When Walt Whitman moved to the final residence of his life in 1884, he called it an “accidental” destination. Before his last eight years, his close friends encouraged him to move somewhere more refined -- Whitman had the means and, by this time, his epic Leaves of Grass was gaining international attention. But the poet was dedicated to the regularity of common city life -- he was born on Long Island, grew up in Brooklyn and Manhattan -- and it wasn’t in his nature to live among the well-to-do. After all, Whitman labeled his life’s work as “poetry for the working class.”

During the years Whitman spent on Mickle Street (now Boulevard), Camden was quaint, with booming industry in close proximity. RCA Victor and Campbell's soup factories mass produced nearby, and a bustling railroad carried its passengers on tracks behind a line of rowhouses across from Whitman's house.

Today, those rowhouses have been replaced: The Camden County Courthouse was built across the street in 1983. Mickle was widened in 1973 with an island median centering the road. All in all, the view from Whitman's steps isn't as charming as it was during the olden days, but without a doubt, the WW House, the place where our local bard spent the remainder of his life, is a rare rose among dandelions.

The two-story rowhome, built in 1844, is surrounded on both sides by nearly equally restored brick-front rowhomes. The house's facade is paneled in gray with heathery lavender undertones. Pairs of yellow shutters, outlined in red, square off the antique-replicated windows. Out front, by the curb, is a marble stone with "W.W." carved into it like a faint scar nearly faded from time. My tour guide, Dick Dyer, a historian from the State Park Service, says it's a "carriage step" from way back when.

Whitman's front door opens to a hallway leading to two sitting rooms, a kitchen and a stairwell. The interior of the front room, along with the other rooms of the house, was redesigned from photographs taken during Whitman's residence: some from newspapers of the time, some taken by friend Thomas Eakins. Much of the room's furniture and decor is original. Items like wallpaper and rugs that naturally wouldn't stand the test of time have been meticulously replicated. But objects like Whitman's favorite rocking chair, bookcases and dressers, pictures that adorned the mantel, and the frame and porcelainlike cylinder connector of an overhanging oil lamp are the real McCoy.

Upstairs, in a narrow, toiletless bathroom, is Whitman's black-bottom tub: He was known to be obsessed with cleanliness. Make your way down the hall and you'll find Whitman's bedroom, which holds the bed where the great poet died, along with other artifacts from his day, like a pair of his shoes -- it's unbelievable that they were preserved all these years.

Back downstairs, on the far side of the house, witness a typical 19th-century kitchen, where Whitman's live-in maid, a person he also called friend, Mary O. Davis, often prepared his meals. There's a square tin stove with a metal iron, the kind that Monopoly pieces were modeled after, resting on top. A cozy nook with a casual breakfast table is placed in the corner, away from the draft of the back door. Perhaps Whitman spent time here drinking tea and talking to Davis and scowling at her dog, which he loathed.

Because the Whitman house is so well-preserved and maintained, it's not hard to daydream about what life was like during Whitman's time. Historians, English teachers and aficionados of Whitman's work: You must visit this place (if you haven't already been here, of course). But, the Whitman House is also a great place for those not familiar with the poet's work and history -- the park service offers tours year round, but you have to call to make an appointment. To die-hard fans of Whitman: Our Captain's gravesite is in Harleigh Cemetery, only a few blocks from the Mickle Boulevard house. Check out the way he lived his final days and then pay some respect.

Walt Whitman House, 328 Mickle Blvd., Camden, N.J. For tours, call 856-964-5383.

Browse The
July 27, 2006
Issue

Join the
City Paper
Mailing List

24th Annual Writing Contest