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Whitman, Walt, 1819-1892

"Complete Prose Works Specimen Days and Collect, November Boughs and Goodbye My Fancy"


The movements of the late secession war, and their results, to any
sense that studies well and comprehends them, show that popular
democracy, whatever its faults and dangers, practically justifies
itself beyond the proudest claims and wildest hopes of its
enthusiasts. Probably no future age can know, but I well know, how
the gist of this fiercest and most resolute of the world's war-like
contentions resided exclusively in the unnamed, unknown rank and
file; and how the brunt of its labor of death was, to all essential
purposes, volunteer'd. The People, of their own choice,
fighting, dying for their own idea, insolently attack'd by the
secession-slave-power, and its very existence imperil'd. Descending
to detail, entering any of the armies, and mixing with the private
soldiers, we see and have seen august spectacles. We have seen the
alacrity with which the American-born populace, the peaceablest
and most good-natured race in the world, and the most personally
independent and intelligent, and the least fitted to submit to the
irksomeness and exasperation of regimental discipline, sprang, at the
first tap of the drum, to arms--not for gain, nor even glory, nor to
repel invasion--but for an emblem, a mere abstraction--for the life,
_the safety of the flag_. We have seen the unequal'd docility and
obedience of these soldiers. We have seen them tried long and long by
hopelessness, mismanagement, and by defeat; have seen the incredible
slaughter toward or through which the armies (as at first
Fredericksburg, and afterward at the Wilderness,) still unhesitatingly
obey'd orders to advance.


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