PART 3 OF 5 THE NOT-SO-QUIET ADVENTURE
ABOVE - The sun over
Resurrection Bay at 11:30 a.m. on Tuesday, January 15, 2018. This is the kind
of weather Rockwell Kent begins to occasionally see by mid-January and into
February. As we gain over four minutes of light each day, we begin to
literally see the light at the end of the tunnel. The extra light gain is quite noticeable for us, so must it be for Kent. By February he
knows he must leave soon but is hoping to get to Bear Glacier and further south out to
Aialik Bay and Northwestern Fiord sometime in April and May. That doesn’t work
out and he leaves Alaska by the end of March 1919 – anxious to get back to
Kathleen and the children but frustrated that he didn’t accomplish all he had
wanted. Capra photo.
NOTE– As I’m
expanding this lecture, it’s getting longer. There will be one more part after
this one. This article is Part 3 of 4 of an expanded 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 reading this website
you realize there is much more the story that’s contained on this website. I’ve
tried to incorporate some of that information in this draft, but I advise those
interested to check out this entire website for fuller context. The article focuses
on the emotional baggage Rockwell brought to Alaska using various sources,
especially his letters to his amour Hildegarde and his wife, Kathleen – and
Kathleen’s letters to him. Kent can escape into the wilderness. 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 3 OF 5
On
Nov. 21, 1918, Kathleen scratches out a 14-page letter to Rockwell – long for
her. She’s angry. You can see the pressure of her pen – the ink is dark on the
paper. When she crosses her “T’s” – the line stretches across the whole word.
Kathleen's Nov. 21, 1919 letter to Rockwell on Fox Island courtesy of the Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institute, Washington, D.C.
Kathleen's been to New York. “I learned many things which concern me and which I didn’t
know before,” she writes. She has her informers. “I was terribly upset and
terribly angry and disappointed.” Several weeks back she had to pay the doctor
$30 to treat their daughter Clara’s eye problem, Kent complained about not
having the money. While she was living frugally and economizing, she writes,
“…you spent hundreds! Yes, precious hundreds of dollars on a piece of jewelry
for Hilda.” And that wasn’t all Kathleen discovered. “And you paid her, for a
while the same salary she got at the theater, to keep her from going back to
the stage.” Hildegarde has some of their items and Kathleen wants them back.
She also has beautiful clothing and jewelry. Where do you think she is she
getting all of that? “If our marriage is
to continue, you’re going to have to work for it and earn it,” Kathleen
says. “The ground must be swept clear
and we must begin all over again…and there must be a certain amount of
giving-in on both sides.”
Many
weeks later Kent receives this letter and tries to explain the jewelry incident
in a convoluted fashion. He owed Hildegarde money and the jewelry was in place
of that. His narrative is vague, confusing and doesn’t ring true. Kathleen
learns more interesting information. “I don’t know how well you know Hilda,”
she writes, “but whether you know this or not, it is necessary I should tell
you.” Remember that auto trip she took last summer with a man she said she
didn’t care for, Kathleen tells Rockwell? Well, guess what? Remember
Elizabeth’s friend George? You know, the man who showered Hilda with all those
expensive gifts? Hildegarde spent several nights with him this past fall – in
Elizabeth’s apartment – and there’s a long, long line crossing the “T” in
apartment. Kathleen is furious.
Kent
ventures to Seward again on Nov. 30th – and we’re given an insight
into the difference between what’s in Wilderness
versus what’s in his letters. It was calm and mild on the water, but in Wilderness, we get a hint of Kent’s
stress at these trips to Seward. He writes: “It continued calm and mild all the
way, but nevertheless I caught myself singing ‘Erlkonig,’ such is my anxiety at
carrying Rockwell with me.” Franz Shubert composed the music to this song using
the lyrics of a Goethe poem. The story
is about the death of a child who has been attacked by a supernatural being –
the Erlkonig. I’ve provided links for both the story and the poem as well as a
YouTube version of its performance. Fortunately, Rockie didn’t know German well
enough to understand the story itself, but the music would certainly be a
distraction to the boy, perhaps even a humorous one as he watched his father in
dramatic performance mode acting out the narrative. Singing Erlkonig probably
distracted Kent as well, and he knew that his son wouldn’t understand the
lyrics. But why even think about the death of a child in such dangerous
conditions? Perhaps to remind himself of the risks he was taking with Rockie.
The scene of the two crossing Resurrection Bay must have been surrealistic –
both bundled against the cold, Rockie wrapped in one of Olson’s sheepskin coats
and hating it, the little engine puttering away – as Kent bellows out this
dramatic Shubert’s melody to a Goethe poem. If they ever make a move of
Rockwell Kent on Fox Island, filmmakers must incorporate this scene.
ABOVE - Erlkönig illustration by Moritz von Schwind
ABOVE - The Erlking by Albert Sterner, ca. 1910
Back
on Fox Island, in a Dec. 5th letter to Kathleen he tells his wife
that these ventures across the water to Seward are “a strain on me because of
Rockwell. I run us great risks.” He assures Kathleen that he now takes care and
is prudent because their son is so precious. “I somehow don’t care much about
myself. I’ll care more someday when you do.”
By
now, Kent knows how dangerous the trip to and from Seward can be. He also
learns that the Influenza epidemic has raged in Seward as well as some cases of
smallpox. Fortunately, he is able to avoid a hotel stay with the use of
someone’s small cottage. On the surface, as he writes in Chapter 6 of Wilderness, it’s a wonderful stay in
Seward. He and Rockie are offered many amenities, which save them money. But
Kent’s letters tell a different story. He leaves Seward on Dec. 4th
and – again – they have trouble with the engine. A snowstorm begins at Caines
Head and they can’t even see Fox Island. Half way there in the midst of a white
out the engine stops again. As they’re tossed around for ten minutes, Kent
works on it. He gets it started but it dies again as they round the headland to
their cove. Several cranks get it started again but it stops about 40 feet from
the shore. He writes: “That night I was exhausted and went straight to bed.”
These trips in his 18-foot dory with that broken-down Evinrude engine are
emotionally draining for Kent – especially on trips back to Fox Island when the
boat is loaded with supplies.
Back
on Fox Island on Dec. 5, he writer to Kathleen about the anxiety he experienced
in Seward. Her letters are not encouraging. Kent is up until three in the
morning some nights with his demons -- writing to Kathleen. These early morning
hours have been called “The Hour of the Wolf” – a period when writers, poets,
mystics and monks have written about spiritual experiences. Some have called
these intervals “The Hour of God.” Kent is often writing and sketching between
midnight at 3 a.m. The trips to and from Seward with Rockie are now emotionally
exhausting. “I run us great risks -- and {I} am prudent -- but he is a great
care to me, he is too precious. I somehow don’t care much about myself. I’ll
care more someday when you do.” The night before they left Seward for Fox
Island he collapsed. He thought he had the Influenza. “I lay there dreaming
rather delusionally of death – planning my last instructions for the care of
Rockwell and my last messages to you my darling -- and our children. And I
thought of ways to show you at my death how completely every hope centered in
you. I called Rockwell once to sit at by bedside and pet me a little”
The Brownell house in Seward circa 1910. Kent befriend Don Carlos Brownell, a prominent Alaska and Seward pioneer. He often stayed at this house when he and Rockie came to town. Kent and Brownell corresponded in later years. The house still stands in Seward. Although remodeled, the older part looks much like it did when Kent and Rockie stayed there. Photo courtesy of the Resurrection Bay Historical Society
While
in Seward on Dec. 2nd he tells Hildegarde something he’s held back
for weeks. “I have made a choice – as
the only possible solution of what is an inextricable and tragic tangle. I have
chosen to go back to Kathleen and the children” He’ll go back, but not to live
in New York. His Alaska experience has taught him that although he enjoys
solitude, he doesn’t want isolation. He’s fed up with the world and wants to be
left alone. Kent says he’ll leave New York forever, “maybe, go far into the
country somewhere where no other people will be. The beauties of this wild and
lonely existence are a real discovery for me. I never knew before what freedom
was. Day after day no one is seen to disturb the calm of existence. If only my inner
troubles were stilled -- then I might really say that I had found
the true conditions for peace and happiness.”
Is
he serious? When he does return from Alaska he and Kathleen do scout out a
place far from New York in the country – and it is at “Egypt,” his farmhouse
near Arlington, Vermont where Kent finishes his Alaska paintings and writes Wilderness. He has experienced an
epiphany on Fox Island. Reading Kathleen’s letters, he begins see more clearly
how his past behavior has caused her suffering. The wilderness, his son’s
innocence, Olson’s experience, reading Blake and Nietzsche and other books,
meeting authentic pioneers in Seward, experience the freedom of the frontier –
all this and more is changing him. During that late November, early December
trip to Seward, Kent had written two special letters for Kathleen – but he
didn’t send them to her. He sent one to Carl Zigrosser and the other to George
Chappell. His two friends were to see that Kathleen received those letters for
New Year’s Eve – Rockwell and Kathleen’s 10th wedding anniversary.
To Carl, he also sent money to have flowers sent to Kathleen. Kent opens his
heart to his wife in those two letters. He expresses his sorry for his
unkindness, his unfaithfulness, thoughtlessness. But how will Kathleen respond?
Will she believe him? He won’t know for many weeks, so he had better hedge his
bets.
Views of the El Dorado Narrows with the Fox Island Spit on the east side of Fox Island. Upper left, a current photo. Upper right, the photo Kent took on one of climbs. Below center, Kent's painting based upon his photo. Lower left, Hildegarde. Lower right, Kathleen.
During
that same period in Seward he sends that letter to Hildegarde ending their
affair. But he also writes her: “There will be no separation. I have loved you
and I love you now too dearly to let you pass from me.” He ends the letter,
“Dear sweetheart, there are thorny paths for us both ahead in this dreary world…Hildegarde.
I love you. Lovingly – and in shame, Rockwell.” If Kathleen won’t come around,
he doesn’t want to lose Hildegarde. He must have a woman in his life who loves
and admires him. That veneration, even worship – was the fuel he needed to
overcome his own feelings of inadequacy.
Christmas
comes and goes on Fox Island. Kent makes an honest effort to create a day
special for both Rockie and Olson. Steamers hadn’t arrived on time in Seward
with all their Christmas mail and packages. Kent would have to make do. He is
ill with stomach problems and boils during the holidays. The weather turns mild
and the snow disappears. As the 10th anniversary of his marriage to
Kathleen approaches on New Year’s Eve, he feels lonely and depressed. On
Christmas day he writes to Kathleen: “Ah – I want you sweet wife. This day has
been your day with us. I wanted, just before I lighted the candles, to sit down
and write you the loving that were in my heart… Sweet mother, now as I write
you and all the children have long been fast asleep.- it’s next morning with
you. I have believed today that I have been just as much in your thoughts as
you have been in mine. I have thought that you missed me ever so much. And now
I believe you to be dreaming of me as close beside you as your pillow. That’s
where I shall hold you, this night. Mother dear – I’m sick of being away
from you. Find some way to come to us!”
Pen and ink of the Fox Island cabin Christmas tree from Wilderness. The door is on the northwest side of the cabin.
Back
in New York, Kathleen reads Kent’s letter. He tells her that Hildegarde’s
letters to him put hers to shame. Think, she writes to him the day after
Christmas, “…think what has she suffered from your conduct compared to what I
have suffered. What has she given up to you & your life compared to what I
have! And still you have me! Haven’t I been true and faithful to you for years
& years and written you tender loving letters, and still you have gone off
with first one woman and then another! You say some of my letters are a horror
to you. Some of yours to me I have the same feeling about… It is impossible
for me to forget the torment I have gone thru! the hundreds of dollars you have
spent on other girls (yes, this is true. I know it…where I worked like a
slave and went without nearly everything. And now you blame me if not in
writing you…for living in the city where I can have a few comforts and are
people I care for. My life is not nearly so “gay” as yours was (last winter)
for I have…only twice been to two shows only & danced only once. I have no
sweetheart constantly by my side! as you had, with a faithful wife & family
to come home to at night if you cared!”
She
demands he send her a copy of his letter to Hildegarde ending their affair: “How
easy it would be to deceive me in this! You have also written me very, very
loving letters before this, promising to be faithful and kind & to
make me happy. Has that come to pass! Certainly it hasn’t or I wouldn’t be
writing to you as I am or crying as I am. You blame me for breaking my promise.
Many, many, many, times have you broken yours to me, and thru that I
have suffered tortures, even as you have suffered and more; so don’t blame me
for that, even if I had done it. I feel that I have a right to see what
you have written Hilda. I must see it if we are to begin anew, with a
new love for one another, and if my love for you is to be a pure and happy one.”
On
Dec. 27th, as their anniversary approaches, Kent writes : “All the
restraint I’m capable of shall go into this letter that shall be chiefly about
your coming and besides that a practical summing up of things I have asked of
you in other letters. I yearn continually for you as a body might ache for
limbs that have been severed from it…I cannot inspite of myself believe in your
love against the evidence of your letters. In my unhappiness over it I am often
not rightly sane. I plan rash acts, these haunt pretty consistently I must
admit. They would be, if carried out, ruinous us to us both and to the
happiness of our children…If I leave here now this enterprise into which I have
embarked with the support and confidence of so many valued friends, must end in
failure. And that affects us both and would stand between us always. You should
come to me. The reasons I have given are sufficient if your love for me is
great and true. But Kathleen I do not implore you to come. Now as ever I assume
that these things are for final decision in my hands. Between us two authority
must rest with me. It always has and I have not abused it. If now I say ‘come
west to Alaska, we shall live here.’ I expect you to come.,,I don’t delight in
authority and I yield to you when I can. If you even now send for me to return
I will come at once. That you must never doubt. But for both of us because we
have this right over each other, wisdom is most necessary…Bring one or two
children who can travel free, rent the apartment, leave Kathleen with mother.
Or get Bernice or Dorothy to stay at the apartment until you return. Come as
soon as you can. Let us say that would be about February 1st”
This
is a demand, not a request. What follows are detailed instructions for Kathleen’s
travel to Alaska, Seward and Fox Island. But as this letter ends Kent’s mood
changes, “Now Mother, darling, don’t misunderstand. You are not to
consider coming if in your own wisdom it does not seem best to you…Go
thoroughly into the matter of cost – and see what you can manage….I am
powerless here to help. My sweetheart, I trust you implicitly. If you find that
you cannot come, cannot by any means do it, write to me from that moment with
ever more and more love so that my unhappiness and disappointment will not be
so great.” Kent wants Kathleen to send him a telegram affirming that her love
for him will be faithful, deep and true. He wants the telegram to contain only
two words, “Yes, always.”
The day before Kent writes the letter above, Kathleen sends the telegram below:
The day before Kent writes the letter above, Kathleen sends the telegram below:
Late
that evening of Dec. 27, Kent feels better, has a change of heart, and writes another
letter to his wife. He begins it with a puzzle sketch at the top, hoping that
will help extract the venom from the last letter.
He
writes: “Sometimes I must be silly. Just a little while ago I finished my long
{WRITTEN BACKWARDS} and solemn letter about coming here and I’m afraid you’ll
be frightened if I don’t amuse you somehow…Remember that when I am
unkind it is because in my sorrow I am not able to be myself…Well darling, I’m
better tonight – not well but better.” Kent tries other tactics to convince
Kathleen to join him. Rockie speaks continually of your coming. He’ll catch a
porcupine for you, and guide you on hikes through the woods. That day he and Rockie
sang Christmas songs. “How pretty his little voice sounded out in the night
under the stars!” Kent writes.
TO
BE CONTINUED
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