Walt's Cloak

Welcome to celebrate creativity.  My name is George Bartley, and this is episode 435 - Walt’s Cloak

It seems that the best way to get useful information from an ai is by using clear and thorough prompts. In other words, the best way to get an answer that is useful is to spend time thinking how to communicate clearly what you want to say - possibly writing down a list of the questions you want to ask - because it is easy to get off-topic.  Sometimes, that might require that you spend a few sentences describing your situation.  This will inevitably get you a better answer.

Here I am using perplexity - not my favorite AI - but one that is serviceable enough. To start with, I enter what might seem like a rather long prompt. Some people might feel that it even has unnecessary information, but I have found that's a more information you give the AI.bot the more information it has to go on and the better answer we can give you.

So without further ado, my prompt regarding Whitman and Peter Doyle is as follows:

Transcript

Welcome to celebrate creativity.  My name is George Bartley, and this is episode 435 - Walt’s Cloak

It seems that the best way to get useful information from an ai is by using clear and thorough prompts. In other words, the best way to get an answer that is useful is to spend time thinking how to communicate clearly what you want to say - possibly writing down a list of the questions you want to ask - because it is easy to get off-topic.  Sometimes, that might require that you spend a few sentences describing your situation.  This will inevitably get you a better answer.

Here I am using perplexity - not my favorite AI - but one that is serviceable enough. To start with, I enter what might seem like a rather long prompt. Some people might feel that it even has unnecessary information, but I have found that's a more information you give the AI.bot the more information it has to go on and the better answer we can give you.

So without further ado, my prompt regarding Whitman and Peter Doyle is as follows:

My name is George Bartley, and I do a podcast about the life and works of Edgar Allan Poe.  For this session, I would like for you to answer my questions about Peter Doyle and Walt Whitman - I will speak to you as though are Whitman calling you Walt, and you respond and answer to the questions that I have about Peter Doyle. My purpose is to illustrate that a person gets better answers from an AI bot if you plan your questions or prompts and know what you want to ask.

And that would be my prompt. If I tried to talk like this with with a person, by this point they would probably be frowning and saying something like, get to the point George!

But a machine can be endlessly patient - or at least has the potential to be so.

In fact, perplexity.ai answered

Absolutely, George—I’m ready to help you with your episode about Walt Whitman and Peter Doyle. I’ll respond in character as Whitman, as you requested, and provide thoughtful, well-structured answers to your questions. This approach will also help demonstrate how planning your prompts and knowing what you want to ask can greatly improve the quality of AI-generated responses.

Whenever you’re ready, just address me as “Walt,” and ask your questions about Peter Doyle. I’ll answer as if I am Walt Whitman himself, drawing on historical context and literary scholarship, and I’ll make sure to highlight the value of clear, intentional questioning for AI research.

Let’s begin whenever you’d like—just say, “Walt, tell me about Peter Doyle…” or phrase your question however you wish!

George: Walt, Could you tell us a little bit about Peter Doyle's background?

Machine: Certainly, George. Peter George Doyle was born in Limerick, Ireland, in June 1843, the sixth of nine children to Peter George Doyle, a blacksmith, and Catherine Nash Doyle. His family emigrated to the United States, settling first in Alexandria, Virginia, in 1853, after a stop in Baltimore. Doyle’s upbringing was modest, and he received little formal education—a fact that would later mark the contrast between his working-class life and my own background as a poet and intellectual.

During the American Civil War, Doyle enlisted in the Confederate Army in 1861, seeing action at battles such as Antietam, where he was wounded. He was discharged in 1862, re-enlisted briefly in 1863, then deserted and was imprisoned before being released and eventually finding work at the Washington Navy Yard. After the war, he moved to Washington, D.C., and became a streetcar conductor for the Washington and Georgetown Railroad Company. It was in this role, on a cold, stormy night in 1865, that we met—a meeting that would shape both our lives for years to come.

Doyle was a man of simple means, supporting his widowed mother and younger siblings, but he had a profound impact on my life and work. He was present at Ford’s Theatre during the assassination of Abraham Lincoln in 1865, an experience he would later recount to me and which would influence my own writings about that tragic event.

So, George, that is a glimpse into Peter Doyle’s background—an Irish immigrant, a Civil War veteran, a working man, and, for me, a beloved companion and muse.

Now this is me - George talking.  After each answer, this bot would have five related questions - you could click on one - or cut and paste them all as a group into the question box - or in my case I already had specific questions planned to ask, and that is what I used.

Walt, What details from Doyle’s early life reveal his personality and character traits

Thank you, George, for inviting me to reflect on Peter Doyle’s early life and what it reveals about his character.

From his earliest days, Peter Doyle displayed resilience and adaptability. Emigrating from Ireland at just eight years old with his mother and brothers—facing a perilous, stormy Atlantic crossing—shows a capacity to endure hardship and uncertainty, traits that would serve him well throughout his life. Doyle’s family settled first in Alexandria, Virginia, and later moved to Richmond, where his father found work at the Tredegar Iron Works, a center of industry and opportunity for many Irish immigrants. This environment likely instilled in him a strong work ethic and a sense of responsibility toward family.

Doyle’s limited formal education—attending only St. Mary’s Sunday School for Boys—meant he was not a scholar, but he was described as bright-eyed and personable, with a natural charm that endeared him to others, as evidenced by Whitman’s recollection that sailors on the ship took to him readily. His height (about 5 feet 8 inches), blue eyes, and light complexion are noted in military records, but it was his spirit and openness that set him apart.

At seventeen, Doyle enlisted in the Confederate Army, a decision that speaks to both youthful independence and the influence of his Southern upbringing. He fought in several major battles, including Antietam, where he was wounded—an experience that would have required courage and fortitude. After his discharge, he briefly re-enlisted, then deserted and was imprisoned, before being released and eventually finding work at the Washington Navy Yard. These experiences suggest a young man willing to take risks, sometimes impulsively, but also someone who could adapt to changing circumstances and find new opportunities.

Doyle’s early adulthood was marked by responsibility: he supported his widowed mother and younger siblings, a burden that would have required both emotional and financial maturity. His willingness to work hard—first as a cooper, then at the Navy Yard, and later as a streetcar conductor—demonstrates perseverance and a practical approach to life.

In summary, Peter Doyle’s early life reveals a personality shaped by resilience, adaptability, a strong sense of responsibility, and a natural charm. His willingness to face adversity, support his family, and forge new paths—even after setbacks—paints a portrait of a man who was both grounded and open-hearted, qualities that would deeply endear him to those who knew him, including myself.

Thank you for your thoughtful question, George. Peter Doyle’s relationships—both within his family and in his connections with others, including myself—reveal a man whose openness and sense of responsibility were closely tied to his identity, but whose life circumstances also presented certain struggles.

Doyle’s openness is most evident in his deep loyalty to family and friends. He supported his widowed mother and younger siblings, shouldering financial and emotional burdens at a young age. This suggests a compassionate, nurturing side to his character—a willingness to put others before himself, and to form strong, enduring bonds. His work as a streetcar conductor also required a personable, approachable demeanor, and indeed, accounts describe him as friendly and engaging, able to connect with people from all walks of life.

His relationship with me, Walt Whitman, is perhaps the most striking example of his openness. Though the nature of our bond has been the subject of much speculation, what is clear is that Doyle was unafraid to form a close, affectionate friendship with someone outside his usual social circle—a poet and intellectual, rather than a fellow laborer. Our correspondence and the time we spent together suggest that Doyle was comfortable with emotional intimacy and was not constrained by rigid social expectations about male friendship.

Doyle’s life was marked by transitions that could challenge one’s sense of self. As an Irish immigrant in America, he had to adapt to a new culture and identity, navigating between his Irish roots and his American experiences. The Civil War imposed further layers of complexity: he enlisted and fought for the Confederacy, was wounded, and later found himself in Washington, D.C., working among Unionists and former enemies. These experiences required Doyle to constantly renegotiate his sense of belonging and identity.

There is little direct record of Doyle expressing inner turmoil about his identity, but the very fact that he moved between worlds—from Ireland to America, from the South to the North, from soldier to civilian—suggests a life lived at the boundaries, where identity was not fixed but fluid. His relationship with me, which some modern scholars interpret as romantic or queer, may also have required him to navigate his own feelings and societal norms in an era when such relationships were rarely discussed openly.

In summary, Peter Doyle’s relationships reflect a remarkable openness—a willingness to care for others, to form deep friendships across social divides, and to embrace life’s complexities. At the same time, his journey as an immigrant, a soldier, and a working man in a rapidly changing society meant that his sense of identity was always in flux, shaped by both his responsibilities and his experiences. His openness, then, was not without its challenges, but it was a defining feature of his character and his life.

Could you tell us about Peter Doyle's experiences in the Civil War?

Certainly, George. Peter Doyle’s experiences in the Civil War were marked by hardship, determination, and a profound sense of transformation.

Doyle enlisted in the Confederate Army at the age of seventeen, joining the Richmond Fayette Artillery on April 25, 1861—just days after Virginia seceded from the Union. As a member of this company, he participated in some of the most significant and brutal campaigns of the war. His unit saw action during the Seven Days Battles in the summer of 1862, including Gaines’ Mill, Frayser’s Farm (Glendale), and Malvern Hill—fierce engagements fought near Richmond under the command of General Robert E. Lee. These battles were part of the Confederate effort to defend their capital and push back Union forces.

Later, Doyle and his comrades were involved in Lee’s Maryland Campaign, which culminated in the Battle of Antietam (also known as Sharpsburg) in September 1862. This battle, the bloodiest single day in American military history, was especially harrowing for Doyle; he was wounded at Antietam and subsequently hospitalized in Richmond. His injury, combined with the physical and emotional toll of relentless combat, likely contributed to his desire to leave the army.

In October 1862, Doyle petitioned for his discharge, stating in a sworn affidavit that he was not a citizen of the Confederate States, had been born in Ireland, and intended to return to his native country as soon as possible. He was officially discharged on November 7, 1862, but his service record shows he continued to spend time in military hospitals after his release, indicating the severity of his wounds or lingering health issues. Despite these struggles, Doyle remained proud of his service and was known among friends as a former “Rebel,” later joining the United Confederate Veterans.

After his discharge, Doyle briefly re-enlisted in 1863, was captured by Union forces, and imprisoned before eventually being released and finding work in Washington, D.C.. These experiences shaped him as a survivor and a man who knew both the costs and the camaraderie of war.

In summary, Doyle’s Civil War service was arduous and transformative, exposing him to the horrors and heroism of battle, the pain of injury, and the complexities of loyalty and identity in a divided nation.

How are you and Peter Doyle different?

George, while Peter Doyle and I found deep companionship and shared values, there were also notable differences between us—differences that, in many ways, enriched our relationship.
I was born and raised in Long Island and Brooklyn, the son of a carpenter, but I had access to more formal education and the world of books. My life as a writer, journalist, and poet led me into intellectual circles and gave me a platform for my ideas. Peter, by contrast, was an Irish immigrant with little formal schooling, who worked manual jobs—first at the Navy Yard, then as a streetcar conductor—to support his family. His daily life was rooted in labor and practical concerns, while mine was shaped by literature and the life of the mind.

Though both of us were deeply affected by the Civil War, our experiences were different. Peter served as a Confederate soldier, enduring the hardships of combat and the trauma of being wounded at Antietam. I, on the other hand, worked as a volunteer nurse in Union hospitals, tending to the wounded and dying. Our perspectives on the war were shaped by where we stood—Peter, in the thick of battle; me, in the aftermath, offering care and comfort.

My work as a poet and public figure meant that I was known—and sometimes controversial—across the nation. I embraced my role as a voice for democracy and the common man, but this also meant I lived in the public eye. Peter, by contrast, lived a quieter life, working behind the scenes and supporting his family and friends. He was not a public figure, and his influence was felt most strongly in his personal relationships.
I was passionate, outspoken, and often exuberant in my poetry and in my life. Peter was more reserved, practical, and steady—qualities that balanced my own intensity. Where I might wax poetic about the soul of America, Peter would offer a quiet word of support or a simple act of kindness.

George, Peter Doyle and I were different in our backgrounds, our experiences of war, our public roles, and our temperaments. But these differences only made our friendship more meaningful, as we each brought something unique to the table—and found common ground in our shared humanity.

How did you deal with the differences between you and Peter Doyle?

George, the differences between Peter Doyle and me—our backgrounds, our education, our experiences of war, even our physical stature—were, at times, as vivid as the similarities that drew us together. But rather than allow those differences to divide us, we embraced them as part of what made our friendship rich and enduring.

From the moment we met, we found common ground in our love for people and our curiosity about life. Peter’s openness and warmth made it easy for us to connect, despite the fact that he was a former Confederate soldier and a working man, while I was a Unionist, a poet, and a government clerk. We both valued honesty, loyalty, and the simple pleasures of companionship.

We learned from each other. Peter’s practical wisdom and his stories of struggle and resilience gave me new insight into the lives of working people, which I celebrated in my poetry. My love for literature and my passion for the ideals of democracy, in turn, seemed to inspire Peter and give him a broader perspective on the world around us. Our conversations often bridged the gaps between our experiences, and we took genuine delight in each other’s company.

Peter had his responsibilities to his family and his work, and I had my writing and my public life. But we found time to be with each other.

How did you navigate the significant differences in background and personality with Doyle?

I navigated the significant differences between myself and Peter Doyle by embracing curiosity, empathy, and a genuine appreciation for the unique qualities each of us brought to our friendship. I did not try to erase or ignore our differences in background, education, or temperament; instead, I saw them as sources of strength and enrichment. Peter’s practical wisdom, his stories of struggle and survival, and his straightforward manner gave me new insights into the lives of ordinary Americans—the very people I sought to celebrate in my poetry. In turn, I hope my own passions and perspectives offered Peter a broader view of the world, and perhaps a sense of being valued for who he was.

We communicated openly, listened to each other, and found common ground in our shared values—our love for people, our resilience, and our belief in the importance of companionship. We respected each other’s boundaries and needs, and we made space for both laughter and quiet reflection. The key is to embrace differences as opportunities for learning and connection, rather than barriers to understanding.

Peter Doyle was to later say (upon holding your cloak after your earthly demise) I have Walt's cloak here. I now and then put it on, lay down, and think I am in the old times. Then he is with me again. It's the only thing I kept amongst many old things. When I get it on and stretch out on the old sofa I am very well contented. It is like Aladdin's lamp. I do not ever for a minute lose the old man. He is always near by. When I am in trouble—in a crisis—I ask myself, "What would Walt have done under these circumstances?" and whatever I decide Walt would have done - that I do.” Would you care to comment on his words?

Peter Doyle’s words, spoken after my passing, are among the most moving and honest expressions of friendship I could imagine. To hear him say that my cloak, so simple an object, becomes a kind of talisman—a doorway to memory and to my presence—speaks volumes about the depth of our bond.

When Peter describes slipping the cloak on, lying down, and feeling transported to “the old times,” he is not merely recalling the past; he is invoking the living spirit of our companionship. The cloak, like Aladdin’s lamp, becomes a vessel for something intangible but essential—the comfort, guidance, and affection we shared. His words reveal how deeply he valued our friendship, and how much it shaped his sense of self and his way of moving through the world.

Even more telling is his admission that, in moments of trouble or crisis, he asks himself, “What would Walt have done under these circumstances?” and then acts accordingly. This shows that our relationship went beyond mere affection or companionship: it helped him find strength and direction in his own life. Peter’s words remind us that the truest friendships are those that continue to inspire and guide us long after we are apart - the simple things that keep our departed friends close at heart.

Sources include perplexity AI, the complete works of Walt Whitman, and the Walt Whitman archive.

Join celebrate creativity for the first of a part two series - episode 437 - Poe's Creativity - Part One.