PART 2 OF 5 -- THE NOT-SO-QUIET ADVENTURE
Resurrection bay
at 11:55 a.m. on Monday, January 14, 2018. Capra photo.
NOTE – This
article is Part 2 of 4 of a somewhat revised version of the lecture I delivered
at the Anchorage (Alaska) Museum of History and Art on Nov. 9, 2018 as part of
a one-day Rockwell Kent Symposium. If you’ve been reading this website you realize
there is much more to the story. I’ve tried to
incorporate some of new information in this draft, but I advise those
interested to check out this entire website for a more coherent context. This revised article focuses
on the emotional baggage Rockwell brought to Alaska. I've used various sources,
especially his letters to his amour Hildegarde and his wife, Kathleen – and
Kathleen’s letters to him. Kent and Kathleen's letters are courtesy of the Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institute. The Hildegarde letters are courtesy of the Butler Library, Columbia University. Kent can escape into the wilderness -- and there is the
“quiet adventure.” But he can escape neither himself nor his demons. Beneath the surface of his book is…
THE NOT-SO-QUIET
ADVENTURE
Rockwell Kent in
Alaska 1918-1919
by Doug Capra ©
2019
PART 2 OF 5
Kent
writes many letters from the time he leaves New York for Alaska. On Aug. 2nd
-- before boarding the Admiral Schely in Seattle -- he writes to “My darling
Hildegarde…little sweetheart, I think of you very very much and I miss you…At
night I miss your soft white body to love and your legs to twist into mine and
your shoulder to sleep upon. Oh, sweetheart, can’t you imagine how much I want
you ------ Write to Yakutat and send my canvases and other things there.”
Yakutat circa 1920 (Alaska Digital Archives)
These
travel letters are filled with evocative and romantic descriptions of Alaska.
He’s in an exuberant mood. On August 5th to Hildegarde: “Sweetheart,
dear, I’ll yearn for you day after day and night after night. I’ll close my
eyes and {when I} wake you appear before me. And I’ll love you so dearly and
appreciate…the devoted love you have given me. Sweetheart, sometimes I imagine
you forgetting me somewhat and being too happy with some other. And I shush the
thought straight out. You’ll be true to me, darling, won’t you. You must write
me a promise of this, please do.” As Kent finds out later, Hildegarde probably
has other lovers.
Kathleen and Hildegarde
A
constant theme in these letters to both Hildegarde and Kathleen is the artist’s
need for consistency and loyalty. He not only expects them to be faithful to
him and him alone, but he also wants to hear of that allegiance in the letters.
Kent is a perfectionist himself and has the same expectations of others. He’s
guilty about his inability to reach his own ideals and frequently seeks
forgiveness in the letters – yet he seems less able to forgive others for their
failures. As Jake Milgram Wien writes in his article “His Mind on Fire: Rockwell Kent’s Amorous Letters to Hildegarde
Hirsch and Ernesta Drinker Bullitt 1916-1925”: “Kent’s pursuit of the grail of
perfection in love filled his life with passion just as paint filled the void
of his canvas. But once having found his erotic fix, Kent initiated a cycle
invariably turning to disillusionment and blame. His emotionally charged
letters to his inamorata reveal a troubled soul afflicted with a tangle of
desires, emotional imbalances, and feelings of inadequacy.” Once established on
Fox Island in Resurrection Bay, these tendencies become like dry tinder lit by
the depressing weather, descent into darkness, the poor mail service, and an
isolation like Kent never before experienced.
On
August 21 from Yakutat he writes to Kathleen: “Sweet little mother, don’t be
afraid to love me with all, all your heart. Oh, mother, if you can only…forgive
me… Rockwell sits near me here fast asleep. He’s such a little man – and yet
with such a love for crazy kiddish play. And we talk about his dear mother
before we go to sleep at night -- and I tell him to think hard of how much you
love each other -- and then the thousands of miles will seem nothing. Now,
goodnight my wife. God be with you. At this hour you are asleep and I kiss you
so lovingly. Your, Rockwell.” He adds at the end in his neat script the Robert
Burns poem, “A Red, Red Rose.” Kent is good about relating Rockie’s exploits to
Kathleen, knowing how she feels about him taking their son to Alaska. She had
forbid it but Kent took him anyway.
Yakutat circa 1920 (Alaska Digital Archives)
In
an undated August letter from Yakutat he urges Hildegarde to join him and sends
her detailed travel directions. By this time, Kent has decided to settle in
Seldovia on the Kenai Peninsula, south of Homer. “Dear love, have you forgiven me for the unhappiness I gave you those
last few weeks?...I can cry for misery that I was not all to you that I should
have been.” Kent makes it clear that if she joins him -- she’ll have to cover
all the expenses herself. It’s up to her, he admits, and he’ll understand if
she decides not to come.
Seward circa 1918 - 1920 (Resurrection Bay Historical Society)
He
ultimately decides to settle in Seward for many reasons – the beauty of
island-dotted Resurrection Bay (Kent is fixated on islands); the proximity of a
sizable town (a concern he has with his son along); and the fact that Seward
has regular mail service with all the steamer arrivals -- ironic, because that
year the U.S. government and the steamship companies have a contract dispute
and Alaska mail delivery is in shatters. He arrives in Seward aboard the
Admiral Farragut on Aug. 24, 1918. The next day he finds his Fox Island
paradise. The weather is like this for him in 1918 as it is 100 years later on
the same day.
He
meets 71-year-old fox farmer and goat rancher Lars Matt Olson; meets Thomas W. Hawkins, the financier of the fox farm; is invited to stay there. This is the Hildegarden, the Northern Paradise he's been seeking. He prepares for the move and settles there on August.
28th. He has received hardly any mail by this time but has written
dozens of letters. He’s extremely positive about the whole Alaska venture.
Lars Matt Olson with an unidentified child on Fox Island with one of his goats. His cabin is in the background. (Kent family album)
But
the Great War is raging on, and men Kent’s age are required to register with
the draft board. Seward – like most small towns and cities across the country –
is in a fierce patriotic mood. This may have reminded Kent of his experience in Brigus, Newfoundland three years earlier. Now, nearly two million American soldiers are in
France involved in fierce fighting, some at the Meuse-Argonne. Thousands are dying. The Influenza epidemic is killing millions of others around the world. There is
no toleration for draft resisters – or slackers as they’re called. Kent is
fluent in German, against both the war and the draft and greatly sympathizes
with German culture. He remains outspoken, but with his Newfoundland experience in mind, he is more cautious. He doesn’t
want a repeat of Newfoundland.
On
Sept. 18th he and Rockie row in their 18-foot dory to Seward to check on the mail. Their finicky 3.5 horsepower Evinrude engine is again in disrepair. During
the last week the rains and storms have caused tremendous flooding in town with
much damage. He remains in Seward until Sept. 24th meeting the
steamers with mail and frantically writing letters so they can depart with the
ships. Kent finds two letters from Kathleen from mid-September. His demons have arrived.
Rockie and his father along the Fox Island beach in their 18-foot dory. My guess is that the photo is blurry because the asked Olson to take the picture. Notice their engine at the stern. It was an old, commercial engine weighing over 100 pounds, not designed for such a small boat. It was set low in the stern and so heavy that when it stopped working in dangerous conditions, Kent couldn't haul it in the boat, so they had it's extra weight at the stern. (Archives of American Art)
Kent finds several letters from his wife. In
the first one, among all the mundane details of life on Monhegan Island, his
wife writes of dances she’s attending: “Last evening I spent at the dance hall, dancing the whole evening with
one man; a fellow by the name of Walker, whom I think I spoke of before, from
one of the patrol boats. He came down to the house about seven; he’s crazy
about the kiddies, particularly with Kathleen who entertained him for half an
hour while I put the others to bed. He seems to feel that I am the only person
on the island fit to speak to. It pleases me to think that he knows the
difference, which most of them don’t know, and don’t care about.”
She adds in the second letter: “My friend Mr.
Walker has just left. His boat is in again tonight, but it being Sunday there
was no dance. We took a walk then came back here and lit a fire, dried our feet
and toasted marshmallows. We have just discovered that we are twins, born on
the same day in the same year. Isn’t that romantic! Goodnight hugs and kisses
for you both. Your own, Kathleen.”
It's clear that Kathleen is taunting her husband. In the past while he was away she has told him in letters that other men are interested in her, including the mail-boat captain on Monhegan Island. This is nothing new. But what is new is that Mr. Walker has been invited into their home as if he's courting Kathleen. Kent is devastated, becomes depressed, writes a
series of ranting letters – -- and returns those two letters back to
Kathleen. “It’s a thing to be ashamed
of,” he writes and adds, “I’m desperate about what you’ve written…that you
should have such malice toward me …I sent word straight off to Hildegarde to
come if she possibly could.”
Retaliation. We see that with both of them in these letters. They've been married nearly ten years and know each's vulnerabilities. They realize this and try to avoid it. But Kent's idealistic demands for perfection and faithfulness and his criticisms of Kathleen, combined with his wife's deep resentment for his affairs and unkindness toward her -- keep their disputes alive. We get a good insight into Kent's personality in a letter that his good friend, George Chappell, writes to him on January 21 and 29, 1919. Kent has been asking George and Carl Zigrosser to check in on Kathleen and the children. He has sent each of them an letter to give Kathleen on New Year's Eve -- their 10th wedding anniversary. George is the closer friend. From the letters, it's clear that Kent has asked him to take care of his family if anything happens to him in Alaska. On Jan. 21st, George writes:
"I go down to see my foster-family as often as I can, - they're guardianship, - should it ever by necessary - would be an honor. God grant that their Dad may come back to them safely, - but I shall always ben on hand in any event. I lunch with the flock about once a week & the daughters three hang about my neck like three great soft, squashy plumbs. Last week I translated from cover to cover the little French book with the amusing pictures of teh animated furniture -- 'Une Histoire Sui Finit Mal" - while the children waited with baited breath until teh final tableau in which 'the old lady gets dead" as little K {Kathleen} put it. It was grerat fun reading among a mass of chubby arms and legs."
George and Carl occasionally lunch together and talk about Kent, including the idea of incorporating him, which does happen once he is in Vermont. These two men know Kent as well as anyone. They respect and admire him, but they also know his short-comings and weaknesses. From reading some of Kathleen's letters, Kent suspects that his and her friends are influencing her against him. Kent has written George a letter apparently questioning their friendship and accusing his friend of working against him with Kathleen. George responds on Jan. 29th: "Your last letter of Dec. 28th quite disturbed me,- to put it mildly. I know that my 'happy-careless way' has perhaps made me negligent in the proper acknowledgement of letters received for,- and delivered to Kathleen, but that any sort of 'black interpretation' could be put upon my short-comings quite struck me dumb." He then goes on to elaborate on how important and sacred is their friendship. Then he adds a most revealing piece of advice to Kent that helps understand what's going on in the letters and in Kent's relationship with Kathleen. George writes:
"And please try not to worry too much about home affairs. It hurts me terribly to have you speak of Kathleen's 'faithlessness;' of how she has 'shown herself up '- It seems to me harsh and unfair, when I see her at home giving unremitting care to the children, tied hand and foot with daily drudgery that would make a man into a maniac in a week, - and always sweet and patient, always trying in her dumb and inarticulate way to do what she thinks is her duty."
{NOTE -- By "dumb" Chappell means silent not stupid. Even artist John Sloan in his diary comments about how quiet Kathleen is when she stayed with them during Kent's first Newfoundland trip in 1910. Sloan and his wife could hardly get her to talk.
Chappell's letter continues: "Oh, Rocky! perfection is always the peak beyond, and the way to it is full of bruises, but we can attain a kind of perfection by idealizing what we have, and still not lose sight of the great unattainable. You have much to think of with most precious comfort, much to work for with great patience, much to come back to with supreme joy -- if you will only surround them all with greatness of heart, with forgiveness for short-comings, with tenderness and with unfailing love. And now endeth the Gospel!"
This is one of the most insightful descriptions of the Rockwell Kent of 1918-19 that I've found -- and from a man who knew him and his family well. It is observation from a third party of the type of personal information difficult to obtain about the relationship between spouses. It represents a deep dive into both the letters and the relationship between Rockwell and Kathleen.
In Seward between Sept. 18-24, 1918, Kent responds to Kathleen's two disturbing letters. He calls his time on Fox Island an “exile” and adds: “Kathleen, my darling wife, if your love has turned to what I have read…you will never see me again. I will never go to the east again but will try what I can to make of life here…without your deepest truest love I want for me an end to all things, forgetfulness, failure and death.” On Sept. 20th while still in Seward he asks Kathleen to get notarized letters affirming their marriage and children so he can get a deferment from the draft. He’s asking his friend George Chappell to help. Kent knows what will happen if he refuses to register. “I cannot bear to return to the island with this unhappiness,” Kent writes. The documents eventually arrive.
Retaliation. We see that with both of them in these letters. They've been married nearly ten years and know each's vulnerabilities. They realize this and try to avoid it. But Kent's idealistic demands for perfection and faithfulness and his criticisms of Kathleen, combined with his wife's deep resentment for his affairs and unkindness toward her -- keep their disputes alive. We get a good insight into Kent's personality in a letter that his good friend, George Chappell, writes to him on January 21 and 29, 1919. Kent has been asking George and Carl Zigrosser to check in on Kathleen and the children. He has sent each of them an letter to give Kathleen on New Year's Eve -- their 10th wedding anniversary. George is the closer friend. From the letters, it's clear that Kent has asked him to take care of his family if anything happens to him in Alaska. On Jan. 21st, George writes:
"I go down to see my foster-family as often as I can, - they're guardianship, - should it ever by necessary - would be an honor. God grant that their Dad may come back to them safely, - but I shall always ben on hand in any event. I lunch with the flock about once a week & the daughters three hang about my neck like three great soft, squashy plumbs. Last week I translated from cover to cover the little French book with the amusing pictures of teh animated furniture -- 'Une Histoire Sui Finit Mal" - while the children waited with baited breath until teh final tableau in which 'the old lady gets dead" as little K {Kathleen} put it. It was grerat fun reading among a mass of chubby arms and legs."
George and Carl occasionally lunch together and talk about Kent, including the idea of incorporating him, which does happen once he is in Vermont. These two men know Kent as well as anyone. They respect and admire him, but they also know his short-comings and weaknesses. From reading some of Kathleen's letters, Kent suspects that his and her friends are influencing her against him. Kent has written George a letter apparently questioning their friendship and accusing his friend of working against him with Kathleen. George responds on Jan. 29th: "Your last letter of Dec. 28th quite disturbed me,- to put it mildly. I know that my 'happy-careless way' has perhaps made me negligent in the proper acknowledgement of letters received for,- and delivered to Kathleen, but that any sort of 'black interpretation' could be put upon my short-comings quite struck me dumb." He then goes on to elaborate on how important and sacred is their friendship. Then he adds a most revealing piece of advice to Kent that helps understand what's going on in the letters and in Kent's relationship with Kathleen. George writes:
"And please try not to worry too much about home affairs. It hurts me terribly to have you speak of Kathleen's 'faithlessness;' of how she has 'shown herself up '- It seems to me harsh and unfair, when I see her at home giving unremitting care to the children, tied hand and foot with daily drudgery that would make a man into a maniac in a week, - and always sweet and patient, always trying in her dumb and inarticulate way to do what she thinks is her duty."
{NOTE -- By "dumb" Chappell means silent not stupid. Even artist John Sloan in his diary comments about how quiet Kathleen is when she stayed with them during Kent's first Newfoundland trip in 1910. Sloan and his wife could hardly get her to talk.
Chappell's letter continues: "Oh, Rocky! perfection is always the peak beyond, and the way to it is full of bruises, but we can attain a kind of perfection by idealizing what we have, and still not lose sight of the great unattainable. You have much to think of with most precious comfort, much to work for with great patience, much to come back to with supreme joy -- if you will only surround them all with greatness of heart, with forgiveness for short-comings, with tenderness and with unfailing love. And now endeth the Gospel!"
This is one of the most insightful descriptions of the Rockwell Kent of 1918-19 that I've found -- and from a man who knew him and his family well. It is observation from a third party of the type of personal information difficult to obtain about the relationship between spouses. It represents a deep dive into both the letters and the relationship between Rockwell and Kathleen.
In Seward between Sept. 18-24, 1918, Kent responds to Kathleen's two disturbing letters. He calls his time on Fox Island an “exile” and adds: “Kathleen, my darling wife, if your love has turned to what I have read…you will never see me again. I will never go to the east again but will try what I can to make of life here…without your deepest truest love I want for me an end to all things, forgetfulness, failure and death.” On Sept. 20th while still in Seward he asks Kathleen to get notarized letters affirming their marriage and children so he can get a deferment from the draft. He’s asking his friend George Chappell to help. Kent knows what will happen if he refuses to register. “I cannot bear to return to the island with this unhappiness,” Kent writes. The documents eventually arrive.
While he’s
in Seward encouraging letters also come from Kathleen with photos of the
children. But the great distance and time lapses between the letters makes it
impossible for them to realistically communicate. They are living in two
different worlds. For Kent in Seward, the splendor of Fox Island and Olson are
twelve miles south. Now even that place seems uninviting to the artist. It’s
pouring rain in town, the streets are muddy, and no one has seen the sun for
two weeks. When it finally comes out -- the nearly six minutes lost each day is
quite noticeable. The recently rampaging glacial stream -- carrying tons of
silt and huge boulders -- has destroyed everything in its path. It’s getting
colder and soon snow will appear on the mountains.
Seward's first major flood happened in the fall of 1917. This photo shows some of the damage. Another destructive flood happened in September 1918 and Kent describes it in Wilderness.
By Sept. 23rd Kent tells his wife that
he’s advised Hildegarde not to come. In return, he wants better, more loving,
less rushed letters from Kathleen. Her “Dear Husband” salutation doesn’t
compare to his “My darling, sweetheart and wife.” She writes her careless, “hasty
notes” as if they were a “hurried, impatient affair of which you’d thank God to
be free.” Realize, he chides her that “while you play I work, that while you
are among friends I am alone, while you are taken care of I worry, worry, worry
about the present and the future…You have led a carefree happy life and…except
for occasional hasty notes -- entirely neglected and forgotten me.”
Here we see Kent’s view of Kathleen as a child
he is raising, which he admits in some letters. She’s almost ten years younger
than her husband, only 17 when they married. And she was innocent. In a Feb.
10, 1919 letter to Rockwell, as they’re trying to regain trust in each other,
Kathleen says they need to behave as they did when they were engaged. She
writes: “And it was in front of your studio fire one night that you told me how
babies were made. Do you remember?” She certainly knows now, but he still sees
her as that innocent 17-year-old. She’s not the intellectual he is, and admits
it in some of her letters. As both artist John Sloan and George Chappell observe, Kathleen is often silent, dedicated, dutiful -- often feeling inadequate among Kent's more intellectual and articulate friends. She doesn’t pretend to understand all his philosophy
and theory. But by 1918 Kathleen has changed. The “Jenny” affair had always
been an episode she could never disremember. She forgave – but then came
Hildegarde. Add to that Kent’s taking Rockie with him to Alaska without her
consent. She’s become less tolerant of what her husband calls his
“transgressions” and angry at her passivity. once Once she moves from Monhegan Island to New York City in the fall of 1918,
she probably shares her unhappiness with close friends. Bernice and her husband Billy occasionally take her out
on the town to Broadway shows and concerts. Kent resents this and is suspicious. Elizabeth seems to know what’s
going on with Hildegarde and relays that information to Kathleen. It’s not as
if Rockwell’s affairs have been secret. Bernice and Elizabeth may be
encouraging Kathleen to be more assertive with Rockwell. Rockwell even suspects
that in his letters and doesn’t like Kathleen associating with those women. As noted above, Kent even suspects his close friend George of undermining him.
On Oct. 11 Olson attempts to tow Kent and
Rockie to Caines Head but his engine fails. Kent rows him back to the island
and Rockie rows their boat back. That day he writes to Hildegarde “Oh, Sweetheart –
as much love to you as the stars in heaven.” He writes to Kathleen that he composed
a appalling letter to her – so dreadful that he destroys it.
Seward circa 1916. This photo was taken by Seward Mayor Antonio Myers who served the office in 1915 and 1916. Construction of the Alaska Railroad had begun in 1915 with Seward as the tidewater terminus. Two private railways had constructed 71 miles of track north. The Alaska Central Railway went bankrupt. It reorganized as the Alaska Northern Railway which was purchased by the federal government. Seward is Mile 0 of the Iditarod Trail, and even during Kent's time in town mail and supplies were still carried north using dogsleds. Capra collection
On Oct. 14th Kent and Rockie reach
Seward and Kent writes to Kathleen about his nightmares on Fox Island: “You came before
me in dreams…that were horrific nightmares, in which you appeared utterly false
and heartless, living gayly without a thought of me or of the promises you made
me…And those dreams stayed with me for I have not your own presence to drive
them away, only your careless and heartless letters that rather confirmed my
dread than dispelled it.” He pauses: “I deserve to have lost your love. I am
appalled at the thought of the unhappiness I have repeatedly given you.” He’s
desperate. “Oh, my darling wife,” he confesses, “can you believe it of me that
a hundred times this past winter I have been on my knees beside our bed or in
some hidden place praying, to whom I do not know, but praying desperately, for
your happiness.”
Imagine Kent at his small table in their tiny cabin on Fox Island writing these letters by candle-light at at 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning during dark, stormy winter nights. Rockie is asleep nearby embracing little Squirley. Kent can't get to Seward for the mail. Damn the steamship companies, he thinks. But then, even if the steamers arrive, the weather won't allow him to venture to Seward. That mid-September near death experience with Rockie on Resurrection Bay during their return trip to Fox Island -- that left a mark on him he'll never forget. And Kathleen and Hildegarde -- he can't even realistically communicate with them using the mails. There's no back and forth, no question and answer, no send and receive. The words sent to him and the words he sends out have no connection with what he, Kathleen, and Hildegarde receive. At least not until many weeks later. Kent wanted solitude, but this is not quite the kind of isolation he expected. He misses his wife and children. Rockie is a reminder of his missing family. He's probably never spent this much time alone with his son. Getting to know him better may open his eyes to how beautiful he is and how much Kathleen's influence has shaped him. He needs Kathleen with him -- right there on Fox Island.
Imagine Kent at his small table in their tiny cabin on Fox Island writing these letters by candle-light at at 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning during dark, stormy winter nights. Rockie is asleep nearby embracing little Squirley. Kent can't get to Seward for the mail. Damn the steamship companies, he thinks. But then, even if the steamers arrive, the weather won't allow him to venture to Seward. That mid-September near death experience with Rockie on Resurrection Bay during their return trip to Fox Island -- that left a mark on him he'll never forget. And Kathleen and Hildegarde -- he can't even realistically communicate with them using the mails. There's no back and forth, no question and answer, no send and receive. The words sent to him and the words he sends out have no connection with what he, Kathleen, and Hildegarde receive. At least not until many weeks later. Kent wanted solitude, but this is not quite the kind of isolation he expected. He misses his wife and children. Rockie is a reminder of his missing family. He's probably never spent this much time alone with his son. Getting to know him better may open his eyes to how beautiful he is and how much Kathleen's influence has shaped him. He needs Kathleen with him -- right there on Fox Island.
“Oh, Kathleen, I can’t write what I have to tell you. If you were here
-- God, if you were here!” Kent reminds her that his mother offered to take the
children so Kathleen could go to Alaska with him. Kathleen refused. “I told
Rockwell {Rockie} of it,” Kent taunts. We’ve often been separated, he tells Kathleen,
but I’ve been the one who brought us back together. “You would have done
nothing,” he claims. But then – “Oh,
forgive me – why should you want me!” I can’t even think about you, he says.
I’ll go mad. Kent writes, “Dear love, across all those
miles…stretch your arms and take me against your breast and we can both feel
again that we are in truth all, all, all to one another.”
Kent's registration with the Selective Service in Seward.
The next day in Seward, Oct. 15th,
he registers for the draft hoping to get a deferment because of his dependent
wife and children. He finds five letters from Hildegarde for him with photos.
He is jealous. She’s at the beach swimming with other men. “Love me
sweetheart,” he writes – love me.” Unlike Kathleen’s letters Hildegarde’s “are
so full of love that my heart aches for you, my darling. Sweetheart I want you
so much – and I have terrible nightly thoughts and dreams about you.” He again
urges her to join him in Alaska -- But he’ll leave it up to her since she’ll
have to pay for the trip herself and – her warns her that -- as a naturalized
American with a German accent -- her travel could be dangerous.
That same day in Seward he writes Kathleen: “Do you…not know
that I am not strong and triumphant and ruthless, but weak, feeling
myself a pitiful fool of blind forces in my own nature. Oh mother, I have so
often covered up my own depression for your sake. It would often have been a
comfort to have had my own inner despair discovered by you and to feel myself
gently and lovingly soothed by you…” On Oct. 16th in response to her wishes he promises that he
will be “a kinder husband and better lover than you’ve ever known me.”
Back
on Fox Island, on Oct. 22nd he writes to Hildegarde, “I could not
believe when first I came here to live that it could be so difficult to reach
Seward in the winter over the water. But I now believe that weeks will
sometimes pass before one could venture on the trip.” In mid-September he and
Rockie were almost swamped and killed on their way back to Fox Island from
Seward. Since then, he’s dreaded any trip to town – not so much for his own
sake – but because he has Rockie with him.
Kent
still wants Hildgarde to join him in Alaska – not what he told Kathleen – and
arranges for her arrival in Seward with transportation to Fox Island. On Oct.
28th he again writes Hildegarde, “I work with all my energy, with
all my heart; I need success, I want greatness and fame, and I want somehow
that these shall contribute to the happiness of you and of Kathleen and my
beloved family.” Besides Olson’s friendship, his only comfort on Fox Island is
with Rockie. “I hold him so close to me as I sleep and he in turn clings fondly
to a little stuffed creature, his “squirley”, that we brought along.”
TO
BE CONTINUED
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