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/ .-. \
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| WALT |
| WHITMAN |
| 1819- |
| 1892 |
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LEAVES OF GRASS
🍃 The Leaves 🍃
A celebration of Walt Whitman, born this day in 1819
🌿 The Wound-Dresser
In December 1862, Whitman traveled to Virginia after his brother George was wounded
at the Battle of Fredericksburg. George's wound proved minor, but what Whitman saw
in the field hospitals changed him forever. He remained in Washington until 1865,
working as a volunteer nurse.
What He Did
• Whitman visited wounded soldiers in Washington hospitals from 1862-1865
• He estimated he made over 600 hospital visits and saw 80,000-100,000 wounded
• He wrote letters for soldiers who couldn't write, brought small gifts, and simply sat with the dying
• He worked without pay, supporting himself through part-time clerical jobs
• He caught an infection that contributed to his 1873 stroke
• 'The Wound-Dresser' describes: 'I dress the perforated shoulder, the foot with the bullet-wound'
• He said of his hospital work: 'I did not go there for any formal reasons... I went for my own sake'
• He kept notebooks of patients' names, conditions, and what they needed
• Many soldiers wrote him letters for years afterward, calling him their best friend
• He saw Lincoln multiple times in Washington but they never spoke
From "The Wound-Dresser"
Bearing the bandages, water and sponge,
Straight and swift to my wounded I go,
Where they lie on the ground after the battle brought in,
Where their priceless blood reddens the grass the ground...
I dress the perforated shoulder, the foot with the bullet-wound,
Cleanse the one with a gnawing and putrid gangrene, so sickening, so offensive,
While the attendant stands behind aside me holding the tray and pail.
I am faithful, I do not give out,
The fractur'd thigh, the knee, the wound in the abdomen,
These and more I dress with impassive hand, (yet deep in my breast a fire, a burning flame.)
Lincoln
Whitman saw Abraham Lincoln many times in Washington—on horseback, in carriages,
walking to church. They never spoke or met. But Whitman wrote: "I see very plainly
Abraham Lincoln's dark brown face, with the deep cut lines, the eyes, etc., always
to me with a deep latent sadness in the expression."
When Lincoln was assassinated on April 14, 1865, Whitman wrote two of his most
famous poems in response: the popular "O Captain! My Captain!" and the greater
"When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd."
From "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd"
O how shall I warble myself for the dead one there I loved?
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone?
And what shall my perfume be for the grave of him I love?
Sea-winds blown from east and west,
Blown from the Eastern sea and blown from the Western sea, till there
on the prairies meeting,
These and with these and the breath of my chant,
I'll perfume the grave of him I love.