In Whittier’s note to his poem, “Voyage of the Jettie,” written at Wayside Inn at West Ossipee, he says that to readers who know the place it will recall pleasant seasons by the Bearcamp and Chocorua. And he adds that to himself the verses have a special interest “from the fact that they were written, or improvised, under the eye and for the amusement of a beloved invalid friend whose last earthly summers faded from the mountain ranges of Ossipee and Sandwich.”
This “beloved invalid friend” was the father of the “C—— boys” mentioned in the above letter—one of those Amesbury “boys and girls” in whom the poet showed an unfailing interest. This gifted young man was an early victim of tuberculosis. For years in his failing health he was watched over with solicitude by the poet, whose letters make frequent mention of him. On the invalid’s death Whittier wrote, “I miss him sadly.”
The poet’s care for the orphan boys was characteristic of his fidelity.
“There is nothing especially new in Amesbury,” he says in a letter to the writer, “except the one hundredth anniversary of the old Rocky Hill meeting house for which Mrs. Spofford wrote an admirable poem. The C——’s are at Lion’s Mouth. Dr. M—— D—— is in attendance on her mother who is failing with consumption. I met A—— and M—— A—— in Portland. I had not seen them for a long time before. I found Lizzie (Mrs. Pickard) on the whole better than I had seen her for years. M—— B—— is seriously ill with spinal trouble and I fear with no prospect of recovery. The beautiful June weather is very welcome after the long and bitter winter and spring. I enjoy it, but am hardly able to get about much.”
He writes from Oak Knoll:
“I have been here for three or four weeks, much of the time ill with cold and rheumatism. I have been close indoors most of the time, though I went one day to Boston to see my brother who was troubled with his old enemy, inflammatory rheumatism.... I shall hope to see you when I return to Amesbury sometime this month. Have you seen the Cartlands yet?... Tell thy mother I will send her by the Cartlands who are reading it, the ‘Life of Dr. Norman McLeod’ which I know she will like. It is one of the pleasantest books I have read for years.”
A letter to M— C— in the May of 1889 records the loss of other friends: