On September 18, 1902, Matilda Dunbar in Chicago wrote an emotional letter to her daughter-in-law, Alice Moore Dunbar in Wilmington, Delaware. Eight months earlier, Alice and her husband Paul Laurence Dunbar had a violent separation. Paul begged Alice for reconciliation but she ignored him, so Matilda wrote on his behalf.
Paul insisted that I should write for him. Because he has tried so often to write himself. He has had his pen in his hand, but he can't write because he is so ashamed and remorseful. And he plead with me today, between sobs and tears, to write you. He sees his wrong, and what he did was in a drunken passion. He wants me to tell you how he pines for you and how he still loves you, how he misses you at every turn. And he finds nothing or nobody to fill your place. Alice, won't you make up your mind to write him a few lines? Since he read that poem you put in the box with the linen (Comrade) he has been wretched. Now Alice, if you don't come to answer this in Paul's name, answer in mine.
Matilda Dunbar to Alice Moore Dunbar, September 18, 1902. Paul Laurence Dunbar Papers, Ohio History Connection (Microfilm edition, Roll 8).
After the Dunbar household in Washington, D. C., broke up, Alice shipped Matilda's bedding and housewares to Chicago. Matilda thanked Alice for sending her belongings, and she also mentioned a poem that arrived with them.
I received your letter some time ago and the book and I thank you for it. I came near forgetting [to] speak of the poem. I see the very depth of the heart in it expresses all.
Matilda Dunbar to Alice Moore Dunbar, August 12, 1902. Paul Laurence Dunbar Papers, Ohio History Connection (Microfilm edition, Roll 8).
Alice my heart shall always plead for you. This house is a misery to me without you now. You want to know what poem it is. Alice, it is the poem that was in the last book that you sent Comrade. It was very impressive.
Matilda Dunbar to Alice Moore Dunbar, August 24, 1902. Paul Laurence Dunbar Papers, Ohio History Connection (Microfilm edition, Roll 8).
Matilda referred to a poem called "Comrade" that was typed on two sheets of paper with no date or author's name. It has been published among Paul's poems, but it's written from Alice's perspective and refers specifically to experiences she shared with him in Washington, New York and Denver. Three years earlier, Alice had dedicated her book The Goodness of St. Rocque to "My best Comrade, My Husband," and she referred to her relationship with Paul as "camaraderie." A line in the poem says, "Your way goes west, mine east." After the Dunbars separated, Paul went west and Alice went east.
Oh, comrade, comrade, I have missed you so!
The long, drear months still lagging come and go,
And I, I strive to fill them to the brim,
But still my heart cries out, But what of him?
Tonight, I sat and pored o'er pages sere,
All filled with what we did and said last year;
And all the soul within me rose and cried,
And all the woman in me sobbed and sighed.This day we sat beside a dimpling stream,
And hours flew by like moments in a dream;
And you and I, true comrades, laughed and played,
Nor deemed it long the while we fondly stayed.These days we stood 'neath turquoise Western sky,
And breathed new life, sipped ozone from on high;
Did mem'ry ever smile and call to thee
Those long, sweet tramps of ours, of me and thee?Then those long dreary hours you fought with death,
And I hung near and watched your feeble breath;
And those long evening hours you clasped my hand,
And watched the twilight creeping o'er the land.We sat upon the shore and watched the sea,
Creep higher to the rocks e'er we did flee.
And erst we angled in the dimpling bay,
And proudly counted trophies, mind'st the day?Oh, comrade, comrade, I have missed you so!
The long, drear months still lagging come and go,
And I, I strive to fill them to the brim;
But still my heart cries out, But what of him?We've lived through sorrow and we've lived through joy,
Sweets, sweets we've tasted to our senses' cloy;
And yet we've suffered sorrow to the deep,
Full bitterness of sorrow's deadly heap.Dost mind the books we read in other days?
Dost mind the foolish cards and little plays?
Dost mind the lilting music of our song?
Dost mind the winter eves, so sweet and long?There is no other heart to beat with mine;
There is no other soul attuned like thine;
I miss the quick return of kindred fire;
These duller minds, oh comrade, quickly tire.The dreary days pass on, I smile and smile,
My heart a-heavy, and soul tired the while;
The dreary nights in sleepless mis'ry creep
My soul a-cry to thine in anguish deep.Our paths have parted, ne'er perhaps, to meet,
Your way goes west, mine east. With slow-paced feet
I take my way; yet still, again, tonight,
I pause and sob before the dreary fight.Oh, comrade, comrade, I have missed you so!
The long, drear months still lagging come and go,
And I, I strive to fill them to the brim,
But still my heart cries out, But what of him?"Comrade," no author or date [1902]. Paul Laurence Dunbar Papers, Ohio History Connection (Microfilm edition, Roll 3).