... Commenced putting
"Leaves of Grass" to press, for good--after many MSS. doings and
undoings--(I had great trouble in leaving out the stock "poetical"
touches--but succeeded at last.) The book has since had some eight
hitches or stages of growth, with one annex, (and another to come out
in 1891, which will complete it.)
1862.--In December of this year went down to the field of war
in Virginia. My brother George reported badly wounded in the
Fredericksburg fight. (For 1863 and '64, see "Specimen Days.") 1865 to
'71--Had a place as clerk (till well on in '73) in the Attorney.
General's Office, Washington. (New York and Brooklyn seem more like
_home_, as I was born near, and brought up in them, and lived, man
and boy, for 30 years. But I lived some years in Washington, and have
visited, and partially lived, in most of the Western and Eastern
cities.)
1873.--This year lost, by death, my dear dear mother--and, just
before, my sister Martha--the two best and sweetest women I have ever
seen or known, or ever expect to see. Same year, February, a sudden
climax and prostration from paralysis. Had been simmering inside for
several years; broke out during those times temporarily, and then
went over. But now a serious attack, beyond cure. Dr. Drinkard, my
Washington physician, (and a first-rate one,) said it was the result
of too extreme bodily and emotional strain continued at Washington and
"down in front," in 1863, '4 and '5. I doubt if a heartier, stronger,
healthier physique, more balanced upon itself, or more unconscious,
more sound, ever lived, from 1835 to '72.
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