-morrow!"
"Tom talked about Sheridan: told me new things: interested
me—cheered me: he knew Sheridan: caught glimpses, lights, not allowed those of us
who lived outside." I told W. what Donaldson had said of his prospects—of his
ten years yet. W. said: "Well, we 'll wait till
the ten years are over before we talk of that." Added, too: "Yesterday was a close call: I fully realize it."
Donaldson to-day spoke of Kennedy as "a
half-crazy curiosity." W. repeated the epithet to me and asked: "What do you make out of such a phrase? I don't see how it applies to Kennedy at all but
Donaldson was stubborn about it. When Ernest Rhys was here he met the Kennedys—came
to know them pretty well—probably met them often. Ernest called them 'shocks': that is, as I understand it, they were both afflicted with
nerves: which may be true—which is no crime, however unfortunate. For instance, it
can be illustrated in this way: one comes into the room, fixes all the things on the
mantelpiece, passes out: then another comes along, takes everything that was just put up down
again, putting something else in place of it. Rhys seems to have seen that sort of thing going
on—came to extreme conclusions regarding it: called them the nervousest couple he
had ever met. But how unimportant all that is: Kennedy does not begin and end with such an
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incident. Then Kennedy had some objections to Rhys: I also heard them:
Rhys was selfish—rode over people: was arbitrary. Well, maybe some of that was true,
too: but that again is not the whole of Rhys: he is more than that. As I see more of Sloane I
am impressed with his strong, remarkable, moral nature—his moral, intellectual
nature, I may call it: and when I speak of his moral nature I don't mean morals but that
highest something which makes life steadfast and ample. Of all things in Kennedy that moral
entity appeals to me most surely—is most convincing: his honesty, his love of truth:
perhaps honesty alone would say it—honesty with all that it implies: the fellow who
at the last is found not to deflect from the truth—from thinking truth, uttering
truth, being truthful."
W. spoke of O'Connor: "William is all gentleman: however strong,
however impetuous, however overwhelming, never a bragger, never a boaster: always gentleman:
always." And of Harned: "Harned stands for force: he is a man's man:
he is frankly, almost brutally, honest: goes his own way: gets down on his knees to
nobody." Corning in but did not see W. W. shows his renewal of vigor in his voice and in
his greater alertness. W. handed me as I left a letter from what I call his "amen" corner. "We were in much distress of mind about George at that time: my dear mother
was terribly exercised: she was heroic, loyal, uncompromising: but she loved
George—was profoundly disturbed over the mystery of his movements, whereabouts."
"Did you mean for me to read or keep this?"
"Both: it will interest you to read: as to keeping it, well, it embodies
a piece of history: it is likely to be safer in your keeping than in my own: so you had better
take it along." The envelope was postmarked New York. W.'s inquiry comes first. Cook
answers on the same sheet of paper.
Washington, Feb. 27, 1865.
Captain:
Could you give me a little further information about my brother Capt. George W. Whitman
51st New
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York, who gave you the slip you sent from Annapolis Feb
19 with his and mother's address, Feb 14th?—Why did not he, and the other
officers, 51st N. Y. come up with the main body, for exchange?—were the other
officers 51st there at Danville, time you left?—Please tell me all you know, or
think probable, on this subject of why they did not come. Have they been sent further
south, to avoid exchanging them, or are they still at Danville?—
Was
my brother
really well
& hearty—was
Lieut. Sam'l Pooley, 51st N.Y. there, & how was he?—Do you know whether
my brother got letters & boxes we sent him?—Was he in the attempt to
escape, Dec. 10, last?—My dear Sir, if you could take a leisure half hour and
write me,
soon as possible,
what you know on these or other points
relating to my brother, it would deeply oblige me—
Address—
Walt Whitman
Washington, D. C.
New York Feb. 28th, 1865.
Dear Sir:
I have just received the letter on the back of which I am writing. Your brother is now, I
have no doubt, in Annapolis, awaiting his leave of absence, unless, as some of my brother
officers did, he donned citizen's costume and made tracks for home before receiving it.
With me, only nine other officers were exchanged, but a few days after I reached Annapolis,
all that were in Danville, or had been there rather, arrived in town also. They came in two
batches, the 23rd and 24th I think. I knew quite a number of officers in the 51st, all of
whom came to Annapolis. They were quartered either in the hotels or in the hospitals; not
in the latter from illness so much as because the town could furnish no more
accommodations. I do not remember your brother, but I have no doubt that his indisposition
if it exists at all is such as plentiful food and pure air will remove at once. While
almost all of us were weak and slightly ailing as I may say, almost none of us were
seriously affected. I venture to suggest that a letter addressed Care of Dr. Vander-
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kuft, Surg. U. S. Army, in charge of General Hospital, might
reach your brother sooner than if it bore his name only. You will hear so soon from your
brother that it will not be worth while for me to answer your other questions, except to
say that the Danville Prison was emptied of officers and that they are all in Annapolis.
There I left them at least the 25th.
Very respectfully,
William Cook
Capt. 19th U.S.C.T.
92 W. 10th
New York.
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