Analysis: Selections from Drum Taps by Walt Whitman

Date: October 1865

Author: Whitman, Walt

Genre: poetry; literature

Summary Overview

In 1865, the Civil War was four years along on its destructive and divided path. Walt Whitman, the author of this document, was keenly involved with the war effort and used his poetry to convey the pride, pain, and horrors which he felt and experienced to the public. Whitman was not of an age to enlist, but he supported the soldiers, and his own friends, by visiting the wounded in hospitals and relating their stories to others. From his unique perspective, that of a published author and wordsmith, Whitman created the following document in which he was able both to convey his pride and patriotism concerning the soldiers that were marching off to fight for the North, and also his sadness at the loss felt by every person who saw a father, husband, brother, or son killed in the fierce fighting that split the country. The theme of military hospitals in this work shows Whitman’s own contributions to the war effort and his need to reveal the darker aspects of fighting for one’s country.

Document Analysis

In the numerous poems that make up Walt Whitman’s Drum Taps, several are devoted specifically to the suffering of soldiers and those selfless individuals who are their caregivers. Furthermore, while the wounded may not be specifically referred to in each poem, the theme of military aid and the wounded carries through the compilation of the separable poems in order to express fully the magnitude and depth of Whitman’s own experiences. By focusing an analysis on two poems from Drum Taps, “First O Songs for a Prelude” and “The Wound-Dresser,” readers are able to understand how Whitman’s views of the war changed steadily as he became more aware of the hardships and tragedies which are associated with battle. The glory and pride demonstrated in the first poem of Drum Taps are replaced by disgust for the pain of the wounded and hatred for the battles which caused them.

“First O Songs for a Prelude”

In Whitman’s opening poem, “First O Songs for a Prelude,” he begins with an uplifting and proud image of a city coming to life in order to defend the values of its citizens and not submitting to the injustices, as they saw them, committed by the Confederacy. Whiteman here describes Manhattan, or New York City, as leading the rest of the country into war—springing into action and being strong in the face of danger and adversity. All of which sounds wonderful, for a city fighting for its beliefs and for freedom strikes a poignant chord with readers of all times and generations. Patriotism was not less known to those of Walt Whitman’s time than it is to modern readers. The ability for a city to throw off its normal daily routine in order to face some unknown difficulty ignites pride in those who learn of the sacrifice. As Whitman states, the high culture—the “opera-music”—was given up for the fight—the “drum and fife.” The movement shown in the first stanza of the poem leads Whitman and his readers into war, standing as an opening act to what is to come.

The next stanzas continue the set tone—a city hurdling toward war. Whitman describes the soldiers as “parading” and the whole affair as a “pageant”—strong images, but still overwhelmingly positive in their usage. The horrors that these soldiers, and even the civilians, would soon see have little place in this poem. The city and her inhabitants were galvanized by the actions of the South, and Whitman catches that somewhat frenetic movement in his poetry. The people do not just rise to the occasion, they run at it full force. Little of the poem is dedicated to the darker aspects of war, although he does use such phrases as “ominous hum” and “loth is the mother to part.” The main attitude is concentrated on the overwhelming force that the city has created and pushes toward the front lines.

Whitman spends many lines of the poem paying homage to those who walked away from their lives in order to become soldiers—everyone from cart drivers to judges. The young men are tutored by the old, and droves of men come together in order to form a fighting force. Whitman states that he loves them, each and every one, and here he is most likely presenting the attitude of most of the Union citizens, supporting the army with positive thoughts and prayers. He even spends several lines to praise those who act in supporting roles—specifically, nurses—little knowing that he himself would soon join their ranks. It is in this stanza that he speaks to the fact that from this point on war will no longer be pretty parades and simple drum beats: “…the work begun for in earnest, no mere parade now.” In the last few lines, praise mixes with trepidation, for he knows that not all the boys and men will be returning home and even those who do will never be the same.

“The Wound-Dresser”

This poem is essentially Walt Whitman’s personal account of his time in a battlefield hospital. The very title, “Wound-Dresser,” is more than probably a reference to the role that Whitman himself filled many times during battles and in the bloody aftermath. The most essential idea of this poem is in its comparison to the opening poem of Drum Taps, “First O Songs for a Prelude.” Unlike the forward movement evoked by that poem, “The Wound-Dresser” has a feeling of unrelenting despair and a lack of movement similar to being caught and held by the pain of those around him. Even though many years are referenced and the opening lines speak of a man growing old, there is no change in his life, just the pain of those with whom he sits.

As he says, battles come and go, but something that is every changing, and something that must be learned by the young and inexperienced, is that pain and death are the companions of war, far more so than bravery and heroism. The second stanza focuses on the fleeting nature of the battle itself, the charge and the rush of the fight fade quickly and only the bad things, “many the hardships,” are remembered by the survivors. The wound-dresser speaks of his more prominent role, not as a fighter but as an aid to those wounded, possibly drastically or even fatally, in battle. He invites his audience to follow him into the hospitals, but warns that a “strong heart” is necessary to look upon the carnage with which he now deals.

Beginning with the wound-dresser carrying in bandages, Whitman’s descriptions are poetic but do not dive straight into the horrors that he saw. It is a slow build—first, the soldiers lying on the battlefield after the fighting has ceased, unable to move under their own power, their blood flowing into the grass. Second, a more horrifying scene—the rows upon rows of injured soldiers in battlefield hospitals, pails used to dispose of bloody rags and anything else employed. Then, the more personal descriptions of pain and suffering begin. The soldier who pleads with eyes for some end. The soldier who has lost his sense from the blows to his skull. The member of the cavalry who knows he is dying but is not ready yet to give up and leave the world, even though death is now more merciful than life. Then begin the descriptions of the amputations, the gangrene, the shattered bones— even if the soldiers live through their wounds and the terrible conditions of their sick beds, even then their lives will no longer be the same.

The wound-dresser, Whitman himself, does his best to take care of these men who are dependent upon him, and others like him, for their lives. He is sickened by what he sees, but he is also “impassive,” for he has to become immune to the suffering or else empathy would destroy him as well. He would not be able to help those who are in such a desperate need if he could not push down his reactions and simply do what needs to be done. This does not mean that he feels nothing—“yet deep in my breast a fire, a burning flame.” He clearly cares about these men, or he would just go home. Whitman went to the battlefield in order to check on his brother, but this short errand turned into something much more complex—a need to stay and do whatever he could for the wounded soldiers.

These experiences marked him for the rest of his life. He even writes in his last stanza that in his dreams he returns to the battlefield and continues to wipe the brows of the injured. He sees the dying faces of young boys and remembers how he tried to comfort them in their darkest moments or just before they passed. While he never displays any contempt for the wounded, his disgust, while not emphasized in the poem, is rightly placed with the war that brought the wounded so low. No parade or victory makes up for the lost limbs and lost lives. At best, it allows their sacrifice not to be in vain. Whitman uses his experiences to show his audience the true cost of war and to honor those with whom he interacted, whether they survived or not.

The differences in tone and wealth of experience between “First O Song for the Prelude” and “The Wound-Dresser” highlight Walt Whitman’s experiences during the Civil War. At the conclusion he was no longer the wide-eyed, hopeful, and slightly naïve man who wrote the opener for Drum Taps. Through his experiences he became almost imbued with the need to help those who suffered and was not able to turn his back on them. While this was not a trait unique to Whitman, he expressed it in a more eloquent manner than many would be able to pen. War for him, and for many others, was no longer the beating of drums and the push to right the wrongs committed by the South, but a thing of pain, suffering, and death which scarred the nation and had a profound effect on every individual—soldier, noncombatant, or civilian.

Bibliography

Folsom, Ed, and Kenneth M. Price. “Walt Whitman.” The Walt Whitman Archive, n.d. Web. 21 Aug. 2013.

Whitman, Walt. Drum Taps. New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1865. Print.